A few more chapters...I may not be able to upload others until the weekend, because I'm finally getting over my illness (I hope), and I'll be busy with work. But more will come, never fear! We're still in the flashback zone...
Disclaimer: FB belongs to Natsuki Takaya, and anything else you recognize also doesn't belong to me.
Chapter 34
"Ah, crap," groaned Zhula, "the weather's changed again. Looks like we'll have to wait before we head home." The blonde ex-gangster slouched over her desk, chin in hand. Zhula, Hanadzima, Lhoru, Huki and Lhadoman were all currently in study hall, but their proctor was more preoccupied with writing his masterwork rather than keeping the class quiet. Everybody could talk as long as the noise stayed at a reasonable level. It made having study hall during the last period of the day more bearable.
Outside, the wind had picked up significantly, and dark gray clouds gathered and thickened.
"Hopefully it'll pass over," Huki said from behind Zhula. "We've had a lot of quickie storms this spring."
"It's been quite turbulent for a Hothan spring," remarked Hanadzima, sitting next to Huki, retouching her black nail polish and completely ignoring her literature homework.
"Yes, I can't remember the last time we had so many storms in one season," agreed Lhoru, relieved for a break from math. Lhadoman merely kept reading a martial arts guidebook. Lhoru glanced out the window and frowned. "Maybe this is what they call a 'harithe spring.'"
The speaker system crackled, then the principal cleared her voice loudly, eliciting a round of giggling from students throughout the school.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" The urgent tone snapped everybody back to attention. "The Hoth Weather System has posted a land harithe warning. The harithe is in its early stages right now. No one is to leave the building without my express permission. Repeat: no one is to leave the building until the harithe ends. Teachers, make sure all the shutters and curtains are closed in your classrooms. Afterwards, all students will fetch their books and personal items from their lockers, and proceed calmly to the following places: First years to the theater, and second and third years to the gymnasium. All homeroom teachers will check in with their students. Remember, do not panic. It will be fine. We will give you updates over the loudspeaker every so often. Also, if you need to make any phone calls, call sooner rather than later because the winds may knock out lines."
An excited buzzing arose from the students, some worried and frightened, others curious. Because harithes were rare, many students couldn't remember the last one, which occurred when they were only three to five years old.
"Where the fuck did a harithe come from?" growled Lhadoman. "Zhula, get out of my way!" He was trying to bring a stiff-hinged shutter around.
"Shut up, stupid, you'll break the goddamn shutter like that!" Zhula violently elbowed Lhadoman aside, and successfully coaxed the ornery shutter into place and latched it.
"Here's the duct tape for securing the shutter," Huki said, tossing a roll to Zhula.
"Thanks, kid," called Zhula. "And for your information, Lhadoman, spring IS harithe season, as also is winter." She placed a long strip of tape down the crack between the two shutter doors.
"I knew that!" snapped the bristling cat.
Noting that their spineless proctor was doing nothing to help with emergency preparations, Huki aided two boys on the other set of windows in the room. They were lucky to have only two sets of windows in their room. He hated to think of what the cafeteria and library were like at the moment—the staff must be racing to cover up those wide windows.
Only Hanadzima noticed how tense Lhoru had become during the announcement. Her knuckles were white from her tightly folded hands, and she stared at the top of her desk.
"Lhoru," said Hanadzima softly, "why don't we go to our lockers and get our stuff? Then we can walk together to the gymnasium and meet everyone else there." To Hanadzima's dismay, Lhoru yielded easily to the hands guiding her shoulders. Normally Lhoru would've protested, insisting that they stay and help the others.
They left the classroom, Hanadzima leading with an arm around Lhoru's shoulder. Students began to emerge from the classrooms, talking and rushing to their lockers. Teachers walked the hallways to maintain order. But Lhoru and Hanadzima formed a bubble, separate from the excitement surrounding them.
During the walk down a flight of stairs and through two hallways, Hanadzima's wave sensor detected terror and overwhelming anxiety gushing from Lhoru, who started trembling slightly as the wind rose one notch higher in pitch. They finally reached their locker bank. Hanadzima turned Lhoru so that they faced each other.
