Part I
Chapter 32
...
...it's...
...it's...
...it's...
...my...
...
...it's my blood.
My blood...
It's everywhere.
It's...my blood...
...my...
...
Minamo sat upon the bed with her back against the wall, arms wrapped around her knees, head tucked in against them.
...senpai.
A long, aching sigh filled her apartment, the darkness of the night swallowing it up.
I got over you. I did. I know I did. But...but then why...? Why did I just dream about you? I haven't thought about you since...since high school. Why are you back now, then, senpai...?
The minutes passed away slowly, faint sounds of the neighborhood life outside permeating softly through the walls.
I was so scared...about what you meant to me. Why did everyone else care about that? Why? I never did anything wrong to them...so why did they hate me? Just because I was...because I had something for you. Because...you were special to me...
The nightmare was still fresh in her mind, that same old breed of bloody nightmare that had tormented Minamo for the better part of her life, ruining yet another night of sleep for her. Resuming her slumber would be a quite difficult endeavor now, the fear that horrible dream had instilled having completely rattled her nerves, letting loose a torrent of bitter emotions and recollections that now raged about inside of her, preventing both her eyes and mind from obtaining any semblance of peace.
That's all over...it's been over since then! I'm...I'm not the same anymore. I changed...it was just a phase. I know I got over it all. I know I got over her...and...
Her entire body cringed in upon itself.
...Yukari.
It seeped into her thoughts once again, just as it had been doing so throughout the entire day so far, the faint remnants of that distant memory easily taking advantage of her exhausted will, Minamo unable to keep up the fight as it poured itself into her consciousness.
I still don't understand. I'll never understand...why you did that...
Slowly, all of it trickled through the subtle fractures that littered the surface of her mind, fragile ruptures that had been gradually accumulating upon it for almost half of Minamo's life now, when the first true beat of her heart had completely rocked it so long ago.
"Why...? You...that's not who you are. I don't understand...I'll never understand you...not in the least way..."
Her voice was a thin whisper.
"...how could you do that? Why...what were you thinking? What are you always thinking, Yukari...?"
The scene continued to congeal, forming together into the one memory that Minamo had tried so, so hard to forget over the course of the last fifteen years, ever since it had first been inscribed into her being. It was a day, an event, that had made her fully aware of a part of herself that she quickly realized that she couldn't possess, was ridiculed to have, but that she had still never been able to truly get rid of in any real fashion, the element being of the greatest part of her psyche.
And so, every now and then, despite Minamo's best efforts, it would break through all the barriers that held it at bay, its power always energized by the actions of that girl...that woman.
Because of that woman.
Because of that Yukari.
You...
It would just be something that she would do, or something that she would say, that would trigger it all.
Just a few simple words on her part.
With a certain inflection of her voice, a particular motion of her hands, her body.
Or, as was the case this morning, during that surreal encounter in the woman's own home...
...just a particular type of face.
An expression.
A sad, depleted expression, that always reminded Minamo of who she was truly dealing with.
Of what her old, old friend was actually made of.
...you don't need anyone. No you don't. You've never...needed anyone in your life...
She had barely made it out. Minamo had barely, just barely, been able to pull herself together in the midst of her friend's kitchen, had barely been able to control her tear as she had sat at the table, desperately trying to cover over the core of herself, the most sensitive part of her heart that had been so briefly exposed to the one person that she had never wanted it to be shown to.
And it was all because of that face.
That sad longing face.
When her friend had shown her need, her desire, to always be in Minamo's good graces.
Why?
Her arms wrapped even more tightly around her legs.
Why in the world does someone like you...want to be around someone like me? Why do you want to stick by me, even when we fight so much...? Why?
An answer to her questions passed through her thoughts, and it instantly caused her heart to flare wildly.
...what do I mean to you...? Why...why do I always care so much...?
The feelings made their return again, the same intense emotions that had completely taken her in the morning, the ones that had thrown Yukari into a bout of confusion, wondering what in the world had just caused her to suffer such a terrible breakdown.
