CHAPTER THIRTEEN: CRUCIFY MY LOVE

Disclaimer: References to "Crucify My Love" are intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from the references. All rights to "Crucify My Love" and its lyrics belong to Yoshiki Hayashi, "X Japan" and Atlantic Records.

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I don't let feelings cloud my judgment, and I don't have an anger management problem. Most of all, I don't leave decisions that should've been made yesterday sitting around for tomorrow….

Ranma promised; Nabiki believed him.

In return, she finally told him everything, trodding with reckless abandon over the neatly siloed shadows between her many worlds. Even if this would probably be the end of things between them, she could see now that she truly no longer had any choice. Again, she thought of how, crazy Heathen or whatever the fuck she had become, she really was helplessly along for the ride, her Destiny already long ago swept up in the inescapable tides of the sea of Fate. Free will really had always been just an illusion. Truly, the only real choice she had ever had was if she would abide with her eyes closed or otherwise.

He definitely could annoy the shit out of her at times, but talking about herself now was something she needed to do as much for him as for herself. For all the reasons why she could not survive ever losing her voice again. Why she would rather die than live even a single day that way ever again.

Nabiki told him about her mother, her hero. The exotic mysteries of Akiko's British upbringing and with it, all of the beautiful art, philosophy, and insights underlying everything that remained good and meaningful in the whole fucking rotten world around them. The sutra mantra of consequentiality and the admonition about living in the shadows between worlds.

How angry she still was with her father for not having been able to actually understand, appreciate or protect her mother. Soun's ignorance and small-mindedness inherently rendered him incapable of truly loving Akiko, but of course no one knew that. The lie was just too convincing, even to him, with his melodramatic crocodile-tear antics at the mere mention of Akiko's name or his continued refusal even to this day to have Akiko's pictures around the family home. Everyone still bought into that shit. The other city council members, their neighbors — everybody. They wanted to because somehow being a widowed man with three daughters conferred some sort of greater right and validity to a person's grief than actually being a child of the deceased.

The miserable year afterward that nearly killed Nabiki herself. Her psychosomatic mutism, the humiliation she endured from everyone, and the specimen she became for the doctors to arrive at that cold, unfeeling conclusion. All of the nasty, horrible revelations she had about human nature in the process.

The burning drive she had after to get even that had given purpose and meaning to her pain. Her agendas and the wealth redistribution projects she used to sustain them. The Ice Queen persona she created to cloak her crusades and intentions as she reinvented herself. The Nietzschean indignation she had embraced to preserve her dignity in her fight to define and affirm her own self-worth. Why she was studying law and what her academic success and professional aspirations meant now in the grand scheme of her causes.

About Akane, the mess in her head, and the desperate struggle to save her sister. Her own anxiety over whether what she was doing with Akane — whatever that even was — would even matter in the end. How much Nabiki loved Akane and how terrified she was of one day losing her sister too. She doubted she could survive another great loss like that of her Mom.

The sun disappeared long before Nabiki finished talking. More than once, Ranma asked if she wanted to take a break, leave the small city park, and find a warmer, brighter place to continue. By that time, she had become so hoarse that she was really just whispering.

Still, she refused. Her secrets were meant for his ears only, and she had already waited far too long to share her true self with him. She also worried that if they stopped, he might walk away before she could finish. She could hear that possibility in the disconnect between his concerned words and the cool neutrality of his tone.

Yet, he remained like no other boy or man she had ever known. All the beautiful things he had brought into her life flashed again before her mind's eye. The sense of magic and possibilities in Jusenkyo and all the unnaturally comical and unbelievable misfortune that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

Naka-Meguro, Suginami, and all the other times he just happened to have been there to save her from herself.

The art they had shared ever since that day by the canal when she had agreed to teach him.

The solace she had found in their banter ever since that first Christmas Eve in Komaba when they had shared chicken and canned beers.

All the hope of happiness she found in being with him was already more than she had ever shared with any other human being aside from her mother.

He had given her irises too, even if he might not have known what they meant, or maybe he did. That would not surprise her anymore either.

Regardless, she did not have anything near like that to give him. She could not understand how in the world she had lost her way and forgotten those things, taken them and him for granted. More importantly, after hearing herself, she truly had to wonder what he had ever seen in her, and she understood what she had to do.

In the end, she had proved to be so very much like her sister. He deserved a lot more than someone like her — any of the Tendou girls really. The sorry poetic justice about the moment did not escape her.

I don't let feelings cloud my judgment, and I don't have an anger management problem. Most of all, I don't leave decisions that should've been made yesterday sitting around for tomorrow….

Haha!

Be careful about what you wish for. From a distance, things are always simple. The grass is always greener on the other side. The playing field always looks far more obvious to all of the spectators than the players….

