Author's note: Humble apologies for taking so long to get this chapter out....college seems to be quite time-consuming ^^ You probably should go reread at least the previous chapter to remember where it left off.
Please put up with Juuhachi's wanderings through this chapter, as there's actually some symbolism in it and it all leads to the climactic moment we've been waiting for…
Soul Music
Juuhachigou ran through the forest, through the rain and the mud, away from the cabin, away from her brother, away from the bloody apparitions that tortured her in the silence of her mind. She did not think, she only ran--but she could not escape the emotions chasing after her. Betrayal. Pain. Loneliness. Fear.
Her brother had betrayed her. They were different from the rest of humanity, but still twins, still alike, because they had both been altered. By denying the scars that made them the same, he denied the bloody truth of their existence and renounced the bond between them. She was not his sister anymore--so she had attacked him, because he was no longer her brother.
It hurt, knowing he really didn't care about her, even though a tiny part of her had suspected as much ever since she had to track him down after he was brought back to life. His experience with Cell, with death, had changed him--all that mattered to him now was the game he called "life." Or maybe she had changed. The knowledge that not even a powerful dragon could change her back into a human had ingrained a feeling of abnormality into her forever--there was no sense in pretending she was just a regular human. But Juunanagou didn't understand that. Juunanagou didn't understand anything. The bastard had abandoned her. Now, no one was like her, no one could understand her, no one could comfort her when she saw terrible visions of a body glistening with blood, of gleaming metal cutting soft flesh, of electric blue eyes promising only pain--
She was alone. And afraid, for she all she could hope for now was an isolated--and eternal--life with nothing to call her own except a storm of memories.
She ran on mindlessly, tirelessly, without any destination. Her legs carried her out of the forest, over slippery green hills, along a muddy dirt road until it turned into a paved street. She passed through neighborhoods, seemingly deserted since the rain kept people indoors.
Eventually the rain turned to drizzle, then stopped completely but she kept running. Suddenly the sun glared through the cracks in the clouds and abruptly Juuhachigou became aware of her surroundings again. She stopped. She had control of herself again. Gone were the painful emotions that had driven her this far; now all she felt was anger.
I'll never go back to that cabin again, she decided at that moment. Never. Juunanagou's cabin had ripped her mind to shreds and stripped her of all self-control. It had killed her brother. She hated that place.
But where could she go now?
The city--it called out to her. Memories returned to her: towering buildings, colorful shops, masses of people. Despite her violent rejection of the city only days ago, it still promised to cover her tortured mind with a blanket of noise and diversions and a secret life among ordinary people. Those who had singled her out and made her different were dead; now she had the chance to live in anonymity.
She wouldn't be pretending she was normal--Juunanagou did enough of that, hiding alone in his cabin. Juuhachigou, on the other hand, would throw herself into a sea of people and drown her abnormal self, so that the only part that stayed afloat would be the tiny piece of her that was still human.
The city offered--and Juuhachigou could not refuse.
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The north side of Chamomile City was the complete opposite of downtown. Instead of orderly, shiny, steel-and-glass skyscrapers and neat stores and cafes, this place consisted of haphazardly constructed buildings, some painted in wild colors and decorated with intricate graffiti. Paper scraps and beer cans littered the alleys while weeds poked up through cracks in the sidewalk. Unlike the polished artifice of the urban center, this neighborhood felt careless and gritty.
It was evening now and the setting sun lured the denizens of the neighborhood out onto the streets. Juuhachigou wandered down the streets, observing her surroundings. Some people stood in groups, chatting, while others played music. More cars drove past, heading for a night at the bars and clubs further down the street.
A young man with blue-dyed dreadlocks who wore nothing but a pair of paint-smeared jeans set up a portable easel a couple yards ahead of Juuhachigou; she halted near him to observe what he was doing. Using a knife, he smeared mauve paint onto his canvas, then used a brush to create several rectangular shapes. He noticed Juuhachigou watching and smiled at her without turning away from his work.
"Tha subtle intahplay of light and shad-ah at sunset is exhilarating," he sighed, dabbing crimson on to his picture. "Ya gotta let it capture ya, let it embrace ya like a lov-ah, before ya can try ta put it on pap-ah. Ya'know?"
