Wear Your Bruises Well
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: Hello wire, where did you come from? It's late in the story. I can be cliché, right? The end is near! Not here, but near. Lyrics from Catatonia's "That's All Folks" and "You Can.")
With all the hurry, she must have left her sense of time behind. Juri crossed her arms, feeling chilly and exposed but strangely detached from everything. Ruka, of all people, was with her. Leaning across the desk trying to figure out where the night shift nurse had gone. Her evening hadn't started yet so she was looking for the nurse who had been on duty earlier. When whatever had happened had happened. Ruka, strangely enough, resting on his elbows. Casually, as if he belonged there.
She took a deep breath and wondered how she could feel as if her consciousness had been smashed into the farther back corner of her head. Peering through the dim haze of grey cells into the brilliantly bright hospital glow.
"Upstairs." Ruka called toward her, and she put a leg forward and followed like a stiff automaton. Commanded by whatever direction was next given to her. "She has her own room. Apparently, they moved her there after the x- rays. She's been moved over from the outpatient mental health ward, since they decided she was clear headed enough and wasn't going to be hurting herself."
"I'll believe that when I see it." Juri murmured.
"I agree," Ruka nodded, "She is an actor after all."
Did no one warn us, no one want us
They did not warm to us
I feel winter's breath in my bones
Nichol was leaning against the wall of the second floor waiting room. Chewing something he must have resigned himself to from the vending machine. His eyes uplifted to the television that was remotely set on a local news station. He looked not unlike he was waiting for a bus, which relieved Juri and infuriated her at the same time.
Nichol saw them approach and continued to chew. His sturdy chin tight at the edges.
"What the hell happened?" Juri hissed, walking right up to him and letting the full power of her momentum to that point follow through as she slapped him hard. Nichol let his chin hover over his far shoulder before slowly turning back to meet Juri's eyes, hardly any distance between them at all.
He pushed his tongue into the cheek she had slapped. "It's a long story."
"They all are." Her voice lowered, glaring. Trying not to let Nichol distract her as he glanced beyond her to wherever Ruka was waiting.
"I didn't know you were going to bring him." Nichol raised his eyebrows, "Although, it might not have been a bad idea." Nichol raised his hands, one still holding the bag of M&Ms, bringing them between himself and Juri's aura of anger. "Don't you get the wrong idea about this whole thing either."
"I think I have a pretty good idea of what's been going on."
"Juri." Ruka said, and when Juri turned at the waist to scowl his direction. Ruka nodded toward the television. The evening news was just beginning to cover the details of a near suicide involving an individual running before an oncoming train. Until the girl was thwarted by a quick thinking member of the station crowd. She watched as the anchor made a brief story of the occasion, and still didn't like what she heard.
"You didn't even notice did you?" Nichol said, gesturing toward the other side of his face and at the raw skin of his far arm. "Assumed a bit much to think that I'm the bad guy here, didn't you?"
"You're not innocent." Juri frowned. Processing.
"And neither are you, my dear." Nichol popped another piece of candy into his mouth and shrugged. "But I wasn't going to just let the fool kill herself either. And I figured, you'd want to see her."
"Right. Thank you." Juri clipped the words, "Thank you for calling. Did you call anyone else?"
"No." Nichol glanced back at her from the news show that had moved on to the latest story for the event filled city. The moment was over, recorded and forgotten. "But they'll hear soon enough, I'm sure."
"Can I see her?"
"Not a single nurse has been by in the past fifteen minutes. I'd hurry before they start enforcing some sort of visitation rules. Unless she's asleep, of course." Nichol did relax a little as Juri walked past him to the room he'd waved at. Deciding then that maybe he didn't want to have to rely on his legs to support him any longer and took a seat.
But I'm a loose canon whore
Knows the score, shown the door before the night's out
At least you wear your bruises well
At least you have some tales, something about you
Slipping in, Juri was a bit taken back by the almost casual and carefree way that Shiori was propped up in the hospital bed. On arm held cautiously over her form in a sling, the rest of her thinly veiled by the single white sheet. The girl's head was rolled to one side and balanced between her shoulder and the additional pillows. Trying as best she might to see the sky from the distant, darkening window.
"I told them to leave it open." Shiori said, not looking over. Imagining it was Juri. Knowing it was her. "Watching them stumble over themselves to make me feel . . . indulged. Pampered. Worthwhile." Her lips pulled back into a smile of sorts. "Funny how I always thought I'd want to be treated as a princess. Like that might make me happy. To have my way."
Juri closed the door behind her and waited near it. In the darkest part of the room and watching Shiori a bit fearfully. As if she'd never seen this girl before. Between all the faces, this Shiori she wasn't sure she recognized.
"I think I eat too fast. You know how they tell you to chew twenty-seven times or something crazy like that. Maybe I eat life a bit too fast. But, chewing on life . . . it can get long. Waiting." The girl's hair was full and spread out and around her head like fine whispers, a light glow radiating from her face. Almost as if she were a specter or some other sort of passing spirit. "So much of it that can become such a tedious bother. Running so fast, and getting nowhere whatsoever."
