2nd Visit Chapter 2: Episode 2, a paranoia agent fanfic

A fidgety Japanese man with unkempt, shaggy hair sat uncomfortably on the hard steel chair in the interrogation room deep within the NE Portland Police Precinct on Emerson Street. Nervously, he plucked at the non-existent lint on his well-worn, pale green sweatshirt as he chewed on a few sunflower seeds from the large bag sitting on the dull gray table. There were dark circles under his eyes, indicating that he had been getting little to no sleep. The amount of dirt under his nails and the unshaved surface of his long face showed that his bodily hygiene was also in question. His dark, brown eyes darted about the room wildly as he tried to see everything at once; pausing every now and then as if to listen to some unheard message meant only for his ears alone. The odd man's strangled chuckle brought even more in the way of questioning glances from the two people standing before him.

"Oh-kay," the older of the two began lowly, running a chubby hand over his bald scalp and gazing down at the arrest file in his other. "Mister…Mister…uh, how in the hell do you pronounce this? Oh…Oh-chee…gah…wah…? Is that how you say it? Ah screw it. Let's just start again, shall we? From the beginning."

The skinny man sitting in the chair looked up suddenly, eyes wide with fear.

"NO!" he practically screamed out, reaching fervently for the nearly empty bag of sunflower seeds. "No…must not…CANNOT…begin…begin… HORSE… the horse… He told me…he TOLD me… HE warned…WARNED ME…not to begin… But the seed…the SEED chooses… Ha-ha-ha-ha… Warn you…WARN him… Choices…his choices…are NOT the…not the…" He paused for a moment, listening intently to something that only he could hear. His face calmed somewhat, and then slackened into an expression of lucidity before he spoke again. "The moon shall dance tonight. The butterfly will flutter before it. Beauty upon beauty. And the bat will be drawn to it. Only the moon can stand against the bat. Only the moon…but…but what about…butterflies…? NO! Only the moon can…can… STOP… Can stop… Can't stop… CAN stop… CAN'T stop…"

The younger woman standing before the table was looking more perplexed than ever while the bald man to her left looked ready to burst a vein.

"ENOUGH OF THIS BULLSHIT," he yelled, throwing the police file down onto the table and slapping his hands hard against its flat surface. The bag of sunflower seeds jumped up slightly then landed, sending some of its contents bouncing along the top of the table aimlessly. "I want answers! And I want them now! I want to know how you managed to broadcast that idiotic message on a government transmitter utilizing a secure carrier wave meant only to be used in the case of emergencies or national importance!"

The thin man gazed up at the larger one, a questioning expression forming on his gaunt and weary face as he tentively reached for another handful of sunflower seeds. Without saying anything, the bald interrogator in the dark suit bent down as quickly as he could manage and snatched up the bag before the man could get any out.

"No," he said heatedly, squeezing the bag in his hand. "Not until you tell me how in the hell you did what you did with that archaic equipment in that abandoned house! And just what the hell were you doing there anyway! How did some homeless bum like you manage to access what you did with all that junk you call a transmitter! What, did you just think that this was some kind of joke! That the FCC wouldn't notice that shit you tried to pull! You think that you're smarter than us! Huh! Well, DO you! Answer me, you stupid freak! ANSWER ME NOW!"

Without any kind of explanation as to why, the woman standing next to him grabbed his arm and pulled him aside roughly. Pushing the bald man toward the corner of the interrogation room, she placed a calming hand on his shoulder but gave him a hard stare.

"Don't you think you're taking this a little too far, Agent Burke? The man is obviously mentally unstable. Just listen to him."

Burke frowned down at the young woman in front of him, then cast an irritated glance toward the strange Japanese man who was now mumbling to himself as he chewed on what was left of the sunflower seeds in his mouth. The corners of Burke's lips began to twitch. "Maybe so, but he managed to hijack a secure frequency and use it for that…that garbage he spewed all over the Portland airwaves lastnight! The FCC wants answers, Sergeant. And frankly, so do I."

Knocking away her arm before she could say anything, Agent Burke of the FCC pushed past the police sergeant and approached the small table with an expression that was anything but kind. Behind him, the young woman took a deep breath and ran her hand over the close-cropped blonde hair on her head. Turning nimbly, Sergeant Justine Mitchell retraced her path back to the table in the center of the room and took her side by Paul Burke, FCC watchdog extraordinaire.

The bald man was leaning rigidly against the table, palm of one hand flat upon the top of it with the bag of sunflower seeds still held stiffly in the other as those beady black eyes practically burrowed into the Japanese man's skull. "Now, you're gonna tell me what I want to know. No more riddles, no more fucking nursery rhymes; you're gonna tell me the truth about what you were doing lastnight with that crap you call transmitting equipment. You're gonna tell me, or so help me, I'll have you brought up on charges for violating six different FCC regulations and thrown into the backside of the state penitentiary! Now talk! Tell me everything you know!"

Rocking back and forth in the inflexible metal chair, the man named Ochiigawa seemed almost on the verge of falling apart. His scrawny face was paler than before, his brown eyes were heavy with tears and his mouth was quivering as if he were about to start crying. Across from him, Agent Burke smiled with smug satisfaction.

