'An Eye For An Eye, A Tooth For A Tooth.'
-Draconian Law
Chapter 2: May Break Bones
The sound of laughter and shouts filled the
empty schoolyard as students released streamed across it. A fresh scent
hung in the air, damp evidence of the passing rain from the west. In the
grey pavement, small, oblong puddles of water formed, reflective and mirrorlike
in the sunlight from above. Occasionally, one of these puddles was shattered
by a footstep running though it, off to another place, away from school.
Voices carried up as someone broke out a ball, tossing it between friends.
A girl walked here, silently. She wore her
disguise carefully, you see, so that no one would see her. Her hair clung
just so around her face, allowing her to peer owlishly ahead, and glance
to the sides, yet veil her as much as possible from others. Over her school
uniform, a baggy black sweatshirt-jacket, hanging around her voluminously,
letting her hide in the comforting folds. It was a safety blanket, large
enough for her to retreat in, disappear in. Her body was bent slightly,
as though she were protecting something. Herself, you see. Enemies could
be anywhere. She wrapped her arms carefully around her books, and a deck
of cards atop them. These were precious things to her. Carefully guarded.
Suspicion was in her stance and carriage, and worried wariness. This was
her gauntlet. Terror. Every day, she ran this gauntlet, the steps between
the doors of the school and the road outside it. If she got to the street,
she was only a few steps from being home free. Knotted worry, nearing panic,
in her stomach. Senses alerted to danger. Heart rate high. This wasn't
a safe place. Her fists were tight, nails pressed into the flesh of her
palms. Almost there. Almost there. People streaming past her, ignoring
her. Just a few more steps, a few more, almost there. Oh no....
A boy ran around her, stopping and grabbing
her arm. She caught her breath fearfully as he used her to swing himself
around, back, forth, like a basketball player trying to get around the
owner of the ball. A human shield, blocking something else. Then a laugh
as he released her with a shove, scurrying off as he shouted back to his
friends. She staggered a step, feeling her socks get wet in a random puddle.
A choking laugh, almost hysterical. False alarm. Keep going. Just a few
more steps. Straightened herself out, took another step.
Then the pain connected, and blackness spun
into her vision as she felt herself collapse into the ground. A sharp crack
as bones too close to the skin hit pavement. Water splashed up over her
face, muddying it. Getting into her mouth, making her spit to clean it
out. She heard small dull thuds as her books and cards went flying, and
she saw them in a fluttering flown arc around where she landed, cheek against
cement. Pain scraped her face, and soreness up and down her right side.
Spitting again, she turned her head painfully,
seeing a basketball lying an armslength away, in a pool of dirty rainwater.
It rolled slightly, and was still. She made a choking sound, reaching up
to her face to see if she had a nosebleed. Though there was a smear of
blood, it was not streaming. Her shoulders heaved as she fought panic.
Every day, something. Every day. Oh god, every fucking day....
Laughter.
She pulled herself up, seeing the array of
paper and book and card around her, the images turned upward, dirtied and
messy.
Laughter.
In pain and disbelief, she touched her face,
wincing as she felt grains of rock from the cement buried there, mixed
with dirt and blood from a scraping. She wiped her nose on the back of
her hand, trying to clean herself up as much as she could in a moment.
It was an involuntary response, the wiping. Who wouldn't? No tissue nearby.
"Oh, ew, look! She's wiping snot all over
herself!"
"How disgusting!"
Her eyes, sky blue, distant blue, grew hard
as she turned to look at the voices. A handful of people, staring at her.
Oh, stop staring, please stop staring...don't look at me, just leave me
alone. She wasn't completely impervious to fury. The look was enough to
cause one of the tall girls to say, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Yume-chan. We were
aiming for him," absently, she pointed at the boy behind her, who was laughing
and looking slightly sheepish for the accident. To this, she swiveled between
them, looking at the boy, then the girl.
She tried to gather herself up. Stop making
fun...they had to stop making fun....
"You did that on purpose!" Yume accused, gathering
herself inside her safe, warm jacket of black. "You hit me on purpose!"
She felt a sickness rise up at the back of her throat, acidic and hot.
It made her choke, and the words cut hoarsely, as though a curse.
"I just said," the girl declared loudly, "that
I was sorry, okay? I was aiming for him. What do you want?" With that,
she flipped a lock of thin, dark blonde hair over a shoulder. It swung,
laying perfectly. To her mind, at least.
Yume perversely tried again, desperately.
"It doesn't take that long to throw a ball, Kutsu! He wasn't even near
me anymore!"
Her opponent's face drew tight, purpling.
Anyone who didn't worship her would have noticed the little vein bulging
in her neck. "So then what? Are you accusing me of lying? How dare you
accuse me of lying! Stupid cow!" The girl grew tired of the argument and
tried to put it to an end, curling her lip up in distaste, or disgust.
"Why do I even try? You're not even worth the effort!" Kutsu sniffed, trying
to look cute as she did so, trying not to sneer. Sneering was for the villain,
and Kutsu could never do anything wrong, oh no, not Kutsu.
She flipped her hair, the other shoulder this
time, and turned around in a huff, motioning to her friends. Let's get
away from here, she says. This isn't fun anymore. Let's go.
Until she let out a shriek of absolute rage.
Something flew past her arm. Something big and round and orange. A basketball,
thrown from the fingers of the girl on the ground. Yume, a look of pure
astonishment on her face. Disbelief, you see, that she could launch a ball
that hard, from that distance, on the ground. Yume wasn't that strong.
Oh no, not Yume, the stupid cow. She wasn't worth anything at all, how
could she?
"You got my shirt dirty!" Batting wildly at
her arm, she tried to slap off the mud and dirty water that clung there.
Several girls huddled around the shrieking figure, helping her to slap
at it, as though this would solve the problem, if they just beat at it
long enough. Kutsu seemed to realize this, then broke free of the huddle
of girls around her, pointing at Yume, a hand still hanging in the air,
in the silence filled with muted stares. "You got my uniform dirty!"
