Description: A happenchance meeting at the most proper of places and critical of times allows Hotaru and Frei to discuss the events that have shaped their lives for the last few months. While she wishes she could make it all go away, it is, with some effort on the part of the monk, that she comes to realize that there may possibly be good points to be taken from it all.
How long has it been since this person has been in this spot? Has it been days, even weeks? As far as Frei is concerned, climbing the concrete steps up the hill, it was an entire lifetime ago. How much has happened since then? Violence, hurtful things. Fights and attacks, harsh words, interrupted meetings, confrontations. Yet the church yard retains the same degree of peace and stillness it did at that fateful meeting long ago. If anything, its sense of peace is greater for the coming of spring; the return of greenery, the songs of birds. More the noisier for it, perhaps, but they're sounds of life returning, natural things that 'belong'. In that sense, its purpose as a place of reflection and quietude remains.
Sort of.
His steps are heavy as they echo, and Frei even looks different. Wooden sandals are replaced with a pair of grey sneakers; the flowing qipao shirt replaced by a silk button-down of a rich hunter green slightly darker than the bright emerald green of his eyes. The slight breeze would normally flutter the tails of his signature headband, but now it's not in evidence; instead his dark red bangs are slightly lower than before for the lack of it, parted so that in the middle of his right temple is the scar he got putting what he knew into practice in the riskiest decision he's made in a long, long time.
Eventually he reaches the top and stands, hands in his pockets. There's a lot to observe, and not all of it is in physical evidence. Hotaru stood here, practicing; her earnest words about his brother's intentions play through his memory, tinged with her sudden fierce need to prove herself, and the flashing red blaze of an energy that wasn't her own, something alien and consuming. How he tried his hardest to make something useful of it and, to his eyes, his ultimate failure. Kentou helping carry him down from here from...
His head turns.
With purposeful steps, he moves to the side of the barely-used church, and blinks in surprise. The damage wasn't that terrible; after all, a building of this age is more than just plywood and nails. But the wooden siding... the rough shape of a human being's body where it was cracked and shredded is undeniable. His fingers come up, brushing against the brick underneath, and for a moment his eyes close, thinking back to what's happened, and more importantly, what's happened since.
The walled off sanctuary has never seen a lot of people present at once. Usually just one guest, or two visitors from time to time, or the very rare case of three showing up at the same time. The last time there were three had a violent conclusion. A girl, driven by half-truths mingled with a dangerous level of paranoia; a well meaning young man caught up in the turmoil wrought by his brother; and a startled, confused boy, a student to both, witness to the conclusion of the fight that never should have been.
All three would meet again afterward, but not at once. The boy and the monk furthering the child's training, opening his eyes to the power of the world around him, teaching him that mos important next step to being able to draw chi into his own fights now. The girl and the monk, colliding at a SNF, both of them furious at each other until their tempers waned. And the girl and the boy in ongoing Kenpo training, where Hotaru both mastered and swore off the technique that had brought so much ruin to her life, body, friends, and reputation. Of those three, two meet again now.
The property is somewhat maintained even though its caretaker had taken quite a leave of absense. Jiro had filled in some of the time, as others might have as well. Only just recently had Hotaru returned herself to begin the long process of trimming back the hedges in preparation for the coming Spring growth. Having withdrawn from all the fighting circuits seemingly all of the sudden, she has had ample time on her hands to get back to caring for the property. The grass is trimmed, the flower garden weeded. The heavy front door of the building opens then closes around the corner from where Frei observes the reminder of the last fight that took place on these grounds.
Stepping out of the structure, Hotaru has a dirty white towel draped over her shoulder. The knees of her white pants are also dusty brown, suggesting she's been doing some cleaning within this afternoon. The beribboned twintails are present once again in the girl's hair, a reminder of the person she had been before. Some had mentioned even preferring her hair down over her shoulders, but for now, she would just rather do anything possible to get people to see the girl she was before. She has a long way to go for that, though, in her mind. But every little bit helps.
A deep inhale of the fresh April air, followed by a slow exhale. A glance around the yard at the life present therein brings a somber look to the girl's face. It's been forever since she's felt the grip of a bird's talons on her finger or enjoyed the feathered across of a wing across her face. Even still, the animals shy away from the girl. They know, she's decided. They know what she became. A literal monster that lashed out at anything and everyone, regardless of her connections to them. A glance down the walkway toward the street and for a fleeting moment she can see Kentou as he walked in on her final strike against Frei. The abject shock on his face, the palor of his complexion. /She/ caused that. She did that. The girl squints, shaking her head, dismissing the recollection. Mizuki said she had to move forward if she was going to get past this... and reminiscing the worst things she's ever done in her life isn't going to help too much there.
