Please read, review, and enjoy! : )
I do not own Ao no Exorcist.
Mineko sat with her knees together, propping up the heavy backpack that was doing its best to cut off the circulation in her thighs. The middle seat, without a passenger, had enough space to contain the stuffed pack, but she found herself unwilling to part with the possession. It gave her something to hold on to as the taxi turned the bend, momentum threatening to roll the bundle off her lap, across the back seat, and into the pale woman sitting on the opposite side of the car. Her knuckles turned white as her grip tightened, the tension never leaving her body even after the road straightened.
Pools of water littered the landscape, turned the fields and forests into wetlands and dirt roads into mud pits traversed only by those with four-wheel drive vehicles. It had been days since the rain let up, but the weather reports prophesied icy conditions if flooding did not recede by the end of the next week.
Evening blue was sinking lower on the horizon when Mineko and her escort splattered up the porch steps.
"Your phone?" Mineko stopped on the top stair and silently pulled out her device, shutting it off while the woman watched.
The front doors opened without either of them knocking.
She had worked one foot out of a dirty boot when a familiar-looking black suit approached.
"Please leave your bag here. And remove your coat."
"My things… My belongings are i-in here." She was also chilly from the walk to the porch, and would have preferred to keep her coat on.
"You don't need them right now." Believing their discussion would go no further until she complied, Mineko took off her other boot and grudgingly relinquished the warmth of her coat. She dragged her backpack aside and noticed her slippers were missing.
"Please come with me." The search for her slippers could wait.
She stepped into the hall after the black suit and glanced behind once to see that the young woman did not immediately follow. "I haven't been told w-w-what's going on," she started once they were out of earshot of the woman in the entryway.
"You're to see the Captain first," the man said, and Mineko felt her stomach flip-flop.
"Oh." She cast her gaze downwards, away from the hallway laid out before her that suddenly seemed all too short. No doubt the dark-eyed woman would fix her with a piercing glare on sight and throw questions at her that she didn't know how to answer.
When they turned down the guest hall, she lifted her chin at the sound of knocking. The guards outside the first guest suite must have been alerting everyone that she had arrived. Seconds later there came the brief squeal of hinges and the short yet imposing figure of the Captain stepped out of the suite.
"Finally," Mineko thought she heard the woman mutter, and then she was striding their way, her expression stern. The Captain sent a significant glance towards the black suit, who gave a small nod and kept walking when she intercepted them. For several long and awkward seconds, the woman looked at her without uttering a word, either inviting her to speak first or daring her to break the tension she fanned with her silence.
"How-w may I help you…?" At the last instant she blanked on how she should address the woman, the end of her question hanging on an abrupt pause.
"I'm glad you could return on such short notice, Matsumoto-san. We were not expecting to call on you so soon, and I'm sure you have other responsibilities to tend to outside of your job here."
Thrown off by her response, Mineko offered a stilted, "Yes—of course. You're w-w-w-welcome."
Gold bars glimmered on the woman's sleeves as her arms crossed over her chest. "He asked about you twice this morning." Her tone hardened now the she had dispensed what little pleasantry she mustered for the occasion. The Captain could have been accusing her of some wrong-doing, but she kept the emotion from showing. "When he asked about you a third time, at noon, we informed him of your situation. He was not pleased." Again, she seemed to imply the fault was hers. "What does that poem mean and why is he so adamant about discussing it with you?"
"The…poem? He read i-i-it? I read it in school… I-It… Anyone can discuss i-it. He must be confused—"
"The Commander is not a fool." The spectacled woman's voice rose, and Mineko inadvertently flinched at the interruption.
"I am not calli-ing him a fool." Her hands flew up defensively and she spoke slowly, boldly, though her instincts told her to submit. "I meant no di-is-isrespect. If you let me speak w-with him again, I think we can clear up any mi-isunderstandings, and I will return home." Surely that was what the Captain wanted: to send her on her way as soon as possible and never catch sight of her again.
"That would be best," she said after a moment, and turned, indicating that she should follow.
In addition to Nakamura and the nurse, there were a couple of black suits and several people in blue and white uniforms in the guest suite, including the blonde twins. Conversation ceased as most of the occupants looked towards the door when they came in, and the black suits immediately departed.
"Commander, Matsumoto-san is here." The Captain went straight to the bedside while Mineko hung back, unsure if she was supposed to join the bodies gathered around the bed. She didn't feel comfortable doing so. The scene brought forth the memory of her grandmother lying on her deathbed, surrounded by family and a handful of surviving friends in a room that was somehow too hot and too cold. It was not a pleasant comparison.
