Warnings: None
Cultural Notes (2): 1/2: Apparently Japan has relatively low autopsy rates compared to other countries due to a combination of cultural and religious reasons (mutilating bodies is often seen as disrespectful). Yusuke lucked out. 2/2: Sticking your chopsticks straight up in a bowl of rice is SUPER bad manners, and is called "tsukitate-bashi" (突き立て箸). At funerals you put chopsticks upright in rice as an offering. You're basically summoning bad luck and spirits when you do it at the dinner table.
Lucky Child
Chapter 20:
"What Scares Me"
Metallic beeping pulsed steady through the stillness. A whoosh of displaced air punctuated the rhythmic beat. Listen hard enough and you could hear the subtle drip of the IV line feeding fluids into Yusuke's arm.
Kuwabara stared at Yusuke's motionless, silent body without speaking.
Eventually he backed up until he hit the wall. He slid down it until he sat, knees to his chest, staring at the comatose body of our once-dead friend through eyes unseeing.
Gently, I asked, "Are you OK?"
Kuwabara's eyes focused. "Oh. Um." He looked at me for helpless reassurance. "I think I'm in shock?"
"Probably," I said. I slid down the wall next to him. "I'll give you a minute."
I'd found Yusuke the day before. His body had been rushed to the nearest hospital for evaluation, Atsuko delightedly screaming and fist-pumping next to me in the back of the ambulance (I wish I had a photo of the EMTs' startled faces). Ten hours of testing later, we were told the EMTs at the scene of Yusuke's car accident must have somehow missed Yusuke's subtle heartbeat, and that if we hadn't found him when we did, he'd likely have died in the next few days—if cremation didn't get him first, of course.
And we let them believe that. It was certainly more believable than the alternative.
Now he lay in the back bedroom at Atsuko's apartment, hooked up to a heart monitor, feeding tube, and breathing apparatus. An IV provided fluids. Nurses came by every few hours to check on him (not to mention change his catheter, which I'm sure Yusuke found embarrassing) but otherwise, there was little to do but sit at his side and wait.
Not that the doctors advocated waiting for him to wake up. They could barely detect brain activity. It was likely he'd never wake up, they said. We shouldn't put too much stock in hope.
They didn't know what I knew, though.
At my side, Kuwabara shifted. He reached toward Yusuke's shoulder, then stopped.
"So many tubes," he said, voice vibrating with nerves beneath the beat of the heart monitor.
"They're necessary," I said. "But yeah. Scary-looking, huh?"
Kuwabara nodded. You could barely see Yusuke's face beneath the plastic ventilator mask. At first I'd been shocked by the sight of all the tubes and medical equipment, just like Kuwabara, but for entirely different reasons than my carrot-topped friend. Yusuke had slept without assistance in the anime. In this world, he needed artificial support. I had no idea why this change had occurred, but honestly, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Even in stasis, you needed fluids and nutrients. I felt safer with him hooked up like this, even if the ventilator looked creepy.
"So he didn't die?" Kuwabara said. "The doctors just…missed his heartbeat?"
"No," I said. "He died."
Kuwabara's brow lifted.
"He died, and he came back."
I told Kuwabara everything about my contact with Yusuke's ghost, just like I'd told Atsuko when we were waiting on Yusuke's tests at the hospital (she'd believed me right off the bat, no questions asked—love that woman). Kuwabara listened without comment, eyes widening with every word.
"So he's coming back for good," he said when I fell quiet. "Not just in a coma forever?"
"Seems that way."
"You're not scared you're wrong?"
"No."
I wasn't scared I was wrong about Yusuke's intention to return—messing up Yusuke's resurrection through my rogue actions is what scared me. But Kuwabara didn't need to know that. He put his hand on his chin and glowered at Yusuke's body.
"You dreamed he was alive. So you went to his body, and it was alive just like you dreamed." His mouth parted, eyes roving over Yusuke as he thought this through. "Huh. I guess that proves your dream was real."
"Seems that way," I repeated.
"Do you often have prophetic dreams?"
Kuwabara looked oddly hopefully when he asked that. His face fell when I shook my head.
"No," I said. "Pretty sure Yusuke's ghost made this happen. I think I was talking directly to him, rather than having any sort of precognitive episode."
