Chapter Fourteen: Stop Thirty-Four: Buneos Aires, Argentina
The first day stepping off the plane and into Mexico City had been hell. There was no other way to describe it. Mitsuki was sure she'd walked off the aircraft, and it had brought her to some sort of fiery alternate universe, and it wasn't just the climate.
All around her, for miles, all she could see was poverty. The little children crying still seemed to haunt her. Granted, these people seemed to relish in their plight, always smiling, always pushing on, forever optimistic and hopeful. They spoke of a bright future where they were pulled out of the gutters and the adobe houses they lived in. They spoke of a hope so bright Mitsuki couldn't do anything but put it into words and sing it to the heavens.
It was the same all throughout their traveling in South America. From Mexico City, they'd decided to split their week in two and do a surprise concert in San Pedro, Belize, the tourist hot spot of Central America. That was the place that Mitsuki had seen the most hope.
As she looked out the plane window flying in, she saw the greens of the Amazon rainforest fade to a dingy brown of the ocean water, "Takuto," she'd whispered gently, tugging on his arm and urging him to look out to the ocean. "I thought we were supposed to be going to the Caribbean. I don't think that's what it's supposed to look like."
Takuto had looked at her sadly and nodded, "No sewage systems I'm afraid," was all he said before he turned away from the sight, and Mitsuki gasped as the plane drew closer to the runway and hit the ground with a slight bump.
The airport was a huge step down from what she'd known in Tokyo. It was three rooms with three terminals, the largest airport in the entire country, and it seemed as if everyone in the airport was looking out at her, waiting for her arrival. At first, she'd been horrified by the faces, unable to bear them as the people catered to her every whim, seeking desperately any spare change she would grant them. As they flew over to the small cay where San Pedro was located, she felt her heart well up in fury at the conditions here.
"Why doesn't anyone do anything about this?" she demanded, hands clenching into fists as she stared out into the water, and the dirty brown close to the coast began to brighten and clarify to the greens and turquoises she'd always imagined but never seen.
Takuto sighed and shook his head, "People do, it's just not enough," he told her gently. "Solving the poverty of an entire country is hard enough let alone an entire continent; and you haven't even seen Africa yet. There are people working on it everyday though, and in the meantime, everyone here makes the most of their lives. You'll see it."
And she did see it, even through the horrors she was forced to witness silently. On the bare, dirt floor of a clay house a baby boy sat, crying, reaching his hungry hands forward, but no one ran to clutch him, because they had nothing to offer. They just stared at him with hollow eyes and let him cry out his hunger. When he was finished, his mother scooped him into her loving arms and stared at Mitsuki, the foreigner, with eyes that were not hateful, but thankful. The money Mitsuki brought with her stimulated their economy, made more jobs, and to these people, that was everything.
"One day," her taxi driver told her, grinning widely. "There will be roads in Belize, and there will be a large school. One day there will be a new Belize; you come back in twenty years and you will see."
So Mitsuki took it with open eyes and open heart, doing what she could, but enjoying her time there too, with the people who seemed to fill her heart with their warmth and optimism. Even if it was an act for the tourists, she reveled in it. She Scuba dove in the Caribbean, chasing sea turtles and feeding nurse sharks and stingrays, basking in the warmth it brought her. That was what she wanted to remember most, though she would never forget the hands and the eyes. She vowed that once she was finished the tour she would start on a new project. Suddenly, nothing was about her anymore.
And so they went to Havana, Cuba, and she wasn't surprised to see the same scenes of horror, just enlightened. She took it all in stride, and laughed with the local women, helping them hang laundry, simple chores. When they went to Bogota, Columbia, she didn't shy away from small children with dilated pupils who reeked of a drug experiment gone wrong, she took them in and tried her best to see them through the worst of their problems. She couldn't promise they wouldn't go back, she only spoke rudimentary Spanish, but she tried to tell them through her eyes what they needed to know – that there was love in the world, and a life worth living.
