P_ocahontas_X
XOXOXO
"Waking up, half past five. Blood on pillow. One bruised eye. Drunk too much, you know what I'm like. But you should've seen the other guy…
In my dark times I'll be going back to the street, promising everything I do not mean.
In my dark time, baby this is all I could be. And only my mother can love me for me. In my dark times, in my dark times."
Dark Times - The Weeknd ft. Ed Sheeran.
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#19: Memoires of a Broken Soul
"If your mom can't find it, it's gone forever."
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There weren't a lot of things that ticked Shizuru Viola off.
She prided herself with her ability to remain cool, calm, and collected in even the most tumultuous situations. But there was something about the scene before her that really rubbed her the wrong way.
To any onlookers, she was simply rummaging through her locker for supplies she needed for her next class. But to a more trained gaze, one could tell she wasn't rifling through her impeccably clean locker at all.
No, her attention was fixed on the two individuals speaking in hushed tones a few feet away. Nothing wrong with that, really. Just two friends gossiping, right?
No.
Natsuki didn't gossip. Natsuki didn't talk to anyone other than herself and her select group of friends despite being so popular. So just who the hell is this pretty little brunette she was currently talking to?
"Ara," Shizuru mumbled to herself, "When did I become the jealous type?"
She wasn't. Well, at least she didn't think she was. What could she possibly be jealous of? Natsuki was hers and vice versa. They were living together, and expecting not one, but two bundles of joy. Surely this girl had nothing on her, right?
Right?
Although in her defense, this girl was standing far too close to Natsuki for her liking. She was close enough that Shizuru had no doubt she could smell Natsuki's body wash. Her hands were clasped neatly behind her back, but her posture was flirtatious.
Could posture be flirtatious? Well, if it could hers would be it.
Natsuki's face was set in that familiar soft scowl she wore at school. Shizuru knew her girlfriend well enough to know that Natsuki didn't really scowl on purpose. It was a result of her unique facial structure.
Her brows were just positioned low enough that it always looked as though she were upset, and the intensity of her eyes only added to that.
However, Shizuru took joy out of the fact that Natsuki didn't seem to be enjoying their conversation at all. (Was that selfish of her to say?) Oh boy, maybe she was the jealous type.
Natsuki's companion seemed to be having the time of her life. The way she giggled louder than necessary, (at such close proximity too!) and the way she swung those long, chocolatey brown locks back and forth.
Natsuki loved chocolate…
"Ara, when did I become so insecure?" the tawny-haired teen chuckled humorously. She looked in the mirror in the back of her locker and gasped when she saw the state of her expression. She looked like a spoiled child who'd just been told no.
She quickly fixed her face into that easygoing mask of serenity she always wore.
She looked longingly at her girlfriend. She wanted all of Natsuki's attention all of the time and she wasn't afraid to admit it.
"Hello gorgeous," a deep, sensual voice caressed the aggravated young woman's ear drums.
"Hello, Reito." was her disinterested reply.
Reito pouted and crossed his arms as he leaned against the lockers to Shizuru's left. "I haven't seen you in days and that's all I get?"
Shizuru reluctantly averted her gaze. Her best-friend's tone was only mock hurt, but she could see how much he missed her in his molten amber gaze. "Mou, I'm sorry, Reito. I missed you too."
She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his muscled chest. "It's okay," he mumbled, kissing the top of her head, "How are you? How is she?"
Shizuru sighed. "I am fine. She is frustrated and irritable and hurting and I don't know how to properly help her."
"You're going all you can."
"I feel as though it isn't enough." Shizuru whispered.
Is that why Natsuki was talking to that girl? Was she providing something Shizuru was not? "Who is that?" she inquired before she could stop herself.
"Hm," Reito squinted his eyes in hopes of catching a glimpse of the brunette's face. "Ah, Senoh Aoi. Just transferred from Cardair last week. Cheerleading captain, top of her class, and volunteers at the animal shelter on weekends."
Shizuru's dislike deepened.
"She's super sweet," Reito continued, oblivious to his friend's growing aggravation. "Funny too. She's already had at least twenty guys ask her out."
"Oh?" Shizuru's fingers tightened on the back of Reito's shirt.
