Tell me, Cello Maoh…
What is it that made you forget to smile?
-x-
As far as I (and anyone else) could tell, the way things were—with the cold and distant stretch of time and space that perpetually separated us, I was the closest thing that she had to what the remotest semblance of a "friend" could ever be. She always kept to herself and had no friends who could help enlighten me even a little. Which meant that there was likely no one else in school who knew more than I did; everything I knew at that point was about as much as could be known by anyone who has ever come this close to her…
All of which can be summed up into a neat little list in my mind:
Hates boys. No, detests males of all gender-based races in the known galaxy. Extremely skilled in martial arts and unbelievably strong. (Mean uppercut). (Watch the knee!) Her features tell me she's of a race I don't recognize (could be a hybrid). Eyes are bright lapis lazuli (almost glowing), burnished copper brown hair, wavy and wild. First blush is an exotic mix of Earthling(?), Heranian(?), and quite possibly something else…(?) Not affiliated with any school organization/not a member of any school club or guild. Doesn't appear to have any other hobbies and interests besides reading books. No friends. Exerts no effort to make any like she didn't care. At all. (Is this even possible?) Always sandwiches and an apple for lunch. (Never seen her eat anything else.) Doesn't talk much, even when teachers call her in class. They stopped trying (or so I've heard from gossip about her). She stopped going to her classes at some point. She still hangs out somewhere at school though. Cries often. Well, sort of 'cries'. Never seen her smile. (Yet.)And…
…That's everything.
6
Braving the Storm
When I was a four, I got lost in the wilderness and unwittingly crawled into a cave which contained a slumbering diplodocus. The shock of the initial introductions aside, my love for nature and animals naturally had me thrilled to have a friend dinosaur. (Trunks' family cared for one in their backyard terrarium; something he constantly bragged about and something I was consistently jealous of). But even before we could get better acquainted, a tyrannosaurus rex came along and ate my newfound friend.
Only a few years later when a baby dragon I rescued from a forest fire took to me did I get over my first tragic attempt at petship. And so, despite my mother's disapproval, I secretly snuck out to play with my winged-friend all the time. Could you really blame me, though? To any six-year-old who loved the outdoors, flying above the world on a dragon's back was more exciting than inverse cosine functions, logarithmic expressions, and non-negative integer exponents. Of course, my Mother was furious when she found out. So furious, that she threatened to cook and serve my friend to me for dinner if I persisted on defying her. And so, with a heavy heart, I led my dragon astray somewhere far, far away to bid another friend goodbye…
Having pets as friends may seem a little overrated to most, but to those who's had very solitary childhoods, it can never be overrated enough. I was one of those children who grew up mostly alone. My mother never played with me, she only ever enforced my studies. Father was hardly ever around. I got used to it. I don't think Mother ever did. It made no difference though… When you lose something—someone- nothing can ever prepare anyone for that, no matter how much you know it's coming and try to be ready for it. Everything in your world changes. The day my father walked out the door and never came back, my mother was never the same. Not long after that, a heart attack took Grandfather from us as well—which in turn, left Mother devastated and inconsolable for many, many years.
So there I was: eleven years old, the world crashing down upon us and I was consumed by the illusion that I could make things all better. As long as I pretended I wasn't crumbling on the inside too. As long as I pretended not to hear her crying every night when she thought I was fast asleep. In truth, I didn't really know what to do… I felt more broken for her than for both of us-more than I ever could for myself.
Anguish… Fear… Anger… Frustration… Or just a world of heartache…? We shatter and break for different reasons. But seeing someone we care about suffering can be the most painful of all.
And so, here I am now. Seventeen years old and under the same illusion that I could make things right. This time, for Cello Maoh… Toddler, eleven years old, or seventeen, some habits don't die, I guess. But I think we can all safely agree that it doesn't just have to be your mother-whether it's some exotic alien chick or otherwise, seeing someone cry wasn't a particularly enjoyable thing to bear witness to. As a member of the male group, I can safely say that this is especially true for us boys, a lot of whom personally confessed to hating seeing girls cry.
