CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE SISTERS

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE SISTERS

SEVEN YEARS AGO

Vana salus, semper dissolubilis….

Am I the reason?

"NABIKI!"

In horror, she dropped the sharp metal object in her hands and ran from their room through the dark, silent halls like she had never run before. Ordinarily, she would have had no chance of outrunning him, even though she had always been a fast runner in her own right. His speed existed in a league of its own. Now, however, he was still limping from the blows she had evidently given him between the legs and behind the left knee earlier. She did not want to hurt him, but she had, using the very skills he had taught her to protect herself to do so.

She had to get away. Somewhere, anywhere where no one would see or hear her. She could not put up with that shit about not making girls cry. Whether he kept the words to himself or not — probably the latter if she had stayed long enough to let him talk — would make no difference. Besides, tonight was her wedding night. If she needed to cry, then she damned well fucking would.

For better or worse, Nabiki was still a Tendou, even if she had legally signed away her name that morning. She had tried to warn him. Her dreams were still far too vivid and dangerous. The very idea of her ever ending up agreeing with that fucker Tolstoy made her sick to her stomach.

Yet, the fact remained that they had not been able to make their way here to Hakone from Tokyo in any normal, sensible way. She could no longer do simple things like sit still on a train. Tolstoy despised them. Half of Anna Karenina had even been about trains. Now she hated them too.

In fairness, the bus ride should not have been as bad as it turned out to be. However, an unusually brutal Winter storm blew in from the North, making a two hour ride take almost six instead. More than once, the driver's determination to actually forge ahead surprised her. The kitchen closed by the time they checked into the ryokan. Their dinner consisted of canned beers and instant noodles from a vending machine. At least they had Kirins and the really spicy Korean beef-flavored kind.

The sex after had been very good too — almost enough even to give back some meaning to the day and the night. Now, however, in her hypnopompic fugue, Nabiki had erased that last remaining hope with her crazy mood-killing rampage. Domestic abuse really. She would not mince words. No point. Not even a day, and already she had broken her vows.

Watashi ni nokotte iru no wa anata dakedesu. Itsumademo eien ni, anata no koto mo… mamoru….

(You are all I have left. I will always protect you too….)

Everything was coming apart at the seams. She no longer knew right from wrong, only that her foolishly noble idiot of a husband still stubbornly refused to act in his best interests. He did not have to be a martyred masochistic glutton for punishment, definitely deserved far better than that. He should stay away, not share her bed or even have married her.

In the aftermath of all the shit in the months after the hanami, however, Ranma had been so damnably persistent, and Nabiki really did love him. Yet, no amount of love between them could ever right all the wrong things that had happened or bring back what she had lost. Ironically, Akane of all people had seen to it that Nabiki would have no one else to turn to, nowhere else to go, no other choice that she could make.

Promise you'll take care of him, Oneechan, and that you'll be happy….

Between the darkness and the fiery sting of her eyes, Nabiki finally made out the curtain marking the women's side of the baths. She blitzed past all of the empty pools toward the automatic glass doors at the far end of the bathhouse and burst out into the white flurries swirling around in the icy night sky. Panting in the hushed silence, she frantically threw off her robe like a dirty snake skin — an absolutely stupid thing to do. The cold seized her with the sharpness of a thousand knives driving all at once through every last filthy, damnable pore of her skin. Everything hurt, especially the old scar over her left breast. Convulsing from the shock of her mistake, she sank to her knees and buried her naked body in the thick, murky heat of the outdoor pool's sulfurous spring water.

Finally. Alone.

It was still just a little past three in the morning. Everyone was still asleep. Even then, Ranma would not dare to come after her here. She was sure of it. This was the women's side. A place like this would have security cameras in all the right places. The water here was far too warm to keep him female.

Mt. Fuji's unmistakable silhouette stared back at Nabiki in the darkness. She wanted to look away with every fiber of her being, but knew that she could not. She had far too much guilt and shame for that. She hugged her knees close to her breasts and finally allowed herself to cry. Bitterly, she mused how all of her sound and fury too had amounted to little more than boiled water for instant noodles. She felt so incredibly tired of fighting.

