Warnings: None

Speak

Chapter 07:

"Commiseration"

The minute I walked up to her at the train station, Yuuki knew. She put her hands on her hips, tossed her multicolored Lolita pigtails, and scowled.

"Miyamoto Momoko," she declared. "You have news for me, don't you?"

Long as I'd known her, I'd never been able to hide a thing from Yuuki. Not that I was trying to hide anything from her this morning. I knew better than that. She never gave me the chance to hide stuff; I had to be honest with her by default.

Knowing denying it was futile, I took out my cell phone, pulled up Kurama's email, and handed her the device. Her brown eyes scanned the screen and widened.

"Are you telling me you still haven't replied to him?" she said. Her jaw dropped. "Momo! Look at that time stamp! You can't just leave the poor guy hanging for three days! Of course he sent you a follow-up email! He's probably worried sick! And you're supposed to meet up this weekend, too!"

I shrugged, trying my best to look helpless…because that's how I felt inside. Kurama, Shuichi, whoever he was confused me to no end. He'd sent his short follow-up email three days after the dinner—three days after his last email, before our fledgling relationship blew up in our faces. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what to send in reply.

What the heck was I supposed to say to him? And in writing, no less?

You'd think, given how much I relied on writing to convey my thoughts, that I'd be good at expressing myself. It's just that every time I sat down to write him a reply, I froze. Putting my thoughts on paper…it felt too real. Too raw. The feelings stared me boldly in the face, painful like a raw nerve.

We were supposed to go on a date this Sunday.

And now we were cousins.

Weird, secret-keeping cousins thrown together by fit of fate and what felt like really cruel irony.

How was I supposed to feel about something like this?

The train arrived after a moment. Yuuki and I shuffled into a car and managed to snag a pair of seats near the end, where I could sign to her in relative privacy. It was considered impolite to hold conversations on trains, but Sign didn't bother most passengers. I conveyed my thoughts to Yuuki one by one, hands hidden behind the seat in front of us. She only replied once she confirmed I'd fully expressed myself.

"You need to talk to him in person," she signed when I was through. "Have a conversation. Email is a series of monologues. Not good."

She made a good point, but that plan had one major flaw: Kurama couldn't sign, or understand me when I signed. My most articulate method of communication probably looked like mere flailing to him.

"Oh. That's no big deal," Yuuki told me.

I frowned, brow knitting in silent question.

Yuuki preened. She jabbed a thumb at her chest, then signed the word for "interpreter" with a very self-satisfied look on her face. Oh, she wanted to come with me and interpret for me and Kurama?

"No," I signed back, vehemently, because no way, nope, not happening. "No. I need to have a private conversation with him. Private. As in, alone."

"I won't tell anyone what you say," she signed. Her lower lip jutted in a distinct pout. "You know how good I am at keeping secrets!"

True. She was the best at it, aside from me (having to always think before you speak is a great deterrent to accidentally blurting out secrets). Still, the idea of having someone there when I tried to have a very important, intimate conversation—

Yuuki waved a hand to get my attention. Then, expression innocent, she signed: "If I came along, you wouldn't have to face this alone."

Oh, now that was tempting. But it wouldn't be right. If I was going to ask Kurama about his names, and his secrets, I really should talk to him alone. But not being alone while doing it would really take the pressure off of me, and—

Yuuki touched my hand. I looked up, startled, and found her smiling, small and warm and just for me. In spite of my worries, tension unspooled between my shoulders. The sight of her smile quieted the trouble waters inside me, hushed the worries and soothed the woes.

Good old Yuuki. Even if we hadn't figured everything out, I already felt better.

"You don't have to decide now," she said. Her fingers curled around mine. "Just know I'd come with you if you wanted. OK?"

I hesitated.

Then, slowly, I told her I'd think about it.

Our morning classes passed quickly. I was too distracted to think clearly, anyway, so that's a good thing. When the lunch bell rang, I eagerly followed after Yuuki as she forged a path through the crowded hallway to Sugi and Akko's classroom. Usually we ate in there with them, but today we found them standing by their classroom's door. Both looked somber. When they saw us, Sugi raised a hand in greeting. Akko looped her arm through mine and hissed "be cool" under her breath.

