Hello, my wonderfully devoted readers:D
I haven't updated in awhile because of a lot of personal family issues that I've been trying to deal with. I promise this is the last time that I will wait so long to update. So, please don't grow tired of me. Lastly, thank you to everyone who has been patient with me. You guys really don't know how much that means to me. On a side note, it would make me really happy if you guys review, especially constructive criticism:D
Also, if anyone is wondering why Akito hasn't made an appearance in the story as of yet, it is simply because I'm trying to make sure that the story doesn't solely focus on the Zodiac curse. Additionally, the paper that I keep referring to in this chapter is the paper Nakoruru gave to Machi in chapter 3. You'll see what I mean. Sorry this chapter is shorter than usual; I felt like it was dragging a bit so I cut it into two parts.
Italics - Flashback
'Italics' - lines from the paper
Disclaimer: You know the deal:D Also, the definitions of words throughout the chapter were taken from the Encarta World English Dictionary (Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation).
Chapter 6 - Without Emotion, Without Being
Shame [shaym]:
n.
Negative emotion: A negative emotion that combines feelings of dishonor, unworthiness, and embarrassment.
Perched on a chair with her knees tucked in, the young raven continued to stare out at the beating rain through the sole window of the darkened room. For some reason, a delirious smile graced her face as she sat quietly in her corner, hands trembling unintentionally.
It had been three weeks since that incident with her anxiety attack had taken place, while she'd only been staying at the Sohma estate for two. The sudden change in climate was a bit...awkward, to say in the least. She had to constantly make sure that she wasn't being followed by her father as she left school, and she mostly stayed out of everyone in the household's way, with the exceptions being Momiji and Haru - Momiji for obvious reasons, while Haru because he seemed to understand how out of place she felt. It was amazing to her that a person like him could also feel distant towards his own home.
It was almost weird how she was able to 'move into' the Sohma house without any interference from Kidemore. The part of her that had hoped that he would have at least pretended to fight for her to stay had been destroyed as soon as Hatori had come to get her. But she wasn't stupid; she knew that the way her father had...accepted Hatori's proposal without much complaint was too easy. He was planning something - Of what nature was what she needed to figure out.
She had a suspicious feeling that none of the bustling workers had taken a liking to her presence, considering the cold glares she would feel directed at the back of her head whenever she entered or exited a room besides her own. Either that, or they simply refused to acknowledge her existence as they continued on with their many tasks. She couldn't blame them though; she'd feel a bit antsy if a stranger moved into their territory without an explanation.
However, the weirdest part of living there was Hatsuharu's ever-changing personality; she never knew when he would snap so she always had to remain on edge around him.
"Although I don't enjoy the idea of your room being so close to hers, I guess I have no choice but to bear with it, if only for awhile." Hatori frowned as a hint of something unfamiliar - suspicious - shone in Haru's eyes before disappearing completely. "No, let me rephrase that, I detest this idea of you being near her."
"Aw, come on, you're making it sound as if you don't trust innocent me with little ol' Cherry-"
"That's exactly right; I don't trust you, Black Haru, which is why your door is to be open at all times. Don't try anything; I'm watching you."
Olive eyes hardened at the sight of the overstretched leer grazing the dark boy's face that he didn't even attempt to cover. To put it bluntly, Black Haru could not be trusted. For understandable reasons, of course.
The worst part about this had been that Nakoruru had witnessed this bizarre encounter on her way down to assist with breakfast. When had he even had the chance, as Hatori had so eloquently put it, to turn 'black'?
Shaking her head, her smile began to waiver as she began to realize why she felt so untrusting of this place.
This was safe; this was shelter.
But this wasn't home.
Nakoruru tried to block out the negative aura pulsing around her as she subconsciously fumbled to find a reason not to go, a reason to stay. Something, anything would be good enough for her. How about the fact that everyday she stayed with her sorry excuse of a father was another day of living in fear and shame. Or the fact that he never once looked at her as his daughter, but as a burden. Frustrated, pale fingers began to tear at her scalp as she fought to release the scream that had been hidden inside of her since before the whole ordeal of leaving had plagued her.
