Second part...just as long as the first, but not quite as confusing.
Enjoy.
They debated strategy, although it was nothing that a general would recognize, or even a historian. Most of what they argued out was in terms of philosophy – meaning a jumbled mess of definitions and quotes and all sorts of problems that had no conceivable solution but were still out there, waiting to be solved. It was a chaotic session of brainstorming that took up all of their energy and left them very much ready to sleep after it was over.
In the end, they came up with hundreds of plans, all of which had some problem or another, and most of which were simply revised versions of each other. The true answer stood out of their reach, which frustrated both to no end.
Izumi mentioned the failures to her companion, rather disheartened. He sighed quietly in response. And what did you expect, princess? For a solution to drop out of the sky?
Even if it did, it wouldn't reach us here, she pointed out dryly, completely passing over the main part of his comment. Unfortunately, Kouji would not be ignored, and he continued to badger her with their lack of progress until she snapped at him to shut up.
Then he laughed and mimed, I told you so.
If you have the time to talk, you have the time to think.
So do you, he pointed out, before doing as she asked. Can you feel the contract yet?
What? Izumi rolled her eyes up to look at him.
The contract.
Are we talking about the one that I supposedly made that dropped me here?
Yes.
Am I supposed to feel it?
Kouji sighed a little impatiently. Do you remember when you first came here?
Yes. She thought back to it. As hazy and sleepy as the memory was, at least it was still there. But she couldn't remember anything strange about it. Was there supposed to be?
But you don't feel it? Kouji sounded skeptical, just enough to annoy her.
It might help if you told me what to look for.
Never mind, then.
Kouji?
He waited, patiently, for her to continue. That made her sigh inwardly; something about him just radiated calm and peace, but not the kind that war-torn countries wished for. To Izumi, his peace was more like the peace that came just before death, knowing that the world couldn't be changed anymore. It was better when Kouji spoke, because then he didn't seem quite so lifeless. Izumi tried to keep him like that as much as possible, but it was hard. When the wall of silence slammed down, there was no breaking it.
Do you feel it?
He didn't answer for so long that she almost gave up. Then, just as suddenly, he picked up where the conversation left off. The contract?
Yeah.
Yes. I remember being asked for my name, and then being told that I don't have one anymore.
She blinked, then said accusingly, The water asked you?
No.
And that was it. The look in his eyes was so forbidding that Izumi promptly bit back the half-formed question in her head. Instead, she asked, What happened then?
I entered the contract.
Just like that?
Just like that.
But I haven't been asked for my name. Izumi paused, then her eyes widened. You don't even know my name, do you? I'm sorry. I didn't realize…
It doesn't matter. You'll always be Princess to me.
She groaned silently in her head. Right. But I don't know what you're talking about, so I guess the answer to your question is no…
I suppose.
Kouji, why is this place immortal?
He gave a slight shrug. Because it's water. And it represents the beginning of time.
Just for that?
What else could it be? If it's just the beginning, why would it need to move forward?
She chewed her lip, feeling somewhat self-conscious. Why do people think that immortality is such a wonderful thing?
Because they don't have it. Kouji reached a hand down to toss a few stray yellow hairs back. Izumi watched him detachedly. He seemed to do that a lot. For someone as quiet as he was, Kouji was surprisingly tactile. Have you accepted it yet? The immortality.
She shook her head tiredly. Is there anything else that it's giving us? Tell me now. I don't like surprises, Kouji.
Well – the spirals, but that's related to the immortality issue.
Spirals?
The ones I gave you to drink.
Oh, those. Why did you give them to me anyway? Izumi began to fidget slightly with her hair, which was still growing, and rather quickly too.
Because it seemed like the right thing to do. Kouji actually pulled himself partly out of the water to sit on the thick wall of books. Izumi felt a faint pang of jealousy – he was obviously much more comfortable there than she was here, but after sleeping most of her time away it was doubtful that she had enough strength to pull herself up. However, she didn't get a chance to ask before Kouji suddenly swooped down and gripped her elbows firmly, dragging her up before she even knew what was happening.
You should ask next time, he chastised. She hung her head to hide the blush. It was hardly an appropriate reaction if she wanted to be taken seriously. Instead, she motioned to her arms, which were still lying flat against his palms.
Kouji let go of her quickly, but didn't move very far away. She could feel his clean, focused aura brushing up against her. It lulled her into a temporary feeling of security before she realized what was happening and quickly redirected the conversation. Kouji. What are those spirals for?
Drinking.
I know that, she hissed, exasperated. But why?
Who knows? I suppose you can look at it as food.
But we can't die here. Not of starvation or anything else.
Not that kind of food. As far as I can tell, it's made of the same thing that the water is.
She stared at him, horrified. Wait. So all this time, I've been eating somebody's thoughts?
Is there any other explanation?
Izumi pulled her legs up until she could lean on her knees. The water lapping innocently at the edge of the wall suddenly became an evil thing, to be avoided at all costs. Now, more than ever, Izumi didn't care what happened to her as long as she could leave and never come out of her room again. There has to be a way out.
Why?
Why what?
Why does there have to be an exit?
She blinked owlishly at Kouji's serious face. Because there was an entrance, she retorted glibly.
He stared at her before letting his forehead drop dejectedly. And with that absolutely irrefutable logic…
Why not?
Hm?
Why shouldn't I believe that there's an exit?