"S-Shounen…Bat… H-He's…he's b-back… I-I won't…won't escape this…this time… No… Be…because he comes…comes for those who…who have been…cornered…" Ochiigawa whispered darkly, voice shaking and on the edge of breaking. Looking up suddenly at the two people before him, he gave them both a warm smile and then closed his eyes. In an instant, Ochiigawa was flying from the chair; head cocked at a crude angle, red-hued saliva being thrown from his crooked mouth and blood slowly beginning to seep from an oblong impact wound that had suddenly appeared on the side of his face. He made an odd gagging sound as he fell haphazardly to the concrete floor of the interrogation room with a solid and meaty thud. His eyes had rolled back into his head and the blood that was pooling around his half-open mouth was filled with bits of unchewed sunflower seeds and a few teeth. A very weak moan was the only thing that came from Ochiigawa's motionless body.

Hesitating only for a moment, Sergeant Mitchell pulled herself away from the grisly sight and ran to the metallic gray door. Yanking it open, she poked her head out into the hallway and screamed out for help.

"GET A MEDIC, WE NEED SOME HELP IN HERE! AND SOMEBODY CALL FOR AN AMBULANCE! NOW, GODDAMMIT, NOW!"

Back behind the table, Agent Burke raised himself to his full height and just looked on in stunned fascination.

"Great," he uttered absently. "How am I supposed to write this up in my report?"

As the opening chant of Himekami's Kamigami no Uta begins, Maniwa comes to the end of his equation. The chant ends as he looks up with startled eyes, then everything goes white…only to start clearing up as the main music begins and the camera descends through the clouds to an overhead view of Portland, Oregon. The song picks up as we are treated to a typical busy day in downtown Portland – cars at stoplights, buses and lightrails moving to and from, children walking to school; people in general. Then the camera focuses in on a black-haired boy standing alone at a corner gazing down at a small picture in his hand. The light changes and he starts to walk across the street. Then the camera pans down to his shadow to show that it is that of Lil' Slugger. The focus is placed back on the boy as he walks past a dance studio with a Japanese girl bending and stretching inside. The focus goes to her as she continues with her exercises. Her eyes linger on a backpack in the corner, then stops as her mother comes down the stairs. The camera focuses on both their shadows to show that they are those of Lil' Slugger. As the camera pulls back to outside the dance studio, it refocuses on a gay couple as the stride by laughing and holding hands until they get to entrance of the coffee shop they were going to. The camera pans down to their shadows to show two Lil' Sluggers holding hands, then letting go and pulling them away from each other. The camera focuses back on the couple as they enter the coffee shop. The camera then pulls away in a blur of motion and slows to focus on the interior of a classroom were a nun is waving around a ruler menacingly at her students. Her shadow shows Lil' Slugger waving around his crooked bat. The camera pulls up and away from the class and goes through the window to focuses on a car going by and stays with it. Switching to an inside view, we see a woman with close-cropped blond hair talking on a cell phone as she guides the car toward the police precinct. An outside camera view shows the car pulling up in the parking lot of the station and stopping. The camera then focuses on the pavement as the car door opens and we see the shadow of Lil' Slugger as the one under the woman's feet as she gets out. As the music nears its conclusion, the camera recenters on downtown again and shows that everyone walking around has shadows of Lil' Slugger. The camera then pulls back into an overhead view of Portland. The song comes to an end as the camera pulls away even further to reveal that the entire city is covered with a giant shadow of a laughing Lil' Slugger. Everything fades to black and the Japanese Hiragana for PARANOIA AGENT appear and glow red with the words 2ND VISIT under them in English. Then they too fade to black.

This opening montage was done to the music of Himekami's excellent Kamigami no Uta (Song of the Gods) from his 'Best of…' Collection.

E P I S O D E

T W O

THE TELEVISION

"Hello, I'm Alicia Warren and this is the KATU 2 News at Ten. We begin the night with a breaking report. Two local teens were found knocked unconscious earlier today, just four blocks down from Lincoln High School. They were rushed to Legacy Good Samaritan Hospital where they remain in guarded condition. Early reports say that the injuries inflicted were the results of some sort of blunt force trauma to the head…"

THE RADIO

"…Just takes all kinds, I guess. But seriously, a big blob eating Tokyo? Jeez Carrie, where do you find these people? God. Alright, give me a new victim. Go ahead caller, you're on Alternating Viewpoints with Jesse Blue…speak your mind. If you have one…"

"Yeah Jesse, I just wanna say that your last caller was a total nutcase!"

"That your professional opinion?"

"Well…uh, no…but –"

"Then shutup and ask your question, bonehead."

"Al-alright. I just wanna…uh, I just wanna know what all this 'shen-jit-soo-no-ken-nin' the Japs keep talking about is."

"Best f'n question of the day goes to you, the bonehead of the hour! And all I can tell you is that this 'Shinjitsu no Kinen' that you so professionally pronounced for us is actually translated in good ol' English as…get this folks…as the 'Commemoration of Truth'. As to what the hell THAT means, well your guess is as good as mine. But hey, thanks for calling in. You just took away three minutes of my life that I'll never get back. Next caller…"

THE POLICE PRECINCT

"…Was taken to the hospital? Why?"

"Something happened to him. Honestly looks like someone hit him in the head with a fuckin' bat or something. From what I hear, there was blood and teeth all over the fuckin' Interrogation Room. Guess that FCC guy lost his cool."

"Jeez, that's some fucked up shit. So, what'd the captain say 'bout this crap?"

"Don't know yet, but he's got you-know-who in there."

"Oh man, he's probably chewing her ass a new one. Man, I tell ya, ever since her partner's death, that chick ain't been the same. Sometimes, it's like she's in a whole 'nother world or something."