"Is this an explanation?" Juri said, her voice sounding cold. Or maybe it was only the temperature of the room as the words slipped out.
"And talking. What good is talking? When so much of it is shallow, scripted dialogue. Or words so full you can't wrap a thought around them before they're gone." Shiori clicked her tongue, "Or maybe listening. No one listens, they only talk."
"You're doing a lot of talking." Juri stepped closer. "What the hell were you thinking?" Her last words faintest of all. "What was I supposed to do? If the phone call was to tell me you were . . . weren't alive?" She pulled her fingers into fists so they wouldn't tremble. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Why are you wondering that?" Shiori asked, turning to peer into the darkness where Juri lurked.
"I never thought . . ." Juri said, pulling all emotion from her tone because she didn't trust it.
"Why would you?" Shiori asked.
"I wanted to notice you. I wanted to be able to see you." Juri looked at her feet. "But, I don't really know you at all, do I?"
"Hmm." Shiori responded, smiling distantly as she was hiding all of her thoughts. "Now try answering this. Who would know me? Who really knows you, Juri? That doesn't happen. No matter how hard we try."
"Are you alright?" Juri said, a bit mystified. "Do you have a fever? Did they put you on medication?"
"No," Shiori chuckled eerily, "It's just a little bit funny, you see. I thought I was going to step in front of that train and just kill myself. I couldn't care. I didn't want any of the options I thought might be left available to me." She pulled her other arm from under the sheet and set it on top of the first. Curling her fingers together. "You know, this isn't the first time I've tried something like this."
"No?" Juri frowned.
"No. Ask Nichol. He's heard all the stories. Seen me in action. Whenever we'd go to the clubs together, I'd live a new suicide. Never seriously though. I couldn't follow through because I had too much revenge to live for. He reminded me of that." Shiori sighed, but her expression still oddly content. "He reminded me I didn't have the guts to take what I wanted. To take you, him, my life. And when I wanted to prove that I did, he stopped me." She sputtered a strange laugh again. "He thought he was going to take something away from me again. Keep me alive. A little play puppet."
'You are on medication." Juri tried to sound dismissive. Waving one hand, a blur of motion in the deepening shadow. The sun was setting and nothing but dim reflections could be seen through the window.
"No." Shiori shook her head, "If I'm delirious, it's because I'm insane or happy or I can't describe it." She began to sit up from where she'd been leaning against the prop of the pillows. "It's silly really. They were simply doing routine lab work and found that . . . well, Juri, . . . they found that I'm going to be a mother."
Ooh baby blue is it true
I'm a free radical, libertine
"How'd you get my number? Dorothy? Damn her. She's here. Yes, and so is she. I suppose you're coming whether I want you to or not? Don't thank me." Nichol sneered into the telephone and closed it. Glancing up he saw Juri coming back into the waiting room. "Was she awake, I gather?"
"Yes." Juri sat down on the edge of a far seat, resting her elbows against her knees, curled forward. "She wasn't making much sense. Must have her on some medicine." Juri appraised him with a scrutinizing eye. "She's saying some odd things."
"I wouldn't know." Nichol said dismissively, "But I'm getting ready to leave this party. Barton just called my cell phone. Now I'm going to have to change the number or something."
"I'm surprised the hospital hasn't got you shut away in one of these rooms." Ruka commented, his voice still seeming strangely out of place.
Nichol scoffed, "I heal quickly. Barton's already on his way, so I'm checking out. Later." Nichol walked off without further comment.
"I wonder if he knows?" Juri said to herself.
"What's that?"
"Nothing." Juri shook her head, Ruka took the seat next to hers and leaned forward as well. Turning to watch her more closely.
"I feel odd." Ruka admitted, "Being here with you again. I can't remember why I would ever do anything else but be with you."
"Oh, and this is a great example of how we should spend our time together." Juri let the worried sarcasm slip into her tone.
"It's unusual, true." Ruka nodded, leaning back. Taking back his space. Providing distance.
"That's right." Juri noticed his body's language. "Pull back. Go away. Don't remember that you're the one who's the active leaver."
"I'd lost you a long time before I went away."
"And where did you go?" Juri leaned back herself, turning awkwardly in the seat to see him better. "Without telling any of us . . ."
"That's not entirely true." Ruka raised a finger, realizing the comment was a mistake as Juri's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I didn't think . . . I never imagined life like this, Juri. Where the best decisions are the ones that might hurt others and yourself."
"You were making all the decisions," Juri turned away, "You chose to pull back. You chose to disappear. Leaving me stranded here to volley the sympathetic looks, the pitying words, the raised eyebrows. And the questions. How was I supposed to answer the questions?"
"Was it that way?"
"No." Juri sighed, "No one actually asked the questions. Which made the unspoken answers linger all the longer."
With overwhelming sentimentality, Ruka reached out and touched her hair, "My girl." He said softly.