"Thank you, Captain," answered the man under the blankets, his voice dry and worn. "I wish to speak with her, alone."
"I understand, sir. With your permission, I would like to remain in the room, to make sure all is well."
"No." His response was immediate, and despite his sickly state, the authority behind it was unquestionable. Mineko watched the cluster by the bedside, observed how the Captain's shoulders rose stiffly in protest while a few pairs of feet shuffled, and uncertain glances swept left, right, and forward. Without realizing it, she went through the same motions, shifting uncomfortably at the blunt rejection and deciding that anything else in the room was easier to focus on than the conflict between the guests.
"It won't take long." One of the officers spoke up after the pause stretched uncomfortably in an attempt to soothe the Captain. "If he needs this to be kept private, then there's no helping it; it does not concern us."
"Please, Captain." It dawned on Mineko that the bedridden man had no way of enforcing his decision. His rank was the only power he held over the group huddling around him.
"I would not doubt you, sir." The Captain's hand pressed down inches from his on the mattress, a splash of inky black on bright cotton. If his authority was indeed unquestionable, then her loyalty was unwavering. But the disappointment remained. "We will leave you a moment. If you need anything…" It was not necessary that she finish. Quietly, the men and women moved away from the bed, one or two of them glancing at Mineko on their way out the door while the others feigned disinterest. The twins carried a matching smirk that did not seem to be aimed at her, and then the Captain shut the door with a solid tug and a final look.
"I w-w-wouldn't have minded i-if she stayed and listened." The words came rushing out louder than she meant them to, as if she had been holding her breath, only to remember how breathing worked now that the room was empty of uniforms.
"No." He gave her the same answer he had given the Captain, his tone and volume no different despite their non-existent relationship and her distance from his resting place. "This is between you and me."
Mineko clasped her hands and said nothing, looking away from the man dwarfed by the comfort of the bed and feeling less certain of role. She had returned to the manor believing that her help was required, but thinking back on the brief exchanges she had had with the guests, no one had explicitly asked for her assistance. They wanted her to come back. The Commander wanted her to come back. Only one person knew why, and she had spent her afternoon asking the wrong people, thinking she was going to help them help him.
From where she stood, she could not interpret the lines and shadows of his face—and was there any real hope of discerning emotion with his face wrapped in cloth? With or without the bandages, she still did not know him, was not familiar or even truly acquainted with the man. There is nothing between you and me, her inner voice pointed out.
"Are you curious?" When she blinked at him, he added, "Why I called for you?"
The Captain spoke of his apparent interest in discussing the poem with her, but that could not be the real reason for the summons. Even bedridden, there were other ways to allay his boredom, and any one of the guests was likely better company than her when it came to idle chit-chat. "A little. I don't think I understand w-w-why I'm here."
"And that is why you stand in the corner, behind the others? Because," he gave a small cough, "you are uncertain?" She paused only a moment before slowly nodding. "But you are curious." This time it wasn't a question. A short sigh passed through his lips as he adjusted his head on the pillow, tilting his head towards her. "Are you afraid to come closer? I cannot speak louder…"
Her eyes widened and she quickly moved forwards until she was beside the bed, her head bowed apologetically. "I am not—I—I'm terribly sorry, I w-wa-wasn't thinking."
There was an IV drip connected to his forearm, an ugly yellow-green fluid making its way through the tube and into his bloodstream. It didn't seem right.
"It helps." The Commander caught her staring, and she fumbled for an excuse.
"I'm sure… I'm not familiar w-w-with medicine." Or healthcare of any sort.
She became keenly aware that he was watching her. Unlike in their previous interactions, he was lucid, if not a little weary. It had never occurred to her how difficult it was to meet his gaze when it was focused. Not that it made her feel threatened; on the contrary, it was quite alluring. In as horrible condition as his body appeared, his eyes were beautiful, glowing like the last traces of life in a smoldering hearth. I'll bet he was attractive when he was young. Not anymore, but…to have such a strong influence and receive all this support from the others, he must be a charismatic leader. Maybe this is how everyone feels around him? She wasn't sure that she liked it.
"I read the poem. 'The Second Coming.'" Some of the tension left her at the change of subject. Eager to discuss something else, she smiled a little.
"You did? W-w-what did you think? I w-won't be insulted if you say you didn't like it…"
"It was ominous, beautifully written, thought-provoking," he listed out for her, as if such qualities could be found in any piece of poetry. "There is a lot of symbolism… A lot to discuss… The last time we were alone, there wasn't much time for talking… I asked you about Bethlehem." His eyelids lowered, as if the memory was tiresome.
