Western Blood Eastern Life Revised
Chapter Five: The Slytherin plays "Pay Back"
It had been a month since Hoshimi's meeting in the Order of the Phoenix. The month had passed in a whirl of almost lonely monotony. The Gryffindors had ceased to bother speaking with her, and Draco had done nothing but glare at her since the incident in the empty classroom. Asayake, on the other hand, had blossomed amongst their classmates, and Hoshimi had often heard them ask Asayake what was wrong with her. Asayake would shrug it off and turn the conversation, but Hoshimi knew that her friend was asking that exact same question. She could see it in her inquiring red eyes. Hoshimi had started to ignore her as well, burying herself in needless study and crafting a letter for her great uncle, in which she had carefully told of the futility of the order, and she had well hidden a plea for her to be able to return.
Hoshimi's letter in return had been less than satisfactory. He had told her that she needed to have more than just one meeting of observation in order to have an informed opinion. The damn old bastard was trying to keep her there; she was sure of it. There had been one good thing about her Great Uncle's return letter though, and that had been the attached letter from Kanaye. She read his flowing hiragana and felt content for the first time in as long as she could remember. That boy made her happy. Well, as happy as Hoshimi could ever really be anyway. But for that space in time, she was content.
She kept his letter tucked into the pocket of her robe; the soft thin rice paper more comforting than his words. It reminded her of home. She would stroke the smooth texture during classes rather than pay attention, and she dared say that people were starting to notice, though she didn't notice it herself until after Transfiguration one day.
She had been walking out of class; late due to her ink well smashing against the flagstone. She had taken a moment to clean away the ink with a spell and repair the glass of the well. Ink wells were easily refilled. She had then left the classroom, uneasy under Professor McGonagall's stare. She was sure that this teacher too could read the darkest secrets in her mind, and the woman never failed to unnerve her.
She walked down the corridor, her hand absently stroking the paper again when she slammed into something slight but substantial, a person no doubt. She stumbled back and looked up at the person who had dared to get in her way.
It was Harry. Of course, it would be Harry. He had apparently been waiting for her, because he was far from surprised that she had collided with him. He had been very little disturbed by her collision physically as well, which surprised her. He had taken only one step back then resumed his lazy pose, leaning more heavily on his right leg than his left with his arms crossed over his chest. It would have been extremely enticing had she one iota of interest in him. As it were, she shoved her hand in her pocket, caressing the letter and trying her best to look nonchalant.
His eyes followed her hand, and too late she realized what his next question would be. "What have you got in your pocket?"
She glared at him, feeling fury sweep up into her almost faster than she could clamp it down. Harry was the nosiest boy she had ever met. He was always poking into her business: asking Asayake questions about her, watching her during class when he thought she wasn't looking, and sending Hermione to spy on her up in the dormitory. It had been grating on her nerves all month, and now he was directly interrogating her. She was surprised she hadn't hit him yet.
Despite her anger, her only outward sign of annoyance was the tightening of her jaw, and a slight narrowing of her eyes. She was determined not to let him bother her.
"It's none of your business, but since you seem so determined to pry, it's a letter from my lover in Japan." She pulled out the rice paper a moment to corroborate her story then shoved it back in, glaring again. "Now, what is it that you want?"
He blushed, looking embarrassed, and Hoshimi found herself raising a slim eyebrow. She took a step forward and nearly smirked as he took a step back. Now, this was enjoyable.
"Well? What do you want?" She reiterated, taking another step forward, feeling very satisfied as he took another step back. The good feelings vanished though when he looked up; green eyes gazing evenly into her black ones.
"What's your connection to Sirius?" She gulped, any feeling of confidence draining from her face like her colouring. She took a small breath and schooled her face into neutrality, but she knew it was too late. The damage had been done.
He grinned, obviously not as talented at hiding his feelings, and now, it was he who took the step forward, and she who took the step back. This was not good.