His nose scrunched. "Pre-cog…?"
"Seeing the future."
"Ooooh."
"Yeah. This was all Yusuke, not me." I toyed with the toe of my sock, picking at the seam. "He told me he'd be back soon. He has an ordeal to complete, and then we'll have him home again."
"Good thing he wasn't autopsied," Kuwabara muttered.
"Yeah. The guy really lucked out."
In truth, Yusuke's luck could be attributed to a quirk of Japanese culture. Turns out autopsy rates were relatively low in Japan, especially if cause of death was already obvious. Car accidents, as it turns out, are pretty fucking obvious. Yusuke should've been the child named after luck, not me.
"Anyway," I said. "At first I thought I was just dreaming. I thought it was all just wishful thinking…but then I checked, and here he was. Breathing. Heart beating."
I couldn't help but smile at Kuwabara, internally reliving the moment I'd gone down to the funeral home and asked to see my friend's body. The workers hadn't wanted to let me in to see Yusuke, but I put on an Oscar-worthy performance of a grieving girlfriend and managed to score entry.
Contrary to my earlier act, the joy I experienced when I felt Yusuke's pulse flutter beneath my fingertips was wholly genuine. I think Atsuko so readily believed my news when I called her because I sounded so perfectly sincere. Same with my parents. They hadn't asked single question when I called. They just shut down the restaurant, chased out all the patrons, and came running to the hospital. Good ol' Mom and Dad. They'd volunteered to personally help care for Yusuke's body before I suggested we hire in-home nurses, instead. Hospital would foot the bill, I bet. They owed us for nearly killing Yusuke, after all, and would want to avoid a lawsuit…not to mention Atsuko's Yakuza contacts.
She'd never admitted outright to having them, but the big black vans around the hospital that day spoke volumes.
Kuwabara regarded me with gravity. "So he's really coming back?"
"Yeah, Kuwabara." My grin threatened to split my cheeks in half. "He is."
Kuwabara didn't react for a second. Then he sniffed, put a hand over his face, and lurched to his feet.
"Gotta pee," he said.
There was no disguising how thick his words sounded, just as there was no disguising his red-rimmed eyes when he returned from the bathroom.
His heart-melting grin told me that any tears he'd cried were borne of joy.
"So—did he say how long this ordeal of his would take?" he asked, plopping back down on the floor next to me.
"Nope."
"Hmmph!" Kuwabara crossed his legs and gripped his ankles with both hands, nose turning up. "He probably knows, that big old liar."
"Really? How do you figure?"
"He probably knows how long it'll take, but he didn't tell you so he could get the jump on me when he gets back! He's just scared to face me like a real man!" Kuwabara declared. He bent over Yusuke and shook his fist. "Hear that, Urameshi? I know your plan and I won't be caught off guard! Even if you jump me in the middle of class, I'll kick your ass!"
Kuwabara's aggressive scowl barely hid his burgeoning smile. I concealed a smile of my own behind my hair, listening as Kuwabara berated Yusuke for being a tricky son of a bitch. Typical teenage guy, hiding happiness behind hostility and insults. It was honestly adorable. They'd never tell each other to their faces that they admired and respected each other, but it was painfully obvious to me. Man, I was so glad to have Kuwabara by my side in all this. He—
"Hey, Keiko?"
I jerked up, tucking hair behind my ear. "Hmm?"
"When are you coming back to school?" he asked.
I couldn't help but stiffen at his question. I hadn't gone back to Sarayashiki since Yusuke died—mostly because I didn't actually go there anymore. Still hadn't told Kuwabara. He'd stopped by a few times and we'd talked on the phone every day since Yusuke passed, but the moment to tell him had never…well, it never felt right. So I'd kept quiet, for fear of the conversation going really, really wrong.
Bad policy. I knew better than to drag this out. I needed to be blunt.
Well, then. Now seemed as good a time as any.
Just as I drew in a breath to answer, however, Atsuko swaggered into the room. Kuwabara leapt to his feet and bowed, thanking her for letting him visit, but she didn't appear to hear. She only had eyes for Yusuke—happy, glittering eyes that had regained all the piss and vinegar she was famous for, spark rekindled in the presence of her resurrected spitfire son.
