Author's Notes
Explanation for this one at the end.
Enjoy.
The Price One Must Pay
Frontier-verse. They find that everything comes at a price. With interest attached.
Genre/s: Angst/Friendship
Rating: T
Part 3 of 6: Tomoki
He had always been rather sensitive. He cried easily; he'd admit it. He also scared easily. Hence why he was such a good target for bullies at the time. He was too soft. Like melting snow. It made him weak to face the world, or so others told him, whether for good or ill.
He had trouble finding a medium in the world; the snow was simply too slippery to be able to solidly hold somewhere. Some were rather mean to him, others rather kind when he had not asked for it (although Yutaka for one disagreed with that sentiment). Before the digital world, he was a little kid, getting picked on and being too scared to fight back on one end of the string, and being essentially spoilt on the other.
When he came to the Digital World, things began to change. He met people who did neither, but rather treated him like they would any other person slightly younger. Sure, they made some allowances for him, being younger then them…well, except Kouji and to an extent Junpei at the earlier stages of their journey. During the course of that journey, beginning when he found he simply couldn't run away any longer in fear and first attained the human spirit of ice, he began to grow stronger, tougher, harder. He stood up to a boy he regarded as his brother when the beast spirit raged out of control to stop him from hurting himself and other people. He stood by his morals and helped his enemies even after they double-crossed him twice over. He understood finally the lesson his brother had been trying to teach, and was strong enough to face his own shortcoming and transcend them, fighting against the fiery treachery that sought to destroy both him and his relationships with his brother. He was strong enough to stand up to his bullies, then turn around and save them when they froze in terror, showing a bravery that had not expected nor to their knowledge possessed themselves. Sensitive still to things, but strong now to face, use, and transcend them.
That remained when he came back from the Digital World. No longer a bully magnet. "Protector of the small" some of the younger kids dubbed him at some stage. For the first time in the human world he was standing tall on his own two feet.
That was all fine and dandy, but there were other levels of sensitivity as well. His skin was also soft, physically. His gums bled when he brushed them too hard. His stomach turned queasy when the ride was too rough.
At first, he was thrilled to find his carsickness vanishing over the course of a few short months. Even happier was he when the toothpaste no longer burnt his teeth…until one day he accidently brushed too hard and noted blood he had failed to feel.
He got into less scuffles, or any sort of thing that caused him to get hurt, so it took him a long time to notice it wasn't stinging as much as it used to. Paper cuts went completely unnoticed, and it was only until the blood mixing with foam and water was washed down the sink that he first realised something might be wrong.
He assumed then that his skin had simply adapted a little better. After all, he didn't know anyone else who was quite so sensitive.
Until the knife slipped from his hands when he had been cutting onions in preparation for dinner and left a blooming cut on the face of his hand, deep enough to require a temporary tourniquet to halt the bleeding. And then stitches at the clinic.
What bothered him the most was that he hadn't felt a thing. He wouldn't have even noticed if the blood hadn't doused the onions red.
He remembered then, all the little bruises and cuts that came from playing soccer, from everyday things, that he never remembered from where they had come, nor realised their existence till he coincidently examined himself or saw himself in the mirror…or someone pointed that out to him.
He took more note after that, almost obsessively checking himself over during the course of the day. Not that it made a difference; cuts, bruises and scrapes wormed their way onto his body during the normal mode of events, but they went unfelt. Almost as if his body had forgotten pain.
It affected his personality too, though he had only noticed when someone else commented on it. His parents, he realised, let him get away with anything, wanting him to grow into his own man. His brother was the antithesis, wanting to make sure the man was one who could stand by himself in a good position in the world. So of course he noted. But he wasn't quite sure for the longest time how to respond. Because being hard and cold was generally a good defence mechanism, but it denied the inner softness that everyone, some more than others, possessed.
There was a funeral soon after. A good friend of his fathers. He was crying. So was his wife. Yutaka looked solemn in his black suit. Tomoki simply looked blank, when there was a time he would have, at the least, looked sympathetic.
That was what worried him. His kid brother had changed almost beyond recognition. The things that made him him had warped into something and someone else.
So he stopped him one day. Asked him. Confronted him.
He knew he was gripping too hard; perhaps it was some sort of an innate fear. But his brother hadn't even felt the hold, walking out of it as if the grip had been a jelly-like lax. He had called him; the other had heard. But it was almost as if the question, or rather, the ideals it questioned, were foreign to him. He looked at him a moment, before continuing upstairs. It bothered him; he could tell. But the snow had hardened beyond solidity. It was almost as if he could no longer feel.
Post Author's Notes
Ice is one of the elements of Mercury, which is the smallest planet in the solar system and represents some of the more subtle aspects of ice and water in the Sailor Moon series. It is also related to the story Mercury's Net from Roman mythology, where he tried to catch Venus and Mars in the act of making love, jealous because Venus was his wife. Later, he steals the net and uses it to catch Cloris by the wingtip, who was tasked with flying after the sun while it rose and scattering lilies, roses and violets behind it. He later returns the net to guard a sacred spot. So that's where the idea came from.