Juri closed her eyes. Wishing herself away from where she was. What she'd seen. Everything she knew. And who she had been.
"When I open my eyes," Juri began, "Are you going to be gone?"
"I realized that I had been depending on your life to supply breath for my own. All along. All these years." He paused, "I suppose I'm afraid to be away from you so long. And there is no way that I can stay."
She refused to try to understand his damned secretive logic and held her fingers to her temples. Shielding herself as best she could from the undulating, buzzing lights. When she felt his hand on her shoulders, she looked up. Saw Trowa. Heero not far behind.
But Ruka had slipped away.
It's not you that they came for?
the lies ring true
time plays tricks
You always knew
the wise feign injury
It's not you that they came for?
Rehearsals began to consume their existence. Saitou began to increase the pressure, the final week's rehearsal were to be violently productive. The dance scenes rough with passion, the songs cracked with emotion, the duels faulted with prowess.
While watching her closely, Juri watched the girl transform in the days following her temporary hospital stay. Glowing with inner confidence, Shiori slowly began to steal her scenes away with energetic and insightful depth to her arguably villainous character. Her building spirit created an intrinsic attraction that even the haughty Saionji had felt pulled into. Watching his pathetic petitions fall on her too amused ears.
"Saionji, listen to me." Shiori had curled one finger, beckoning the lime- locked actor. He had eagerly glided up to her side with a huskily whispered, "Yes, my dear. Anything." And with that, Shiori had found herself a quite willing lapdog. At least until it occurred to Saionji a few days later that he was no farther than he was before and being mocked again.
As much as Juri wanted to attribute the girl's revelation to the stressful imagination of her near death, the stunning vitality was certainly convincing to the alternate source. But then the truth of the comment left another question begging for answer.
"Who's the father?"
Shiori stopped walking away, and slowly turned to see Juri waiting alone in the middle of the hall. A few steps behind. To her credit, the girl avoided the coy tone she might have laced onto the answer. Instead she said sincerely, "I'm not sure."
"But you must have some idea." Juri protested.
"It's not your child." Shiori smiled sympathetically.
"Is it Nichol's? Does he know?"
"You're the only one who I've told." Neither of them moved. But the space around them seemed to shrink tight. "Besides those who've guessed."
"Who's guessed?" Juri persisted.
"Ruka."
With that the conversation finished.
I could do without lectures
So heaven protect us
From these bad vibes you're giving
Oh these bad vibes you're giving
"You've seemed to have lost the handle on your pet after your sudden display of heroics." Dorothy was pulling on the sleeves of her costume glancing in the mirror. Leaning so that she could better see Nichol's scowling reflection from the corner chair. "She's practically preening with enthusiasm these days. None to your credit, I'm sure."
"I didn't save her to have her swoon over me."
"No, she was doing that ~before~ you knocked her over." Dorothy let the last words roll off her tongue with flavored slowness. "Now, on the other hand, Shiori seems to be brimming with new life."
"I don't like what you're saying." Nichol grumbled. He was sitting backwards on the seat. His arms folded over the top of the wooden rest. Brows pulled tight. He had been avoiding the simple mathematical equation for some time. Although he had suspected, the truth would be clouded in uncertainty.
"Seems like the kitten has found an upper hand. Her calling. A life's mission." Dorothy pulled her pale fingers through her hair, "And all without my help. And it might be that she doesn't need yours either."
Dorothy reluctantly decided on a brush, holding her hair and only combing through the ends. Turning to watch Nichol continue to glower. Almost imagining she did see the ripples of heat rising from his figure.
"No one will probably say it, besides myself," Dorothy put down the brush and walked over to him, her hand on his shoulder an ivory contrast to his charcoal, "But I know that under all the games, the crass jokes and cruel intentions. You identify with her too much. Be happy. Shiori's escaped her lady. Escaping her revenge."
"Happy?" Nichol said, letting himself sound tired. "Right, I'll be happy when she stops lording it over me in all these scenes we have together."
"She hasn't said anything to you?"
"Not a word."
"She's become a tease. The worst kind." Dorothy mock-clucked her tongue, finding her fan prop and practiced opening it with one hand and closing it against the palm of the other.
Nichol pulled away from the chair. "Stop sounding like we've lost anything. Just because there's a new player doesn't mean we fold." He stomped out of the room.
"Oh, Nichol." Dorothy let her shoulders relax when he was some time gone. "But what if the child is yours?"
I saw the photographs too,
frozen reminders of what interest can do
And how he gave it to you,
a generous fool
forgets how hard he can bruise
But when you go to talk about your thing,
You make it great,
make it a brilliant thing
"It's a bit too cold for the bike." Catherine protested lazily, she was sprawled on Juri's couch and trying to convince Juri with her slyly unsubtle comments that she needed to be invited for a sleepover. She'd heard about Shiori's suicide attempt not long after from her brother. And had been keeping a closer eye on Juri since she knew, or at least suspected, that something significant and powerful was between those two women. Not that Catherine had been let in on much detail. Not that she felt as if she could pry.