"Mhm, but unfortunately she only plays for your team." he winked. Shizuru went from being comforted by his presence to wanting to poke his eye out just like that.
To Shizuru's extreme relief, Natsuki took that exact moment to look around and locked eyes with her. Her expression softened. Those dark brows rose just a smidget, and her green eyes twinkled. She was happy to see her.
Shizuru was happy to see her too.
The girl's head turned, probably interested in seeing what got her broody companion so uplifted. Shizuru tried not to sneer; damn, she was beautiful. She had pretty lips, soft round features, and her eyes were a shade of blue Shizuru had only ever seen on wolves. Surely, they couldn't be real.
They had to be contacts, of course.
Natsuki stepped around the girl intent on reaching her girlfriend. To Shizuru's dismay, the girl followed.
"Hey," Natsuki said, sliding her good arm around her shoulders. Her lips pressed against Shizuru's temple. The PDA caught Shizuru off-guard, but she didn't let it show. Her hand rose to rest on Natsuki's abdomen, dangerously low on her waistline.
"Uh Shizuru, this is Aoi." Natsuki continued. "She's new."
"Ara, it is a pleasure." Shizuru said, hugging Natsuki's arm possessively.
Aoi's eyes shamelessly gave Shizuru a once-over. Shizuru silently bristled. The dark-haired brunette smiled like she was satisfied with what she saw. "Likewise." even her voice made Shizuru's insides boil.
How dare her words sound like sweet symphonies!?
"Reito," Aoi dipped her head in greeting. The boy smiled back. "Natsuki was just telling me about you." she directed her last statement at Shizuru.
"Oh?" Shizuru's response was a little less than a challenge. "Good things I hope." She stroked the inside of Natsuki's wrist lovingly.
"Great things, actually." Aoi replied, flashing Natsuki a disarming smile.
Before Shizuru could interrogate her further the bell rang, signalling the start of the next period. Reito quickly excused himself.
"Oh, gotta run," Aoi said, still smiling, "Maybe we can continue this later. I hope we can be friends."
"Likewise." Shizuru replied.
"Creep," Natsuki muttered once the girl was out of earshot. "I swear she gives me the…"
The rest of her sentence was cut short as Shizuru's lips claimed hers. She melted into the kiss instantly, leaning back against the lockers for support. Kids rushed past in their haste to get to class. Some ran into each other and inanimate objects while trying to watch the steamy kiss between Fuuka's Princess and the Rebel.
Pretty soon, the hallway was empty. Both were late for class, but neither cared. Natsuki's lips tasted like candy, something blueberry to be exact. Enamored with the taste, she began sucking on her girlfriend's lower lip. She smiled at Natsuki's sharp intake of breath.
Her left hand, the one that had been dangerously low to begin with, dipped even lower until it was right below Natsuki's belt. Her hand closed around the front of her groin, the unspoken word already present.
Mine.
Natsuki groaned very softly as Shizuru took her earlobe in between her teeth. Using her tongue to massage the hot flesh, she began nibbling and sucking around the diamond in her ear. "Fuck, Shiz." she breathed. "You're going to get us in trouble."
"Ara," another nibble, "Since when has the Big Bad Wolf been afraid of a little trouble?"
"Since trouble goes by the name of Haruka Armitage!" A familiar voice boomed somewhere behind Shizuru.
Shizuru and Natsuki jumped apart, but Natsuki managed to grab a hold of her girlfriend's waist to keep her positioned in front of her. She berated herself for wearing skinny jeans today. No, she berated herself for allowing her mischevious girlfriend to have her way with her right in the middle of a busy hallway.
Haruka was glaring at them, her foot tapping impatiently. "Well?"
"Ara, hello Haruka." Shizuru said pleasantly. "It seems the weather has improved."
"Good thing too! I was beginning to… Hey! Don't try to change the subject, Bubuzuke!" Haruka barked, wagging her finger in Shizuru's face. "Why aren't you two in ass!?"
"I was on my way…" Natsuki mumbled.
Shizuru pinched her wrist and straightened up when she felt something press against her lower back.
"This is all your fault." Natsuki hissed.
Shizuru couldn't help but smirk. Surely Aoi didn't have this effect on Natsuki. "Down girl." she teased.