"…I think I remember."
"I said that the next time we met, we would talk about the beast… I'm still interested…in your beast." He seemed winded talking so much, his chest rising sharply with labored breaths beneath the blankets in the ensuing silence.
"The beast?" Her voice was hardly above a whisper.
"Your beast," the man corrected with a huff. "What did you see in the hall?" He lowered his voice to a hum, the strain of controlling his breathing bringing about a small fit of coughing. His eyes seemed to glisten in the light of the bedside lamp, appearing so much brighter nestled amidst the shadows that fell across the planes of his face.
Mineko licked her lips and shifted from one foot to the other, feeling the corner of the mattress press against her leg. This was why he called her back. He didn't really want to talk about the poem; he wanted to talk about her.
"I think…no matter w-w-what I say, I'm going to be called a liar. I mean, schi-izophrenic—mentally ill." It was the prelude to a story, the standard script that ushered in a complicated and far-fetched explanation that—at first—was not to be believed, and only taken seriously after the occurrence of a miracle or disaster. Her mouth turned upwards, but she did not feel the proper emotion behind the fleeting smile. The air in the room felt thick. She turned and looked over her shoulder, her gaze moving from one corner of the room to another and flittering back to the dark of the bathroom between them. "I'm so-orry, I don't mean to leave you in suspense. But I don't thi-ink I should talk about it." She faced forwards again, the darkness creeping at her back. "I don't want to talk about i-i-it," she clarified.
The man was quiet after she said so; perhaps he expected her to say something different. Most people would probably jump at the chance to share a secret with a stranger—if not to lift the burden of keeping it to themselves, then at least to give a glimpse of the truth to someone else. But she had lived with her secret for much of her short life, keeping it hidden from others out of fear and selfishness. At some point it became a part of who she was.
"Do you need to sit down, Matsumoto-san?" Without a word, she grabbed the nurse's folding chair and set it facing the Commander. She sat down and adjusted the chair's position again, then brushed her hair over her shoulder and folded her hands in her lap, frowning all the while. Phrased carefully, spoken pleasantly, he had asked about something private. And she didn't know if that meant he was genuinely interested in her or fishing for information. It made her cautious.
"If you had told them that I wanted to speak with you again, they would not have made you leave." Mineko tilted her head up a fraction to look him in the eyes, wondering why he back-tracked from his earlier question. Despite the soft light, she fought to keep the blush off her face.
"I know," she admitted. "It di-id not feel appropriate…to use you as an excuse. I decided that i-it would be better if I left. I don't thi-i-ink I'll be of much help with so many people here. Cleaning and keeping out of the w-w-way…" A small, real smile lit her expression as she shook her head, imagining herself trailing behind black suits and blue uniforms with a broom and a dust pan. She rubbed her hands together, feeling the rough brush of callouses against her fingertips. "I'm sure you can tell, my routine i-is more centered on manual labor than attendi-ing to guests. Maria-san has some nursing experience and she's served Sakata-san much longer than I have, so she's more adaptable. I kno-o-ow how to be polite, and I can offer some help, but… Actually… The truth i-is… I didn't think you cared i-i-if I came back or not." She quieted, realizing that the Commander's eyes were closed. Upset that her words meant so little, she aimed a frown at him that dissolved in seconds. She couldn't remember if she had ever seen him sleep—wasn't sure how well he could sleep without drugs.
Her expression softened. "I'll let you rest." She moved slowly, quietly, standing to excuse herself. He opened his eyes and caught her as she was tip-toeing around the chair.
"Matsumoto-san?" His voice cracked, and he coughed. When he moved his hand away from his mouth, fresh drops of blood glistened for an instant before seeping into the bandages around his fingers. "If I asked you to stay…here, at the manor…would you?"
Her hands found their way to the back of the chair and curled tightly around it. She looked at her knuckles, certain that they were bone-white, even though the lamplight painted them a golden yellow. He sounded like he was asking, but was he really? Eventually she lifted her face, because if he had been listening to everything she just told him, she didn't believe she could make him understand how irrational such a request was. The green-eyed man stared back, offering no counsel, nothing to indicate if there was a right or wrong answer, or which one he wanted to hear.
Mineko let go of the chair.
"Yes." She did not elaborate, but reached for a tissue and offered it to him, her gaze lingering on the smeared blood between his lips. "I w-will call your nurse." He lifted his hand and ignored the tissue, hooking his fingers around her wrist instead. The contact startled her, although his grip was weak.