"That's no lie. And what's with that stupid… Fuck, there she is…"

THE NEWSPAPER

The Portland Tribune, Page 3 Story: 'Recent Break-in At Sports Store Baffles Police'.

…The investigation, now in its second day, has uncovered that nothing of any real value was removed from the store. All money in the safe was apparently accounted for by store managers. While unsure if it was actually an attempted robbery or just a very unusual case of vandalism, what is certain at this point is that the only thing taken from the store were a considerable number of bats and a few a pair of rollerblades. Local detectives remain perplexed…

THE COFFEE SHOP

"…Oh, so you got a copy of it too? What did you think?"

"It was wonderful! I could hardly put it down. It was so easy to become lost in! I sat down for a few minutes and before I even realized it, an hour had gone by. It was that engaging. And for me to say that, you know the person has to be talented."

"I agree. The same thing happened to me too…"

INTERNET CHATROOM

Dancing Princess: I hate her!

Son of a Preacher Man: who?

Dancing Princess: My mother, who else!

Son of a Preacher Man: u always say that. but u always do as she says too. can't have it both ways u know.

Dancing Princess: Why can't I? Especially after putting up with her day in and day out! She's just so irritating!

Son of a Preacher Man: well yeah, I guess…

Dancing Princess: What's that supposed to mean?

Son of a Preacher Man: nothin other than u should be happy to have a parent that at least gives a damn and doesn't treat you like u don't exist…

Son of a Preacher Man: …like mine.

Dancing Princess: Oh. Sorry. I guess we both just need a way out, huh? A way to escape from it all…

Son of a Preacher Man: yeah… too bad that's not possible.

Dancing Princess: Tell me about it. I would…damn.

Son of a Preacher Man: what?

Dancing Princess: I just heard the door downstairs. She's home and I've got to go. Sorry! TTYL!

(Dancing Princess has just logged off and cannot receive or send any messages.)

THE MAGAZINE COVER

Two Years Later and We Still Don't Know What Really Happened. A Tokyo Progress Report. Updates and News Inside!

THE LIVING ROOM

"…A time for mourning and remembrance. You dishonor those who were lost. You dishonor yourself."

"Aw, gimme a break grandma! I wasn't even there when that crap happened! Why you'd expect me to go some stupid memorial with a bunch of old folks is beyond me! 'Sides, it all sounds like bull to me."

"I expect you to do it because you are my grandson and not some miscreant who doesn't know the meaning of respecting one's elder. Now, get some proper clothing on. We'll be leaving in ten minutes."

"God! I wish that Shou –"

(SLAP)

"Don't you EVER speak that name in this house! Do you understand me? Ever! Now go and get ready like I told you. And hurry up…"

oOo

Jason looked on blankly as his father's stretcher was loaded into the back of the ambulance that was parked in his driveway. The heavy feeling in his right hand had long since disappeared. Why had it even felt that way to begin with? In his left, his fingers tightened absently around the book. The backpack cutting into his shoulders seemed to weigh on him as oppressively as his thoughts. What was going on with him? First Chris and Ian and now…now this? His…father…? Did he…? Could he…? But…how…?

The Cycle Repeats…?

The disembodied voice echoed through Jason's mind again. But something seemed different. Somehow, the last part of the question seemed much clearer than the previous time he'd heard it. The first part was sounding dull, muted almost. Like it was coming from a low-band radio or something. Almost as if it the beginning weren't as important as the end. But why did that feel…wrong to him. Why did it feel as though he were losing hold of something important that he should know? Why was he even worried about it in the first place? It wasn't like he understood any of what was going on anyway. Chris and Ian. That odd boy wearing the rollerblades. His bent bat. Golden? What did it matter to him anyway? Why in the hell should he care? Those two pricks got what they deserved. Something that they had been asking for since day one. And besides, no one else cared about him. Especially not the man being strapped into back area of the ambulance with urgent and precise hands.

"Are you related to the victim," a voice in front of him questioned slowly.

Jason looked up at the policeman. His hazel eyes were vacant of feeling, devoid of emotion. His mouth opened mechanically, awkwardly. "He…he's my father."

The policeman regarded Jason strangely for a moment, and then placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm sure that he'll be okay. From what the EMs where saying, he took a pretty hard blow to the head but should come through it with no serious problems."

"Yeah," Jason replied dully as he shrugged off the policeman's hand. "That's why they had him strapped to a stretcher with a neck brace on and an oxygen mask over his mouth. Sure he's gonna be just fine and dandy. Ready to throw the ball around with me next week, right?"

The expression on the officer's face faltered quickly, the falsity of his lie clear as the waters of the Caribbean.

"Look, I…I was just trying to – "

Jason didn't reply. He just walked around him and made his way over to the rear of ambulance. Before he could reach it, however, the doors were closed and one of the paramedics who had leapt out seconds ago was rushing toward the front of the vehicle. The red and blue hued light from the noiseless sirens cascaded across his face repetitiously, bathing his expressionless visage in their unnatural glow. The engine of the ambulance came to life and was soon backing out of the driveway and pulling onto the nearly black road that would carry far away from the cool green lawns of suburbia and into the harsh reality of Portland, Oregon.

"Wait," Jason whispered dejectedly as he watched the ambulance quickly move up the dark street. "Don't…don't leave me… Please Dad…don't leave me. I don't wanna be…be alone."