"Lhoru, you're so scared because of what happened to your father, right?"
"I-I…" stammered Lhoru, fighting sobs. Panic flashed in her eyes. "Lhado, Huki…you and Zhula, what if you go out into the storm?"
"No, none of us are going to die, Lhoru," declared Hanadzima firmly, gripping the girl's wrists and forcing her to make eye contact. "Listen to me. This is a land harithe, not a sea harithe. It'll end quickly, and the wind won't get that high. You know that if it were more serious, they'd order us into the basement and not the—"
"L'oru!" Running footsteps and Nharu's frantic yell cut short Hanadzima's ministrations. The normally bubbly boy stopped next to them, panting and visibly alarmed.
"L'oru!" He gasped, trying to catch his breath. Hanadzima could see every blood vessel in Nharu's eyes; they were wide open.
Lhoru's miseries evaporated. "What's wrong?"
"'Aru's gone black! 'E's smashing up t'e classroom! Ei'm going to geit 'Uki and L'ado!" Nharu rushed away from the girls and up the staircase.
"We've got to help, Dzima!" Lhoru decided as she turned the corner into the third wing of the building.
Hanadzima sighed and followed. "What a time to go nuts," she thought as she ran gingerly. Running had always been so distasteful to her.
Other first-year students fled in the opposite direction, away from the crashing noises at the end of the hallway.
"What happened to your teacher?" Hanadzima asked a girl standing dazed in the hallway.
"She left us to help with boarding the cafeteria," answered the girl, intimidated by the older student addressing her.
"Well, get to the theater now, you'll be fine." The girl nodded dumbly and rejoined the exodus. Hanadzima turned and closed the short distance between her and Lhoru, who was standing in front of the classroom's entrance with a hand to her mouth, horrified. Desks had been overturned, and splinters dotted the floor. Pencils, notebooks, backpacks, and other student supplies had been thrown willy-nilly. Luckily the shutters covering the windows were still intact. The scene fascinated Hanadzima in a morbid way. She'd heard stories of Haru's bad temper, and her wave sensor had told her he had unstable elements in his psychology, but she'd never actually seen Haru's black side.
The student in question stood slumped in the far corner, his chest heaving.
"Haru?" tentatively began Lhoru.
"Are you sure this is wise?" Hanadzima hissed to her. Animalistic fury and deep grief were sending the wave sensor into overdrive. "We should leave and let Huki and Lhadoman take care of this." She tood hold of Lhoru's elbow, trying to pull her back gently.
"Oh, you're here," Haru nodded cynically, then sneered at Lhoru. "The one who can make everybody's problems disappear by magic!" To Hanadzima, his threatening stance reminded her of a wild bull menacing intruders on its territory.
"We really should leave," she whispered, keeping an eye on Haru as she pulled a resisting Lhoru further back towards the door.
"You think you can help me, huh?" Haru yelled at Lhoru, who finally began to understood how precarious the situation really was.
"What are you doing here? Shit, what happened?" demanded an angry Mhamu Mahalina, the girls' homeroom and literature teacher. She'd been monitoring the halls, making sure windows were properly covered up and students stayed calm. She was too cranky to refrain from cursing. "The harithe's supposed to be outside, not inside!" Mahalina took one look at the frightened girls slowly backing away from an angry Haru. He'd stopped when he saw Mahalina enter.
"Teacher, we'll handle this," Huki's voice came from behind.
"Fuck, Haru, what did you do?" exclaimed Lhadoman. "Dzima, get Lhoru the hell outta here!"
"Allow me, boys," Mahalina resolutely stepped forward. "Shoma!" she said sternly, addressing Haru. "We're in the middle of a weather emergency. Stop this idiocy now!"
"Teacher, please don't—" begged Huki, seriously fearing for Mahalina's safety. The rat began to follow Mahalina, who was already halfway across the room.
"I don't see any weather emergency," replied Haru insolently, as Mahalina stopped in front of him with her arms crossed.
"Maybe you will now, smartass," she said, and delivered a swift, hard slap to the side of his head. Hanadzima and Lhoru gasped in sync as Lhadoman and Huki froze. Haru stood stunned for a minute, touching the affected spot lightly. The blazing expression in Haru's eyes fizzled to one of surprise.
