In the Wake of What Follows

Chapter Three: Twice Bitten

Terra slunk into her apartment. The sound of the door closing behind her was too brash in the stillness of her return. It clicked with the finality of everything that had come to pass. She dropped her bag on the floor, kicking up the dust that had settled in the few weeks of her absence. It didn't feel like hers anymore. It didn't feel like a home. Her apartment felt like a faraway memory. Her bed was unmade, blue comforter half fallen on the floor. Crumpled clothes were piled on the desk chair, left from where she had unturned her dresser to pack for the trip. There were dishes leftover in the drying rack. None of it felt like hers. How a place can become second nature, she would never understand.

Terra went through the motions of settling in, not fully unpacking before crawling into bed. There was a picture of her and Jeremy on her bookshelf she turned over, eyes glazing over their happy expressions before blocking it from her view. She let herself be absorbed by her mattress. Her pillow smelled of dust and Jeremy's shampoo. The bones in her body were heavy. Every inch of her felt as if they were trying to pull away. Her side still ached in a constant reminder that it wasn't just a dream. The time she was away was very real.

Hours passed. Hours of staring at the wall, the dust particles in the air, the water stain in the corner of her ceiling. She didn't want to move. She wanted the world to grow dark around her. She wanted to stay up all night so she could sleep all day and never face the sunlight again. Everything felt cold and empty despite the sweltering summer heat without the comfort of an air conditioner. She wanted to scream, suddenly, but she couldn't even open her mouth. Terra stood in a fit of energy and went to open the window. It was hard to wallow in sweat.

As the fresh air reached her, still warm but at least moving, Terra felt that same sensation she had at the temple. Not a threat. It was simply there, with the faint scent of wet dog. She tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. She closed her eyes against the gentle rays of sun sneaking into her bedroom and tried not to vomit. Kids laughed outside, playing on her street with water guns. She could see, when she dared look, that one of them was different. One of them gave her pause without any apparent reason, but as she looked closer, she could almost see the glamour fade and a new face appear. Wet dog, she thought as the young boy got blasted by a friend. He had canine teeth for a moment before he flashed a straight, white, ordinary smile. For a moment, he was a monster. Terra slammed her window shut and ran to the bathroom.

She retched, gagging on her own bile. She shook. Her fingers white-knuckled the porcelain seat. Acid stung her throat and nostrils, forcing her to gag again. Tears swelled in her eyes, and soon enough, the shock of seeing a thing again dissipated, and she was left with the rawness of her throat. Reality reached her like an unstoppable force. He was gone. Terra wailed into the toilet, clinging to the cool feel against her cheek more desperately than any late-night party binge had led her to. He was gone. He was gone, and she was alone.

By the time she found it in her to move again, the sun had set. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, but she wasn't hungry. Terra rose to her feet with shaky legs, worrying that any second her knees would buckle beneath her. She braced herself against the sink and caught her reflection in the dirty mirror. It mocked her. Pallid skin with deep bruises under her eyes. She looked waxy and broken. The roots from her last dye job had never looked so obvious under the fluorescent lights, and puke clung to some strands. She was a Barbie doll a pet dog had chewed on.

The pipes squeaked as she turned on the water, groaning from the months of disuse. She cupped her hands and let the cold water pool between her fingers. In a daze, Terra splashed it on her face and shuddered. It felt too sharp against the sticky heat of her apartment. She rinsed out her mouth, spitting into the sink until the acidic taste faded. She wished for her toothbrush, but it was still in her pack and she didn't have the energy to find it.

She felt as if she were in a trance. Moving but not thinking, out of control, watching her body like a movie that didn't grab her attention. Terra opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the shears she had bought to trim Jeremy's hair. Her hands trembled holding them. Without pause, she took the scissors to her chin and chopped off the clumps of hair stuck together by pasty orange vomit. Then she kept cutting. Snip. Snip, snip, snip. Shorter and shorter. Her bathroom floor was a sea of light brown strands. It looked like someone had murdered a ferret or two. She took a deep breath, dropping the shears into the sink. The weight in her chest felt lighter, if only a little.

Then she crawled into bed and didn't move.

Routine found her, an easy default to life. She slept until she woke. She went to the bathroom and brushed her teeth. She ate the dried food still left on her shelves: crackers, peanut butter, cheerios, raisins, ramen, mac & cheese. Then she crawled into bed until she fell asleep again. Sometimes she would stare at her laptop and imagine powering it on. Too much effort, she would decide every time, for something so mundane. She couldn't even remember what she used it for other than checking her email and Facebook. Her phone had died before her trip down the mountain and Terra had never bothered to charge it. If she did, it would either be flooded with messages or near empty. Terra didn't know which was worse.