The loud scream of the siren pierced the night, casting out its warnings for all those not comfortably tucked away in their homes to hear. The sound just confirmed Jason's worst fears. He was alone now. There was no one else for him to turn to. First his mother, now his father. His life was full of abandonment. No one cared about him. Eventually, everyone left him. But why? Why didn't anyone give a damn about him? Why didn't anyone care!

"Jason? Jason!"

A voice rang out into the night. A voice that couldn't possibly belong to who he thought he was hearing. A voice that he hadn't heard in two years, since that horrible night she had first left him alone. Turning slowly, Jason's hazel eyes fell upon the last person in the world that he thought he would see on this of all nights. A person whose bright face stood in direct contrast to her long, dark hair. A person who's piercing blue eyes were nearly luminescent in the drab glow of the street lamps. A person who filled his empty and spent heart, so longing for affection and love, with a warmth he had not experienced since before the day she had left him.

"M-Mom?" he stammered stupidly, voice low, quiet and on the edge of tears. "M-Mom…is that…you?"

A woman in her mid-forties ran up to him, kneeled and grabbed him in a hard, loving embrace. "Oh God Jason," she said, voice so full of emotion that Jason almost couldn't understand what she was saying. "I thought I'd never see you again! I didn't know I'd be gone so…so long this time! I'm really sorry!"

Jason just stood there for a moment, trying to absorb everything that was happening; trying to sort out his thoughts. His mother…his mother was back. She was holding him right now in her arms. So full of love, so full of life, it was everything that he'd hope her return back to Portland would be. She was back with him now. He wasn't alone anymore. He would never be alone again. Then a cold chill crept up his spine. But what…what about his father? Would his dad be okay? And who really did this to him? Could it have been…that strange boy from this morning? But how? Why?

"Shhh," his mother uttered as she placed a lone finger up to his mouth. Jason was not aware that he had spoken out loud. His mind was too clouded to notice anything. "No more questions. No more worrying. I'm here now and I'll never leave you again, Jason. I promise. Just leave everything to me from now on."

Jason looked down at his mother's crouching form. She was just as beautiful as he remembered her being. Before the divorce. Before everything had gone wrong. Before his father had become a heartless, block of ice. Before her book had become a big seller. Before she had left. When everything was just…perfect. A sudden realization dawned and tears began to pour from Jason's eyes. Driven by a unexpected burst of emotion that he did not think he had left, he threw his thin arms around his mother's neck and hugged as hard as he could. His fingers tightened around the book's hard cover. He did not answer her. He couldn't. He was too swept up in the torrent of emotions that he was feeling at her return to him. For the first time in two years, Jason was happy. Completely and utterly happy. And nothing would ever destroy that feeling. Not ever.

On a lamppost a few feet down the sidewalk from where Jason and his mother were embracing, a midnight-black raven sat perched there preening it's feathers with a dully glittering beak. As the boy and his mother rose from their embrace and moved over toward the police officer, it raised it's head and cocked it awkwardly toward them – beady black eyes centered squarely on the both of them. Flapping its wings in agitation, the raven cawed loudly into the chilly night air.

oOo

Twirl. Twirl. Bend back. Arms extended. Leg up.

A loud wood on wood sound echoed brutally through the wide and empty studio.

Twirl. Twirl. Bend back. Arms extended. Leg up. Higher.

The horrible sound repeated itself.

Twirl. Twirl. Bend back. Further. Arms extended. Leg up. Higher.

The pounding against the hard, wooden floor of the studio intensified; the unyielding presence of the noise becoming gunshots reverberating all over the expansive room.

Twirl. Twirl. Faster. Bend back. Further. Arms extended. Leg up. Higher.

The insane cacophony of rude clatter born of impatience and dogmatic pride continued on ceaselessly.

Twirl. Twirl. Faster. Bend back. Further. Arms extended. With more grace. Leg up. Higher.

The foul noise of a wooden cane harshly striking the scuffed surface of the dance studio stopped abruptly, followed by the sound of footfalls meticulously transversing the space between student and teacher. Soon they stopped. There was silence. Then another sound erupted, breaking the silence and shattering the calm. The sound of flesh impacting against flesh.

"You stupid girl," an angry voice shouted out. "Can't you get even the simplest of steps right! Twirl, twirl, bend back, arms extended, leg up! How hard is that! You're worthless to me if you can't get something so easy to understand right! What's wrong with you!"

Tsukina Hishimoto raised a light hand tentively to the side of her face where she was struck. She rubbed at the reddening welt tenderly as she cast sorrowful eyes at the woman standing before her. "I'm sorry Mo – " The woman's icy eyes widened cruelly. "I-I mean, I'm sorry sensei. I thought that I had it. I was trying very hard and – "

Tsukina's voice cut off abruptly as her sensei backhanded her again. She stumbled back from the slap and, losing her balance, fell to the floor.

"What have I told you about making stupid excuses, girl! There are no excuses in dancing! Only results. Something that you have yet to show me, Tsukina!"

The girl wearing a light blue leotard with white tights beneath it gazed up nervously at the hard woman glaring down at her. She still held the other cheek that had first felt the stiff backhand of her mother, Asashi Hishimoto, even though the opposite one throbbed and burned just as badly. Opening up her mouth hesitantly, Tsukina suppressed the urge to cry as she spoke out again. "I will do better, sensei. I'll show you that I can be a dancer! I'll show you that I can be just like you, sensei! Just as good! Please, give me a chance to learn more!"