Because there might not be one, princess. He sounded tired, though of what she didn't know.
What's your point? If there is a way out, we'll find it. If there isn't, we haven't wasted any time. Immortal, remember?
Waves of displeased understanding drifted around his mental barriers and brushed against her insistently. She tensed, sensing a potential blow-up, but nothing happened. After a while, she felt cautiously optimistic that he would agree with her.
He didn't. The look on his face proved it. But the seed of doubt had been planted, and Izumi thought that a few more days spent digesting her opinion would do him good.
They returned to their debate even more furiously than before.
Without anything to help them keep track of time, they decided to walk along the entire circumference of the circular wall. According to Kouji, the wall had been there for a very long time, to keep the water level in control. There was a second outer wall with a smooth, plaster-like surface, but the piles of books dropped off so suddenly into nothing that it was impossible to see where it ended. She tried to peer into the darkness, but couldn't make out anything at the bottom. In fact, the only flickers of light came from the cracks in the wall of books, which made Izumi think that there must be something hidden behind them.
Kouji agreed, but rather pointedly told her that he didn't want to find out. Obviously, he was just as wary of the place as she was – just better at hiding it. Izumi was grateful. She didn't want to be alone in her nervousness.
Ever since then, Izumi hadn't stepped into the water. She absolutely refused, not that Kouji could fault her for it. Somehow, the atmosphere wasn't quite as oppressive on dry ground. And after spending a while there, the drowsy spells completely vanished. Izumi worked herself into a frenzy about it, realizing that somehow the water had been draining her body's energy. She probably would have done something reckless if Kouji hadn't shut down parts of her mind and sent her into temporary paralysis.
In hindsight Izumi understood why he had done it. Understanding, however, did not equate forgiveness. A cold shoulder was pretty effective now that she knew how to control her thoughts. Izumi figured that he deserved it.
Plus, it was too much fun to pass up.
Chances to see someone as calm as Kouji all riled up only came once in a blue moon, after all.
But that little bit of fun wouldn't last long. Izumi needed actual cooperation if she wanted to get out of here. There was only so much she was willing to do alone.
They had gone back to exploring the place separately, which was probably his way of giving her room to vent without making himself a convenient punching bag. Not that she could punch hard. But he probably couldn't either.
Still, Izumi wasn't sure how long he would stay on her side. Kouji didn't need her as much as she needed him. That was the sad truth of things. He just didn't want to leave as much as she did, even if he was willingly joining her. Izumi groaned quietly against her hands, and tried to focus on ways to make a truce with him without backing down.
She stepped over a stray book on the ground, and from there she was able to determine the direction of their meeting place. It was too dark to see far, even though the ground was completely flat and empty of obstacles. So, they relied on strategically placed landmarks to find their way back without accidentally falling into the water. Human eyes could only adjust so much to absolute darkness, after all.
He was waiting for her, but not where she was expecting him. They were much farther from the water than usual today, and she asked somewhat hesitantly, Kouji?
The strained composure in his eyes would have been amusing if it hadn't been mixed with concern. Her stomach flipped. Are you alright, princess?
What on earth…what's wrong? A little nervousness bled into her thoughts, simply because she was curious and worried and vigorously denying all of it.
Stay still. His fingers quickly swept down on her shoulders, flattening the bounce of her hair. You're really alright?
She stared. Did something happen?
I thought…maybe…never mind. He lifted his hands and shrugged. Maybe it was paranoia.
Hold it. Why were you so worried?
Kouji took her hand to lead her back to the water edge, and she let him, realizing that he was just trying to calm himself down. It might be easier to let you see.
And she saw.
Piles of books had toppled over into a mess of dazzling white light. Izumi gaped at the sudden luminescence in the water and unthinkingly moved closer. When the books under her legs began to sway, she panicked and grabbed onto whatever was closest – which happened to be Kouji. He looked startled but held on tight, pulling her back from the teetering pile of bound paper.
She breathed a sigh of relief and slung her arms over him. Thank you.
Not like I could have left you there, you know.
You could do the polite thing and say no problem, like a normal person.
Am I normal?
Izumi fisted her hands into the bandages and realized that they were loose. As she tied them up again, she quietly berated him. You could be if you wanted.
And if I don't want to?
Then you won't be. Simple as that.
What about you?
The white strips over his left shoulder were stubborn and she stopped to unravel the coils on the entire side before redoing them. I've never been normal. Why should I start now?
There was a wry look on his face. I see. No wonder you were accepted.
Accepted?
Did you think that the water takes in everyone that it sees?
I…no, she breathed out harshly. Since we were the only ones here.
It wasn't always like that.
Really? That was news to her. Kouji had never spoken of any other people. Admittedly, he was just as wary of talking as Izumi, but that was no reason to keep these things to himself. They got along well, but every little fact that he hadn't told her broke the illusion of friendship. She felt strangely disappointed.
Yes. There was another person here before me. But he's gone now.
Who was it?
I don't know. He gave a half-hearted shrug. He taught me to mime. And then he told me to forgive him. I haven't seen him since.
Forgive him? Why?
He left. Kouji said it so blandly and neutrally that it actually surprised her. Izumi would've been much more upset about being abandoned like that. But Kouji took it in a stride. Maybe because he didn't mind being alone? That would be understandable. Was it easier to put up with the water when there was nothing else around you?