And here she was; back to where it all began.
Why, she thought as once downcast eyes looked up at the chipping ceiling, was it so hard to make the decision of whether or not she should stay in that place of hate? With the way things were for her here, the decision should have already been made, already been clear. This room, this barren but generous room was offered to her by Hatori, and yet here she was, contemplating instead of just staying. How long was the invitation even extended for? The Sohmas had been nothing but kind to her, never once pressuring her to open up to them completely about her prior situation. So young, so blind, so naïve.
So what was it, then, that bound her to her chains?
Her mother…Her beautiful, resting, pale mother.
The memory was still there, lingering. That was when the smile fell.
That house of shame that she wished to escape reminded her of her mother so much that it almost killed her to think of leaving. To leave would mean to abandon everything her mother had ever stood for because that house…
…Was where what was left of her identity remained. Her gentle, kind mother lived in that house before she escaped with her to America. It was where Minosa, lovely Minosa, tried her hardest to give her only daughter the life that she couldn't afford to abandon, a life where she would be protected from every harm that came her way.
An empty life that she barely managed to leave behind. And a life she eventually came back to, albeit spiritually.
Her mother had understood how hard it was to be known as a 'mutt' because of her mixed heritage; she had experienced the same hardships growing up in a country that was almost foreign to her because of her Dominican blood, a country that she could never call her home. This was what bound Nakoruru to her mother unrelentingly.
Snapping out of the trance that had sneakily crept up on her, Nakoruru abruptly stood and forced her head to remain down as she thought of how much pain she was forced to go through since childhood, all because of that one little mistake that her loving mother had made. Her mother knew that Kidemore was a horrible, wretched man who only cared for himself and despised those who he felt threatened by and yet she was foolish enough to believe that he wouldn't ruin her because she bore him a daughter. And what kind of a father would hurt his own daughter, right?
She couldn't have been more wrong. Because Hibiki Minosa also had a past; it was one that he knew of very well and wouldn't have been afraid of using against her, even in death. It wasn't as wicked as Kidemore's, but something more than just a little bump on a radar. A past that Nakoruru would never come to know.
Because he hadn't been alone in the deceit; oh no, Minosa, sweet, kind Minosa, was just as guilty for doing illegal acts in the past as he was. Acts that would've gotten Nakoruru taken away a long time ago. But she had changed; she had known that with Nakoruru's birth came a wave of responsibilities. And that was the reason why she knew she had to leave with Nakoruru. To escape to the one place she knew where he would never find them.
For Nakoruru's sake, her past could not catch up with her.
Grabbing an umbrella, mauve eyes looked back at the window as her feet guided her towards the door, towards the bitter cold. This house could never be her home. She appreciated their kindness, but everything was happening way too fast, way too soon and she didn't know how to handle it.
Closing the door behind her, Nakoruru headed out into the pouring, bleeding rain towards the one place she knew they wouldn't think to look for her as she pushed thoughts of her mother aside. It wouldn't do good to speak poorly of her mother, for she was the only safe haven she had once had against him. No matter what she had done to put Nakoruru in this situation, she'd always remain her mother. And Nakoruru would always love her, despite her flaws and all. Even the mistakes that resulted in the end of her life could be looked over, couldn't they?
Little by little, she was finally coming to terms with herself and the desperate situation at hand. She couldn't let it get to her, she couldn't let him get to her.
The rain continued to beat down on her, eyes roaming in her head as eyelids began to close. No no no, this wouldn't do. She couldn't allow her true feelings to seep through; the hurt of being abandoned had to be sealed away. Pulling her dark blue hood over her head, clenched fists were shoved into pockets as all emotions were forced to remain behind a neutral face.
And in some ways she thought - her feet gaining speed as she broke into a full run, trying to escape the thoughts suffocating her, the truth holding her -
And in some ways, Minosa Kokiri….wasn't any different from Kidemore at all.
"I needed you mother…"
More than you'll ever know.
And the memory finally began to fade.
Pity (pit·y) [píttee]:
n
Feeling of sympathy: a feeling of sadness because of another person's trouble or suffering, or the capacity to feel this.