"Catherine, I want to ask you something personal." Juri was in her easy chair, one leg draped over the arm, her elbow balanced so that her hand was screening her vision from any light. Her other hand holding an iced drink.
"Okay," Catherine put a little hesitation in her voice, turning her head up to the uneven ceiling. "Shoot."
"Will you ever resolve things with Sanosuke?"
"Oh." Catherine curled up her knees and rolled on her side. "That." For a time, silence balanced the night noises coming in through the window. And in one of the apartments not so far away, they could imagine where the boy lived. "I don't think I know how to, Juri. I'm a bit more professional at the screwing things up end. I can't even talk with Duo. And it's hard enough to see my daughter." Again the silence. The hour changed, and they both understood that Catherine was going to be staying the night. Relaxing in each other's company. "What happened to our moving forward motto? I liked that one." She tried a lighter texture of words.
"What if one can only move forward so much, until they realize they've been inevitably tethered to the past?" Juri set her drink on the nearby end table.
"Tied back?" Catherine sighed, "You'll have to ask someone else that one. Trowa, maybe. I'm not privy to that information. Did you realize that my brother was restlessly head over heels for that boyfriend of his for nearly ten years? Ten years before that thread pulled them back together."
"Ten?" Juri repeated, unable to comprehend.
"I couldn't manage to stay in love for six months."
"That sounds more normal." Juri said softly. "Your brother and Heero are a touch strange. I don't think duration is their most immediate problem."
"Why do you always start to ask me these things," Catherine said boldly, "Without explaining to me exactly why and what answers you seek?"
"I think for all my bravado," Juri said reluctantly, "I'm the passive one."
"Forward bravado or passive," Catherine replied quickly, "You're the genuine one." And after a moment. "I admire that."
It never ends when you're bored, curious and unsure
Inside out, but you still sigh
Playing mind games with yourself
Always get by with the lies,
Say it won't last it will
Page-it's alright, alright
It never ends when you're bored, curious and unsure
"Unless I'm mistaken," the voice splintered his latest round of staring into oblivion, "Your sister promised me I wasn't going to be taking you home again."
"I'm not drunk." Sanosuke said, still holding his glass. While there was only evidence of one, Ruka still took what remained from the boy's fingers, sitting across from him.
Ruka tasted the drink and winced, "This is nasty, Sano. What sort of mess have you gotten yourself into?"
"I'm not in a mess," Sano was still able to speak properly and met Ruka's appraising glance with a steady eye. "I've been rejected from the mess and deemed unworthy of loving her."
"Hmm." Ruka nodded, trying to look wise.
"Man, I suppose you understand that all too well." Sano frowned. "Watching you and Juri grow apart. And you had something built up. My girl, she was just . . . enjoying the scenery. Handling a little road bump."
"I hope that's the alcohol talking. Although, you must realize, that not every bump can be smoothed out. Definitely not by that booze you're wasting good money on." Ruka said. "Tell me, Sanosuke. Whatever happened with Misao? When I left, she was attached to you like you were an ungreased pot."
"Lovely," Sano snickered, "Well, now we know why Kenshin's the scribe of the Road Rage and not you."
"Sano," Ruka warned lightly.
"I don't know, she suddenly seemed too much my age."
"And how old are you, twenty-one?"
"Almost twenty-two."
Ruka laughed, "Forgive me, Sano. I shouldn't sit here laughing like this." Ruka fell back in the seat, his eyes closed against even the lowered lights of the Velvet. Holding himself with one arm, laughing. His unruly hair folding in around his face.
"What's this?" Sano snorted, trying not to fall into his own fever of inexplicable laughter.
"If you have it this bad at twenty-two, kid, then it's only going to get bleaker. Trust me." Ruka stopped laughing, but still sat crumpled in his seat, his face pale even in the shadowed lights. "Drink slower."
"Fine." Sano shrugged, "I just don't have much else to do these nights."
"Did you consider going back to school?"
"Why?" Sano wrinkled his nose, "I just escaped."
"Not so much, and not so soon." Ruka began to re-stretch out his limbs, pulling out his torso like an accordion, his breath likewise coming out in a low wheeze. "But, my boy, you have talent. If Saitou hasn't told you, I'd be surprised if he doesn't soon. I can think of a handful of grad schools that might take you, and eagerly." Sano still seemed reluctant. "You know who you should ask about it is that Trowa Barton fellow. He went to one of the best schools in the country."
"Trowa?" Sano hesitated, then with a great deal more enthusiasm. "I suppose I could ask him."
Ruka smiled weakly, "Don't let it get to your head." While he himself was overwhelmed with relief that he'd just briefly and once again recovered and glimpsed the boy's true smile.
Even if it were to be the only thing he could accomplish in his short time.
It's just hard to be recumbent again
It comes and ruins your day, a shove in the side
enough to drive you insane
But when you go to talk about your thing,
Make it great, make it a brilliant thing
It never ends when you're bored, curious and unsure
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: Hello wire, where did you come from? It's late in the story. I can be cliché, right? The end is near! Not here, but near. Lyrics from Catatonia's "That's All Folks" and "You Can.")