Frei gets a split second to observe all this without Hotaru's notice, and it's not a very long time, but it IS something. The physical changes are evident -- particularly the hair, and Frei's own recently unadorned head is testament enough to what *he* thinks about the relationship between inner and outer gazes and a person's state of mind. The towel says cleaning; the knees say hard work, done on the ground, getting dirty. Though a proponent of the 'work smarter, not harder; also have Merry Maids on speed dial' school of thought, the monk understands the need to do *something* with your body when you've got a lot on your mind. Four filing cabinets' worth of documents, an entire staff office, and about four million plates of cookies over the past months at the YFCC have been a testament to that, too. So to him, the idea that Hotaru's been at work here is an encouraging one.
But also in that split second, Frei has to decide what to say to get her attention, what to do, how to open that dialogue back up. Just a week ago he did that very thing with someone quite different from Hotaru, but a person with whom the gap to be crossed was... wider, to say the least. But somehow he crossed it, and while their relationship is not 100% repaired, Frei finally felt like he could speak to his mother without descending into nameless fury... the same nameless fury that he had at Hotaru, a need to hurt her that evinced in jumping into her SNF. And thus the question opens up. Ask how she is? Apologize for attacking her in a thoughtless rage? Demand to know what's going on? How could he possibly say everything he wants in a single sentence?
He needs to set the tone. That much he knows.
"You know," he says conversationally, turning so that his back is facing the wall, the yet-to-be-repaired damage framing him as he stands away from it, "I really should have guessed that the one time I actually find it in myself to come up here again, you'd be here." A hopeless smile crosses his face. "I guess that's just how these stories go."
His voice what clues Hotaru in that she has company. Even though it comes as a complete suprise to her, she doesn't jump with surprise, but rather, with her side toward Frei, closes her eyes. She had inquired as to his whereabouts at the YFCC when she visited with Mizuki last. Not in town came the answer, and she had left it at that. In truth it came as a relief that the monk couldn't be found at the moment. Roberto, Mizuki, Zach... each encounter had been straining in its own way. And while she could tell she had found forgiveness from the miko, and Zach's easy going support didn't seem to wane in spite what had transpired, she suspected things may never be the same between her and Taiyo's star soccer player.
Each new encounter was like that. Approached with trepidition, though she tried to make the best of it, and then the results would be what they would be and that was that. But a lot of the challenge was the approach, rehearsing what to say, over and over in her head. The apologies, the acceptance of responsability and leaving herself open to their judgements. That is how it is, isn't it though. This encounter comes when she least expects it. No chance to prepare what to say, no lines she's ready to rattle off the instant Frei speaks up.
Slowly the girl turns, eyes opening as she comes to face Frei. It's a good thing she heard his voice first because the initial sight leaves her a bit surprised. He's changed. Then again... lately, who hasn't? "Frei," the surprised girl replies quite simply, clearly at a loss of words this time. Blue eyes skim over the indentation in the wall before flicking back to him. "I guess it is fitting. This is where it happened." she continues after a moment. "But I believe in the TV specials, the characters have a commercial break in which to figure out what to say after surprises like this." she finishes, her smile faint, brief, before it fades away.
Her hands reach up to the towel over her shoulder, drawing it down, rubbing her fingers a bit cleaner even though at a glance at her hands reveals not so much as a speck of dirt on them in the first place. "Don't worry, I'm not going to attack," she adds after a moment, a flicker of an awkward expression making its way into her features. Caught by surprise, she lacks the blue jacket she's worn of late, leaving the white wrappings on her right arm plainly visible now that she's facing him. "I got my rabies shot finally." The towel gets flung back up over her shoulder, the girl moving her arms behind her back after a moment.
That Frei's eyes should glance at the white wrap for a moment is inevitable, but perhaps to Hotaru's relief he doesn't seem to have any commentary on it. Instead he laughs with that same sense of hopeless amusement that colored his smile a few moments ago. A hand comes up, brushing his bangs from his face, but unlike Hotaru's response his head turns to the side rather than glance right at her, expression flickering between amused and contemplative. It's a lot to deal with, as Hotaru said. Where to start? Or perhaps, he thinks to himself, where to end? What was the point in coming here? "I think in the long run, our lives would make for pretty boring TV," he finally says, turning back with a grin, meeting her gaze this time.
For a second, nothing gets said, but just as suddenly Frei shakes his head in disagreement with some silent statement, and then he brings his face up, eyes clear with purpose, expression even with having come to terms with things. "And I'm not here to hurl you into a building, either, though I don't know I got *my* 'rabies shot'." Quite the contrary in a way, he muses, thinking of his parting shot to his mother. He came back to Southtown for a reason, but there's things to settle first. Things to find out.
