Chapter III
Mirror
Wow. . .apologies about how late this chapter was. . .but I had this monster exam and a paper due, and, being the procrastinater that I am. . .
Thank you:
dragontiger: Wow. . .that IS really strange. . .! ^_^ I guess you've got the soundtrack. . .? Unfair!
geniusgirl: . . .really? You thought so? *squeals* Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!!
Neko-Metallium: ^_^ I'm pleased. But. . .you should know it was an attempt at reverse psychology. Don't strangle me! Please!!
Hello. . .I'm back!! Sorry 4 the delay. . .we had exams and papers due! I'm SO glad 8th grade is nearly over!!
Hikari again: Yes, it is I, the eccentric and VERY crazy DragonSun!!!
Yami: She likes to promote this image. It keeps the real psychos away from her.
DS: *deliberate and twitching stare* Then how come you aren't goin' anywhere, buster!?
Yami: *starry-eyed* Wow. . .thanks!
DS: I managed to re-combine myself. . .this stupid thing *gestures at Yami* keeps coming back, though. And now for the DISCLAIMER: I don't own escaflowne. . .ahh. . .ahh. . .ahhhchooo!!!! Stupid recurring dreams about snow. . . ^_^ *tired smile* Ah, yes. . . strange dreams about wrestling cute anime boys in snow. They always win. Bah, I'm so weak.
On to chapter threeeeeeechoo! I *snuffle* guess. . .*sniff*
Chapter III Mirror, Mirror (A/N: No, this does not happen to me. Not yet.)
You know when you wake up sometimes, it doesn't feel like you're really there? So you get in front of the mirror and go "Wow" because you didn't expect to see your ugly mug staring back at you, right? And then you give yourself a pinch, just to check if you're still dreaming or not. Sound slightly familiar? I don't blame you if it doesn't.
This sort of thing happens to me often. I've generally given up pinching myself because I'm so numb I don't feel it. A slight squeeze to the pendant and the irate howl of a disturbed Yami proves that I'm still physically living in this dimensional plain-physically. I don't have a clue where my mind has gone.
I got up like that this morning. Yami, of course, blew up into a louder string of oaths than usual, but maybe he didn't get enough sleep last night. He and his Gaean buddies were throwing a loud bash in the corner of my mind. It's safe to say I didn't get enough sleep last night, either. You even have a clue of how difficult it is to sleep when you can clearly hear almost everything they're yelling and laughing about? Not just the volume of it, too. The content of their in-ter-est-ing conversations is definitely in-ter-est-ing enough to keep anyone awake for five or six hours.
I don't mind that. It's almost fun to listen in, because they can't do anything about it. Hell, if I could do something about it, I would. It's been long enough since I got a good night's rest. The only thing I mind is when Dilly refers to me with some very abusive terms. At that point I give the pendant a squeeze. It's also funny when he yells in pain, because his buddies all stop laughing and talking and stare at him, and then there's a dead silence while he tries to explain that I don't like being called so-and-so. Most of these terms are more rude than the F-word you see me write so often.
I'm not known for having these problems. I'm sweet Celena Schezar, A student, thoughtful, quiet. No, I am not a pansy-picking little Girl Scout. Mention those terms to my face and they'll never find your body. And if you're bigger than I am, I'll get my Yami to kill you. Either way, it all works out. For me, I mean. Maybe not for you. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Celena Schezar is taking a stand, cursing, and perhaps even being violent.
I was hoping today Yami wouldn't howl. Then I would still be dreaming. Because today is truly the end of the world. No, the universe.
I have to go to the mall.
To hang out with. . .with. . .Millerna.
And go shopping. Do "Girl" things. Like talking about boys. Who's cute. Who's popular. Who still plays with Barbies. The big Picture. Allen. My crushes. Marriage. Proposal. Engagement. And God forbid. . .children.
Yami loves this. He loves to see me suffering. Bastard. He won't be laughing so hard after an afternoon with this banshee. He'll be cursing. Screaming. Begging for release from torture.
Yeah. That sort of thing. Not to mention I have an exam next week and also I need to apologize to the orchestra instructor and find some way to salvage my position in the orchestra. And find a way not to be expelled. All without Allen knowing.
It's all your stupid fault, Yami.
//I'm very sorry.// He doesn't mean a word of it. But I suppose that's obvious. To anyone. After all, Yami is naturally sarcastic and deep-down cynical, and no, you can't push forward the image that he's a true "Nature-Lover" at heart, because he just isn't. He likes to burn things, torture things, and watch anything living die. Exactly how morbid is that?
When Dilly gets depressed it's another story. He just mopes around in his little blue mood, doing nothing, saying nothing. Doesn't sulk, doesn't yell, doesn't complain. Doesn't scream for more fire and for things to burn. You really have to be depressed if you're a pyro, true blue (or red) and never fail, and you don't even want to think about or play with fire. Or burn someone.
I never could understand evil alter egos entrapped in pendants from Egypt.
III
Allen was going to drive me to the mall-to look after me until she came, he said, but I know it was really because he wanted to have a little snuggle with Milly-hime until he had to leave-but I told him it was okay, and I took the subway instead. We would go to the arcade afterward. Then I would go home.
In one piece.
Alive.
Hopefully.
Remember that couple in the park? I've been thinking a lot about them. Dilly's been interrupting, of course. Now he's starting to tease. I can return fire, of course. I'm not as weak and defenseless as you may have thought. I have taken lessons in karate. I can flip people. But that's about it. . .
Now that I've thought about them for a long time, I'm starting to realize just who they were. I don't see these people a lot, but I looked in an old year book and found them.