Asashi Hishimoto looked down unpleasantly at her fallen daughter, eyes narrowed and eyebrows twisted up into a hideous scowl.

"Oh, you'll get your chance, Tsukina," the cruel woman uttered nastily. "Because you're not leaving here until you get every step that I teach you right. Now get up and stop sitting there like an idiot! Move girl, I don't have the whole night to worry with your stupidity."

Concern creased Tsukina's young face as she rose from the floor.

"B-But," she began uneasily, pushing a few strands of her dark hair back behind an ear. "I still have…I still have to study for my final exams. They're very important if I want to pass this year and not repeat the eleventh grade. I only have a few weeks left before they start and – "

"SHUT UP!" Asashi thundered angrily as she smashed the bottom of her wooden cane against the studio floor in absolute annoyance. "Just shut your mouth, Tsukina! How DARE you put your schooling before the dance! The dance is everything, Tsukina! There is nothing more important! There can't be! If you want to succeed at it, you must put it before all else and make it your life! There's no room for anything else! And as long as you're my student, girl, there won't be! Now, take your position and don't bother me with such foolishness again!"

Turning on the balls of her feet sharply, Asashi strode painfully back over to her place of observance and resumed her teaching posture; legs straight and even, bottom of the cane held against the floor oppressively, and those stony and dark eyes locked on her daughter. Her mouth opened and the sharp, piercing words coming from it echoed through the stale, sweat-scented air of the studio. "Now resume! Twirl…twirl…bend back…arms extended…leg up! Again! Twirl…twirl…bend back…arms extended…leg up! Again Tsukina! You are not leaving here until you get it right, do you understand me! You're going to stay here all night if you have to! Whatever it takes, you will get these steps right! Again! Twirl…twirl…bend back…arms extended…leg up! Again! Twirl…twirl…bend back…arms extended…leg up! Again! Twirl…twirl…bend back…"

Asashi's words became lost to her daughter's ears, drowned out by thoughts beneath thoughts. Tsukina did that same step over and over again, the constant disapproving glare of her mother burning into her eyes. But she did what she always did with the short-haired woman before her. She accepted it. She acquiesced to her mother's wishes. She did everything that the woman told her to do, no matter how cruel it might seem. She did it because she loved her mother. She did not want to disappoint her, the woman whom given up so much to grant her life. It would just break Tsukina's heart to hurt her like that. It was for that reason that she had taken up the dance in the first place. To please her mother, to make her love Tsukina even more. To bring the two of them closer together.

But somewhere deep down inside Tsukina, so deep that it remained hidden even from her, she hated the woman. Loathed her. She couldn't stand her. Her holier-than-thou attitude, her constant harping that the dance was 'everything', the mental anguish, the physical abuse; all of it made Tsukina hate the woman with a gnawing passion. She wanted her own life. She wanted to be independent. Tsukina didn't want to live in the shadow of a woman who blamed her for everything that she had lost, including her ability to dance. She wanted to excel in her schooling. She wanted to get a scholarship, go to college and create a real life for herself. Something…tangible. Something that didn't require as much sacrifice as the dance did. Something that allowed her to be…truer to herself. Something that kept her from living a lie. Like she was now. Down deep, she was tired of letting the woman disrupt her plans for the future just so Asashi Hishimoto could intravenously live her life through her only daughter. Just so she could dance again through Tsukina. More than anything, it was that thought that sickened her. And at the rate she was going, at the rate that her mother was driving her; she would fail the eleventh grade in no time flat. And for what? Five stupid dance steps that she could easily master, if she wanted to. But then, she didn't want to. Which was the bulk of the problem that she faced.

All the more reason why she kept everything locked up inside.

"Dammit, Tsukina!" Asashi yelled out, smacking the blunt end of her cane against the scarred surface of the dance floor. "You're not even trying anymore! You're not a flamingo! Don't bend your knee! And why are your arms uneven! Can't you even keep them straight! You're hopeless! You'll never amount to anything! You're no better than your father! And I refuse to teach my lessons to someone as worthless as a man who would put a bullet through his head instead of facing the truth of his problems! Are you like that, 'Tsuki'? That was his pet name for you, wasn't it? His Chiisai Tsuki, if I remember correctly. Are you a quitter like him? Will you kill yourself as well when life gets too hard?"

Tsukina had stopped moving when her mother had made mention of her father. She stood there. Frozen. Trapped by the horrible memories of that day. The blood. It had been everywhere. The scent. His entire apartment reeked of days old death. His face. A crimson mask of regret covered it, his dead eyes begging for forgiveness from the child he knew would find him. Tsukina's eyes were beginning to tear up, those terrible memories of that day overpowering her resolve not to cry in front of her mother. She broke down. Without saying anything, Tsukina fell to her knees and began to weep quietly into her hands after she had raised them to her face.

Asashi scowled down heatedly at her daughter, then snorted roughly under her breath.

"You're pathetic, Tsukina," she retorted, words harsh and full of spite. "We're done for the night, girl. In fact, until you can figure out what's more important to you, don't bother asking me to train you again."

With that, Asashi Hishimoto turned and slowly walked away from her still-sobbing daughter, limping ever so slightly as she placed her weight on the cane. Moving toward the staircase that led to the loft apartment above, she paused only long enough to run her lithe hands down across the light switches. The entire studio went dark. Asashi then began her painfully deliberate climb up the stairs, heedless and uncaring of the fact that her daughter was still kneeling there on the hard, wooden dance floor; crying over the memories of a man long dead.