It wasn't just a statement, it was a curse.
Yume was already regretting it. She knew what
this meant. If things had been bad before, they would be even worse now.
Stupid, stupid...stupid cow, just like Kutsu said. If she was smart she
wouldn't have to deal with this. No, if she were smart and pretty- like
Kutsu- then she wouldn't have to run the gauntlet. Wouldn't have to fear
this everyday. Wouldn't have been dumb enough to try to retaliate. No,
if she were like Kutsu, then she'd have friends shrieking injustice with
her, helping her up, offering a handkerchief to wipe the dirt away. That
pointed finger was the way to a curse, a nightmare that Yume was going
to have to experience. She didn't know how it could get worse, but it could.
Kutsu was very good at discovering what humiliated Yume. Why? Whywhywhyohwhy?
"I'm going to have to buy a new shirt!"
"We'll help you pick something out," one of
her friends said, shooting a dirty look at Yume. "Come on."
There were calls as the friend ushered the
others away, taking charge as there were exclamations of protest against
Yume, awful Yume, stupid bitch Yume, still sitting on the ground covered
in mud and dirt and blood.
Yume sat and stared down at the spreading
of books and cards at her feet. Pretty cards, from an antique shop downtown.
Images of men and women in bright clothing, some smiling, some frowning,
some pained. Wands and cups and swords and spears, up and down, straight
and reversed. She wouldn't cry. No, that would be for home. Home where
she could lock herself in her room, smother her sobs with a pillow. And
eat. Eat the potato chips she smuggled into her room. And maybe the candy
bar. Yeah, the carmel one. Those were comforting. Yes. Nice, safe home.
Home with the bathroom, and the shattered mirror.
"Gomen nasai," came a voice softly. A pale
hand appeared in her vision, the veil of hair not shutting it out. "I saw
what they did...gomen...I wish I had come faster...I'm so slow at running.
Gomen nasai," the voice apologized again, and Yume looked up to see a worried
face. Her eyes widened at that face, so worried and angry, violet eyes
sending dark looks at the backs of the retreating crowd around Kutsu. "I'm
not so strong. My sister tells me she isn't either. Here," the strange
young woman offered, fishing around in a small purse, drawing out kleenexes
from the pocket. "Blow your nose. Not too hard, it will open it again....
It isn't good to let the blood flow like that. Pinch, at the bridge," the
stranger urged, motioning to her own.
Yume obeyed, not sure what else to do. Someone
helping her? This person wasn't a teacher. She was scooping up the books,
a look of shock on her face. "Such disrespect to books!" was muttered darkly,
as she delicately picked up the volumes of math and science. "And so well
printed too. Such terrible people, ne? Gomen ne, gomen..." She stacked
the books before Yume, then began to gather up the cards. After a moment,
she selected a card of a woman on a chair, wearing a cloak of starlight.
A crescent sat on her brow, and her eyes were distant and knowing. Those
eyes blinked as she looked at the detailing, the once vibrant colors faded
with age. "So beautiful. What are these?" she asked as she gathered up
another, a peculiar image of a jester in motley, hanging upside down by
a foot off a wooden cross.
"Tarot cards," Yume replied, puzzled, both
at the question at the woman's behavior. Sensing that her nose was well
enough stopped, she released it, and began to hurriedly collect the cards
as well, hastily snatching them from the hands across from her. "Arigatou."
"You're welcome," was the reply, and Yume nearly leapt away in
surprise as she felt a hand at her elbow, helping her up. Gathering herself
into herself again, Yume tried to examine the stranger, her surroundings,
and control her things again. The people had faded out, and the sounds
of teenage life were retreating to football fields and clubs. Her deck
was in disarray, but then, so was she. And the young woman across from
her was composed, face serenely worried as she waited for Yume to give
her some signal that she was okay. Oh, if she could be that pretty. With
such a pretty small face, and long flowing hair and worried eyes such an
unusual color. And such a look of simple elegance. Almost from another
time. Embarrassed and afraid she was staring, Yume stuttered, "Arigatou...gomen
nasai."
"Hai," came a nervous laugh. "Are you sure
you're all right? You don't need to see a healer, do you? A..." there was
a pause, and her face drew tight as though trying to think of something.
After a moment, it lit, and she exclaimed, "doctor! Ne?"
"No...I'm okay...."
A look of relief passed like a ray of light
over her face. "Ah. Okay is good. I am..." she paused, then beamed beatifically,
"Tomoe Kami. It is a pleasure to meet you." She bowed, deeply and formally,
sending Yume into complete confusion. A pleasure to meet her? Why a pleasure
to meet her? But the kindness did not go unpassed on Yume, who shyly bowed
back, saying,
"Fukushu Yume."
Kami's face clouded briefly, uncertainly as
she heard the name. But after a moment, Kami dismissed it with a shake
of her head. This Yume person was very frightened. Fear radiated from her
clearly, and Kami could almost see it visibly, like an aura. She drew away
and into herself, retreating.
"I've got to go," Yume said after a moment
of growing discomfort. She was shifting from foot to foot, trying to steady
herself.
"Are you sure you're all right? You-"
"I'm fine. I've got to go. It was nice to
meet you, Kami-san." And Yume brushed around and by Kami, almost running
for the street, head down and clutching her books desperately.
"Matte..." Kami began, nearly taking a step
forward towards the girl's retreating back. Then she paused, hand falling
down to her side. She was gone, sprinting away from the destination Kami
had been searching for all day. Biting her lip, she was indecisive, wanting
to speak to Yume further. Something was certainly not right about the girl.
So much pain surrounds her. Those girls.
I wish I knew what they said. A second thought, maybe I do not. Cruelty
on such a subtle level. Hatred for what? People fear what they do not understand.
And it is easier to hate than to love, I suppose.
"Kami-chan?" A familiar voice.
"What are you doing here?" Another familiar
voice.