"What's up?" Yuuki asked. She looked between Sugi and Akko with wide-eyed worry. "Are you both OK? You seem tense!"

Yuuki was right. They were tense…but it wasn't just them. A whole crowd of people had gathered outside the classroom, peering in the door and the room's windows to see what lay beyond. The buzz of hushed voices permeated the air. They sounded reverent, somehow, like people gathered at the back of a temple during a funeral. I wasn't sure why they were acting like that until I made use of my height to see over the heads of the other students and into the classroom.

The bottom promptly fell out of my stomach. I turned to Akko and Sugi.

"Mahiko-san is back?" I signed.

Yuuki gasped. Akko and Sugi nodded.

Mahiko sat near the back of the room, hands folded on her lap, head bowed. Her hair covered her face; I couldn't see her expression. Several girls sat nearby, chatting animatedly, but their chatter did nothing to brighten the pall filling the room. The tension and sadness were so thick, you could drink them through a straw. Though I hadn't gotten the best look, I knew that if I checked more closely, I'd see a red ribbon pinned to all of Mahiko's friends' collars, and bands of black cloth around their upper arms.

"I can't believe she's back already," Akko muttered against my shoulder.

I'd heard rumors about Mahiko, but nothing concrete. It was a bit hard to sign with Akko hanging on my elbow, but I managed to convey enough to ask, "What happened to her, exactly?"

Sugi shook her head. "Not here."

The four of us left the whispering crowd behind. We managed to score a private study room in the library, thankfully, where we could eat and talk in peace. As I opened my bento box, Sugi filled us in.

"She was visiting family in Sakana during the attack," she said around a mouthful of rice. Her polished nails held her chopsticks in a deathgrip. "Was at the festival when the first bomb went off. Ran, but shrapnel got her on the leg. There're scars, big, real nasty-looking." She glanced at the door, scowling, like she could see her classroom again. "Hasn't said a word since she came back to school, but I don't blame her. People won't leave her alone. And I hear a cousin of hers died. You'd think people would be more respectful, but no. You saw the crowd outside the door."

Yuuki covered her mouth with her hand. She hadn't so much as unwrapped her lunch yet. Tears threatened the corners of her eyes. I touched her shoulder and squeezed; she grabbed my fingers, thankful smile wobbly with emotion.

"People should just buzz off. Leave the poor girl alone," Akko said. She jabbed at the air with her utensils. "She's not a sideshow act, she's a person. Let her grieve in peace, goddammit!"

As the girls discussed how oblivious and rude our fellow students were being, prying into Mahiko's life like that, my thoughts wandered to the ordeal she must have suffered. Some sort of religious terrorist group had attacked that festival in Sakana with bombs and other weapons over the holidays, for reasons authorities still couldn't quite define. It had been a senseless act of needless violence perpetuated for pointless reasons authorities still didn't understand. I couldn't wrap my head around it, and neither could the rest of the country. There hadn't been a terrorist incident on Japanese soil with a death toll so high since…well, ever. It was awful. I hated even thinking about it. And I hated the thought of a classmate of mine being there when it happened. That poor, poor girl…

Eventually the bell rang, and we went back to our classrooms. I spent most of the lessons thinking about Mahiko, my worries regarding Kurama pushed momentarily to the wayside. Mahiko and I weren't friends by any means, but I still wondered if I should do anything for her. Was sending a card too much, when it came from a stranger? It probably wasn't my place to comfort her. That was a job for her close friends, not a practical stranger…but doing nothing felt wrong, too. Perhaps I should wear one of those red memorial ribbons…

When class ended, Yuuki and I met by the door. Neither of us had clubs that afternoon, so it came as no surprise when she chirped, "Karaoke tonight? I texted Sugi and Akko. They're game!"

"Sure," I signed. A distraction from my problems was just what the doctor ordered.

