avolare: Muse!Shinji says 'thank you'.
BattleAngelKurumi: Thanks for your many reviews. They are very encouraging. :)
Author's Notes: Character-torture. Especially in the last scene. Please don't kill me. :hides:
Chapter 6
Shinji trudged along the mountain path, occasionally picking up herbs that looked somewhat useful and tossing it into the basket. Screw the bathhouse if any of them were poisonous.
He reflected vaguely that he had not had the chance to ask Zenibaa about his memory problem, and decided to drop by the cottage again after he had filled the basket.
"Chihiro and Izumi had better have stopped hissing and spitting at each other by then," he thought, "I hate it when girls fight."
He had just bent down to pick up another herb (actually, it looked more like a dead weed), when a man stepped in front of him. He blinked up at the man, wondering if he had seen him somewhere before. Naturally, he couldn't remember.
"Do I know you?" He asked.
The man shrugged, "You could say so."
Shinji resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows, "Well, if you want to chat, some other time would be more appropriate. I'm kind of busy now." Truth to speak, that man gave him the creeps for some reason or another. "So, see you around."
Shinji was about to walk past the man, but the latter firmly stepped into Shinji's path, effectively blocking his way.
"I really am busy," Shinji said calmly.
Nimokushi smirked, an 'I'm-going-to-hurt-you-now' kind of smirk. Shinji shuddered.
The ex-lord of the spirit world fired a blast of magic at Shinji, knocking the teenager off his feet. Shinji crashed into a rather large boulder behind him, the back of his head hitting the boulder, hard. Shinji gingerly stood up from where he had fallen, swaying slightly, unsteady on his feet.
"You're stronger than I expected," Nimokushi said, "that blast would have knocked a normal person unconscious."
Not thinking, Shinji drew out the dagger than he carried with him wherever he went, and slashed at Nimokushi blindly. He couldn't really see straight; that knock on the head must have given him a concussion.
Nimokushi easily dodged this move of Shinji's, and grabbed Shinji by the wrist. He twisted it, and Shinji dropped the dagger, yelling out in pain. Damn it. He knew that the fact that he hadn't been paying attention in Haku's self-defense lessons were going to come back and bite him in the ass one day.
Nimokushi caught the dagger in his free hand, and hit Shinji on the back of the head with the hilt.
Shinji stopped squirming, and went limp in Nimokushi's grasp. Nimokushi hoisted Shinji over his shoulder, and returned to the cave.
Izumi lay on the bed in Chihiro's room, and sulked. She hadn't meant to say anything about Haku. That subject had obviously touched a nerve with Chihiro. She had just been angry with her cousin for disappearing like that, and desperate for her to return home.
There was a knock on the door, and Zenibaa entered the room with a tray of tea. She offered Izumi a warm smile.
"We weren't exactly properly introduced," Zenibaa said, while offering Izumi a cup of tea, "Izumi isn't it?"
Izumi nodded, and sipped the tea. She was surprised to find that it was good, the best tea that she had had so far, to be precise. "Zenibaa-san?" she guessed.
"Ah, you've heard of me?" Zenibaa magicked up a chair near the bed, and sat down, while Izumi tried not to gape.
"Yeah," she managed, "Chihiro mentioned you in her diary."
"Oh?" Zenibaa seemed genuinely curious. "And what did she write about me?"
"Hm," Izumi tried to recall what she had read, "She said that you were kind, and very different from your sister, even though you two looked exactly like each other."
"Well that's nice to know," Zenibaa laughed.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking their tea. "You came here to look for Chihiro?"
"Yeah," Izumi nodded. She stared down into her half-finished tea. "She made a decision to stay here, without even letting us know where she was. She doesn't know how horrible the last four years has been for us – her family; her friends too. We spent every single day wondering if she were alive. It kind of makes us wonder how much she really cares about us." She finished rather bitterly.
"Child, believe me, it wasn't an easy decision," Zenibaa shook her head. Izumi looked skeptical.
Zenibaa sighed. "For the first half a year or so, she woke up at night, crying. From what I heard, she missed everyone in your world too much. She nearly went back."
"Then why?" Izumi's voice cracked, "What kept her here?"
"Haku," Zenibaa smiled. Izumi made an exasperated noise, before Zenibaa continued. "You shouldn't be so quick to judge him. He was one of the best things that happened to Chihiro's life. He's her husband. All those nights, he never showed how tired he was when Chihiro woke up sobbing against his shoulder. He never got angry when Chihiro confessed to him her thoughts of leaving, no matter how much it pained him. There were a few times he even doubted Chihiro was happy, and considered sending her back, even though she was the one he loved the most. He offered a shoulder to cry on, holding her, and whispering comforting words into her ear during those long nights. He did whatever he could to help her."
"How do you know so much?" Izumi whispered.
"Haku sees me as a confidant," Zenibaa smiled fondly. "He couldn't possibly have talked to Chihiro about how miserable he felt every time he saw her cry like that. Besides, this is my cottage. I know what goes on around here, even though Chihiro and Haku are unaware of it."
"Then why didn't her send her back?" Izumi asked, "If he was miserable watching Chihiro cry, why did he let her stay?"
"He doubted Chihiro's happiness, but he never doubted her love for him," Zenibaa said. "He held on to the possibility that Chihiro would get better, because he loved her too much to let go."
Izumi remained silent, processing this information.
"What about you then?" Zenibaa asked, "Surely you wouldn't have come if you thought Chihiro were dead."
Izumi opened her mouth, then frowned. She gave the most honest answer possible. "I don't know," she said, "at her funeral… I just had this feeling… That she was still alive… Somewhere."
