6. Coping
Appetite sated, thirst quenched and eyes drooping, Kimiko allows her head to lower onto her chest. Sounds of washing up emanate from the kitchen. She leans against the doorframe, a wall between her and the dirty dishes she's been forbidden to touch. Alternate world or not, this Clay is still the height of hospitality.
The temple kitchen is just as she remembers it – large, welcoming, full of the delicious smells of past meals and looking as though it's evolved through use rather than careful planning, unlike her mother's kitchen.
She squashes the pang that always erupts at thoughts of her parents. Instead she savours a stuffed belly and the promise of a bed without rocks under it. She wonders how her personal area looks in this world. Will it still have that Gackt poster she liked so much? Does this world's Kimiko even like Gackt?
"Hey," says a familiar drawl.
She squints her eyes open. Clay has emerged from the kitchen – her Clay, not the softer version of this world. He looks closely at her, and then hitches up the waistband of his pants, which are a little too big.
"You okay?"
"Better than I've been in a long time."
"That's good. 'Cause I was worried, with how you acted before, that you were havin' trouble … copin'." He doesn't bother to specify what with. They both know, and they've developed a rapport based on saying things without saying them. It's one of the things she likes most about Clay. He's full of the worst, most clichéd down-home southern phrases she's ever had the misfortune to hear, but he can also cut to the heart of difficult matters in under a sentence. She can trust him not to lie to make her feel better.
"I was. But I'm better now."
"Not completely."
"No," she's forced to admit. "Not completely. But better." She glances sideways at him. "I'm still not going home."
"You keep sayin' that."
"Because I get the feeling you still don't believe me. I mean it, Clay. If it turns out we can stay here, I want to. What's wrong with grabbing the chance at a better life?"
"The people we left behind?"
Guilt flares in her gut. She looks away. "It's all academic anyway. We don't even know how we got here, let alone how to get back, so let's just cross that bridge when we come to it."
"A cliché? From you? I'm shocked an' dismayed, Kimiko Tohomiko!"
She smiles despite herself. "Idiot."
Clay smiles too. Then all at once it drops away and he takes up one of her hands, face as earnest as she's ever seen it. "Kimiko, tell me straight now. The way you've been since we got here … with this universe's Raimundo an' all … Now, this may sound stupider than a pig tryin' to whistle, but is it … he was already gone from back home when we …" He looks down. "Aw, tarnation! This is hard to say without comin' out soundin' selfish as a mean ol' tomcat!"
Kimiko lays her right hand over where his larger one has captured her left. "Look me in the eye. Go on, do it." Staring straight into his baby-blues, she says slowly and clearly, "Clay Bailey, I am not looking to exchange you for this world's Raimundo. I know the way we got together wasn't the best, and I know you sometimes worry that we're only a couple because Rai was … not around anymore, but I'll say it for the last time – I love you, got it? Not our Rai, not this Rai, not any Rai. You. Now will you stop being such a big galoot and stop doubting yourself?"
A hangdog look crosses his face. "I'm sorry. But can you blame me? You an' he were always so close – all them sparks when you talked an' all. Just look at this world's Kimiko and Raimundo. They sure got enough sparks to set light to dry tinder." There had been quite a few flare-ups between the two of them during the meeting, and it's obvious there's chemistry there, even if it never amounts to anything.
"Except that things are different here. That just happens to be one of them."
"You sure?"
"Didn't you hear me? We've been through so much together; how could you ever doubt what we have? I love you, Clay, and nobody else. Accept it!" She jumps up and plants a kiss on his lips that defies him to argue more.
It lasts slightly longer than anticipated when Clay holds her to him. She starts to understand how being in this alternate world is affecting him just as deeply as it is her. He doesn't cling to her, but she knows that she's his anchor. Without each other they'd be swamped: by the magnitude of the unfair differences between this idyllic dimension and their own, and by what they stand to lose whether they stay here or go home.
A cough breaks them apart. The other Clay is standing in the doorway, blushing madly.
"Whoops," Kimiko hears as her feet touch the floor. She holds her own Clay's hand as they turn to face him.
"Uh," the other Clay mumbles, "I'm-I'm to tell y'all that your beds are p-prepared."
"Thanks," says Kimiko.
He drags his hat down over his eyes. "If anyone asks, I didn't see nuthin'."
"We ain't tryin' to make y'all feel uncomfortable. It's just been a big day for us."
"Oh, I get it. It's just me – I mean, you! Uhm, and Kimiko? That sure jars my preserves, if you'll pardon my sayin' so. Round these parts, me an' Kimiko ain't got even half what you guys got. Can't see much chance of it ever getting' that way, neither."
"Things're different here. That just happens to be one of 'em," Clay says, catching Kimiko's eye. "Though I gotta say, you don't know what you're missin', fellah."
The other Clay's colour deepens even further, until it seems like he'll require a blood transfusion just to keep it going. He's cute as a button, and she almost says so, but for the feeling of her own Clay's fingers through hers. Instead, she agrees to follow him through the temple to the personal areas, where a spare set of pyjamas awaits her.
She can hear Raimundo and Omi breathing. It's a reassuring and much missed sound. Of her double, however, there is no sign, so she undresses quickly and crawls into one of the two bedrolls without thought of brushing her teeth.
Sleep claws insistently at her eyelids. Even the strangeness of being back in the temple isn't enough to dissuade it. She's just surrendering when the curtain is pushed aside and her double comes in.
Kimiko hears the hitched breath that, she assumes, is a reaction to her own presence, but nothing is said and she offers no comment. After a few minutes' bustling, the other Kimiko also lays down. She blows out the candle she brought in, too.