Kami turned and saw Ami and Minako approaching,
both with jaws down. "Ah! Kanashimi-chan! Minako-chan!" Kami turned with
a smile, recovering from her reverie on Yume and her problems. "I came
to visit you!"
There were blinks from Ami and Minako, staring
at Kami. Finally, Ami asked, "Kami-chan, how did you get here? Did Setsuna-san
bring you?"
"Iie, she's up at the observatory, working.
I walked."
There were stares. "You walked from home?
To here? Kami, when did you leave?"
She thought about that for a second. "Ah,
well, the little hand was on the ten, and the long one was between the
six and the seven. So..." she frowned as she calculated, thinking though.
These new hour systems were strange to her still. But she was getting used
to it. "ten thirty-two," she concluded with a firm nod. "Hai. Ten thirty-two.
Nan desu ka?"
"Kami-chan, that's several kilometers to walk
through all of Juuban. How did you find our school?"
Kami's face fell a bit at their disbelieving
behavior. "You are not happy to see me then? Was this a bad time? I went
to Hotaru-chan's school yesterday, and I wanted to see where everyone else
went...is Usagi-sama not with you? Or Mako-chan or Rei-chan?"
"Well," Minako managed, "Rei goes to TA Private
Girls School, not here...Mako-chan's got cooking club, and Usagi-chan had
to make up a test." Minako grinned, rummaging briefly though her bag and
producing a test paper with a red 84% on it, proof that she had better
than passed this one. "Ami-chan and I are stuck without clubs today...Coach
is sick and volleyball practice got canceled."
"And they've been installing new computers
in the lab all day today," Ami sighed wistfully. "They'll be nice when
they're in, but I don't see why they had to close the lab all day. I couldn't
study at lunchtime."
Minako gave Ami an odd look, shaking her head
and leaning in and whispering to Kami, "She needs to get out more. Studying
at lunch is bad for health." Minako put a hand to her heart dramatically,
as though in pain.
"Truly?" Kami asked, a little surprised. You
would think studying should help a person....Ah well. Then perhaps it is
bad that I ask to see their school today. "That's too bad. I was hoping
you could help me then."
"Sure," Minako offered, shoving her test paper
back into the bag and falling into step with Kami, who had turned and begun
to walk out. Ami hurried to keep up, the three walking in a line, Kami
in the center. "With what?"
"Michiru-chan says that I have to get more
clothes, because hers do not fit me as well as they should. Setsuna-san
has made me some of my new clothes," she ran a hand meaningfully over her
long denim skirt, which brushed the tops of low boots. Then she smiled
and touched the necklace Mamoru had given her a couple days ago. The silver
stood out cleanly against the black material of her shirt, gleaming white.
"We went shoe shopping first, since my feet are smaller than theirs," she
blushed slightly pink, "except for Hotaru-chan, who is still growing. And
then there didn't seem to be time. I thought perhaps we could go to a store.
Michiru-chan told me about a thing called a...mall? Hai, mall. And that
they sell fabrics there already made into clothes."
"Shopping spree!" Minako shouted, linking
an arm though Kami's, dragging her forward more rapidly than Kami could
walk. "And we can get your ears pierced, too!" She lowered her voice conspiratorially,
adding, "It's not right that a senshi not have distinctive earrings. It's
part of the rules, I swear."
"Hai," Kami laughed, getting caught up in
Minako's enthusiasm. "Kanashimi-chan, I also want to see a book-selling
place. Do you know a good one?"
"Of course," Ami smiled, hurrying to keep
up with Minako's fast pace. Anything that headed towards the mall or the
arcade was a fast walk for the Pretty Soldier of Love. "Have you begun
to read 'Alice In Wonderland,' then?"
"Hai," Kami nodded seriously. "She fell down
the great rabbit hole, and met the maddened people. But it is very slow
for me to read it sometimes. Hotaru-chan and Setsuna-san help me, but the
motionless picture story of the Magical Knights is also helping. I can
see what they're doing too, and that sometimes helps."
Ami stared, but Minako laughed, shaking a
finger at Ami. "See? Manga can be educational, too!"
"But it's not classical literature, Minako-chan."
"Ah, but Kanashimi-chan, such stories use
many elements in them. I have also been reading Setsuna's gift, and it
says that long ago, people used pictures called," she carefully pronounced
the words, "cu-ne-i-form and hi-ero-glyph-ics, to tell stories. It was
their original language, and even Chinese and kanji are based on highly
stylized images. A story told by pictures is an ancient form of art. I
should very much like to see more of the story of the girl Knights in Cephiro."
"Hah! Another otaku is born!" Minako crowed
cheerfully, and the three girls headed down the street, towards the Juuban
shopping district.
Into a quiet house slipped Fukushu Yume. She
peered around the doorframe, ears pricked up to hear any sounds. Mother
would be home this time of day, back from the day in the busy office. Silently,
Yume pushed the door to a close, then locked it behind her, letting out
a quiet sigh of relief. Home. Home where she could find some peace and
quiet. Let Mother be a bit late today. Get inside, have those chips and
that candy bar. Oh yes, that would be good. And change clothes. Shed the
hated school uniform.
She looked around the foyer, peering into
the den. Empty...so far, so good. Just a few steps to the stairs, then
her room. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror of
the hall tree, and felt herself pale. The blood from her cheek had dried
to a crisp brown, and a bruise was swelling up underneath, turning her
to a shade of sickly purple. She touched the rough spots with her fingertips,
feeling the roughness of scraped skin.
"Yume!"
She whirled away from the mirror, seeing her
mother standing in the shadowed archway to the kitchen. Perfect Mother,
standing there in a tank top and shorts, her usual workout outfit. Blonde
hair up in a ponytail, still not sweaty from aerobics. And her perfect
face was drawn up in concern and surprise, mouth open as she gasped, "What
in the world happened? Are you all right?"
Mother crossed the space between them, leaning
down to touch her daughter's face. Yume pulled away, stepping backward
and clutching her books and cards tightly to her chest. "Gomen ne, Mother."