With all the hurry, she must have left her sense of time behind. Juri crossed her arms, feeling chilly and exposed but strangely detached from everything. Ruka, of all people, was with her. Leaning across the desk trying to figure out where the night shift nurse had gone. Her evening hadn't started yet so she was looking for the nurse who had been on duty earlier. When whatever had happened had happened. Ruka, strangely enough, resting on his elbows. Casually, as if he belonged there.
She took a deep breath and wondered how she could feel as if her consciousness had been smashed into the farther back corner of her head. Peering through the dim haze of grey cells into the brilliantly bright hospital glow.
"Upstairs." Ruka called toward her, and she put a leg forward and followed like a stiff automaton. Commanded by whatever direction was next given to her. "She has her own room. Apparently, they moved her there after the x- rays. She's been moved over from the outpatient mental health ward, since they decided she was clear headed enough and wasn't going to be hurting herself."
"I'll believe that when I see it." Juri murmured.
"I agree," Ruka nodded, "She is an actor after all."
Did no one warn us, no one want us
They did not warm to us
I feel winter's breath in my bones
Nichol was leaning against the wall of the second floor waiting room. Chewing something he must have resigned himself to from the vending machine. His eyes uplifted to the television that was remotely set on a local news station. He looked not unlike he was waiting for a bus, which relieved Juri and infuriated her at the same time.
Nichol saw them approach and continued to chew. His sturdy chin tight at the edges.
"What the hell happened?" Juri hissed, walking right up to him and letting the full power of her momentum to that point follow through as she slapped him hard. Nichol let his chin hover over his far shoulder before slowly turning back to meet Juri's eyes, hardly any distance between them at all.
He pushed his tongue into the cheek she had slapped. "It's a long story."
"They all are." Her voice lowered, glaring. Trying not to let Nichol distract her as he glanced beyond her to wherever Ruka was waiting.
"I didn't know you were going to bring him." Nichol raised his eyebrows, "Although, it might not have been a bad idea." Nichol raised his hands, one still holding the bag of M&Ms, bringing them between himself and Juri's aura of anger. "Don't you get the wrong idea about this whole thing either."
"I think I have a pretty good idea of what's been going on."
"Juri." Ruka said, and when Juri turned at the waist to scowl his direction. Ruka nodded toward the television. The evening news was just beginning to cover the details of a near suicide involving an individual running before an oncoming train. Until the girl was thwarted by a quick thinking member of the station crowd. She watched as the anchor made a brief story of the occasion, and still didn't like what she heard.
"You didn't even notice did you?" Nichol said, gesturing toward the other side of his face and at the raw skin of his far arm. "Assumed a bit much to think that I'm the bad guy here, didn't you?"
"You're not innocent." Juri frowned. Processing.
"And neither are you, my dear." Nichol popped another piece of candy into his mouth and shrugged. "But I wasn't going to just let the fool kill herself either. And I figured, you'd want to see her."
"Right. Thank you." Juri clipped the words, "Thank you for calling. Did you call anyone else?"
"No." Nichol glanced back at her from the news show that had moved on to the latest story for the event filled city. The moment was over, recorded and forgotten. "But they'll hear soon enough, I'm sure."
"Can I see her?"
"Not a single nurse has been by in the past fifteen minutes. I'd hurry before they start enforcing some sort of visitation rules. Unless she's asleep, of course." Nichol did relax a little as Juri walked past him to the room he'd waved at. Deciding then that maybe he didn't want to have to rely on his legs to support him any longer and took a seat.
But I'm a loose canon whore
Knows the score, shown the door before the night's out
At least you wear your bruises well
At least you have some tales, something about you
Slipping in, Juri was a bit taken back by the almost casual and carefree way that Shiori was propped up in the hospital bed. On arm held cautiously over her form in a sling, the rest of her thinly veiled by the single white sheet. The girl's head was rolled to one side and balanced between her shoulder and the additional pillows. Trying as best she might to see the sky from the distant, darkening window.
"I told them to leave it open." Shiori said, not looking over. Imagining it was Juri. Knowing it was her. "Watching them stumble over themselves to make me feel . . . indulged. Pampered. Worthwhile." Her lips pulled back into a smile of sorts. "Funny how I always thought I'd want to be treated as a princess. Like that might make me happy. To have my way."
Juri closed the door behind her and waited near it. In the darkest part of the room and watching Shiori a bit fearfully. As if she'd never seen this girl before. Between all the faces, this Shiori she wasn't sure she recognized.
"I think I eat too fast. You know how they tell you to chew twenty-seven times or something crazy like that. Maybe I eat life a bit too fast. But, chewing on life . . . it can get long. Waiting." The girl's hair was full and spread out and around her head like fine whispers, a light glow radiating from her face. Almost as if she were a specter or some other sort of passing spirit. "So much of it that can become such a tedious bother. Running so fast, and getting nowhere whatsoever."
