Warnings: None


Lucky Child

Chapter 12:

"Gloriously Ordinary"


Genkai's hair was a cross between cotton candy and cobweb, and it crowned her gnarled, peach pit face like a technicolor lion's mane. Her hands had age spots like a cheetah, and her clothes were like something out of an old samurai movie.

Her eyes, meanwhile, gleamed as sharp as tiger claws. I got the sense she missed nothing—especially when she looked me up and down, scowled, and said: "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"

Her voice rattled like wind through dry reeds. I bowed, because I was supposed to and despite the ache in my hips and knees. Climbing the stairs to her temple had taken the better part of an hour. The train ride, bus trip, and walk prefacing those stairs took most of the day. I tried not to show my fatigue, though. Thank god I'd taken up jogging over the past few years and developed decent stamina. Luckily I'd mopped the sweat from my brow just before passing below the Shinto arch over the top of the steps. The nearest paper door of the temple had rattled open the second I stepped beneath its shade…and there she'd stood.

Genkai.

Famed spiritualist, reiki healer, and martial arts master.

She'd walked over, step by purposeful step, until she stood only a few feet away. She was short, but not as short as the anime's exaggerated portrayal. Maybe a clean five foot nothing to my five foot four? Even so, I shrank beneath her gaze. She was intimidating in a way indescribable, air around her vibrating with tension I could taste.

She was so cool, it almost hurt.

Nervous and excited, my knees started shaking—and not from the arduous climb.

"My name is Yukimura Keiko," I told her. "I seek your guidance regarding a certain matter."

One side of her mouth hitched. One sparse brow rose toward her hairline. Though I tried not to read into the crotchety woman's expression, I got the sense she was not impressed by what she saw. Not that I expected her to be impressed. I was in every way ordinary. Not like her. She was amazing.

"And what certain matter might that be?" she asked.

I'd rehearsed what I'd say a dozen times. I thought I was ready to seek her out and voice my wishes—but under the weight of her imperious stare, the words fled.

"I—I've heard of your reputation, Genkai-san," I stammered. "You're a healer and a fighter and you use spirit energy to do it. Your expertise—"

A chuff of derisive air burst from her nose. "Somebody's made you a fool. There's no such thing as reiki." She lifted her hands, showing me her calloused palms. "A fighter, sure. But the other stuff's just legend."

Ah. Well, now. I had wondered if she'd deny having powers. No way would she show supernatural abilities to any old girl off the street. Probably would deny any and all links to the paranormal unless she knew those around her were already in-the-know. Luckily I'd come prepared in case she played dumb in front of a seemingly normal teenager.

Little did she know I was not a normal teen.

I said, "So the Spirit Wave Orb is just a myth, then?"

Her eyes shot open, showing the tracery of red veins marring her sclera. I was taking a gamble with this, but I saw no other way to get her attention. Hopefully she didn't, you know…kick my ass for knowing too much.

Yikes.

"How do you know about that?" she asked with palpable disdain. "That's a secret, one I've shared with no one...least of all you."

"I know," I said. "You've been developing the Orb in secret for years now."

Alarm tightened the sagging skin around her mouth. Only belatedly did I realize her body had shifted along with her eyes, feet widening as her center of gravity lowered. She hadn't outright transitioned into attack mode, thank my lucky stars. I was walking a dangerous line. One wrong word—one hint too much—and she had the power to kill me with a sneeze.

My own stance shifted in response. Not that my pathetic defenses could stand up to her…

"How could you possibly know about the Orb? You're not even psychic." If I wasn't so aware of how dangerous she was, I probably would've found her accusatory expression humorous. "You're as spiritually aware as a potato!"

I winced. "That's…sort of why I'm here."

"As I said before: what's this 'certain matter' you keep yakking about?"

I hesitated. Genkai scowled.

"Well, out with it, girl," she snapped. "I'm an old woman, but I'm busier than I look."

I forced a smile. "My apologies. It's just—I was hoping you knew a way to change that. The potato-thing, I mean."

She frowned. I took a deep breath.

I asked: "I was hoping you could make me psychic."


