Lessons Well Learned

By Violet Ice

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Saturdays, when spent alone, have potential to drag on and on.

Kamatari rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. He had disappeared into the room the previous night and had not come out since. It was better that way, if he stayed out of his father's sight, and he knew it. He was pining away over Miru and his father would be bound to make comments about it. He didn't want to stay in his room; didn't want to stare at that garish blue ceiling with the fluffy white clouds panted on it, glow-in-the-dark stars stuck here and there.

But it would be better that way.

Closing his eyes, he could vividly recall the events of the day prior to this miserable Saturday. After he and Aoshi had parted ways, he'd gone to the bathroom to wash his face. Staring into the washroom mirror, he had seen the most pathetic, broken creature he ever laid eyes on. Soft brown eyes, wet with crying, a worn, drawn expression, short, dull hair framing it all, and he had wondered: Is that really what I've become? Was there a time only this morning when I was smiling?

Music lessons that afternoon had been torture. The choir instructor had long since realized that she had talented people to work with when she'd come across Miru, his fingers traipsing along the piano keys, while Kamatari sang along. Nothing less than threats got Miru into that room every afternoon for the spring of the previous semester, but once he realized people wouldn't think any less of him for playing the piano and that he was "naturally talented," he began to enjoy the lessons.

That afternoon -that terrible afternoon- the teacher had requested their piano rendition of a song called "Take it Back," which they had practiced only a few times. Miru had simply cracked his knuckles, slid smoothly onto the bench and began another effortless performance while Kamatari stood motionless, not able to open his mouth and sing for fear of crying.

Miru had looked over his shoulder at him, locks of his hair falling around his face, that dangerous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was moments like that which made Kamatari feel disarmed and helpless and he shivered slightly, fiddling with his bracelet. "What's the matter, hot stuff? Cat got your tongue?" Miru teased.

The poor transvestite's mind whirled. Miru's words, the teacher's telling him to begin, the words to the song -So I spy on her, I lie to her, I make promises I cannot keep / Then I hear the laughter rising, rising from the deep / And I make her prove her love for me, I take all that I can take / And I push her to the limit to see if she will break- they were all overpowering him as Miru plunked out the tune, chanting out the lyrics in a melodramatic sort of way.

"I can't. I can't; I'm sorry. I can't sing today…" He whispered, eyes lowering to the floor, "Please don't make me. I wouldn't be very good." He couldn't look at the instructor, couldn't look at Miru, couldn't look at anything. He knew if he looked up, he would burst into tears and he didn't want to cause a scene. "Excuse me."

And I left; just like that…The ceiling came into focus again as his eyes slid open. I left, and then I blew Miru off after school and just came home to cry more. I couldn't even talk to him and find out if it's true. God, I'm pathetic.

He heard the door opening, but didn't bother to move at all. "Kamatari?" His mother's voice drifted into the room, soft and full of concern. He could see her in his mind's eye, dressed in faded jeans and a plain shirt, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. They had the same brown eyes, the same thin hair and the same expression when they were sad. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine." He replied quietly. A CD full of instrumental pieces played softly, filling the room with an empty sort of feeling. Marooned. The name of that particular piece. Marooned; verb: To abandon or isolate with little hope of ready rescue or escape. Marooned. The way he felt.

"Are you sure? Did something happen at school yesterday?" He felt the high bed shift as she leaned against it, one hand resting on his shoulder. "You seemed out of sorts when you came home. I know I was busy with your brother and didn't get a chance to talk to you, but-"

"I'm fine." He repeated dully, trying to shrug off her hand.

"Something happened. Were people picking on you?"

"No…"

"Did you get in a fight with Miru?"

Miru. Just the mention of his name brought tears to the boy's eyes. "No." He choked out, rolling over to his side and curling up into a little ball. He hugged his pillow, wishing he was anywhere but there, almost preferring his dad's yelling over his mom's sympathy.

"Then what did happen, honey?"

Silence.

He stared at the wall, willing himself not to cry. It didn't work. Tears spilled forth anyway, no matter how much he told himself to be strong. "Mama…Why…Why does it…why do I have to be like this? Why can't I be normal? Why couldn't I have been born a girl? Why?" He sniffled, clutching the pillow up to his chest as the strains of Terminal Frost waltzed out of his CD player.

"What did Miru do?"

"He didn't do anything, Mom! Stop accusing him of things." He curled tighter around the pillow, trying to block out her unwanted attention, to show her she wasn't welcome.

"Kamatari, do not use that tone with me." She reprimanded him, her voice soft yet firm at the same time. "I was not pleased with you when you told your father and I how you felt about yourself, but I've loved you and respected you in spite of it. I'm happy that you've found some one who loves you for who you are, but I will sure as hell be unhappy if he ever does anything to hurt you. Even if I don't understand you, I will always fight for you. You are and always will be my only biological child. Now tell me why you're keeping yourself hidden away in here."

Sighing wearily, he sat up, pillow still clutched in his arms. "All right…"

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Miru didn't know what to do with himself.

Since the previous April, he couldn't remember spending a single Saturday alone. He was always with Kamatari; whether they were in the den, at the mall, the movies, the park or anywhere else. There had been days, of course, where Kamatari was unavailable, but he couldn't remember any…

He wandered around the house restlessly, trying to find a way to keep himself occupied and keep his mind from wandering back to thoughts of Kamatari.

But his mind wandered anyway.