"Uh…did I do all this?" Huki sighed in relief as he heard the normally monotonous voice of White Haru.
"Yes, but we'll deal with this after the harithe's over," Mahalina said. "All of you, get your butts to the gymnasium now!"
Finally, all the students and staff were gathered into the theater and gymnasium. A bizarre sort of order, mixed with boredom, anxiety, and waiting, prevailed. Students who had initially felt excitement at being caught in a harithe became steadily more disillusioned as the endlessly howling wind grated on their nerves and the building continued to shake slightly from the onslaught of the wind. Both the hellish noise and shaking were impossible to escape.
It was now late afternoon, but the wind had demolished the power system long ago. Flashlight beams cut through both theater and gymnasium. After taking roll call for their homeroom students, the exhausted teachers kept up a steady watch at the exit doors and the hallway connecting the two shelters. They didn't care what else students did as long as it didn't violate propriety and things kept relatively quiet.
Students huddled in small circles with their friends, and a large number were lying down, using bookbags for headrests. Zhula effectively used her former gangster aura to secure a corner of the gym for herself, Lhoru, Hanadzima, Huki, and Lhadoman. Mahalina secured permission for Haru and Nharu to stay with their cousins, managing to evade telling the principal what had happened. Clearly Huki and Nharu were the only people who could deal with Haru at this point.
Huki and Haru sat a ways off from the group and anyone else, along the northern edge of the gym. This edge was not attached to any other structure, so the sound of the wind carried through the wall very easily. Hence the fact that everybody avoided the north wall, and it was the best place for a private conversation at the moment.
Haru sat against the wall, despite Huki's best attempts to draw him away from it. Although the rat knew the wall was two feet thick, the increased volume of the wind had inflamed semi-subconscious fears of the walls collapsing under the wind's onslaught. Huki sighed and tried to think of a way to start.
"Haru," Huki finally said. "Haru!" he yelled after he realized the wind had drowned out his voice the first time.
"Yeah?" grunted Haru, playing with a ring on his finger.
"What's wrong?" Lame beginning, considering how upset Haru clearly was, but it was the best thing Huki could think of.
At first Haru just stared at Huki, and looked back at his ring. The wind quieted almost imperceptibly. An intense feeling of déjà vu surrounded Huki. He could recognize the same hopeless anger and despair that was now sucking Haru into its void. It occurred to Huki, once again, how he would risk drawing Hanadzima into the same void if Asheno ever found out.
"You remember when Rin got hurt, right?" Haru asked in a dull voice.
"Yeah," nodded Huki. He remembered all too well the rage Shehure had been in for a week afterwards—the seething, silent kind. The dog hadn't even bothered to attempt concealing it from Lhoru, and Huki couldn't recall a time when Shehure allowed himself to display that much anger before.
"When I went to visit her over the weekend, she…" Haru choked. "She told me it was over."
"What?"
"She dumped me. She wouldn't really tell me why, just said it wasn't working," His face crumpled, and Haru curled into his knees. His shoulders shook.
"I'm sorry, Haru," Huki said, patting his shoulder, and feeling sorry this was the only comfort he could offer.
"I wish we weren't cursed," spat out Haru.
"Me, too," whispered Huki. Suddenly he became aware of Hanadzima standing quite closely in front of them.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but Lhoru was getting worried and I said I'd check." Hanadzima's face remained as impassive as ever.
"Go back to the others," said Haru, raising his head, "I'd like some time alone."
"Are you sure you'll be okay?" asked Huki.
"Yeah, I won't lose it."
The trip back to the group at the opposite end of the gymnasium seemed eternal to Huki. His mind was torn between observing how gracefully Hanadzima walked, and wondering whether she overheard about the curse.
"Huki! Dzima!" Lhoru stood up, waving wildly. Nharu ran to Huki.
"Is 'Aru okay?" Nharu asked. "Should I go sei 'im?"
"Yes, he's fine, but he wants some time alone." Huki said. After Hanadzima left to talk with Lhoru and Zhula, Huki turned back to Nharu and muttered just loudly enough for the rabbit to hear. "Rin dumped him."