"Let's go get them!" she said. As we maneuvered our way through the press of students and into the hallway, Yuuki spared me a sneaky, sidelong glance. Her voice was artificially casual when she said, "Speaking of karaoke. Any more thoughts on you-know-who?"

I appreciated that she didn't use either of Kurama's names verbally, especially considering the reaction "Shuichi" had gotten the other day. I sighed dramatically as we turned the corner into the next hallway, the one containing Sugi and Akko's classroom.

"Well?" Yuuki pressed. "What are you thinking?"

"Still not sure what to say," I signed. "It's like—"

"Fucking stop it!"

Yuuki and I froze when a voice cracked the air, furious thunder on a clear day. It took a moment to tear our stunned gazes apart, but when we did and looked down the hall, we saw a knot of people standing right outside Sugi's classroom. They were whispering to each other, and then a few of them shrieked. A flurry of movement just inside the doorframe preceded the throng scattering in all directions—and the next thing I knew, Mahiko-san had stumbled into the hallway. She fell hard against the wall opposite the door, shoulder slamming onto plaster with a thud.

I saw the scars on her leg, then: two angry red ribbons of raw flesh winding up from her ankle around the back of her calf. They reached nearly to her knee. There was an indentation between the lines where she'd lost a stripe of calf muscle. No wonder she'd stumbled. A wound like that, you'd have trouble walking.

"All of you, just stop it!" she bellowed at her classroom doorway. White showed bright around her irises; her checks flushed deep red with fury matched only by the fire in her eyes. "People died. How can you act like nothing's wrong, like nothing's changed?" She let out a growl more animal than human. "You vapid, stupid morons make me sick!"

"Mahiko—" someone said, from inside the classroom.

She shook her head. "No. No. Fuck you, and stay away from me!"

With that, she turned and ran.

Not long after, Yuuki gasped, and sprinted after Mahiko down the hallway.

Yuuki's a weird one. I love her to pieces, but that doesn't mean she's not weird. She cries over the smallest things and feels emotions deeply—very deeply. I sometimes wonder if it's healthy, because it's not just her own emotions she's in tune with. If you tell her you're sad, she'll sob, even if you're not crying. I've seen her give her entire allowance to homeless people and not think twice about it. I know that makes her really kind, which is amazing, but I worry someday she'll give too much of herself and be hurt for it.

This…well, this was one of those times. It didn't take much brainpower to figure out she was running after Mahiko-san because she was worried about Mahiko-san.

But what exactly did Yuuki think she could do for Mahiko, who seemed so angry and ready to explode?

I didn't have time to worry all the details, though. My legs didn't let me. I saw Yuuki start to run, and I started running, too, totally on reflex. I caught up after only a few paces. Yuuki wasn't very fast. Her legs were short and I was a trained sprinter. It didn't take much effort to get ahead of her, then turn my torso and sign to her midstride.

"What the hell?" I asked.

Yuuki, frail and delicate and small, was already panting by the time we reached the end of the hallway. Her face was redder than Mahiko's and her pigtails had tangled around the rose studding the front of her leather choker.

"Stairs!" she gasped through a webbing of errant hair. "Mahiko—headed for the stairs!"

It didn't take much brainpower to figure that out, either. This hallway had a dead end, if you didn't count the stairwell. We turned the corner to the end of the hall just in time to see the stairwell door slam shut.

"The roof!" Yuuki panted.

I followed when Yuuki kept running, although inside I was confused. Mahiko could have gone down or up the stairs—what made Yuuki think she was headed to the roof? Sure enough, though, when we opened the door, we heard feet pounding on the steps above. Wow, Mahiko was fast in spite of her horrible injury.

Thinking Yuuki would want to go up after Mahiko, I started forward. Yuuki held out her hand and blocked my way. I looked down at her with a frown, but she shook her head. She puffed and panted and stood in the doorway until, way above our heads, we heard a distant sob and the sound of a slamming door. Only then did Yuuki lower her arm.