"Well?" He had quickly backed her into a wall. Hoshimi could feel the cold, hard stone as clearly as if she had no clothes at all. That was bad enough. Harry's stare was making her feel naked. She found herself unable to return that gaze and looked away, mumbling excuses that she didn't even believe.
Neither did he. Harry glared at her, placing his hands against the flagstone on either side of her head, effectively trapping her. "Look at me." Slowly, stubbornly, she raised her dark eyes, flashing with anger despite her attempt at control. She didn't like being powerless. How unfortunate for her.
"I have no connection to him." That was about as believable as her earlier mumblings.
"I don't believe you." He moved closer to her and saw the traces of fear in those abyssal depths in her eyes. Where had that come from?
Harry didn't have the opportunity to ask her. She dropped her bag with a loud thud, distracting him, and took the opportunity to escape, dashing down the corridor with a speed that surprised him. He watched her go a moment before cursing softly. He shouldn't have cornered her like that. She pretended to be brave, but Hoshimi was a rather flighty thing, preferring to go unseen rather than cause conflict. She had none of the Gryffindor spirit. Damned if he knew how she got into the house.
He sighed and looked down to her bag. He should return it to her. They had lunch right now, but he would most certainly see her afterward in Charms. He kneeled down and grabbed the strap of her bag and pulled on it, causing the flap to fly backward and expose the contents. Harry froze then, questioning himself. Now that the bag was open. Would it really hurt to look? He knew somewhere inside him that it was wrong, but he was far too curious to stop himself.
He pulled at the bag and began slowly, carefully, to go through its contents. Mostly, it was the standard books, paper, quills and ink, but to his surprise, there was a surprising amount of muggle things. A CD player with a CD booklet, – filled to the brim with CDs – a couple of muggle books, and a box filled with something called pocky.
Harry sat back on the flagstone floor, staring in wonder at the open bag. What would a spoiled, as far as he could tell pureblood witch want with all those muggle things? From the moment he had first met her, she had confused him, leading him through a labyrinth with her behaviour and leaving him stranded there to be eaten by the Minotaur. Who was she to do this to him?
He stood, picking up the bag and making his way down the corridor. He didn't realize that for once, his thoughts weren't plagued by Sirius and the veil. His emotions were not wave after wave of grief, but rather a turbulent sea of confusion and curiosity. He now had something new on which to concentrate his attentions.
Hoshimi Yamino.
Hoshimi sat brooding in the back of the charms classroom. She berated herself for giving into the fear that was still lingering in the pit of stomach. She felt so stupid for running from Harry, and even stupider for leaving her bag on the floor. She didn't even have a book! What in the name of the Christian hells was she going to do when class started and she had no book to read while she pretended to study? It was truly a dilemma. Heavens forbid she actually be forced to pay attention in a class she had already laboured more than her fair share in at her own school. So what if she didn't know the charms in Latin? Ancient Chinese was more than acceptable to get the job done, and she rather enjoyed the idea of people not knowing what spell she was casting.
Gods be damned; she was rambling in her own mind! It was a truly good thing that she hadn't really talked around Harry, lest she find herself babbling her secrets to him at this very second.
A large number of footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn't turn. She didn't look up as Asayake sat beside her and looked at her with questioning eyes. She couldn't bear to look at her. Being around people made her remember she had not only run away from Harry, but that she had also shamed herself by showing her fear. Damn.
Then a loud thud resounded on her desk and she looked up in surprise. Harry's green eyes were watching her carefully as his hand released the strap of her satchel. He said nothing. He didn't have to. She knew what his transparent eyes were saying as clearly as if he had spoken aloud. I will find out who you are.
No, you won't Harry Potter. I won't let you.
It was a frustratingly cold day. The wind nipped at her bare legs, and she tucked her coat more tightly around her in a futile attempt to gain some warmth. She cursed quietly the institution that made uniform skirts and made her wear them on a cold day as she walked down the crowded streets of Hogsmeade, easily sidestepping people and managing to go unnoticed in general, her favourite kage trait.