She should have let him go sooner.

"Now, you know everything," she told him with a weary, defeated sigh. "Who and what I really am. How really fucked up and crazy in the head Nabiki Tendou is. I just thought that if you knew how weak and crazy I really am inside, that you might…. I understand if you don't think I'm the kind of girl for you. You're probably right when you said the other day that we won't work. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

She wanted to cry, but instead fought with all her will to keep a straight face. The crushing weight of her anxious, naked vulnerability bore down on her, asphyxiating her against the hardening edge of madness emerging again in the darkness. However, she refused to further shame herself with yet another display of weakness. In addition, she did not want to be misunderstood as trying to coerce pity, the kind of low ball shit that the other crazy Nerima girls she hated used to pull on him all the time. Despite all of the wonderful things she had discovered about him since that night over chicken and canned beers, he still had too much of a soft spot for crying girls.

Sors immanis et inanis….

"Nabiki...?"

His voice seemed to possess an oddly ethereal quality as it floated past on the early Spring evening breeze, almost like that of a ghost. She had to look at his lips to be sure he was even speaking to her.

"Y-yes?"

"That's… that's a lot."

"I know," she agreed with a sad smile. "I'm sorry that I waited for so long. I've never told anyone else these things before, so I don't really know how to talk about things like this. Listening to crazy people isn't most people's cup of tea."

He shook his head at her. "I told ya before. I ain't laughin' at ya, and ya ain't crazy."

She did not understand. Maybe he was trying to be gracious and noble in his usual Ranma way, but this sounded like chintzy bullshit. "You don't have to say things like that to make me feel better. In fact, I'd rather you didn't."

"Dammit!" He became visibly angry and frustrated. She was putting words in his mouth — worse than her sister, Ucchan or Xian Pu even ever were. "For someone so smart, you really are just the dumbest girl sometimes! I ain't sayin' nothin' just for the sake of makin' ya feel better. I don't know how ta do that kinda stuff. Even after everythin' ya said, we still ain't talked about the only two things that actually matter here."

"Are you serious?!"

"Nabiki!"

"Enlighten me."

He looked like he would tear his hair out before he remembered himself and took a calming breath. "Ya ain't ever asked me what I want. Ya ain't told me what ya want either. Not once in all the time that we've been together. "

He was right, she realized. Somehow, despite how stupidly obvious and fundamental these questions were, they had not actually ever talked about these things. Now, however, it was too late. "After everything I just told you, I… I don't think I have the right — "

"Stop it, Nabiki! Just stop! Sometimes, yer just way too damn rational!"

Nabiki tugged uncomfortably against the silk edges of her shawl. A sudden chill seemed to permeate the air around her. Her mother used to say things like that too. Ranma, however, remained far from done with giving her a piece of his mind.

"Ya told me before how much ya like Kandinsky 'coz he was good at distilling things down ta the essence of what actually matters. I know ya know how ta do that too, and yer better at it than anyone else I know. Quit stonewalling with all this shit about right and wrong and whatever else ya think I'm thinkin' about ya and all ya said. All I can think about is you, and nothin' ya told me tonight changes that. I want you, Nabiki — just you!"

Before she realized what was happening, he had folded her tightly in his arms, and his lips were over her mouth, tongue darting furiously between her teeth. She began to feel dizzy as the ground beneath her feet seemed to vanish. The scents of cedar and pinewood filled the air around her, just as they had on Christmas Eve, the day by the canal in Naka-Meguro, in Suginami, and finally that night in the gym when they had first made love. Again, everything exploded feverishly in a fiery blaze of heat and light, and the whole world threatened once more to tilt on its axis.

Nabiki could no longer keep her feelings in check. Unrestrained tears began to spill down her cheeks, which was humiliating, but then she also had nothing left to lose. She could not allow this. She had to get away before all of her remaining resolve to finally do the right thing crumbled. With all the strength she could muster, she reached up and placed her hands against his chest to push herself away and try to spin her smaller body out of his arms.

Of course, he was faster. He caught her wrist in his hand before she could finish slipping away. They both knew that the only reason she even managed to get that far was because she had surprised him.

"Let me go!" she shouted, fighting furiously to rip her wrist out of his grip. She knew it was futile — he was so much stronger — but still!

"Not until ya answer my question and tell me what ya want too! "

"Why should I? You already know everything! Don't make this harder than it has to be!"

"Because I love you, ya idiot! Yer the only one I've ever loved — the strongest, most beautiful, and smartest girl I've ever known. If ya brought me here tonight ta force me ta let go o' the best thing that's ever happened ta me — I'll only fucking do it based on the truth! I love you, Nabiki!"