"Give her a minute," she rasped. She bent over, hands on her knees. "Oof, I'm out of shape!"

I waved a hand in her face to get her attention. "Stand," I signed. "Breathe better standing."

"Oh." She straightened and took a deep, steadying breath. Her eyes lit up. "Oh, hey, you're right!"

Yuuki had us wait for about two minutes before heading up the stairs. We climbed them slowly, Yuuki taking them one at a time, until we reached the roof access door. There were a few boxes up here, and a broom. Yuuki picked up the broom and turned to me.

"Wait here, OK?" she said. Her eyes were earnest, bright from exertion. "Let me talk to her alone. Don't want to crowd her."

My brow knit in silent question. Was Yuuki sure about this?

She nodded in affirmation. "I…I think I know what she needs," she said. She gripped the broom tight, black-nailed hands trembling. "I know that sounds weird, but—I just do."

Part of me didn't want to let her go, but this was her choice. I smiled, supportive, and opened the heavy door. Through it I caught glimpse of the wide, flat roof, dotted by a few A/C boxes and some pipes. Mahiko stood near the safety fence by the roof's edge. She had her back to us. I couldn't tell if she heard the door open or not.

"OK," said Yuuki. "Wish me luck."

I signed the word for luck and grinned. Yuuki grinned back, if not a little shakily. She stepped through the door, then propped it open with the broom handle. Through the sliver of space between door and frame I watched as Yuuki crossed the roof toward Mahiko. She stepped gingerly, like she feared Mahiko might bolt if she heard her coming.

Eventually Yuuki spoke. "Hey, Mahiko-chan—" she said.

Mahiko spun, fence rattling when she pressed her back to it. Her cheeks gleamed with fallen tears.

"Who're you?" she demanded. She wiped her face with her forearm, sniffing. "What do you want?"

Yuuki took a hesitant step toward her, but kept a good distance. "I'm Yuuki," she said. "Same year as you, from class A. I'm friends with Sugi and Akko." She hesitated, then said: "I'm sorry, I was in the hallway when—"

Mahiko's wary expression turned murderous. "If you were in that hallway, you should've heard me ask to be left alone," she spat.

Yuuki shook her head. "I can't do that."

"Really," said Mahiko. Her laughter sounded like gunfire. "Really! And why's that?"

My friend's voice came soft and full of sorrow. I closed my eyes. I knew what Yuuki was about to say.

"Because I know what it feels like to lose someone you love," Yuuki said.

Mahiko stared for a second, and then her anger cracked. She looked halfway between confused and stunned. Yuuki took advantage of that, stepping a few paces toward the girl.

"You lost your cousin, right?" she asked. "In Sakana? What was their name?"

Mahiko swallowed. She looked away. For a second I thought she might lash out again, but then her shoulders sagged.

"Takashi," she said. "He was my uncle's son. We grew up together."

"What was he like?" Yuuki asked.

Mahiko blew out a shaking breath. "He was amazing," she said. I'd never seen a smile quite so broken. "Always listened. Never got mad when I followed him around when we were kids." She chuckled, looking skyward as tears threatened her eyes. "He used to make me this thing out of seaweed and miso paste and rice. He thought it was gross, but he'd make it for me anyway whenever I wasn't feeling OK. He was selfless like that."

"He sounds nice," Yuuki said. "A really good cousin."

"He was the best," Mahiko said. "He was the best. He was—"

This time the tears really did fall. She covered her face with her hands, letting out a quiet sob. She slid down the fence, skirt tangling in the chain link, and pulled her knees to her chest as she cried.

Yuuki couldn't not hug Mahiko. She went to her and sat down, too, arm around the other girl's shoulders. She didn't say anything. She just let Mahiko cry. And when Mahiko finally quieted, Yuuki spoke.

"My older sister was named Arata," she said. She kept her eyes closed, probably to keep from crying—she always cried when she had to talk about her sister. "She died in an accident when I was little. I don't remember much from back then, but I remember people kept trying to act like nothing was wrong. Like my whole family hadn't been torn apart."