"Before anyone says anything else," Frei continues, voice even, "I'm sorry you got caught up in my family trouble. I..." He stops. Does he want to tell her about his visit? Does he want to even bring it up, make it a play for understanding or sympathy? Something... again he shakes his head, giving physical form to his inner dialogue. "I didn't know everything about the situation at first. I still don't. But I know a lot more now than I did before, and I think I know why what happened, happened. It's not fair, it's not right. And I'm going to do something about it."
"I'm pretty sure they trim it all down to just the exciting few minutes for broadcast purposes," Hotaru replies, a hint of amusement at his reply regarding the excitement of their lives. Boring TV some of the time, perhaps, but there are those moments... for better or for worse. It seems she isn't the only one struggling with what to say as Frei appears to go through deciding for or against speaking various options before settling on what he /does/ state. There's a little bit of comfort to be found in that. While she whole heartedly believes herself to have been at fault for getting things started, they both said things they probably wish they hadn't in the sum total of events.
He apologizes for his family first, beating her to the punch, though that isn't surprising given her being caught surprised. Family trouble, that's putting it mildly. "It wasn't your fault," she insists. It's not like he asked Kataki to come pay her a visit that fateful afternoon. Or asked his younger brother to ruin her life. "I wish I could say I knew," she replies, "The reason behind it all." Her right foot shuffles against the ground a little, the girl keeping her hands behind her back.
"But that doesn't excuse what happened. I can't blame it all on your brother. I wish I could. I'm sorry, for what I did, what I said. In the end, I was doing those things. Maybe I wouldn't have had he never..." her voice fades out, her tone more tense now that she has brought up Kataki herself. "... but if I wasn't so weak to it... If I hadn't been so afraid, he never would have been able to affect me so. So in the end... Frei, I'm sorry," she finishes, her voice diminishing in volume.
"I'm horrified at what I did, but that doesn't make it all go away. If there were something I could do to erase the last three months, I would. But they happened, and... well..." She shrugs at that point, looking like she wishes she could say more but not really having the words ready. No speach to recite, rehearsed over and over in her memory. Just quiet, honest words, spoken as they come to mind. "I... imagined that was why you were gone. I'm glad you're back though. Something does need to be done..."
"If you could do something to erase the last three months," Frei echoes, eyes heavy-lidded for a moment, "then what would have been the point in them happening?"
It's a strange statement, and there isn't necessarily any joy in Frei's expression. He doesn't take any pleasure in saying it, but he had expected Hotaru to respond thusly, and in his mind he's been rehearsing what he was going to say. Faced with the actual situation, he finds that only that single line -- buried in the middle of his mental script, to keep the TV metaphor going, a line cut in half by interstitials -- remains. However, he doesn't appear sad, or angry. If his expression could be called anything, it would be 'determined': the jaw set, the eyes coming open again at the end, the body carriage high and suspended.
There's a pause while Frei shuts his eyes and exhales a long breath, before opening his eyes again slowly and gathering himself, tying it together. He had come here to think it over and there Hotaru is, unexpected-yet-expected, and the fallout of his mental model shattering around him by reality makes his movements stilted despite his confident demeanor. "I can't speak for anyone else, and I don't know how far everything went. But I don't want the last three months to go away, just because I got hurt, or had to face something unpleasant." He pauses again, and then at last a smile... somewhat weary, but genuine... makes its way across his expression. "I know you're sorry for hurting me, just like I'm sorry for hurting you. I know that, I appreciate you saying it, and it's important, but..."
Shaking his head, Frei's expression turns troubled for a moment, gaze looking off to the side and down toward the ground. "Not everything that came out of it was good. But some of it was. I think if you get wrapped up in regret, in wishing it had never happened, then you deny yourself the opportunity to... to get from it something positive."
Point in them happening? She may not have been startled when he first broke the silence to announce his presence, but at those words the girl clearly looks... well... surprised. As if they needed a point? Did hurting her friends, tarnishing her name... did any of that have a point beyond simply making herself miserable? Her jaw tightens, the girl's eyes becoming a little fiery, the meek, apologetic look gone for now. He speaks of not knowing how far things went and her mouth tightens.
He speaks of maybe some of the outcome being good even if bad things did happen. He speaks of something positive to be gained from it all, and in that moment the girl finally snaps, bringing her hands from behind her back, raising them up in front of her, palms up as if supporting some kind of weight, "I almost killed Kentou, Frei." the girl blurts out at last. "I don't even know how he can bear to look at me let alone learn from me anymore. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror for the last few months. I still..."