Genkai led me indoors, into a five-tatami room with a gigantic Buddha sculpture sitting against one wall. It towered above us with expression serene as Genkai made tea over a burner and lit incense at the Buddha's feet. The room felt familiar, like maybe it had been shown in the anime once, but I wasn't sure. Smoke drifted past the god's smiling face like a ghost passing to heaven.

"So. Who are you?"

I flinched, shifting atop my calves. I'd sat next to the low table bearing the tea burner in stiff, formal seiza.

"I'm no one of consequence," I told her.

She snorted again. "You're a poor liar."

"If only you knew."

A sharp look. I sighed.

"My name is Yukimura Keiko—"

"You already told me."

"—but that hasn't always been my name."

That got her attention, although she hid it well. She began preparing the matcha, eyes locked on the powder as she forced it through a sieve with a smooth stone. Although she kept her eyes fixed on the bamboo chasen as she whisked the matcha with water, every so often her eyes flickered my way. Eventually she set the tea aside, crossed arms and legs, and glared.

"Explain," she said.

"I don't want to tell you everything. It could…complicate things."

"You've got a snowball's chance in hell of getting my help if you aren't honest with me."

I smiled, which seemed to surprise her (or confuse her, judging by her furrowed brow). This was the Genkai I knew and loved: brusque, crass, and direct. I'd spent less than an hour in her company and I was already in love with her, even when she snapped at me.

"Why are you smiling like a fool?" Genkai groused.

"Just—you live up to the hype."

"Start there."

It was my turn to look confused. Genkai rolled impatient eyes.

"Tell me how you heard of me, dimwit." Before I could reply, she held up a hand. "No. Let me guess. A martial arts master. You've had training."

I blinked, incapable of reply. That brought a smirk to Genkai's lips.

"I tensed out there. Moved my feet. You saw, and you shifted your weight onto your back foot." Her eyes shined like tiger claws again. "You've been trained. I assume this teacher of yours told you about me. That's when you sought me out."

Dude. Whoa. How'd she know all of that? When I'd first concocted the idea of seeking psychic powers, I'd immediately thought of Genkai, but she was not an easy person to find. Took me quite a while to find a sensei at my aikido dojo who knew her name, let alone where to find her…and then they just had a general idea of which mountain range she called home. I'd spent weeks cross-referencing the locations of temples with records of privately owned land deeds to pinpoint where she might be hiding. Finding a route there had taken even more time.

"You are correct, Genkai-san," I said, "but he didn't tell me of your existence. Just what mountains you lived in." I smiled. "I knew of you already."

Genkai harrumphed, then served tea in two earthenware mugs. True to her exacting standards, it tasted fantastic—better than any green tea I'd had before, in fact, and not at all bitter. Leave it to Genkai…

We sipped the brew in silence. It soothed my throat and wound into my limbs with refreshing heat. Genkai cradled her mug in both hands, eyeing me with…was that curiosity? Hard to tell in this dim light. Sunlight streamed in the open door, but we sat just outside its reach. The burner on the table turned Genkai's eyes to glittering garnet.

"So how did you know of me, then?" Genkai said.

I closed my eyes. This was the tough part. How much should I tell her? How much would suffice to get me what I wanted?

Time to fall back on the script I'd prepared.

"Before I was Keiko," I told her, "I was someone else. Someone who knew of you."

I opened my eyes. Outright alarm stained her features.

"You didn't know the person I was," I assured her. "My old self had no vendetta against you. We were strangers." I couldn't help but smile. "In fact, I thought you were fictional."

"Fictional?"

"You were…a character from a legend." I suspected Genkai would prefer a legend to a cartoon series. "When I died in my old life, I was reborn here. That's when I became this woman, Keiko. She was part of the legend from my old life, too."

Genkai mulled that over for a time. Then she put down her teacup.

"Let me get this straight," she said. "You died, and you were reborn into a legend I'm a character in. And you were reborn as another character from that legend."

"Yes. And that's why I know about things I shouldn't, like the Orb. They were part of the legend." I pressed my palms to the floor and bowed, head brushing the tatami. "Forgive me for this invasion of privacy. I couldn't help it."

She said nothing. My neck began to crick, but I waited for her to speak before rising from my bow.

"I'd write you off as a delusional lunatic, but you know about the Orb." Understanding dawned. "That's why you started with the Orb. You knew I'd dismiss you if you started with such a preposterous story."