It was easiest to just ignore. Ignore the sunrise, ignore the clock, shut the blinds and ignore the day, ignore the birthday present she had found in Jeremy's pack, ignore the fact that she was alone and alive. Ignore the truths that she had learned. Ignore reality. It wasn't denial. She knew what was real, but she refused to think about it. She couldn't think about it.

Terra didn't know how many days passed before there came a knock at the door. The raps of knuckles on the hardwood were hurried and strong.

It took Terra a moment to respond. One-two-three-four-five, silence, her doorbell too loud, knock-two-three-four-five. Terra pushed herself out of bed and hovered at the door as the knocking continued. Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock! Silence. Knock-knock-knock- Terra opened the door and a short woman with a tidy bun and wide eyes nearly fell through. She looked up at Terra with the same blue as Jeremy's eyes.

"Oh, Terra," she says.

"Hi, Lorraine."

In a big sweeping motion, Lorraine pulled Terra into a strong embrace. She rocked back and forth a bit and vehemently whispered how much she worried when Terra didn't attend the funeral. A part of Terra's brain wondered how Mrs. Scotts was here at all. Jeremy's mother pulled back and carded her fingers through what was left of Terra's hair. "We'll fix that," she told Terra with a watery smile. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Terra had only met Jeremy's mother a handful of times. Jeremy had brought Terra home with him on holidays after they started dating, and she spent bursts of time with the family, but they were few and far between. The Scotts household always felt awkward for Terra. They were so loving and wholesome, like something straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting. Terra had only started to believe family like that was something she could have again, but now that was gone too. Even as Lorraine guided her to the chair and fretted over her, Terra knew this wasn't something that would last. She wasn't family, despite the family moments they had shared.

"We had been trying to contact you," Lorraine said. "I thought the worst when you never responded. The police officer said you had been hurt."

Terra frowned. "Yeah. I'm fine, though. It healed easily."

"Good, that's good." Mrs. Scotts fluttered about, picking up after Terra. It was easy to see how much she was appalled by the state of the place. Food wrappers littered the floor, the sink was brimming with dirty dishes, everything was coated in dust, Terra was wearing the same sweats from three days ago and her clothes were still in random piles around the room. Something in Lorraine's eye told Terra the woman would have been tidying even if the apartment were spotless. Lorraine was a stress cleaner. Her hands shook as she wiped clean the kitchen counter, betraying the too tight smile on her face. As she cleaned, Lorraine gave Terra details about the funeral. Jeremy had been dressed in his father's old suit since he hadn't had one of his own. The guest list of who showed and who didn't was Lorraine's favorite topic. Then the flower arrangements.

"So many casseroles," she said while sweeping up the remaining hair still on Terra's bathroom tiles. "I had to put them all in the freezer when I flew over." Jeremy's mother lived in Australia. He had come to Japan for school because he wanted to one day run an international business. Only months after graduating and all those dreams had turned to dust. "You know what," she continued, glancing over at Terra's small kitchen, "I'll pick up some groceries and make you something."

"I'm fine."

"Nonsense. You've got nothing but cans of tuna and two-cent ramen. I'll make you something hardy to keep you going. Now come here, and I'll even out that cut, hm?" Terra sat where Lorraine indicated at the kitchen table. Terra hadn't used the chair since coming back. She usually ate in her bed.

As she angled Terra's head, Lorraine's fingers kept dabbing at Terra's scalp as if pulling back from a fire. She was gentle and quick about it, chattering nonsense Terra couldn't fully tune into like a radio playing in the other room. But Mrs. Scotts needed to speak. She needed to mend and to clean the same way Terra needed to restrict her movements to that of a sloth and the confines of her apartment. "There," Lorraine said when she finished, wiping away stray strands of hair and tossing them. "Much neater."

Terra ran a hand through the pixie cut, which was truly a cut now instead of the wild mess Terra had mucked it into. It barely passed through her fingers on the sides and the top she could pull as far as the top of her eyebrows. The mirror version of herself looked almost put together. Before she could say thanks, Lorraine placed her hand on Terra's cheek. Her thumb swept over the dark bags carted by Terra's eyes. Terra blinked back sudden tears as Jeremy's mother looked at her with such reverence.