Nietzsche and Tolstoy would agree that Anna's existence had been pointless. Nietzsche would have thought so based on her suicide negating any potential consequentiality her life might have had. Tolstoy, on the other hand, had considered Anna ending her life the most right thing she ever did. He hated Nietzsche, thought he should burn in Hell for his embrace of the individual and her interests.

Who knew what Nietzsche would have done if he had been around to have his chance to answer Tolstoy. Maybe he would not have bothered to dignify the critique with a reply at all, or he could have torn his overly entitled have-all ass of a critic a new one. Without question, Nietzsche would prevail — if Nabiki's own sutra mantra had actually reflected what Akiko had really been trying to teach all along.

You're confusing yourself again with your own unconscious biases.

That was true. Nabiki had misunderstood both Nietzsche and her mother. She could finally see that now. Akane had been and would always be a martial artist — never an Anna. Regardless of Nabiki's good intentions, she had been wrong about her sister. She would never be as good or strong of a person as Akane.

It is only possible for us to live for as long as life intoxicates. Once sober, we cannot help seeing that it is all a delusion — a stupid fucking delusion….

Do ya believe in love?

Here I am losing beauty sleep on a Sunday morning over buttered toast, sunny side up eggs, and bacon trying to sort out your love life…. What do you think?

I think the truth is that ya like sunny side up eggs too when no one else is lookin'. Just like fried chicken….

Asshole.

Am I the reason?

# # # # #

They had not spoken in months. Not ever since the night when Akane saw them together. She had always known that her time to talk to Akane was not infinite. Akane, however, ended up being the one who rolled the dice, surprising everyone with an unannounced visit back to Tokyo a few weeks after the hanami.

I HATE YOU, NABIKI! NOT FOR BEING THE ONE HE CHOSE, BUT FOR LYING TO ME. NOT TRUSTING ME, NOT TELLING ME! I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU!

The "I hate you" had not actually hurt all that much. She had heard the words far too many times before from far too many people. The "Nabiki" part, however, did — a lot. Not "Oneechan". Just simply "Nabiki". No matter how angry Akane had ever been before, she had never addressed Nabiki that way.

She wanted to cry and scream.

She needed to find a way to breathe.

She had to talk to her sister.

She called many times, sent countless text messages, and wrote long, heartfelt e-mails. Akane never replied to any of them. Nabiki feared the worst and called her sister's therapist more than once. The shrink never told her anything, of course, but assured her that Akane continued coming for sessions. Nabiki could hold on to at least that much, though she still could not stop thinking about Akane.

She stalked the Tisch School's performances website. When the link for opening night tickets went live for "As Long As Life Intoxicates", Nabiki pounced, purchasing a seat dead center in the front row. Even if Nabiki did not get to speak to Akane, she wanted to be sure her sister knew that she had come.

Akane 's debut performance was simply sublime. On stage, she moved and spoke with a poignant grace like nothing that Nabiki had seen before. She truly could not tell where her sister ended and Anna began. Akane's eyes seemed to roam everywhere but front and center. Yet, from the loving, heartfelt anguish of Akane's words and body language, Nabiki knew beyond any doubt that her sister had seen her. Not a single dry eye remained after in the house.

The world itself seemed to shudder beneath the very the weight of Jerusalem bells ringing and St. Peter's silence proclaiming the eternal anguish and suffering of the damned. Memories of pizza and mochi, magical curses and quests, inane chaos and insanity appeared one after another before her mind's eye, mingling with unending cries and screams which she once again had no voice to express.

She was proud of Akane. Mom would have been too.

Amidst the thunderous, feverish applause at the end, Nabiki shouted her sister's name at the top of her lungs, but even she could not hear herself. The cast swarmed around her sister, lifted her up in their arms, and carried her away as the curtain fell. Everyone loved Akane.

Snapping to her feet, Nabiki snuck behind stage, found Akane's dressing room and let herself in. A triumphant grin tugged at her lips as she spotted her sister's purse and phone on the dresser. Akane would have to come back here at some point. She would be able to tell Akane what she had crossed an ocean to say.

However, four minutes quickly turned to fourteen and then forty-four. An hour passed and then almost two. Then the lights in the hall went out, and Nabiki understood. With a defeated sigh, she glanced at her watch, gathered up her sister's things, and left. She would at least drop them at Akane's place, even if, once again, no one would answer the door.

