Disclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne. I do, however, own the twisted little plot, and any characters I have created. Basically, if you don't recognize them, they're probably mine. In this chapter, I own Kenji, and no one else, I think.
Re-Visions
Chapter 6
Her head throbbed mercilessly as she lifted it from her arms. Hitomi groaned at the crick in her neck and raised one hand to massage it. She'd fallen asleep at her desk again, her homework still unfinished. She almost decided she didn't care, but there were only a few more questions left to answer. She forced her sleepy mind to concentrate. It's only for a little bit, she told herself sternly. Then . . . then I can go back to sleep and dream of him again . . . She rubbed her eyes, as much to stop the tears as to wake herself up.
It had been one year, one month and five days since Van had been ripped away from her in that last shared vision. She had fainted from the shock of it, and had not awoken for hours. She had immediately tried to reach out to him, but the link led her to a wall, dimly glowing. No matter how she tried, she could not get around it, over it or through it. She kept trying for a long time, and finally, exhausted, she let herself slide back down into her body again, and cried into her pillow in frustration. She felt no small amount of guilt- the last thing she'd said to him had caused him pain, and she knew that it sounded like she was going to hurt him again. I only wanted to tell you I love you! She had wept a long time before falling into a fitful sleep.
When she had awoken the next day, her head felt like it would fall off her body at the slightest movement. Her mother had taken one look at her, the deep shadows under her red rimmed eyes, her face pale except for splotches of feverish color in her cheeks, and her careful motions, and sent her right back up to bed. Gratefully, Hitomi had gone, undressed and crawled back under the covers. She'd spent the day alone, while her parents were at work. Immediately after her mother had left, Hitomi had been hit by a series of frightening visions, but the one that stood out was the familiar one- the one she'd had for so long, the black and white photo. She'd been able to take a step into the hall before it ended. Drained by the quickness and intensity of her visions, it had been afternoon before she felt able to try to contact Van, to tell him what happened. Again, the wall stopped her. She battered herself against it again and again, before admitting defeat. She was desperate to reach him. He was probably worried about her . . . She wanted to tell him . . .
Every day and night after that was the same. Whenever she had a private moment, she would try to punch through the wall. It had gotten so that she would take time during classes to work at it. No matter what she did, or how much she tried, the wall was still there, never changing. It never grew brighter or fainter; it never changed at all. Oh, how she hated it!
She finished the remaining questions on her assignment. The alarm clock said it was close to eleven when she packed her books and notes back into her bag. She stripped off her clothes and pulled on her nightshirt, but before she climbed into bed, she glanced out the window. The temptation was too great, and she opened it, leaning out to breathe in the early spring air. The stars were brilliant and sharp. The tree outside her window was just starting to bud its leaves.
For once, she was glad that the track season was over. She had been so tired throughout the season that it had often been a chore to practice, rather than the pleasure it had once been. To keep up her performance, she'd had to tap reserves of strength she didn't know she had. More than once, she staggered home from practice to collapse on her bed until her mother called her for supper. She simply couldn't move.
If only the visions would stop, she thought as she turned off the light. If they would leave me in peace, I'd feel so much better. She crawled into bed, but did not lie down immediately. I have to try again, she thought. Then, after I talk to Van, then, I'll go to sleep. She refused to think that she wouldn't reach him. She would reach him. She had thought that so many times, but never had been able to. She kept believing, but some days it was harder than others. She closed her eyes and concentrated, following the silver line of the link to Van. I will make it! I will find him at the other end!
To her complete shock and gratitude, the wall was gone! Joyfully, she flew along the connection, almost dancing in her delight. Oh, Van, she thought. Please be awake, please . . . I need to talk to you so much!
It was late on Gaea as well, she knew. But she saw him, saw only him. The light was dim; the Earth and moon had long since risen past his window. He was a shadow within the darkness, but she knew his shape. He was sitting on his blankets, in the room he'd told her was his, his back to the window. She let herself fly towards him, straight as an arrow. As she got closer, she could see the way his broad shoulders were hunched, as if he were trying to disappear into himself. Her heart ached for him- he looked so sad.
Van! she called, reaching for him, unable to contain herself. Soon . . .