In Santiago, Chile, she made sure to comment on all the wonderful foods and tip far too much, but the sparkle in the eyes of the waitress' was reward in itself, and Takuto sat by, watching her in awe, love growing in his heart, questions dying. He didn't care. There was something about this place, and her renewed spirit that moved him. Here, in the most unlikely of places, she had rediscovered her happiness. Because really, her problems were trifles compared to these, and still, these people smiled, still they laughed and dreamed of better days, and the spirit was infectious, so she was almost sure she could settle down in one of the clay huts in the hundred degree weather and live contented all her days with nothing but the clothes on her back and the skills her hands brought her. And she could be proud of that. There was nothing wrong with manual labor, that's what these people had taught her. There was nothing that should be looked down on; every and any skill was a gift. You shouldn't be defined by what you do, but who you are, and that message echoed in every word she spoke or sang. Suddenly, everything in her life was very clear.
"Our last concert in South America," Mitsuki told Takuto with a regretful melancholy in her voice.
"Then let's make sure they remember it," Takuto squeezed her hand reassuringly, and she nodded and headed out ons the rudimentary stage.
That night she sang for South America, sang of its plight, but also of the profound love it'd invoked in her, a love that really would overcome all odds. There was nothing that would wrench these memories from her mind, not the most powerful plant in this world or the next, and she knew it. The lessons had been engrained in the fabric of her being, and she wanted to make sure the people that had touched her knew it too.
The song she chose as an ending she'd written in Belize and started out with a quiet piano and flute duet; triplets that flowed like the ocean, accompanied by the quiet chords of the electric base. Her voice came out low and melodic but never lost strength or intensity.
"One thousand miles, south of the border, I found what I always searched for
And just as easily, I'm headed north again, unable to see why I didn't win"
The music rose to a fiery pitch as Mitsuki tried to force every bit of anger and frustration she had at the situation into her music, and just the effort left her drained.
"How can I live in a lacking world? Yet how can I stand to stand by?
How can I feel so safe, so sure, when I don't even know if they lie?"
The melody faded and easily slipped back into the A phrase, a gentle eight note pattern in the base and a simple yet beautiful melody in the treble.
"I know I found a paradise, in trash on the streets
It doesn't have to look nice, to suffice, to be what I need
But maybe that's all that you see…"
Again, the music found itself faster and louder, the piano chords crashing a dissonance that made Mitsuki's head spin, and her blood boil.
"I'm sure I found what I want, so why am I back here again?
So tired of bearing the brunt, this life is just beginning to begin."
She lowered her head and let the microphone fall while the flute and piano intertwined with one another, her voice barely a whisper for the next two lines.
"I'm too young, it's too early, I'm too innocent, but surely
You'll see how I feel, you'll support me, you'll teach me to deal with not being free."
Mitsuki fell to the bottom of her range, so the words were barely audible yet crisp and clean, making the audience strain to hear what she said.
"But I'm all alone in my head, and at night I see where I've been
And the images, bring dread, no, not this, again…"
The chorus of the song brought back the easy B flat chords of the beginning of the song, but moved quicker, hopeful yet dark.
"So take my ashes to the sea, where I feel that I'm just me
Bury me at home, so I'll never be alone, among the people I trust
I wanna be with them; I wanna live in their hearts
I don't wanna hear the when, when I know we're so far apart
So take my body to the ocean, go ahead don't miss me
You'll know that I'm at home then, and we can all be at peace…"
All but the flute and piano dropped out, the flute soaring high above the gentle piano melody, Mitsuki barely able to keep up with the surge of emotion not just coming from herself and her band, but from the audience as well.
"Just take my ashes to the sea…"
The song ended exactly as it had begun; the calm before and after the storm, and when it was over, she felt exhausted, as if the life had just been sucked out of her, but the cheers revitalized her enough that when Takuto came on she could give him a hearty hug and begin their final act in South America.
Mitsuki sighed from the balcony of her hotel room and let the humid Argentinean breeze touch her face that was raw from crying. This time though, they weren't tears for anything she didn't possess, but for what she did. She had so much to be grateful for, why hadn't she seen it before? The last few months she'd been so caught up in what she didn't have that she'd forgotten to see what she did. Meroko and Takuto had almost been forced to sacrifice their lives for her life, and she knew she couldn't sit around and wallow in self pity anymore. If she wanted to get what she wanted, what she needed, she was going to have to act.
"Mitsuki! Come on!" Takuto called from below her balcony, waving a hand at her, and she looked at him curiously.
"Where?"