"Hey, kids!" she chirped, kneeling next to Yusuke so she could pinch his cheek. "How's my baby boy doing today? Strong and silent as always, I see!"
"His vitals look good," I said.
Kuwabara and Atsuko raised an eyebrow in unison.
"Since when have you been able to read medical equipment?" Atsuko asked.
"I had the nurses explain a few things last time they were here," I said. "Just how to monitor his breathing and heart. Nothing complicated. But they promised they'd show me how to insert an IV next time, so I'll be able to help out and—"
Atsuko started laughing before I could finish.
"You're a chronic over-achiever. What the hell do you see in my boy, anyway?" Atsuko said through her chortles. "Don't waste so much time around here. You've got a life to live, right?" She glanced at her watch. "And aren't you meeting a friend of yours…now-ish?"
When I first arrived at Atsuko's that afternoon, I told her I'd be getting dinner with a friend after I revealed Yusuke's not-corpse to Kuwabara…but surely I hadn't been in here for that long. Right? I thought I had another hour to get to—
I looked at my watch.
My eyes promptly bugged out of my face.
"Oh, shit!" I bolted to my feet at a near sprint, doubling back when I realized I'd forgotten my purse. I dipped hasty bows at both Atsuko and Kuwabara. "Sorry, but I've gotta go!"
"Uh. No problem?" Kuwabara said.
"Come back tomorrow, Keiko!" Atsuko said. When Kuwabara stood and bowed, she grinned at him. "And you too, Kuwabara. It's about time my Yusuke started making more friends, even if he's not awake to enjoy them."
Kuwabara snickered at that. Then his hesitant, oddly hopeful eyes slid my way. "See you tomorrow here, Yukimura?"
"Sure, sure." I waved over my shoulder, unwilling to wait for Kuwabara to put on his shoes and walk with me because I was late, dammit, and the next train was set to leave ASAP. "Bye!"
Hurried through I was, I noted with satisfaction that Kuwabara stayed behind and talked to Atsuko. I heard their voices through the window when I ran down the porch, their words lapping at the glass like waves on the shore.
I wasn't alone in taking care of Yusuke, thanks to Kuwabara.
Neither, it seemed, was I alone in caring for Atsuko, once more thanks to him.
All the more reason I needed to be careful about how I told him about Meiou.
Turns out losing Kuwabara was one of the things that scared me most.
I glared at her while she laughed, her small face the color of a ripe cherry, little fist banging against her knee.
I said, "It's not funny."
"Au contraire, mon bon ami," Kagome said. "It's hilarious. You're going to Meiou!" Her cackle reminded me of a sadistic parakeet. "Looks like you really fucked yourself over, making your parents wealthy. Not to mention punching a teacher."
"Almost punching a teacher.
"Don't be pedantic, missy." She stopped laughing long enough to point at me, grinning. "You've only got yourself to blame, Eeyore. You and your internalized guilt and lingering anxiety disorder." Her composure shattered; fist battered knee again. "Oh man. Little Miss Thinker, undone by her big brain. Never thought I'd see the day! Ha!"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," I grumbled. "I'm the worst. Are you done mocking me yet?"
She was not done. Far from it. By the time she ordered a second cup of frozen yogurt, Kagome was still chuckling at my expense. Eventually she calmed down, thoughtfully picking at her mango custard and gumballs with a spoon.
"How bad a change do you think this is, anyway?" she asked. "Like, how much will switching schools change Yu Yu Hakusho canon?"
"Honestly? I don't know."
Honestly? Not knowing scared the shit out of me. I'd suffered many sleepless nights worrying about this, trying to discern and predict all possible variables wrought by this change, but results slipped through my fingers like water through a sieve. Mom and Dad thought my reluctance to change schools was just because I didn't want to leave my friends behind, alongside embarrassment at my near-miss expulsion. Little did they know my truth was far stranger than their inadvertent fiction.
"Keiko was at the school all during the Saint Beast arc when those zombie-guys attacked her, so that's something I'll have to deal with," I said. "That's the biggest thing, though—the biggest I can remember, at least." I ticked off the next few comments on my fingers. "I can think of three other times the school mattered. The first time she met Botan, it was on the roof of the school. She saw the Rescue Yukina video tape in Yusuke's hand at the school. And I think she was shown at the school during the Sensui arc, too." I put the fingers down and massaged my temples. "But those were small moments. Easily accounted for. What scares me is the possibility those missed moments might add up to something huge."