Juuhachigou raised her eyebrows, momentarily surprised that he would talk to her so freely. "Like a lover?" she echoed, not understanding. She examined his painting, then stared at the buildings on the opposite side of the street, bathed in sunglow.
"Yeah. Like a lov-ah." He was painting with yellow now. "Tha light's warm, gentle, kind--like tha body of the pahson who loves ya more than anything. Tha light don't care what ya're, tha light make tha ugly be beautiful. Ya'know?"
Like a lover, she repeated in her mind. It doesn't care what I am? She looked at the painter. He didn't care that she was a cyborg, a stranger to him and this part of town, yet he spoke to her; did he love her? The thought brought an unconscious small smile to her lips.
The light makes the ugly look beautiful.
If she stood in this spot on the sidewalk long enough, soaking up the sunset, the light would paint her the way the artist colored his canvas, covering all flaws and remaking her into someone better.
Her hand drifted to her chest, and Juuhachigou knew without looking that the scar was still there under the fabric of her shirt. Her smile vanished. She left the blue-haired painter and hurried down the street.
As the sky grew darker, lights turned on: white streetlamps along the sidewalk, yellow lights next to doorways, golden lamps from house windows, bright neon signs above the clubs and bars. She passed by a group of people who were singing loudly to the strumming of a guitar. Juuhachigou had been right to come to the city, where comforting lights and sounds welcomed her and surreal memories couldn't follow her.
She spotted a glowing pink sign that read "The Lost-n-Found"; warm light and loud music spilled out of the open door beneath it and illuminated crowd gathered on the sidewalk. Juuhachigou wanted to go inside, to sink into the sounds and the sights of other people, but something else caught her attention: a rich, deep melody drifting on the evening air. She followed it to its source across the street and found an old, dark-skinned man sitting beneath a streetlamp. He held a curved gold instrument in his hands and blew air into it with his mouth, producing the elegant notes she had heard. He ceased playing as she approached him.
"What is that?" she asked.
"Oh, just a little piece I wrote myself," he replied; his voice was rough, not at all like the beautiful sound she had followed. "I call it 'Searching for Love'. You like it?"
Juuhachigou blinked. "I meant that," she clarified, indicating his musical instrument.
"This?" The man lifted it up and laughed. "This is a saxophone. Had it for 22 years. It's a part of me--without it, I'd be nothing. Take away my life, but not my music, I always say."
Take away my life. A shivering sensation washed over Juuhachigou. Everything that had been part of her had been taken away. Her life. Her body. Her mind. Even Juunanagou. And unlike this man with his music, she had nothing left. She was hopelessly unhuman, lacking everything that this man had. She had no memory of the past, no future with her brother, no life to enjoy--no death, either, since Kuririn made that wish with the dragonballs that took away the bomb Dr. Gero had put inside her.
Gero--Kuririn--Juunanagou--they had all taken something away from her and left her only with pain. And now this saxophone man had taken away the feeling of comfort she had found in this city.
Anger pushed away the chills on her spine as she raised a hand to attack the man who reminded her of all she had lost--but he had started playing on his saxophone again. The rage vanished abruptly and her hand dropped; she simply stood there, just outside the circle of the streetlight, and listened to the music.
When he finished, the man stood up stiffly. "Music comes from the soul," he said. Then he stepped out of the spotlight of the lamp and disappeared into the darkness. Juuhachigou stared at the circle of light for a long moment then walked back across the dark street to the club.
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The dragonballs will save them! The dragonballs will save them!
The phrase cycled through Kuririn's mind like a little chorus of joy as he walked between Yamucha and Puaru. They strolled down the street that, according to the Chamomile phone book, had the most musical entertainment in the city. "Man, this is the place" Yamucha announced. "There's so many clubs here!"
"There's even more live music," Puaru added. "Look how many people are out here, playing their own songs."
"Yeah, it's cool," Yamucha agreed, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Free entertainment."
They kept walking, enjoying the lively atmosphere. The whole street seemed like a big party, full of music and dancing and people having fun. To Kuririn, it was like a celebration anticipating the resurrection of the dead people as soon as he found the dragonballs. He felt so light, so relieved. The dragonballs will save them! He was no longer guilty.