"You're weak, Tsukina," she shouted back down the stairs without ever turning around. "He's dead and he's not coming back for you! It's time for you to grow up and move on! It's time for you to make a choice!"

Tsukina only cried harder.

-o-

The bright morning sunlight that filtered in through the large panes of glass pulled Tsukina from her slumber. Her eyes opened up gradually, the dried tears from lastnight at their corners loosening and falling away from her face noiselessly. Her body ached all over, tired and worn from repeating dance steps that she both did and did not want to learn. Why was her mother being so mean? She had always been rigid before, but now she seemed almost…unbendable. And why had she brought up her father in such a horrible way? How…how could she?

Tsukina unhurriedly pushed herself up from the hard wood of the dance floor. She sighed softly as she did. Even with the air conditioner running, the entire length of the room still smelled like day old sweat. It was a repulsive odor, one that she could definitely do without. Painfully rising to her knees, Tsukina stretched her arms above her head and tried to loosen up her knotted muscles. Her brown eyes lifted toward the ceiling as she reared back her head and yawned. As she did, the dull glint of sunlight reflecting off the face of the rather plain-looking clock caught her attention. Still holding her arms in the air, Tsukina gazed over at the time-telling device as she brought her head forward again. Her eyes widened frightfully at what they saw.

N-nine fifty-seven, she stammered in her mind. T-that…that can't be right! It just can't be!

Ignoring the pain her body was in, Tsukina got up as quickly as she could and rushed over to where her backpack was sitting alone on the floor next to the windows. Reaching down and unzipping it, she kneeled and started to rummage through its contents. A few seconds later, she pulled two objects from its interior – a small, featureless watch that she had bought and set exclusively to the Lincoln High School clock, and a slightly wrinkled, fuchsia envelope with the words "Happy Mother's Day" scrawled across the front in her messy handwriting. Tossing the latter aside absently, she instead lifted the watch up to her eyes. The precise, digital numbers confirmed her heart-clenching fear.

10:00 a.m.

"No," she uttered under her breath, gripping the watch tightly as she turned her head toward the staircase leading to the loft apartment. "W-why didn't she wake…wake me up?"

Tsukina shook herself away from the question and shoved the watch back into her school bag angrily. The least she could've done was wake me up, she growled irritably in her mind. Remembering blankly that she was still wearing her dance leotards and tights, Tsukina didn't even bother to head upstairs for a shower or a fresh change of clothes. There just wasn't any time. Making her way over to a small wicker hamper in the far corner of the studio, she pulled it open and searched through the dirty clothes there for something that didn't reek too much. When she found something suitable, Tsukina tossed them on the floor and began to remove her sweat-stained leotard. Pulling the straps down from her shoulders, she cast one more questioning glance toward the staircase. Dammit Mom, she thought heatedly, removing the leotard and tights from her body in one motion after she had sat down on the floor. Why didn't you wake me up! Standing again, Tsukina reached down for the pair of grungy-looking denim jeans and wondered if the day could get any worse than it already was.

-o-

By the time she had gotten dressed and made it out the door of the dance studio owned by her mother, Tsukina was well over two hours late for school. And no matter how hard she tried to understand it, no matter how hard she tried to view it in most positive light possible; she just couldn't figure out why her mother had let her oversleep like that. It made absolutely no sense. She knew how important school was to her. Why would her own mother do something like that? Especially when Tsukina was risking her academic future just to please her!

That thought was at the top of Tsukina's head as she ran toward the stopped bus next to the white and black sign. She found herself waiting after she had arrived, impatiently standing there as other people exited the large and noisy vehicle. Sighing audibly, Tsukina took the time to pull the backpack from her shoulder. Holding it in front of her, she opened it and reached in to retrieve her transit card. After the last person had disembarked, Tsukina stepped onto the bus, hastily handed the driver her card so he could check it and then made her way to one of the front seats when he had given it back to her. Removing her backpack from her shoulder, she set it down and slid it next to the wall of the bus. Then she sat down and took as deep of a breath as she could without gagging on the strong scent of diesel fuel. Leaning back, Tsukina closed her eyes and let her mind wander as the bus pulled away from the Transit Stop.

Why can't she understand? Why doesn't she see that I want something that I can call my own? Why does she hate Dad so much? What'd he ever do to her? I…I want to love her. But…But she won't let me in. What's she so scared of? Why is she so obsessed? Why can't I just be a…a daughter to her? Why can't she –

The sudden and malicious jarring of motion that accompanied the bus driver slamming as hard as he could on the brakes practically threw Tsukina from her seat. Barely managing to catch herself by grabbing hold of the seat rail in front of her, she held against it tightly until the bus came to a complete stop. From the driver's seat, she could hear the old man there cursing loudly as he shook his fist at the cause of the abrupt stop. Curious, Tsukina stood up and peered over the driver's shoulder. Through the windshield, she could see a strange-looking Japanese boy standing there in the middle of the road; red cap on his head and golden rollerblades on his feet. In his right hand, a golden bat that was bent at a forty-five degree angle near its blunt end. Their eyes locked. Suddenly, Tsukina felt very insecure and small; aware of everything that was being said about her behind her back. Insults and rumors. Lies and half-truths. True feelings and hidden pains. All of it was laid out before her. Tsukina's heart pounded in her chest. Sweat beaded in thin lines along her forehead. Her clothing felt too tight, constricting. Like her mother's strict training and rigid adherence to be something that she could never be again. Like the endless pressure she placed upon herself to get good grades so she wouldn't be trapped in a life she despised. She could not breath! Everything seemed to be spinning. What…was…happening…? The world around her dimmed and the last thing that she saw was that boy smiling at her as he skated off…

"HEY!"