Zenibaa nodded. "Well, it was good that you had that feeling then, you got to see your cousin again."
"Yeah, but she won't come back." Izumi muttered, rather angrily.
"But now you know she's alive," Zenibaa said, "Surely that's worth something? She's happy here, Izumi. I don't think you would want to destroy that happiness by forcing her to leave."
Izumi fixed her gaze on the floor, wrapped up in her thoughts.
"Well, I'd best be going," Zenibaa got up from her chair, "Chihiro's out of the shower. You can go talk to her if you want now."
"Ugh." More or less summed up how Shinji felt when he came to in Nimokushi's cave. He felt like a herd of dinosaurs had stampeded on him, a bus had run over him, and the said bus had backed up over him again just for good measure.
He remembered his run-in with Nimokushi, and tried to sit up. His hands and feet were bound. He winced as pain lanced through his wrist. It had sprained when Nimokushi had twisted it. He looked outside, to find it was already dark.
Well, fuck.
Fuck fuck fuckity fuck.
"Comfortable?" Nimokushi asked from where he was using his magic to levitate pieces of wood into the fire. The fire was purple. Shinji barely resisted the urge to make a snide comment on how gay he thought that was. Purple was just not on his list of favorite colors. He was in deep enough shit without making it worse for himself. Instead, he settled for glaring a 'fuck-off-and-leave-me-the-hell-alone' glare at Nimokushi.
Nimokushi got up from where he was seated, and grabbed Shinji's chin, forcing the teenager to look him straight in the eye. He smirked. "You haven't changed much."
"Nice to know," Shinji muttered. "Now will untie me and send me on my merry way?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Damn." Shinji said without much enthusiasm. He hadn't expected it to work anyway, whatever 'it' was.
"You've lost your memory, I see." Nimokushi stated as-a-matter-of-factly.
"Yep." Shinji replied, altogether too cheerfully. "My life just Sucks That Much."
Nimokushi let go of Shinji, and sent another piece of wood flying into the fire with a hand gesture. "Would you like it back?"
Shinji's eyes narrowed. "You can give me back my memories?"
"Well, it depends…" Nimokushi left his sentence hanging.
Shinji fidgeted. "Depends on?"
Nimokushi smiled a smile that sent unpleasant shivers up Shinji's spine.
Shinji raised an eyebrow. "Well, name your price."
"Work for me," Nimokushi said, "Go back to your friends, put on your cutesy-cutesy act, get information out of then, report back to me."
"In other words, act as your spy?" Shinji asked, scowling.
"Yes."
"Hm," Shinji appeared to consider, "I'll be betraying my friends, screwing up further my already screwed up life, helping the guy who's supposedly trying to destroy the spirit world, all for the sake of getting my memories. Oh, and I forgot to mention how Fucked Up I will be if I am caught. I know the old bitch is fucking powerful, no matter how much it pains me to admit it. Zenibaa-san too. That woman packs one hell of a punch."
"Put it bluntly, yes." Nimokushi drawled. "I had the decency to be vague. You came to these conclusions yourself."
Shinji hissed, much like a cat, and spit in Nimokushi's face. "I won't stoop to your level."
"That," Nimokushi calmly wiped the spit off his face, his eyes glinting in anger, "was a big mistake on your part."
Before Shinji could reply, Nimokushi's foot solidly connected with Shinji's ribs. Shinji gasped, and curled up into a ball. The pain was excruciating. Nimokushi grabbed Shinji by the collar, and flung him against one of the walls in the cave. Shinji fell heavily onto the floor, blood dripping from the side of his mouth. He glared defiantly at Nimokushi. The anger in his eyes quickly turned to something akin to fear as Nimokushi approached, holding Shinji's dagger in his hand. Shit. He hadn't realized Nimokushi had it.
Nimokushi twirled the dagger between his fingers, a feat that only people skilled in weaponry, particularly knives, could accomplish. "Hm, I remember this," he said, seemingly thoughtful, "You had it the last time I met you too."
"Fuck you." Shinji hissed again. Nimokushi came closer, and kicked Shinji once more. He held the dagger to Shinji's throat. Shinji froze.
"Don't try to be smart with me boy," Nimokushi said calmly, pressing the blade against Shinji's throat slightly, enough to draw blood, but not enough to kill. "Remember, you are the one at a disadvantage here." He shifted the dagger, down to Shinji's right arm.
"Perhaps I should give you a scar identical to the one you gave me," Nimokushi sliced the fabric of Shinji's sleeve open. Shinji's eyes darted to Nimokushi's right arm, and found that, indeed, there was a scar that ran across the whole upper part of his arm. Shinji whimpered, trying to inch away from the dagger. "But… I think that could be saved for a later occasion." Nimokushi apparently changed his mind.
"You will agree to this," Nimokushi said firmly.
"Bite me." Shinji snapped.
"The offer I made is not negotiable." Nimokushi said, placing the dagger on the ground next to him.
"You said 'it depends'." Shinji argued.
"I lied." Nimokushi placed a hand on Shinji's forehead.
His memories came back in floods.
Shinji screamed, and struggled, tugging against the ropes that bound him, despite the pain that his sprained wrist was causing him. The ropes cut into his skin, drawing blood. The pain was nothing compared to the way his memories were being forced into his mind. Everything. Ever since he could remember. His mother and siblings. Where was his father? A sea of red. The glint of a knife.
And everything went black.
Dramatic enough of a cliffhanger? I'm trying my best to make time to write this. Reviews? Please:Puppy eyes:
