Everything to me was just the world spread out before my eyes. Whatever the past, it became small while shining inside the mirror. The dirty sky... The echoes of the train... The noise of daytime... Everything around becoming a flowing line and flying off.
The remaining white moon... The rays of light brimming over... The sweet shape... of the girls' hands... Everything around becoming a flowing line and breaking off.
At that time I will become the wind. I will become a wind prettier than anyone. I will become a wind stronger than anything.
With my hands on the wheel, stepping on the gas... My chest throbs... The ultra-high-speed world. That is the one space that's just mine.
For me to be me... I cut through the haze of heat. Sweat slowly pours down. Exposed to the light, the world is fully exposed. That is the one space that's just mine. For me to not be me...
High above, the clouds blow about over the vivid aquamarine sea. While I seek after it so much that I feel longing, I still feel like letting go sometimes. The dream I have in my heart... I pursue it so much that it hurts, but I still want to destroy it sometimes. The future I have in my heart... What on earth is it I keep running for? Just how far will I keep running?
The jet disappeared into the setting sun. It soared past, leaving two bold lines in the sky. Like it was searching for an exit, my gasping heart then gave an answer for the first time. If I don't keep running, I won't be able to see anything. If I don't keep running, nothing will end. If I just finish once... If I just get the checkered flag once... At that time I will become the wind. I will become a wind prettier than anyone. I will become a wind stronger than anything.
(Poem: Haruka "Uranus-Neptune-Chibimoon Plus" Translated by Alex Glover, from http://www.sailormusic.net)
*****
No matter how horrific a circumstance, it is possible for one to become accustomed if one has the will to do so. Survival begins internally; if one gives up, then one is lost. Mind over matter, willpower over circumstance…
Adaptation.
As a survivor, Haruka was able to adapt to her new situation, albeit grudgingly. What other alternative was there, other than giving up?
Haruka did not give up.
Following Hoshino's union with her mother, life on the surface remained consistent. Everyday followed the same schedule. Nothing significant happened during this time period.
Of course, beneath the surface, the winds changed direction as life continued on its new path. There was a brief interlude of tranquility, but Haruka could feel the sea retreat.
The prelude to a tsunami?
Hoshino was a slob; he left his filthy underwear lying on the bathroom floor. Hoshino was a pig; he ate the most disgusting, greasy take-out food and always seemed to have a can of beer within his reach. Hoshino was crude; he told dirty jokes and made sexual comments to Kotano in front of her daughter. Hoshino was lazy; he'd either lie around the house or go out clubbing. So why was it that Kotano was so firmly wrapped around his finger?
For the life of her, Haruka could not believe that her mother would fall for such a pitiful man. What was it about Hoshino that her mother found irresistible?
Although Hoshino was not an unattractive man, he was not particularly striking. He was too large and brutish to be considered handsome, his face was disproportioned, and his nose was too large and off centre. Kotano was incredibly superficial; she would only date a man whose looks she deemed exceptional. So what was it about Hoshino than attracted her?
His sexual drive. Hoshino was no great beauty, yet despite his imperfect features, there was something sexually exiting about the man. He possessed a raw sexual drive, crude and barbaric but undeniable. Despite his abrasive personality, his sloppiness and poor hygiene...despite his cruel, harsh looks, there was something sexual about the man. His gaze could be so intense…he'd look at you with his startling ebony eyes, a stare no woman could resist. He'd undress you with his eyes…and you'd like it. He'd make some offensive comment, and you'd laugh, secretly pleased. He'd embrace you to him, thrusting his body against yours… and all restraint would leave you, he'd consume you with reckless passion until you were left completely at his mercy. He'd use you until you had nothing left to give, and he'd hurt you, manipulate you into self-loath. You'd hear his words, see the disgust behind those eyes, and you'd apologise, and then he'd leave. You would be left alone, naked and crying, desperate…and still you would want him. The longing, so intense…despite his cruelty, no, because of his cruelty, you'd want him even more. The longing would be so intense that you'd forgive him all his sins, all his wrongdoings, you'd make excuses; you'd sell your soul for this man. Once you let him into your life, you'd never be able to rid yourself of him. You'd see his face behind your eyelids, your body would long for him, would sting and burn for him… He was the kind of man who made love with his eyes open, a man who never let his control waver. For that was what attracted women to him: his ability to completely envelope you with his presence, his unyielding power over you, and his raw sexual drive.
He was her type. Kotano was the type of woman who always fell for his type of man. A woman easily bored, who was usually the leader of her relationships, Kotano and others like her yearned for a man who would take control. Her type would fall quickly, deeply, in love with this type of man, and be blinded by their masculinity. They would completely devote themselves to their man, to the point of no return. For Hoshino was the type of man to take advantage.
Kotano was usually the lead in her relationships; she never had respect for her beaus. Hoshino was a man who took the reins, a man who made the rules and enforced them. A man who would dominate her, who would make her feel helpless and completely at his mercy, who would thrill her with his possession. A man who was a man. A man who made her feel like a woman.
Kotano saw past his flaws. This was a man who could satisfy her ever constant lust, a man who would leave her begging for more, a man who would leave her breathless. He was a man who could fulfill her greatest needs, a man who would take her and never stop, not even when she begged for mercy. His bad habits, his rages, were secondary to the feelings he awakened deep inside her body; she wanted him despite the consequences.
Kotano was a woman who never learned from her mistakes.
To avoid the constant threat of Hoshino, Haruka spent as little time as possible at home. She left for school at seven thirty every morning, and she returned home at past ten. Generally Haruka was able to evade seeing him, but as he was unemployed, he followed no particular schedule. It was inevitable that they would cross paths.
Their feelings were mutual; neither could stand the other. Haruka thought he was an overbearing asshole, Hoshino thought she was a fucked-up brat. When by chance they did meet, harsh words were exchanged, and a heated argument often followed. Hoshino could not resist the temptation to insult her, and Haruka could not resist the temptation to retaliate. The battles intensified as time went on and resentment grew. Haruka was resentful that he had invaded into her life; Hoshino was resentful that Haruka was the barrier that protested his entry into the family. Kotano struggled for peace, but both were adamant in their hatred; neither would back down. Eventually a truce would be called, but the next time they crossed paths the battle would resume.
So Haruka stayed away from home for longer and longer periods of time. She spent all of her time either at karate, at Kumada's, or just wandering restlessly around the city.
As a result Haruka seldom saw her mother. Because of their lack of communication, Haruka did not notice the changes in her mother's demeanour. She did not notice her mother's steady deterioration.
Haruka was on probation at school; one more violent outburst and she would be expelled. This made it impossible for her to pick fights at school, so she carried out her business elsewhere. Osaka had a population of 8 million, after all; there were bound to be other assholes out there.
There was only one outlet for her frustrations, for her anger, for her fears. Where she could forget, where she could release her pain, where she could let go of all that ailed her. Here, she was safe. Here, she was untouchable. Unbreakable. Unstoppable.
This space was just hers. She could forget anything, she could forget everything, she could forget herself.
The sensation of becoming the wind…
When life got to be too much, when the pressure to fit in, to belong, to please became overbearing and intolerable, then she would run. She'd run until her lungs ached, she'd run until her body screamed, she'd run until only the physical pain remained, and the other far greater pain was diminished to nothingness. She'd run until the wind enveloped her into its self, until she became part of the wind and left herself behind. She'd run until her body was unable to support her, until she collapsed from over exertion. And in this brief interval of blackness, beautiful nothingness, Haruka felt absolutely nothing at all.
*****
There was no greater torture than lunch hour. Haruka would sit under her favourite tree; eat the squalor that passed for her lunch, and watch the targets pass by.
They would march past her line of vision in groups, laughing and teasing and threatening those in their way.
Walking targets.
Haruka would clench her fists in anger and frustration. Oh, how she wanted to clobber them! The feel of her fist breaking through their noses, the splash of blood (theirs) against her cheek, the sight of their pathetic forms flying through the air! Why, oh why did she have to be on probation? Just one punch, one little punch and she would be expelled. Sometimes it even seemed worth it, but in the end, Haruka always resisted. Sure, she hated school and all, but she could not afford to be kicked out. Not with all of the other trouble she had gotten into. Besides, she'd rather be at school than at home with that asshole Hoshino.