"Pretty much, yeah."

We lapsed back into silence. It lasted until Genkai finished her tea and set her mug aside. I drained mine, too, to eliminate distractions.

"So, then," she rasped. "Are you from the future, reborn in the past? Because my exploits aren't worth passing to future generations and I feel sorry for anyone who has to hear about them." She scowled. "If you tell me they sing idiotic songs about me in the future—"

I shook my head, suppressing a laugh. "No. Nothing like that."

"Then what? If you aren't from the future, then where?"

I hesitated. Genkai's eyes were too intense for silence. What could I possibly say, when I myself did not know the truth?

Eventually I settled on, "Far as I can tell, I might be from another world. Not Spirit or Demon World, but another one, where you're nothing more concrete than a story." I shrugged. "I don't have the answers, and before you call me useless, I'm just as pissed off about it as you are. This whole thing has been a pain in my ass."

Genkai laughed, but she sobered quickly.

"Tell me," she said. "What part of the legend were you reborn into?"

I didn't know what she meant, so I kept silent.

She sighed. "Dimwit. I'm asking if you know my future, as well as my past."

I averted my eyes. But keeping quiet didn't throw her off the scent.

"You do know. Interesting." A sly smirk. "Now I see why you were reluctant to talk."

I frowned. "You do?"

"I'm old, but I'm no fool. You're afraid of changing things about this legend of yours. That's why you won't talk. You won't risk giving me clues."

I said nothing. Saying anything was dangerous. Genkai was too sharp. Smart though I was, I wasn't like her. I couldn't avoid giving away clues if I opened my big mouth.

"Seems your respect for the legend has some limits, though." She reached for the tea and began preparing another cup. "Was Keiko psychic in this legend of yours? I'm guessing not."

This woman was a monster. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep a hysterical laugh at bay.

"Correct," I said. "Being psychic was not part of her legend."

"I see. So you don't respect the entire legend, then. Not the parts you occupy, at least. Which prompts the question of why. Why do you want spiritual awareness?" The swishing of the chasen grated like fingers on a locked door. "If that power wasn't meant to be Keiko's, why seek it out?"

I gave her the most honest answer I could: "To make myself useful."

"And you don't think you can be useful without it?"

"I know I can't." Everything in the world of Yu Yu Hakusho hinged upon spiritual awareness.

"Was the original Keiko useless without it?"

I started to say yes, of course she'd been useless…but then I thought about it, and the truth stopped me.

Keiko hadn't been a fighter. That was indisputable. But she saved Yusuke from a fire, brought him back to life, gave him the strength to best Suzaku, and supported him even when no one else would. She wasn't useful in battle, sure, but could I honestly say she'd been utterly useless in all scenarios?

Some fans I'd interacted with in the Yu Yu Hakusho fandom might say so. But now, after living in her shoes, I saw how much people depended on Keiko. Atsuko and Yusuke in particular would be lost without her.

Keiko wasn't powerful. But that didn't make her unimportant.

Even so…I wanted to be more than just important. I wanted to stand on my own two feet.

I wanted to kick ass.

I sat up and leaned forward, placing my hand atop the table.

"Please, Genkai-san. Can you do it?" I pleaded. "Can you make me psychic?"

She took a long draught of her fresh tea. My fingers tightened around my mug, digits slick with anticipation. When she met my eyes, she did not smile.

"I have two questions," she said. "The first is why you're unwilling to change my fate, but are willing to change your own fate. Or rather, the fate of the character whom you've become." Her mouth thinned into a withered line. "Doesn't seem fair that you can change destiny, but I can't."

Despite her mild tone, my cheeks burned.

"Keiko," I ground out, "is a damsel."

Genkai quirked a brow.

"I," I said, "am no damsel. Which is why I'm here today." I inclined my head. "My old self, my real self, was not the type to sit on the sidelines. And that is where the Keiko of this legend always sits. She's useful there, and she's important in her role—but that's not the role I want to play."

"Interesting." Genkai then pinned me with a stare so contemptuous a chill skittered up my spine. "Were you always this conceited, or is that character trait all Keiko's?"

The air left me in a rush. It was like a giant had grabbed my chest in his fist and squeezed.

In that moment, I forgot how to breathe.

