Next instalment! Do me a favour and enjoy yourself. ^_^
December Owl Morning: Yeah, I used to like Kogure before I realised he is pretty much a wuss. So I turned my attention to Rukawa, he he he. Sakuragi fic? I can't say. We'll see. ^_^
Gianhui: Thank you!
Akane1: I haven't had any experience with a schizophrenic so I wouldn't know how hard it is, but it does seem to be tough, ne? Am updating! Thanks for reading and reviewing!
Teh tarik: Thanks! Am updating (quicker than before, if anyone hasn't noticed) ^_-
Mak: We'll see about RyoAya! Read on, Mak! (if you're Malaysian, you'd know Mak is a nickname for Mother. Who's mother are you? :P)
Libra_gal: Thanks, libra-san! I appreciate you reading this!
Patty g: Rukawa-kun is away with the National Basketball Team. Come on… does he seem to be the type who visits people? *nothingtodo shakes head vigorously* Hope you like this chappie!
Crazy4u: Thank you. ^_^ I haven't given a thought to Kara's past, to tell you the truth. '-_- Hopefully it'll come to me!
Li Kasumi: Your new nickname's nice! I know what you mean about inspiration. J Nah, I can't be any better than you are. Us writers are equally talented in different ways, no? *nothingtodo imagines herself as 'talented'* *everybody else starts choking on vegetables*
Maemi: Hey! Long time no hear from you too! I'm surprised at the serious-ness of this story too. But you just gotta go with the flow of your brain, right? You had an entire class on schizophrenia? Good, that means I can refer to you if I ever get stuck on the disease! He he he… Thanks for reading!
"How is it going?" Kogure asked a week later as he took off his shoes and stepped into his apartment.
Ayako, wrapped in an apron, lifted a ladle at him. "You, kind sir, are going to get the best meal you'll ever taste in your short life."
"Twenty-eight years aren't very short."
"Compared to my grandmother who is 94, it is." Ayako winked. "Go ahead and say hello to Kara. She's in the kitchen, watching the cake we're baking expand in the oven." Then her eyes sobered. "By the way, it happened again this afternoon."
Kogure pursed his lips. "I see. Did you give her some tranquilizers?"
"I did."
"Okay."
"It's horrible to watch," Ayako sighed, "I don't know what it is that she hears in her head, but to see her squirming on the floor, clutching her head and screaming is pure torture. I can see her trying to gain control, to stop herself from going berserk. She's fighting against the sickness, but she's not doing very well." A surprising tear rolled down Ayako's cheek, and she hastily wiped it away. "Sorry. Well, go ahead now. Say hello to her. She's probably missing you."
Kogure turned slightly red.
Ayako grinned. "I can see a love affair starting between the two of you."
"Maybe you need to get spectacles."
Ayako laughed.
Kogure stepped into his kitchen to find all sorts of smell wafting in the air. Kara was perched on a wooden stool, studiously reading the recipe and monitoring the cake's progress. "Smells good," he told her.
She swivelled around in surprise and then smiled at him. "It'll taste even better."
Kogure peered into the oven. "I bet." Then he turned to look at her. "You okay?"
She looked back uncomfortably at the recipe book. "Yes."
Kogure didn't say anything, and they watched the cake together for quite some time until Ayako came back, announcing she'd just called the other guys to come for dinner.
Kara stared at herself in the mirror as she changed. Kogure's friends would be arriving in a few minutes for the free food. No, she corrected herself, my friends. They're my friends now.
Are they?
Kara saw her eyes widen. It was happening again. The same voice that had haunted her since her teens. Go away.
You really think they like you? You think they don't know what's wrong with you?
Go away.
They're scared of you, and you know it. They're only acting friendly for Kogure's sake.
Kara shook her head, saw her face frown in the mirror. No, that's not true. Stop it.
What do you know? You know nothing. You're not normal.
Kara pressed her hands on either side of the head. She knew if she could, she would've kept on pressing till her head was crushed and the voice was gone. No! No! Stop it!
And then it was gone.
And Kara saw in her mirror that Kogure was standing there in her doorframe looking at her. She whirled around, quickly dropping her hands to her side. "Kogure!"
It was obvious he'd figured out what had happened, but he smiled at her. "Everybody's here. Come on out. Haruko's here too, and she wants to meet you."
Her breathing was slightly unsteady and she noticed the concerned look on Kogure's face and felt guilty for it. "I'll be there," she said quickly. "Just give me a few minutes."
He lingered there, and with a reluctant look, closed the door again. Kara listened as his footsteps faded and she took a deep breath. Then she steeled herself and went out.
"Hey there, Kara!" Miyagi called out loudly over his half-eaten piece of cake. "It's very delicious! But of course, with Ayako as a teacher, it's no surprise, is it?"
She smiled at him, understanding now his ages long affection for Ayako. "You can ask her to teach you if you want," she suggested.
Mitsui laughed out loud. "More likely he'll spend most of his time looking at Ayako and burning his fingers and receiving those endless paper fan whacks!"
"I can cook!" Miyagi said with dignity.
Sakuragi snorted as he took a third helping. "Tell that to the chicken you burned just last night."
"It wasn't a chicken, you baboon. It was a duck!"
"Duck or chicken, it was still soot black, wasn't it? Now if I had cooked it, it would've turned a golden brown."
"You??" Miyagi said incredulously. "You don't even know how to flip a pancake!"
"Haruko, would you cook for me one day?"