The fact that it was forbidden fruit only served to intensify the cravings.
"Just three more hours," Haruka consoled herself, "three more hours until school is over. Then it's time for karate, and there you can kick the shit out of some poor sucker. Maybe you'll meet some creep on the way, if you're lucky."
The thought brought a smile to her face.
The bell rang. Lunch hour was over at last. She sighed with relief; somehow she had managed to curb her aggression. It wasn't as if she liked being in class or anything, but in class it was unlikely that she'd feel the urge to kick someone. Or at least be able to do it.
The remainder of the day passed by slowly and excruciatingly. After two tedious hours of Math, after an incredibly long and pointless hour of Home Ec., she was free.
As soon as the bell rung Haruka was out of her seat and halfway towards the door, springing to life after three hours of confinement. She rushed past the mass obstacle of giggling students towards her locker, where she dumped her textbooks ceremoniously on the floor, grabbed her coat and headed out the door.
Through the door she went, practically singing. Freedom, glorious freedom! The late winter sun warmed her face as she tilted her head skywards; the ghost of a smile appeared on her face. She took a deep breath, relishing in the fresh air, filling her lungs till they ached. Oh, how sweet was the first breath of fresh air after breathing the condensed, infiltrated air of the school!
Haruka had been in a horrible mood that day, but with the wind ruffling her hair and the scent of spring in the air, her anger began to slip away. She picked up her pace, loving the way her body responded to her efforts, loving the feeling of the ground disappearing beneath her feet. The tension left her shoulders, and she felt lighter, almost weightless.
The cars raced past her, but she barely heard them. So completely absorbed in her running was she that she almost missed the harsh, cruel words.
"You little dyke," came the vicious voice of a man.
Haruka stopped dead in her tracks, the hair on the back of her neck rising. She spun around, but saw no one behind her. Whoever had uttered those words was not directing them towards her, that much was certain.
Nevertheless, Haruka felt a surge of anger. She cocked her head, straining to discern which direction the voice had come from.
Laughter, deep and ominous, came from between two narrow apartment buildings; looking closely, Haruka could see the silhouettes of several people clustered in the confining alley. They were circling the small form of another, what appeared to be a young woman.
"Bastards," she muttered angrily, clenching her fists. She just couldn't avoid them; they were like the plague, infiltrating every surface, every area within the city. The world was full of them; there was no avoiding them. No matter what punishments they faced, they thrived; they lingered in the shadows and attacked. No matter how society's rules had changed throughout the years, there always remained bigots, racists, and homophobes. Times were changing, but still they remained; these people would never change. Like parasites, they multiplied, passing their hatred on to their offspring, who would in turn do the same. A vicious circle; even if the original perpetrators were wiped out, their offspring would continue on the same path.
However, Haruka intended on extinguishing these punks before they had a chance to reproduce.
Haruka crept silently towards the group; they were too distracted to notice her advance. Within ten feet, Haruka stopped, braced herself, and prepared to attack.
The lead boy advanced towards the cringing girl, a horrific grin spread across his face. He held her chin in his hand; she cringed, then with a show of bravery the girl retaliated by slapping him across the face.
"Hey," he growled, touching his upper lip gingerly; a small thread of blood dripped from the wound. "You're gonna pay for that, you queer bitch,"
The girl shivered, obviously afraid, but her eyes shone with anger and defiance; she would not let him break her.
The boy grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her to the ground. She couldn't stand, but she turned her face towards him and did not avert her gaze. Her eyes shone with pride; she would not give in.
The scene should have been pathetic, but the look in her eyes was unnerving; the boy was suddenly unsure of himself. Those eyes, that intense gaze frightened him, but he would never admit it. His buddies circled him and the girl, encouraging him, admiring him, respecting him. He could not some little queer intimidate him, no, not him! He had to defend his honour, his duty as a man! He was a man, dammit! Some pathetic little queer with scornful eyes would not beat him! He had to show her just what happened when you disobeyed the rules!
(What rules?) He subconsciously asked himself, but pushed the question aside; it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was a lesbian, and lesbians had to be punished. (Why?) He didn't know, but it didn't matter. She had to pay for her sin. (What sin?) The sin of…of…no, he couldn't question himself. Not now, not when the others depended on him. No, he couldn't let this girl with burning eyes distract him from his duty as man. (What duty?) No, she had to be punished.
The look in her eyes was a challenge, a dare. She dared him to hurt her; by refusing to yield to him she challenged his position. Now he had to hurt her, to show her that he was in control. She had made him question himself and his ideals, and that was unforgivable. She was in no position to pass judgement; she was in no position to affront him. The girl had to be shown just who was boss around here, just who made the rules.
The boy grabbed her shoulder and swung his fist back, he prepared to strike…
The girl did not turn her face, but she closed her eyes as she felt the rush of air pass by her face, she prepared herself for the inevitable…
It was at this moment that a stranger's voice echoed throughout the alley.
"Hold it!" the voice reverberated; the boy froze, his fist mere inches from the girls face. He spun around, lowering his arm, his face contorted with annoyance. Surprised, the girl turned her face and stared at the figure illuminated in the narrow stream of light. The crowd placed their attention on the one who dared to interrupt their ritual.
The tall, slender form of a young woman stood ten feet in front of the crowd, her bangs cloaking her face in shadow. Her body was in a fighter's stance, as if she awaited a challenge.
What appeared to be the group's leader stood, holding the victim in a chokehold before him. He stared at the young woman with a look of disbelief on his face. The victim stared at the young woman with big, pleading eyes, beseeching eyes…
Haruka meet the eyes of the lead boy, and felt a strange sinking sensation at the pit of her stomach.
"Oh shit just what the hell have I gotten myself into," she thought fleetingly as she saw the sheer size of the boy. "Oh shit he's huge…"
Judging from his uniform, the boy was a high-school student, and judging from the size of him, he was probably a senior. Meaning that he was probably 17 or 18…and in the range of six feet and two hundred pounds. And shit, he was well muscled too, built like a linebacker. Shit, shit, shit!
And here she stood, challenging a boy, no, nearly a man, in her school uniform and saddle shoes. A definite disadvantage.
"Well, well, well, just what have we here?" the man-boy mocked, his initial annoyance changing to mirth. He took her in, his eyes quickly scanning her body, resting on her breasts, and then meeting her face. And he laughed.
"Looks like some little junior high girl thinks she can play with the big boys," he smirked, and his buddies laughed along with him. "Go home, kid. This is none of your affair, sweetheart, we're just taking control of a little pest problem, here." He cocked a beefy finger at the girl he held in his arm, "Just teaching this little punk a lesson."
Here was her chance, she had foolishly decided to pick a fight with this hulk of a man-boy, and now she was offered the chance to escape. But Haruka didn't budge; she was nervous and afraid, but she did not flinch. She would not flee, no, she was no coward! She met his gaze and stepped towards him, her body poised for action. The crowd distanced themselves from their leader and the one who dared challenge him.
The man-boy laughed. "Hey, hey now, kid, what're you doing? You'd best back-off, before I change my mind."
Haruka continued to advance towards him until they were no more than three feet apart. They were within arms reach of each other.
The man-boy's humour disappeared as he saw that this chick was serious. "I'm warning you, kid, back off or I'll be forced to hurt you."
"No," she replied, her voice controlled and sharp.
Now the man-boy was pissed. "Look, you don't know what you're getting into. This is no helpless innocent; she's a queer. You know what a queer is, kid?"
Haruka nodded. "So what if she is? That doesn't mean that you have the right to hurt her."
He laughed, but without humour. "You don't think so? Do you know just what queers do?" (silence) "They're like parasites, kid, like rats. They spread their disease to others, like the plague. It's an infestation, kid; we're just the exterminators."
His words were like hot tar on an open wound; they stung and burned. Ironically, he had used the same terminology that she used towards his type: racists, bigots, homophobes. But his kind were the true parasites, they spread their hatred, whereas her type (?), what did they spread? What had gays ever done to him? To anyone?
"What gives you the right to play God?" she asked shakily, "What gives you the right to pass such judgements?"
The man-boy faltered, at a loss. He didn't know, but she had no right to question his ideals. She was just like the little queer!
"I give myself the right."
Haruka scowled at his remarks, her anger replacing her reservations. Sure, this guy was big, but she was not one to renounce a challenge. There was no way that she was backing down. Not after what he had said.
"Let her go," she demanded, her voice sharp and unwavering. There wasn't a trace of fear in her voice, no, only anger.
The man-boy poked her in the chest; she didn't flinch. "I don't take orders from you, kid. Now, this is your last warning. Leave or prepare to bleed."
Her last chance, to escape unharmed…but she wouldn't take him up on his offer. To abandon this girl, to leave her with this man-boy and his cronies, would be hypocrisy. For wasn't she just as guilty?
Haruka stood firm; she accepted her fate. She had to take a stand, for the girl, for herself, for the others like her. Sure, maybe one act wouldn't make a noticeable difference, but one had to start somewhere. To run would be the same as betraying herself.
She had decided; she would fight.
"You're a stupid kid, you know?" said the man-boy, "Risking your ass for this here queer." He called to one of his buddies, "Watch this bitch for me, will you? I've got to take care of this little problem."
"Sure thing," the buddy replied, and grabbed the girl's arm roughly. She struggled, but it was a futile effort; he held her in a stronghold. Dragging her roughly behind him, the buddy retreated back into the crowd.
To defeat the man-boy, Haruka knew that she'd have to use every trick she knew. Her opponent was considerably larger and probably a great deal stronger. His size was his greatest strength…but also his greatest weakness. His size gave him power and considerable defence, but it also made him a large target.
Anger burned within her, but the cold hand of caution kept Haruka from behaving rashly. In order to emerge triumphant, Haruka needed a strategy. Even if she was able to defeat the man-boy, there were still six others who would probably finish her off. She couldn't let her anger take charge. There was too much at stake.
Haruka desperately tried to make eye contact with the girl. "Don't try anything," she pleaded silently, "Please, God, just don't move…"
The girl seemed to understand; she returned Haruka's stare, and ceased to struggle.
The man-boy smirked, "Well, I guess this is it," and aimed a punch in Haruka's direction.
Except Haruka wasn't standing there anymore. With blinding speed, she dodged blow and managed to land a rapid kick at his back end simultaneously.
The man-boy shook of the hit easily, but was annoyed that she had managed to avoid him. "Speedy little bitch," he thought absently, and aimed a kick at her midsection.
Again she dodged expertly, jumping from his path with the skill of a gymnast. Now he was mad; he spun around and began an assault of punches on her; she managed to dodge every one and land a few hits of her own.
Her punches hardly affected him, however. He was able to withstand them without difficulty, and he resumed his attack.
Haruka was slowly being forced against the wall; if he cornered her, then he would undoubtedly land a hit. And if he landed a hit…then she would be at a serious disadvantage; the force of his blows was considerable. One hit would probably impair her.
Haruka struggled to simultaneously dodge, strike and block at the same time, but despite her efforts he pushed her closer and closer to the wall. Closer and closer to defeat. In desperation, Haruka tried to move towards the right, but the man-boy anticipated her move and aimed his kick rightwards; Haruka just managed to dodge as his foot flew by her arm.
"Oh shit," she thought as the wall grew ever closer.
As the man-boy continued to advance, fists swinging, her back brushed the wall, and she was trapped. The man-boy raised his balled fist; it came towards her with the force of a sledgehammer…
Without hesitation, Haruka ducked just prior to his fist connecting; he missed her head by mere inches and struck the brick wall instead. There was a loud crunch, followed by a shriek of pain. As he was preoccupied with his injured fist, Haruka took her chance and rolled between his legs. Emerging behind him, she sprung to her feet immediately.
"Oh shit my hand my hand you fucking bitch!" he shook his bleeding, swollen hand before his face, cursing and threatening obscenely. His face a mask of rage, he blindly charged at Haruka.
She jumped back, and would have avoided him had he not grabbed a hold of her long ponytail.
"Aaah," she gasped as he yanked her ponytail, hard, the pain searing her skull. She mentally cursed her mother for not letting her cut it.
"How'd you like that?" he grunted, giving her hair another yank. He then swung a fierce kick at her midsection; Haruka tried to dodge, but as he had her by the hair, she was unable to move far enough away. Luckily, his foot just grazed her abdomen but it stung nevertheless. She forced herself to stay focused; this pain was nothing compared to what he was capable of.
With a grunt she jump kicked the hand that held her hair; he shrieked as it was also the hand that he had injured earlier. Any doubt that it was broken disappeared with that snap. He released his hold on her hair, and Haruka was free.
The man-boy was breathing heavily, his hand was broken but he was still a long ways off from being defeated. His body was able to withstand her attacks; it would take hundreds to take him down. And Haruka was injured; her stomach protested every move she made. She didn't have the luxury of time, no; if she were going to win she'd need to finish this fight as soon as possible.
In order to defeat him, Haruka would have to play dirty. This man-boy had already proved himself to be a dirty fighter, so she felt that it was justifiable to sink to his level. If he wanted a dirty fight, then she'd give him a dirty fight.
They circled each other warily, both sizing up their opponent. The onlookers were awestruck; they hadn't expected the skinny chick to be a match for their leader. They silently watched the fight progress, their eyes never leaving the two adversaries.
The girl's eyes shone with fear, not for herself but for the one who fought for her. "Please be alright," she prayed, "Please,"
Haruka racked her brain, trying to strategise how to defeat the man-boy. In order to defeat him, she had to focus her attack on one part of his body. Then he would be impaired, and she could finish him off without worry of his retaliation.
But where to strike? His testicles were the obvious thought, but Haruka was wary of this; he was sure to anticipate her attacking him there. Besides, while kicking him in the balls would slow him down, it wouldn't leave him helpless. No, it would surely only increase his anger.
So where else? What were his weak points? His neck? No, too small of a target. His sternum? No, again too difficult. His kidneys? No, Haruka couldn't pinpoint just where they were located. His elbow? No, it wouldn't cripple him. Not his elbow, but another joint similar to it; if she were to damage this joint, then he would be unable to stand, and therefore unable to fight. Now, how to go about her assault?
Without warning he attacked, and Haruka was just able to avoid being struck in the face by his boot-clad foot.
"Watch it, Tenou," she muttered, "You have to stay focused; one wrong move and you're finished."
They faced each other, both unsure as how to proceed. Haruka knew where she had to hit him, but she knew that she did not have the strength to break the bone on her own; she needed his help.
A kick's power to maim was based on the strength of the attacker, the angle the kick is directed in and the position of the target. Haruka calculated just how much pressure was needed to break a bone. The conclusion: if she were able to use the man-boy's own strength against him then the bone would break. The attack was risky, but necessary. There was no other way to stop the man-boy short of shooting him in the head. Now all she needed to do was provoke him to lunge at her.
Luckily Haruka was an expert on infuriating people.
It was her experience that an opponent always reacted the strongest towards defending his secret shames: a coward his courage, a liar his honesty…and an insecure boy…his masculinity.
With a deep breath, Haruka braced herself. Everything was riding on this attack: if her calculations were correct, then this would cripple the man-boy and render her the victor. However, if the attack failed…
May God have mercy on her soul.
Haruka positioned herself as far from the man-boy as possible and tensed her body into a fighter's stance. They stood directly across from each other…in the prefect position. Now was the time.
"Some man you are," she taunted, her tone light but her eyes never losing their intensity, "Picking on a helpless girl,"
He flinched, then narrowed his brows, "You'd better watch your mouth, bitch,"
"Some man. Needs six buddies to take on an innocent girl…"
His face grew red; she had hit a nerve.
"Shut up," he threatened, his anger increasing.
Perfect: the man-boy was losing control over himself; he was letting his emotions overcome his good sense. Visible on his face was the struggle to keep his anger in check- a lost cause, from the looks of it.
Now, to drop the bomb:
"Any man that picks on girls to feel big is no man at all!"
With a cry of fury, the man-boy lunged at Haruka, his good fist aimed right for her face, his eyes flashing with rage…
Haruka waited until he was less than a foot away from her, then hurled every ounce of power into his right kneecap. The force of the kick combined with the momentum of his charge was enough power to dislodge the kneecap; it broke with a sickening crack.
