Description: Grievously wounded by Kataki, Mizuki is left on the doorstep of the YFCC to send a 'message' to Frei... who happens to be among the people that discover her. Mizuki proves that she is resilient and wise, while Frei proves that even his eternal cheerfulness can be cracked... ("The Moon's Three Teasures", Interlude)
A bright, sunny morning.
It's on loan from spring, or so the story will go in coffee shops and around water coolers later in the day. Unusually warm, all traces of snow and slush briefly gone from the city's streets. Unusual in and of itself, but the surprise is pleasant, comforting; there is hope for renewal on the horizon. Warmer, gentler days are ahead. It's the kind of day where you can really feel good about being alive. If you're Frei Renard, it's the type of day you love the most. It brings out the best in people, in his opinion. The scent of it in the wind might be what got him up early that morning, what made him swing his keys on his finger and whistle a tune as he walked to work. A good day on the rise.
He showed up at the YFCC doors just as Maya the administrative assistant and a crowd of volunteers were bringing Mizuki inside.
For a moment, Maya's eyes go to Frei, who while not exactly 'in charge' has the benefit of minor authority when it comes to moments of desperation or confusion. She was LOOKING for some sort of hint of help. Should an ambulance be called? Should she even be moved? What's the protocol, what's the plan?
She quickly gave up on it when the normally bright, emerald-green eyes stared back at her with the glassy, pupil-less glaze of fear washing through them... a situation made all the scarier for its rarity. Something's not right in this situation.
Thus Mizuki was hurried inside, and attended to by the staff who did the best they could: they cleaned out and disinfected wounds, they removed bloody and torn clothes and wrapped bandages, they gave Mizuki something to wear in the meantime to protect her modesty, and they quietly shuffled everyone else in the room out and then they waited. Patiently. Maya was sure of it; she knew he'd walk in the door eventually. Somehow, she knew.
And eventually it does happen, the monk's relatively short form appearing in the door frame, looking for one of the volunteers watching her. He mouths, 'is she...' and then stops. The word he was GOING to use was 'alive' and it dies on his lips; he's not going to ask someone for a second-hand account, he's not going to be told she *died* by someone else. He's going to find out for himself.
He stands next to the bed, cheerful face unreadable.
"Mizuki..." he says, as loudly as he dares. It echoes in the empty room like a gunshot even at low volume. "Please... please be okay."
Dead? Mizuki? Of course she isn't dead. Even if she looks like she -should- be. Vital signs were faint but regular, the wounds surprisingly not life-threatening -despite- their mess... wounds designed to injure, not kill. Cruel wounds, inflicted by a cruel man. No, the damage to her body will heal; her own natural abilities will guarantee that, as surely as the sun will rise again to clear the cold night sky with its warm light.
Whether she'll recover from the damage to her mind and body, that's entirely different. Despite the vitals she's been out cold--and yet, her body fidgeting, twitching, as if caught in the throes of some half-remembered nightmare, her muscles tense, skin slick with nervous sweat. It isn't a reaction normally associated with injuries of her type. Poison, perhaps... and in truth. But a poison of the most subtle and devious kind.
Suddenly she bolts upright, eyes wide, mouth open in a wordless, soundless scream. Those eyes are blank, the lively, warm light in them dimmed heavily. Slowly, slowly, she comes back to her senses; her eyes focus, she looks around.
"Wh... where..." she croaks, realizing, suddenly, that her body is a mass of fiery-cold pain, sharp like the blade that caused the wounds.
"Where... am I...?" Suddenly, she remembers, a name spoken by a man in a hat... "Frei! Where---" And then she sees him, and her body sags, collapsing in on itself.
For a second, all Frei can do is slump forward, gripping the edge of the bed Mizuki's lying on to keep himself upright, fingers digging in so hard it looks for a second like he's going to grip *right through the metal*. Dark auburn bangs fall into his eyes, headband notwithstanding, and eventually all he can say is, in a quiet voice, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
He doesn't have to ask who did it. He's not stupid; far from it, in this case. Every strike precise, calculated for maximum pain and damage but you'll notice, not striking anything vital. Clearly made with a sharp, clean blade. If that isn't Musou Tenkei's style in action then he will eat his shoe, and since there are only three living, active practitioners, the list of potential suspects is very short.
Eventually, he pulls himself upright, not wanting to touch Mizuki, afraid he's just going to make things worse... as if *his own* touch has suddenly become acidic. There's a moment of great uncertainty on his part, before he just crosses his arms over his chest and leaves them there. "You're at the center. How are you feeling? Try not to... try not to move too much."
"Why... why are you sorry?" she asks, sounding as reproving as possible with her body the way it is. She grimaces, faintly. "I... I won't be moving much for a while..."
"... Frei-san... who..." Clearly he knows who did this to her--of course, she never got a name but that's all too common. Briefly, she smiles, ruefully.
"It seems like we have more in common than I thought... but it looks like your family line turns out a better class of warrior..." Oh, he asked a question.