Van and Hitomi. Cute, huh? We'd always said they'd end up together somehow. When we were younger-when Van lived in downtown Fanelia and came up to visit every now and then. Hitomi had a crush on Allen, and Allen liked Hitomi a bit, but in the end Van won her over. I like Van. I think he's smart. And not bad-looking. It's almost too bad he's taken. But. . .Hitomi and Van. . .go together. Like. . .uh. . .peanut butter and jelly.
//That the best example you can come up with, aibou?// Dilly taunts. //Honestly, I was expecting better from you. . .//
A moment later, his angry scream is resounding through my mind.
//WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR, YOU STUPID BITCH!?!??!//
//Language, language. . .// I chide. Dilandau can't stand Van. Oh-I forgot to mention that both Hitomi and Van know about my. . .er. . ."problem." I think Dilly's jealous.
As revenge however, Dilly had a bit of a hand in my attire for the day. He'd stolen a shirt from somewhere that said "I used to be schizophrenic, but we're okay now."
I had to laugh at that. People don't know how true it really is.
III
To illustrate my point about how being near Millerna is torturous- let's give this example. She flirts with absolutely every single damn guy in sight. Even the really old people. Gods. And then when they're getting all excited that this great-looking blonde bombshell wants to go out with them, she says, "It's just too bad that I'm already taken!"
I can't stand it. Allen doesn't mind, of course. I don't mind that part, either-it's after she's done that she points to me and says "but Celena's single, isn't she cute?" And then I'll have seventy-year-olds looking at me and drooling.
It's sickening.
You've got to wonder exactly what the world's come to. Evil alter egos in pendants and lewd prehistoric people who leer at fifteen-year-olds.
One has to admit, however-Millerna does have talent. Who else would be able to send senile oldies salivating after her? Not me. Not Hitomi. And definitely not Dilandau. Well. . .old people give me the creeps. Hitomi's not a slut. And Dilandau. . .
//I don't know about that. . .// Dilly chuckles-making me wonder, exactly who did Dilly dig?
//No one you'd be able to understand, oh dearest aibou,// he adds condescendingly.
//I suppose you don't like blondes?// I say, in both questioning and pleading tones.
//That, aibou, is for me to know and for you to never find out,// Yami says. He's grinning at me. Grrr.
Yami grins wider and sends a ferocious roar at me. I cover my ears and yelp, "Dammit, Yami!!"
And of course, I shout this aloud for the entire world to hear. After all, if I did everything right, would this story be interesting? No!
And all the stupid people on the stupid subway turn and look at me. Dilandau cackles with glee. I put my hand up to my left ear like I'm talking into a phone.
"No, Yami, I said I didn't want white roses!"
They're still staring. So that explanation isn't good enough for them?
"What?! You what?! The cops are after you!? No, Yami. I'm not going to bail you out this time. Look, will you listen to me!? I told you before that if you robbed another flower shop I wasn't going to help you!! No, I don't care if you forgot your wallet!! Yami, that's no excuse to rob the damned shop!!! No, not even if you love me!!! I'm freakin' allergic!!!!"
Satisfied, they all go back to their own little lives.
//Very clever,// Dilandau murmurs admiringly.
//It's all your fault, you know?!// I shoot back with much vengeance. And the pendant gets a very nasty pinch, of course.
He yells in pained surprise. Like he actually thought I wasn't going to do it.
Sucker. I'm not as weak or timid as he thinks.
//Yeah, right.//
And for that little interlude, he gets another pinch. But by now I'm feeling sorry for him, so I stop.
//Weakling,// he whispers, but he's being careful. . .
III
Ah, fresh air. I look out the window at the sidewalk two stories below me. Why don't we jump. . .?
//No, aibou,// Dilandau says forcefully. He jerks me backwards with his mind and I'm frozen momentarily as he starts his lecture.
Only he doesn't lecture.
//If you died, aibou, there wouldn't be much left for me to do,// he says calmly. My Yami. Calmly. Usually, those two words never come near each other in a sentence. In fact, calmly + Dilly = Screaming Celena chasing her Yami around with a frying pan. //It's my duty to keep you from destroying us. Think of it as a double-sided self-preservation act. Besides,// he adds, with a more Dilly-like malicious chuckle, //it wouldn't be half as fun teasing you if you died, ne, aibou?//
He has my hands in his while he's talking to me. And holding them very gently.
Yami. Gently. Uh-uh. No can do.
I'm suddenly struck by how many times I've ended up like this with Yami in the past few weeks. First, when he was drunk. Second, the dreaded lunch. Third, the playground. And now. . .
At the mall.
//Yami. . .please. . .//
//Huh?// he looks away like he'd been burned-ironic, but that's exactly how he did it. Like he'd been burned. He drops my hands a moment later, after he realizes he's still holding them.
//Uh. . .never mind.//
Dilly cackles just then, making a quick, quick recovery. Even I'm surprised at the rate he can swap masks and emotions.
//So, then,// he says, //when I want you to die, I'll do it myself. Got it?//
//No robbing flowershops.//
He pouts. //Can I burn the flowershops?//
//No.//
//Steal all the flowers and then burn them?//
//No.//
//Kill everyone and then--//
//I said no, Yami.//
"HEY!!! CELENA!!! ANYBODY IN THERE!?!?!?"
Ye Gods. She's found me. I had been hiding behind a rack of men's leather jackets-which Dilly had threatened to burn, but that was a while ago. No, this can't be happening. Ye Gods, what lungs, what voice. . .!
Millerna in all her smiling fashion and shrill giggles. The Godzilla of my nightmares. Oh god. Oh god, oh god. I do my best to grin and say, in a strangled sort of voice. . .