"Yume, what on Earth...?"
Can't tell Mother, oh no, can't tell Mother.
Not perfect Mother. Then she'd have to worry about Yume. Hurricane Mother,
Perfect Model Mother, storming the school, demanding to know what terrible
person or persons were harming her child. Her precious, darling little
girl. Yume knew what that would result in. Mother, in her best Donna Karan
Power Suit, briefcase in hand, and Father's lawyers in tow. Mother with
her hair up, feet in high heels, blasting into the Principal's Office,
screaming injustice, screaming can't teachers do anything? What kind of
school was this? What has the educational system come to? And everyone
would know, and Kutsu would know, pretty perfect Kutsu, who would still
see Yume during the day.
"Gomen ne, Mother," Yume kept her eyes down,
away, hoping Mother would interpret this as embarrassment. "Gomen. I was
playing catch with some friends, and I was clumsy. I missed, and...gomen
ne, I'm afraid I'm not so coordinated."
The perfectly made up face of Mother relaxed
from concern. Then it deepened into a mild anger, laced with annoyance.
"Your Father has invited two very important clients over for dinner this
evening. They're preparing the new Summer Catalog, and I'm having food
catered in." Mother's stance grew formidable as she placed hands on hips,
and her brows drew into a graceful frown. "I was supposed to present
a young, elegant daughter. You know how important it is for us to keep
up appearances, Yume-chan. Go upstairs and clean yourself up. And get ready
for tonight. They'll be here at seven. Wear the dress I've laid out for
you on your bed."
"Hai, Mother."
She felt her mother's eyes on her back as
she ascended the stairs, as quickly and quietly as she could. Yume tried
to be silent on the steps, but the house was aging, and the floorboards
did not cooperate with her attempts at quiet. Slipping into her room, she
heard a light pounding from below, music cranked up as her mother began
her daily workout. Keep those small waists, firm thighs. Buns of steel!
Destroy those flabby arms! Perfection is all in the eye of the public,
and Mother and Father knew exactly what to show.
"Oh yes, must keep up appearances. It just
wouldn't do to show them how ugly your dear daughter is, would it? No,
not at all." Yume closed the door to her room, and looked at the dress
on her bed. It was a shade of pale green, a perfect offset to her hair
color. Loose and flowing from an Empire waistline. One of the new fashions,
and Yume would be presenting it on the live mannequin of herself. Strappy
golden sandals sat at the foot of her bed, and she looked at them, kicking
them over with a toe.
Her room was dull with light, the yellows
reflecting the browns of her furniture, not quite complimenting the falsely
cheery pale pink of her bedspread. Fluffy white pillows declared it a welcome
spot. Yume dumped her dirty books on the clean white pillows, looking at
the dirty spots circle around the clean white. She took perverse pleasure
in seeing the whiteness turn dingy. "I never liked those pillows anyway,"
she told herself with satisfaction, picking up the dress with a hand. She
wrinkled her nose, tossing it back to the bed. She shrugged out of her
comfortable jacket, pulled off her shirt, kicked off her shoes and wriggled
out of her skirt. Bones poked dangerously close to the surface of her skin,
and she picked up the green dress again, holding it up to her, standing
before the mirror on her desk, strewn with papers and pencils and incomplete
drawings. She pulled the dress down over her head, smoothing the folds
out over her angular body. It covered her thinly, clinging to her hips
and small breasts, showing the first bones of her ribcage. "Ah, I'm finally
losing some weight," she smiled, then bent over and pulled open a drawer,
fishing around for the candy bar at the back of it. She peeled back the
wrapper, biting into it and staring at herself in the reflective glass.
She sighed, and slipped on her yellow shoes, tottering slightly as she
returned to the mirror. Blood and dirt still clotted her face, and now
a slight smudge of chocolate smeared her chin. She grinned, candy still
in her mouth.
You hate them, don't you?
She nodded at the mirror, polishing off her candy bar. She tossed
the wrapper and foil into her wastepaper basket, wiping her hands off on
her knees. "They hate me."
And look what they did to you. Look how
much uglier you are now.
Yume nodded again, tilting her head at the
reflection. The room there seemed so much darker than in hers, the muted
lights that filtered though her curtains gone, as though it were night
already.
She turned away, not wanting to think about
parading as the Perfect Daughter again tonight. Screw Father's clients.
She wanted to stay in her room and draw and sleep. On the bed, Yume picked
up her deck of cards, running loving hands over the images on them, smiling
at the familiar faces of the deck. The Jester, the Empress, the Hanged
Man, the Queen of Swords, the Star, the Moon, the Devil. They were wrought
so prettily, though faded with age.
Look how they ruined your cards.
Yume's dirty face drew up into a grimace as
she ran across the card of the High Priestess, a dark smudge of filth across
her face. The card was in reverse, and Yume turned it towards her, looking
at how the folds fell around the woman's body. She wished she had the talent
of this artist. How carefully rendered was the cloak of starlight, how
delicate the crescent on her brow.
Flip, flip.
She turned the cards over in her hands, kneeling
on the floor before her desk. Flip flip, went the cards, forming the familiar
Celtic Cross of divination. Flip, flip.
One beside each other, one on top the other,
reverse, straight, dirty, clean. Flip, flip. Flipflipflip.
Wouldn't you like to make them stop?
"Oh yes, I would," Yume replied to the voice
in her mind. It wasn't her voice, and it never ordered her to do anything.
She wasn't sure who it was, but sometimes she thought she could see the
woman's shadow if she turned quickly enough. She shuffled the cards, then,
flip, flip, flipflip. The voice was so kind to her, talking quietly about
things Yume didn't know. A castle on the moon, and an evil Queen who had
lived there. Flip, flipflip. Flip.
She stopped, looking at her spread of cards
on the carpet. "Oh, look," she told the woman with her, the invisible shadow
woman. "Did I tell you about how to read the Tarot spread?"