Her eyes narrow, the girl looking to the side, her voice trembling slightly, "...I still can barely stand to look at myself. Every morning, I wake up, wishing the last few months were just a horrible nightmare, a bad dream and nothing more. But then I remember it all, and I know that it wasn't." Tears well in the inner corners of her eyes as she closes them, exhaling softly. "I might not ever fight again, if I can't control myself... keep myself from using that horrible technique again..." The girl shakes her head, left arm coming up to wipe across her eyes, streaking her tears a little.
"I'm sorry," the girl mumbles, some of the vigor gone from her voice. "I- I-... I really do wish none of it had ever happened." She takes the towel from off her shoulder and wipes at her eyes a second time, drying the rest of the small tears. "I shouldn't be taking it out on you."
By and large, Frei is not a physical person; he tends to show his affection in momentary, heartfelt expressions of joy: laughter, smiles, jokes. In his mind, their usefulness is their ephemerality; reminded of the transience of joy, its appreciation becomes all the better. But there are times when the relationship between bodies in space, the line and curve described by the placement of people, has an emotional impact. And so, he risks it, and steps forward so that he's close enough to Hotaru to reach out and try to take her left arm as she brings it down from her face. She might allow it, she might not... if she does, however, he brings her hand up and holds up the very palms she just held out; if not, he's content to simply point, for a second, at her hand. "Doing that would mean all the good this hand has ever done would disappear too." If Hotaru's hand is still in his by then, he slowly lets go.
"You can take it out on me if you want," he says simply, quietly, hoping that the suddenly shorter space between them will carry the intensity in his voice that he needs to have rather than raising his voice. "I can take it. And believe me, I know why you want all this to disappear, I really do. That was my whole life for the past seven years! I wanted a past I wasn't happy with to just vanish, because I didn't think it would produce anything good." He pauses, shutting his eyes a second and taking a breath in. Just because he reached an accord with his mother doesn't mean that seeing her didn't leave some flesh open and raw, blazing with pain when the wind whistles over it. "Maybe three months ago, I'd have said the same thing. If I could make the past vanish, I'd just... just do it."
His arms hanging limply at his sides, Frei's head turns up, looking at the sky, a sudden breeze making the unruly red hair swirl about his face for just a moment. "I was able to say I didn't want the past to matter because I thought I had nothing to lose," he adds at last, voice quiet. His head slumps back down, and now it's his turn to look to the side. "Friendships, yes, but I felt like my friends would recover. I spend most of my day following my whims, studying, learning... but not FOR anything. Just to do it. If I was gone, what would it matter?" Turning back, he meets Hotaru's gaze. "If the last three months never happened, Kentou's training in chi wouldn't be anywhere near where it was. I would have gone on thinking my mother thought of me as a failure. I'd have never started to understand how to use my anger... I'd have thought my fighting style, my philosophy, were only to amuse myself, were never of use to anyone. And all of that, in some way, comes back to events you wish had never happened."
When he steps forward, she doesn't draw back. The times of hostility between them are gone, there's nothing for her to be wary of now. She is also not resistant to him taking hold of her arm as she lowers it from her face, blue eyes glancing at the palm of her hand. A little upset, but not so much that she isn't willing to hear Frei out in his entirety. Slowly she lowers her hand as he releases it, eyes on the ground for a moment before finally glancing up into Frei's face, the young man abnormally up close now but she doesn't seem to mind.
He invites her to lash out and take all of her misery out on him if it will help, but she remains quiet, listening to him intently. His perspective on events is certainly different from hers. For she thinks only of how everything affected her but he speaks of larger issues. Kentou's progress, Frei's attempt at reconciliation with his mother... The things he learned about his style, his fighting, his outlooks and philosophies...
He gazes at the sky and she looks up in turn before glancing back toward him, her jaw becoming less set, the vigor in her eyes calming gradually. "Perhaps," comes the terse acknowledgement, willing to acknowledge that there's more to the last three months than her own personal tradegy. "I just..." she continues, her voice trailing off. "The things I did - and said - I... wish I could just forget them but I don't think I will. I know... I know some of my friends will forgive me... but the cost of..."
The girl shakes her head, giving Frei an apologetic smile in the end. "I'm not sure if I understand fully. I'm sure I'd rather redo the last three months without being so hostile. But knowing I can't, I'll... well. I'm doing what I can to get by. Kentou, he... in spite it all, he still wants me to teach him. Stubborn kid. But I can't do that unless I know for certain I will never come close to acting like that again."
"Because he believes in you," Frei says quietly in response. "That's what kept him going the whole time. Not... not wanting you to change, but believing that the 'real you' would work through things somehow. He wants you to teach him because you proved him right." It's a guess, but for all his strange thoughts, Frei usually trusts his intuition when it comes to people. For a moment it looks like he wants to move, his entire body; arms swing, legs reposition, head turns. However, rather than following the line of any of those movements to their conclusion he puts his back to the wall and then slides down, sitting on the grass. He lets one hand drift into the green, fingers moving through blades of grass as if he were pushing a hand through someone's hair.