And Minamo had made sure, absolutely sure, to explain that it had nothing to do with her in the slightest of ways.
It was just the pressure of her life at the moment that had caused it all. That was it. It was was her mother's fault, her own fault, for why she had lost control of her emotions. It had nothing to do with her old friend, and she had vehemently stated that to her. Over and over again, throughout the morning, throughout the entire work day, whenever Yukari wanted to make sure everything was alright, Minamo had told her not to worry, that the root of problems didn't lay with her in the slightest.
The woman, of course, had totally and completely believed her.
Just like all those other times.
...you're not supposed to like anyone. Why...why do you want me to be you friend, then? Why? Don't you know...don't you question me...? Why don't you ever...question me...?
The memory continued to patch itself together, and as it did, she heard the words.
-Love letter-
It hammered through Minamo's attempts to bury it again, breaking through the locks that had bound it for so long, and her history began to unfold.
...why do you always...trust me?
Yukari. In the midst of her mind's eye, she could see Yukari, standing on the desk, with the letter, Minamo's dear, precious letter, gripped tightly in her hands.
And she was reading it. Yukari was reading it aloud to the group of classmates that surrounded her, doing so with that amused, mocking voice that she had become so infamous for, even in her very first year of high school, because everyone had quickly grown to fear it. It was almost an instinct, to be wary of the girl's voice whenever it had that humorous edge to it, because it was always a signal for the incoming taunts that would soon be spewed forth from her mouth, the barbs, the jests, the razor insults, that always gave their victims so much grief, and Yukari so much joy.
Minamo saw a smirk then, cutting across the girl's face. That painful, killer smirk that everyone knew so well.
...why was it you...?
Her hair was flailing about, that tangled bird's nest, a ribbon pinching it off, another one of the recognizable trademarks that made up the whole of this teenager, this delinquent who never had any qualms about being a rowdy, obnoxious, trouble-making brat.
Had no problems being a menace to all her classmates.
Nor being an instigator of ridiculous quarrels and fights.
Nor being a bully to anyone who she felt like being one to.
That's all you were...that's all you still are...
Minamo continued to watch it all. Yukari was still speaking. The girl was saying something to the class, motioning with a hand, pointing a finger.
Pointing right at her.
Right at where Minamo was standing in the doorway, who in turn was staring at everything with total and utter shock.
You...you're not... supposed to...
One of her classmates spoke up then, and then another, and another.
A discussion erupted, a whirlwind of gossip and theories now circulating about the homeroom, all of it set off by what that raucous girl on the desk had just orated so dramatically, so enthusiastically.
And it was her.
That girl.
That Tanizaki girl.
...but you still did it.
She was the one.
You...
She was the one who did it all.
...you!
She was the one, who, with that slanted, glinting grin of hers, had made the entire class burst out into laughter.
"Why did you do that?"
Minamo shook her head against her knees, hugging her legs dearly to herself as her cry echoed weakly around her.
Why did you do that, Yukari? I'll never understand...I never will. I don't get it. I don't...I don't...I don't. I'll never understand...I'll never get...what's in that head of yours...
The display on the bed stand clock hit 3:00 AM as moonlight spilled in from behind her, illuminating the book that Minamo was staring at so intensely as she sat upon the carpet in the darkness, her back to the balcony window.
It sucked her in completely, the old photo.
You're always so funny.
She ran a finger over one of them, pretending to massage the face of the girl that was depicted, an image of Yukari as she was back in high school, gleaming madly at the camera among a group of a few other students.
...you're always making me laugh. You're always...doing that...
Minamo's eyes burned in the image of her old friend as she continued to flip through the yearbook, a piece of her past that she hadn't touched, nor seen, since she had first obtained it during her initial year of high school. She had only pulled it out tonight, from the crumbled bottom of a cardboard box stuffed with other books, because she had felt it call out to her, this pull that had forced her to look at it again, commanded her to view it, even though she had always despised the thing, avoided it.
...oh.
She felt her chest seize up in cold terror.