Izumi wondered about it, but decided not to ask. They had a tacit agreement not to mention certain subjects, and loneliness was one of them. How? You said we couldn't get out.
No, Princess. I said that we couldn't go back to our old lives.
What's the difference?
You can leave without going anywhere.
Izumi opened and closed her mouth, shivering ever so slightly. All of a sudden, she didn't want to know what had happened. What was his name?
He never told me. But he was blond. Kouji tucked one of her stray hairs behind her ear. Like you.
Hmm. Perhaps it wasn't so easy for him to be alone after all. She finished off the knot in the back and passed her hands over the entire thing to make sure that it was secure.
Thank you.
That made her smile. See, common courtesy. It's not so hard, is it?
You are such a princess.
Why did you start calling me that, by the way?
Why not? It fits.
Right, right, she scowled quietly. In that case I should call you a mummy.
A mummy?
Yeah. It's an Egyptian tradition. To completely cover people's bodies with bandages after they die. Izumi blinked at him in wonder. There were such enormous gaps in Kouji's knowledge. He could tell her all sorts of stories about the first fish and plants and animals, but everything more recent than the Stone Age was completely blanked out. Besides a few spotty basics about the World Wars and telephones, Kouji seemed to have no awareness of humanity at all. She shook that train of thought off before it distracted her from the conversation; however, the curiosity lingered at the back of her mind.
My face isn't covered.
She stared at him blankly, so he clarified.
I don't think that the analogy fits. I've only got bandages on my chest.
And shoulders, she pointed out.
…and shoulders.
What's your point? I don't even act like a real princess, but you still call me one.
He scooped her up and sat down, holding her against him securely. Izumi squeaked softly and pumped her legs up in an effort to get him to let go. Kouji just shoved a thick wave of amusement over through their mental link, which made her sputter indignantly. And yet, you never tell me to stop.
Stop what?
Stop calling you princess.
…Oh, really? She smiled under the cover of her hair.
Kouji didn't reply; he didn't need to. Instead, his head tilted in acknowledgment.
They lay there watching the light play. It was now completely obvious that whatever the pool was made out of, it wasn't water. Instead of reflecting and shining back at them, the stream of light beamed at them hazily. It was like looking at a sunrise on a foggy morning.
It looks very bright, she commented.
He nodded in agreement. Because it usually isn't.
I think it's beautiful, though. Even if it hurts my eyes.
As if in reply, another chunk of the books suddenly tore out, and Izumi hissed in shock. Kouji pulled her up quickly, and they stood watching as more light and mist pooled around the new cracks. Although the clouds were blocking view of what was happening, the steadily increasing brightness was alarming. Like dominoes, the wall was coming down.
Izumi's fingers fluttered against the arm around her waist. Kouji…
It knows.
Who? The water?
Yes. I told you, it's not normal.
Is it actually alive?
It might as well be. Kouji's lips were pressed into a thin line, and the unobtrusive blank mask was dissolving. She could actually see the watchfulness on his face. At some point, he must have decided that hiding and waiting wouldn't help their cause. She was glad to see the change.
The imposed silence had done its job well.
Kouji turned to catch her eye. There was a look of grim respect on his face. Well played.
Ah. Izumi turned away with a blush. She must have forgotten to hide her thoughts again.
At least he wasn't mad at her for a little bit of manipulation. Or maybe he was and he just didn't show it. Either way, she didn't want to waste time thinking about anything but escaping. Izumi knew that if she got distracted now, it would take a long time to refocus. She wanted to escape as soon as possible, after all. Something cold brushed her feet, and she jumped back, nearly colliding with Kouji. He sidestepped at the last minute, and her momentum barely slowed down in time for her to regain her balance.
The water level was rising. They could see it happening in a rush of blue and white, seeping up between the books. Izumi suddenly felt cold, so she rubbed her upper arms mechanically.
Is it alive or not? She waited for a response, feeling him shift behind her. Well?
It isn't dead. What else do you need to know?
Not being dead and being alive are very different, Kouji.
Why do you expect me to know? I am not omniscient, princess.
Izumi gritted her teeth. Bantering aside, she just knew that there was something he wasn't telling her. This quiet and supportive phase that Kouji was going through was very suspicious. After all, he insisted that there was nothing they could do, so why would he let her waste time on escape plans? On the other hand, Izumi knew that it was just a matter of asking the right question – if nothing else, Kouji was a master of omission – but along with grudging respect for being able to avoid answering for such a long time, she was starting to feel annoyed.
Kouji, she murmured into his mind, summoning up a deep-seated frustration. Kouji.
Princess.
How does the water tell you things?
Even though she wasn't facing him, Izumi could feel the rigidity that settled in his backbone, a sensation of tenseness jutting out against her head like a sharp spike. Then it vanished just as quickly as it had come. At any point, Izumi's attention was completely commanded by the mist gathering around her ankles with no sign of letting up. In bits and pieces, exhaustion pooled in the pit of her stomach and penetrated deep into her leg muscles. She wondered, briefly, if Kouji was going through the same thing.
The whisper of moisture was up to her calves. She gulped and sighed aloud.
Stay awake, princess. Then you'll see how the water talks.
That got her attention, but her body was already slumping over. Tired.
Yes. Kouji guided her around to lean on his shoulder. Princess, don't close your eyes.
Just for a little bit, Kouji.