She slammed into something hard and unyielding. No! She shook her head, trying to deny it. But the wall was here, surrounding him, its faint blue glow seeming to mock her. No, no, please let me through! She felt her strength ebbing, and knew she couldn't hold this much longer. Van! she screamed, hoping against hope he would hear her. His only response was to bury his head in his arms. Her heart broke as she watched his shoulders begin to shake. Oh, Van . . .
She opened her eyes to the darkness of her room. She felt tears rolling freely down her cheeks. Her strength absolutely expended, she flopped bonelessly onto the mattress, too weary even to move onto her pillow. Silently, unable to make a sound, she cried, the memory of his pain too much to bear. She was still crying when she fell into the deep stupor of exhaustion that passed for her sleep.
Mrs. Kanzaki frowned as she passed her daughter's room the next morning. Hitomi's alarm was blatting, and had been for some time. "Hitomi?" she called, tapping on the door. "Is something wrong?" She cracked the door open.
She saw the window open slightly, the curtain fluttering in the breeze. The room was cold. Quickly, she crossed to the window and closed it, then turned to her daughter's bed.
Hitomi lay as she had fallen last night, on her side, on top of the covers. She was shivering, but it had not roused her at all. She had been unable to move, even to pull up the blankets for warmth. She was very pale, and her breathing was shallow- too shallow for someone so deeply asleep she hadn't heard the blare of the alarm clock.
Her frown deepening, her mother flicked off the alarm, then laid a hand on Hitomi's forehead, brushing away her bangs. She didn't have a fever- in fact, her skin was a bit cold to touch. Moving her hand to her daughter's shoulder, she shook her gently, saying her name. Hitomi didn't respond. Growing more concerned, Mrs. Kanzaki repeated her name, shook her harder. "Hitomi! Wake up, Hitomi!"
Hitomi groaned softly, but didn't move. Now very worried, Mrs. Kanzaki started patting her child's cheek, gently at first, then harder when it didn't wake her. "Hitomi! Wake up!" she repeated, her voice rising.
Finally, the girl's eyelids flickered and opened slightly. Her mother sighed in relief. "Hitomi, do you feel all right? Are you sick? Why wouldn't you wake up?"
"Mom?" she croaked. Opening her eyes was a chore, and talking was even harder. She wasn't sure even now that she had the strength to sit up, but she managed to pull herself upright. Rubbing one hand across her eyes, she mumbled, "What time is it?"
Standing back a pace, Mrs. Kanzaki crossed her arms. "It's almost time for you to leave for school. But you haven't answered my questions, young lady," she continued over Hitomi's shocked gasp. "You look sick. Is that why you wouldn't wake up? Couldn't you hear the alarm?"
Her mother was blocking her path, and she couldn't push her out of the way. "I'm not sick, Mom. I . . . I was just up late doing homework. I'm just tired." She said the half lies with a little guilt. She had been doing homework . . . but not all the time, and she wasn't just tired, she was utterly worn out. She ran a hand through her tousled hair. It just brushed her shoulders now.
She stared at her daughter, almost as if she didn't believe her. After a moment, she nodded and smiled softly. "If you're sure, Hitomi. You look . . ." She trailed off as she stared at her daughter.
Hitomi had always been thin, but this . . . The skin of her face was stretched tightly over her cheekbones. The only color she had was in her bright green eyes, the sandy locks of hair tumbling over her brow. She's as white as a sheet, the older woman thought, shocked. She caught sight of the girl's legs, and realized that she could probably encircle her thigh with her hands. Her nightshirt hid her torso, but Mrs. Kanzaki was sure that if she could see through it, she'd be able to count every rib.
"Mom, I have to get ready for school! I don't want to be late!" Hitomi was uneasy under her mother's scrutiny, but couldn't move away.
"Hitomi, when did you get so thin?" her mother whispered. "You don't look well at all! I think you should stay home!"
"What are you talking about, so thin? I'm fine!" She was puzzled by her mother's words, and by the hurt and angry look she received.
"No, you're not, but you're not listening to me." Mrs. Kanzaki sighed, and eyed her daughter's pale face. "All right. But I'm making an appointment for you to go to the doctor's as soon as we can get in." She left the room, her greying hair streaming behind her, before there could be any protest.