No. Tell me.
Yume smiled, encouraged that the woman would
listen. "You see, the cards themselves are very important. But many people
make fun of them, because they were made by other people. They say, 'Well,
when do they put the magic in, Yume?' This is silly. The magic is in the
person reading the cards, not the paper or the ink used the print them.
It takes a very strong person to use the magic fully. And you can't just
look at one card or another. You have to look at the whole spread to see
the whole picture. Otherwise, all you have are fragments that don't make
sense."
Ah, I see. So then the power is within
you.
"Oh, I'm not that strong," Yume admitted,
embarrassed.
Oh, but you are! Your dreams are very powerful.
"If my dreams were powerful, then I wouldn't..."
her voice trailed off weakly as she touched the mess of her face. "Ah,
baka me. I need to wash my face...I'm such a mess...this is so silly."
Yume sighed.
No!
Yume turned sharply to the mirror, eyes wide
to see the shadowy form almost solid. Darkness flowed around the edges
of the mirror, absorbing the brightness within Yume's room.
You and I are alike. My power is your power.
It is within you, Yume-chan. Use it.
She felt a brutal blow against her face. Spitting
again, she turned her head painfully, seeing a basketball lying an armslength
away, in a pool of dirty rainwater. It rolled slightly, and was still.
She made a choking sound, reaching up to her face to see if she had a nosebleed.
Though there was a smear of blood, it was not streaming. Her shoulders
heaved as she fought panic. Every day, something. Every day. Oh god, every
fucking day....
Laughter.
She pulled herself up, seeing the array of
paper and book and card around her, the images turned upward, dirtied and
messy.
Laughter.
"Stop it!" Yume pleaded, squeezing her eyes
shut, hands over her ears, voice a shouted whisper, reliving the afternoon.
What do your cards say, Yume-chan?
"They have to stop making fun..." Yume protested
weakly. In pain and disbelief, she touched her face, wincing as she felt
grains of rock from the cement buried there, mixed with dirt and blood
from a scraping. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, trying to
clean herself up as much as she could in a moment. It was an involuntary
response, the wiping. Who wouldn't? No tissue nearby.
"Oh, ew, look! She's wiping snot all over
herself!"
"How disgusting!"
What do your cards say, Yume-chan?
She looked down at the cards with eyes the
color of the empty sky, the familiar faces turned up to hers. "Oh, that's
easy. They say I am about to go though a change, and that I should be careful."
Pick up your cards, Yume-chan.
She picked up her cards, placing them in her
hands gently, then shuffled them carefully, flip, flipflip.
The power is within the person using them,
not the cards themselves. The ability to use them is my gift to you, Yume-chan.
Use them, and seal this bargain, Yume-chan. Use them!
If things had been bad before, they would
be even worse now. Stupid, stupid...stupid cow, just like Kutsu said. If
she was smart she wouldn't have to deal with this. No, if she were smart
and pretty- like Kutsu- then she wouldn't have to run the gauntlet. Wouldn't
have to fear this everyday. Wouldn't have been dumb enough to try to retaliate.
No, if she were like Kutsu, then she'd have friends shrieking injustice
with her, helping her up, offering a handkerchief to wipe the dirt away.
That pointed finger was the way to a curse, a nightmare that Yume was going
to have to experience. She didn't know how it could get worse, but it could.
Kutsu was very good at discovering what humiliated Yume. Why? Whywhywhyohwhy?
"Oh, it doesn't have to be that way anymore
then, does it? Ah, well, in that case, I'll make them stop. I'll make all
of them stop. All over, they'll stop. I'll make them all stop."
She flung the cards in a circle around her,
and then was gone.
"Kami-chan!" Minako laughed, holding up a baby-tee
to the furiously blushing girl. "You can't think this is the old days anymore.
Everybody wears stuff like this now!" Minako stepped back a bit, holding
the 'Nippon cha-cha-cha' tee away from her, examining the back, then the
front. "It's even promoting the volleyball team! You have to try it on!"
I know that this is not like my original
era. I know that people walk around in less clothes than then. I know that
Kanashimi-chan and Minako-chan would not dress me in inappropriate clothing.
I know this, and I understand this. But there is so little there! And it
will be so tight!
"Minako-chan...." Kami tried to protest, and
was very grateful when Ami interrupted, by saying,
"Minako-chan, maybe this would be better.
Kami-chan is more used to wearing dresses than tee-shirts. Here, Kami-chan,
try this one on," she offered a dress on a hanger, a sundress of dark pink,
bits of black and yellow mixed into the plaid cloth. With a little trepidation,
Kami accepted the dress, trying to admire it for what it was, not what
she had hoped it would be.
There is no back to it! It's all little
laces, tied up! But...well, at least it is a dress....
"Okay," Kami agreed, holding it to her a bit.
"I'll try this one on, then."
Ami smiled, and Minako was nodding in agreement.
"I like it too," Minako said, as though her opinion were the final word
on the matter. The Soldier of Love had selected this store, an expensive
one, mainly because they were having an early sale. Racks of clothing were
marked ten, fifteen, twenty-five percent off, and there were discounts
up to fifty on the tables of clothing that were stylishly positioned though
the store. Music played over the radio, one of the programmed stations
for trendy stores, modern music carefully selected so that it would be
enjoyed by all. Other people drifted though the store, and the sounds of
cashiers ringing up customers was heard over the words, mingling with the
faint humming of people talking, others laughing, as Minako, Ami and Kami
were.
"So I go into one of these little rooms, and
put this on, to see if it fits?"
"Hai," Minako agreed, flopping herself down
in a cushy armchair in the back area. "Ah, now this is first class, all
the way," she snuggled in closer, and Ami sat herself down neatly on the
second chair, pulling out a book. "And when you get it on, make sure you
show us, first. We have to make sure it looks good on you," Minako finished
with a wink.
"But I thought Kanashimi-chan said it would
already-"
"Un! But you have to show it off!"