Neither one of them noticed Haruka had been ranting until she went silent, impatiently awaiting their responses. "Are you to dead!?"
"Ara, deaf." Shizuru corrected.
"You know what I meant!" Haruka pinched the bridge of her nose. "Ugh. Since this is your first tardy Shizuru I'm going to let you off with a warning. You, however." she pointed to Natsuki, whose face was an interesting shade of red. "This is your…" she paused, and brought her hands up to her face to do the calculations. "Seventeenth tardy this month!"
"Ara, seventeen?" Shizuru raised a brow. "Really? It isn't like Natsuki isn't already here…"
"Twelve of those tardies are because of you!"
"Ara, how is it that I can make it to class before the bell rings but Natsuki cannot?"
"Maybe because you don't have to worry about anyone being able to see your junk when you're turned on?!"
"Fufufu, I wasn't aware that I made Natsuki's life so hard."
"Gah!" It was Natsuki's turn to point the accusatory finger now. It didn't take a genius to figure out who was on the receiving end of it. "Y-you know exactly what you're doing!"
"And what exactly am I doing, Nat~su~ki?"
"You're trying to do me!"
"Ara, I'm afraid I have no idea what Natsuki is talking about."
Haruka was lost. She glanced back and forth between the bickering pair, uncertainty flickering in her bright eyes. She had no idea what was going on, but something was telling her she didn't want to either. Slowly, she backtracked the way she came. Neither one of them noticed. She was sure they'd already forgotten she was present.
Even the ever spontaneous Haruka Armitage knew when to leave something alone.
"...I think Natsuki needs to relax…" Shizuru giggled softly. Her warm breath sent shivers down Natsuki's spine. She found herself being tugged down the hallway, opposite of the way Haruka went. Her heartbeat sped up dramatically and her palms grew moist as anticipation began to set in.
She was already turned on. The bulge in her jeans wouldn't go unnoticeable. That's why she was sure to stay glued to Shizuru's hip.
Shizuru's hips… boy had they increased in size during these last few weeks. Just looking at them made Natsuki's mouth water.
The restroom was in sight now. Natsuki slid her arm around her girlfriend's waist and leaned her chin against Shizuru's temple.
Wait, since when had they become equal in height?! Up until now, Shizuru had always been an inch or two taller than her. A growth spurt must've crept up on her.
It's been days since they last had sex. With all the commotion going on it was nearly impossible for them to engage in such activities, especially with her still fresh injuries. The release would be good for both of them. She'd rather not have sex in a dingy school bathroom, but hey, if she learned anything in the past few days it was to enjoy the little things.
But alas, to her relief and dismay, Shizuru led her right past the restroom. Four minutes later she found herself standing right outside her fourth period classroom, staring at her girlfriend's back as she continued down the hallway.
Shizuru tossed a flirtatiously smug wink over her shoulder. "Ara, I do hope Nishimura-sensei doesn't call on Natsuki." she gestured down south.
"Y-you little…" Natsuki's reprimand deflated when she realized the comment wouldn't deter her girlfriend even in the slightest.
"Later," Shizuru mouthed before offering her girlfriend a happy little wave. It was only when she disappeared around the corner when Natsuki muttered, "Minx," and marched right back in the direction of the bathroom.
Nishimura-sensei and Advanced Japanese History could wait. Her not so little problem could not.
XXX
"This is the last of her things. I'm so sorry for your loss, Lady Kruger."
This young man -she couldn't remember his name for the life of her- was probably somewhere around her granddaughter's age or possibly a bit older seeing as he was only an intern. He was standing in front of a set of polished steel lockers. One of which was opened, and decorated with small photos of various musical groups and family members.
A beautiful little girl with dark hair and bright green eyes outnumbered any of the other photographs two to one. Namiko absently traced the one on the front of her daughter's locker.
It was of Reagan and Natsuki on Natsuki's tenth birthday. The little girl was sitting in her dad's left knee with her arms folded, glaring at Nao who was sitting on Reagan's opposite knee sporting the same pose. Reagan's hands were settled atop each girl's head as she sheepishly smiled at the camera.
The young man grabbed the last few items littering Reagan's locker and packed them neatly in a little box. "Hang on," he said as he spotted something hiding in the corner. "This is actually the last thing."