"Hi, Milly!! What sort of outfit have you found now?!"
Dilandau sniggers. I squeeze the pendant and continue smiling brightly, even though my grin is starting to fade. I make no effort to keep it there, and Dilly's sour yowl isn't helping at all.
She holds up pink suit that's barely skimpy enough to cover anything. I gulp.
"Y-you w-want m-m-me to p-p-put th-that on?" I quaver, pointing at it with a shaking finger.
"No, silly girl. I'm going to put it on. You're going to wear this." With her other hand, she yanks out a thick blue belt of some sort. Which sounds okay, until I realize that it isn't a belt, but a microscopic mini-skirt.
I can't take it anymore-I bolt. It's the skirt or my life-I'll take my life, no matter how twisted. Gods help me. Help! Run or die of humiliation.
"No, wait!" she grabs my arm. Yami sends out an indignant howl of rage. It takes an effort for me to bring myself to stop him. I mean. . .for once, I don't care if he attacks Millerna. Yami can't stand it if anyone hurts me. It's kind of sweet, if not a sort of attractive factor. But it gets annoying sometimes. Well. . .he can't stand it if anyone *else* hurts me. If *he* hurts me, in his definition, it's funny.
"Heh," I laugh nervously. Gods, don't tell me I actually have to get into that thing.
"I brought someone that you should meet! You know-I thought that maybe you might want a-um-well-please, Celena, just put it on!!"
"Can I pick my own shirt, then?" I ask, in a desperate attempt to ensure the covering of my derrière.
"Sure," she says, waving around at least sixteen twenty dollar bills. Mr. Aston is loaded. As a result, his daughters are also loaded. It's logical, ne?
I run to the Yu-Gi-Oh! section of the store and snatch up the largest size I can find. Thank the gods. It goes to mid-thigh and makes up for the almost non-existent miniskirt. Millerna gives it a look of utmost disgust.
"Celena, they won't be able to see your legs!"
"That's the point," I mutter, sending her the ugliest of death-glares when her back is turned. Thank you, Gundam Wing.
"See, that one over there is much better!" she gestures at midriff revealing tank top-also pink.
"I get cold easily," I say quickly, searching for excuses. "Uh. . .you wouldn't want me blue in the face, now would you?"
"It would be an interesting effect!" she sulks, but pays for the miniskirt and shirt, and her own tiny suit.
"Could I ask who we're meeting?"
"Just a few friends," she says. But she gives me an odd look, and she said it much too quickly. . .
Dilandau seems to have gone to sleep again. He needs a lot of sleep, and a hell of a lot of sugar to keep his usual hyperactive self alive. He sleeps light, though. Once again-thank the gods. I think.
"Uh. . ."
Once inside the bathrooms, Millerna lets me use her nail-file to sand the tags down until they break. Grumbling mentally as I file the plastic, I listen to Dilandau's unlikely but peaceful silence. Too soon the line snaps. Too soon I pull the overlarge shirt over my head, blessing its hugeness. Too soon I yank on the little mini.
Too soon the stall door opens.
She claps her hands. "Oh, you look great!! Hitch that shirt up a bit, okay? We can't even see the skirt!"
//It doesn't deserve to be called a skirt, dammit.//
More silence from the Yami side. Oh well. Not like he'd be enjoying this. But I'd be enjoying seeing him yelling.
Smirk time. "So. . .who are we meeting, again?"
Millerna begins babbling. "Uh, Celena, it's a friend of mine we're meeting, uh, his name is Ataru and he's really very cute and I'm sure you'd like him because I thought you might and after all Allen said it was okay and then maybe you two would like each other and then well since we're going to go and see him and then Allen-"
"Huh?" I say blankly, my face wiped like a recently cleaned plate.
"-Oh, Celena," she says, waving her hands helplessly through the constraining pink jumpsuit, "Allen and I found you a fiancé!!"
Oh. Dear. God. In. Heaven!
"WHAT?!!!?" I explode.
Slowly, the shock settles and my mind unsticks itself.
"You. . .uh. . .got me a fiancé?" I say, in tones too calm to be good, even for me. "As in. . .arranged marriage sort of thing?"
"Celena. . .Allen and I are probably going to get married once we graduate from college. . ."
". . .And you wanted me out of the way."
"Sort of."
She drags me out of the bathroom as I wonder if screaming will help to complicate matters further.
There're two people waiting inside the video arcade-which is where Millerna drags me, by the way. A tall-uh, let's say--*very* well built woman waiting with a delicate boy who looks around thirteen.
He doesn't speak, instead, stares at me with these HUGE, limpid, cow- like eyes. I mean HUGE eyes.
"God. . ."
"What's that?" the woman demands aggressively. She's running an eye over my strange attire and giving me what I would deem to be her sinister version of The Evil Eye. Not my fault. Blame it on my brother's slutty girl-friend. This woman has piggy little eyes, unlike her son- -hard and cold an somewhat cheap. Like she picked them up off a garage sale after beating down their owner price by price- -perhaps literally. I wonder how much her parents had to pay her husband to marry her? I notice she's wearing too much makeup. And someone forgot their shoes in the bathroom. . .
Me.
We sit down at a booth and order some French fries. Millerna is happily humming 'Itsy-Bitsy-Spider' to the boy, who looks exactly how I feel right now- -
Completely freaked out.
"Hello, Miss. . .and your brother. . ."
"Wearvolphe," she answers, obviously pleased I "mistook" her for a Miss. "Irmgard Wearvolphe. And this is my son, Ataru Wearvolphe."