You're probably wondering: did I ever get my mother to stop crying at night? The truth is, I don't know, I don't remember if I did. My mother cried, yes. But she would still smile every day like she wasn't doing the opposite every night; even if most times it looked like keeping that smile on her face was hurting her more than the crying. That's how I knew I wasn't the only one trying.
Family and friends were different. Cello Maoh wasn't any of that to me- heck, I don't know if we could even be called enemies—although I would have taken anything she had to offer me over whatever it was we currently had (or didn't have) going on. Our relationship right now felt like one between goddess and mere mortal. I wasn't just a nobody to her, I was a creature she wanted nothing to do with; which earned me no position to casually walk up to her to ask her what was wrong and offer comfort. (Not that I didn't try).
Trunks was right. I didn't have a stake in her life, I'm not supposed to care…
And yet…
I can't seem to remember how to do anything else; it felt like there has always been nothing else but her… Seeing her silently suffering-was my entire world crashing down.
…
I found myself lying in bed wide awake most nights, trying to remember what life was like before her. But it always ends up with me being sure that I have never really been alive until her… Then it led to wondering how colourful the world would be if she would—if only I could just… see her smile. How is it that someone so beautiful could be so broken…?
I'd wake up from not having slept at all, only always sure of two things:
One: whatever Cello Maoh's reasons were, they were bound to be damn good ones.
And two? Whether I found out or not what those were is ultimately both irrelevant and inconsequential. A bloody lip now and then or torn ligaments may be my only trophies at the end of the day, but I didn't even remember to count the gains or grievances on my end anymore.
As long as I got to do whatever I could to protect her-that's all that mattered. For now. And the now was what I decided to focus on.
The now (of that time in my story), was not a very comfortable place to be though…
One good thing about "nows" is that no matter how bad, they were always bound to get better eventually, right?
…
Maintaining my scholarship status while trying to be an ace bodyguard under the radar was a rough life to manage. But while it didn't get any easier, after countless weeks of the demanding routine, I was slowly getting the hang of it. I actually even got in some extra hours of training whenever I could, as I expected things to go downhill now that my reputation as Cello Maoh's martyr and suicidal defender was gaining fame. Worst case scenario would be that they'd gang up on me to take me out of the equation. Or, that they'd report my "misdemeanours" to permanently mar my records and result in the revocation of my scholarship. But the latter option would be as detrimental to them as it would be to me so I wasn't too worried about it. The former turned out better than I anticipated. A significant number of scumbags peeled off the flock, realizing that having their bones broken or dislocated wasn't worth the price of proving their manhood. The downside was the periodic influx of exceedingly minatory and hostile aggressors in their place. Bullies in quality over quantity. Fantastic.
I took a serious beating in the first wave but lived to survive another beating in another day, and another, and another—and I just tried not to think of how much farther. My mind was already set for the long haul so more than ever I took each day one gruesome fight at a time. This new trend, however, led to an unexpected development… One singular day from a messy blur of many- for the first time-I saw my unwilling damsel's face take on a look of genuine relief over the fact that there was someone literally dying to be her knight…
It was just another day that promised nothing out of the ordinary level of crazy; I was mindlessly checking my list of things to do on my phone as I walked my usual safe distance from her after class. And by safe distance, this meant that if trouble arose, I'd be close enough to intervene at just the right moment if needed, but not close enough to be a nuisance.
It happened just as I was turning the pavement curb of the Science Building which marked the halfway point to her hall.
A scream.
Disorientated, I had to think twice to pinpoint where it came from and who it was.
It came from where Cello Maoh was. But I had never heard her scream before.
-x-
Any kind of "male" involvement didn't sit well with her, that much is established. And as it was, I knew that my unsolicited "help" was probably aggravating her just as much as the true opposition was, so I was even more careful not to exacerbate the situation for her. This became something of an art—to watch for that precise very last moment when things went sideways too fast and she'd be in over her head. As much as I truly enjoyed witnessing how gloriously she could kick ass, it was pure torture to just wait things out cutting it too close. If I intervened too prematurely, I wouldn't only get my ass beaten twice but also incur more of her hatred. If I miscalculated and entered a split second too late, she would end up seriously hurt and I would never forgive myself. Needless to say, the first mistake was always usually more favourable.