He grinned at her, "Come down and find out," he challenged, and she laughed, swiped a hand across her face, changed her clothes quickly and bounced down the steps to where he waited below.
When she was on the sandy path under the palm trees that led from their hotel to the city, Takuto stepped back to admire her. She was wearing a short black skirt in the Spanish style, which ruffled at the bottom and flew out when she spun, with small pink flowers entwined into the fabric. Her shirt was Spanish also, a black tank top with multiple ruffles around the neck and a large pink ribbon that dangled down one of her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, and he bent down and plucked one of the many tropical flowers that grew in the area. He chose a large, pink one and set it firmly behind one of her ears, "You'll need it," he informed her and took her hand.
"What? Where?" she started, but he pressed a finger to her lips and began to drag her down the path. She laughed in confusion and followed after him.
"Are you worried?" Meroko asked him gently as they watched from their perch on the roof of a nearby house.
"No," he answered casually and shrugged his shoulders, ruffling his wings as he did. He had begun molting a few days ago, which could only mean one thing; he was fading, but it was happening gradually, to give him time to face the consequences of his actions and fix what he'd ruined. Little did the boss know, but he had no intention of fixing it.
"But Jonathan knows that something is wrong," Meroko pried. She hated when he kept things from her, it only made him darker, more susceptible to falling back into what he had once been. He was still new to their love; he wasn't immune.
"It doesn't scare me anymore," he told her quietly and turned to look into her eyes. "There's something about this place, if only…" he stopped.
"If only you'd know there was somewhere like this, before you…you know?" she nodded, "I was thinking that too. I would have cherished the life I had, no matter how bitter it was."
"Meroko-chan, do you…remember?" he inquired hesitantly, afraid to bring it up. As awful as the few memories of his past had been, Izumi still wondered at them. How could he have been living this whole time with pieces of him missing? Is this how Takuto felt every day? If it were, he wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy, and Takuto seemed to be far from it these days.
She nodded solemnly, closing her eyes and looking up at the moon, "I was very young, and very foolish," she told him, and began to delve into her tale that she hadn't shared with anyone until this point, and guessed she never would again. "He was twenty-one, I was seventeen, no age to be making rash decisions. He offered me his life and the world, and I took it. I ran, so stupid. I barely knew him, and I rushed into his promise of love. He destroyed me, kept me chained to the home we'd made, turning it into a cell. It was…not pleasant," she didn't care to get into those kind of details, and Izumi didn't press her, simply watched her with concerned and loving eyes and offered a gentle hand, which she took and continued. "I wanted to run, but he threatened to kill me. He destroyed me, inside and out. I thought I was nothing, not worth the life that was inside me, and so I beat him to it."
Izumi was silent for long moments before he took a seat closer to her and pulled her into his arms, nosing her neck softly, "Meroko, you're the kindest spirit I know. You made me what I am, everything good in me is yours, that's not nothing, far from it. And what's more, you protect that girl down there with everything in your being, despite what I once thought she stole from you. You didn't just acquire those things like you acquired your wings; you developed them, despite adverse circumstances. That is more than I can say for myself and most others."
She kissed him hungrily, and he returned the embrace with just as much passion, sure he was going to lose himself in her eyes, until the cruelest sound in the world touched his ears.
"So I see."
Jonathan, Izumi spun and groped for an explanation as Meroko vanished with a whisper, but it was too late, the damage had been done.
"You know I'll have to report this."
"No, Jonathan, you don't understand," Izumi found himself pleading, much to his former self's disgust, but he wouldn't allow Mitsuki and Takuto to be put in jeopardy. "It's…" he grabbed the first believable lie that entered his mind. "I'm using her."
Jonathan didn't seem convinced, so Izumi expanded it.
"I found out that she's the one who's been protecting Mitsuki this whole time from us, the one who's been dropping hints and such. If I can distract her long enough, you'll be able to stop them. I was going to tell you, but I had to make sure that I had her completely first."
Jonathan's look of suspicion melted into a sardonic little grin, "Well, now that is a plan if I've ever one. I'm in."
Izumi heaved a sigh of relief and hoped Meroko didn't take anything he said at face value. He knew he just had to stay undiscovered for a little bit longer, and then it would be all over, one way or another, it would be all over.