And I thought Mr. Aston was Satan.
III
So Yami snores while I don't even try to pretend I like this kid Ataru. Who's actually nineteen, by the way. He's just small for his age.
Whatever.
This is seriously a violation of 1st amendment rights. But then- -I remember- -this story isn't set in America. It's in Japan, and Allen is technically my legal guardian.
Damn.
//YAMI!!!!//
No answer.
//YAAAAAAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!//
Still no answer.
I think about the time Dilandau tripped and landed on top of me. I thought his song was cute. And, as I said before, he was comfy. When he woke up with his head in my lap, all he did was smile this lopsided, goofy smile and bat, much like a little kitten with fire amber eyes, at the pendant.
He's like a kitten in a lot of ways, my Yami. While he doesn't look it, he can be very gentle with things. In fact- -
". . .so. . .what do you think?"
And Mrs. Wearvolphe has been relating how we're going to get married. Not me with her, mind. Her son and me. He's just staring at me with a sort of liquid happiness.
I stare back with a sort of blank I'm-not-really-here-plus-I'm-mental- and-have-an-evil-alter-ego-who-wants-to-destroy-the-world-ness.
"I. . .I. . ." frantic, I look around for some sort of savior. This is the god damn twenty-first century!! People. Don't. Have. Arranged. Marriages!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Ataru gives me this simpering I-love-you smile. And his cow-eyes are still bright and just WAY too big for it to be right. I even think he has mascara on, come to think of it. I mean. . .no one's eyelashes can naturally be that thick. Fake eyelashes, maybe?
Oh, god. Why am I thinking of everything else but what's important!? He blinks and the fake/real/I'm not sure eyelashes move up and down, fluttering happily as he clasps his hands.
I don't marry the same gender. I just want to make it clear that I am one hundred percent straight. So. . .this "marriage"- -not happening.
"Well. . .? You'll be married as soon as Ataru can finish college and you graduate from high school."
No, no. You've got it all wrong. I was going to go to music school and become a cellist. Sorry, no marriage for me, thanks.
"I- -I- -" I stammer.
//FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YAMI, WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!//
"Aw, she's blown away!" Millerna says stupidly, grinning. Mentally, I begin cursing Yami with all that I have. When I'm done with that, I go on elaborating quite colorfully what I'm going to do to him later.
"So, it's settled, then?" Mrs. Wearvolphe says triumphantly, smiling evilly at me. I suppose a corpulent soul such as herself longed to have a slave to carry out her every whim.
Sorry. . .
Somehow I find my voice. It's all so sudden. After all. . .a moment ago I had not been engaged to a nineteen year-old with thirteen-year-old proportions!
"No!"
Dangerous silence as Mrs. Wearvolphe bears her fangs and growls, "What did you just say?"
"I- -uh- -I- -I said. . .uh- -I s-s-said n-no!! I- -uh- -can't- -get married now!"
Oh, great. Tough ol' Celena's gone all wimpy and stuttering.
"Why not?" her fat red lipstick smile becomes strained and there is an air of controlled threat in the little video game arcade.
I blurt out my dreams. "I- -uh- -I wanted to- -uh- -become a cellist- -a musician- -go to college too- -"
She laughs. "Silly girl. Once you're married you'll be doing all the housework- -no time for stupid things like music."
Outrage overwhelms fear and shock for a moment. "I said I wasn't going to marry your son, Mrs. Wearvolphe!! I said I was going to college! And, here's a hot news flash- -no one tells me what to do!! Especially who I'm going to marry!!!"
I shrink back as she glares and Ataru wilts before my eyes. Seriously. He seemed to die, those massive brown eyes going glittery and sad. Tears shine at the tips of those long eyelashes. Hah!! He really was wearing mascara. It's dripping down his cheeks with the tears. Poor boy. Wonder if his mother made him do it?
Oh, god. Not the leaking cow-eyes. Please.
"And why not?" she repeats viciously. I have a sneaking suspicion that she could easily tear me to little pieces with her too-nice-to-be-real fingernails.
"I- -uh- -"
Millerna gasps and looks scandalized as it all sinks in. But this sort of delayed reaction from her is expected.
Frantic and waving my arms like a madwoman, I try to remember the lines from this sort of romantic play as I ward them off for the time being. Let's see. . .I'm past the rambling point. . .oh, I need a magic talisman for She-Devil over here- -let's not forget that!
Jeez. . .was Juliet ever in such a position? Ah, yes! That's it. . .the frightened girl proclaims her love for another. Usually, in vain, but it's worth a try.
"I- -I'm- -uh- -in. . .love with someone else!!" I declare in a shaking voice, and wondering if I would throw up all over cow-eyed Ataru and his satanic mother.
//UP!! NOW!! DAMMIT, YAMI!!!! GET UP!!!!!!//
"Oh?" the smile of Satan is fixed on pleasant killing. Ataru gives a wet, sniffling sob and buries his face in his hands. "Who's the lucky one?"
"Uh, I'm in l-l-love w-w-with-"
//YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!// I send up a final, desperate wail.
//I was FUCKING SLEEPING, you-// he screeches, coloring his speech quite prettily with adjectives as he appears in solid phase, ready to kill me.
"Uh- -wi-with h-h-h-him!!!!"
Hoping he won't kill me later, I yank my Yami closer to me, and smash my mouth onto his.
^_^ Great ending!! Wonder what's gonna happen? God-it's late. That would be why this chapter wasn't so great. ^_^ Now. . .the real question is, should Dilly freeze, run, scream, or kiss her back? ^_^ Hmmm? Thanks again to everyone who's read this attempt at humor!