"Don't look so shocked. Makes you seem stupid." Her casual tone did not mirror the flinty hardness in her eyes. "It's obvious. You think you're worth more than Keiko."

My tongue felt like lead. "That's not—"

"Isn't it, though?" Her voice boomed like an irate thunderhead. "You want to change Keiko because you've judged Keiko as inferior, and you think you deserve more than she got."

"I didn't—"

"You judged her to be damsel in distress, decided you were better than her, and are making alterations to fit the scope of your pride—"

My hand spasmed. Next thing I knew, I was on my knees. My mug fell to the floor with a clatter.

"I don't think Keiko is inferior, dammit!"

Genkai's mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth. My hand clapped over my mouth. We traded a look—hers cool, mine aghast—until her lips curled into a smile.

"Finally. Some emotion." A long taste of tea. "You've been as emotive as a robot until now. Now pick up your cup and sit down. I've no patience for dramatics."

I did as she asked. Luckily I'd already finished my tea; I'd be terminally embarrassed if I stained her nice tatami mats. Genkai drank in silence until I'd gotten my breathing back under control and found the composure to speak.

"I don't think Keiko is inferior to me," I said when I was calm. "In fact, in most ways, she's far superior."

"And how's that?" Genkai asked. She picked at her sleeve with disinterested fingers, a bored cat idly flicking its tail. "Enlighten me."

"She's kinder. More patient. More forgiving. Athletic, too." I attempted a joke, though it sounded desperate even to me. "Her brain lets me get way better grades, that's for sure."

Genkai didn't look at me. I sighed.

"She cares for people in ways I was never selfless enough to care," I said. "She's humble, where I was prideful. She's forgiving, where I was vindictive. And people care about her, because she cares so much about them. None of that's me. All of that's her."

I ducked my head. My hands sat still and steady atop my thighs. In my old life, I'd be tearing bloody wounds into the skin around my nails at a time like this. I'd be sweating, heart pounding, mouth dry, on the verge of a panic attack when confronted with scrutiny and criticism like Genkai's.

Keiko, meanwhile, remained composed.

"I had an anxiety disorder in my past life," I murmured. "I struggled with disordered eating. Keiko has a sort of…a sort serenity to her that I never had. I'm grateful every day for her."

A noise, a soft click, drew my gaze. Genkai had set her mug upon the table. Seems I'd earned her attention now.

"She never backed down from anything life threw at her." I smiled, rueful. "Bad boyfriend, psychotic teachers, demonic kidnappers. Even demons she didn't balk in the face of."

When it came down to it, Keiko was brave. She was brave for sticking by Yusuke, when he was so unreliable. Brave for standing up to demons when she was just a normal girl. Brave in ways only being her had revealed to me.

People in the Yu Yu Hakusho fandom always made fun of Keiko. They insulted and dismissed her, claiming she deserved their ire for the sin of not being…what, a fighter? Was that all it took to be hated?

To tell all truth, I'd joined in on the Keiko-bashing. I hadn't hated her, but I hadn't thought of her kindly, either. Now, though, I didn't think my previous criticisms were warranted. She was a normal girl in an abnormal situation. She reacted to her circumstances as heroically as she could.

If Keiko had one meager failing, it was a lack of ambition in this particular scenario. A lack of desire to get strong the way her friends were in Yu Yu Hakusho. But that's where I had an advantage Keiko lacked: Keiko never knew the supernatural existed, not until long after her friends became strong. She never had the opportunity to change her fate, because she hadn't known her fate could be changed.

I, however, knew what was possible. And I had the ambition to pursue those possibilities.

If there was one thing I could do better than Keiko, it was act on ambition.

But ambition wasn't strength. And I didn't know if, when push came to demonic shove, I'd have the same strength she did: the strength to be ordinary in the face of the extraordinary.

"Even in the face of demons, when she was nothing more than a human girl, she didn't show fear," I said once I swam from the depths of my reverie. "Keiko was brave, to face things that were stranger and stronger than her without flinching. When she found out demons existed, she plunged right in without fear, because she knew her friends would need her." I looked back at my still, calm hands, taking comfort in their steadiness. "She's not scheduled to meet a demon for a while now. But when I think about demons, about facing them as a weak little human…"

Genkai spared me any euphemisms when she said: "You're scared."