Not as guilty anyway. He still had to find Juuhachigou, still had to convince her how evil murder was, still had to try to make her into a normal, good person--
"Ooh. Look at this!" Puaru squealed suddenly. He pointed at a poster hanging from the purple-painted wall of the apartment building next to them.
"Karaoke contest," Yamucha read aloud. "Sing to random songs and win the jackpot. From 11 to 1 PM. Twenty zenni entry fee. " He looked at Kuririn and Puaru. "What do you think? Should we try it? If we win, I'll get back all the money I've spent chasing after this guy!" He tousled Kuririn's hair and laughed. Kuririn smiled sheepishly.
"Let's do it!" Puaru suggested, raising a paw into the air.
"Yeah, I feel like singing," Kuririn agreed. "Where's it at?"
Yamucha, standing closest to the poster, read: "The Lost-n-Found Musical Restaurant & Bar. Two blocks down the street." He turned to Kuririn and Puaru with a grin. "C'mon, let's go!" He broke into a run; Kuririn and Puaru chased after him, laughing wildly.
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"Thank you! Thank you! Let's give it up for these gals!" exclaimed the hostess of the Lost-n-Found's karaoke contest as she ushered the previous contestants off the stage. "Careful, watch the steps. Okay. Next!" The next contestant, an old balding man, made his way up to the unfinished lumber stage to stand in the glare of three spotlights beneath a rainbow string of twinkling Christmas lights.
"Oh man, this place is a trip," Yamucha muttered to Kuririn. They stood somewhere in the middle of line of people waiting for their brief time in the limelight; he couldn't really see how many people where ahead or behind them due to the dim lighting in the rest of the bar. The grungy clientele probably preferred to hide in the dark. He yawned. The old man on stage sang. He yawned again. Kuririn elbowed him and hissed, "Wake up." Yamucha stuck out his tongue.
After several musical performances of varying talent, Yamucha, Puaru, and Kuririn finally stood at the front of the line. Yamucha dropped a twenty into the entry fee collection jar and the hostess summoned them with, "Come on up, y'all!" While they stood blinking in the bright spotlights, she drew a slip of paper out of box and announced the song they would have to sing. Yamucha groaned as he heard the title; it was a sappy oldie about a forlorn lover.
"I don't know this one, guys," Puaru whispered.
Kuririn grinned up at the cat and winked. "I know this one by heart, so don't worry." He picked up the microphone.
Remember the prize money, Yamucha told himself as the music started. He looked down at the karaoke screen in front of them. The words appeared and Yamucha and Kuririn began to sing while Puaru lip-synced with them. Yamucha was faintly aware of some cheering from the audience as Kuririn really put enthusiasm into his performance; he clutched the microphone, eyes closed and voice filled with the heartache described in the song. He's good at this, Yamucha thought. He decided to sing only the backup part and let Kuririn dominate the melody. Sing your heart out, Kuririn. We're gonna win!
Kuririn continued to sing, completely ignoring the karaoke screen as he eloquently conveyed the bittersweetness of the love song to the audience. Yamucha dreaded the high notes at the end of the song, but Kuririn threw himself into the tremulous long notes with such emotional intensity that even Yamucha felt moved. The song was nearly finished and Yamucha could almost feel the prize money in his hands.
A sharp, off-key shriek cut through the music and something flashed out from the black emptiness beyond the reach of the stage lights to slam Kuririn onto his back. Yamucha turned and all the blood rushed from his head as he saw Juuhachigou.
The monster had returned.
She straddled Kuririn's body and choked his neck. Kuririn did not even attempt to fight back against her overpowering cyborg strength. The karaoke music was cut off and the hostess on stage was screaming for the bouncers to intervene. Yamucha's fighting instincts returned in a flash of terror and he fired a panicked ki blast at Juuhachigou as he leapt away from her to push the screeching hostess off the stage to safety. The ball of energy hit the cyborg full on, but she ignored it completely, even as light bulbs shattered and tables overturned and frightened patrons fled from the bar. She concentrated only on throttling Kuririn and slamming his head into the floor of the stage with such force that the wood splintered. Puaru hid behind Yamucha's shoulder, whimpering.