Kagome tapped her chin, thinking. "So…butterfly flaps its wings and causes a broken-canon tornado?"
"Exactly." Relief felt even more refreshing than my green tea yogurt; Kagome understood me. Awesome. So happy we found each other. "And with Minamino being so close by…"
Her lips pursed. "Minamino?"
"Oh. I mean Kurama." Kagome's eyes lightened as understanding dawned. "I'm training myself to use his human name so I don't slip up and give myself away if I meet him."
"Good idea, smarty pants," she said—but then she pointed her spoon at me, glob of mango splattering the table. "Wait. 'If' you meet him?" She crossed her arms and glared. "Let me guess. You're worried associating with Minamino too early will change things about canon, aren't you?"
Kagome and I had only hung out a few times, mostly before our weekly lessons with Hideki-sensei, but she already knew me pretty well. I nodded in affirmation.
She looked mildly alarmed by my response. "Holy shit. You're not gonna not meet him, are you?"
"I don't know." The words felt like a long-kept confession, private and maybe a little shameful. "I mean, I want to meet him. I really, really want to. I just worry it'll change things. He and Keiko barely exchanged two words in the anime."
Hell, I remembered one scene during the Dark Tournament where Keiko had asked Shizuru if Kurama was human. She hadn't used his name; she just called him 'that boy'. Did anime-Keiko even know Kurama's name?
"They weren't friends in the anime," I said. "Would being friends, or even classmates, be too big a change?"
Kagome took a comically large bite of yogurt. Her eyes widened. She groaned and cradled her head in her hands.
"Brain freeze?" I asked.
"Fucking brain freeze!" she concurred.
I laughed. She glared, but then her look turned thoughtful.
"If you want to meet him, then you should," she said.
My hands tightened. "But what if—?"
"Hypotheticals!" Kagome declared. "Eeyore and her constant hypotheticals! Just take life as it comes and stop worrying, for once!"
"Easier said than done," I muttered. "I might not get panic attacks in this body, but I'm still anxious."
I hadn't been formally diagnosed with an anxiety disorder as Keiko, but as the years went on I realized very little about the way my brain worked had changed when I entered her body. I was still incapable of not agonizing over things most people would say aren't worth my time. I was still sleepless at night, wrapped up in paranoia and anxiety.
"Telling someone like me not to worry is like telling someone with a broken limb to just stop having a broken limb," I said. "It's not possible. Worrying is how I'm wired."
Kagome grimaced. She set her yogurt aside—and for a minute there she looked a lot older than 10.
"Shit," she said, all sincerity and severity now. "I'm sorry if I dismissed your feelings."
I swirled my yogurt absently. "It's OK."
"No, I should know better. My husband had obsessive compulsive disorder. I know better than to tell someone to just get over their emotions." Her somber look brightened. "But tell you what. Maybe this will help: Kurama is super smart, right? I doubt he'd let you throw him off course no matter how much you interfere in his life."
"That's…actually a great point."
No way could someone like me ever change the fox demon's fate—not if he had a goal in mind. He was just too sharp and focused to be led off course. Kagome's logical assessment of the situation had me heaving a relived sighed, because suddenly the power was in Kurama's hands, not mine. That diffusion of responsibility was like a balm to my worrywart soul.
"Thank you. I feel better, actually," I told her. "Probably won't stop worrying, but at least you took the edge off."
"You're welcome," she said. "Speaking of feeling better. Must be a relief to know Yusuke is coming back, huh? You've been worried about that, too."
"I'll say. The next big plot point is the fire where Keiko's hair burns off, I think." I fingered a pigtail and mimed cutting it off; I hated this hairstyle. "Gotta be on the lookout for that. I'm ready for a haircut."
She frowned. "Is that really what comes next? What about that time Yusuke possessed Kuwabara?"
"Yusuke did that because Keiko didn't believe he'd come back to life when he talked to her in a dream," I said. "I believed him in the dream, so there's no need for that storyline." My shrug felt like a declaration of defeat. "I'm honestly sad about it. Seeing Yusuke in Kuwabara's body would've been hilarious. But it's probably for the best."