No. The hard edge in his voice caught her attention, and she blinked slowly. Pay attention. If you sleep, you won't wake up.
Her blood ran cold and she threw off the invading chill. Kouji, what's happening?
You insulted it again.
What?
It hurts your eyes, remember?
That…she stared up at him in horror. Dark spots appeared in her peripheral vision, but she ignored them for as long as she could. It understands me, doesn't it?
He looked faintly disbelieving. It's made of thoughts. If it didn't understand, how would it keep growing?
It can grow? With new thoughts?
Yes.
She stared at the water at their feet, and tried to move. Her muscles felt languid and Izumi had to suck in a few deep breaths before she could even shift her weight around. Whose thoughts are those, then?
Probably yours.
What do you mean?
He blinked slightly and looked at her. The extra water must come from your negative thoughts. Are you still angry?
Angry?
About how it sapped you of your energy? Or about how it fed you someone else's life force?
No, why…oh. She suddenly tried to summon up all of her memories of the place, only to realize that there were so many holes that there was barely any coherency left. Stunned, she began to sink to her knees. Kouji let her slump against him, but with the steadily rising mist that thickened around their legs, Izumi began to slide down little by little.
She breathed out slowly. It's so petty.
What is?
Throwing books around just because I indirectly insulted it.
There were the beginnings of a smile on his face. Izumi felt her cheeks warm and instinctively covered the blush with both hands. Her teeth chattered. When Izumi realized what she was doing, she let her jaw click back into place with a loud snap. After a while, the heat melted back into her skin and the color of her face returned to its normal peachy white.
Are you alright? When Izumi didn't respond at first, he shook her slightly. Princess?
We can't fight it, can we?
You already are.
…and you aren't?
Kouji replied, with tired honesty, I don't know how. I've been here so long that it's a part of me. I belong here. Or rather, I am a part of here.
And you don't ever want to leave? Izumi sounded horribly skeptical. But then again, she could see why he was so accepting. Immortality wasn't so bad if you spent most of it asleep. It was peaceful. And there were books.
I don't know. Kouji inclined his head forward so that his lips were brushing the bridge of her nose.
She winced as a cold line ran up her legs and suddenly submerged them both to the waist. It was too chilly for her to doze off, so instead she tried to distract herself with Kouji's bandages.
He let her trace patterns on the white ribbons before taking her hands and laying them flat on his chest. What is it like? On the outside?
You really don't know?
The water, he said simply.
She bit her lip and tried to feel angry on his behalf, but all that came out was a distant sense of sorrow. At this point, Izumi knew just how blissful ignorance could be, and she saw no reason to change something that had obviously worked for him. It's very bright, because of the sun. And there's night, too, when it sets…and it looks a lot like this place, actually. The water's colder, and wetter, and when you touch it some of the drops stay on your skin for a long time.
The water is actually solid?
Er, well, we actually don't consider it a solid…it's actually a liquid. No, never mind. It's a science thing. She chewed on her lip, grateful for Kouji's honest attempt at making small talk.
Science. I think I remember something about that…
You came from the outside, right?
Maybe. But I don't consider it my home.
You can't just erase your past like that, Kouji.
Listen, princess. Time is meaningless here. Learn to think in terms of the present, or learn to keep your thoughts safe.
She shuddered at the warning. I'll try.
Kouji tightened his arms around her. I hope you do.
Neither mentioned the fact that they probably would not have the chance to do anything. Making statements of hopelessness was reserved for moments of optimism. Izumi seriously wanted to laugh. Why was it that they only brought up fate and inevitability when it was not dangling in front of their faces?
The water was up to their chins. Izumi laid her head against his shoulder, feeling indescribably heavy. I wonder if we can drown to death here.
Even if we could, we won't.
How can you be so sure?
If you die, you won't be able to think anymore. And if you can't make new thoughts, then what's the point of keeping you here? The water needs your memories.
You make it sound almost human, she muttered accusingly.
Do I?
The question was obviously rhetorical, so she ignored it completely. What's going to happen to us?
Depends. It's been a while since we got out of the water – so you'll probably lose quite a few thoughts. Making up for lost time.
What about you?
His breath passed over her ear, but it didn't feel warm at all. She touched his cool skin and shuddered. Not for the first time, Izumi wondered whether her companion was even alive anymore. He called himself a memory, after all…
Princess, I'll be fine. It wouldn't be the first time.
You've tried getting out before, Kouji? Izumi stared at him in disbelief. But it made sense, now that she thought about it. Wasn't it always Kouji who shot down plan after plan, quietly citing obscure rules about power and time? Where would he have learned those things if not from bitter experience? Izumi bit her lip contemplatively, wondering what he had tried to do…and why he had given up.
I must have. But I don't really remember. That wasn't completely true, and Izumi sent a wave of displeasure at his overtired evasions. He winced slightly as if in pain. Princess, stop it.
Tell me the truth.
I am.
No, you aren't.
I can't lie to you, princess. Not without lying to myself. He sounded amused. Miming…
Is the direct transfer of thoughts. I know, I know. But you only said that you couldn't lie. You didn't say anything about telling the complete truth.
Princess, the water.
She swallowed hard; cold mist lapped against her mouth and she held her breath. Kouji lifted her up slightly and let her cling to his neck, but it only bought her a few inches. And she could already feel the holes boring into her memories, like an army of ants crawling inside her head. Kouji, do you know if the water can talk?