"Will you?" He wasn't asking for the nurse.
"I don't thi-i-ink the others would approve," she said in a hushed voice, her smile grim. "And I can't help people who-o don't want help."
The Commander seemed to mull over her words while he slipped his hand down her wrist to her palm, taking the tissue when their hands parted. For a moment he ignored her as he wiped his mouth, giving a small grunt when his tongue brushed over a patch of scarlet on his lower lip. She offered another tissue and kept her hand out, thinking he would wish her to dispose of the used one. After rubbing away the last traces of blood, he looked up at her, the dirty tissues crumpling in his hands.
"Will you stay for me?" There was a gurgle in the back of his throat as if he needed to cough again, but he did not. Instead, he picked his head up and leaned forward, the strain evident in his neck and shoulders as he peeled himself away from the pillows. His spine curved as his shoulders hunched, and when he looked at her again, he had to tip his head back to compensate for the poor posture. He could not straighten his back.
Her outstretched hand dropped a few inches. "I do-don't think I can help you. Why…?" She averted her gaze, suddenly uncomfortable at the sight of him. "W-w-w-what can I do for you?"
"I would like someone…to talk to," he sighed. Mineko already had a response on her tongue, but he continued. "Time moves slowly…when you're confined to a…a bed, all day. Would…you humor…this sick creature…?" He brought a tissue to his lips and cleared his throat, swallowing thickly a couple of times. "…Until he is well enough to stand?" As he panted, his entire body seemed to tremble, his upper torso tipped forward precariously. The vibrant color on his lips had returned.
Mineko perched her hands in the air above his shoulders, uncertain if she should touch him. "Lean back. Please, lean back again." It took her a few seconds to find her composure. She settled one hand on his shoulder and cupped the back of his head. "I'll get you another tis-issue, and then I'll get the nurse…" Cradling him backwards, she heard his breath stutter as he eased into the pillows. "There," she whispered, sliding her hands out from beneath his narrow frame. The tissues could wait; he needed medical care. Her eyes met his. There was pain, and exhaustion, and determination, but they did not compare to the anticipation. He was waiting for her answer.
She turned her head away, calling over her shoulder. "Nurse!" Then, a little louder, "Nurse!"
The door hit the wall with enough force to send it swinging back towards the frame, disrupting the flow of officers into the room.
"What happened?" The nurse was at her side in an instant, and Mineko retreated farther down the bed to give him more room to examine the patient.
"We w-w-were talking and he sat up." Another light was turned on, its radiance white and glaring compared to the bedside lamp's. "He seemed to have trouble breathing, and the blood from hi-is mouth…" She looked from the nurse to the Commander, whose eyes were narrowed to slits from the lighting change, his mouth pulled into a tight line. He didn't look her way.
Someone put a hand on her shoulder and she spun around to face a black suit she didn't recognize.
"He'll escort you back to the car." It was the Captain who addressed her from the foot of the bed. "Thank you for coming, Matsumoto-san. I'm sorry your visit had to be cut short."
"I understand." Her reply was automatic. Time was moving too fast for her thoughts to catch up as people moved in and out of the room, side conversations and mutters rising into a drone that filled the space like a chorus of flies. Nakamura approached the bedside, and she felt herself being guided towards the door, detached.
"Wait." She turned from the bed to the man walking her out. "W-wait just a minute." He frowned in a manner that suggested he wasn't willing to tolerate arguing. "I need to tell him…" She pointed in the direction of the bed, and the black suit followed the trajectory as it settled on no one in particular. Jerking her arm free, she darted around a woman leaving the room, ignoring the noise of protest from her escort as she headed for the highest ranking female officer.
"Captain! I w-wanted to tell you…" The woman turned her head, her dark eyes expressing what she did not say. Mineko stopped short. "I'm comi-ing back. I mean, I'm staying." The room got a little quieter as the uniformed men and woman standing on either side of the Captain paused to look her way. Mineko took a couple of steps closer—not because she wanted to be near any of the guests—but because she didn't want the entire room overhearing her. "He asked me to stay here—the Commander. I decided I w-would. I wanted to let you kno-o-ow."
The Captain stared at her as if she was speaking another language. Her lips parted a fraction and then she slowly turned to look at her superior. "Take her into the hall and wait for me there. Everyone else, leave." The noise level died down on account of the observed silence. One of the bystanders must have sent her a questioning look, for she snapped her head sharply and warned, "Get out."
This time Mineko did not stop the black suit from guiding her towards the exit, avoiding making eye contact as she walked out into the hall. Behind her, the door shut with a rattle.