He screamed an inhuman scream; it echoed throughout the alley. Staggering backwards, clasping his knee, his face was twisted in agony. Haruka promptly rose to her feet and faked a punch towards his face; predictably he removed his hands to block. Leaving his poor broken knee unprotected; she seized the opportunity and struck it with a lightning fast kick.
The sound of the knee exploding combined with his inhuman shriek paralysed the crowd; they were incapable of motion. Their eyes remained fixated on the scene before them.
"You…you…" the man-boy stammered, pain heavy in his voice. Leaning heavily on his left leg, he was still able to stand.
Advancing towards him, Haruka stopped approximately two feet from him. Leaving just enough distance between them so that he was unable to strike her.
"Tell them to let her go," she demanded.
"Never! You'll pay for this!" He shouted at her, then turned to his cronies, "Guys, help me…"
Several members of the crowd advanced towards them; Haruka had anticipated their movement and was prepared.
"Back off!" she threatened, facing the crowd, "Don't come any closer, or God help me I'll kill him!"
The crowd faltered; they were unsure on how to proceed. They turned their eyes towards their leader, looking for guidance. The girl watched with awe as her saviour held her ground.
"She's so brave," she thought, "Facing them all on her own. But bravery won't keep her from being killed…"
"What are you waiting for?" screamed the man-boy, "Get her!"
But before the crowd had the chance, Haruka made good on her threat. Swiftly she kicked the man-boy's left knee, the knee that supported him…
Although the kick was not strong enough to break his left kneecap, it caused the man-boy to lose his balance and fall. Directly on his left knee. It exploded as it struck the ground, weighed down by his 200-pound frame.
The sounds that escaped his lips were illegible, a mixture of curses and wails. Tears of pain fell from his eyes, running down his cheeks. He was curled in a ball on the asphalt, his arms wrapped around both broken knees. Haruka stood over him, prepared to finish him off if the crowd dared to approach her. A pathetic scene indeed.
The crowd hesitated; the girl prayed; the man-boy screamed: "Get her get her GET HER!"
"Don't come any closer!" Haruka yelled, turning towards the advancing crowd. "I'll really kill him!" She sounded as if she meant it, too.
But the man-boy paid her warning no heed. He continued to call for his friends; they hesitantly approached her.
Haruka responded accordingly. She stood beside the man-boy, just beyond his reach…and stepped on his right knee. Hard.
His scream was a shriek; his friends winced as the inhuman cries reached their eyes. However, they didn't retreat.
Haruka increased the pressure on the man-boy's broken knee, grinding her foot mercilessly and slowly. He tried to reach for her with his good hand; she kicked it away and stomped on his knee.
Now he was whimpering like a beaten dog, wailing as she ground her heel on the broken bone. All pride lost the man-boy finally gave in. A pathetic end for a pathetic man.
"What do you say?" asked Haruka, her tone vicious.
"B-b-back off, guys," he sobbed, "L-l-let the girl go."
Slowly the crowd backed away; the boy holding the girl released his hold and she fell to the ground.
A triumphant smile appeared on Haruka's face, but her eyes still burned with anger. She wouldn't be satisfied until all the boys had left.
"Very good." She said, and then directed her attention to the crowd, "Now take your friend and get the hell out of here. And if any of you try anything…" she cracked her knuckles threateningly.
They got the message; the group of boys lifted their pathetic leader onto their shoulders and retreated the alley like a pack of wounded dogs. Haruka's eyes never left their departing forms; her body remained tensed and prepared for action. She wasn't taking any chances.
However, a light pressure on her arm interrupted her concentration; she spun around and looked into the face of the girl.
The girl smiled a beautiful smile, her hand on Haruka's shoulder. "You're amazing," she breathed, her eyes never leaving Haruka's face.
Haruka was surprised; her concentration on the fight had been so great that she had almost forgotten about the girl.
"Thank-you. Thank-you for saving my life," she said. "I've never seen anyone as great, as magnificent…" and she blushed. "You're my 'Eiyuu'.
Haruka was speechless; this girl…
The girl smiled, and Haruka was struck by her appearance. Shoulder length black hair with crimson highlights, slightly wild and wind-blown. Her eyes, luminous and jade green…striking in their intensity. Creamy pale skin seemingly lit from within. "She seems illuminated by light," she thought, and a faint blush reddened her cheeks.
"Did he hurt you?" asked Haruka anxiously, "Did he…"
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine, he didn't hurt anything but my pride."
"Thank God," said Haruka, then mentally kicked herself. How could she have said something so stupid?
But the girl only laughed. She tossed her head back, and her long silver earrings sparkled and shook with her hair. Haruka found herself unable to look away.
"Sorry…" she stammered, embarrassed beyond belief, but the girl only grinned.
"No offence taken." Then she looked thoughtful. "He hurt you, though, didn't he?"
Haruka started to shake her head, but the girl only sighed.
"I saw him, no need to be modest. First he pulled your hair, and then he kicked you in the stomach."
"He only just grazed me," she protested, but the girl only shook her head disapprovingly.
She placed her hand on Haruka's hip; Haruka involuntarily shivered at her touch.
"It's all right, really, I'm fine…" Haruka insisted, but the girl ignored her protests.
She unzipped Haruka's light jacket and lifted her blouse, exposing her midriff. The girl placed her hand on Haruka's stomach, gently stroking the deep bruise that had been left by the man-boy's kick. Her touch was electrifying; Haruka felt almost light headed as a warm, intense feeling grew within her.
This feeling, what was it? How could such a simple gesture ignite such a strong reaction? Her body felt warm, light…the girl's fingers gentle, caressing, loving…what was this feeling?
"That bastard," the girl muttered angrily, "He really hurt you, didn't he?"
How odd that the girl was the one who offered condolence, thought Haruka absently. The girl was the one who had been hurt…
"It's OK," said Haruka shakily, the girl's caresses leaving her light-headed. "Really, nothing to worry about…"
With a doubtful look, the girl took her hands from Haruka's stomach. The memory from her touch remained, however; Haruka suddenly wanted to feel the girl's hands on her hips, on her breasts.
Their eyes met; neither could look away. What was that feeling, born deep within her? Haruka wanted to run, she wanted to feel the girl's hands, she wanted to take the girl into her arms and never let go…
The spell was broken by the sound of a car's horn; Haruka spun her head in the direction the noise had come from.
"We should get out of here," she said, "those guys could come back. It's not safe."
The girl nodded. She took Haruka's hand in hers, and they both left the alley.
Her touch warmed Haruka's hand.
They both blinked as the bright sunlight hit their eyes, unaccustomed to the brilliance of the late winter day.
"I want to ask you something," the girl said, "but not here. Will you come with me?"
Like she had to ask. "Of course," Haruka replied, "but I have karate in an hour…"
The girl laughed, shaking her head. "So that explains it. Where's your class?"
Haruka told her.
"Perfect, it's only ten minutes from here. Tell you what, I know a café on the same street, I'll treat you to a soda or something. That OK?"
She nodded.
The girl smiled, and again Haruka felt that peculiar feeling well up inside of her. The girl took Haruka's hands in her own and squeezed them gently.
"My Eiyuu," she whispered, and this time they both blushed, "I want to know the name of the woman who saved my life."
"Its Haruka, Tenou Haruka…"
She grinned. "A beautiful name. Suits you, too." She pulled a strand of her hair from her face and twirled it around her finger.
"And who…" Haruka began, but trailed off as the girl smiled brilliantly. This girl left her speechless…
"It's Mitsuko, Sora Mitsuko."
Mitsuko, 'child of light'…
"Mitsuko," Haruka repeated softly, then again, "Mitsuko…
*****
{Did I surprise you guys? Did you think the girl was Michiru? (Evil grin)
OK, before you start sending me death threats, just hear me out. H&M are perfect together, but I wanted to write something different. Remember, Haruka didn't meet Michiru until she was older, and we are all familiar with the scene. This story takes place before Haruka met Michiru.
So how did you like this chapter? Please R&R, as I like to know what people think of what I'm writing. Thanks to everyone who've stuck with "Rising Winds" for so long, and especially to those who have written their opinions (positive and negative). See you next chapter! (I hope!)