It can.
Gently, she slipped her hands under the surface to where he was holding her around her waist. Let go, then.
…Giving up?
Never. Izumi ran a hand under her long hair, wondering what she should do – what she could do. But I don't plan to wait for the inevitable.
He nodded a little jerkily; she felt the vibration against her chest. Go.
She dropped and made no splash in the water.
Immediately, colors inverted and she was staring at a brilliant white landscape. It was dazzling and for the briefest moment, she was lost and didn't know what to do. Surprisingly, the closer she got, the warmer it was, until it nearly burned to touch.
"Who are you?" Izumi didn't even realize that she had opened her mouth to say it until water rushed in and choked her up. Even though the moisture stung in her chest, she clenched her jaw and refused to cough. Blood pounded in her ears. Buoyed by some invisible force, Izumi began to float laterally toward the source of the light.
Every sensation in her body, including the pain, was fading. Izumi tried to move her fingers and toes. Nothing happened, but she was too far gone to feel panicked.
She opened her mouth and began choking again. That alone wasn't painful, but the mist around her suddenly began pulsing agitatedly. Izumi blinked slowly, before understanding dawned. She breathed in and out, not caring if the moisture clogged up her lungs. That was exactly what she wanted. Although her body had been almost numb before this, the slightest ache returned to her chest and made her gasp. That started a vicious cycle of breathing and choking. She grinned victoriously as the waves grew frenzied around her, tightly pressed against her skin.
"Take that," she said, making sure to force another big wave of mist into her lungs at the same time. "That, that, that." Her body rebelled, protesting against the pool of liquid that suddenly saturated her lungs and blocked the delicate airways. It hurt in ways that she wasn't quite ready for, but in the end didn't the ends justify the means?
The mist suddenly retreated, leaving her to float in a vast sea of nothingness. Izumi blinked in surprise.
Soft whispers of liquid clung to her body and suddenly caught her in a full body bind. She hissed at how tightly the lines indented into her skin. And then, hanging off of the delicate fibers like a pitiful insect caught up in a spider's web, Izumi slowly raised her eyes to stare at the mass of water in front of her.
It was a shapeless, formless ball of light. Every so often, it would pulse the long tendrils that extended outward from the center, and then tiny rays of light would follow along those pathways. But Izumi wasn't terribly concerned about what it was doing. Instead, she carefully twisted her limbs around, testing the limits of her makeshift cage.
A ripple of power, and then. Fury. Pain. Sadness. Desperation. Breaking.
Swallowing hard, Izumi slowly let her limbs fall limp against the mist. No wonder Kouji had been so hesitant to help her. The chaotically organized barrier of her mind was completely shredded under the onslaught, and she whimpered.
So much anger. Izumi trembled, mouth open and ragged gasps forcing their way in and out of her lungs. So much…where did all this hate come from? Was it really so bad that the water took these emotions away? She closed her eyes, uselessly, because her memories dripped away like tiny snowflakes in the sun. And then something ripped, whether it was in her or in the water she didn't know, but something did.
A pool of red suddenly flooded her vision, and Izumi let out a faint groan. The scent of blood woke up her drowsy brain, but it came along with a thick wave of nausea. Izumi just wanted to curl up into a delicate little ball and wait for the world to go away. Her hands clenched into fists, quietly and rejectingly.
"Is that really it?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "You're not…the beginning of the earth. You're just pain. That's all?"
A frenzied hiss escaped the thick, translucent mass.
She smiled bitterly. "I get it. I get it. You needed me to hate you, right?"
As if in remorse, a few thin streams of mist touched her face, gently stroking the apple of her cheek. When they retracted, something pulled away from the surface of her skin, and Izumi stared as the tube of liquid elongated.
"Please stop," she said quietly. Then it kept going, and Izumi threw it off with a sharp flick of her head. More firmly, she said, "Stop."
Tiny drops hovered in the air, separated from the rest of the water. They floated up to her and suddenly splashed against Izumi's eyes. A dizzying sense of vertigo knocked her back a little, but she eventually recovered well enough to see – herself? Concentrating on the newly returned memory, a brief argument with her aging mother approximately six years ago, Izumi didn't notice anything special about it. That was until she saw herself leaving the room…and realized that the flashback was from her mother's perspective.
She floated between shock and confusion. How did her mother's memories end up in a place like this?
Another drop clipped away from the water and she smacked it away, not wanting to see where this was going to go. The tugging feeling in her stomach doubled, and Izumi suddenly realized that her bonds had been loosened. She took advantage of that now, and sucked her stomach in as the strands slid easily over her body.
Izumi saw the wave coming at her too late to avoid it and ended up completely submerged again. She sputtered and kicked with her legs, and something more solid than water caught around her ankle. Even though it was difficult seeing anything in the foggy sea, Izumi managed to pull her leg up with her hands.
A tangled web of white spirals locked together into a chain around her ankle. Letting go, Izumi began to scan the rest of the sea, looking for more makeshift manacles, and now that she was actively searching for them, the little spots of white were very easy to pick out against the grayness of the water. Chains extended outward like spokes of a wheel, all coming from the white light.
Uneasily, Izumi touched the spirals around her ankle. They didn't sting to touch, so she grabbed the knotted lines and tried to pull them apart. The ends unraveled, but at the very center, the loops were tight and held fast. She gnawed at them with her teeth and that section of the chain came loose with a few well-placed jerks.