"... I feel... in pain. He... he wasn't trying to kill me... he wanted to hurt me... he said it was a 'gift'... to you." Her brow furrows. "He did something... he was... I felt like I was losing myself... to his words."
Despite the admonition to not move, she pulls her knees up, hugging them. "He's trying to draw you out..."
"Why am I sorry?!" The shout makes it out of Frei's mouth absolutely unbidden, from some unstoppable emotional place. To his credit, at least, he is slapping both hands over his mouth the second he says it, getting looks that are 50% concern and 50% annoyance from the volunteers who enforce that 'inside voice' policy. But that single shout says more than any actual, sustained verbal resposnse ever could. He KNOWS whose fault it is. Kataki had the sword in hand, yes, but he was... an instrument. The real fault lies with the person who made it necessary, or desirable, or worth doing. In Frei's eyes, his brother was walking a path the monk set out for him. Logical? No... but as Mizuki herself must well know, logic rarely seems to apply in these matters.
"No, he's not..." Frei whispers, eyes hooded. "Drawing me out is easy. Hell, he's BEEN here already! He walked right in the front door. But you're right that we have something in common... he's trying to prove something. I don't know what... probably that I'm a disappointment to the Tsukitomi line." There's a moment where Frei's face actually pulls into a bitter, sneer-line sort of expression... one you might more expect to find on Kataki's face than on Frei's. "I don't know why he's making the effort, though. Everyone KNOWS that fact. Maybe he just wants me to admit it."
He's silent, then, for a moment, before he walks across the room and picks up a chair, walking back and setting it next to Mizuki's bed and slumping into it bonelessly, staring vacantly at the wall for a moment. "Mizuki, I..." His voice catches, and then he simply gives up; the first tears make wet streaks down his cheeks. It's the first time he's cried in... a very long time. The last time was when his father had died, when he was a *boy*... and he promised himself he'd never feel like that again. That there would always be SOMETHING he could latch onto, some joy, some silver lining. Not like his mother, who bore it with grim stoicism. Who shut herself off... who started the rift, in his opinion.
He can't help it.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry you suffered so much because of me."
"Then.. he's trying to draw something out of you..." She pauses, gently levering herself to a leaning position at the head of her bed, breathing out a heavy sigh as she relaxes a little. "Or... he's just that way... but that isn't YOUR fault... Frei-san. You know... what I've been through. With Kimi. You met her. Would you blame me... for those she hurt?" Echoes of Kataki's words to her...
"He wants you... to feel guilty... to be hurt... because of this. He knows that our bond... will make it happen." Painfully, she lifts a hand, touching her bandaged torso, with the lightest of touches.
"He knew... how to hurt my confidence. What to say to make me hesitate." She frowns, deeply. "I... I feel as if I lost more than the fight. That I..." She sighs.
"That I've disappointed you, and Alma-kun, and Hotaru-san. That I'm not... going to fulfill my dreams."
"But if I don't.. that isn't your fault, any more than what he did to me was your fault."
Frei shakes his head, not able to look up for the moment. "When Kimi attacked me it didn't have anything to do with you. Did I ever tell you that? It was because she wanted to see the Tsukitomi family sword style in action. Apparently the Kurogami clan knew about it, and she was... disappointed to find out I never learned it." He's silent after that for a moment, and then he finally looks up to meet Mizuki's gaze. "I know what you're trying to say, that it's his 'fault' and not mine, but... did you really feel that way about Kimi? You know we don't blame you, but I know a part of you is always going to blame yourself, just like you said. Because we're friends."
As for the rest, Frei shakes his head ruefully. "You know that's not true, either. You've never disappointed any of us. Much to the contrary... you've saved peoples' lives, remember? Alma might have died if it weren't for you." The unspoken rider here, of course, is that all Frei tends to bring to the table are bad jokes and... what? Murderous family members out for blood with a smile? "Whatever he said, he said because he knew it would hurt you. The 'truth' of it... who can ever tell? Truth is something that we build from watching the world, not because it's etched in stone somewhere. But... can you see that's why I don't know how to FIGHT him? Or maybe why I *can't*... I can't without becoming a hypocrite. Without giving in."
"I... I don't know." She shakes her head, in turn. "Kimi may have wanted to see the Tsukitomi family sword style, but I'm sure she wanted to hurt me, too. She... I don't know how long she watched me... but she knew who my friends were... she attacked Kentou just to send a message to me..."
"Just as your brother... did to me. Frei-san. You -know- yourself. You are the only person who can decide what is right for you. If you don't want to face your brother alone... then you don't -have- to."
Quietly, she admits, "He's scary. I wouldn't ever want to face him again... But if you need support, you know... just like you were here for me, we will be here for you." She reaches out, resting her hand lightly on Frei's shoulder.
"I can't tell you what you should do.. but I believe that your brother must be stopped... I'm... i'm alright with being attacked. But what if he goes after the students...?"
It's as if Mizuki somehow said the magics words in conjunction with each other to deepen Frei's horror, and in fact, she did. The first is 'Kentou', and the monk recalls all too well how the young student fighter and his brother reacted to each other when Kataki interrupted their last lesson, which is to say, not well at all. The second is 'what if he goes after the students?', which... given Frei's good natured sort of personality, had not occurred to him. He wouldn't, would he?