P.S. 'Eiyuu' means hero. }
-Brandt
The remaining white moon... The rays of light brimming over... The sweet shape... of the girls' hands... Everything around becoming a flowing line and breaking off.
At that time I will become the wind. I will become a wind prettier than anyone. I will become a wind stronger than anything.
With my hands on the wheel, stepping on the gas... My chest throbs... The ultra-high-speed world. That is the one space that's just mine.
For me to be me... I cut through the haze of heat. Sweat slowly pours down. Exposed to the light, the world is fully exposed. That is the one space that's just mine. For me to not be me...
High above, the clouds blow about over the vivid aquamarine sea. While I seek after it so much that I feel longing, I still feel like letting go sometimes. The dream I have in my heart... I pursue it so much that it hurts, but I still want to destroy it sometimes. The future I have in my heart... What on earth is it I keep running for? Just how far will I keep running?
The jet disappeared into the setting sun. It soared past, leaving two bold lines in the sky. Like it was searching for an exit, my gasping heart then gave an answer for the first time. If I don't keep running, I won't be able to see anything. If I don't keep running, nothing will end. If I just finish once... If I just get the checkered flag once... At that time I will become the wind. I will become a wind prettier than anyone. I will become a wind stronger than anything.
(Poem: Haruka "Uranus-Neptune-Chibimoon Plus" Translated by Alex Glover, from http://www.sailormusic.net)
*****
No matter how horrific a circumstance, it is possible for one to become accustomed if one has the will to do so. Survival begins internally; if one gives up, then one is lost. Mind over matter, willpower over circumstance…
Adaptation.
As a survivor, Haruka was able to adapt to her new situation, albeit grudgingly. What other alternative was there, other than giving up?
Haruka did not give up.
Following Hoshino's union with her mother, life on the surface remained consistent. Everyday followed the same schedule. Nothing significant happened during this time period.
Of course, beneath the surface, the winds changed direction as life continued on its new path. There was a brief interlude of tranquility, but Haruka could feel the sea retreat.
The prelude to a tsunami?
Hoshino was a slob; he left his filthy underwear lying on the bathroom floor. Hoshino was a pig; he ate the most disgusting, greasy take-out food and always seemed to have a can of beer within his reach. Hoshino was crude; he told dirty jokes and made sexual comments to Kotano in front of her daughter. Hoshino was lazy; he'd either lie around the house or go out clubbing. So why was it that Kotano was so firmly wrapped around his finger?
For the life of her, Haruka could not believe that her mother would fall for such a pitiful man. What was it about Hoshino that her mother found irresistible?
Although Hoshino was not an unattractive man, he was not particularly striking. He was too large and brutish to be considered handsome, his face was disproportioned, and his nose was too large and off centre. Kotano was incredibly superficial; she would only date a man whose looks she deemed exceptional. So what was it about Hoshino than attracted her?
His sexual drive. Hoshino was no great beauty, yet despite his imperfect features, there was something sexually exiting about the man. He possessed a raw sexual drive, crude and barbaric but undeniable. Despite his abrasive personality, his sloppiness and poor hygiene...despite his cruel, harsh looks, there was something sexual about the man. His gaze could be so intense…he'd look at you with his startling ebony eyes, a stare no woman could resist. He'd undress you with his eyes…and you'd like it. He'd make some offensive comment, and you'd laugh, secretly pleased. He'd embrace you to him, thrusting his body against yours… and all restraint would leave you, he'd consume you with reckless passion until you were left completely at his mercy. He'd use you until you had nothing left to give, and he'd hurt you, manipulate you into self-loath. You'd hear his words, see the disgust behind those eyes, and you'd apologise, and then he'd leave. You would be left alone, naked and crying, desperate…and still you would want him. The longing, so intense…despite his cruelty, no, because of his cruelty, you'd want him even more. The longing would be so intense that you'd forgive him all his sins, all his wrongdoings, you'd make excuses; you'd sell your soul for this man. Once you let him into your life, you'd never be able to rid yourself of him. You'd see his face behind your eyelids, your body would long for him, would sting and burn for him… He was the kind of man who made love with his eyes open, a man who never let his control waver. For that was what attracted women to him: his ability to completely envelope you with his presence, his unyielding power over you, and his raw sexual drive.
He was her type. Kotano was the type of woman who always fell for his type of man. A woman easily bored, who was usually the leader of her relationships, Kotano and others like her yearned for a man who would take control. Her type would fall quickly, deeply, in love with this type of man, and be blinded by their masculinity. They would completely devote themselves to their man, to the point of no return. For Hoshino was the type of man to take advantage.
Kotano was usually the lead in her relationships; she never had respect for her beaus. Hoshino was a man who took the reins, a man who made the rules and enforced them. A man who would dominate her, who would make her feel helpless and completely at his mercy, who would thrill her with his possession. A man who was a man. A man who made her feel like a woman.
Kotano saw past his flaws. This was a man who could satisfy her ever constant lust, a man who would leave her begging for more, a man who would leave her breathless. He was a man who could fulfill her greatest needs, a man who would take her and never stop, not even when she begged for mercy. His bad habits, his rages, were secondary to the feelings he awakened deep inside her body; she wanted him despite the consequences.
Kotano was a woman who never learned from her mistakes.
To avoid the constant threat of Hoshino, Haruka spent as little time as possible at home. She left for school at seven thirty every morning, and she returned home at past ten. Generally Haruka was able to evade seeing him, but as he was unemployed, he followed no particular schedule. It was inevitable that they would cross paths.
Their feelings were mutual; neither could stand the other. Haruka thought he was an overbearing asshole, Hoshino thought she was a fucked-up brat. When by chance they did meet, harsh words were exchanged, and a heated argument often followed. Hoshino could not resist the temptation to insult her, and Haruka could not resist the temptation to retaliate. The battles intensified as time went on and resentment grew. Haruka was resentful that he had invaded into her life; Hoshino was resentful that Haruka was the barrier that protested his entry into the family. Kotano struggled for peace, but both were adamant in their hatred; neither would back down. Eventually a truce would be called, but the next time they crossed paths the battle would resume.
So Haruka stayed away from home for longer and longer periods of time. She spent all of her time either at karate, at Kumada's, or just wandering restlessly around the city.
As a result Haruka seldom saw her mother. Because of their lack of communication, Haruka did not notice the changes in her mother's demeanour. She did not notice her mother's steady deterioration.
Haruka was on probation at school; one more violent outburst and she would be expelled. This made it impossible for her to pick fights at school, so she carried out her business elsewhere. Osaka had a population of 8 million, after all; there were bound to be other assholes out there.
There was only one outlet for her frustrations, for her anger, for her fears. Where she could forget, where she could release her pain, where she could let go of all that ailed her. Here, she was safe. Here, she was untouchable. Unbreakable. Unstoppable.
This space was just hers. She could forget anything, she could forget everything, she could forget herself.
The sensation of becoming the wind…
When life got to be too much, when the pressure to fit in, to belong, to please became overbearing and intolerable, then she would run. She'd run until her lungs ached, she'd run until her body screamed, she'd run until only the physical pain remained, and the other far greater pain was diminished to nothingness. She'd run until the wind enveloped her into its self, until she became part of the wind and left herself behind. She'd run until her body was unable to support her, until she collapsed from over exertion. And in this brief interval of blackness, beautiful nothingness, Haruka felt absolutely nothing at all.
*****
There was no greater torture than lunch hour. Haruka would sit under her favourite tree; eat the squalor that passed for her lunch, and watch the targets pass by.
They would march past her line of vision in groups, laughing and teasing and threatening those in their way.
Walking targets.
Haruka would clench her fists in anger and frustration. Oh, how she wanted to clobber them! The feel of her fist breaking through their noses, the splash of blood (theirs) against her cheek, the sight of their pathetic forms flying through the air! Why, oh why did she have to be on probation? Just one punch, one little punch and she would be expelled. Sometimes it even seemed worth it, but in the end, Haruka always resisted. Sure, she hated school and all, but she could not afford to be kicked out. Not with all of the other trouble she had gotten into. Besides, she'd rather be at school than at home with that asshole Hoshino.
The fact that it was forbidden fruit only served to intensify the cravings.