"Really? Why's that?" Kagome asked.
"I'd rather cut out as much needless drama as I can. The possession episode didn't have much impact on the overall story, so cutting it just saves me the anxiety of saving Yusuke's body from cremation in the nick of time."
She started to nod, but then Kagome froze. Her hand slacked around her spoon. It tumbled from her grip and into her orange yogurt with a splat.
"Oh, shit!" she said, eyes as round as the gumballs in her dessert. "I just thought of something!"
I stared at her. "Are you OK?"
"Oh, I'm fine—but whatever you do, don't mention my name to Kurama!"
"…OK?"
"Just—if you feel the need to mention me, or if he were to ever see us together, make up a name for me." She looked utterly serious, as if asking for a life-or-death favor instead of something so small (small if not weird, but whatever). "Like…a name like 'Sakura' or something. As generic a name as you can think up!"
"OK," I said. "But why?"
She crossed her arms and winked. "You're not the only one of us who likes to overthink everything."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning just like you, I also want to cut needless drama." She jammed her spoon into her ice cream, very impolitely—it looked like one of the food offerings on Yusuke's casket. "I had a dream the other night that Kurama appeared in the Feudal Era. He and Sesshomaru had a pillow fight in their underwear." Her eyes rolled back like she'd tasted something sweet. "Super hot."
Yogurt almost came out my nose. Kagome didn't appear to notice.
"It got me thinking," she continued. "Both Inuyasha and Yu Yu Hakusho have demons. In this universe, both animes appear to exist at the same time. So maybe…"
"Demons from Yu Yu Hakusho, like Yoko Kurama, might've existed in the Feudal Era," I said.
The notion had occurred to me before, though I hadn't given it much thought—mainly because I didn't see it affecting me. Keiko never travelled to Feudal Japan. Obviously Kagome had more reason to ponder these questions than I did. But why did Kagome want to keep her name from Kurama?
Kagome seemed please by my deduction. "Exactly! And as your school-switch so clearly showed us, things about our plots are changing. So maybe there will be a bigger crossover than just the two of us meeting each other and seeing fuzzy tabloid shots of Sailor V in the paper." She leaned her cheek on her hand, staring into space with a pout. "Maybe I'll meet Kurama when I finally go back to the past. The thing is, if we meet now when he's Shuichi, and he recognizes me, it'll give away whether or not our shows cross over."
She had a point. If Shuichi reacted to her face or name in the here-and-now, it would give away if she met him in the Feudal Era—
Wait. She didn't want to know ahead of time if she'd meet him? Knowing information like that ahead of time would be like striking gold, as far as I was concerned. Anything that helped me gain control, I'd welcome. So why did Kagome not want to know details about her life in advance?
As if answering my unspoken question, Kagome said, "I don't want to know about any changes before I've had a chance to experience them myself." She seemed almost excited, bouncing a little in her seat. "I want it to be a surprise!"
I processed Kagome's subtext.
My jaw promptly dropped.
I said: "You…you want to avoid meeting Minamino in this era to avoid spoilers?"
Her grin was like sunshine bottled. "Yup!"
There was no stopping me: I cradled my head in my hands and groaned.
"This isn't a fanfiction, Tigger," I said.
"You sure about that, Eeyore?" Kagome chirped with maddening sincerity.
"Yes. Yes, I'm sure. This is real life."
"Is it though, Eeyore?" she implored. "Is. It. Though?"
"We are not fictional." I sat up, glared, and thrust out my bare arm. A quote from The Bard rolled ready off my tongue. "'If you cut me, do I not bleed?' We're fucking real!"
She turned up her nose. "Character in fanfics bleed. I mean, on paper. But still."
"Oh my god. This is not a fanfic." I spoke slowly, trying to disabuse her of the ridiculous notion we starred in some pathetic fanboy's lame fantasies, because that was ludicrous and oh my god please kill me now. "We are living real lives. There are no spoilers in real life."
Her stubborn eyes were like diamonds, unyielding and aglow.
"Maybe there are spoilers," she said, "when real life happens inside a gigantic fanfiction crossover universe."