Wow. . .apologies about how late this chapter was. . .but I had this monster exam and a paper due, and, being the procrastinater that I am. . .
Thank you:
dragontiger: Wow. . .that IS really strange. . .! ^_^ I guess you've got the soundtrack. . .? Unfair!
geniusgirl: . . .really? You thought so? *squeals* Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!!!
Neko-Metallium: ^_^ I'm pleased. But. . .you should know it was an attempt at reverse psychology. Don't strangle me! Please!!
Hello. . .I'm back!! Sorry 4 the delay. . .we had exams and papers due! I'm SO glad 8th grade is nearly over!!
Hikari again: Yes, it is I, the eccentric and VERY crazy DragonSun!!!
Yami: She likes to promote this image. It keeps the real psychos away from her.
DS: *deliberate and twitching stare* Then how come you aren't goin' anywhere, buster!?
Yami: *starry-eyed* Wow. . .thanks!
DS: I managed to re-combine myself. . .this stupid thing *gestures at Yami* keeps coming back, though. And now for the DISCLAIMER: I don't own escaflowne. . .ahh. . .ahh. . .ahhhchooo!!!! Stupid recurring dreams about snow. . . ^_^ *tired smile* Ah, yes. . . strange dreams about wrestling cute anime boys in snow. They always win. Bah, I'm so weak.
On to chapter threeeeeeechoo! I *snuffle* guess. . .*sniff*
Chapter III Mirror, Mirror (A/N: No, this does not happen to me. Not yet.)
You know when you wake up sometimes, it doesn't feel like you're really there? So you get in front of the mirror and go "Wow" because you didn't expect to see your ugly mug staring back at you, right? And then you give yourself a pinch, just to check if you're still dreaming or not. Sound slightly familiar? I don't blame you if it doesn't.
This sort of thing happens to me often. I've generally given up pinching myself because I'm so numb I don't feel it. A slight squeeze to the pendant and the irate howl of a disturbed Yami proves that I'm still physically living in this dimensional plain-physically. I don't have a clue where my mind has gone.
I got up like that this morning. Yami, of course, blew up into a louder string of oaths than usual, but maybe he didn't get enough sleep last night. He and his Gaean buddies were throwing a loud bash in the corner of my mind. It's safe to say I didn't get enough sleep last night, either. You even have a clue of how difficult it is to sleep when you can clearly hear almost everything they're yelling and laughing about? Not just the volume of it, too. The content of their in-ter-est-ing conversations is definitely in-ter-est-ing enough to keep anyone awake for five or six hours.
I don't mind that. It's almost fun to listen in, because they can't do anything about it. Hell, if I could do something about it, I would. It's been long enough since I got a good night's rest. The only thing I mind is when Dilly refers to me with some very abusive terms. At that point I give the pendant a squeeze. It's also funny when he yells in pain, because his buddies all stop laughing and talking and stare at him, and then there's a dead silence while he tries to explain that I don't like being called so-and-so. Most of these terms are more rude than the F-word you see me write so often.
I'm not known for having these problems. I'm sweet Celena Schezar, A student, thoughtful, quiet. No, I am not a pansy-picking little Girl Scout. Mention those terms to my face and they'll never find your body. And if you're bigger than I am, I'll get my Yami to kill you. Either way, it all works out. For me, I mean. Maybe not for you. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Celena Schezar is taking a stand, cursing, and perhaps even being violent.
I was hoping today Yami wouldn't howl. Then I would still be dreaming. Because today is truly the end of the world. No, the universe.
I have to go to the mall.
To hang out with. . .with. . .Millerna.
And go shopping. Do "Girl" things. Like talking about boys. Who's cute. Who's popular. Who still plays with Barbies. The big Picture. Allen. My crushes. Marriage. Proposal. Engagement. And God forbid. . .children.
Yami loves this. He loves to see me suffering. Bastard. He won't be laughing so hard after an afternoon with this banshee. He'll be cursing. Screaming. Begging for release from torture.
Yeah. That sort of thing. Not to mention I have an exam next week and also I need to apologize to the orchestra instructor and find some way to salvage my position in the orchestra. And find a way not to be expelled. All without Allen knowing.
It's all your stupid fault, Yami.
//I'm very sorry.// He doesn't mean a word of it. But I suppose that's obvious. To anyone. After all, Yami is naturally sarcastic and deep-down cynical, and no, you can't push forward the image that he's a true "Nature-Lover" at heart, because he just isn't. He likes to burn things, torture things, and watch anything living die. Exactly how morbid is that?
When Dilly gets depressed it's another story. He just mopes around in his little blue mood, doing nothing, saying nothing. Doesn't sulk, doesn't yell, doesn't complain. Doesn't scream for more fire and for things to burn. You really have to be depressed if you're a pyro, true blue (or red) and never fail, and you don't even want to think about or play with fire. Or burn someone.
I never could understand evil alter egos entrapped in pendants from Egypt.
III
Allen was going to drive me to the mall-to look after me until she came, he said, but I know it was really because he wanted to have a little snuggle with Milly-hime until he had to leave-but I told him it was okay, and I took the subway instead. We would go to the arcade afterward. Then I would go home.
In one piece.
Alive.
Hopefully.
Remember that couple in the park? I've been thinking a lot about them. Dilly's been interrupting, of course. Now he's starting to tease. I can return fire, of course. I'm not as weak and defenseless as you may have thought. I have taken lessons in karate. I can flip people. But that's about it. . .
Now that I've thought about them for a long time, I'm starting to realize just who they were. I don't see these people a lot, but I looked in an old year book and found them.