En route, however, she did not see or hear the creep who evidently followed her from the theatre to the station. He came out of nowhere. Put his filthy hands around her neck. Shoved her back hard against the window. Leered down at her with hungry, reptilian eyes as he mumbled some obscene shit in her ear about devouring her delicious foreign tits and pussy between his teeth before sending her to Hell.

Glancing around, she saw that they were alone in the carriage. She was not scared though. If anything, she found herself annoyed yet again by her looks and the nature of some men. The bastard had picked the wrong foreign girl to mess with. Definitely, no one back in Japan would ever think much of Nabiki's martial prowess, but she was still a Tendou.

As hard and fast as she could manage, she drove her left knee into the bigoted misogynist's balls. His hands dropped from her neck to his crotch as he crumpled to the floor in pain. Immediately after, Nabiki followed up by smashing her fist into his Adam's apple and then charged forward to flip him over her shoulder onto his pathetic bony rubbish of an ass. He struggled visibly to breath as he scrambled back away from her. Still, his angry eyes gave away the fight that he still had left in him. No matter. With what Ranma had taught her all those nights at the gym, she bristled with confidence that she could make short work of the sorry fucker.

Before she even saw it, however, she heard the hammer click into place. She could not help thinking to herself how it even sounded just like they made them sound in movies. He told her to step back and put her hands behind her head or he would blow that pretty fucking head off that beautiful body of hers before having his way with her. From the crazed light in his eyes, though, she knew that he probably intended to do so regardless of what she did.

Everyone's faces flashed like a storm before her eyes, just as they had that day long ago in Suginami.

Her mother with unspeakable depths of sorrow and disappointment. Even her father and Kasumi with begrudging sadness and regret.

Daigoro, Kumi, Takashi, and William crying about all the games they would not have the chance to play together.

Kozue raging at her for leaving without giving her a fair chance to have the last word.

Ranma with angry forlorn regret for the life they would never get to share.

Akane with heartbreak and betrayal shimmering all over again in her beautiful eyes.

Sors immanis et inanis,

Rota tu volubilis, status malus

Vana salus,

Semper dissolubilis

Obumbrata et velata,

Michi quoque niteris…!

(Fate, cruel and inane

You are a malevolent spinning wheel,

Vain hopes for my well being,

Inevitably fading into nothingness

Veiled and in shadows,

You torment me…!)

If she really would die today, then Nabiki intended to do so fighting to the very end. She looked around one more time. Still no one else. Nothing within reach either that could be useful.

Fuck. So be it. The pounding of her her heart thundered in her ears as she braced herself. She expected to feel pain like never before, hoped it would all end quickly one way or another and that maybe Mom would even be waiting for her. Most likely, however, everything she ever was would just become lost in the eternal darkness of Oblivion. At least she got to see Akane one last time.

I love you, and I'm sorry….

From that point, however, everything became surreal, so quick like something straight out of a Hollywood action movie — except not. She did not have the time to react. A deafening impact that shook the floor followed by a hail of shattered glass. Gunshots — three or four of them — concurrently with another thunderous crash and then more shattered glass. Someone was suddenly standing between her and the man, his motionless body now embedded deep in the carriage's opposite wall, shards of glass and fractured metal embedded in his face and skull. Clearly, he would not be bothering Nabiki or anyone else ever again.

Dimly, however, her numb mind registered that something still was not right. Her savior was a girl with short hair, and she was falling backward toward Nabiki. Instinctively, she threw her arms out to catch the girl and eased her onto the floor. She suddenly found herself covered all over with something thick and sticky, warm and metallic in her hands.

"Oneechan…."

Nabiki felt the blood within her turn to ice. She shut her eyes and violently shook her head, unwilling to believe. The voice, however, came at her again, hoarse and raspy.

"It's okay, Oneechan. You can open your eyes. It's over. Sorry that I… that I was…."

Akane could not finish her sentence. She began coughing, choking. There were no words that could adequately describe the impossibly sad, pained expression on her beautiful, weary, blood-stained face.