"Ranma, no! You… you can't! You can't, you can't, you can't!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I can't! No more Naka-Meguros, Suginamis, or shit like last weekend. I can't let myself be vulnerable again. I have nothing to give you, and I can't let you keep saving me from myself. You deserve better than that. I can't risk having someone else to lose either. I can't!"

"That's all wrong!" he hissed, drawing her back in close, and desperately pressing her against himself.

Love was not something that people chose to feel or not feel — it just was — and if she would just shut up for long enough, then he could finally tell her thank you for everything she had given him too. The witty verbal sparring and laughs between them. The expressive freedom she had given him by teaching him how to be an artist and all of the honest feedback and commentary she gave him on his work. The inspiration he found in knowing her to dream bigger and better and the realization that those kinds of dreams mattered. The confidence she had given him to finally believe that he could do more with his life than just go around winning fights as the heir to a little-known school with a funny name most people could not even pronounce correctly.

"Meetin' ya here in Setagaya in front o' the school that day, sharin' fried chicken and shitty canned beers in yer room, finally gettin' to see who ya for who ya really are — those are the best things that ever happened ta me. That's why I promised in Suginami that I wouldn't hurt ya or let ya down if ya would just give us a chance. It's the least I can do. Ya ain't alone, Nabiki, and ya ain't gonna lose me."

Looking at him became impossible, not just because it was dark and she had tears in her eyes, but because she hurt so much inside from just trying to continue holding everything together. Nothing made sense anymore. She was powerless now and so very tired, too tired to even be scared any longer. All that she could manage was to stare with weary, resigned stoicism at the savage tsunami of emotions bearing down on the jagged, crumbling walls of her heart. The storm would strike, and the bomb within her would go nuclear, making the nightmares that had overcome her in Naka-Meguro or even the week before seem like rain squalls with rainbows. Nothing could stop that now.

O Fortuna

Velut luna

Statu variabilis

Semper crescis

Aut decrescis;

Vita detestabilis

Nunc obdurat

Et tunc curat…!

(O Fortune,

like the moon

never constant,

ever waxing,

ever waning,

hateful life

first oppresses

and then soothes

as fancy takes it)

"Tell me what ya want, Nabiki. Tell me that ya don't love me back, that ya don't want ta be with me. Tell me that all those times we fucked didn't mean a damn thing to ya! Tell me all that without lyin' ta my face!"

"Fuck you! You know I can't! I love you too! Don't go!"

"Then tell me what the fuck ya want!"

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Na-chan….

On the morning of Nabiki's fourteenth birthday, her mother came to wake her and told her that she would not have to go to school that day. Instead, they would have a mother-daughter day together, first going to Chiyoda for a special Kandinsky exhibit and then having high tea afterward at one of the better English expat establishments in the neighborhood. Her sisters could meet them after they got out of school at Ueno Park to share sakura mochi and see the cherry blossoms. Perhaps, even her father would join them. That precious day would be one of the best Nabiki ever had with her mother.

Except, of course, none of that ever actually happened. She never had school during her birthday or the hanami season; both always fell in the middle of the end-of-year recess. By the time Nabiki turned fourteen. her mother had been dead for more than a year, and her voice had still not returned. The whole damned thing had just been one cruel, beautiful lie of a dream. In reality, Nabiki had spent her fourteenth birthday in bed crying for the whole day because of that terrible dream.

That same abyss of sadness and disappointment emerged now as she thought of how Ranma had said he loved her even after she had given up all of her secrets. The last train from Setagaya and Ueno had come and gone by then. He had carried her home just as he had that Christmas Eve when they shared chicken and canned beers. She had been so tired, and everything had felt so safe and warm in his arms. As she drifted off to sleep, her final recollection had been the touch of the backs of his fingers against her cheek gently moving to sweep aside a lock of hair that had come over her eyes.

I love you too. Don't go. Don't do what my Mom did to me. Don't let me lose my sister. Don't let me ever lose my voice again….

Except none of that actually happened. She tried desperately, but could not find any evidence to the contrary. It did not matter how vivid the sights, sounds and smells of her recollections had been. A dream was still just a dream.

She had awoken that morning with the sun in her eyes and found herself in her own bed wearing her familiar plain blue cotton pajamas. The irises from the week before stared back at her from the nightstand, most of the stems still reasonably full and vibrant, but with a few showing early signs of wilting around the edges. A few drawing pencils and her sketch pad, so rarely used these days, sat neatly on her desk by the window. Everything looked and felt exactly the way it had the day before. Even the air smelled the same — no hint of cedar or pine anywhere on her body or anything in her room. Her phone showed no new text messages or missed calls from Ranma either.