He'd been waiting for Kamatari by those garbage cans after the final bell rang. Waiting, his foot tapping impatiently on the ground, hoping no one would accost his friend who already seemed to be having a bad day. He wanted to know what had happened and why Kamatari had been unable to sing; it had been eating at him all through his last period class, ever since the other boy went running out of the choir room.

Kamatari was slow in coming, his footsteps hesitant, his eyes trailed on the ground. Miru's brow furrowed as he took in the dejected sight of his significant other. "Hey, what's wrong, Kamatari?" He'd asked seriously.

"Nothing." Came the quiet reply.

"Something." Miru pressed, looking intently at the older boy. He hated seeing Kamatari miserable, hated seeing him confused and lost, but he didn't know what to say. The walls were too high to tear down right there; he just couldn't open up when there was a chance of other people being nearby.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Are you coming over?"

"No…I'm just going home…"

God…Miru flopped down on the couch, Whatever I did, I'm sorry. I know he's mad at me. I know whatever the problem is it's my fault. It has to be, or he wouldn't be ignoring me like this. He ran his fingers through his long hair -which was down loose- and flipped on the television. Might as well do something. Sitting here and worrying about it isn't going to help.

But he sat there and worried anyway.

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Meibi was busy chasing Mitsu around, as usual, that Saturday. Her father and Miru's mother were gone out for the day and -surprise surprise- they had left her in charge of both her brothers.

Mitsu was a holy terror when he knew his mother and father weren't around to punish him. He was a demanding little monster, bossing her around, telling her what he liked and disliked, that she didn't know what she was doing, that she couldn't touch his toys. Then he started asking where Kamatari was, why "she" wasn't there to play with him and telling his sister how much more he liked "her" and how much nicer "she" was.

Meibi was often struggling to keep herself from giving him a good whack.

After finally settling the brat down for his nap, she wandered wearily into the den. There on the faded gray sofa was her brother. The TV was on, but Miru wasn't paying much attention. He seemed to be staring off into space, a contemplative look on his face. She could see a far away look in her stepbrother's eyes and she wondered what was on his mind.

Was he actually worried about Kamatari? Had Aoshi been right? Did he really, truly care about the other boy?

"Miru?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?" He snapped back to reality at the sound of her voice, looking up to take in her face, or what of it was visible under her hair, at least.

"What are you doing? You're just sitting there, staring off into space." She slouched down next to him, pushing back her hair so her emerald eyes burned into his.

"I've got a lot on my mind." He mumbled distractedly, flicking the button on the remote so the channel changed again even though he wasn't looking at the TV.

"Why isn't Kamatari here?" She knew she was pushing her luck asking this, but she was curious.

"I don't know." He sounded annoyed, "He's upset about something and I have no clue what it is. He won't talk to me about it and I don't know what the hell to do. You're sure you didn't see him yesterday?"

"Nope."

"Shit…" Miru switched off the TV and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. He began to fiddle with his hair, the pulled it back in its usual loose ponytail. "What the hell am I supposed to do? I can't stand this; knowing I did something to make him hurt." He moaned, drawing his knees up, his feet on the coffee table, "I can never apologize right."

Meibi was quiet for a moment, mulling over this. He sounded sincere. His voice…He sounded so confused and lost. "Do you...love him, Miru?" She asked softly.

"What kind of stupid question is that?" He looked up at her sharply, "Why would you even bother to ask me something like that?"

I knew it! She thought smugly, twining a lock of hair around her finger, He doesn't give a shit!

"…Of course I love him." Miru finished miserably, "Isn't it obvious? Why would you need to ask? And he's hurting because I did something wrong again. I'm such a dick."

"What did you do?" A sinking feeling filled Meibi. What if, by some twist of fate, Kamatari had overheard her the day before? What if he had heard everything she said to Kaoru and believed it? What if…?

"It's none of your business." He looked at her, his face contorting with resentment, "Why do you care about the two of us all of a sudden? You did something to him, didn't you? What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything!" She snapped, making a face back at him. "Whatever he's got going on has nothing to do with me. It's probably because you're such an inconsiderate chauvinist and you don't give a damn about any one but yourself. Maybe he finally realized how self-centered you are and that you don't care."

Miru's eyes, if possible, became even darker and Meibi knew she had overstepped the boundaries. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, black eyes burning into her emerald ones, and she could see the storm in his gaze and her own terrified face reflected in his inky eyes. "Don't you ever say something like that again! I ought to break your face right now…How could you think that, Meibi? Huh? You don't know a damn thing. You see my black eye? You see all those bruises I have all the time? Do ya? Those are all for him. I wouldn't fight like that for anybody else in the world. And shit, you think I don't care about him?"

"Miru, I'm sorry! Let me go! You're hurting me!" She squirmed a little, whimpering. He had his fingers dug into her shoulder; his grip was overpowering. Now she understood why nobody dared to mess with Kamatari when he was around. He had never laid a finger on her until this point in time and she was scared to death.

"Mei! Mei! Mei! Mei!"

At the sound of Mitsu's voice drifting into the room; he tossed her back against the couch. "The kid wants you so get lost." He growled, "And if you ever say anything like that again…You can bet you'll be in a cast for a while." He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Okay heart; resume beating…She sank back against the cushions, her hair falling lightly back over her forehead. You're not dead. He didn't kill you. But hell, if he finds out this is all your fault…

You won't live to see seventeen.