"Is this an explanation?" Juri said, her voice sounding cold. Or maybe it was only the temperature of the room as the words slipped out.
"And talking. What good is talking? When so much of it is shallow, scripted dialogue. Or words so full you can't wrap a thought around them before they're gone." Shiori clicked her tongue, "Or maybe listening. No one listens, they only talk."
"You're doing a lot of talking." Juri stepped closer. "What the hell were you thinking?" Her last words faintest of all. "What was I supposed to do? If the phone call was to tell me you were . . . weren't alive?" She pulled her fingers into fists so they wouldn't tremble. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Why are you wondering that?" Shiori asked, turning to peer into the darkness where Juri lurked.
"I never thought . . ." Juri said, pulling all emotion from her tone because she didn't trust it.
"Why would you?" Shiori asked.
"I wanted to notice you. I wanted to be able to see you." Juri looked at her feet. "But, I don't really know you at all, do I?"
"Hmm." Shiori responded, smiling distantly as she was hiding all of her thoughts. "Now try answering this. Who would know me? Who really knows you, Juri? That doesn't happen. No matter how hard we try."
"Are you alright?" Juri said, a bit mystified. "Do you have a fever? Did they put you on medication?"
"No," Shiori chuckled eerily, "It's just a little bit funny, you see. I thought I was going to step in front of that train and just kill myself. I couldn't care. I didn't want any of the options I thought might be left available to me." She pulled her other arm from under the sheet and set it on top of the first. Curling her fingers together. "You know, this isn't the first time I've tried something like this."
"No?" Juri frowned.
"No. Ask Nichol. He's heard all the stories. Seen me in action. Whenever we'd go to the clubs together, I'd live a new suicide. Never seriously though. I couldn't follow through because I had too much revenge to live for. He reminded me of that." Shiori sighed, but her expression still oddly content. "He reminded me I didn't have the guts to take what I wanted. To take you, him, my life. And when I wanted to prove that I did, he stopped me." She sputtered a strange laugh again. "He thought he was going to take something away from me again. Keep me alive. A little play puppet."
'You are on medication." Juri tried to sound dismissive. Waving one hand, a blur of motion in the deepening shadow. The sun was setting and nothing but dim reflections could be seen through the window.
"No." Shiori shook her head, "If I'm delirious, it's because I'm insane or happy or I can't describe it." She began to sit up from where she'd been leaning against the prop of the pillows. "It's silly really. They were simply doing routine lab work and found that . . . well, Juri, . . . they found that I'm going to be a mother."
Ooh baby blue is it true
I'm a free radical, libertine
"How'd you get my number? Dorothy? Damn her. She's here. Yes, and so is she. I suppose you're coming whether I want you to or not? Don't thank me." Nichol sneered into the telephone and closed it. Glancing up he saw Juri coming back into the waiting room. "Was she awake, I gather?"
"Yes." Juri sat down on the edge of a far seat, resting her elbows against her knees, curled forward. "She wasn't making much sense. Must have her on some medicine." Juri appraised him with a scrutinizing eye. "She's saying some odd things."
"I wouldn't know." Nichol said dismissively, "But I'm getting ready to leave this party. Barton just called my cell phone. Now I'm going to have to change the number or something."
"I'm surprised the hospital hasn't got you shut away in one of these rooms." Ruka commented, his voice still seeming strangely out of place.
Nichol scoffed, "I heal quickly. Barton's already on his way, so I'm checking out. Later." Nichol walked off without further comment.
"I wonder if he knows?" Juri said to herself.
"What's that?"
"Nothing." Juri shook her head, Ruka took the seat next to hers and leaned forward as well. Turning to watch her more closely.
"I feel odd." Ruka admitted, "Being here with you again. I can't remember why I would ever do anything else but be with you."
"Oh, and this is a great example of how we should spend our time together." Juri let the worried sarcasm slip into her tone.
"It's unusual, true." Ruka nodded, leaning back. Taking back his space. Providing distance.
"That's right." Juri noticed his body's language. "Pull back. Go away. Don't remember that you're the one who's the active leaver."
"I'd lost you a long time before I went away."
"And where did you go?" Juri leaned back herself, turning awkwardly in the seat to see him better. "Without telling any of us . . ."
"That's not entirely true." Ruka raised a finger, realizing the comment was a mistake as Juri's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I didn't think . . . I never imagined life like this, Juri. Where the best decisions are the ones that might hurt others and yourself."
"You were making all the decisions," Juri turned away, "You chose to pull back. You chose to disappear. Leaving me stranded here to volley the sympathetic looks, the pitying words, the raised eyebrows. And the questions. How was I supposed to answer the questions?"
"Was it that way?"
"No." Juri sighed, "No one actually asked the questions. Which made the unspoken answers linger all the longer."
With overwhelming sentimentality, Ruka reached out and touched her hair, "My girl." He said softly.