"For someone who tries to be open to new possibilities," he says evenly, eyes following the motions of his hand, light dulled somewhat, "I tell people how to be an awful lot. I didn't... you were trying to work it through and I just waltzed in and made the pronouncment." There's a follow of mirthless laughter as he realizes what an Isis-like way of doing things that is; in fact, since leaving Kyoto, that's been almost like a game for Frei... seeing anew all of the things he does that he would never have noticed were like his mother in behavior, out of a desire to push her from his mind.
However, his face turns up to look at the still-standing Hotaru, and despite his self-recrimination, he looks... calm, if not serene. "It's easy to do, when you didn't have to live all of the details. I know there's so much about what happened to you I don't know. But please believe that what I'm saying isn't coming out of nowhere. The bad things that happened will always be with you, but the part of them that stays is the part that reminds you why they shouldn't happen again. Don't... don't let the idea that you might have almost killed Kentou erase the fact that you didn't."
He lets that hang in the air for a moment, and then closes his eyes, leaning back against the wall. He plucks a blade of grass and then picks it up, studying it intently for a moment. The act is clearly nervous energy being burned off; filling the void with something while he works out what he wants to say. "Mom isn't going to let Kataki succeed the school," he says at last, dropping the statement into the silence. "Worse than that, she must have said... something, that would make him think she was considering asking me to do it instead. The idea that she would pass over the perfect son for the job, the one who's most like her, in favor of the oldest, the runaway who abandoned everybody..." His eyes fall a bit. "I doubt he took it well."
As Frei speaks of why Kentou still believes in her, Hotaru falls quiet, the faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth suggesting that he's touching upon the same conclusions that she's drawn upon reflecting on his determination over the last couple weeks. She shuffles her feet a little, but opts to remain standing for the time being, merely watching the scholar shift through the topics that come to his mind, one after another. Slowly she lowers her right arm to hang against her side, her left hand reaching over her stomach to grip at her right wrist as she bows her head in thought.
"It's a perspective I'll have to think on for a while," the girl remarks after a moment, sounding neither as if she is outright rejecting his encouragement that she use the events of the last few months as a reminder of what she should never let happen again, nor quite accepting that angle so easily. It's a tough pill to swallow, the encouragement to use the most harrowing few months of her life as a learning experience - to try and focus on the good that came out of what she can only see as the worst events of her life. Perhaps with time she might come to think otherwise, she ponders, open to the idea that Frei knows what he's talking. "I guess in the end it doesn't matter... I can't make what happened go away," she admits after a moment. "So being able to find some kind of good outcome is probably the healthiest approach," she allows, albeit a little reluctantly.
She almost killed her student, but in the end she didn't, stopping herself just in time. It took reaching that horrifying moment to break what Kataki had done to her... If only some other way had presented itself first. Something a bit less... mentally scarring. Speaking of Kataki, Frei begins to let her in on what might have set the young man off on trying to make Frei's life miserable, even it meant attacking his friends to get there. Slowly Hotaru seats herself opposite of Frei, sliding the towel off her should to place beneath her to avoid green stains on white clothes perhaps.
"What are you going to do?" she asks, getting to the point after being given some insight as to his younger brother's antics. "Is your mom still... I mean... the school... what is going to happen?" The questions come haltingly as she can't think of solutions herself. He said he was going to do something about what had happened, however. But what would that be?
Caught up in describing the actual facts of the situation, surprisingly enough Frei's demeanor becomes breezy and the words come quickly to him. After all, there's not much to think about when it comes to laying out empirical observation. It either happened or it didn't, Jean Baudrillard be damned. He gives a simple shrug, putting both hands up in the air, palms facing back toward him, in a what-can-you-do sort of gesture of helpless resignation. "I don't know. She won't hand it over to Kataki, period... not because he's bad at what he does, but... well, you can probably guess why." Even glib Frei can't be brought to say 'because he's a raging jerk' just yet, but the weight of such a statement is easy to read from the words that, pointedly, aren't said. "He has a twin, you know... my other brother Threnody. But Thren's studying abroad in America right now, for one... and for two, I don't think he wants to be a fighter. That only leaves me, and I... she didn't exactly offer, and I didn't ask. Maybe someday in the future."