Hitomi sighed and groaned her way off the bed. Every muscle felt bruised, every limb felt like it had lead weights attached. Her head throbbed viciously, but the pain had been with her for so long, she could almost ignore it. She managed to pull on her uniform, but had to sit down before she went downstairs. She closed her eyes, a fierce pain blooming in her chest. She pressed one hand against it, remembering Van's sorrow the previous night.
When she opened her eyes, everything was in black and white. She glanced at the window and could see the tree outside in leaf, but not moving in the calm still air. She looked around her room. Everything was stark, bare. The bed was stripped of its linens, which were folded neatly in a pile. All of her pictures, her trinkets were gone. The open closet door showed that it was empty, like the desk when she looked at it. Slowly, she stood and made her way over to the door. Last time- yesterday- she'd been able to get to the bottom of the staircase. It was like swimming through honey, but she forced her way downstairs. The weeping grew louder and louder as she descended. She turned to go into the living room- that seemed to be where it was coming from. She could see a shadow, black against the white of the walls . . .
She caught herself before she slid out of the chair and cracked her head on the seat. She was panting as if she had run hard and long, deep ragged breaths that tore her throat. Even that slight noise caused her ears to ring. Her head was already pounding, but it seemed to increase its tempo as she forced herself to her feet. She was beyond being scared of that vision now; she only wanted to find out who was crying so it would stop. She was sure that once she found out who it was, she'd never have it again.
She grabbed her bag and padded carefully down the stairs, trying not to give herself any more pain. She didn't have time now for breakfast- just time to take the money her mother had left out so she could buy lunch at school. She stuffed the money into the outside pocket of her bag, and felt it get stuck. She opened the pocket and pulled out what amounted to several days worth of lunch money. She stared at it in amazement for a moment, thinking, I've got to give this back to Mom, I don't need so much for lunch! Her eyes started to blur, and when she blinked, they didn't really clear. She started to feel a bit light-headed. From a distance, she felt her stomach rumble softly. I . . . I'm hungry . . .
She could vaguely remember eating some supper last night. Mostly, though, she had just pushed it around with her chopsticks. She rarely ate lunch with her friends anymore- that was where all the money came from, she realized belatedly- preferring instead to go to the school library. I need to study, she would tell Yukari and her other friends, but she went to be alone, so she could try to talk to Van.
But food didn't taste good to her any more, anyway. Even her favorite foods were bland and tasteless, like what she imagined eating straw would be like. I'll eat when I get really hungry . . . like now . . . but most of the time, I don't even care. I don't have time now. I've got to get going! She pulled on her sneakers, called out to her mother, "I'll see you at supper!" and stumbled out the door.
Yukari was waiting for her at the end of the walk. "Sorry, Yukari," she gasped as she forced herself into a trot. "I overslept . . . just woke up a few minutes ago . . . let's get going!"
Yukari stared after her sadly before catching up. Hitomi had changed so much, she thought. She's not the girl I used to know anymore. For so long, she's been trying to hide how depressed she is . . . but now . . . it's like she doesn't bother. She doesn't even notice that she's got tears in her eyes most of the time. And she's so skinny! I could push her over with a finger, she's so weak all the time. I could see what a trial it was for her to compete this year in track, and still, she outdid everyone. Something's wrong . . . Something is so very wrong . . .
"Hitomi . . ." she said as they waited at the station.
"Hmmm? What is it?" Hitomi asked, leaning against the railing. Propping herself up on it is more like it, Yukari thought.
"We really need to talk." Her brown eyes were serious as she stared at her friend.
"About what?" Was she pretending to be clueless, or does she really not know what I mean?
"About you." When Hitomi turned to her, startled, she continued, "You're my best friend. I care about you, and I'm worried about you. I think . . . I'm sure that there's something wrong with you. You haven't been yourself for so long and you look like you're sick. I want to help you- but you have to tell me what's wrong!" Her voice rose toward the end, and she heard the plea in it. She bit her lip to keep from saying more, as she saw the other girl's eyes fill with tears.
Hitomi closed her eyes and leaned her back against the railing. She lifted her face to the sky and forced herself to breathe deeply, to stop the tears. "Yukari, I . . ."
"Hitomi, please! You promised you would tell me!" She was whispering, the words almost blown away in the light breeze. "You promised . . ."