Juri closed her eyes. Wishing herself away from where she was. What she'd seen. Everything she knew. And who she had been.
"When I open my eyes," Juri began, "Are you going to be gone?"
"I realized that I had been depending on your life to supply breath for my own. All along. All these years." He paused, "I suppose I'm afraid to be away from you so long. And there is no way that I can stay."
She refused to try to understand his damned secretive logic and held her fingers to her temples. Shielding herself as best she could from the undulating, buzzing lights. When she felt his hand on her shoulders, she looked up. Saw Trowa. Heero not far behind.
But Ruka had slipped away.
It's not you that they came for?
the lies ring true
time plays tricks
You always knew
the wise feign injury
It's not you that they came for?
Rehearsals began to consume their existence. Saitou began to increase the pressure, the final week's rehearsal were to be violently productive. The dance scenes rough with passion, the songs cracked with emotion, the duels faulted with prowess.
While watching her closely, Juri watched the girl transform in the days following her temporary hospital stay. Glowing with inner confidence, Shiori slowly began to steal her scenes away with energetic and insightful depth to her arguably villainous character. Her building spirit created an intrinsic attraction that even the haughty Saionji had felt pulled into. Watching his pathetic petitions fall on her too amused ears.
"Saionji, listen to me." Shiori had curled one finger, beckoning the lime- locked actor. He had eagerly glided up to her side with a huskily whispered, "Yes, my dear. Anything." And with that, Shiori had found herself a quite willing lapdog. At least until it occurred to Saionji a few days later that he was no farther than he was before and being mocked again.
As much as Juri wanted to attribute the girl's revelation to the stressful imagination of her near death, the stunning vitality was certainly convincing to the alternate source. But then the truth of the comment left another question begging for answer.
"Who's the father?"
Shiori stopped walking away, and slowly turned to see Juri waiting alone in the middle of the hall. A few steps behind. To her credit, the girl avoided the coy tone she might have laced onto the answer. Instead she said sincerely, "I'm not sure."
"But you must have some idea." Juri protested.
"It's not your child." Shiori smiled sympathetically.
"Is it Nichol's? Does he know?"
"You're the only one who I've told." Neither of them moved. But the space around them seemed to shrink tight. "Besides those who've guessed."
"Who's guessed?" Juri persisted.
"Ruka."
With that the conversation finished.
I could do without lectures
So heaven protect us
From these bad vibes you're giving
Oh these bad vibes you're giving
"You've seemed to have lost the handle on your pet after your sudden display of heroics." Dorothy was pulling on the sleeves of her costume glancing in the mirror. Leaning so that she could better see Nichol's scowling reflection from the corner chair. "She's practically preening with enthusiasm these days. None to your credit, I'm sure."
"I didn't save her to have her swoon over me."
"No, she was doing that ~before~ you knocked her over." Dorothy let the last words roll off her tongue with flavored slowness. "Now, on the other hand, Shiori seems to be brimming with new life."
"I don't like what you're saying." Nichol grumbled. He was sitting backwards on the seat. His arms folded over the top of the wooden rest. Brows pulled tight. He had been avoiding the simple mathematical equation for some time. Although he had suspected, the truth would be clouded in uncertainty.
"Seems like the kitten has found an upper hand. Her calling. A life's mission." Dorothy pulled her pale fingers through her hair, "And all without my help. And it might be that she doesn't need yours either."
Dorothy reluctantly decided on a brush, holding her hair and only combing through the ends. Turning to watch Nichol continue to glower. Almost imagining she did see the ripples of heat rising from his figure.
"No one will probably say it, besides myself," Dorothy put down the brush and walked over to him, her hand on his shoulder an ivory contrast to his charcoal, "But I know that under all the games, the crass jokes and cruel intentions. You identify with her too much. Be happy. Shiori's escaped her lady. Escaping her revenge."
"Happy?" Nichol said, letting himself sound tired. "Right, I'll be happy when she stops lording it over me in all these scenes we have together."
"She hasn't said anything to you?"
"Not a word."
"She's become a tease. The worst kind." Dorothy mock-clucked her tongue, finding her fan prop and practiced opening it with one hand and closing it against the palm of the other.
Nichol pulled away from the chair. "Stop sounding like we've lost anything. Just because there's a new player doesn't mean we fold." He stomped out of the room.
"Oh, Nichol." Dorothy let her shoulders relax when he was some time gone. "But what if the child is yours?"
I saw the photographs too,
frozen reminders of what interest can do
And how he gave it to you,
a generous fool
forgets how hard he can bruise
But when you go to talk about your thing,
You make it great,
make it a brilliant thing
"It's a bit too cold for the bike." Catherine protested lazily, she was sprawled on Juri's couch and trying to convince Juri with her slyly unsubtle comments that she needed to be invited for a sleepover. She'd heard about Shiori's suicide attempt not long after from her brother. And had been keeping a closer eye on Juri since she knew, or at least suspected, that something significant and powerful was between those two women. Not that Catherine had been let in on much detail. Not that she felt as if she could pry.