"Thank you," the woman said, taking her hand away, "for being with my son. You made him happy." Lorraine stepped away.

Terra lost her voice. She merely nodded and watched as Lorraine idly neaten the rest of the room in silence. She picked up some books and righted the picture frame Terra had turned over. Lorraine smiled sadly at the image of her son. As Terra watched on from the kitchen, the woman paused before reaching the pack stuffed half under the bed. Mrs. Scotts' hand hovered over the small box still wrapped in the simple butcher paper. She took her hand back, clenching it to her heart as if stung. Terra's name was scrawled on the paper in Jeremy's handwriting. Mrs. Scotts looked towards Terra, who hadn't moved since the haircut. She smiled through tears. "Your birthday just passed, didn't it."

It wasn't a question. They both knew the fatal trip had been marked by her birthday. Lorraine touched the package for a moment before picking up the gift and placing the small box on top of the bookshelf, next to the photo of Jeremy.

She came back to where Terra sat. "You should open it." She held a hand out and waited until Terra took the offer and was pulled to her feet. The short woman had more strength than appeared and held her tightly. "Know," she said softly, "that it doesn't matter what happened and what didn't, Jeremy loved you so, so much, and that you will always be family." Terra didn't believe her. Maybe about Jeremy, but not about family. Lorraine pulled back and headed to the door. "I'll be back tomorrow to make that casserole," she promised. "And be good to yourself." With one last parting, Mrs. Scotts was out the door and Terra was left bereft of even her numbness.

Mrs. Scotts never brought up the gift again when she visited, although the box sat on Terra's bookshelf like a beacon.

Mrs. Scotts made Terra three casseroles and stocked her fridge and cupboard. She came back for a few more days before needing to say goodbye and fly home. Lorraine asked Terra to join her, a last-minute whim and a serious promise for the future. Terra turned the invitation down. "When you're ready," Lorraine said. "Feel free to come visit, at the very least."

Terra had lived half her life in Perth. She had dual citizenship up until her last birthday, as her mother has been Australian. Terra chose to naturalize as Japanese because, with her parents gone, she didn't have roots in either country, and she didn't plan to leave Tokyo where she was going to school. The only times she had gone to Australia in recent years was to spend holiday with Jeremy. She supposed, in a way, that would be the only reason to go back again.

"Take care of yourself," Lorraine said, a weight to her voice that Terra couldn't ignore. "Promise me that."

"I'll try."

Lorraine left Terra with a big kiss on her cheek.

It wasn't until Terra ate through all the food Lorraine had bought her that she finally forced herself outside of her apartment. Terra was in a pair of jeans she pulled out of the laundry Lorraine had done for her, and the first tee-shirt she found. She grabbed her keys and left. It wasn't until she was standing on the sidewalk that it hit her that it was the first time she had been outside since returning from the temple.

The city was loud. Noises of people and cars were too much after weeks of barricading herself from them. A stiff wind had wound its way around the tall buildings, ushering in the crisp autumn. Terra wasn't sure what day it was, or even what month. Had she slept all the way into and through September? Mrs. Scotts had charged Terra's phone, but Terra still hadn't turned it on. The only comfort she had was knowing she was able to keep her distance from anyone who pretended to care.

Walking around the city was a nerve-wracking experience. She hadn't realized how often the prickling sensation of demon tingled at the edge of her awareness before. It felt as if they were around every corner. Terra stopped at a stall for a steam bun. She had wandered around the grocery store, unable to decide on any single item. It was like she had forgotten how to shop.

Terra felt as if she had forgotten how to do most things.

She munched on the bun slowly, each bite sitting heavy in her stomach. Terra tried to make a shopping list in her mind as she wandered around her neighborhood. Since she had managed to get outside, she didn't want to waste it. She'd figure out what to buy and go back to the market and pick it up. Pick something up, at least. It was easy in her state to lose track of where she was. Even the odd prickling sensation became a dull sense, easy to ignore. It wasn't until one such sensation became more than a prickling that Terra startled back into the present.

Even if Terra hadn't had spiritual awareness, as Genkai had called it, this was a situation Terra should have been able to avoid. A poorly lit alley, a mostly deserted part of town, three strange guys smoking at the back door of a rundown convenience store. She had slipped down the side street to cut around the subway getting out. That was so dumb.