She could remember. She remembered every detail about that day. "I'm not ready yet," she replied quietly, eyes still closed. "I know I promised- but I can't tell you yet . . ."
"Then when?" her friend demanded, rage evident in her tone. When Hitomi looked at her in surprise, she could see Yukari was angry, and close to tears herself. "There's something tearing you apart inside! I just want to help you."
I know, Yukari, Hitomi thought sadly. I know you only want to help me . . . but it still hurts so much.
Just then, their train arrived. Before Yukari boarded, Hitomi grabbed her arm and said, "All right. Come to the library with me at lunch. I'll . . . I'll try to tell you . . ."
Yukari gave her a brilliant smile and a brief hug before they climbed onto the car.
Later that morning, during a change of classes, Hitomi trudged to her locker for another notebook. I shouldn't have told Yukari I'd tell her, she thought wearily. She wouldn't believe the truth anyway. No, that's unfair. She would believe me, but I don't want to hear what she's going to say . . . I know it. She rummaged in her locker for some time before realizing that she'd left the notebook she wanted at home by mistake. Muttering "idiot" to herself under her breath, she slowly pulled herself upright again, and shut the locker door. Kenji was standing behind her when she turned.
"Oh!" She placed one hand to her chest, to try to still her pounding heart. "Matsuda, you scared me." She tried to duck around him, but she blocked her way.
"Kanzaki." His eyes were lost in the shadows, the sun behind him through the hallway windows. His voice was soft, but it still made her tremble with what she could only call fear. Nothing had changed about him at all. He took a step closer, forcing her back against the lockers. "I need to talk to you."
That seems to be the line of the day, she thought irrelevantly as she tried to keep from panicking. He braced his arms on either side of her, trapping her.
"Matsuda, I have to get back to class." She spoke calmly. "Please let me go."
"It's study hall," Kenji replied. "I need to talk to you now." He brought his face closer to hers, and she pushed her head against the lockers, trying to avoid his lips.
Suddenly, her exhaustion overwhelmed her. She couldn't find the strength to fight with him. She said very quietly, "Kenji." His face lit up as she spoke his given name, but then clouded again as she continued. "Kenji, I do not want to talk to you. Not now, not later, not ever. Now let me go back to class."
"Why do you keep avoiding me?" he asked plaintively. He drew back a few inches to look into her eyes. "I want to be your friend. I want to be your boyfriend, if you want the truth." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I want to be your lover. You are so captivating, so beautiful, fragile . . ." He bent his head again, trying to capture her lips.
Frantic to avoid another kiss from him, though she couldn't say why, Hitomi somehow found the will to move, half ducking under his arm, half pushing it away. "I'm sorry, I have to go to class," she said quickly, backing down the hall as he turned.
His eyes were cold and hard now, his face set grimly. He grabbed her wrist before she could flee. She could feel the bones grinding together in his grip. "Ow," she hissed, trying to twist it from his hand. "Let me go!" She dropped her textbook with a crash.
"No." His voice sent icy tremors up and down her spine. "No. You will talk with me, and you will listen to what I have to tell you." He yanked her arm, trying to pull her to him.
She stilled in his grasp. He was serious. "Matsuda." Now her voice was cold. "If you don't let me go, I'm going to scream. When the teachers come to find out why, I will tell them you tried to attack me."
"You wouldn't dare." He stared at her in disbelief.
"Try me." She could feel her vision start to go black and red around the edges from the pain, but she stood her ground.
It was a mistake to challenge him. He grinned, and tugged her toward him again. She took a deep breath and let loose a piercing wordless shriek that had doors up and down the hall opening in an instant.
But in her mind, she screamed, Van, help me! She screamed it along the link with him, a white-hot arrow of all her pain and fear and longing. She knew it would probably hurt him- if the wall didn't stop it. She hoped he could forgive her.
Her knees buckled and she fell as Kenji finally released her hand. She heard teachers and students shouting in the hall, but only from a great distance.
Her cry struck its mark. She felt it, felt him shudder along their bond. Even as her eyes rolled back in her head, she smiled as she sensed him reaching for her. The last thing she knew before the darkness claimed her was his beloved voice, calling for her. "Hitomi? Hitomi!"
Van . . .
Then there was nothing more.
Author's note: I think that's a good place to end it, don't you? Please review!
