JMJ

(7)

Shedding shadow

Tender pink

Flowers out of winter snow

I probably would have kissed her then, but something held me back. Stopping abruptly my already half-readied lips, my mind meticulously absorbed and categorized all that she had said to me. It swirled in my mind like some wild delirium; it flew from me like car exhaust. I knew that what she said could be called nothing less than stupidity.

"Yamato," I said.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"You don't love me."

"Yes, I do!" she protested, the sudden emotion putting obvious strain on her who already had such a critical condition.

"You don't," I said firmly and calmly, almost coldly I would think, and as I let my hand fall away from hers, I drew back to an upright position on my stool. "You don't remember me because you love me. You remember me because you felt guilty about leaving me behind. Well, you shouldn't. I would have probably done the same thing. I don't know anymore, and you don't miss me, you miss the past. You miss our youth; you miss our optimism and the simplicity of what we thought we knew then. You don't miss me."

Tears brimmed in her eyes, but those only confirmed my resolution in what I said.

"You don't love me, Yamato," I reemphasized as I rose casually to me feet. "You don't love me. You don't even know me, especially not now. And I don't know you. It's a fairytale. I don't believe in fairytales. If you knew me, you'd know that by now."

Her teeth clenched, and she closed her eyes as she sunk into her pillows in defeat. She knew me well enough to know that once I had set my mind, it would not be changed, but I knew her well enough to know she could be just as hardheaded.

Before I closed the door behind me, I could hear her whisper through her weak and near raspy voice with all the melodrama of some stupid movie or a soap opera on TV that I would have laughed at before flipping the channel: "You don't believe that."

I paused a moment but did not look back. After closing my eyes a moment with a thought of whether I should turn back or not, I closed the door quietly behind me.

Her sobs echoed through the door, but I only clicked the roof of my mouth and rolled my eyes. They fell on the nyaasu, and that cat cocked his head at me curiously and with a little concern as he sat on the floor in front of me.

"Nya?"

"Oh, what are you looking at?" I muttered and brushed past him.

I got out leftover rice for breakfast and a glass of grape juice, but I had not gotten far in my meal before I heard a knock at my door. At first I could not think who could possibly come to my door, especially at a time when I and pretty much everyone else in the apartment would be out to work for the day. Then I remembered, and the second after I did I heard the door open and a timid voice say, "Hello? Kosaburo?"

With a heavy sigh, I drank up the rest of my juice and set my rice on the floor for the nyaasu. The greedy thing gobbled it up faster than I would have thought possible, but he had been watching me wide eyed the whole time I was in the kitchen.

Why had I invited Kojiro again?

Yamato would not be in the mood to see him, especially after such a romantic conversation. I supposed I had been hoping she would be relaxed when he came, possibly asleep, or that I would have explained it thoroughly before he arrived.

"You," I grumbled as I saw him in the doorway.

"Well, you called me over here," Kojiro reminded me. "If you changed your mind, I can just leave."

Making an abrupt turn, he made to leave, but just as he stepped out the open doorway, I snatched him by the arm and dragged him inside.

"Ack!" he cried.

Releasing him, I gave him a moment to straighten himself as I shut the door.

"Yes, I called you over here," I said. "I'm just in a bad mood."

"Oh, jaa …" said Kojiro, twiddling his fingers nervously. "Where is she? What happened?"

"You know more medical stuff than I do," I told him.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I was actually starting to look into medicine seriously as a career, and had been taking courses online at public computers in town hall before we moved, but—"

"Good!" I said and motioned him down the corridor to the bedroom. "This way."

"How bad is she?" Kojiro asked, not making any attempt to follow me just yet.

Stopping annoyed as I turned to him I muttered, "I don't know."

"Having you considered calling a real doctor?" he asked me, and he glanced with a wide-eyed curiosity at the nyaasu cleaning himself after his breakfast out of my bowl.

"You know perfectly well why I didn't call a doctor," I retorted, pulling him from the view of the kitchen. "You brought your medical stuff?"

Kojiro held up his leather doctor-like bag.

"But—" he started to say.

"Just come on," I growled.

"What if she won't even let me look at her even if I was a doctor?" said Kojiro, and I crossed my arms with a glower. "I wouldn't want me to look at me if I was her and still thought of me as—"

"Shut up," I told him.

"Okay."

"Just let me at least show her to you, and you can at least give me your opinion," I said, and I rubbed my temples and felt irritation reaching its peak as I opened my eyes again to Kojiro's stupid, wide-eyed stare.

"Are you coming or what?" I demanded.

"I'm coming!" he gulped as he followed me to the bedroom, but he looked pretty annoyed himself as he muttered just loud enough for me to hear, "You probably should just call a doctor."