But like I said, I've got it down to a fine art by now. I'd only step in when things got a lot hairier than usual-do what I felt exactly needed to be done, no more, no less, then afterwards, I'd disappear so fast it's like I wasn't even there…
-x-
The world burned a bright red haze; nothing but my Saiyajin blood pumping through my entire body. As always, the only thing left in my memory by the time it was over was the "before" and "after", but not much of the "what happened" in between. There would be no hesitation, no pre-evaluation; everything about fighting was clockwork to me by now.
When I came to, shock had set in; with it, the pain too was starting to register from many places all at once but leftover adrenaline still had half of me on autopilot. I had conditioned myself not to relax until I had completed what I set out to do.
Cello Maoh was on her knees on the floor, blood oozing from her mouth and ominous bruises beginning to vandalize her neck. I picked her up and carried her—I wasn't thinking of any specific destination; my priority was to get her to safety. She trembled and clung onto my neck in lieu of the usual clawing and punching. Her sweet fragrance was swaying my convictions; the urge to hold her closer to comfort her with kisses was so strong that I had to bite the inside of my lip hard to resist it.
I gently sat her on a bench in the park closest to her hall. Then with the handkerchief from my pocket, I wiped the blood from her chin, her mouth, and was only faintly aware of clear trails of wetness running down from the corners of her eyes. Almost mechanically, I retrieved the sewing pouch I carried around for repairing my own torn clothes after the messier fights. I would rank the fight we just survived the messiest by far- my shirt uniform was torn in too many places in a way no amount of mending could salvage—but I wasn't concerned about fixing my own clothes at the moment.
Cello Maoh's blouse had been ripped down the middle. I didn't care if she thought I was being ridiculous, weird or prudish, it was dangerous enough for her walking around decently clothed, there was no way I was letting her back in the campus looking like she was inviting attention to herself. I put my coat over her shoulders and got to work.
Thirteen minutes.
That's how long it took to patch up the damage on her blouse. That's how long she had her eyes on me as I attended to my task. None of us spoke the whole time; I strove not to falter as my adrenaline ebbed and she just sniffed and heaved, and wiped away the persistent wet spots on her face.
At last, after what felt like an eternity of sweet torment, I congratulated myself inwardly for pulling through, pocketed my sewing pouch and got to my feet to take my leave.
…
"Why are you doing this?"
…
Those were her first real words to me that wasn't harsh diatribe; the first time I heard her speak without sounding angry.
A smile found its way to my lips; the kind that hurt more than crying. "I… I really don't know the answer to that myself…" I've dreamt about this moment too many times I couldn't tell if I was awake anymore. Her voice was even more beautiful than I remembered. "I just think you don't deserve to be treated that way."
"But…" Her blue eyes filled with emotion. "You're…"
"…A guy?" I offered, my lips tugging higher up the corners. "Yeah, I guess I am, huh?" I closed my eyes, as a sigh slipped from my chest.
…
Tell me, Cello Maoh…
What is it that made you forget to smile?
…
"If it means anything, there are times I wish I weren't…" If it meant being able to get close to you… If I could make you smile… "I just didn't have a choice there, you know? Sometimes, we end up in places we don't want to be…
"But that doesn't mean we can't get out, right?"
…
I may not be able to make you smile just yet…
But if I could keep your reasons for shedding tears to a minimum…
Then maybe, for the time being…
…
"Well, I'll see you around…
"…Take care of yourself, Cello Maoh."
…
That was good enough for me.
End of Chapter 6
Continued in Chapter 7: "Close To Something"…
Replies to Reviews:
To XZanayu: As always, I appreciate the feedback! Thank you! Uh, well, actually, Gohan-kun does NOT know what he is doing, haha! But then again, being in love and knowing what you're doing can be two very difficult things to manage at the same time so... Yes, he needs people cheering him on. He'll certainly need all the well wishes and luck he can get because hard times are just beginning... XD