"Dancing?" Mitsuki squealed excitedly as they entered a small club on the nice side of town.
Takuto nodded and commended his good thinking when she rewarded him with a little squeal of delight, "I thought you might need some different sort of entertainment. Well, we've done something traditional in every place we've gone, why should Argentina be any different? So it's not the tango, dancing is dancing!"
She laughed, enthralled by the music, and the two dove into the sea of people.
Takuto wasn't the only person she danced with that night. Besides resilient hope and determined will, South Americans had an affinity toward foreign women and try as she might, Mitsuki couldn't resist them all. She took a quiet delight in the jealous little glare Takuto sent the men she danced with except when she found herself returning it to the numerous women who found Takuto to be just as irresistible. But by the time the night was through, the two had gotten used to it and could easily walk out of the club joking and laughing about the charming and unique partners they'd acquired.
"Gods, she was such a horrible dancer, she kept getting way too close, and I think she must have been listening to some other song or something, but man!" Takuto whistled, and Mitsuki giggled.
"Aw, but she was pretty Takuto," Mitsuki only half-joked, the girl had been stunning really, but she knew Takuto wasn't interested. He had eyes only for her, and she finally was beginning to understand it. It made her more confident and less afraid when he turned to her and looked at her seriously.
"Not nearly as beautiful as you," he whispered, and his voice heated her skin and caused a blush to creep into her cheeks.
"Stop it," she urged, turning her head, but he pulled her back to him and made her look into his eyes.
"Mitsuki, I know you lied to me, back in D.C. I don't know what you're hiding, but I know that this trip has made me fall in love with you, and no matter how many times I tell myself it'll never work, you always make me come back to you. And I'm not afraid anymore; I know what I want, even if I don't know who I am."
"Takuto," she choked, but he shook his head and kissed her softly, more tender than their last kiss, but nothing that sparked memory. Every time he kissed her was like he was kissing her for the first time. It was full of passion and desire, love even, but there was no recognition there, and that made her break away and turn her eyes from him.
"Is it your turn to run?" he asked softly, letting her go, but she shook her head.
"I'm not running anymore, I'm going to stand by you until you figure it out. I can't help you, but I can support you. I'm not going to lie to you anymore, because I feel like I don't have to. I'm just going to wait; I'll wait forever if I have to."
He grinned and grabbed her hand, "I'm glad you say that, because I feel like the answers won't be quick in coming. Yet, I know that I can find them, as long as you're by my side."
"I'm not going anywhere," she vowed and smiled up into his blue eyes, the night cloaking them, and for a moment, there was recognition there, but it flickered out in a heartbeat. For the first time in months, Mitsuki's hopes didn't come crashing down when the second passed though, and Takuto didn't run away from the image. Instead, they both focused on their goal, their hands locked tighter together, and they looked toward the future. One day there will be a new Belize and one day, we will be together, Mitsuki promised herself, and the two headed back to the hotel to ready themselves for the last leg of their tour.
§Well…where can I start? I went to Belize last summer, I'm a Scuba diver, and it was my annual trip, and it changed me…greatly. Everything in this story that I wrote about Belize is absolutely fact based; I was there, and there are even more horrifying stories that I could divulge. The people are the most incredible I've ever met, and from the other places I've visited in South America they all seem to be that way. The spirit is overwhelming, if one can only look past the poverty and into the eyes of the people. Besides being one of the most beautiful places in the world, South America is one of the most heartwarming. I went not expecting anything more than a Caribbean vacation like the one I'd seen in Britain's Cayman Islands, what I got was third world poverty and a heavy dose of culture shock, but after spending a few days diving and a few nights hanging out with some of the friends I'd made, I realized that despite the tragedy they deal with everyday, the people there are the nicest, most open, friendliest, and optimistic people I've ever known. I swore to myself that when I came home I would write for them, and I'vepublished a few small newspaper articles about my travels, but never anything that went further than my community. There are so many places that haven't been touched by aid programs yet,so many countries that need more aid, Belize is mypersonal cause, but there are countless others.There's no wayI could ever grant you the images of a third world country, not even with the most touching pictures; you have to experience itfor yourself, and I'd encourage the experience, it truly is life changing.I'll always carry those images and those people in my heart, and this is dedicated to them, and every other person who has born suffering and lived to smile again.§