Van and Hitomi. Cute, huh? We'd always said they'd end up together somehow. When we were younger-when Van lived in downtown Fanelia and came up to visit every now and then. Hitomi had a crush on Allen, and Allen liked Hitomi a bit, but in the end Van won her over. I like Van. I think he's smart. And not bad-looking. It's almost too bad he's taken. But. . .Hitomi and Van. . .go together. Like. . .uh. . .peanut butter and jelly.
//That the best example you can come up with, aibou?// Dilly taunts. //Honestly, I was expecting better from you. . .//
A moment later, his angry scream is resounding through my mind.
//WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR, YOU STUPID BITCH!?!??!//
//Language, language. . .// I chide. Dilandau can't stand Van. Oh-I forgot to mention that both Hitomi and Van know about my. . .er. . ."problem." I think Dilly's jealous.
As revenge however, Dilly had a bit of a hand in my attire for the day. He'd stolen a shirt from somewhere that said "I used to be schizophrenic, but we're okay now."
I had to laugh at that. People don't know how true it really is.
III
To illustrate my point about how being near Millerna is torturous- let's give this example. She flirts with absolutely every single damn guy in sight. Even the really old people. Gods. And then when they're getting all excited that this great-looking blonde bombshell wants to go out with them, she says, "It's just too bad that I'm already taken!"
I can't stand it. Allen doesn't mind, of course. I don't mind that part, either-it's after she's done that she points to me and says "but Celena's single, isn't she cute?" And then I'll have seventy-year-olds looking at me and drooling.
It's sickening.
You've got to wonder exactly what the world's come to. Evil alter egos in pendants and lewd prehistoric people who leer at fifteen-year-olds.
One has to admit, however-Millerna does have talent. Who else would be able to send senile oldies salivating after her? Not me. Not Hitomi. And definitely not Dilandau. Well. . .old people give me the creeps. Hitomi's not a slut. And Dilandau. . .
//I don't know about that. . .// Dilly chuckles-making me wonder, exactly who did Dilly dig?
//No one you'd be able to understand, oh dearest aibou,// he adds condescendingly.
//I suppose you don't like blondes?// I say, in both questioning and pleading tones.
//That, aibou, is for me to know and for you to never find out,// Yami says. He's grinning at me. Grrr.
Yami grins wider and sends a ferocious roar at me. I cover my ears and yelp, "Dammit, Yami!!"
And of course, I shout this aloud for the entire world to hear. After all, if I did everything right, would this story be interesting? No!
And all the stupid people on the stupid subway turn and look at me. Dilandau cackles with glee. I put my hand up to my left ear like I'm talking into a phone.
"No, Yami, I said I didn't want white roses!"
They're still staring. So that explanation isn't good enough for them?
"What?! You what?! The cops are after you!? No, Yami. I'm not going to bail you out this time. Look, will you listen to me!? I told you before that if you robbed another flower shop I wasn't going to help you!! No, I don't care if you forgot your wallet!! Yami, that's no excuse to rob the damned shop!!! No, not even if you love me!!! I'm freakin' allergic!!!!"
Satisfied, they all go back to their own little lives.
//Very clever,// Dilandau murmurs admiringly.
//It's all your fault, you know?!// I shoot back with much vengeance. And the pendant gets a very nasty pinch, of course.
He yells in pained surprise. Like he actually thought I wasn't going to do it.
Sucker. I'm not as weak or timid as he thinks.
//Yeah, right.//
And for that little interlude, he gets another pinch. But by now I'm feeling sorry for him, so I stop.
//Weakling,// he whispers, but he's being careful. . .
III
Ah, fresh air. I look out the window at the sidewalk two stories below me. Why don't we jump. . .?
//No, aibou,// Dilandau says forcefully. He jerks me backwards with his mind and I'm frozen momentarily as he starts his lecture.
Only he doesn't lecture.
//If you died, aibou, there wouldn't be much left for me to do,// he says calmly. My Yami. Calmly. Usually, those two words never come near each other in a sentence. In fact, calmly + Dilly = Screaming Celena chasing her Yami around with a frying pan. //It's my duty to keep you from destroying us. Think of it as a double-sided self-preservation act. Besides,// he adds, with a more Dilly-like malicious chuckle, //it wouldn't be half as fun teasing you if you died, ne, aibou?//
He has my hands in his while he's talking to me. And holding them very gently.
Yami. Gently. Uh-uh. No can do.
I'm suddenly struck by how many times I've ended up like this with Yami in the past few weeks. First, when he was drunk. Second, the dreaded lunch. Third, the playground. And now. . .
At the mall.
//Yami. . .please. . .//
//Huh?// he looks away like he'd been burned-ironic, but that's exactly how he did it. Like he'd been burned. He drops my hands a moment later, after he realizes he's still holding them.
//Uh. . .never mind.//
Dilly cackles just then, making a quick, quick recovery. Even I'm surprised at the rate he can swap masks and emotions.
//So, then,// he says, //when I want you to die, I'll do it myself. Got it?//
//No robbing flowershops.//
He pouts. //Can I burn the flowershops?//
//No.//
//Steal all the flowers and then burn them?//
//No.//
//Kill everyone and then--//
//I said no, Yami.//
"HEY!!! CELENA!!! ANYBODY IN THERE!?!?!?"
Ye Gods. She's found me. I had been hiding behind a rack of men's leather jackets-which Dilly had threatened to burn, but that was a while ago. No, this can't be happening. Ye Gods, what lungs, what voice. . .!
Millerna in all her smiling fashion and shrill giggles. The Godzilla of my nightmares. Oh god. Oh god, oh god. I do my best to grin and say, in a strangled sort of voice. . .