Tsukina shook visibly at the loud voice that was being directed at her. What the…? What…what happened to that boy? The one on the middle of the street. Wait a minute…wasn't the bus…stopped? What the hell is going on!

"HEY YOU!" the bus driver shouted out again, sounding more and more agitated each time he raised his voice. "You need to sit down! You can't be standing up while the bus is in motion, kid! Got rounds to make, you know! And I can't do that if you're standing there! Last thing I need is for you to fall and hit your head or something, Lord knows I don't need that on my conscience! So sit the hell down before I stop and put you off my bus!"

She just stood there for a moment, completely unsure of what she should do. She was sure that there had been a weird looking Japanese boy in the middle of the street wearing a pair of golden inline skates and holding the same colored bat. She was also certain that the bus had been stopped. But…but it hadn't been stopped. Had it? It…it had been in motion this whole time? She…she had been standing this whole time? What the hell was going on!

"Kid," the bus driver practically snarled. "I ain't gonna tell you again! SIT DOWN!"

Tsukina quickly took her seat again, not wanting to raise the ire of the elderly bus driver any further than it already was. "Sorry," she stated just loud enough for the driver to hear over the groaning of gears and rumbling of the engine. He waved a dismissive hand back in her direction, but said nothing as he concentrated on guiding the oversized vehicle down the traffic-laden street. Leaning back uncomfortably in her tattered seat, Tsukina wondered if her mind was beginning to crack under the all stress she'd been putting herself under lately. Was it worth it? The additional complications of trying to both appease her desire to be something more than just another high school graduate – another face in the crowd – and earn her mother's seemingly unattainable love; was it really worth all of the trouble it was causing? All the pain?

Sighing faintly, she turned toward the window and gazed out. The dull, featureless brick buildings of Northwest Portland pass by at an achingly slow pace. It seemed as if the bus driver had taken an exception to her standing after all. At the rate the bus was traveling, it would take her the rest of the day to get to school! But that was something that she couldn't afford. Not with final exams looming so close. And especially with the way her grades had been lately. If she didn't pass all of them, there was no way that she would make it to the twelfth grade! Something that she could not let happen, no matter what. Allowing herself to become lost in the passing scenery, Tsukina slipped away slowly into her own little dream world. A place the was slowly becoming more real to her than her waking life.

Everything is going to turn out just fine. I might be late today, but Principal Bancroft will understand. He always understands. And if I miss some of the more important notes from my classes, I'm sure that Lise will be willing to share hers with me. So yeah, everything should be just fine. I'll study extra hard today in the library, then go home late and try to get Mom to train me again. I have to make her understand that I love her.

In the smudged and dirty windowpane, a shadowy image appeared behind her. Tsukina paid it no attention as she continued to daydream about her perfect life, her mind beginning to fray at the rapid thoughts. Inside her head, something began to unravel.

I will devote myself to the dance for her and make her proud of me. I'll show her that I can be exactly what she wants me to be. I'll make her accept me and love me. And then, she'll become the perfect mother that I always wanted.

The dull image to her rear took on a more defined and pronounced shape as Tsukina settled deeper into her deluded dream world. A large smile painted itself maliciously across the pale face under the rim of a red baseball cap with three large, circular pins on it.

I will be her little dancer, and I'll make her happy. And she'll love me for it. Of course, I'll graduate too! And Mom will be there, cheering me on. Because she loves me. She'll always love me.

Slowly, the figure to her rear solidified. For a moment, it paused in what it was about to do and looked down curiously at itself. It's smile lessened a bit, as if realizing something that it hadn't before then shook it off. Raising an oblong object bent near the middle up and pulling back it's arm slowly, that wicked grin returned and grew even wider.

I'll go on to college to make me happy because I deserve a life outside of the dance.

The reflection's arm reared back even further. Tsukina continued on with her delirious and dizzying thoughts. Something seemed…wrong in her head.

And I'll go on dancing because that's what will make Mom love me. That's what will keep her close to me. Make her happy to make me happy to make her happy to make me happy.

A crazed smile creased Tsukina's lips as the arm holding the twisted bat rushed forward. It was the life she always wanted! The perfect life! That's where she wanted to be!

Make her happy to make me happy. Make her happy to make me happy. Make her happy to make me –

There was a sharp blow to the back of her head. It threw her forward uncontrollably. A slight smile quirk her lips as Tsukina's face cracked hard against the double-paned glass. Then all was black.

oOo

Tsukina rose from the hard wood floor of the dance studio with a scream. Pushing herself up quickly, she backpedaled away from the large display panes of the studio's windows. She didn't stop until she was huddled up against the wall – and even that didn't seem to be enough to shake away that hideous dream she just had. Late for school? Riding a transit bus to get there on time? The boy with the bat and the rollerblades. Behind her. Hitting her. Why had she been…been smiling? And why didn't she try to stop him? It had been a dream, hadn't it?

Something was tickling at her mind, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. That boy, why did he seem so familiar to her? The cap, the bat, the rollerblades; all of it tugged at a memory lodged somewhere in the back of her head. Something that had happened in Tokyo somewhere around two years ago. Her Mom had told her about it when she had first arrived back in the States after returning from a trip to visit her family in Osaka. Back when the woman was still speaking to Tsukina like a daughter and not an errant student of the dance. Something about how the city had almost been destroyed by…by… By a boy with a bat?