As the men turned their attention to her, Terra was shot with the sensation of wrongness stronger than she had ever felt before. The prickling felt like lightning in her veins, frying her from the inside out. One of them had horns. Even at their distance, he smelled like rancid meat.

He smirked. As his eyes roamed over her body, Terra knew that this was a mistake. Leaving her apartment was a mistake. Not paying attention to where she was going was a mistake. Forcing Kurama and Genkai to tell her about the supernatural was a mistake. Opening her eyes to what this feeling meant gave everything in her life a new layer of fear that overran her.

Or maybe she should be happy that she could still feel fear at all.

The three men slipped around her quickly. Terra didn't know how to get out of this situation. Genkai's voice echoed in her memory: you aren't very strong, are you? Terra had never been in a fight before. What strength she did have wouldn't be able to help her in this situation.

"I think she can see past our glamour," the one with the horns laughed when Terra's eyes flicked up to his horns again. "Some weak little mouse of a psychic wandering our way. I always think they taste better. Don't you, boys?"

The other men chuckled. Terra's stomach bottomed out. Tasted?

"I thought demons weren't supposed to be harming humans anymore," Terra said, voice not nearly as steady as she wished it would be. She remembered Yusuke saying something about a King and a truce.

"There's something I've heard you humans say," one of the other demons snickered. "It's only a crime if you get caught."

They all got a good laugh at that.

"Pretty exotic, this one. A hafu by the looks of it," the one with horns said, looking her over. "Maybe instead of eating you, I just make you mine. Nothing in the rule book says I can't do that."

Terra didn't like the connotation of those words.

Terra was surrounded. No one knew where she was. She was defenseless. A knot of emotion stuck in her throat. Her racing thoughts could only piece together one thing. She didn't want to die.

She didn't want to die.

The horned one, who seemed to be this little pack's leader, advanced like a tiger stalking its prey.

She didn't want to die.

When he grabbed her, it wasn't like the unseen yellow-eyed creatures who had taken her down under the moonlight. She knew it was coming and lashed out, swinging her arms wildly as if she had a chance. He caught her arm, grip so tight the bones creaked. Terra kicked when she couldn't hit. Her knee connected with his groin, but it barely phased the horned demon.

His incisors bit into the flesh of her arm and she screamed.

She didn't want to die. And if she was going to live, fuck all was she going to live as his.

The fear that had a hand around her heart burst in her blood vessels. It was like a horror film, as the red smeared his lips. As she screamed, everything in her concentrated into the place where his teeth met her flesh – the rest of the world a detached static.

Then he choked.

Terra's free hand came up and pushed the demon's head away. For a moment, his teeth sunk in deeper. Then he let go, gagging on the blood in his mouth.

One of the other demons called out a name. Terra couldn't really hear them. Not as she stared at the horned demon who was seizing before her. A few gargled words escaped his lips – a disjointed question asking what she had done.

Terra hadn't done anything. He was the one that bit her.

The other two demons rushed to their friend's side. Arm throbbing, Terra took the chance to run. She clamped her other hand down on the bite and ran all the way back to her apartment. People ducked out of her way on the streets, some yelling as she ran into them. If any tried to help her when they saw the blood, she didn't know. The world was a buzz. The last she had seen of the horned demon, his friends were desperately calling his name as his body shook with tremors.

When Terra made it into her apartment, she found the peroxide and poured it over the bite. The watered-down blood drained into the sink like Kool-Aid. She was in shock. It was a state she could recognize too easily, but that didn't help her overcome the sensation that overtook her. Terra cleaned out the bite and wrapped it in gauze. It wasn't until she had cleaned the bathroom and washed the blood out of her clothes that Terra was able to process what had just happened.

They were going to attack her either way, but her ability to recognize what they were had made it more exciting for them. Terra looked down at her bandaged arm. Another scar.

She thought about the way the horned demon was seizing. Something about her had affected him badly.

Terra jumped to her feet and was halfway to the door before she realized what she had been planning to do. The demon had bit her. She had no reason to go back to that alley to find out what happened to him. If her psychic blood was like poison to him, then so be it.

Terra's stomach growled. She hadn't even gotten to finish her steam bun. There was no food in the house either; the only reason she had bothered to venture outside in the first place.

"Shit."

Terra grabbed a jacket to fight against the growing autumn night air. Then she grabbed a kitchen knife and stuck it in the inside pocket. If anyone came after her this time, she would fight back before they had a chance to sink their teeth in her.