Of course, the more immediate question was at the *beginning* of Hotaru's sentence rather than the end, and it says something about the complexity of the answer that Frei answers the easy part first. His expression becomes less readable, more clouded as he thinks it over, because he has some conclusions... but nothing definite. So much, after all, depends on Kataki's response. "I have to confront him. Not because fighting him is going to change his mind, but because he's already set the terms of the matter. You know? If he was interested in talking, he'd have done that. If he just wanted to beat me in a fight, he'd have done that too. But he didn't do either. He threatened and hurt and endangered the people close to me to make his point: that I'm weak, and that weakness attracts weakness."
But does it? He doesn't say the thought aloud, but for a moment Frei lets his emerald-eyed gaze bore into Hotaru questioningly. Are the people Kataki attacked weak, and weaker so for their relationship with Frei? Is Mizuki actually a failure, is Tran's life a lie? Has Kentou learned nothing good from his 'other' instructor, and in the end, is Hotaru nothing but a demon waiting to be released? Frei's answer to those questions should be clear from the simple few moments of the look on his face.
When he speaks again, he holds one arm out in front of him, palm up, parallel to his extended leg, and glances into the center of his hand. "For seven years I was terrified to go back because I thought Kataki was right. I was a failure and she would never think differently, and that part of my life was closed to me forever." He curls his fingers in, making a fist, and his expression hardens somewhat. "But my mother... my mother is proud of me, even if I'm not following in her foosteps. Because I might not be the perfect 'son', but I became a *good person*. That's what I need to make him see, somehow."
The girl nods slowly as Frei explains the facts that require little debate or musing. The school isn't going to Kataki. That isn't up for debate. For all the ways Frei had described his family in the past, she had begun to think that maybe he fit right in with the family model. It's only after the long time runaway went back home and described them anew that she's begun to think that Kataki is an abberation from the rest of Frei's kin. "Hm," the girl replies to Frei's remark about someday in the future. Taking on a school is a lot of responsability. "That's a big decision to be made someday," she remarks with a quiet smile. She's done something of the sort, teaching Kentou in her family dojo... while hardly considering herself as having taken on the family school, there is a semblance.
He speaks of what to dow ith Kataki though and Hotaru falls quiet again, nodding her head slowly. His younger brother definitely had a variety of options, but he did what he did to make a very specific point. That much she can definitely see, thinking back on events and what she had learned about whom he attacked. She catches his gaze and the question behind it, and her jaw tightens again. She would be the first to speak praises of the others he went after, but of herself? There's a lot of doubt to be worked through there...
"I'm glad." the girl states out of no where when Frei speaks of his mother and what she revealed to him. "Part of me wants to see him again. Kataki, that is. I... I want to prove to him that he was wrong about all the things he said about me when we fought. But I don't know..." She draws her knees up, resting her chin atop them, wrapping her arms around her legs as she stares back at him. "Maybe I'll just be glad to know that you're going to approach him. There must be some way make him see that what he percieves to be the issues between you needn't be there..."
Blue eyes blink as the girl sighs a little, her focus somewhere distant as she seems to look through Frei rather than at him, remembering the cruel fight in the snow in this very lot, when Kataki used his sword techniques on her. Considering the outcome of that exchange, perhaps everything he said was right, even if her reaction was wrong. He called out her fears, her worries, he provoked her to use something she never thought she would... "He's a very talented young man," the girl remarks somewhat absently. "If he shifted his focus, he could be... well... there's a lot of potential there. It's sad to see it used the way it has been."
For a second, Frei's mouth opens to speak. Yet in his head he hears the words he was about to say -- 'he takes after his mother' -- and abruptly shuts his mouth, letting his gaze wander to the side for a second. It's not that what he was going to say isn't true; indeed, Kataki is more like Isis than either of her other children. But as Frei noticed recently, he's a distorted mirror, an image built on but fundamentally different from the source material. If the Tsukitomi matriarch was clear about one thing, it's her distaste for the type of man Kataki has become; Frei couldn't bring himself to compare the two to her, and it suddenly strikes him as disingenuous to do it now.
However, his recovery from the moment of hesitation is relatively quick, and he nods his agreement. "He's dedicated. He wants to be the best... I'm sure he wants to impress Mom as much as I did. The difference is, Musou Tenkei is all he's ever known. When I found out that it wasn't going to be what I wanted from it, I went elsewhere. I looked into things, I learned and adapted. I let people change me. Kataki... he's so invested, so hungry for the power and glory of being the 'best', that he can't take that step. All he can do is lash out at the person who symbolizes the conflict in the first place, and that's me."
There's a long pause after that, just another in a series of them in this conversation as Frei gathers his thoughts, thinking things through. Unbidden, his right hand comes up and his fingers brush over the scar that Kentou 'gave' him, the physical mark that his experiment was a success, that he really could do the things he wanted to do. That his learning wasn't for nothing. "I want to show him that. But... I need to make it clear how destructive the path he's on now really is. What the inevitable result of it is, the loneliness he's dooming himself to. I'm sympathetic... but I'm also angry. I've learned a lot about anger lately, though. It was always something I've avoided, but I'm starting to see how it can be used well, if you don't let it take you over."