"Hi, Milly!! What sort of outfit have you found now?!"
Dilandau sniggers. I squeeze the pendant and continue smiling brightly, even though my grin is starting to fade. I make no effort to keep it there, and Dilly's sour yowl isn't helping at all.
She holds up pink suit that's barely skimpy enough to cover anything. I gulp.
"Y-you w-want m-m-me to p-p-put th-that on?" I quaver, pointing at it with a shaking finger.
"No, silly girl. I'm going to put it on. You're going to wear this." With her other hand, she yanks out a thick blue belt of some sort. Which sounds okay, until I realize that it isn't a belt, but a microscopic mini-skirt.
I can't take it anymore-I bolt. It's the skirt or my life-I'll take my life, no matter how twisted. Gods help me. Help! Run or die of humiliation.
"No, wait!" she grabs my arm. Yami sends out an indignant howl of rage. It takes an effort for me to bring myself to stop him. I mean. . .for once, I don't care if he attacks Millerna. Yami can't stand it if anyone hurts me. It's kind of sweet, if not a sort of attractive factor. But it gets annoying sometimes. Well. . .he can't stand it if anyone *else* hurts me. If *he* hurts me, in his definition, it's funny.
"Heh," I laugh nervously. Gods, don't tell me I actually have to get into that thing.
"I brought someone that you should meet! You know-I thought that maybe you might want a-um-well-please, Celena, just put it on!!"
"Can I pick my own shirt, then?" I ask, in a desperate attempt to ensure the covering of my derrière.
"Sure," she says, waving around at least sixteen twenty dollar bills. Mr. Aston is loaded. As a result, his daughters are also loaded. It's logical, ne?
I run to the Yu-Gi-Oh! section of the store and snatch up the largest size I can find. Thank the gods. It goes to mid-thigh and makes up for the almost non-existent miniskirt. Millerna gives it a look of utmost disgust.
"Celena, they won't be able to see your legs!"
"That's the point," I mutter, sending her the ugliest of death-glares when her back is turned. Thank you, Gundam Wing.
"See, that one over there is much better!" she gestures at midriff revealing tank top-also pink.
"I get cold easily," I say quickly, searching for excuses. "Uh. . .you wouldn't want me blue in the face, now would you?"
"It would be an interesting effect!" she sulks, but pays for the miniskirt and shirt, and her own tiny suit.
"Could I ask who we're meeting?"
"Just a few friends," she says. But she gives me an odd look, and she said it much too quickly. . .
Dilandau seems to have gone to sleep again. He needs a lot of sleep, and a hell of a lot of sugar to keep his usual hyperactive self alive. He sleeps light, though. Once again-thank the gods. I think.
"Uh. . ."
Once inside the bathrooms, Millerna lets me use her nail-file to sand the tags down until they break. Grumbling mentally as I file the plastic, I listen to Dilandau's unlikely but peaceful silence. Too soon the line snaps. Too soon I pull the overlarge shirt over my head, blessing its hugeness. Too soon I yank on the little mini.
Too soon the stall door opens.
She claps her hands. "Oh, you look great!! Hitch that shirt up a bit, okay? We can't even see the skirt!"
//It doesn't deserve to be called a skirt, dammit.//
More silence from the Yami side. Oh well. Not like he'd be enjoying this. But I'd be enjoying seeing him yelling.
Smirk time. "So. . .who are we meeting, again?"
Millerna begins babbling. "Uh, Celena, it's a friend of mine we're meeting, uh, his name is Ataru and he's really very cute and I'm sure you'd like him because I thought you might and after all Allen said it was okay and then maybe you two would like each other and then well since we're going to go and see him and then Allen-"
"Huh?" I say blankly, my face wiped like a recently cleaned plate.
"-Oh, Celena," she says, waving her hands helplessly through the constraining pink jumpsuit, "Allen and I found you a fiancé!!"
Oh. Dear. God. In. Heaven!
"WHAT?!!!?" I explode.
Slowly, the shock settles and my mind unsticks itself.
"You. . .uh. . .got me a fiancé?" I say, in tones too calm to be good, even for me. "As in. . .arranged marriage sort of thing?"
"Celena. . .Allen and I are probably going to get married once we graduate from college. . ."
". . .And you wanted me out of the way."
"Sort of."
She drags me out of the bathroom as I wonder if screaming will help to complicate matters further.
There're two people waiting inside the video arcade-which is where Millerna drags me, by the way. A tall-uh, let's say--*very* well built woman waiting with a delicate boy who looks around thirteen.
He doesn't speak, instead, stares at me with these HUGE, limpid, cow- like eyes. I mean HUGE eyes.
"God. . ."
"What's that?" the woman demands aggressively. She's running an eye over my strange attire and giving me what I would deem to be her sinister version of The Evil Eye. Not my fault. Blame it on my brother's slutty girl-friend. This woman has piggy little eyes, unlike her son- -hard and cold an somewhat cheap. Like she picked them up off a garage sale after beating down their owner price by price- -perhaps literally. I wonder how much her parents had to pay her husband to marry her? I notice she's wearing too much makeup. And someone forgot their shoes in the bathroom. . .
Me.
We sit down at a booth and order some French fries. Millerna is happily humming 'Itsy-Bitsy-Spider' to the boy, who looks exactly how I feel right now- -
Completely freaked out.
"Hello, Miss. . .and your brother. . ."
"Wearvolphe," she answers, obviously pleased I "mistook" her for a Miss. "Irmgard Wearvolphe. And this is my son, Ataru Wearvolphe."
And I thought Mr. Aston was Satan.