Mahiko lifted her head from her knees. Her eyes were wide, fixed on Yuuki.

"It felt so wrong," Yuuki said. "Like they didn't want to acknowledge I'd ever had a sister at all. Like they wanted to forget her." Her smile was tight, but warm. "It took me a long time to realize they weren't trying to forget her. They just didn't know how to talk about her without causing me pain."

Mahiko sniffled. She wiped her nose with her sleeve.

"That's what my friends keep doing," Mahiko said. "Acting like nothing happened."

"That's what I figured, from what I heard earlier," Yuuki said. "But your friends don't mean to belittle what happened to you. They just don't know how to relate. They don't get it."

"You're right. They don't get it," Mahiko said, vehemently. "They don't get it, and that means they should just—"

It sounded like Mahiko was about to go on a tirade…but then she paused. Her dark eyes searched Yuuki's face before moving to the ground. She stared at it for one long moment, and then another. When she spoke again, her tone had softened, anger making way for sadness and confusion and grief.

"But that doesn't…make them bad people," she said. "It just makes them human."

Yuuki beamed, arm tightening around Mahiko's shoulders—and then Mahiko was crying again. She pressed her face into Yuuki's shoulder, grabbing onto my friend like she was a life raft on a dark sea.

I turned away from the gap, then. This moment felt too private to watch. I only turned back when I heard the chain link rattle. When I looked, I saw Yuuki and Mahiko had stood up. Yuuki clasped her hands behind her back, rocking forward onto her tiptoes so she could peer at Mahiko in the eye. Mahiko wasn't smiling, but her tears had stopped.

"Feeling better?" Yuuki chirped.

Mahiko snorted, a laugh more derisive than humorous.

"No," she said. "No, I'm not OK—but I will be, soon." At that, she actually smiled. "Takashi would kick my ass if he saw me crying over him."

Mahiko's eyes held calm they hadn't held before. She looked…serene. Like the furious fire inside her had quelled. I could still see tension in her, and pain, but the raging inferno was just an ember. The lashing sea lapped quiet at her mind's shores.

I recognized that look. It was the same look I saw in my own eyes after I talked with Yuuki about my problems—that look of comfort you could only gain by talking to a true friend.

Yuuki had always been good at stuff like this: emotions, words, helping people. And she never had to say much to get people to calm down. Maybe she chose the exact right words, and therefore didn't have to use many of them. Or maybe she just oozed empathy, and that feeling was infectious.

Either way, Yuuki is somehow even better at speaking without words than I am.

Maybe, in that case…Kurama wouldn't mind Yuuki interpreting our conversation, if it meant us coming away as calm as Mahiko looked right now.

NOTES:

More happened in this chapter than perhaps meets the eye. Details, details, details.

Today's my birthday, btw! The 13th. It's fun to get to post on my birthday!

Cultural bit: it's impolite to answer phone calls and have loud conversations on commuter trains in Japan. Good thing Momo knows how to sign…

We're going to see some Deaf culture in this story (yes, I know Momo isn't Deaf or deaf, but you'll see what I mean soon). A portion of my family is Deaf/deaf; much of this story is informed by my experiences with them. Unfortunately, I'm having trouble finding info about Deaf culture in Japan, so the info here will mostly reflect American Deaf culture.

Everything about the red ribbons and Sakana attack were references to the attack on the festival depicted in "Future Talk." Long story short for those who haven't read "Future Talk," demons attacked a winter festival and killed a lot of people in a village (Sakana) near Genkai's temple). Koenma covered it up, but couldn't hide the civilian deaths. Kurama (and the rest of the guys) were involved. That's basically all you need to know. These attacks were also mentioned in previous chapters of this story.

Many thanks to those who reviewed the previous (reposted) chapter: crossyourteez, Sanguinary Tida, Aria2302, j.d.y., Lariee, ovenfreshh, Ochiphius, Gwen Flaming Katana, AkaMizu-chan, Moxxie Russo, Bloody Sand Girl!