The brunette stood in front of the broken kitchen table as she placed the phone into its receiver, ignoring the sudden kink in her left arm as her mother's voice flew through her. And it was always the same; her mother would "grace" her with a call to see if she were still alive, she would politely answer and listen to her mother's request - which were intended to be demands that she had no choice but to follow, and then the conversation would be over. It would be as if the five minute phone call between them had never existed, and her mother would revert to acting like she was barely there.
Such was normal on a Tuesday.
Placing her hand into plaid pockets, Machi pulled out a piece of paper and put it on the table, seemingly distracted with thoughts of her cold and distant mother. It had remained in her pocket since the day Nakoruru had given it to her in class, claiming that she wanted Machi to get to know her better.
What would an irrelevant piece of paper tell her that Nakoruru couldn't?
Fingers absently stroking the wrinkled paper that she had long ago decided was too hard to decipher, she allowed herself to get lost in thought completely as she pondered on the meaning of the contents contained within it. If Nakoruru had wanted her to understand some unknown event pertained on the paper, then why had she only given her the first page and kept the rest for herself?
Reading a few lines at random, she slowed her fingers to a halt on a particular line that popped out to her. Placing the page under closer scrutiny, eyes widened slightly as she finally realized exactly what the page was. Hadn't Nakoruru told her something about becoming an English teacher or author or something else of the sort? The first page seemed to be filled with evasive sentences that seemed to be connected together, almost like a manuscript of some sort. But why would she give this to her?
'It really wasn't his burden to bear, but he had no choice but to…'
Sighing, the only conclusion that the brunette could come up was that the raven-haired girl was not "all there". What else could explain why the girl had entrusted something that seemed to be of great importance to her, judging by the way she had kept it crease-free before giving it to Machi, to someone that she had only just began to talk to? And why else would it be so normal for her to jump straight to using nicknames for a stranger, something Machi never felt the need to do since she was close to no one.
Hence the fact that Nakoruru was...weird.
In a nice kind of way, of course. Because although she had shunned herself from everyone, Nakoruru had blatantly ignored the fact and stubbornly crashed through her self-woven barrier; she wasn't intimated at all by her seemingly cold demeanor. She was loud when she saw there was a purpose, something that Machi could never do. To put it simply, they were exact opposites. Where others had judged Machi, she had accepted her. And for that, she would be forever grateful.
Breaking away from her train of thought, Machi looked up at the sound of light knocking. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, she placed the manuscript in her pocket as she walked slowly to the door, wondering who it could be since not that many people knew where she lived.
Opening the door, she hadn't prepared herself for the sight that greeted her.
"…Nakoruru-san?"
"I see you've reverted back to calling me by my name. Can I come in?" Black hair was plastered to her face as Nakoruru removed cold hands from the drenched pockets of her hoodie. Noticing her slight shivering, Machi stepped aside ignoring the questions that had arisen in her head regarding the girl's blatantly sour mood as she took in her wet appearance. Had it been raining? Watching her walk with her head bowed, she couldn't help but feel a little bad for the girl in front of her - Well, as bad as one could feel without knowing anything.
"So…how has your stay at the Sohma house been so far ?" An unreadable look passed over Nakoruru's face so quickly that Machi barely had time to register her walking past her to sit down on the sole brown sofa in the room.
The dull stare she received made her flinch and hesitate from putting a hand on her knee.
"Just fine." Why was she brooding? Resisting the urge to scratch her head in confusion at Nakoruru's behavior, Machi instead decided to excuse herself to make a quick phone call. It was obvious that she wasn't going to get a reason as to why the girl was so…bitter, so she thought of calling the one person that most likely could. Machi frowned at the angry look on her friend's face, who's elbows were leaning against her legs as her chin rested in her palms. Nakoruru had to bear with her; Machi wasn't one to ask questions, let alone speak without purpose or reason.
Machi allowed the dull sound of the phone ringing on the other end to pull her into a trance as she waited for the phone to be answered.
"...Hello?"
"Hello. This is Machi Kuragi. I need your help."