"YOU--" Juuhachigou shrieked. "WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?" Kuririn's head shattered the wood as she slammed him down again. She leaned her face close to his, not loosening her grip on his neck. "Why do you keep hurting me?" she demanded, tears falling from her eyes onto Kuririn's face.
A machine like her can cry? Yamucha's mind wondered absently while the rest of him stood in silent, frozen helplessness as he watched the scene before him.
Juuhachigou let out a sob and one hand let go of Kuririn's neck in order to slap him. He coughed and spat blood, then turned to face her again. "Your pain--" his voice rasped, but Juuhachigou cut him off by encircling his neck with both hands again.
"Stop it!" she cried, shaking her head and flinging out a shower of tears. Kuririn looked up at her, his lips forming words although he could not speak. Then he closed his eyes and smiled.
Immediately Juuhachigou released him and jumped backwards to float in the air just beyond the stage. Yamucha and Puaru hurried to Kuririn's side. "Are you okay?" Yamucha asked, cradling his friend's head and pulling splinters out of his hair.
"Why can't I kill you?" Juuhachigou demanded. Kuririn sat up slowly, coughing but still smiling at the cyborg hovering in the air before him. He wiped one of her tears from his cheek and replied, "Because you're human after all."
Juuhachigou reached up to touch the tears running down her face. Eyes wide, she sank to the ground and collapsed on the floor, crying softly into her hands. Kuririn shrugged off Yamucha. Forcing himself to his feet, he walked to the edge of the stage where he dropped to one knee and extended a hand towards Juuhachigou. She looked up at him, no longer crying, although wet streaks still shone on her skin. After a moment, she pointedly ignored his hand and stood up by herself; now she and Kuririn were eye to eye, with him kneeling on the stage before her.
"Come with me," Kuririn said softly. Then he leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She took an involuntary step backwards and raised a trembling hand to her face. Kuririn rose to his feet and looked back at Yamucha. "Let's get out of here," he suggested, his throat hoarse from being choked; bruises were already evident around his neck. Yamucha could only nod and follow his friend off the stage through the debris to the exit. He paused at the door to glance back at Juuhachigou; she still stood in front of the ruined stage, but he could not see her face nor guess at her emotions. Puaru nudged his shoulder gently and they left the bar.
They trailed a few feet behind Kuririn as they walked back along the street they had taken when they had arrived here earlier this evening in an attempt to distract Kuririn from Juuhachigou. That failed completely, Yamucha thought ironically. He stared at Kuririn's back and tried to make sense of the events he had just witnessed, but then he realized he would have to wait for Kuririn to enlighten him.
Suddenly he heard footsteps on the sidewalk beside him. He turned to see who had tried to sneak up on them and almost screamed when he saw Juuhachigou. She looked at Yamucha cooly, flipped her hair over a shoulder, and then fell in step beside Kuririn. Yamucha stood back, completely stunned, as he watched them continue down the sidewalk. Together. Human and cyborg. Or simply--man and woman.
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Author's second note: Did you think about Juuhachi's "visions of a body glistening with blood, of gleaming metal cutting soft flesh, of electric blue eyes promising only pain"? These images come from Juuhachigou's memories of what Gero did to her, but they also describe her last memory of Juunana (in which he is glistening from rain and blood, holding the metal ax that he used to kill the bear, and his eyes cause Juuhachi pain because even though they look just like her own, but he still doesn't care about her). Plus, her own blue eyes bring her pain when she sees them in the mirror. Kinda sucks for Juu-chan. Maybe she likes Kuririn's dark eyes better? ^_~
So what did you think of the scene where Kuri and Juu finally meet up? Was it anything like you expected? I do like the parallel between Kuririn being kissed on the cheek by Juuhachigou in the series and now returning the favor. I admit, this whole scene might seem a little unclear since it's from Yamucha's point of view, but I hope that I've given you a good enough image of the character's hearts in the previous chapters so that you can interpret what's happening. ^_^ Let me know if you really don't have a clue what's going on.
There's another chapter coming up! ^_^ So stay tuned. Leave a review with your comments or e-mail me at crazy_retasu@yahoo.com.