"Oh...okay...." Kami trailed uncertainly,
then retreated to a room, locking the door behind her. There was a rustling
of clothes a moment later, and Minako turned to Ami.
"She seems to be adapting pretty well, ne,
Ami-chan?"
"Considering what happened, hai. I'd still
like to know how she got to Michiru-san's house afterward." They spoke
in whispered, so that the nearby Kami would not hear the too well. "Just
appearing like that is odd."
Minako nodded thoughtfully, then they both
turned and smiled as the door opened tentatively, and they saw Kami poke
her head out, hair streaming down behind her. She blinked. "I can come
out?"
"Un!" Minako waved her over and stood. "Here,
in front of the mirror, so you can see yourself on all sides." She swept
a critical eye over Kami, who came to stand in judgment. "It'll do," Minako
decided with a tone of finality.
"I'm glad! I rather like the way the back
laces up, even though there's not much there," she said, turning and examining
her back. Kami used both hands to pull her hair over a shoulder, seeing
the smooth curve of the dress. She laughed, "It will look better when I
am not wearing socks!"
"Definitely! We'll have to go shopping for
sandals next!" Minako agreed with a laugh. "Kami, you'll have every man
in Juuban after you. Fresh blood."
Every man? Me? Oh dear. Doesn't she remember
my age...? Who'd want me, other than old widowers? That doesn't sound like
what she means....
"Minako-chan, that's very kind," Kami flushed, bunching
up the hem of the skirt in her fists. "But I'm quite the old maid now...I
doubt any men will be chasing after...." Kami trailed off, looking wide-eyed
between them as Minako and Ami stared at her with an unbelievable amount
of incredulity. "Nani?"
"Kami-chan," Ami managed, "You're only twenty."
And that's old....right...? Only twenty?
Oh no, am I off again? "And that's old," Kami asked uncertainly, "isn't
it...Kanashimi-chan?"
"This isn't the 11th century, Kami-chan,"
Minako informed her with a smile. "You just got about ten more years before
you have to go into panic mode. Nowadays, twenty is the prime of your life.
Lots of people don't even get married until they're in their mid-twenties,
or even late twenties."
Honto? They're kidding! "You're sure?"
Nods.
"Oh." Kami thought about that for a second.
Then her face lit up. "Then I can still get married! I thought I'd have
to cut my hair and become a nun!"
They stared a moment, then burst out into
laughter, as Kami giggled quietly a bit at her own joke. I hope they
don't think I was serious about that last part. Well, sort of. If I hadn't
fallen ill, I would have been eventually, after Papa died. And almost was,
even after. How odd that would seem now, me in the ash colored robes. So
bright the colors of this era! So...pink. Oh my. But it is pretty. I think
I will like this place.
A shrill laugh from the store interrupted their
own laughter in the dressing room in back, the sounds of some other shopping
girls on their day out as well. The laugh was calculated, just loud enough
to grab attention, but not high pitched enough to grate on the nerves.
I know that laugh.... Cruel, in a nice,
sweet way.
Kami paused, turning, and Minako and Ami a
moment later, seeing that the eldest of the three of them had suddenly
gotten a foul look on her face, lips tight and thin.
That's that awful girl from their school.
I should say something to her.
"Kami-chan, what is it?" Ami asked as she
saw Kami's face harden, violet-grey eyes locked on the three figures in
the center of the store.
"Those girls. They are from your school, and
they are very cruel to their classmates. Such rudeness and disrespect should
not be forgiven!" Kami began to walk forward, her intent quite clear. Minako,
however, intervened before Kami could go over and make a scene.
"Kami-chan, no, wait...don't, that's really
not a good idea," she pulled Kami back into the relative safety of the
dressing room area. The three way mirror reflected the outside, and there
was another peal of laughing, this time with encouragement from one of
the other friends. Ami ushered Kami in before her, and there was bewilderment
on the eldest's face.
"What is it? Why shouldn't I? What we fight
for is love and justice, ne? I do not see how their treatment of that girl
was either loving or just." Kami watched the mirror, the reflection of
the girls beyond the clothes racks. "It isn't right, what they did."
"Kami-san," Minako explained, a hint of warning
in her voice, "those girls are seniors at our school." Minako sent her
own look of distaste at them though the mirror, lips drawn thinly as she
watched them leave a mess at one of the tables. "That's Utsukushia Kutsu,
Chiisaino Yujin and Nikumu Kioku. You don't want to mess with them. They'll
walk all over you, Kami-chan."
"Walk on me?" Kami asked, face blank. "Ah,
another idiom," she waved a hand, ushering it away. "Minako-chan-"
"Kami-chan," Ami asked, positioning herself
physically between Kami and the exit to the dressing rooms. The movement
was as much psychological as physical, and Ami knew it. She looked her
friend in the face, trying to get her to understand. "What did you see?"
"They threw a large ball into a girl's face,
then laughed at her as she tried to get up. And screamed at her when she
fought back." Such subtle cruelty!
"It will make it worse, Kami-chan, if you
say anything to them," Ami advised firmly, and noticed that Minako had
copied her stance, just before the door, preventing any rash action on
Kami's part. "If you want to help the girl you saw, the best thing is not
to act here and now. It will only upset them further, and make them retaliate
against her. Onegai, Kami-chan?"
Kanashimi-chan, how can you stand to see
such things? Is this also what dragged you down? Pain from the world around
you? If so, then what of the girl...Yume, hai, Yume...what of her? What
will happen if she is unable to pull herself out of her nightmare? I have
been lazy. I have a duty, even as they do, and I have been too caught up
in this new life to pursue that duty. I have not even entered the World
of Dreams since Usagi-sama's battle with her Fury. I must find this Fukushu
Yume, and speak with her there. Kanashimi-chan and Minako-chan know how
people behave in these times better than I. It is nonsensical to me. I
will do what I can, from where I can. Tonight.
"Very well," Kami allowed, fingers tightening
on the fabric of the dress. "I will not defend her here." Kami turned and
headed back into the dressing room, shutting the door behind her.