"Well, you came didn't you?" I said. "What did you tell your wife?"

"Nothing," Kojiro admitted, his face lowered with a gloomy guilt which I completely ignored as we reached the door.

"Did she know I was coming?" he whispered then.

"Sort of," I said and paused. "Just wait out here. I'll be right back."

I took hold of the handle and took care as I opened the door. Stepping inside I lifted my head to Yamato's dangerous leer.

"That's your trustworthy person?" she muttered, for naturally she could had easily heard us through the door. "Kojiro?"

Wearily, she closed her eyes and slumped into her pillow with a loud moan.

"He won't give anything away," I said with a shrug.

"You probably know more about medicine than him," she stated with tact that would have angered me had it not been for the miserable croak in her voice and the heaving painful breath between her speech. "We had to know crap like that for our cover missions at Pokémon Centers and with breeders and those places."

"I know," I grumbled.

I knew she was right. Regardless of any online courses, Kojiro probably knew very little more than I did, but that was truly beside the point.

"I don't want him to touch me," she grumbled back.

"Just let him," I said. "He's not going to do anything, and it's not like he'll hurt you. You wanna get better, don't you?"

"Hmph. I'd be surprised if he doesn't faint at the sight of blood, that idiot."

"Yamato," I said. "Just shut up, and let him have a look."

She leered again but consented in the end. She did not have the strength to fight me.

Opening the door, I found Kojiro looking sour and a little like a wounded pokémon in the corridor as he heard every word or close to it, just the same as Yamato had heard him and me. As much as my unwilling supporters disliked it, I had orchestrated this whole thing, and I did not feel up to disbanding it just yet. There was no stopping me now. I was on a roll, and Kojiro and Yamato were helpless to fight against me long, Kojiro with his pushover attitude, and Yamato in her weakened state.

I yanked him into the room, and Kojiro glared at me once he recovered after a squeak of surprise. Yamato's glower grew all the more as she watched this display.

"Yamato," I said again. "Let Kojiro have a look."

A very weary sigh escaped her, and she full of misery looked up at the ceiling.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," I muttered, and then I returned to Kojiro, his sour expression the same as how I left it. "What equipment did you bring with you?"

Regardless of whether or not I knew as much about healing as Kojiro, he had money, and I did not. He was a gazillionaire. I would have been surprised if there was something did not own. Considering the size of the bag, I could not be disappointed by what he brought. It was not as if he could have brought a whole hospital into the apartment with him. He had a stethoscope, real bandaging material, tweezers and other prying tools, but the main attraction was the small X-ray machine with attached laptop.

The last was the sort of thing I had hoped he would bring. When I had done what I could for her wounds, I knew her injuries to be more than skin deep. I had said nothing to Yamato, of course, but I think she knew too.

Besides that, her strange breathing I'm sure unnerved us all. Before Kojiro approached her with his stethoscope, he had to stop and look at me with one of those pathetic stares and ask once more if I could find it better to call the doctor, and I knew it had little to do with the fact that he feared going near her; though I also knew he did.

"Can you …" Kojiro hesitated as he looked down at Yamato. "Can you sit up?" he asked.

"I'd rather not," moaned Yamato.

Again Kojiro turned to me and glared as fiercely as he could manage, and that fierceness held more in it than I would have thought him able.

"Well, okay fine then, but can you?" asked Kojiro, sympathy taking hold of him now, and he looked down at her with such a deep look of pity that for some reason I had a strong urge to punch him, but I didn't.

I found myself looking upon Yamato with a sort of pity of my own and suddenly felt sick.

"I don't know," Yamato said.

"Are you … having trouble breathing?" asked Kojiro; he glanced at me again but this time in a way that a parent may look at a child who had done something terribly wrong, but such a wrong that it produced more sadness than anger on the side of the parent.

Now I really wanted to punch him.

He turned once more to Yamato. "I mean a lot?" he added.

A long pause followed before Yamato answered, "I thought you were here to look me over, not ask questions."

Kojiro frowned. "You won't let me."

"Yamato," Kosaburo interrupted.

Both turned to me skeptically.

Holding up the X-ray machine, I said, "Will you let us use this?"

"I … guess so," she admitted.

"How good does work?" I asked Kojiro.

"Pretty well," he said. "It was top model maybe seven years ago, I think. Something like that."

"Good enough," I muttered.

#

By the mess we found inside that poor girl, I was surprised she was holding up as well as she was. She said nothing when we told her what we saw, except that she demanded to see the computer screens for herself. Kojiro now more than ever demanded that a doctor be found, but neither Yamato nor myself heeded to his cries and protests. Eventually, I ended in sending him away; though immediately after he had gone from sight I knew that he would probably go call a doctor himself despite my threats.