"Try terrified."

A grumpy harrumph. "One could argue the only reason the other Keiko wasn't scared, and you are, is because she didn't know how dangerous demons were, but you do. One could argue her bravery was merely ignorance."

"One could. But I won't make that argument."

I looked at Genkai as frankly as I knew how. Whether or not my earnestness showed on my face, I couldn't say—but I meant every word I said to her.

"Genkai, I'm not changing Keiko because I think she's inferior." My cheeks flamed. I hated saying it aloud, but it was the truth, and the truth deserved to be stated. "I'm changing her because without powers, I don't think I can be as strong as she was."

I needed psychic powers to be half as brave as the purely, gloriously ordinary Yukimura Keiko.

Genkai did not speak, for a time long enough to make me think she didn't believe me. For once my hands twisted in on themselves, a nervous habit from my past following me into my present.

I flinched when Genkai chuckled. She closed her eyes, drained her cup of tea, and set it on the table with a clack.

"Much as I think you're an arrogant ass, that monologue of yours was actually humble. I admire your grit, if nothing else." Her eyes closed. She smiled. "Color me shocked. You're not a total egotist, after all."

That…I wasn't expecting to hear.

"R-really?" I stuttered. "I feel less like I have grit and more like I'm just, well, gritty. I've been wondering since I got here if what I'm doing is ethical. Wondering if I could change her fate, or if I was obligated to live the life she lived—"

Dark eyes flashed. Genkai waved as though swatting an annoying fly.

"I've got no patience for this navel-gazing," she snapped. "Obligation, ethics, morals. I'm neither hero nor philosopher. Far as I'm concerned, your fate is your own. Grab it and run. Makes no difference to me."

Her matter-of-fact attitude left me speechless. I jumped when she stood up and brushed her hands down the front of her robe.

She said: "Follow me."

Took me a while to find the will to move, but eventually I scrambled to my tingling feet and stumbled after her out of the temple. She walked to the middle of the courtyard and stood there with hands clasped behind her back. When I tripped to a stop behind her, feet buzzing as my circulation returned, she rounded on me and scowled.

"Now for my second question: why should I make you a psychic?"

I couldn't stop my heart from leaping at that implication. Was she admitting she was willing to grant my wish, if she so chose? Ugh, stop analyzing everything and just answer the question, Not-Keiko!

"You should make me a psychic because—I'm asking you to?" I said. I hated that I phrased it as a question and breathed a curse. This logic was weak and I knew it. Still, I soldiered on. "Yeah. You should do it because I'm asking."

Her eyes narrowed. "Do you think you deserve more power?"

"Um. Tough to say, I guess? I certainly think I want it. I know what I'm getting into, and I'm willing to accept the risks that come with it, if that's what you're worried about. I think that should be enough to warrant—"

Genkai's feet scraped across the pavement. She hunkered down, hands raised before her in tight fists, center of gravity low and deadly—a tiger crouched and ready to leap.

"Defend yourself," she said.

"What?" I said.

I didn't have time to feel anything more than stunned surprise at what happened next. Out of nowhere Genkai launched forward, right fist hurtling toward my face far faster than any punch I'd ever seen in my entire goddamn life, lynx hurting toward hapless rabbit, and it was all I could do to haphazardly throw up my arm and try to knock her strike off-center, brain reeling with the vague notion that wow, OK, time to make peace with the universe because I was prooooobably about to die (again, dammit) and that wasn't fair—

Then knuckles collided with my cheek, and darkness chased the image of Genkai's dispassionate face from view.


NOTES:

Yay for Genkai punching Keiko in the face! But WHY?

I've alluded to it before, but I have an anxiety disorder and struggle with eating. If I found myself in a new body not predisposed to anxiety and eating disorders, I'd feel grateful. If also feel uncomfortable about my own gratitude. My conditions are part of my identity, and I've turned them into positives, but life would be convenient without them...hence feeling conflicted.

Many thanks to those who reviewed since my last update: rya-fire1, buzzk97, Mein Benutzername, DarkDust27, FireDancerNix, DiCuoreAllison, Marian, Kuroyuki no Ryu, Miqila, reebajee, shadstheloler, AFC, Tay, and two nameless guests!