Kutsu was laughing again.
She'd gotten her new dress for a wonderful
price, and, according to Yujin and Kioku, it looked great on her.
Yujin was getting herself a scarf and earrings from the jewelry section,
the expensive (but not quite real) gemstones glittering in prismatic slices
of rainbow. Kioku was quiet, as usual, but idly looking around the store,
absently examining her nails as the other two babbled about how hard it
was to clean dirt stains out of school uniforms. The brunette sighed as
the other two chattered pointlessly, and she began to inspect her surroundings
with a bit more interest. There had to be a guy or two hanging around...maybe.
Some unlucky male dragged to a sale with his sister. Yeah, right. It was
Kioku who felt a faint stirring of air over her face, just enough to send
a strand of hair into her eyes. So she turned and looked, and was startled.
Not so much by the appearance of Yume, but of the appearance of Yume. Standing
just within the glass doors of the shop. Kioku was not entirely heartless.
Seeing her classmate standing there, in a dirty pale green dress, blood
and dirt still clinging to her face, Kioku's mouth fell open in surprise,
and she made a small gasping noise. "Yume!"
The word exclaimed from her mouth was enough
to turn her two friends' heads, making faces frown at the interruption.
Kutsu's eyes narrowed slightly as she saw the other girl, standing in front
of them, eyes lowered, head bowed, hands full of those ridiculous cards.
Flip, flip, went the cards in Yume's hands. Flip, flipflipflip, as she
turned the top one over and over again. "I can't believe this," Kutsu muttered.
"She followed us! What does she think she's doing?" Leaving the table of
brightly colored cloth, Kutsu picked up her bags and went to stand before
Yume, who was clearly blocking her path.
Flip, flip, flip.
"Yume, what are you doing?" Kutsu sighed,
as though having great patience with the girl. There were, after all, people
around. It just wouldn't do for a nice, polite girl like Kutsu to be anything
but kindly with the obviously disturbed Yume. "You're filthy."
"Oh yes. Filthy on the outside," Yume agreed
after a moment, still with her eyes on her cards. Flip, flip, flip. "Doesn't
mean anything about inside." Flipflip. "Devil card," Yume said, holding
up the one she was turning. She did not look at the confused faces of the
three girls before her. "means ignorance. Foolishness. And you don't even
know it. Struggles between Light and Dark, Good and Evil. You know, if
you change...if you wake up, it can be banished. All the darkness will
just float away." She set the card back into the pile, then shuffled the
deck carefully, blending the elements, the powers, again. "I'd forgive
you, you know."
Kustu was confused. And when she was confused,
she lashed out, uncertainly. She didn't like to not be in control. Control
was everything to Kutsu. Yume was babbling, in her mind. Nonsensical nonsense.
Tarot cards, what garbage. Yume, stupid Yume. What was wrong with her,
stalking her like that, following them like that? Not even cleaning herself
up! Idiot. "Get out of my way, Yume." Kutsu tried to move past the inflappable,
eerie girl, but found that she could not move.
"Why do you hate me so, Kutsu?"
The words were so soft, the three girls barely
heard them, and their eyes widened. Most of the store was oblivious to
this little drama, too concerned with their own shopping. Those who did
pay attention were avidly watching, trying, though, not to stare at the
four who faced off. Two of the faces softened with pity, dull eyes shifting
guiltily away from Yume's bloodied form. They were just following orders.
What else were they to do? They were just...following orders.
But one face grew hard and distant. Then,
just as swiftly, careless. "I don't hate you, Yume. You're not worth the
effort."
Yume smiled, from where her head was lowered.
Flip, went the cards. Flip, flip...flip. "They say; 'Do unto others
as you would have them do unto you.' It is a saying noted the world
over for kindness and fairness. To be kind to a person, and receive kindness
in return. Yet, at the same time, it is also an older law. 'An eye for
an eye, a tooth for a tooth.'" Yume looked up, and the distant blue
of her eyes was that of a winter sky. "I believe, in accordance with these
laws, I have this right." She flipped the new top card over. The winter
in her eyes became a blizzard of ice, and her scream a howling wind. "Major
Arcana! Justice!"
It was a familiar sound, to two of the girls
in the dressing room. The sound of screams, accompanied by the pitched
crystalline shimmering of glass, breaking into pieces, shattering in slivered
waterfalls to the brushed carpet floor. The screams were frightened ones,
panicked. Kami was holding her new dress up to herself, receiving further
reassurances to its rightness for her. Her head turned, along with that
of the others, in silent wide-eyed horror. It was only a step to the doorway,
Ami and Minako pausing cautiously around the frame, Kami leaning over their
backs to see what they saw.
Women, shoppers, were running away from the
epicenter of the panic. The glass in the storefront was blasted out from
within, racks scattered, some overturned as a shockwave burst out across
the store from its source. A girl stood, in a stylish dress of pale green,
one hand lifted tensely in the air before her, her fingers tightly together,
hands and body shaking. Before her floated three girls, dangling lightly
off the floor, nebulously rotating in senseless spirals. A ring of cards
spun in a circle around them, a golden light emanating from them, encasing
each of their victims within a golden pillar.
Within the safety of the dressing room, the
three senshi drew back in revulsion, Ami with her hands over her lips in
horror, Minako paling. Kami merely stepping away. Pain was no stranger
to her. "Henshin yo, minna," Minako managed, and they backed away, back
into the confines of the dressing room, with the discarded clothing on
the ground. Moments later, had anyone been nearby, they would have heard
the words, "Venus Crystal Power! Make-up!"
Then, "Mercury Crystal Power! Make-up!"
A long pause as lights filled the room, and
the echoes of the phrases died away. Then, at last, "Dreamweaver Crystal
Power! Make-up!"
"Not worth the effort? Not worth the effort?