So much for his being a pushover, I suppose. I knew he was not as much of a sap as he used to be.

I pounded the wall and nearly kicked the cat before I slammed the door open to the bedroom.

"Do you want a doctor?!" I demanded.

Yamato did not answer, but she looked worse than ever. Maybe I am wrong, but the visit with Kojiro wore her out, I am sure. It wore me out. I knew that much and Kojiro too, no doubt. Yet her breathing had a sickening raspy way about it that I did not hear before, and that probably had nothing to do with Kojiro's visit.

"Well?" I snapped, clutching the end of the bed with a growl.

"I want to call my husband," she returned as boldly as she was able. "Or my son."

"Your son?" I said.

"Yes, my son," she said back. "My son Kosei. He's my good and faithful son. He won't betray where you live to Team Rocket if I tell him not to. The best son I have."

"Not even to his father?" I asked.

"My husband now is not his father," said Yamato.

I grunted. "And what will Kosei do that's so helpful?" I could not help the slight tainted tone in my voice.

Closing her eyes, she seemed to be losing focus on our conversation as she muttered something about Kosei being the only loyal son in the whole world, which to me sounded quite like she was heading into sleep, but I could not let her just yet.

"Yamato!" I snapped so sharply that she became alert instantly with a bit of a start.

She moaned.

"What will Kosei do if we call him?" I demanded. "You better hurry and make a decision, because that idiot Kojiro is going to call an ambulance here as soon as he gets home and sooner."

She paid no attention to me and quickly withdrew into her pillow again, tugging at her neck and looking as white as death.

"Yamato!" I growled; though more for fear for her than because I wanted my interrogation continued.

A shiver ran through me, and I almost choked on a sob.

Still she did not answer; just her wheezing breath came back to me as she stared up like a fish pulled out of water.

"YAMATO!" I screamed.

I am not she if she heard or she just lost the ability to answer, but with my final exclamation, I did not wait to hear an answer even if she had been ready to give one. I wrenched the phone out from under the bed stand and called the hospital myself.

#

When we were part of Team Rocket, I envied her ability to shake things off. Oh, sure her temper may have been as bad as mine in her own way (when she got going she could complain for hours, and I mean hours), but she still did not have that exasperating tendency to brood like I had about things like Namba giving us a lecture like we were little kids, or when we failed one too many times, or when a particular meeting or party had not gone the way I had hoped, or we got assigned to something dull or what I considered below my standards.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Yamato had lived in Team Rocket practically her whole life. She had not felt the same need to fight nonstop against a past that would constantly bring up old failures from a crappy life. She had not felt the need to fight to keep her position in the same way I had. Her brother had brought her to Team Rocket when she was four years old. Nobu had had his fair share broody moments, and to be honest I had considered him a moody dork and could not stand him, but he certainly had been remembering things that Yamato had been too young to retain before she came to Team Rocket.

She had tricked Kojiro and me about how much she really hurt. She had bounced back from me rejecting her romantic advances better than I thought she would have, but I am sure she did not forgive me.

When I found out that she had almost died in the hospital more than once, I had planned to visit. Then she was on the mend, and I did not have the heart to come. She would not want to see me, I was sure of that, and if she did, that meant I really did not want to see her, for she may just press me again. Most of all, I could not face the fact that she would have been far better off if I had just called the hospital to begin with instead of being so stubborn. I could have killed her for my stupidity and pigheadedness.

And why had I gotten Kojiro involved?

I already told myself I hated him.

I think it was because I was afraid to touch Yamato myself.

It is interesting to note that two ambulances came for Yamato that day. He had called one too. No doubt he told Musashi what had happened in full and no doubt he got an earful whether Musashi was still in the habit of konking people over the head or not. I was the one who invited him and I would have konked him over the head for being so stupid as to come.

The only activity I did for a while was to send Kojiro's medical stuff back to his house. I had pushed him out so quickly that he had not had the chance to get his things.

I hated him.

Why had I given him back his stuff?

Because though I hated him, all Kojiro had wanted was to help Yamato and me. I had absolutely no idea why he wanted to help us, but he did with all the stupid honest earnestness an idiot goody-two shoes could possibly have.

Oh, I hated him.

I stayed at home; I went to work. Visiting her in the hospital lingered on my mind, but just when I had gathered enough courage to at least call her, I learned that she had been kidnapped. It did not take much thought to know who had done the kidnapping. An image of some skinny little boy dressed in black sneaking into the hospital with the help of some pokémon or other passed through my mind.