"We are not in a fanfic!" I snarled. Kagome leaned away, holding up her hands in wide-eyed surrender. I flashed her a sheepish look and tried very hard to compose myself. "Sorry. It's just, this whole thing is way too stupid to ever be a fanfic. No one would even read it! It's too weird!"
That got a smile out of her. "Yeah, it is pretty farfetched," she said—and her resolute look returned. "But like it or not, I don't want spoilers. Time travel is funky enough as it is without Kurama recognizing me too soon."
Hate to admit it, but she made sense. I'd not want to screw up time travel, either. I slumped back in my seat with a sigh, worry defeated once again by cold logic.
"Fine," I relented. "If it makes you happy, your name is 'Sakura' as far as Minamino is concerned."
Her charming grin all but lit up the night. "You're the best! And sorry to cut this short, but we should probably get going."
For the second time that day, I checked my watch and bolted to my feet. "Ah, damn! He'll make us run extra laps if we're tardy!"
Kagome hadn't thought of that, apparently. She shrieked an expletive before pouring the rest of her yogurt down her throat while I gathered up my things. Then—Kagome sprinting, me jogging to accommodate her short legs—we ran together to Hideki-sensei's warehouse dojo.
I'd been attending lessons once a week since the day I met Kagome, and Hideki had not lied to us: that first lesson had just been a warm-up. The two boys who seemed unsure at the end of the first lesson hadn't returned for a third once they experienced the sheer, brutal torture of the second. It became apparent, quickly, that Hideki had been pulling punches that first lesson.
Like. He'd been pulling punches a lot.
Each lesson followed roughly the same format. We were made to run laps until we dropped, then meditate, then go over forms and learn new katas before sparring with Hideki until none of us could stand.
And I mean it—we sparred until black spots stained the corners of our vision, breath like a knives in our ribs, every limb quivering like jelly in an earthquake. Hideki's ghostly dodging ability had turned into viper-swift strikes and grapples of steel. The man never seemed to tire, like the Energizer Bunny if it had been raised in a hidden ninja village that specialized in being sadistic and torturous. I came away with skin like a patchwork quilt of bruises, every joint creaking when I fell into bed, fireworks of pain sparking through my battered body.
I kept going back, though.
Hoping to gain an edge, I hit the gym and lifted weights on my own time. I ran miles every morning before school. I practiced katas every chance I got. And although I never managed to hit Hideki, or even keep him from kicking my ass, I kept going back to lessons.
Every session felt like it unlocked something in my brain: a little piece of dexterity, or strength, or raw insight. Nothing about my previous formal training could possibly compare.
I would not waste the opportunity to learn from this man, no matter how badly his punches hurt.
When Kagome and I arrived that night, Hideki-sensei and our other classmate, Ezakiya, were already there. Hideki looked as bored as ever, even when he barked at us to start running sprints up and down the length of the warehouse. Usually the sprints cleared my head, making the meditation that followed come easily, but tonight I couldn't focus. I couldn't prevent stray thoughts from flitting through my consciousness, cracking it like air bubbles in a concrete expanding during winter frost. My strikes during the sparring session lacked passion or motivation. I clung to the fringes of the fight, letting scrappy Kagome and strong Ezakiya take point while I brought up the rear in our assault on the untouchable Hideki.
Were we in a fanfic?
I dodged behind Ezakiya when Hideki sent him sprawling.
No. That's stupid. Don't think about that.
Kagome screeched and threw herself at Hideki, but the man flipped her with a lazy twist of his shoulder.
Don't think about that. Think about something fun. Kuwabara?
Ezakiya roared as he charged our sensei, but Hideki parried and forced Ezakiya to the ground.
No, not Kuwabara. You'll feel guilty. You still haven't told him about Meiou—
Grey eyes flashed like steel in my direction. Hideki's arm cut a path through the air before Ezakiya even hit the mat.
The next thing I knew, Hideki smashed my sternum with the flat of his palm.
I reeled backward and came down hard on my knee. Something inside it twisted and popped, but I barely registered the pain because something in my chest had popped, too. I went down with a gasp, curling in on myself as I tried to breathe. It felt like a train had hit me. Each gasp sent a spider's web of agony across my ribs.
Silence followed. Then Hideki's impassive voice drifted through the air.
"That's enough for tonight, I think."