"Just three more hours," Haruka consoled herself, "three more hours until school is over. Then it's time for karate, and there you can kick the shit out of some poor sucker. Maybe you'll meet some creep on the way, if you're lucky."
The thought brought a smile to her face.
The bell rang. Lunch hour was over at last. She sighed with relief; somehow she had managed to curb her aggression. It wasn't as if she liked being in class or anything, but in class it was unlikely that she'd feel the urge to kick someone. Or at least be able to do it.
The remainder of the day passed by slowly and excruciatingly. After two tedious hours of Math, after an incredibly long and pointless hour of Home Ec., she was free.
As soon as the bell rung Haruka was out of her seat and halfway towards the door, springing to life after three hours of confinement. She rushed past the mass obstacle of giggling students towards her locker, where she dumped her textbooks ceremoniously on the floor, grabbed her coat and headed out the door.
Through the door she went, practically singing. Freedom, glorious freedom! The late winter sun warmed her face as she tilted her head skywards; the ghost of a smile appeared on her face. She took a deep breath, relishing in the fresh air, filling her lungs till they ached. Oh, how sweet was the first breath of fresh air after breathing the condensed, infiltrated air of the school!
Haruka had been in a horrible mood that day, but with the wind ruffling her hair and the scent of spring in the air, her anger began to slip away. She picked up her pace, loving the way her body responded to her efforts, loving the feeling of the ground disappearing beneath her feet. The tension left her shoulders, and she felt lighter, almost weightless.
The cars raced past her, but she barely heard them. So completely absorbed in her running was she that she almost missed the harsh, cruel words.
"You little dyke," came the vicious voice of a man.
Haruka stopped dead in her tracks, the hair on the back of her neck rising. She spun around, but saw no one behind her. Whoever had uttered those words was not directing them towards her, that much was certain.
Nevertheless, Haruka felt a surge of anger. She cocked her head, straining to discern which direction the voice had come from.
Laughter, deep and ominous, came from between two narrow apartment buildings; looking closely, Haruka could see the silhouettes of several people clustered in the confining alley. They were circling the small form of another, what appeared to be a young woman.
"Bastards," she muttered angrily, clenching her fists. She just couldn't avoid them; they were like the plague, infiltrating every surface, every area within the city. The world was full of them; there was no avoiding them. No matter what punishments they faced, they thrived; they lingered in the shadows and attacked. No matter how society's rules had changed throughout the years, there always remained bigots, racists, and homophobes. Times were changing, but still they remained; these people would never change. Like parasites, they multiplied, passing their hatred on to their offspring, who would in turn do the same. A vicious circle; even if the original perpetrators were wiped out, their offspring would continue on the same path.
However, Haruka intended on extinguishing these punks before they had a chance to reproduce.
Haruka crept silently towards the group; they were too distracted to notice her advance. Within ten feet, Haruka stopped, braced herself, and prepared to attack.
The lead boy advanced towards the cringing girl, a horrific grin spread across his face. He held her chin in his hand; she cringed, then with a show of bravery the girl retaliated by slapping him across the face.
"Hey," he growled, touching his upper lip gingerly; a small thread of blood dripped from the wound. "You're gonna pay for that, you queer bitch,"
The girl shivered, obviously afraid, but her eyes shone with anger and defiance; she would not let him break her.
The boy grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her to the ground. She couldn't stand, but she turned her face towards him and did not avert her gaze. Her eyes shone with pride; she would not give in.
The scene should have been pathetic, but the look in her eyes was unnerving; the boy was suddenly unsure of himself. Those eyes, that intense gaze frightened him, but he would never admit it. His buddies circled him and the girl, encouraging him, admiring him, respecting him. He could not some little queer intimidate him, no, not him! He had to defend his honour, his duty as a man! He was a man, dammit! Some pathetic little queer with scornful eyes would not beat him! He had to show her just what happened when you disobeyed the rules!
(What rules?) He subconsciously asked himself, but pushed the question aside; it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was a lesbian, and lesbians had to be punished. (Why?) He didn't know, but it didn't matter. She had to pay for her sin. (What sin?) The sin of…of…no, he couldn't question himself. Not now, not when the others depended on him. No, he couldn't let this girl with burning eyes distract him from his duty as man. (What duty?) No, she had to be punished.
The look in her eyes was a challenge, a dare. She dared him to hurt her; by refusing to yield to him she challenged his position. Now he had to hurt her, to show her that he was in control. She had made him question himself and his ideals, and that was unforgivable. She was in no position to pass judgement; she was in no position to affront him. The girl had to be shown just who was boss around here, just who made the rules.
The boy grabbed her shoulder and swung his fist back, he prepared to strike…
The girl did not turn her face, but she closed her eyes as she felt the rush of air pass by her face, she prepared herself for the inevitable…
It was at this moment that a stranger's voice echoed throughout the alley.
"Hold it!" the voice reverberated; the boy froze, his fist mere inches from the girls face. He spun around, lowering his arm, his face contorted with annoyance. Surprised, the girl turned her face and stared at the figure illuminated in the narrow stream of light. The crowd placed their attention on the one who dared to interrupt their ritual.
The tall, slender form of a young woman stood ten feet in front of the crowd, her bangs cloaking her face in shadow. Her body was in a fighter's stance, as if she awaited a challenge.
What appeared to be the group's leader stood, holding the victim in a chokehold before him. He stared at the young woman with a look of disbelief on his face. The victim stared at the young woman with big, pleading eyes, beseeching eyes…
Haruka meet the eyes of the lead boy, and felt a strange sinking sensation at the pit of her stomach.
"Oh shit just what the hell have I gotten myself into," she thought fleetingly as she saw the sheer size of the boy. "Oh shit he's huge…"
Judging from his uniform, the boy was a high-school student, and judging from the size of him, he was probably a senior. Meaning that he was probably 17 or 18…and in the range of six feet and two hundred pounds. And shit, he was well muscled too, built like a linebacker. Shit, shit, shit!
And here she stood, challenging a boy, no, nearly a man, in her school uniform and saddle shoes. A definite disadvantage.
"Well, well, well, just what have we here?" the man-boy mocked, his initial annoyance changing to mirth. He took her in, his eyes quickly scanning her body, resting on her breasts, and then meeting her face. And he laughed.
"Looks like some little junior high girl thinks she can play with the big boys," he smirked, and his buddies laughed along with him. "Go home, kid. This is none of your affair, sweetheart, we're just taking control of a little pest problem, here." He cocked a beefy finger at the girl he held in his arm, "Just teaching this little punk a lesson."
Here was her chance, she had foolishly decided to pick a fight with this hulk of a man-boy, and now she was offered the chance to escape. But Haruka didn't budge; she was nervous and afraid, but she did not flinch. She would not flee, no, she was no coward! She met his gaze and stepped towards him, her body poised for action. The crowd distanced themselves from their leader and the one who dared challenge him.
The man-boy laughed. "Hey, hey now, kid, what're you doing? You'd best back-off, before I change my mind."
Haruka continued to advance towards him until they were no more than three feet apart. They were within arms reach of each other.
The man-boy's humour disappeared as he saw that this chick was serious. "I'm warning you, kid, back off or I'll be forced to hurt you."
"No," she replied, her voice controlled and sharp.
Now the man-boy was pissed. "Look, you don't know what you're getting into. This is no helpless innocent; she's a queer. You know what a queer is, kid?"
Haruka nodded. "So what if she is? That doesn't mean that you have the right to hurt her."
He laughed, but without humour. "You don't think so? Do you know just what queers do?" (silence) "They're like parasites, kid, like rats. They spread their disease to others, like the plague. It's an infestation, kid; we're just the exterminators."
His words were like hot tar on an open wound; they stung and burned. Ironically, he had used the same terminology that she used towards his type: racists, bigots, homophobes. But his kind were the true parasites, they spread their hatred, whereas her type (?), what did they spread? What had gays ever done to him? To anyone?
"What gives you the right to play God?" she asked shakily, "What gives you the right to pass such judgements?"
The man-boy faltered, at a loss. He didn't know, but she had no right to question his ideals. She was just like the little queer!
"I give myself the right."