Thus the brooding really began. I may have brooded in the old days of Team Rocket, but I could brood a storm now. Dark clouds hung over my head. I kept to myself more than before. My manager had to "talk" to me about it, and the little he got out of me had him convinced I should get help. I did not want help. I wanted to brood and to feel sorry for myself. I began to think that I may have been wrong to reject Yamato's offer. Many dreams haunted me of a life in some paradise with her as my new wife. Yachts, coconuts, and bamboo resorts and all the pleasures of vacations I once had rolled into one but these often turned to nightmares of Team Rocket as a band of ninja coming to rip out my heart for taking their agent away. Her husband or her son often would be the leaders of these expeditions.

The bar started to look very enticing again …

#

"Oh, Kojiro, why?" moaned Musashi. "He already took advantage of you more than once. He doesn't want your help! Why can't you get that through your head? Every time he comes into your life you're the one who's affected by him, and you turn into a pitiful wreck! I won't have it this time." She paused with a frown. "Not to mention the fact that he convinced you to do something really stupid behind my back." She shook her head and turned away as Kojiro lowered his head still ashamed of that day. "Kojiro, please. You're happy now. Just forget him."

Kojiro sighed, and for a moment he looked exceedingly unhappy about the whole thing. He had made his query so light and optimistic that now to see his reaction to what she had to say, Musashi had to soften up a bit. Leaning toward him, she touched his hair and held it just enough so that her hold was not yet a tug, and she looked him squarely in the eye.

"Kojiro?" she said. "None of them want your help. Not Yamato. Not Kosanji. Not those other agents … Come on! You wouldn't be able to convince yourself if you went back in time and tried to change us."

"Some of the people from the Shadow Project—" Kojiro started to say, but Musashi put a finger up to his lips.

"But those people weren't Team Rocket agents." She paused thoughtfully a moment and then added, "You only want to help Kosaburo because he's here. If it was anyone else from Team Rocket you'd be trying to do the same thing."

"Yeah," Kojiro agreed. "But that's why I want to invite him. He's here, and I can do something. I have a whole estate! I have to try."

"Kojiro, all the money in the world could not change that stubborn idiot," said Musashi.

"I didn't mean that!" Kojiro cried. "It's just …"

He smiled, his ill ease subsiding, and his smile was by no means weak, though it was not intense. With a gentleness and a firmness about him that made Musashi listen with all openness, he said, "Just this last time, Musashi. Just this last time, and I promise I won't invite him again, but I just have to try this one last time."

Rolling her eyes, Musashi slumped into the nearby armchair and dropped her head onto her fist.

"Alright, fine," she grumbled, then looking up at Kojiro she added, "but he probably won't come. You're going to be disappointed."

"Just to try," said Kojiro.

"Why is it that ever since we got married it's almost impossible to say no to you?"Musashi demanded. "You hand out money in the streets, Kojiro. You find little projects with certain people to help them get jobs and find their puppies and stuff. You actually go looking for it! You're crazy. I can't stand it, and you drive me crazy too. You're too good for your own good sometimes!"

Kojiro lowered his head and twiddled his fingers.

"I'm not that, I'm hardly that," he muttered, and then he said, "Does it really drive you crazy?"

"Come on, knock it off, Kojiro, I'm obsessed with you," she muttered. "Just being with you drives me crazy."

Kojiro let out a wry smile and leaning down he gave her the most gallant, sweeping kiss on the head but not without a pinch of a playful wryness about him.

"Oh, no you don't," Musashi said pushing him away, but she was smiling as well now.

She liked his gallant moments. She always had. They had always been few and far between when they were agents. Of late she had been doing her best to urge them out of him more, but she found that more often than not they came of their own accord when she least expected it. She also had to admit that his gallantness came most from his desire to make others happy, especially his family, and to make up for his rotten past. She just did not want him to try so hard that he brought harm to himself.

#

When I first saw that the envelope had an official label of the Niwa Estate I already had it set between my hands to rip it in half. Tearing through it, I just made to throw it away when I stopped. I'm not sure why I stopped, but taking both halves of the colorful paper inside I let the envelope fall away and put the pieces of the card together on the table and opened the flaps.

"Christmas party," I grunted, and I glanced up the nyaasu who had recently made himself more a permanent resident of the house and now had his own little basket near the radiator in the kitchen.

He cocked his head but looked too sleepy to bother with what I had to say.

"Musashi and Kojiro are idiots," I muttered.

The card halves remained on the table though, strangely enough for a few days. Then finally making my decision, I tossed the shiny, glittery front to the nyaasu for his amusement and threw the rest of it away.

"You have got to be some kind of idiot," I said as if Kojiro stood in front of me, "for you and your wife to actually want me to come to your stupid party and to actually think that I would come besides. What's the matter with you? Don't you know I hate your guts!"

But it was getting harder and harder to hate that idiot or his wife whether I planned on attending or not.