"Sakuragi! I'm talking to you!"
Kara watched in amusement, laughing with the rest over the usual bickering. She settled herself beside Kogure, and as she added more rice to his bowl without being asked, she caught him studying her thoughtfully. She didn't have to look to know that Ayako was doing the same.
She put more rice in her own bowl and suppressed a sigh. She was a constant worry to Kogure, that she knew. She'd come to him uninvited, unexpected, and had intruded his life so abruptly and so rudely, and yet he'd taken it, though with some surprise at first, in his stride. He wordlessly gave his bedroom to her, made no mention to the fact that he'd stretched his money to accommodate her needs, often neglecting his own, and never complained when she'd thrown things and broke them during one of her many fits and outbreaks.
She'd already broken three plates and thrashed a cupboard, and all he did was clean the mess up and tend to her bruises.
He didn't deserve any of those, Kara thought quietly. She was nothing but trouble.
Nothing but trouble.
Kara's hand started to tremble. Oh God, no, no, please, not now.
Some people would have thrown you out of their houses. You're scary and you're dangerous.
Kara bit her lip. I can't help it. It's not my fault.
Tell that to Kogure. You see the fresh scar on his neck? You did that, remember? You broke one of his plates and tried to slash him, remember?
I didn't mean to. I never wanted to.
But you did it.
Her chopsticks dropped to her lap. Stop it! Go away! I hate you!
You did it.
"Kara? Kara??" Kogure's voice sounded far away, but Kara could see through her hazy vision that he was leaning in her direction. Behind him, Mitsui and Miyagi were pale.
"What's the matter with her? What's happening?"
The voices sounded so far away. Only the voice in her head was clear.
You're scary. You're dangerous. You harm people.
I don't! I don't do that! Leave me alone!
Look at the glass there, Kara. Look at it. It looks like those disgusting glasses in the hospital, doesn't it? Look at the glass.
Kara's hand reached out and grabbed the glass. Next thing she knew, she was hurling it towards the wall. "STOP IT! STOP IT!" she screamed to herself.
Look at the curtains, Kara. Didn't your mother love curtains? She loved curtains, didn't she? More than she loved you.
"NO! STOP IT! I HATE YOU!!" Kara felt herself reaching now for the curtains, but someone was holding her back. "GO AWAY!"
Where's your mother, Kara? Where's your mother?
"Get some tranquilizer!"
"Hold her steady!"
"Kara? Kara? Look at me! Look at me!"
Where's your father, Kara? Where's your father?
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!"
Where are you, Kara? Who are you?
Kara felt something sharp prick her arm. Her body grew stiff, her vision dimmed. Stop it, please, stop it.
Everything was turning black. Kara no longer heard anything, except one -
Why are you alive, Kara?
And then she passed out.
When she woke up, she found herself in her bed. It was 3 a.m. in the morning. Her head throbbed and she dimly recalled what she'd done. Pushing herself up, she went out of the bedroom and into the living room.
Everything was quiet now. Everybody had gone home.
The room had been cleaned up too. Not a single piece of broken glass remained, and near the television, Kogure's blankets were laid out but empty. She silently tiptoed to the kitchen and saw him sitting near the counter, his hands holding his head with a bottle of aspirin next to him.
Fatigue was written all over him, and he seemed frail and thin somehow. His briefcase was open, and some papers were peeking out. Then, eventually, Kogure let out a soft moan and lifted his head up. He drained a whole cup of coffee, rubbed his eyes and reached for a pen and a calculator to get to work on his accounts, but then he saw Kara and turned to her with a smile. "Trouble sleeping?"
Kara remained half-hidden by the wall, but she looked at him. "I didn't mean to."
He didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. "It was no big deal," he shrugged. "It was a gift from Sakuragi and horribly ugly even for a simple glass anyway. I've been looking for ways to get rid of it without insulting him. Why don't you sit down and I'll make you some tea?"
Kara stayed where she was, feeling horribly undeserving and worthless. Why was he being so gentle? Why was he trying so hard to make things look normal when they clearly weren't? And why was he putting up with her?
Why couldn't she control herself? Why did she always listen to the voice in her head? Why was she so weak? How long will it go on? What other harm will she continue to inflict on others?
"Kara." Kogure had left the counter and now stood in front of her. "Go get some sleep. Things will be all right in the morning."
Kara looked up at him. "I'm … I'm sorry."
He smiled weakly and reached out to massage her shoulders. "Forget about it," he advised, "It wasn't your fault. No one's blaming you." He smoothed her hair that fell over her forehead away and leaned down to kiss it.
Kara felt his lips brush her brow, and wondered, as her heart sank, if it was selfish of her to fall in love with him and expect it to be returned. After all she'd cost him; did she even deserve it?
What did crazy people know about love, anyway?
"Now go back to bed and sleep." He was already nudging her away. "I'll wake you up tomorrow."
Kara nodded and turned to leave. She'd taken a few steps forward, but then she stopped and walked back to the kitchen.
Kogure was back at the counter, already immersed in his work and calculations. His fingers punched the buttons on the calculator speedily and his pen dragged over the paper.
Kara watched him silently. Now that she was out of sight, Kogure had dropped his smile, and his face was pale with exhaustion, the bags under his eyes evident in the harsh kitchen light.
She wouldn't make him worry anymore, Kara promised herself desperately. She wouldn't cause him any more misery and unhappiness. She'd try her best to recover, to be normal again.
Can you? Can you really?