Nharu's eyes widened, but luckily he had the sense not to make a scene over the news in the gym. Lhadoman's face merely soured when Huki told him. The three boys sat together gloomily, forming a separate circle from the girls.
Zhula and Lhoru played cards as best as they could with flashlights, while Hanadzima pretended to watch. Truthfully, Hanadzima was keeping one eye—and her wave sensor—on the boys.
"So there is a curse on the Shoma boys," she thought. "That would explain the weird waves they give off. And the desire for freedom—they all want to be free from the curse." For the first time in a long time, Hanadzima actually felt as depressed as most people thought she looked. "I wonder if there are others? Poor Huki…" A collective groan of disappointment arose from the gym congregation as the wind rose again, dashing hopes of an end to the storm.
Mahalina stood guard in the hallway outside the gym doors with her other best friend, Eghu Dzasa. Dzasa, known for being the tiniest teacher in the school, stood a full foot below Mahalina's shoulder. She had started at Karori the same year as Mahalina, and the two had become fast friends.
"Don't smoke here, Sasa," halfheartedly rebuked Mahalina.
"Lina, honey, with that wind, my nerves need calming, and besides, you shouldn't scold when you don't mean it," smiled Dzasa, taking a deep breath. "Save your strength for those Shoma kids. Funny how you keep running into that family."
"Shit, don't remind me."
"Maybe you should have stayed with that writer after all? What was his name again?" Dzasa raised one black eyebrow. Every Friday, Mahalina and Dzasa would celebrate the end of the week by having alcohol-laced hot chocolate. The older woman would banish her husband from the house for the night, and the two women would then drink and talk. From the first, Dzasa had been intrigued by Mahalina's stories of her shadowy boyfriend.
"Shehure," smirked Mahalina. "Funny you should mention him. We first met during a terrible blizzard. Nothing like today, though."
"You know, the more I think about it," Dzasa said, her voice turning more serious, "the more I wonder how you could have fallen in love with the other one."
"Hathori," Mahalina automatically responded. Dzasa was famous for her inability to remember anybody's name, save her closest relatives and friends. Her students always complained at the beginning of the year, but they got used to it.
"Hathori sounds too boring for the likes of you. He's too much like the man Hana married…you know, that guy."
"Yeah, I agree that Denu is boring." Mahalina stopped, realizing she wasn't at all offended at Hathori being denigrated as wrong for her.
"If I recall correctly, your taste lies more in mysterious men with a touch of danger," smiled Dzasa, crunching her used cigarette against the door of the trashcan and then dropped it in.
"Sasa, movies aren't a good indicator of what kind of men you like," laughed Mahalina.
"Anyway, you always talked about Shehure much more often than Hathori. Do you even think about Hathori anymore?"
"Not really." Mahalina paused. "Well, only when I see Hana with Denu, and remember how happy she was with him, before she had the illness."
"I still don't understand why an illness made Hana break up with Hathori."
Mahalina didn't answer. She'd never told Dzasa about Hana's overwhelming guilt over Hathori's blinded eye, and her subsequent breakdown. The sight of Hana's emaciated face floated in front of Mahalina, and she blinked it away. She'd visited the Shoma estate only once while Hana was suffering the breakdown, and it'd been a painful visit. Back then, she still felt guilty about her crush on Hathori, and it was right after her breakup with Shehure. Shehure had warned her that visiting Hana wasn't a good idea, but she'd begged until he gave in. Come to think of it, it was the only time Shehure had actually comforted her, when she came out crying after seeing Hana.
"That bastard actually smiled nicely at me," Mahalina muttered to herself, shocked at the recollection. Shehure had dated her only to distract her from Hathori, or so he'd said.
"Mahalina?" Dzasa said, trying to regain her friend's attention.
"No, Shehure was never right for me," Mahalina said abruptly. "He never let me find out anything about himself, he wouldn't hug or kiss me, and our dates were farces!"
"Whatever you say," concurred Dzasa, with a knowing look.
Mahalina scowled. "Let's talk about something else."