Loose, but not free. Hidden under the white spirals was a thick black core that looked like plastic. Try as she might, it wouldn't open up to let her out.
She hissed and kept trying anyway.
In the meantime, the chain began to pull her closer and closer to the light. Izumi closed her eyes as if in denial, and tugged back in the opposite direction.
It was only then that she remembered to keep talking. "What're you going to do with me?"
Thrumming. Whispers rose up from the illuminated mist like gentle vapors, and it only took a few seconds of straining to hear the reply. And even then, it was more like the chanting of a mob than anything else. Izumi could hear faint snatches of words, but they were utterly contradictory and unhelpful.
Some spoke of fate – that was inevitable. There was also the mention of death, and water, the ability to breath, helplessness…that didn't help, either. Izumi had already been through that. The more interesting snatches of dialogue came from the quietest voices.
Underneath, there was a gentle chorus. "Strings." Over and over again.
"Cut them."
"Strings…"
The minute she opened her eyes, the voices vanished. Izumi quickly looked around, bewildered, and realized that she was holding on to the bright chain so tightly that her hands were going numb.
It was then that she also noticed another chain right next to her. The line went far into the distance, rippling like the tentacles of an anemone. Izumi reached out cautiously to touch it, but it sped past her, ripping out of her grip. She hissed, snatching back her hand. Friction burned a tingling path on her palm, but the cold moisture in the air prevented too much damage. Still, the first layer of skin was starting to peel away.
Hesitantly, she reached her other hand out, and took a deep breath. This time when she grabbed the line, she didn't let go.
There was a painful snap against her ankle when the chain tore. Even with both hands latched firmly onto the moving column of light, it was getting harder to hold on.
And then the oddest thing happened. Little strings began to fly off of her back, growing longer and longer all the time. For lack of a better word, this terrified her. The presence of something that she didn't know seeping out of her own body would have been disconcerting even under normal circumstances, but in a strange lopsided world like this?
She would have been insane not to worry.
The thin lines continued to lengthen. Izumi finally resolved to close her eyes and not look at the steady mass of filaments that were streaming down her back. It seemed that right after making this decision, her mind went on automatic. It could have been hours since then. It could have been mere seconds. The monotony of the scenery as she flew along didn't help her keep track at all. It was gray, gray, gray, everywhere she looked. How was it possible to drop into an ocean this deep, when on the surface she had been able to stand and touch the bottom with her toes?
She still didn't know. And now, Izumi wondered if knowing would even help.
No, wait, of course it would. The more she knew, the better her chances of getting out of here.
Izumi tried to concentrate, but the voices in the water didn't come back again. Even though she hadn't learned much from them, it was still disappointing that they were gone. In the end, she just held on to the moving stream.
Hesitantly, she tried to pull herself forward. By reaching with her left arm, the weight displacement was enough to make the entire chain shake weakly in the water.
Wait.
It was shaking. Eyes wide open, Izumi turned to stare at the thick rope in her hands. For something that was moving so fast, it was certainly easy to move it around – too easy. Cautiously, Izumi kicked her legs and the chain casually swung over to the other direction. She watched it go, breathing shakily.
The chain wasn't moving.
Everything else was.
Instantly, Izumi began to pull herself up with her hands, inch by inch. That seemed to be the only way to actually go anywhere, if the water really was flowing down. Painstakingly, she climbed against the current, wincing every time her weight was on the injured hand. Her arms were exhausted. It wasn't like she was an athlete, after all.
It got to the point where she just couldn't move anymore. Something pulled her back, and Izumi halfheartedly glanced down, just to see.
The strings on her back were so long that she couldn't see the ends. A hint of alarm brushed her, before she pushed it away and resolved to keep going. Only a few weary pulls later, they snagged. Izumi's entire body was jerked back. The hair thin strands had connected somewhere, and now they were stretched tight.
Carefully, she tried to reach just a little more.
A single thread ripped out with a soft snap, and sent a flare of agony down her back.
Izumi closed her eyes and cursed, trembling. So was this 'cutting the strings'? If so, it hurt. A lot. It was like a needle had stabbed that area over and over again. She really didn't want to do it anymore, but she really wanted to get out of here. Swallowing her nerves, Izumi swung up with one hand and pulled hard.
Entire sections ripped out, turning her body into a minefield of sensation. She groaned and clung to the thick white chain in her hands, hoping for a reprieve that wasn't coming. In the end, if she was going to have to put up with this much, why not a little more?
Snap, snap, snap.
It seemed to go on for hours.
And then it was over.
…
"What the hell did you do?" Someone was shaking her. With her eyes still closed, she reached out a hand and felt warm skin. That was enough to completely break her out of dreamland, and slowly, surely, her eyelashes lifted up.
It was so bright.
Swallowing hard, Izumi tried to lift her hand from where it was resting, only to have it wrenched away and gripped tightly.
"What the hell did you do?" That voice…
Her eyes went wide. "Kouji!" Then, more slowly, she realized, "You…we…talking?"
He snorted. "Observation skills, princess." His face wasn't as pale as she remembered, and when she looked at their hands, Izumi was stunned to see that his skin was much tanner than hers. She wondered if the lighting in that other place had changed things – but no, it was fine. At least they were out. Or were they?