I shut my eyes, dimly registering when Kagome ran to my side, snapping at Ezakiya to come and help me sit. I let them haul me up without opening my eyes.
When a shadow crossed my face, however, my lids lifted just a crack.
Hideki knelt in front of me. His eyes moved from Ezakiya to Kagome.
"Both of you," he murmured, "go home."
"But Keiko and I walk to the train together," Kagome protested.
The barest hint of a scowl twisted Hideki's lips. "Then wait for her outside."
No one argued with Hideki. It was tough to argue with a man that strong. Ezakiya gave my shoulder a supportive squeeze while I wheezed, and Kagome muttered that she'd wait for me, but both of them left, as requested.
Was it just me, or did Hideki look annoyed once the door fell shut behind them?
"You were distracted," he said. Sounded almost like an accusation. "You were in your head again. I told you to stop that."
"I know." My words rasped, sandpaper over taffeta. "Sorry."
"Apologize to yourself. You're the only person you hurt." He looked at my chest, then at the knees I'd pulled up to it. "Hold still."
He lifted his hands and placed them over my left knee—the knee that had earlier popped. The knee, now that Hideki drew attention to it, burning like a star inside my skin. A gash in my leggings showed a bruise purpling below my patella. Hideki spread his hands around the joint, fingers light atop my skin.
His hands began to glow.
"I spoke to Genkai," Hideki said. "She says you're in-the-know about reiki."
He was right. Too bad affirming words were impossible to form just then. A tingling coolness, soda on a hot day, suffused my knee in raw, soothing sensation, accompanying a dandelion glow so faint I could've written it off as a trick of the eye. I knew better than that, though. I knew what I was looking at, and I would've gasped in awe if I was able. As it stands, I just sat there, staring, trying to breathe as Hideki showed me the first example of reiki manipulation I'd ever seen in this world. The Spirit Wave hardly counted—I'd been unconscious when Genkai used it.
The experience ended all too soon. When he pulled his hands away, the purple bruise had faded to angry red.
The pain had dissipated entirely.
"I think I cracked your sternum," Hideki said, shifting. "Sorry in advance."
He held his hand over my chest, but not touching me. Probably out of a sense of decorum? I wasn't sure. But the white light felt just as soothing as before, even if he didn't make direct contact. Soon the searing pain in my chest faded to a dull throb.
When he removed his hand, my breath returned to me in a heady, bracing rush. I gulped it down like I was dying of thirst.
"Tell me," Hideki said when I breathed normally at last. "Why were you so in your head today?"
Question knocked me off balance. I started to tell him there was no reason, mostly because I didn't think he actually wanted to know (he was a grown man; what did he care for the gossip of a seemingly normal teenager?) but something in his deadpan expression stopped me.
I got the feeling Hideki didn't ask questions unless he actually wanted to know the answer. Just didn't seem the type for smalltalk, my sensei.
"My best friend died a few days ago," I said, "but night before last I had a dream he was coming back, and when I checked the body yesterday, I found a heartbeat."
Hideki did not react. But I thought that maybe, just maybe, his eyes widened a fraction of a fraction.
"He's in a coma," I said. "And on the day of his funeral, my parents told me I'm switching schools. Apparently I got expelled, because at the funeral I almost punched an asshole teacher when he insulted my dead friend. My not-dead friend. Whatever." I shrugged. "It'll all work out eventually, but right now it's tough to keep a clear head. Lots of things keeping me up at night. I'm not the best at dealing with uncertainty. Makes me feel powerless, and I don't like that feeling." I smiled, attempting to look chipper. "But in the end, I apologize for losing focus. That's on me."
Hideki stayed very still for a moment. Then he blinked, slowly, twice.
"At least you have a decent excuse," he murmured.
I shrugged. He shook his head, stood, and offered me a hand. I took it.
"Are you meditating much?" he said as he helped me to my feet.
"At home, yeah. Mostly to deal with stress."
"Good. You need all the help you can get with stress."
Did he mean that as an insult? It sounded a bit like an insult. Hard to tell with him, though. I started to ask, but then he pointed between my eyes, tracing a path from my head to my toes.
"Meditate, but focus on the flow of energy in your body," he said. "Try to slow and speed your heart if you're able. Concentrate on breathing, and on feeling how energy connects your body's many systems." He shoved his hands in his pockets and slouched. "I can't promise you'll be able to do it, and certainly not on your first attempt—but if you're ever able to control your body, it'll be a step."