But what if he did?
Green eyes again widen until they're almost all pupil, as if someone had just rammed an icicle into the base of his spine. "He... he wouldn't," Frei says at last, and it's obvious he's trying to convince himself as much as respond to Mizuki. More to the point, it's like he's working it out here on the spot. Not rationalizing, per se, though Mizuki might notice that's part of it... but more that he hadn't given it all of his thought before and it just now doing so. "He might be like mo... he might be cruel, but deep in his heart he's still my brother, and he still comes from the same parents. You..." For a second, Frei pauses and wipes his sleeve across his eyes. "You could defend yourself. He knew it. And it doesn't excuse what he did to, it never would... but I don't think he would bother hurting people who can't fight back." Because of compassion? Or because they're not sporting? Frei's not telling, either... but it doesn't look like he's sure.
And then there's Kentou. That... situation's going to need resolving.
Slumping in his chair, Frei's head tips all the way back to stare, glassy-eyed, at the ceiling, the tails of his headband dusting the floor. "I can't fight him. Mizuki, I'm sorry... people are going to go on getting hurt because of me. But I can't fight him yet! It's not..." He pauses, then he sits up and looks at his injured friend with an almost pleading expression. "Fighting Kimi, you weren't just fighting a person, right? I know that. But for me it's the same, and Kataki... he represents something big. Something really big I can't touch yet."
"I--I don't know. He... he felt different from Kimi..." No, she doesn't have psionic power; she doesn't read auras. But.. this is her experience, talking. Her experiences with Kimi, her experiences with that specter of the 'other'. Immediately, though, she reaches out, putting a hand on Frei's shoulder. She saw that horror... she understands it.
"This -isn't your fault-, Frei-san. Don't ever forget that. No matter what you did or who you are, you are not forcing him to go after people like this... this is something he is doing, either of his own free will or because he has been compelled to... maybe both."
So like Kimi, and yet so different. Kimi had that odd, teasing style to her... in a way, more cruel than Kataki, because she hid under that veneer of cute. Kataki is more surgical but... more 'honest' as well.
"You're right, of course. Fighting Kimi wasn't just fighting a rival. There is a weight of years... decades... of past wrongs and past snubs... it was a heavy battle to undertake. I had to... I had to reach deep, to find the courage to face her when I really didn't want to. It was hard."
"I told you, no one is forcing you... no one can. I'm sure, sometime, your brother will antagonize the wrong person. But I -am- telling you... this is something you need closure on..."
"I know that!" The words leave his mouth before he can think about them, and the sharpness of his voice appears to surprise even Frei, who claps a hand over his mouth for a moment and then hangs his head. "I know that. Before he even showed up I knew... I knew something was going to happen. Call it a hunch, or gut instinct, or maybe... ha, maybe it was just understanding karma pretty well." He was overdue, wasn't he? You can only go on running from something so long before it catches up. Especially when what's chasing you never tires, never stops, because it's *you*, and is always running as fast as you are...
There's a scraping sound as Frei gets up, the chair moving across the floor, and he shuts his eyes, putting one hand over Mizuki's. "He's already antagonized the wrong people by hurting you. Don't you know that? But..." And here his eyes open, and perhaps for the first time since this conversation started he feels a little bit of peace. Not a lot; worry still creases the boyish face, fear still haunts the corners of his eyes. But he is able, at last, to smile. "If it were as simple as just beating him up, though, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'd stomp out there and clock him one and that'd be that. Or he'd slice me in half, and *that* would be *that*."
Taking a deep breath in, Frei shakes his head. "You guys might need to go on doing the violence thing for a while, though. I can't do anything about that just yet. And it IS my fault, in some way or another. But..." And here, he pauses a second before continuing. "I don't know how to 'fight' him yet. I don't know how to overcome what he represents. Not yet. It's going to take some time, and it's going to require more than just fighting..."
She doesn't flinch; in fact those blue eyes are sadly understanding. Fighting your destiny... it's a big thing. Frei's situation has far more weight on it than Mizuki's did; she was rebelling only against a small part of what was her fate, rather than the whole thing, kit and caboodle.
"Maybe he has. I... I don't think he'll come for me again. I hope not. But I think if he does, I'll be able to face him with the same courage as I try to face every challenge I've had thrown at me. I..." She turns, and wraps Frei into a hug. He needs one, she thinks.
"I know it's never as simple as 'beating someone up'. I honestly think he won't stop until he can face you... for whatever reasons he has. Maybe all you need to do is talk to your mother. Maybe... you really do need to face him down. I don't know... this situation is both the same and so different from mine... but I'll support you in whatever you need. As will all of us, I'm sure." She's confident in that, at least. Hotaru, Jiro, Kentou, Alma... they're all Frei's friends, and they all know what that means... from the mundane to the extreme.
Log created on 14:16:29 01/30/2008 by Frei, and last modified on 17:13:43 02/03/2008.