Hoshimi was to say the least, displeased that she had been dragged down to Hogsmeade by an over excited Asayake, and then abandoned for the sweet shop. It figured though. Asayake loved sweets more than her own mother. Either way though, it left Hoshimi alone on the cold blustering streets, her teeth chattering as she took more and more cold air into her lungs so that she could better curse her predicament.
She leaned up against a building and let out a vapour filled sigh. It was the last weekend of October, and it was already this cold. The British were insane! She would've killed her nearest blood relative to be out of this cold, or at least to have a pack of cigarettes. She wanted to breathe in something warm. Who gave a damn if it was bad for her? Life was bad for her.
She stood there shivering, gloved hands buried in her coat as she desperately wished for warmth. It had been two weeks since her incident with Harry, and if possible, he was watching her more than ever. Honestly, with how attentive he had been lately, she would not have been surprised if he was watching her right this second. It was truly a very disturbing thought, and she wasn't too keen on pondering it any further.
The cold was doing things to her head Hoshimi decided and pushed herself off the wall, intent on finding someplace – any place – warm. She didn't get very far though. A hand closed on her mouth and clamped down before dragging her into an abandoned alleyway. She was then slammed forcefully against the brick wall, so hard that she saw stars, and then her mouth was released.
"Silencio!" A lot of good it did her. She opened her mouth to scream and found herself unable to utter a single sound. Her hand flew to her throat a moment before she focused on her attackers.
They were all cloaked, but in their cleverness, they had all chosen cloaks that bore the insignia of Slytherin. She knew who her attackers were very quickly and counted numbers. Seven in all, and her spells were rendered weak by her inaudible voice. Shit...
She grabbed her wand and moved forward, intending to do what she could, but that was also robbed of her.
"Accio wand!"
"Locomotor Mortis!"
Hoshimi's wand flew out of her hand as her knees snapped together. She lost her balance and fell painfully to the ground, feeling the skin on her knee caps tear painfully. That was only the beginning though.
A hand shot out and grabbed Hoshimi's long hair and pulled on it painfully. Hoshimi gasped silently, and her tormentors snickered. Then a knee flew out, catching her in the stomach and quite effectively knocking the wind out of her. Her aggressor moved forward and knelt before her, gripping her chin painfully tight. He leaned forward, and she could feel his breath brushing her lips. What an irony that it would the warmth she had been searching for.
"Who's the cat now Hoshimi?" He whispered lowly and drew back his fist. She had no time to react except to relax her body and hear rather than feel the sickening crack of his fist connecting with her jaw. She tasted the blood though and spit it out weakly, spraying his face with the coppery liquid.
He snarled and dropped her to the ground, wiping his face inside his cloak, carefully not to let it fall. It didn't much matter though. She knew who it was. She knew that it was Draco who had broken her jaw; whose foot slammed painfully into her stomach. Apparently, he could do some of the dirty work on his own.
He then stepped back, and it was the others who came forward, taking turns kicking her fallen body, cursing her form until someone mercifully shouted "Stupefy!"
She blissfully remembered nothing after that.
"Hoshi-chan! Hoshi-chan! Daijobu ka? Wake up!"
Hoshimi gave a soft moan of pain and frustration, but she didn't open her eyes. She didn't want to. She could hear Asayake leaning back in her chair with a sigh of frustration, but it didn't make her any more inclined to wake up than her friend's earlier pleading. She hurt far too much to want to slip back in consciousness', or more likely to acknowledge it. Deep down, she knew she was awake.
"Yamino-san." The voice, soft but commanding, was Dumbledore's. She knew that she couldn't ignore it, as much as she might like to at that moment. The man held even her respect. She gave another moan, and with some effort, managed to open her black eyes.
She instantly regretted it. The bright sterile white of the hospital wing filled her eyes to the point that Hoshimi was sure they had burned out. She gasped and closed them tightly, bringing up her hands to her face, growing more an more awake of the dull ache that pervaded her entire body. Dammit. They had gotten her well.