"A step toward?"
A near-imperceptible smile colored his blank expression
Hideki said, "Toward your goal."
My breathing hitched, but not from pain. Genkai must've told him about my wish. Why else would he have shown me his powers, given me this advice?
But why hadn't he shown me before now?
Maybe I had to earn it. Maybe I did something tonight that earned it.
I doubted he'd tell me, even if I guessed.
I bowed. "Thank you, sensei. I'll do my best."
He harrumphed and spun on his heel.
"Of course you will," he said as he walked away. "Ice that knee when you get home, and you can skip running tomorrow. Yes, I know you've been training outside of lessons." He held up a single finger. "But only skip one day. I'll know if you skip more."
I suppressed a startled laugh. "Yes, sensei."
His hand extended toward the doorknob. I turned away, looking for my shoes—
"Yukimura."
I spun. Hideki stared over his shoulder at me. If he didn't have such a blank face, I might've said he looked…troubled, maybe. But I couldn't be sure.
"When you find yourself at your lowest point," he said, voice carrying despite its softness, "no matter how badly fear might hold you, you must push through. Fear is a liar. Do not listen to what fear might tell you about yourself."
I didn't say anything. Hideki slouched even further, spine a curving question mark.
"When we have failed, we are given the opportunity to discover our truest strengths. We are given the opportunity to discover our truest selves." He turned his back on me once more. "Do not disservice yourself by heeding the words of fear. They are not as important as your own."
With that cryptic message, sensei walked out of the warehouse.
I stood in the dim room for nearly a minute before the door creaked open and Kagome slunk inside. She frowned as she trotted across the space, looking me up and down.
"What did he want?" she asked.
"Not much," I said. My words sounded distant, like someone else was speaking. "Just to fix my knee." I smiled at her. "He's got powers."
Kagome nodded sagely, un-phased as usual. "Ah. Neat."
"Yeah. He fixed my knee, and then he gave me some advice. Sort of. I think that was his version of a pep-talk, actually." I shook my head to clear the cobwebs. "Anyway. Walk to the station?"
The train station was only a few minutes away. I put Kagome on her train, then boarded my own and journeyed home.
Kuwabara answered the phone on the third ring, when I called him.
He took the news of my transfer better than I'd hoped.
"I mean, I'm sad," he said, sounding like a puppy who'd just been put in a kennel, "but this just means we gotta study together a lot to keep in touch, that's all! And we'll have to go to the Megallica concert together, and—"
I couldn't keep my heart from soaring.
Kuwabara wouldn't forget me. He was too caring for that, no matter which school I attended. Hideki had been right, it seemed. I didn't need to listen to fear—not where Kuwabara was concerned, at least.
Kurama, though?
The fox demon wasn't like Kuwabara. He possessed a terrifying capacity for cold indifference, the kind of which warm Kuwabara would never be capable.
Ask me to compile a list of what scares me in this world, and Kurama's cold, logical wrath ranks pretty damn high.
As far as I was concerned, my anxiety disorder wasn't even part of that particular terror equation.
NOTE:
I always questioned how Yusuke came back if he had had an autopsy when he died (I was under the impression most accident victims are autopsied, for legal or insurance purposes), and how he survived without eating or drinking while comatose. In this version we learn that he wasn't autopsied thanks to Japanese cultural interference, and in this version he's placed under artificial life support after Keiko discovers that Koenma has restored Yusuke's pulse in preparation for his resurrection ordeal. I find that more realistic, and I hope you find the changes plausible as well.
There is a Children of Misfortune alternate POV installment corresponding to this chapter.
MANY MANY THANKS to those who reviewed. I am routinely delighted and surprised by your comments and support. You're the best: Melissa Fairy, DiCuoreAllison, Guest (x3), Marian, xenocanaan, Yunrii, Lady Hummingbird, Sky65, Drachegirl14, rya-fire1, Insanity's Heaven, SanguineSky, reebajee, musicisalifestyle, Adrienne, Your Delusional Fantasies, Ink Winged, FireDancerNix, Miqila, UniqueFreak23, xanaldy, DarkDust27!