Tsukina laughed nervously to herself as she looked up tentively at the pristine panes of glass and the dimly lit street and buildings beyond them. That's just stupid! A boy with a bat nearly destroying Tokyo? That doesn't make any sense at all! How could one scrawny little kid with a bat take down a city as big as Tokyo? Mom must've been joking with me. She had to be! But still…why was I dreaming about such a freaky looking kid? And why did…

The sound of slow, heavy footfalls on the wooden staircase pulled Tsukina from her odd thoughts. Before she could even collect herself enough to be presentable to her mother, the lights came on, then Asashi stepped off the last stair and calmly turned to face her daughter with compassionless eyes. "Is it your truest wish, Tsukina, to have the neighboring businesses complaining about screams and other noises coming from this studio in the middle of the night?" she questioned in a rough, none too kind tone. "Do you hate me so much that you would try to cripple the only source of income for us?" Folding her robed arms across her chest rigidly, Asashi frowned down at Tsukina. Her brown eyes narrowed darkly. "Well, are you going to answer me or not? Sitting there like an idiot isn't going to help us remedy this situation any sooner, is it?"

Tsukina glowered over at her mother, hidden feelings slowly beginning to simmer to the surface. "I had…had a bad dream," she uttered miserably, choking down the urge to raise her voice to the woman who had taken care of her after her father had put a bullet through his temple. Returning her eyes to the windows in front of her and pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her long arms around them easily. The faint, sour scent of old sweat touched her small nose nauseatingly. She really needed to take off that leotard. "It…it was just a stupid dream, that's all. Sorry to wake you." That last sentence she threw out icily.

Asashi's eyes grew cold for a moment, then slowly – forcibly – warmed. "Look Tsukina," she began, smoothing out the rear of her robe and seating herself on the second step of the staircase. "I'm not going to coddle you just because you had a bad dream. That was something that your father always did. Something he did far too much." Pausing, Asashi stared at the large window of the studio as well. At that moment, it was the only thing she shared in common with her daughter. "Keizou always was too soft-hearted. Never wanting to hurt anyone's feelings, always trying to spare the other person any kind of pain; that was his biggest failing." Asahi raised a hand and expertly pushed back the stray strands of hair that had fallen in her face back behind an ear. Her thin lips quivered into a slight smile, however. "I think that is one of the reasons why I hate him."

Tsukina lifted her head from its resting place against the top of her kneecaps and glared hard eyes at her mother.

"What right do you have to hate him," she practically hollered as that previous feeling of anger went from a simmer to a boil. Leaning both of her legs flat against the floor, she turned her entire body toward Asashi. "All I've ever heard you do is badmouth him like he was less than nothing! You didn't care about him! You've never cared about him! You're happy that he killed himself! Aren't you? Aren't you!"

Asashi crooked her head toward her glowering daughter, her own eyes tight with emotion. "You're wrong, girl. I have every right in the world to hate him. He left me alone here to raise you! He shot himself in the head without worry or fear of the consequences that his actions would bring! Don't you understand, Tsukina! He left me here alone to raise a daughter! One that wasn't even my own!" As soon as the words had come out, Asahi hands flew up to her mouth like frightened pigeons.

And all at once, Tsukina's world shattered. Every daydream of her perfect life with a mother who loved her vanished. She rose from the floor with a stunned, exasperated look plastered across her paling face. Her mind was reeling. Her heart was pounding. She could hear the blood rushing through her veins. She could feel herself taking two involuntary steps back from her 'mother's' direction. "N-No…you're l-lying," Tsukina stammered as she groped at the waist-high wall railing. Her knees were getting weaker. She could not seem to catch her breath. It came from her mouth in quick, unsteady gasps. "Y-You're just… You c-can't… W-Why would… No… T-Tell me the…the t-truth… STOP LYING TO ME!" Tsukina's knees gave out. She fell hard to the floor and grabbed at her head as Asashi rose from the stairs and took a few tenuous steps towards her adopted daughter. The images of that strange Japanese boy with the twisted, golden bat slowly took a shadowy shape in her mind. It raised the oblong object like a weapon and swung it down. Her head jolted upward as she threw her hands harshly, palm-first, onto the studio floor. Looking up with furious and confused eyes, Tsukina screamed in the woman's direction; a woman she thought she knew. "NO! You just…just… S-STAY...STAY AWAY FROM ME! L-LEAVE ME ALONE! JUST…J-JUST GO AWAY! I-I WANT YOU TO G-GO AWAY!"

Before Asashi could take another step toward her, or before she could utter another sentence, Tsukina pulled herself back up to her feet as best she could and ran for the front door. In her head, that grinning boy with the bat began to laugh. Was he getting… Why did he seem… Lies! Everything was full of lies! Even her mind was turning against her! Turning the knob and flinging it open wildly, she bolted out into the street uncaring of any cars that might be traveling down it at the late hour. Hobbling after Tsukina as best she could without her cane, Asashi slowly chased after her.

-o-

The tears that were rolling down Tsukina's cheeks felt warm, which was a direct contrast to what she was feeling inside. You're wrong girl. How could…how could he not tell her! Why didn't he tell her! Why did he hide it from her! They were… Her father and her… They were supposed to be close…! WHY!