As if this abrupt absence of light is a signal, Kimiko suddenly remembers her protective charm. Fumbling beneath the pyjama top, she unclasps it and bundles it under her pillow, as is her custom. It jingles sweetly.
"What is that?" whispers the other Kimiko. Her eyes gleam in the near-darkness.
"A charm. My moth- Mommy got it for me from the shrine that last time I saw her; to keep me safe."
"Mommy did that?"
"Uh-huh. I was … pretty banged up when they flew me back to Japan. I didn't realise how bad I must've looked until she and Daddy tried to stop me coming back to the temple. The charm was a sort of compromise – they weren't going to stop me, but it made Mommy feel better that I had something from her to keep me safe."
"Seriously? Man…"
Silence.
Sometimes you can gauge the flavour of silences by how long they last. This once tastes like awkwardness.
Kimiko realises she hasn't been very nice to her double since arriving here. It's easier to react to Omi, Raimundo, Dojo, Master Fung, and even another version of Clay, than it is to react to another version of herself. The trouble is she knows her own mind, and she knows how she thinks. Being confronted with someone who might look at and consider her in the same way that she considers the rest of the world is unsettling. It plays havoc with her sense of self, too.
Still, if she plans to make good on her desire to stay in this world, they're going to see each other, and she can't pussyfoot forever.
"Thanks for sharing with me," she says, trying to build bridges.
"You're welcome."
"I know this must be weird for you."
"Meh. You get used to weird, doing this job."
"Yeah, well … thanks anyway."
Crickets chirp. A tumbleweed blows past Kimiko's head.
"So tell me," she goes on, reaching for something to say and clunking against her conversation with Clay, "you and Raimundo. Anything there?"
If the other Kimiko were drinking, a magnificent spit-take would have followed. As it is, she splutters, "Are you kidding? He makes me so mad I'd like to kick his ass from here to Timbuktu! I've had foot fungus with more appeal."
"So are you involved?"
"No." It's the kind of no that says 'why are you asking'?
"Clay – that is, my Clay – reckoned you two have … how'd he put it? Oh yeah, 'enough sparks to set light to dry tinder'."
"Well he's wrong. Rai and I are friends, and half the time we're just tolerating each other. There's nothing remotely romantic about our relationship, and I'm happy about that. So's he."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I'm sure! Rai's more interested in big-busted women in skimpy bikinis who'll giggle and compliment his surfboard. And I am not interested in someone with an ego the size of the Sahara. After I left you earlier, I had to go chew him out for picking on poor Omi. The guy's a Grade A jerk, even if he is a good leader."
"He's really a good leader?"
"Bizarrely, yes. He saved our bacon the last time we had an alternate timeline glitch." The other Kimiko cursorily explains the run-up to the selection of leader, and how Omi's misunderstanding of temporal physics nearly ruined them all. She even explained about Chase Young, and how difficult it had been to reconcile their memories of Chase the Xiaolin Master with Chase Young, evil tyrant.
Someone stirs a few feet away at this point, mumbling sleepily. The conversation between the two Kimikos continues in even softer whispers.
It feels odd – almost like the girl-talks she used to have back at school in Tokyo, only more personal. She can't forget that this is almost herself she's talking to. This is another Kimiko Tohomiko. Could this be counted as schizophrenia? Multiple Personality Disorder?
"Wow. I never would've pegged Raimundo as good leadership material. Of course, my Rai never got to that stage in his training, so maybe he would've been great and we just never knew it."
Another silence ensues. The quality of this one is what follows the moment when the waiter drops a towering pile of trays on the tiled floor.
Damn.
Eventually, the other Kimiko speaks. "Is it … hard to talk about him?"
"A little. Not very. He was a good guy. I miss him a lot – we both do. When I saw your Raimundo -"
"He's not my Raimundo!"
"-The Raimundo of this universe, it was just such a shock that my brain shut down a little. I'm not, actually, as freaky as you might think. Even though you're obviously very uncomfortable with what Clay and I have."
"Weird as it is to say it, you and Clay make a nice couple. At least you're not all goofy around each other. My brain doesn't need half the scrubbing I thought it would when I first realised you're … involved. But Clay – I mean this Clay, my Clay, only not my Clay, you understand, just my Clay as in the Clay of this universe, which is mine … uh … oh, nuts, this is confusing."
"Tell me about it. This morning I thought the high point of my day would be finding some non-poisonous berries to eat. Now I'm acclimatising to a whole different world."
"In bite size, easy-to-swallow chunks, it goes like this: you and your Clay? Cute couple. Clay and me? Not happening. Raimundo and me? Train wreck. Complete no-hoper. Nothing to see here, move along please."
"Got it."
"I'm serious. I'd rather knee him in the nuts than kiss him."
"Who said anything about kissing?"
"Uh … hey, it's late, and you must be tired. All that jumping worlds stuff; inter-dimensional travel's gotta take it out of you, so you should get some sleep. Goodnight."
"Yeah. Goodnight."
Apparently, Kimiko thinks as she snuggles down, it's the same in all universes. She remembers how she used to almost-feel about Rai when he was still alive. It never got far enough along to be anything, but she remembers how she felt when he died and Dashi took his place – the grief and sense of loss that sharpened her mind to a point and made everything that came after seem clearer. Her feelings for Rai were strongest when they were impossible. She's been a lot more honest with herself and what she wants from her life since then – better at recognising things, too, a skill that this other Kimiko hasn't yet grasped. Love does indeed make the world go round.
One of the many things it has in common with severe concussion.