Namiko's heart stopped for what seemed to be the thousandth time today as he extracted a long, silken fabric from a tiny compartment in the back of the locker. He placed it in her hands and took a few steps back. His youthful gaze was filled with admiration and awe as he stared at the seemingly divine being in front of him.
To most, Lady Namiko of House Kruger was a living, breathing relic from the past. Dressed in her beautiful silk kimono and still sporting a headful of long, gorgeous, knee-length nearly white hair, she looked like some sort of divine priest from the ancient world.
"She… kept this?" Namiko murmured as her fingers lightly feathered over the fabric of the object in her hands.
"Mhm," the young man pursed his lips, "I'm one of her… well, I was one of her assistants. She wore it to work every single day. I've never seen her without it."
"I… made this for her when she was only a child…" Namiko whispered. She brought the fabric beneath her chin and clutched it tightly to her chest.
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Thirty years ago
Fuuka, Japan
5 years after Hiroshima
Lady N. Kruger
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It's been five years since the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Five long years. Five years since I lost my mother. Five years since my near-death experience. Five years since I met the love of my life, and four years since I have been blessed with the greatest gift a woman could ever ask for.
A child.
Reagan is four now, and she is as hyperactive as ever. I cannot seem to get her to sit still for longer than a moment. She has my eyes, but she grows to look more and more like her father with each passing day.
She is rather large for a four year-old, not particularly weight-wise, but in both stature and posture. She is long-legged and agile, much like a deer, but she has the heart of a lion.
She is smart for her age, and wickedly clever. I seem to be her favorite person to play pranks on when Riku, her cousin, is not around.
When I first found out I was going to be a mother, I was terrified. I am fragile because of the injury to my back I sustained in Hiroshima. I was also very young, only seventeen with no real family.
My mother was all I had. I'd never known my father. Mother never spoke of them. I didn't even know if he were a man or if she were a woman.
I often thought about terminating my pregnancy. I was still very weak and very damaged from the war, but Ren reassured me that all would be well, and that she would forever be by my side.
She often left me alone for long periods of time due to her occupation as a soldier in the Armed Forces. That gave me a lot of time to think. I remember staying awake most nights until the sun began its ascension across the sky, simply thinking, contemplating, preparing myself for this new life.
Reagan was born three days early, on a night where the moon was an eerie shade of gold and the skies were being torn apart by meteor showers. Ren was there. I remember the bones in her left hand grinding harshly against each other under the pressure of my own.
She was delivered by her father. Ren was the first to touch this new life. I can still remember the look of wonder on her face when she gazed at her newborn daughter, with skin that was gold like her own and hair as black as the depths of the darkest abyss.
And now, as I watch my daughter play in the snow from my place resting comfortably on the veranda, I'm appalled that I once thought of…
"Mother!"
Her tiny legs struggle to navigate through the piles of snow littering the ground, but her determination to get to me outweigh her exhaustion. By the time she reaches me, she is out of breath, but smiling in a way that takes my breath away.
Her bright green eyes lock onto the object in my hands. Her head tilts, and several locks of dark hair spill over her shoulder. She will need a haircut soon. Her tresses graze the backs of her thighs with every single movement. As beautiful as it is, she is very active and I want to prevent any accidents.
"Play with me!" she grabs onto the sleeve of my kimono and tugs dutifully.
I offer her an apologetic smile. "Gomen, my love, but…" I trail off as the disappointment begins to dawn on her beautiful face. The cold makes my scar ache terribly, but seeing her look so upset made my heart ache even more so. She is an only child, and is unfortunately isolated from her peers at school because of her condition.
"Okay." I say instead, and her entire face lights up. Her dimples threaten to swallow her cheeks whole. "But wait." I unfold the object in my hands. It is a fabric the color of the ocean. Blue. Blue is her absolute favorite color.
I rise from my kneeled position on the wooden porch and she slips her hand into mine. She swings back and forth excitedly, often times letting me take the bulk of her weight and kicking her little legs out as far as they could reach.
"I wanna build a snowman." she says to me. She makes a move to detangle her hand from my grasp, but I curl my fingers around her wrist to prevent her from getting away. "Mother?" her eyes are questioning.