Do you know how much pain you've caused me?!" The trembling of her
body grew more pronounced as fury built up within her, rage against her
insignificance, face screwed up in fury. The same light that enveloped
the three girls before her intensified with her emotions, and they flinched
as though struck. "I'll show you my pain! Feel what you made me feel! Feel
it!"
Her arm moved back, then struck the air before
her. Though it passed through nothing, into nothing, the three she held
captive jerked as though slapped.
"Feel it!"
Again.
"Feel it!"
Again.
"Feel it!"
Her voice intensified to the breaking point.
Again.
"Feel it! Feel it! Feel it!"
Silent screams pulled open their mouths, though
only faint choking noises were issued. The one who floated in the lead
gurgled, and there was the noise of crunching as her nose broke into blood,
flowing freely down her face, her dress, her shopping bags, down to the
floor in a bleak crimson river.
"Stop right there!"
Yume didn't care to stop. For the first time,
she was fighting back, and god it felt good. Nobody was picking on her
now. Nono, no one would pick on her ever again. No, never again. But the
call was from two voices, in harmony of calm command. And so Yume paused
to look up. Perhaps her eyes widened fractionally at the sight that met
them. Two girls, in layered short skirts and long bows and high boots...in
her mind, she recognized them, thought processes bringing the words, "Sailor
Senshi," to her mind, as well as a mild feeling of surprise that they were
there. Luck, she supposed. Dumb luck. There was no way they could have
known what she planned. She also recognized what this would appear like
to them. They wouldn't know she was only serving justice. No, of course
not. They would attack her, and even as she thought this, they began to
speak again.
"Agent of Love and Beauty, I am the pretty
sailor suited soldier, Sailor Venus!"
"And the pretty sailor suited soldier of Wisdom
and Knowledge, Sailor Mercury!"
They stood on top of one of the clearance
tables, disarrayed piles of sale clothing around their feet. But they had
much practice with this, and they stood back to back, looking over their
shoulders, arms hanging parallel to each other's in perfect unity. They
paused for a moment before saying their final phrase of introduction, in
wait for a third.
But then, the silence hung too long.
And they turned their heads to see where Dreamweaver
was. And to their surprise, they found only Kami, standing at the side
of one of the upright clothing racks, her face holding all the graceful
composure of one who did not know what to do. It took Venus and Mercury
a moment to assimilate this; Kami was not in her senshi form. Therefore,
it was reasonable to believe that she could not henshin. So, they recovered
as quickly as possible. "And on behalf of the planets Venus,"
"And Mercury...."
"We will punish you!" They finished together,
then broke apart.
"Venus," golden glitters formed around Venus's
outstretched hand, gathering around her fingertips. Yume watched the motion
with calm, though she motioned again to her floating cards. The three girls
collapsed on the ground as the deck abandoned them, heaps of uniform and
girl.
As the soldier of Love lightly kissed her fingertips with a wink,
the deck was back in Yume's hands, and with a rapid swirl of cards, they
fluttered wildly around her. "...Love and Beauty Shock!"
"Tower!" The cards gathered in a globe around
Yume, and funneled around her hands, shooting out in a blossom around her.
The golden heart of Venus's attack struck the shield, and spun as it struggled
against it. But as it spun and resisted, the energy rebounded, bouncing
back at the source. They saw it coming, within a fraction of a second,
and still too close together, they attempted to leap apart. The light of
the attack struck between them, at their feet, and the table erupted in
a shower of golden glitter. Venus and Mercury tumbled in the air, slamming
backward, hard. There was a scream as Venus hit an overturned clothing
rack, the poles of it twisting upward as it was it was tossed over again.
Mercury had no better luck, flung into a trendy mannequin in sportswear.
"Kanashimi-chan!" The sight of seeing Mercury
hit so hard was enough to force Kami to bolt from her sideline position,
falling down next to Mercury. "Kanashimi...?" There was a groan from the
water senshi, who began to pull herself upward, slowly.
This girl...she is the one from the school.
She...she hurt Venus-chan, and Kanashimi-chan! Kami's face faded
from worry to anger, and she stood, stepping off to the side. I cannot
fight her in this state. I do not know from where she draws her power.
If she uses it so publicly now, how is it that she did not use it
then, at the school? Why wait? I will buy them time, if I can...I cannot
henshin...gods, why can I not henshin? Later. Worry later. I am not so
strong...gods protect me.... Protect Kanashimi-chan!
"Would you fight me, as well, Fukushu Yume?"
Kami asked, stepping away from Mercury, who was pulling herself back to
her feet. Kami did not break her gaze with Yume. Must keep her mind off
the others.... They will be able to fight again in just a moment...I must
buy them just a moment!
Yume was staring at the young woman across
from her, through the flitting images on the flying cards around her. This
was the pretty woman at school who was angry on her behalf, with the pale
violet eyes and tissue for her bloody nose. "I have no argument with you,"
Yume replied cautiously, then, at her final words, glanced at the broken
figures at her feet. The look was pointed, clearly stating, 'My argument
was with them.'
"You are better than that," replied Kami bluntly,
also referring to the three girls.
"You know them," Yume responded, but this
time her eyes flickered to Mercury, then Venus. Faintly, she smiled. "You
know them."
Shimatta. Ah, I sound like Haruka-chan.
Baka.
Kami had nothing to say, and so said nothing.
Yume took this as the affirmative it was, and the cards coalesced around
her. Kami saw movement on the peripherals of her vision, and saw Mercury
stagger to her feet. A quick glance to the side revealed that Venus was
also standing, and taking breath for another attack.
Yume, though, was ready. "Major Arcana!" A
card slipped itself out of the deck, the image of a hunched old man, and
spun in a vertical spiral around itself, the leader in a new flurry of
cards. "Hermit!"
The deck folded in on itself, and in on Yume,
the wind stirring her hair in a red halo, as she folded her arms over her
chest and looked up at them though quiet, distant eyes. The cards circled
slowly for a half breath, then seemed to whisk her away in a movement so
swift, there was no time to blink.
*******************