Haruka scowled at his remarks, her anger replacing her reservations. Sure, this guy was big, but she was not one to renounce a challenge. There was no way that she was backing down. Not after what he had said.
"Let her go," she demanded, her voice sharp and unwavering. There wasn't a trace of fear in her voice, no, only anger.
The man-boy poked her in the chest; she didn't flinch. "I don't take orders from you, kid. Now, this is your last warning. Leave or prepare to bleed."
Her last chance, to escape unharmed…but she wouldn't take him up on his offer. To abandon this girl, to leave her with this man-boy and his cronies, would be hypocrisy. For wasn't she just as guilty?
Haruka stood firm; she accepted her fate. She had to take a stand, for the girl, for herself, for the others like her. Sure, maybe one act wouldn't make a noticeable difference, but one had to start somewhere. To run would be the same as betraying herself.
She had decided; she would fight.
"You're a stupid kid, you know?" said the man-boy, "Risking your ass for this here queer." He called to one of his buddies, "Watch this bitch for me, will you? I've got to take care of this little problem."
"Sure thing," the buddy replied, and grabbed the girl's arm roughly. She struggled, but it was a futile effort; he held her in a stronghold. Dragging her roughly behind him, the buddy retreated back into the crowd.
To defeat the man-boy, Haruka knew that she'd have to use every trick she knew. Her opponent was considerably larger and probably a great deal stronger. His size was his greatest strength…but also his greatest weakness. His size gave him power and considerable defence, but it also made him a large target.
Anger burned within her, but the cold hand of caution kept Haruka from behaving rashly. In order to emerge triumphant, Haruka needed a strategy. Even if she was able to defeat the man-boy, there were still six others who would probably finish her off. She couldn't let her anger take charge. There was too much at stake.
Haruka desperately tried to make eye contact with the girl. "Don't try anything," she pleaded silently, "Please, God, just don't move…"
The girl seemed to understand; she returned Haruka's stare, and ceased to struggle.
The man-boy smirked, "Well, I guess this is it," and aimed a punch in Haruka's direction.
Except Haruka wasn't standing there anymore. With blinding speed, she dodged blow and managed to land a rapid kick at his back end simultaneously.
The man-boy shook of the hit easily, but was annoyed that she had managed to avoid him. "Speedy little bitch," he thought absently, and aimed a kick at her midsection.
Again she dodged expertly, jumping from his path with the skill of a gymnast. Now he was mad; he spun around and began an assault of punches on her; she managed to dodge every one and land a few hits of her own.
Her punches hardly affected him, however. He was able to withstand them without difficulty, and he resumed his attack.
Haruka was slowly being forced against the wall; if he cornered her, then he would undoubtedly land a hit. And if he landed a hit…then she would be at a serious disadvantage; the force of his blows was considerable. One hit would probably impair her.
Haruka struggled to simultaneously dodge, strike and block at the same time, but despite her efforts he pushed her closer and closer to the wall. Closer and closer to defeat. In desperation, Haruka tried to move towards the right, but the man-boy anticipated her move and aimed his kick rightwards; Haruka just managed to dodge as his foot flew by her arm.
"Oh shit," she thought as the wall grew ever closer.
As the man-boy continued to advance, fists swinging, her back brushed the wall, and she was trapped. The man-boy raised his balled fist; it came towards her with the force of a sledgehammer…
Without hesitation, Haruka ducked just prior to his fist connecting; he missed her head by mere inches and struck the brick wall instead. There was a loud crunch, followed by a shriek of pain. As he was preoccupied with his injured fist, Haruka took her chance and rolled between his legs. Emerging behind him, she sprung to her feet immediately.
"Oh shit my hand my hand you fucking bitch!" he shook his bleeding, swollen hand before his face, cursing and threatening obscenely. His face a mask of rage, he blindly charged at Haruka.
She jumped back, and would have avoided him had he not grabbed a hold of her long ponytail.
"Aaah," she gasped as he yanked her ponytail, hard, the pain searing her skull. She mentally cursed her mother for not letting her cut it.
"How'd you like that?" he grunted, giving her hair another yank. He then swung a fierce kick at her midsection; Haruka tried to dodge, but as he had her by the hair, she was unable to move far enough away. Luckily, his foot just grazed her abdomen but it stung nevertheless. She forced herself to stay focused; this pain was nothing compared to what he was capable of.
With a grunt she jump kicked the hand that held her hair; he shrieked as it was also the hand that he had injured earlier. Any doubt that it was broken disappeared with that snap. He released his hold on her hair, and Haruka was free.
The man-boy was breathing heavily, his hand was broken but he was still a long ways off from being defeated. His body was able to withstand her attacks; it would take hundreds to take him down. And Haruka was injured; her stomach protested every move she made. She didn't have the luxury of time, no; if she were going to win she'd need to finish this fight as soon as possible.
In order to defeat him, Haruka would have to play dirty. This man-boy had already proved himself to be a dirty fighter, so she felt that it was justifiable to sink to his level. If he wanted a dirty fight, then she'd give him a dirty fight.
They circled each other warily, both sizing up their opponent. The onlookers were awestruck; they hadn't expected the skinny chick to be a match for their leader. They silently watched the fight progress, their eyes never leaving the two adversaries.
The girl's eyes shone with fear, not for herself but for the one who fought for her. "Please be alright," she prayed, "Please,"
Haruka racked her brain, trying to strategise how to defeat the man-boy. In order to defeat him, she had to focus her attack on one part of his body. Then he would be impaired, and she could finish him off without worry of his retaliation.
But where to strike? His testicles were the obvious thought, but Haruka was wary of this; he was sure to anticipate her attacking him there. Besides, while kicking him in the balls would slow him down, it wouldn't leave him helpless. No, it would surely only increase his anger.
So where else? What were his weak points? His neck? No, too small of a target. His sternum? No, again too difficult. His kidneys? No, Haruka couldn't pinpoint just where they were located. His elbow? No, it wouldn't cripple him. Not his elbow, but another joint similar to it; if she were to damage this joint, then he would be unable to stand, and therefore unable to fight. Now, how to go about her assault?
Without warning he attacked, and Haruka was just able to avoid being struck in the face by his boot-clad foot.
"Watch it, Tenou," she muttered, "You have to stay focused; one wrong move and you're finished."
They faced each other, both unsure as how to proceed. Haruka knew where she had to hit him, but she knew that she did not have the strength to break the bone on her own; she needed his help.
A kick's power to maim was based on the strength of the attacker, the angle the kick is directed in and the position of the target. Haruka calculated just how much pressure was needed to break a bone. The conclusion: if she were able to use the man-boy's own strength against him then the bone would break. The attack was risky, but necessary. There was no other way to stop the man-boy short of shooting him in the head. Now all she needed to do was provoke him to lunge at her.
Luckily Haruka was an expert on infuriating people.
It was her experience that an opponent always reacted the strongest towards defending his secret shames: a coward his courage, a liar his honesty…and an insecure boy…his masculinity.
With a deep breath, Haruka braced herself. Everything was riding on this attack: if her calculations were correct, then this would cripple the man-boy and render her the victor. However, if the attack failed…
May God have mercy on her soul.
Haruka positioned herself as far from the man-boy as possible and tensed her body into a fighter's stance. They stood directly across from each other…in the prefect position. Now was the time.
"Some man you are," she taunted, her tone light but her eyes never losing their intensity, "Picking on a helpless girl,"
He flinched, then narrowed his brows, "You'd better watch your mouth, bitch,"
"Some man. Needs six buddies to take on an innocent girl…"
His face grew red; she had hit a nerve.
"Shut up," he threatened, his anger increasing.
Perfect: the man-boy was losing control over himself; he was letting his emotions overcome his good sense. Visible on his face was the struggle to keep his anger in check- a lost cause, from the looks of it.
Now, to drop the bomb:
"Any man that picks on girls to feel big is no man at all!"
With a cry of fury, the man-boy lunged at Haruka, his good fist aimed right for her face, his eyes flashing with rage…
Haruka waited until he was less than a foot away from her, then hurled every ounce of power into his right kneecap. The force of the kick combined with the momentum of his charge was enough power to dislodge the kneecap; it broke with a sickening crack.