His hand comes down, and for a second Frei tugs at the wrists of his overlarge shirt; the color looks good on him, but for some reason there is something dissonant about it, as if he's slightly uncomfortable wearing something other than the Chinese-style shirts he's tended to favor. "Listen... I have a question. It's not going to be an easy one either. And if you're not ready to say anything, just say so. But..." And here he looks up, meeting Hotaru's gaze evenly when he can find it turned his way. "What did he *do*?" He doesn't immediately say 'to you', but the implication is strong.
As Frei discusses some of the differences in how he and his brother reacted to their life circumstances, Hotaru remains quiet. Frei went off to welcome the world and see what it could offer. Kataki was consumed, however, his own quest to be the best accepted at the cost of all else... It sounds like they have similar sibling problems, she ponders, keeping the thought to herself, merely tucking away Frei's comments as perhaps things to keep in mind with regards to Gato's behavior.
Frei speaks of the destructive path and how he needs to help his brother see what lies down the road on the course he has chosen and Hotaru tenses up, albeit probably not visibly. That facet of Kataki reminds her of herself and the doomed path she had been eager to pursue the last few months. She knows now where it would have lead and so many others struggled to help her understand, but when she was blinded by her quest, it took the combined effort of a lot of people who cared about her to help her through it. Kataki might... not have such a large number of sympathizers.
But the topic shifts and Hotaru's thoughts on Kataki's plight are pushed aside as Frei focuses back on her with a very pointed question. It proves to be a very hard question, the girl's brow furrowing as she lifts her head up, no longer resting her chin against her knees. A somewhat twisted frown provides a hint of just how hard it is for her to answer the inquiry. "I wish I could say exactly," she states. Another wish, just like her wish to erase the last few months perhaps. "I don't know precisely... When we were fighting, he seemed to know everything about me... things I never told anyone else. He kept calling me weak, unfocused, underestimated..." she smiles faintly, "But honestly, that was far from the first times I've heard those adjectives used with regards to me, so it shouldn't have bothered me like it did..."
She sighs a little, looking at Frei directly even though she doesn't seem to know what else to say for a good long moment. "But somehow, coming from him, they hurt a lot worse. Worse than the cuts he was landing with his sword, though those were quite vicious as well..." She closes her eyes finally, thinking back over what she remmebers from that encounter. "I know that he did something to me that goes deeper than just slashes, but I only know that because I knew when that influence ended." The moment she almost slew her apprentice. "It was something that I only became aware of in its absence... The last couple of weeks before that happened I could kind of tell something was wrong, but not how or why. I was cognizant that what I was doing was wrong, but I didn't really feel guilty at the time. It was if... hm..."
She shrugs a little, opening her eyes again, "As if I just couldn't think clearly. Kind of like when you just wake up after a none-too-refreshing sleep, feeling groggy, and you're liable to say things you normally wouldn't. But when that happens you can shrug it off as being a grouch. But I was acting like that all the time. I'm... well... I'm ashamed to say that what I was doing and saying didn't come from out of no where. But my reactions to the same things that I've dealt with for years were completely unlike how I would normally handle them. I had been having doubts about my ability to keep up as a fighter for some time before then... Kataki just... made those doubts all consuming. Somehow. I don't know."
The truth of the situation is likely beyond either of the participants in the conversation; the power that gives Kataki the ability Hotaru described runs in the mother's side and thus Frei, who genetically at least takes so strongly after his father, doesn't possess it. Perhaps worse, he doesn't even have a frame of reference to consider it as an option. Hotaru might... but considering that Kurow Kirishima and the ninja clan that trained him wield similar powers, it could be something far less impressive. Regardless, the monk tries to listen carefully, swallowing questions and keeping focus. After all, his question was as much chance for Hotaru to have some catharsis as it was looking for information.
What she says makes sense, at least in terms of his read of the situation. It didn't come from nowhere; there was something Hotaru had been feeling for a while that he brought to the surface. With another helpless laugh, Frei's head turns skyward again, this time as he flashes back to his past. "He's always known JUST what to say to hurt people the most," Frei admits. "And he does it with that smile of his that makes you wonder, is he kidding, or does he really know? Can he really know so exactly what it is that's going to piss me off?" Dropping his head down, Frei grins a little at Hotaru. "Poor Thren always got the worst of it, because he's SO good-natured, and never really understood what his twin was saying." He brings both hands up in a what-can-you-do? gesture, wondering for a moment if he should mention just how much Hotaru sometimes reminds him of the other twin, who is like night and day to his sibling.