Pride (pride) [prīd ]:
n
Proper sense of own value: the correct level of respect for the importance and value of your personal character, life, efforts, or achievements.
Standing still, Nakoruru sighed in awe as she took in the pastel-colored scenery surrounding her. Children dressed in kimonos with hues of blue, green, and red chased after the cherry blossom leaves that were blown in every direction. Her vision was filled with vivid colors; Maruyama Park was known for its wide array of cherry blossom festivals.
"Thank you for bringing me here, Haru-kun. I really needed this."
Sliding down a cherry blossom tree, Nakoruru covered her knees with the bottom of her flowing teal dress. Looking at the tall boy, Nakoruru grabbed Haru's hand, who had opted to stand, and pulled him down next to her. Ignoring the blank look she received from him, she placed her leatherbound notebook into her lap, words flying from the pen easily. The smell of fresh flowers reminded her of this time of year; only spring could invoke these peaceful feelings.
Looking up at the shadow being cast on her notebook, she tensed when she noticed how close the ox's face was to hers suddenly.
"What were you so upset about before?" Sighing, the raven closed her eyes in exhaustion. That is, until she felt her book slip from her fingers, only to end up in the hands held high above her head.
"What are you-"
"Reading. Your story's good. Really good. You should've let me read this sooner." Nodding slowly, Nakoruru looked down as she laced her fingers together, hands in lap.
"Considering the fact that you snatched my book away from me, I didn't really have a say or choice in the matter, now did I?"
"You're not very...lively today." Averting her gaze, Nakoruru bit down the guilt that threatened to surface at his blunt honesty. Her fingers ceased all movement as she scooted closer to him, a gesture that she hoped would convey how apologetic she was for her mood.
"...I had a dream last night. The same one I've been having every night; it's been on my mind for awhile."
"So that's why you were sitting in the same place for two days straight last week. We were beginning to get…worried about you." Grey eyes flickered towards the right, a compassionate expression being set on a pale face. "Have you talked to anyone about this? Hatori's a good listener."
"No! I mean, I don't need to since it's nothing serious. I can deal with it on my own. But...it must be nice to have friends and family that care so much about you..."
The smile that ghosted her face as she said this did not phase him; the fact that there was no emotion in her voice was what scared him the most. He recognized the tone from someone else he knew, the same toxic person who he had tried hard to get over. It was almost...eerie how alike they were in this exact moment.
The grin remained as unfocused eyes gazed ahead, ignoring the shifting next to her. Haru, now sitting closer to Nakoruru, simply put his right arm around her, gently coaxing her into placing her head onto his shoulder. Stroking her hair affectionately as he heard her soft breaths begin to slow down, he waited until he felt her relax against him before he spoke.
"I know that this will sound a bit cliché but if you give it time, you'll come to see that we care about you too."
Disgrace (dis·grace) [ diss gráyss ]
n
Cause of shame or disrespect: a cause of shame or loss of respect.
Guilt flowed down her throat, the bitter taste of copper burning her tongue as dilated eyes were forced shut. Ragged breaths were steadied in a failed attempt of calming down as fists clenched tightly from the images of her childhood floating in her head. Visions of deceit, shame, regret blinded her; these memories held no meaning to her now.
Getting up slowly, Nakoruru swiftly rubbed her eyes to rid herself of the aftertaste of the nightmare. Fear struck her as the pure adrenaline from last night's horror came crashing down. The pure metallic scent of blood escaped through the walls of the closet as she covered herself in the moist, dirty, and worn blanket.
"What's wrong with me?" was the harsh whisper that echoed as she ungracefully threw herself into the bathroom and locked the door. Sweat rolled down her forehead as shivers ran through her body. Standing in the dark, a flickering hate for everything her life stood for forced her to grit her teeth. Sticking pale hands under the running faucet, she threw cool water on her face and shook her head so as to clear her mind.
"This has to stop." Staring at the person behind the mirror, Nakoruru didn't bat an eye at the lines of red that decorated purple orbs.
Disgrace, pity, and pride held meaning now.
Sorry if the chapter seemed a bit vague. More will be explained in the upcoming chapters. Until next time.
Ja ne!