The blood — it oozed freely from the gaping hole that Nabiki had not notied before in Akane's chest. Desperately, Nabiki ripped off her coat and pressed it up against the wound, frantically trying to tamponade the damn thing as best she could. There was simply too much of the blood though, already all over them both. Its warm, sticky feel and thick, metallic smell. In the sisters' hair, their hands, their clothes — everywhere. It would not come out, could never be washed away.

"SOMEBODY HELP! SOMEBODY! ANYBODY!" Nabiki screamed as she clung thightly to Akane's broken body. She was so very light and cold in Nabiki's shaking arms. Again and again she cried out for help. No one answered.

"You idiot!" she told her sister between hot, stinging tears. "Mom asked me to look after you! You shouldn't have done that! Not for me!"

"It's okay. I… I love you, Oneechan."

"I love you too! I love you! Everything will be fine. Someone will come soon. Just stay with me! Please, Akane!"

You're all I have left of Mom….

Akane could not last though. They both knew that time would run out soon. With one final Herculean effort, Akane moved to finish what she had started. She seized Nabiki's face by the chin, forced her sister to look directly at the shimmering light in her fading eyes, and asked for the promise that would chain Nabiki behind in the world of the living.

"Promise that you'll take care of him, Oneechan, and that you'll be happy."

Nabiki could not think. Her tongue and lips moved with a life and will of their own, compelling her to give the only answer she could as she helplessly embraced Akane for the last time.

"Yes, I promise. For you, I'll keep my word…."

"Thank you, Oneechan. Thank you…," Akane whispered. Then, she was gone, leaving Nabiki alone with her broken body and the mangled corpse of the fucking bastard who had done this to them.

FUCK HIM! FUCK HIM, FUCK HIM, FUCK HIM AND HIS FILTHY, ROTTEN, FUCKING BALLS!

She would rip them off and shove them down his throat with her bare hands. She lunged forward, kicked with all her might at the dead man's crotch again and again. When her foot became too sore and the floor became too thick with blood for her to keep her balance, she ripped out one of the larger broken glass shards in ihis skull and prepared to plunge the shard deep into the sorry pulp that remained of his fucking genitals.

# # # # #

Except there had been no corpse at her feet. No glass shard in her hands either. Just someone shouting at her in the darkness.

Horror set in as reality gradually registered. Ranma was writhing on the futon before her. She was kneeling over him with a letter opener clutched above her head in a two-handed death grip. She was ready to plunge the tip into him.

You're all I have left.

That was what she had told him the morning before. She could no longer be sure of even that.

I will always protect you.

The shiny new ring on her left hand burned and felt unbearably heavy. She looked up, no longer able to stand the sight of her hand. Fuji's silhouette still remained before her, silently staring back at her in the darkness with the same unspoken accusation.

In reality, she never did anything to the damned corpse — simply held Akane's cold, unmoving form in her arms until the fucking worthless cops came. She almost laughed when they pronounced her sister dead before her. The absurdity of the moment was obscenely inane. They tried to lead her away, but she refused until she saw to it that they treated Akane's body with dignity before taking it away. They questioned her after. She said what she could, though it seemed to come entirely from someone else's lips — just like her vows and every other promise she had made.

None of what she told them mattered either way. There could be no justice for Akane. Gruesome as the bastard's demise looked to the living he had gotten off far too easy. Akane's blow had killed him instantly.

At some point, the first rays of morning sun began to arc in from above, gradually illuminating Fuji' immutable, pristine snow-covered cap in the distance. Another day of nothing new. The fact remained that Nabiki had lied. Even though Ranma had come for her. Even though she loved him. Even though she had promised Akane and Mom. All of them loved her fully and without condition. Yet, all she gave them in return were fickle, untrue words. She had lied to everyone.

She could not protect him any more than she had been able to look after her sister. She could not be happy. She could not forgive herself. Nothing had changed. She was still not strong enough. Whatever voice she had now meant no more than not having one when her mother died.

Corde pulsum tangite,

Quod per sortem

Sternit fortem

Mecum omnes plangite…!

(Strike at the vital chord of my heart

Because Fate

Strikes down even the strong

All come now and mourn…!)

You ain't crazy….

Bullshit.

I ain't laughin' at ya….

He should laugh at her. Everyone else had. All along, they had been right to do so.

# # # # #