"Kouji," Izumi murmured, hesitantly. "Why are we here?"
He snorted. "That's what I want to ask you."
She stared at him. "I did this?"
"You did something." He waved his hand around.
For the first time, Izumi realized that there was absolutely no water, anywhere. The plaster wall was still where it used to be, but under her feet was a very normal looking wood floor. It was dusty, but otherwise identical to her own at home.
Kouji took hold of her jaw and turned her attention to the front door, which was closed and locked. It was as though nothing had changed at all.
"Kouji," she breathed. "Is this…was this your home?"
"I lived here, yes," he murmured. Standing up, he pulled Izumi along with him.
She wobbled and fell over again. "Mmm. Tired…"
He sighed. "Tell me later. If I remember right, there should be a bed somewhere here."
Izumi was already asleep.
When she woke up again, groggily, Izumi almost forgot that she was already out of the water. The soft sheets around her and the warm body pressed against her back were very good reminders, however. Much more alert than before, she started to pull away…and blushed.
Kouji had taken off his bandages. They were in a messy pile right by his head, but the blankets didn't quite cover everything, probably because they were halfway off of the bed.
Izumi had to laugh, somewhat shakily. He had probably been just as tired as her last night. Or was it earlier today? Her sense of time had been completely warped, not that it had been normal to begin with. She looked out the window – almost forgetting that she could do that now – and saw the sun hanging high in the sky.
If it was noon now…they probably fell asleep last night, not this morning. Ah, well, it wasn't very important.
She lifted the blanket up and blinked. It smelled musty, like it hadn't been aired properly for a while. However, before she could start thinking of ways to give it a good cleaning, her stomach groaned softly.
Izumi stared down. She had almost forgotten what it felt like to be hungry. With a wry grin, the blond girl started to pull her body out of the thick, yellow sheets. Maybe she could go back to her house to get something?
She jumped when Kouji muttered drowsily, "Why are you already up, princess."
Note to self, apparently he was a very light sleeper. "Hungry." Izumi was struck by a sudden sense of longing. With the water, and miming, she had been able to practically taste his emotions. Speaking normally now seemed almost impersonal. She chewed her lip and wondered why she was even thinking of that.
Kouji seemed unaware of her internal dilemma, because he just groaned quietly. "Princess, you realize that we have no idea what's going on right now? It's probably a bad idea to eat anything."
She glared. "You aren't hungry?"
"Too sleepy to eat."
"Well, I'm too hungry to sleep. See you."
Kouji reached out a hand and grabbed her wrist. "Don't eat anything from the refrigerator. There might be something in the pantry…"
She blinked at him. "Hey, Kouji…"
He didn't respond, but there was an air of awareness around him.
"What's the last date that you remember?"
His fingers twitched slightly. "June something. 1999."
"Oh." Her eyes went very wide.
"How long's it been?"
"More than a decade…oh."
"Hm?"
"You're, um. Actually a lot older than me, right?"
"What's that got to do with anything?" His voice was soft and sleepy.
"..."
"Time warps in that place. I don't think it counts."
Izumi blushed brightly and decided not to think about it anymore. "Erm, Kouji?"
"Yeah?"
"How did you get into the water?"
He was silent for a moment, then he turned around and looked at her. "I think…that I was in someone else's house."
"Really?"
"Yeah." He paused. "Hey, lie down or get out. You're letting the cold in."
"There isn't any cold," she muttered, but ended up sliding back under the covers. "So?"
"So nothing. I don't remember much about it. What about you?"
"I…heard that we had new neighbors."
"Where'd you hear it?"
She started to say, "My parents," but stopped halfway. Her jaw went slack. Where did she hear the rumor? She hadn't spoken with her mother and father about anything since her tenth birthday. The thought gave her the chills, and she quietly curled up into the fetal position. Kouji's hand suddenly rested on her hip. Izumi took that as a cue to calm down and relax. She swallowed hard and whispered, "Is it bad if I don't know?"
"Not really. We've probably forgotten a lot."
"No, I mean…if there's no way that I heard about it from anyone?"
That got his attention. "What do you mean?"
"I…don't talk to anyone. At all. So how could I have possibly heard a rumor anywhere?"
He stared at her, dark eyes piercing. They fell into a comfortable position, Izumi with her face pressed against his shoulder and legs tucked in. One of Kouji's arms was under her body, the other was curled against her waist. Izumi couldn't remember the last time she had been this relaxed. The close proximity to another warm body made her feel like a cat.
"You really don't talk to anyone at all?" Kouji sounded amused.
Izumi flushed a little. "No."
"I think," he murmured, right into her ear, "that I've finally found someone more anti-social than I am."
She flushed even more, but finally the growling of her stomach got to be too much. She prodded him gently to let her go. "I'm going to go look for something to eat, okay?"
He nodded distantly.
Izumi pulled her hands away and got out of the bed. The mattress creaked under her weight, and she first wandered through the halls absently before she found the door to the living room at the very end. The kitchen was yet another door off that.
And it was completely empty. Not that she was surprised, but it was still a disappointment. The old wood cabinets had a few delicate pots and pans, but none of them had a single food item. In one of the corners, she found what ought to be the pantry. The only thing distinguishing it from a normal cabinet was its size, because there was nothing to eat in there either. Eventually, she saw something in one of the upper shelves.
Jumping up to get it, she managed to catch a hold of the top shelf, but then her grip slipped and she crashed back down on the ground. "Ouch!"