There it is.
The photo she was now looking at laughed back at her.
...senpai.
In Minamo's mind, she heard it, all the laughter, all the disdain, the disgust, from what everyone had thought of her back then, when this picture had first been published. In front of the high school pool, there she was, nervously holding the hand of one of her seniors, pressing it, feeling it, caressing it...
...while being stupidly oblivious to that stare.
...she thought the same.
The chill began to flood the rest of her body with an old, familiar dread as she looked at her senpai's face, that beautiful, compassionate face that Minamo, at one point in her life, had been so enamored with, so fascinated with. But in this instance, in this particular photo, the usual serenity of the elder girl's face, that all of the other girls had known her so well for, was absent, having become twisted with a coat of suspicion, a terrible derision.
She hated me...just like everyone else.
Her lips began to shiver.
...everyone...everyon-
She quickly flipped back to a previous page, the one that had a photo of Yukari, and she allowed it to consume the entirety of her focus.
You won't let them.
A weak, thin smile spread across Minamo's face as she gazed in earnest at the yearbook, the fear of her senpaii, of the world, slowly dissipating as the wonderful warmth eradicated it.
I have you. That's all I need. You won't let them get me. You...you're so much better than she was. I don't care about senpai anymore. Not at all. No. Or anyone. Just you. Just...just my Yukari...mine. Only mine...no one else's...just...mine...
She began to drown herself in fantasy, the restraints on her true desires all but shattered now. Her mind was frayed and sleep-deprived, her body exhausted, her defenses down, and with that, her voracious heart was then free to feast.
...I still love you.
She closed the yearbook, embracing it to her chest, remembering the sole reason that she had kept such a toxic relic of her past as the high school images of Yukari filled her mind, consoling it.
I just want to be with you. I love you. I love you...I still love you, Yukari. Yukari...why aren't you here with me now? I want to see your face. I want to hear...I want to hear you talk...talk to me...and tell me that you'll stay with me, too, even when...when no one else will. Because...you need me...don't you? I...I need you...
For a moment, she recalled that scene when the woman was in front of her, shielding her from her mother's angry words.
...I need you...I need you to tell me...that you're ok with me, that you want me to be ok...that...you like me...that...you love me, like I love you...
All of the feelings would pass away again, just as they always had before, when the fissures in Minamo's self-awareness would gradually diminish, when the truth of her inner nature and personality would be covered over with a patchwork fix of self-delusions and guilt. But, for this night at least, the cravings that she had guarded so fervently from the outside world, the secrets from the deepest parts of her heart, would be allowed to run rampant.
The allure of women, it was there again, making her forget everything else. It came and went from time to time in her life, whenever Minamo was reminded of the possibility of loving her own gender, of loving a woman who everyone else couldn't seem to stand, but that she, somehow, had fallen in love with regardless, so many years ago.
A woman that she was still in love with, from the very first moment that she had connected with her on that sunny high school afternoon, forging a passion that was still fresh, still potent, even after she had long become an adult.
"Yukari..."
In a day, a few days, a week, she would recast the veil of Minamo Kurosawa over herself, a hard-working individual who just had some slight difficulty with men, which would always serve as the excuse as to why she was still single. It was, however, unknown to her of what a flimsy explanation that was, all the people that knew her always wondering as to how in the world that someone so kind, so wise, so attractive, could still be an unmarried woman at her age.
They always wondered, but Minamo had gotten by anyways, because she didn't have to tell the truth. Not to them, not to herself, not to anyone.
Because it was so easy to avoid.
It was easy to avoid the shame, that horrible, debilitating shame, that would destroy her.
Annihilate her.
So, she just avoided it.
Since lying was so easy.
Lie...
Minamo closed her eyes.
After all you did...after all I made you go through. Yukari...Yukari. If I told you...if I told you that I lied to you...every single time...every, single, time...
'...kindest...'
Before she drifted to sleep upon the floor of her apartment, before she would take on the guise once more, her real self spoke.
"...would you still tell me...that you love my smile...?"