I kneel in front of her this time, resting my weight on my shins. Without breaking eye contact, I loop the fabric around her tiny neck, then I take a second to lean back and admire my work. I almost burst out laughing.
The scarf is much too big and long for her. It fits her like a shawl. The ends will drag in her wake, but she looks absolutely adorable. "Do you like it?" I inquire softly. Already, my stomach churns with waves of insecurity.
She mumbles something through the fabric of the scarf that I can not quite catch because the lower half of her face is completely hidden, like a Shinobi. After a few more unsuccessful tries she grows frustrated, and simply decides to just yank it down until her lips were free.
"For me?" she squeaks.
I giggle behind my wrist, an old habit I never seemed to outgrow. "For you, my love." I tell her.
Her smile broadens until it brings new meaning to the word radiance. She snatches the two dangling tails and stuffs them in her coat pocket so they won't drag through the snow. "I love it!"
She throws her arms around my neck and rests her cheek on my shoulder. "Did you make one for daddy too?"
She hasn't seen her father in weeks. Ren is overseas, somewhere in America. She writes often, but it is not the same as having her here. Reagan is growing seemingly faster than the speed of light. I fear one day, when she returns home, her little girl will not be a little girl no longer, but a woman, a woman right before our very eyes.
I hope that day remains an eternity away. With Ren gone most of the time, I am terribly consumed by loneliness. As a healer, I am often visited by recovering soldiers and nomadic families. As beautiful as it is to see such affection swimming among these families, it tires me.
It makes my skin prickle with jealousy. Too see husbands and wives and children so effortlessly at ease has made my insides twists with longing.
Reagan is my everything. If something were to ever happen to her I do not think I could bear to live another day. I'd sooner slit my wrists than let anything corrupt my baby. She holds a place in my heart like no other, and no other shall ever take that place. "No," I admit gently. "I did not."
She stares at the scarf again, and I fear she may have changed her mind about loving it. Her eyes are very intense, far too intense for such a recently developed soul. They swim with intelligence and something else I cannot quite distinguish.
"It's okay," her voice is unusually quiet. "Daddy's in A-mer-wi-ca. They say the streets are gold there. Your necklace gets hot in the sun. So the streets get hot out there too, so daddy won't need a scarf, right?"
"Right." I say softly, completely enamored with her innocence. Where on Earth did she get such an idea?
"Then I'm sure she won't be mad." she concludes, then lazily gestures at the snow beneath her boots. "I'll fly you out this place someday. We can go to A-mer-wi-ca too. Then we'll be a family."
My heart skips several consecutive beats, and not in the way I so dearly desired. But before I can dwell on the comment, my child latches onto the ends of my hair and tugs as gently as she can, gathering my attention. "Play with me." she urges again.
"Alright." I concede and drop to my knees before my child once again, not at all mindful of the frost eating away at my limbs.
Present
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"Ma'am!" The young man's tone was alarmed. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to upset you."
He waved his arms around frantically, unsure of what he should do. It broke his admitabbly sublimated heart to see an old woman so upset. Suddenly, something dawned on him. He was currently tending to Lady Namiko Kruger, Japan's living "princess."
Didn't his boss have a name tattooed on her wrist?
"Aw," he whispered, finally opting to pull the woman into his arms. Natsuki? Nabiko? Natsumi? Something with an 'N'.
Namiko.
So his perverted assumptions were wrong. Namiko wasn't a lover, or a stripper's name on a dare gone wrong, or a mistake of the past. Namiko was his often times emotionless, stoic, sociopathic boss's mother. And he was the one responsible for destroying the tattoo on her forearm.
God, he felt like such an asshole.
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Part 2 coming soon!
Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, everyone! Reality is bittersweet, isn't it?
Also, new content coming soon
A special gift for a special friend.
"Bound by Blood: House of Wolves"
Ever wondered exactly how the Krugers came to be? A deeper look at the formation of one of the most exotic families in Japanese history. Includes a brief history of Kagura, the first "gifted" member of the clan, and the horrors of the war when the bombs hit Hiroshima and Nagasaki through the eyes of Namiko Kruger. Lots of backstories.
Happy birthday, Sage!
Your wishes for baby!Reagan and more Namiko will be granted soon.
Until next time!