Knocking sounds echoed down the hall and long arms pulled her up. Izumi winced as the bruises on her back suddenly moved around, but for the most part, she was very cooperative. Kouji's breaths came in quick gasps from running, but he didn't seem to notice. Most of his attention was focused on holding her up.
She pushed him away. "I'm okay, just – ow – a little bruised?"
He eyed her somewhat grimly and tucked back her hair. "I just saw you."
That made her stare at him blankly. "Eh?"
"I saw you. Outside."
"Another…me?"
"Yeah. When did you come by the back door?"
"The back? That was…" Her eyes went wide. "That was the first day."
"How long ago?"
"Um," she thought about it, "Four months, I think."
He stared at her. "Why did you wait so long…no, wait. Anti-social. Now I remember."
Izumi pouted. "Hey, I have no problems with it now."
"Of course," he said. His hand was locked in her hair. "So now we've solved the problem of where we are. Or rather, when."
She swallowed. "Why did it send us to the past?"
"Probably so that we wouldn't contradict ourselves."
"What?"
"I should be the one saying that. What did you do that day?"
She swallowed and told him everything, as much as she could remember. Even the parts that seemed nonsensical in hindsight. Her voice cracked and shook by the end of it, and Kouji left to go find water.
He came back with a glass of clear, sparkling liquid. When she looked at him questioningly, he said, "It was in a package. Out front."
Izumi stared at him and laughed. "Oh. I see. So that's what they were for…"
Kouji shrugged, and she suddenly realized that he was actually wearing a shirt. Talk about a delayed reaction…Izumi grinned at him. He tilted his head in confusion. "What?"
"Shirt."
He gave her a flickering smile. "Yes. I did. Anything else you want to notice way after you should have noticed it?"
Izumi sniffed dismissively.
Kouji cleared his throat after a companionable silence. "So, back to what we were talking about earlier.…"
"Right," she said, "About the contradiction?"
"Yeah. When we entered that place, we automatically forfeited our future. We were supposed to spend forever there, see?"
"Uh-huh?"
"So obviously, that didn't happen. But since our future was already set in stone, there was no way to change it."
"In other words, to get out of that place, we had to go to the past instead?"
"Apparently."
"So how did that happen?"
"I have a theory," he admitted. "The chain that you were climbing – I think that may have been the flow of time. The strings on your back should have attached you to the 'present,' but when you broke them, maybe that was enough to transport you into a different time?"
"I don't see why those were solid…Shouldn't time be more…I don't know, abstract?"
He shrugged. "If you think about it, that place had a ridiculously complex structure, so what we got to see could be a simplified version of what it actually is."
"Makes sense, I guess. But then why're you here?"
Kouji actually looked somewhat uncomfortable when he said, "Don't kill me for this."
"What?" she stared at him, then demanded, "What did you do?"
"Remember the spirals that I gave you?"
"To drink?"
"Yeah."
"Yes, I remember them." She glared. "Still haven't forgiven you yet."
He swallowed. "Would you be more or less angry if I told you those were my memories?"
Izumi's jaw dropped. "What?"
"That's how miming is possible. When you establish a connection – helped along by a donation of thoughts…"
"So," she said, monotonously, "You gave me enough to make a connection that dragged you with me?"
"Apparently."
"I don't like you right now."
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
It was an honest apology. Izumi closed her eyes and sighed. "Which ones are your memories?"
"You can't feel them. I made sure to give you duplicates."
"Duplicates?"
"Memories that included you. So that you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between mine and yours."
"I see," she whispered. They stayed like that, in silence.
Kouji broke it. "I'm sorry."
"I'm probably going to forgive you," she said, flatly, "Because it ended up helping me out. Just…be patient, okay? I'm just sort of mad at the world right now."
Kouji pulled her against him and let her head drop onto his chest. His thumb rubbed circles on her shoulder blades. "That's fine. But you should know…"
"Know what?"
"The packages also had books. Old books."
Izumi stared forward and began to laugh. "Oh. I see. So we're going to recreate that place, aren't we? Book wall and all?"
"Do you mind?"
She swallowed hard. "No. Do you?"
"Not at all. The water's not evil, you know."
"Even if it is petty?"
She felt his lips curl against her hair. "Sensitive might be a better word."
"Ha. True."
"And we have…what did you say, four months to do it?"
"That's what I figure. What do you think is going to happen to us at the end of that?"
Kouji shrugged. The vibration of his voice pressed against her cheek. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. It should be fine, as long as you figure out how to do the impossible. Again."
"Does that bother you? Being stuck with me?"
He stared at her. "Really, princess? Really?"
"Oh. That was a bad question, right?"
"Just this once, I'll forgive you for it."
"Thanks, I think?" She paused. "By the way, where are we going to get the water?"
"It'll come," he shrugged. "We just have to give some memories away."
Izumi toyed with her long hair and grinned. "I have an idea. But we're going to need black paint. And scissors."
He looked at her and frowned. "You're going to cut your hair?"
"Yeah. For our first memory."
"It's important to you?"
"Yes. Childhood thing. Don't ask."
"But I like your hair."
Izumi stared at him and burst out laughing. She choked and gasped, breathily, against his neck. "You're just going to have to get used to it."
"Fine. I was just thinking that the front door could use a new coat of paint anyways."
End