Frantically, she tore out of bed and began to run around the rest of the flat. It was all silent and empty too. Her friend's door was closed with no evidence of anyone rummaging around inside. The small common area between their rooms also looked untouched, the pillows and cushions of the small blue couch in the center of the room plump and fluffy, the lights off. A small, orderly stack of Kozue's medical school notes sat on the coffee table with her stethoscope neatly folded atop. The kitchen too had no evidence of recent use; the counters were neat and clean with no cups or dishes to be seen, and the sink was dry and barren.

A few pairs of shoes were arranged neatly by the door, mostly Kozue's of course. Among them, there was no evidence of any man's shoes nor of the patent heels Nabiki had worn in her dream to complement the two-piece midi. For that matter, the dress and shawl were nowhere to be found either.

Fighting back tears, Nabiki made her way back to the kitchen and, in resignation, tried to focus on brewing herself a cup of coffee. Maybe she could think better afterwards or even call her sister, which would force her to talk about anything other than Ranma. It would be Sunday night in New York now.

The brew cycle, however, seemed to last forever. The machine's buzz quickly began to grate on her nerves, only amplifying the emptiness she felt, just another bitter reminder of a happiness that had never been. Vivid bits and pieces of her dream continued to intrude on her thoughts.

Because I love you, ya idiot! Yer the only one I've ever loved….

"Dammit!" Nabiki hissed angrily to herself. Her heart ached with longing for the warmth and comfort she had felt with Ranma. He had said, at least in the dream, that she would not lose him or be alone. Yet, that was exactly what she was — alone. Crazy to boot too. Thank God Kozue had gone out and was not here to see her in her current state.

Tell me that ya don't love me back, that ya don't want ta be with me. Tell me that all those times we fucked didn't mean a damn thing to ya! Tell me all that without lying' ta my face…!

Fuck you! You know I can't! I love you too! Don't go!

Don't go….

In the end, she probably should not have bothered. The coffee tasted like shit, even though it was black. Obviously, the beans had been on sale the other day for a reason. She should have done herself right to begin with and gone down the street for a flat white. Not knowing what else to do, Nabiki sank into one of the pair chairs at the dinette, buried her head in her arms on the table, and resigned herself to crying.

Maybe at some point afterwards, she would feel well enough to finally do the right thing and figure out how to end things with Ranma as amiably as possible. That really would be for the best. Even if last night had just been a dream, she could no longer deny to herself that she did love him. All the more reason why she knew he deserved better than a mentally scarred lunatic like her.

Suddenly, Nabiki heard a loud bang against the front door. An embarrassing yelp of surprise escaped her throat as she bolted up in her seat. Her nerves were too frayed for any semblance of dignified composure.

"Oi! Nabiki! Ya up? Can ya help with the door? Kozue and me got our hands full!"

It couldn't be…!

"Oi! Nabiki!"

Her hands were cold and shaking as she shot to her feet, ran to the small genkan, and nearly pulled the door off its hinges. She did not understand or know what to say. In a daze, her mouth hanging open like that of a stupid fish, Nabiki could only watch as Kozue and Ranma shuffled in to kick off their shoes. Their arms full of groceries and other ordinary household necessities.

"Good morning, Heathen!" Kozue chirped brightly over her shoulder as she ambled toward the kitchen. "You sure slept like one last night! We took your dress and the shawl to the cleaners already. That rain last night really did a number on the silk, but they think the thing can be saved. I'll get you a new one if it can't. Your boy here also said that he cooks and that he'd make breakfast, so we brought back some stuff. Sunny side up eggs and toast, okay?

Nabiki's tears started raining down anew, preventing her from forming words or even any real thoughts. The rest of the world faded away, and the floor beneath her feet seemed to vanish once more. She really did not understand, but then maybe it did not matter. All that actually did was that he was here. He had come, and he had not left.

Meetin' ya here in Setagaya in front o' the school that day, sharin' fried chicken and shitty canned beers in yer room, finally gettin' to see who ya for who ya really are — those are the best things that ever happened ta me….

For her too, Nabiki finally realized, For once, something in the world had really gone right!

"Oh, by the way, Nabiki, there's a Kandinsky exhibit goin' at that museum in Chiyoda ya always talk about. Wanna go? Maybe catch the Ueno hanami after?"

Mom…!

Ya ain't crazy, and I ain't laughin' at ya. I shouldn't 'o gotten in yer way….

You… you could never be in my way — never!

"R-Ranma…." Nabiki managed to croak out through her sobs as she threw her arms around him, savoring his warmth, drinking in the reality of his scent — anything and everything she could do to convince herself that this moment truly was real. He tensed up in her arms, confused and at a lost about what to do and nearly dropping the bags in his arms, but that was okay. He was actually really cute when he got flummoxed like that. It was also how she finally knew for sure that he was really there with her in the living present.

I love you too, Baka.

I don't have any more secrets. Not from you. Not anymore. On Taniguchi honor, I promise.

Just don't go.

Don't go….

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