She winced once more and squinted her dark eyes up at Dumbledore, who was staring down at her patiently, but his eyes had none of their usual twinkle, and she knew he was upset about what had happened. Question was: upset at her?
"Good morning Miss Yamino. How do you feel?" She blinked in some surprise. Then she opened her eyes a little more as they adjusted to the light. It was a complicated question she realized. She was in pain yes, but it was nothing terribly severe, and she would be damned thrice over if she ever admitted it. Still, Dumbledore would no the truth no matter what she said.
"I'm as well as can be expected." She decided on the safest and most diplomatic answer her fried and skewered mind could grip upon at the moment. "How did I get here?"
Dumbledore's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He stepped aside and Hoshimi could now see the worried green eyes of Harry Potter. He approached the bed slowly as Dumbledore began to speak. "Mr. Potter found you in an alley, with a broken jaw and two cracked ribs, not to mention all the other bruises and lacerations that you had. Now, would you care to tell me what happened?"
Hoshimi also realized that this question too was loaded. To give up the information willingly would label her a coward and a snitch, of which she was neither. However, Dumbledore would know the truth as soon as she made eye contact, and he would know she was lying even sooner than that. Still, she had her pride.
"I fell down Dumbledore-sama." It was the only thing she could think of at the time, but it sounded lame even to her ears as she spoke the words dully.
Of course, Dumbledore did not believe her. He gave a sigh of exasperation. "Your mother at least came up with better excuses when she got beaten in a fight." He didn't press the issue; merely looked at her in disappointment a moment before leaving her to the wolves that were Harry and Asayake.
"Fell down Hoshimi?! More like got kicked off a cliff! You've never had broken bones in your life!" Asayake's loud tone made her ears ache, but it was nothing to Harry's quiet stare, waiting for her to crack.
Hoshimi sighed and slid out of the bed, feeling the hospital gown cover her adequately. She ignored the two of them and grabbed some clothes that had been left for her. Asayake had mostly likely gotten them by the look of it. Especially considering that they were pants and a t-shirt. She quickly slid on the pants and pulled on the t-shirt before sliding her gown out from beneath it, mindful of Harry's presence. She then finally turned to face them, running a hand through her lank hair.
"I know who it was Asayake. I can handle myself." She didn't say more than that. She didn't need to. Harry apparently wasn't satisfied though. Neither was Asayake if she thought about it.
"I might have thought otherwise, but you didn't even fight back did you?! A bunch of prissy school kids who haven't had an hour of training in their fucking lives overwhelmed a soldier who has had nearly twelve years of training!" Hoshimi visibly winced as she watched Harry's now calculating eyes land on her. What was he thinking? Did he truly believe her a soldier sent to fight Voldemort's legion? Best disabuse him of that notion.
"I'm not a soldier." It was murmured in her quiet, diplomatic way. All the fight had been drained out of her today. She had neither the strength nor the patience to argue with the fiery Asayake.
Asayake seemed to realize this, and she deflated visibly with a long, drawn out sigh. She moved over and wrapped her arms around Hoshimi's bruised and battered body, ignoring her friend's hiss of pain. She could deal with it.
"Gomen ne, Hoshi-chan. I just thought you had some of your mother in you." She pulled away from Hoshimi, and Hoshimi quickly turned her gaze away from the disappointed ruby orbs that gazed at her. Asayake gave another sigh and placed a hand on her friend's head a moment before turning and leaving the room.
Hoshimi didn't look up for a long time. When she finally did, Harry was staring at her carefully, and she had the sudden boiling urge to throw something at him. What the hell was he looking at anyway? Was she some circus freak on display? Her dark eyes narrowed at him.
"What is it?" Harry looked taken aback that she could speak at all. He watched her a moment before sighing himself; something she was getting very tired with hearing.
"I don't know. The truth behind the façade? A scared little girl that hides behind the image of a strong capable woman? You tell me Hoshimi." He too left the room.
Hoshimi's hand trailed up her body before pressing down on the stretch of skin that covered her heart, finding it very hard to breathe.