He screamed an inhuman scream; it echoed throughout the alley. Staggering backwards, clasping his knee, his face was twisted in agony. Haruka promptly rose to her feet and faked a punch towards his face; predictably he removed his hands to block. Leaving his poor broken knee unprotected; she seized the opportunity and struck it with a lightning fast kick.
The sound of the knee exploding combined with his inhuman shriek paralysed the crowd; they were incapable of motion. Their eyes remained fixated on the scene before them.
"You…you…" the man-boy stammered, pain heavy in his voice. Leaning heavily on his left leg, he was still able to stand.
Advancing towards him, Haruka stopped approximately two feet from him. Leaving just enough distance between them so that he was unable to strike her.
"Tell them to let her go," she demanded.
"Never! You'll pay for this!" He shouted at her, then turned to his cronies, "Guys, help me…"
Several members of the crowd advanced towards them; Haruka had anticipated their movement and was prepared.
"Back off!" she threatened, facing the crowd, "Don't come any closer, or God help me I'll kill him!"
The crowd faltered; they were unsure on how to proceed. They turned their eyes towards their leader, looking for guidance. The girl watched with awe as her saviour held her ground.
"She's so brave," she thought, "Facing them all on her own. But bravery won't keep her from being killed…"
"What are you waiting for?" screamed the man-boy, "Get her!"
But before the crowd had the chance, Haruka made good on her threat. Swiftly she kicked the man-boy's left knee, the knee that supported him…
Although the kick was not strong enough to break his left kneecap, it caused the man-boy to lose his balance and fall. Directly on his left knee. It exploded as it struck the ground, weighed down by his 200-pound frame.
The sounds that escaped his lips were illegible, a mixture of curses and wails. Tears of pain fell from his eyes, running down his cheeks. He was curled in a ball on the asphalt, his arms wrapped around both broken knees. Haruka stood over him, prepared to finish him off if the crowd dared to approach her. A pathetic scene indeed.
The crowd hesitated; the girl prayed; the man-boy screamed: "Get her get her GET HER!"
"Don't come any closer!" Haruka yelled, turning towards the advancing crowd. "I'll really kill him!" She sounded as if she meant it, too.
But the man-boy paid her warning no heed. He continued to call for his friends; they hesitantly approached her.
Haruka responded accordingly. She stood beside the man-boy, just beyond his reach…and stepped on his right knee. Hard.
His scream was a shriek; his friends winced as the inhuman cries reached their eyes. However, they didn't retreat.
Haruka increased the pressure on the man-boy's broken knee, grinding her foot mercilessly and slowly. He tried to reach for her with his good hand; she kicked it away and stomped on his knee.
Now he was whimpering like a beaten dog, wailing as she ground her heel on the broken bone. All pride lost the man-boy finally gave in. A pathetic end for a pathetic man.
"What do you say?" asked Haruka, her tone vicious.
"B-b-back off, guys," he sobbed, "L-l-let the girl go."
Slowly the crowd backed away; the boy holding the girl released his hold and she fell to the ground.
A triumphant smile appeared on Haruka's face, but her eyes still burned with anger. She wouldn't be satisfied until all the boys had left.
"Very good." She said, and then directed her attention to the crowd, "Now take your friend and get the hell out of here. And if any of you try anything…" she cracked her knuckles threateningly.
They got the message; the group of boys lifted their pathetic leader onto their shoulders and retreated the alley like a pack of wounded dogs. Haruka's eyes never left their departing forms; her body remained tensed and prepared for action. She wasn't taking any chances.
However, a light pressure on her arm interrupted her concentration; she spun around and looked into the face of the girl.
The girl smiled a beautiful smile, her hand on Haruka's shoulder. "You're amazing," she breathed, her eyes never leaving Haruka's face.
Haruka was surprised; her concentration on the fight had been so great that she had almost forgotten about the girl.
"Thank-you. Thank-you for saving my life," she said. "I've never seen anyone as great, as magnificent…" and she blushed. "You're my 'Eiyuu'.
Haruka was speechless; this girl…
The girl smiled, and Haruka was struck by her appearance. Shoulder length black hair with crimson highlights, slightly wild and wind-blown. Her eyes, luminous and jade green…striking in their intensity. Creamy pale skin seemingly lit from within. "She seems illuminated by light," she thought, and a faint blush reddened her cheeks.
"Did he hurt you?" asked Haruka anxiously, "Did he…"
She shook her head. "No, I'm fine, he didn't hurt anything but my pride."
"Thank God," said Haruka, then mentally kicked herself. How could she have said something so stupid?
But the girl only laughed. She tossed her head back, and her long silver earrings sparkled and shook with her hair. Haruka found herself unable to look away.
"Sorry…" she stammered, embarrassed beyond belief, but the girl only grinned.
"No offence taken." Then she looked thoughtful. "He hurt you, though, didn't he?"
Haruka started to shake her head, but the girl only sighed.
"I saw him, no need to be modest. First he pulled your hair, and then he kicked you in the stomach."
"He only just grazed me," she protested, but the girl only shook her head disapprovingly.
She placed her hand on Haruka's hip; Haruka involuntarily shivered at her touch.
"It's all right, really, I'm fine…" Haruka insisted, but the girl ignored her protests.
She unzipped Haruka's light jacket and lifted her blouse, exposing her midriff. The girl placed her hand on Haruka's stomach, gently stroking the deep bruise that had been left by the man-boy's kick. Her touch was electrifying; Haruka felt almost light headed as a warm, intense feeling grew within her.
This feeling, what was it? How could such a simple gesture ignite such a strong reaction? Her body felt warm, light…the girl's fingers gentle, caressing, loving…what was this feeling?
"That bastard," the girl muttered angrily, "He really hurt you, didn't he?"
How odd that the girl was the one who offered condolence, thought Haruka absently. The girl was the one who had been hurt…
"It's OK," said Haruka shakily, the girl's caresses leaving her light-headed. "Really, nothing to worry about…"
With a doubtful look, the girl took her hands from Haruka's stomach. The memory from her touch remained, however; Haruka suddenly wanted to feel the girl's hands on her hips, on her breasts.
Their eyes met; neither could look away. What was that feeling, born deep within her? Haruka wanted to run, she wanted to feel the girl's hands, she wanted to take the girl into her arms and never let go…
The spell was broken by the sound of a car's horn; Haruka spun her head in the direction the noise had come from.
"We should get out of here," she said, "those guys could come back. It's not safe."
The girl nodded. She took Haruka's hand in hers, and they both left the alley.
Her touch warmed Haruka's hand.
They both blinked as the bright sunlight hit their eyes, unaccustomed to the brilliance of the late winter day.
"I want to ask you something," the girl said, "but not here. Will you come with me?"
Like she had to ask. "Of course," Haruka replied, "but I have karate in an hour…"
The girl laughed, shaking her head. "So that explains it. Where's your class?"
Haruka told her.
"Perfect, it's only ten minutes from here. Tell you what, I know a café on the same street, I'll treat you to a soda or something. That OK?"
She nodded.
The girl smiled, and again Haruka felt that peculiar feeling well up inside of her. The girl took Haruka's hands in her own and squeezed them gently.
"My Eiyuu," she whispered, and this time they both blushed, "I want to know the name of the woman who saved my life."
"Its Haruka, Tenou Haruka…"
She grinned. "A beautiful name. Suits you, too." She pulled a strand of her hair from her face and twirled it around her finger.
"And who…" Haruka began, but trailed off as the girl smiled brilliantly. This girl left her speechless…
"It's Mitsuko, Sora Mitsuko."
Mitsuko, 'child of light'…
"Mitsuko," Haruka repeated softly, then again, "Mitsuko…
*****
{Did I surprise you guys? Did you think the girl was Michiru? (Evil grin)
OK, before you start sending me death threats, just hear me out. H&M are perfect together, but I wanted to write something different. Remember, Haruka didn't meet Michiru until she was older, and we are all familiar with the scene. This story takes place before Haruka met Michiru.
So how did you like this chapter? Please R&R, as I like to know what people think of what I'm writing. Thanks to everyone who've stuck with "Rising Winds" for so long, and especially to those who have written their opinions (positive and negative). See you next chapter! (I hope!)
P.S. 'Eiyuu' means hero. }
-Brandt