"Catherine, I want to ask you something personal." Juri was in her easy chair, one leg draped over the arm, her elbow balanced so that her hand was screening her vision from any light. Her other hand holding an iced drink.
"Okay," Catherine put a little hesitation in her voice, turning her head up to the uneven ceiling. "Shoot."
"Will you ever resolve things with Sanosuke?"
"Oh." Catherine curled up her knees and rolled on her side. "That." For a time, silence balanced the night noises coming in through the window. And in one of the apartments not so far away, they could imagine where the boy lived. "I don't think I know how to, Juri. I'm a bit more professional at the screwing things up end. I can't even talk with Duo. And it's hard enough to see my daughter." Again the silence. The hour changed, and they both understood that Catherine was going to be staying the night. Relaxing in each other's company. "What happened to our moving forward motto? I liked that one." She tried a lighter texture of words.
"What if one can only move forward so much, until they realize they've been inevitably tethered to the past?" Juri set her drink on the nearby end table.
"Tied back?" Catherine sighed, "You'll have to ask someone else that one. Trowa, maybe. I'm not privy to that information. Did you realize that my brother was restlessly head over heels for that boyfriend of his for nearly ten years? Ten years before that thread pulled them back together."
"Ten?" Juri repeated, unable to comprehend.
"I couldn't manage to stay in love for six months."
"That sounds more normal." Juri said softly. "Your brother and Heero are a touch strange. I don't think duration is their most immediate problem."
"Why do you always start to ask me these things," Catherine said boldly, "Without explaining to me exactly why and what answers you seek?"
"I think for all my bravado," Juri said reluctantly, "I'm the passive one."
"Forward bravado or passive," Catherine replied quickly, "You're the genuine one." And after a moment. "I admire that."
It never ends when you're bored, curious and unsure
Inside out, but you still sigh
Playing mind games with yourself
Always get by with the lies,
Say it won't last it will
Page-it's alright, alright
It never ends when you're bored, curious and unsure
"Unless I'm mistaken," the voice splintered his latest round of staring into oblivion, "Your sister promised me I wasn't going to be taking you home again."
"I'm not drunk." Sanosuke said, still holding his glass. While there was only evidence of one, Ruka still took what remained from the boy's fingers, sitting across from him.
Ruka tasted the drink and winced, "This is nasty, Sano. What sort of mess have you gotten yourself into?"
"I'm not in a mess," Sano was still able to speak properly and met Ruka's appraising glance with a steady eye. "I've been rejected from the mess and deemed unworthy of loving her."
"Hmm." Ruka nodded, trying to look wise.
"Man, I suppose you understand that all too well." Sano frowned. "Watching you and Juri grow apart. And you had something built up. My girl, she was just . . . enjoying the scenery. Handling a little road bump."
"I hope that's the alcohol talking. Although, you must realize, that not every bump can be smoothed out. Definitely not by that booze you're wasting good money on." Ruka said. "Tell me, Sanosuke. Whatever happened with Misao? When I left, she was attached to you like you were an ungreased pot."
"Lovely," Sano snickered, "Well, now we know why Kenshin's the scribe of the Road Rage and not you."
"Sano," Ruka warned lightly.
"I don't know, she suddenly seemed too much my age."
"And how old are you, twenty-one?"
"Almost twenty-two."
Ruka laughed, "Forgive me, Sano. I shouldn't sit here laughing like this." Ruka fell back in the seat, his eyes closed against even the lowered lights of the Velvet. Holding himself with one arm, laughing. His unruly hair folding in around his face.
"What's this?" Sano snorted, trying not to fall into his own fever of inexplicable laughter.
"If you have it this bad at twenty-two, kid, then it's only going to get bleaker. Trust me." Ruka stopped laughing, but still sat crumpled in his seat, his face pale even in the shadowed lights. "Drink slower."
"Fine." Sano shrugged, "I just don't have much else to do these nights."
"Did you consider going back to school?"
"Why?" Sano wrinkled his nose, "I just escaped."
"Not so much, and not so soon." Ruka began to re-stretch out his limbs, pulling out his torso like an accordion, his breath likewise coming out in a low wheeze. "But, my boy, you have talent. If Saitou hasn't told you, I'd be surprised if he doesn't soon. I can think of a handful of grad schools that might take you, and eagerly." Sano still seemed reluctant. "You know who you should ask about it is that Trowa Barton fellow. He went to one of the best schools in the country."
"Trowa?" Sano hesitated, then with a great deal more enthusiasm. "I suppose I could ask him."
Ruka smiled weakly, "Don't let it get to your head." While he himself was overwhelmed with relief that he'd just briefly and once again recovered and glimpsed the boy's true smile.
Even if it were to be the only thing he could accomplish in his short time.
It's just hard to be recumbent again
It comes and ruins your day, a shove in the side
enough to drive you insane
But when you go to talk about your thing,
Make it great, make it a brilliant thing
It never ends when you're bored, curious and unsure