III
So Yami snores while I don't even try to pretend I like this kid Ataru. Who's actually nineteen, by the way. He's just small for his age.
Whatever.
This is seriously a violation of 1st amendment rights. But then- -I remember- -this story isn't set in America. It's in Japan, and Allen is technically my legal guardian.
Damn.
//YAMI!!!!//
No answer.
//YAAAAAAMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!//
Still no answer.
I think about the time Dilandau tripped and landed on top of me. I thought his song was cute. And, as I said before, he was comfy. When he woke up with his head in my lap, all he did was smile this lopsided, goofy smile and bat, much like a little kitten with fire amber eyes, at the pendant.
He's like a kitten in a lot of ways, my Yami. While he doesn't look it, he can be very gentle with things. In fact- -
". . .so. . .what do you think?"
And Mrs. Wearvolphe has been relating how we're going to get married. Not me with her, mind. Her son and me. He's just staring at me with a sort of liquid happiness.
I stare back with a sort of blank I'm-not-really-here-plus-I'm-mental- and-have-an-evil-alter-ego-who-wants-to-destroy-the-world-ness.
"I. . .I. . ." frantic, I look around for some sort of savior. This is the god damn twenty-first century!! People. Don't. Have. Arranged. Marriages!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Ataru gives me this simpering I-love-you smile. And his cow-eyes are still bright and just WAY too big for it to be right. I even think he has mascara on, come to think of it. I mean. . .no one's eyelashes can naturally be that thick. Fake eyelashes, maybe?
Oh, god. Why am I thinking of everything else but what's important!? He blinks and the fake/real/I'm not sure eyelashes move up and down, fluttering happily as he clasps his hands.
I don't marry the same gender. I just want to make it clear that I am one hundred percent straight. So. . .this "marriage"- -not happening.
"Well. . .? You'll be married as soon as Ataru can finish college and you graduate from high school."
No, no. You've got it all wrong. I was going to go to music school and become a cellist. Sorry, no marriage for me, thanks.
"I- -I- -" I stammer.
//FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, YAMI, WAKE UP!!!!!!!!!!!//
"Aw, she's blown away!" Millerna says stupidly, grinning. Mentally, I begin cursing Yami with all that I have. When I'm done with that, I go on elaborating quite colorfully what I'm going to do to him later.
"So, it's settled, then?" Mrs. Wearvolphe says triumphantly, smiling evilly at me. I suppose a corpulent soul such as herself longed to have a slave to carry out her every whim.
Sorry. . .
Somehow I find my voice. It's all so sudden. After all. . .a moment ago I had not been engaged to a nineteen year-old with thirteen-year-old proportions!
"No!"
Dangerous silence as Mrs. Wearvolphe bears her fangs and growls, "What did you just say?"
"I- -uh- -I- -I said. . .uh- -I s-s-said n-no!! I- -uh- -can't- -get married now!"
Oh, great. Tough ol' Celena's gone all wimpy and stuttering.
"Why not?" her fat red lipstick smile becomes strained and there is an air of controlled threat in the little video game arcade.
I blurt out my dreams. "I- -uh- -I wanted to- -uh- -become a cellist- -a musician- -go to college too- -"
She laughs. "Silly girl. Once you're married you'll be doing all the housework- -no time for stupid things like music."
Outrage overwhelms fear and shock for a moment. "I said I wasn't going to marry your son, Mrs. Wearvolphe!! I said I was going to college! And, here's a hot news flash- -no one tells me what to do!! Especially who I'm going to marry!!!"
I shrink back as she glares and Ataru wilts before my eyes. Seriously. He seemed to die, those massive brown eyes going glittery and sad. Tears shine at the tips of those long eyelashes. Hah!! He really was wearing mascara. It's dripping down his cheeks with the tears. Poor boy. Wonder if his mother made him do it?
Oh, god. Not the leaking cow-eyes. Please.
"And why not?" she repeats viciously. I have a sneaking suspicion that she could easily tear me to little pieces with her too-nice-to-be-real fingernails.
"I- -uh- -"
Millerna gasps and looks scandalized as it all sinks in. But this sort of delayed reaction from her is expected.
Frantic and waving my arms like a madwoman, I try to remember the lines from this sort of romantic play as I ward them off for the time being. Let's see. . .I'm past the rambling point. . .oh, I need a magic talisman for She-Devil over here- -let's not forget that!
Jeez. . .was Juliet ever in such a position? Ah, yes! That's it. . .the frightened girl proclaims her love for another. Usually, in vain, but it's worth a try.
"I- -I'm- -uh- -in. . .love with someone else!!" I declare in a shaking voice, and wondering if I would throw up all over cow-eyed Ataru and his satanic mother.
//UP!! NOW!! DAMMIT, YAMI!!!! GET UP!!!!!!//
"Oh?" the smile of Satan is fixed on pleasant killing. Ataru gives a wet, sniffling sob and buries his face in his hands. "Who's the lucky one?"
"Uh, I'm in l-l-love w-w-with-"
//YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!// I send up a final, desperate wail.
//I was FUCKING SLEEPING, you-// he screeches, coloring his speech quite prettily with adjectives as he appears in solid phase, ready to kill me.
"Uh- -wi-with h-h-h-him!!!!"
Hoping he won't kill me later, I yank my Yami closer to me, and smash my mouth onto his.
^_^ Great ending!! Wonder what's gonna happen? God-it's late. That would be why this chapter wasn't so great. ^_^ Now. . .the real question is, should Dilly freeze, run, scream, or kiss her back? ^_^ Hmmm? Thanks again to everyone who's read this attempt at humor!