Nightmares kept Terra awake most nights. The steady plunk-plunk-plunk of blood onto the roof of her parent's car. The yellow eyes that had dragged Jeremy into the night. The horned demon's bloody teeth.

Sometimes Terra missed the nightmares of her childhood. Unnamed fears leaving her with abstract memories when she woke up racing to her parent's bed. She even missed the simplicity of her dreams about the car crash. A human experience. Now her nightmares were the stuff of horror films made worse by the knowledge that they were born from reality.

She fell into a new routine. When she woke up, she lay in bed and stared at the ceiling until she needed the bathroom. She ate what she had in the house. Sometimes she found the energy to read a book, still avoiding the possibility of getting sucked into social media if she dared turn on her computer. Then, on the days she found she had run out of food, Terra ventured into the city with a hypervigilance that made people go out of their way to avoid her.

Terra hadn't wanted to die. Not in the accident that took her parents. Not in the dark mountain forest when the night was filled with the sound of her dying friends. Not alone in a back alley of Tokyo. Yet, here she was, alive, and she didn't know what to do with it. She knew she didn't want to die, but Terra didn't know how to live.

One day, as she walked home from the market, a bag in each hand and a scarf around her neck, someone called out to her. "You!" She had no reason to believe the man was shouting at her other than the fact the streets were all but dead this time of day. She turned to the sound regardless. Terra dropped her bags.

It was one of the demons from the alley. The one who hadn't spoken, back then. Not until his friend was writhing on the ground.

The knife she had taken to carrying with her was out before the demon could get any closer.

The demon laughed, but not in an evil villain way. He seemed genuinely amused.

"Should've figured you for a fighter," he smirked. "Killed the boss and all."

"Killed?" Terra repeated, startled. She hadn't done more than push him away. She hadn't done anything. "He bit me."

"Never seen the mark backfire like that," the demon chuckled. He looked her over and the chill it sent down Terra's spine nearly made her drop the knife. "Suppose he deserved it. You're right. We ain't supposed to be going after humans anymore. Just wanted you to know, you don't gotta worry that bad anymore," he nodded to the knife in her hand. "This is my spot now. Never did like the way the boss handled things."

Terra didn't trust him. It sounded too nice. This man, who was so complacent when she was being attacked, now promised the neighborhood to be safe under his watch. What good was his word? How was Terra ever supposed to not worry again? The world had tried to kill her again and again. It was like a curse that weighed on her shoulders. Terra didn't think she could ever feel safe again.

Even still, the man backed away, then turned and continued down from where he came. Terra waited until he turned the corner to put away her knife. She picked up her bags and hurried on home.

How could Terra ever feel safe in a world where she was weak and demons lurked around every corner?

In her rush to drop her groceries and get a glass of water – anything to calm her speeding heart – Terra bumped into her bookshelf. The lone picture frame rattled and fell over, pushing the little box next to it off the edge. It landed on the ground with a hollow thud. She stared at it for quite some time. Jeremy's present. The last thing he ever gave her – only he never got the chance.

How could Terra find a way to live when she was so utterly alone?

Terra picked up the tiny box. The butcher paper had split at one of the corners from the fall. The box underneath was made of black velvet. Terra dropped the gift. Not now, she couldn't think about that now.

The sound of kids outside her window knocked her out of her thoughts. That one demon child that carried a scent of wet dog was out there again. Absently, Terra touched at her side. Through her jacket, she traced the now-familiar line of the scar across her right side that nearly split her in two. She had had plenty of time to obsess over its every jagged curve. The skin there had healed pale and raised – flesh thick and knotted where it had been forced back together.

Terra remembered Genkai's parting words. Somehow the old woman knew how difficult a time Terra would have in Tokyo now that she knew for certain about the worlds of demons and spirits. Terra had become a prisoner in her own home. She felt like a fugitive whenever she stepped outside. Genkai had promised to train her, an underlying challenge to make her strong. Perhaps, maybe then Terra wouldn't be so afraid.

She looked around her musty apartment. Most of her things had been left untouched the last few months. Despite her promise to Lorraine to take care of herself, Terra had fallen into bad habits. There was trash everywhere. The few clothes she had worn littered the floor. She wasn't sure the last time she took a shower.

If Terra was going to gain any control over her life again, she needed something to change.

Terra picked up Jeremy's gift again and tore open the busted paper wrapping. She couldn't change if she couldn't move on.