For a moment, Frei is silent as he considers this. There's a practical aspect to this questioning too, of course; if he's going to confront Kataki he needs to know what it is his brother did that caused so much of this. "Mizuki said something similar, you know," he offers carefully, trying to bring up salient points without breaking Mizuki's privacy. "He preyed on her doubts, tried to make her think she was a failure... well, that and he almost killed her." Almost... but didn't. And then he left her on the YFCC's doorstep to bleed out where Frei would find her. Hotaru might have escaped the crippling physical damage, but it might be that she got the worse end of the bargain. "He even went after Tran. But..." He suddenly stops. 'I think he liked you'? How do you say that?
You don't.
Leaning forward, Frei stretches his arms out, gripping the toes of his sneakers with a little bit of effort, and then tilting his head to the side, glancing at Hotaru with a pensive expression. "Maybe we're to blame... your friends, I mean. I don't know if anyone else noticed, but at least it was obvious to me that... these things have been bothering you for a long time. Maybe we should have done more, maybe we... I don't know. But..." He looks up a moment, then shakes his head and turns back to Hotaru's gaze. "Is it always bad to see our dark sides? As a society we try so hard to curb our dark impulses, and there's good reasons for that, but I wonder if maybe we don't do ourselves a disservice by exploring just how wicked we can become when given the opportunity..."
There's a lot Frei is holding back, that much the girl can tell. She had a reputation for being rather perceptive in the past, able to figure out what was going on with others without them saying anything to announce it while also very often failing to perceive her own issues. That was of course prior to her multi-month rampage where the last thing she cared about was what others felt or were going through... Still hurt, sensitivites raw, and very self-conscious, she's perhaps a bit less perceptive for now, but she can tell Frei is holding back thoughts.
He sympathizes with what she describes having gone through with Kataki, revealing that it's seemed to be a talent of his to hone in on where people feel most vulnerable, capable of just saying the right things to, well, piss them off. He mentions his other brother, Thren, and she smiles faintly, perhaps empathizing with what the other sibling has had to endure all these years.
Mizuki is mentioned and Hotaru is quiet, listening intently. She knew Mizuki had encountered Kataki, but the details of what happened as a result were unknown to her. Making the poor priestess feel like an inadquate failure... sounds familiar, Hotaru muses grimly. Came close to killing her. Clearly /could/ have. Wonder what made him hold back just that last little bit... Tran too, huh? That comes as news to the girl but she doesn't seem to react to it much. While she's always found interacting with the odd doctor to be very... awkward, she has also come to know that others seem to get along better with him than she does.
He leans forward, taking the conversation in a direction she hadn't quite anticipated, admitting that perhaps the blame for what had happened wasn't entirely her own. The surprise for her comes more from him admitting that he had picked up on it at all in the first place. "I-..." she starts slowly, "I thought I kept it hidden well enough. I guess not," she states, her expression somewhat torn. On one hand she's embarrassed that Frei would think that the fault could possibly be shared, but on the other hand it's kind of an ironic relief that someone else /does/ know what sort of things have weighed her down over the last year. "You know... maybe there is one... small good thing out of all this." the girl finally muses slowly. "I don't know how long I would have kept all those issues suppressed... how many years they would have weighed on me... before something else happened. It's kind of out in the open now, I guess. I can deal with it better now that I'm not trying to hide it from everyone, not trying to pretend I don't have the same problems everyone else does..."
That faint smile of hers comes back as she finishes speaking, giving Frei a slight shake of her head. "I don't think anyone's to blame for another's actions, Frei. I'm responsible for them and I believe that. I just wish I was tough enough to resist him back then. Maybe... hopefully I would be if something like that happened again."
"That's true," Frei admits. He starts ticking off points on his hands. "Is it Kataki's fault for toying with us? My fault for inspiring him to do it? My mother's fault for denying him the succession... or the fault of Japanese history for breeding the culture of succession in the first place?" The chain of responsibility... even extended into the short term of history, the field of potential blame becomes enormous enough to make the exercise seem stupid and pointless. "Maybe assigning blame isn't that useful. But seeing what contributes to a situation... that can have merit," he explains, holding out the hand he was ticking points on. "Knowing how much tradition influences even people like me, who go out of our way to question it..."
And that's really what's at the center of this entire debate, isn't it? At least for Frei and his family. Tradition... respecting the teachings of the past. But is that really all there is to it? Now it's Frei's turn for his eyes to fall, his fingers to lock together and the arc it creates of his arms to push outward, then break apart, arms moving in different directions just to give him something to DO, to burn nervous energy through kinesis. No... there's more to it. And though he once said that their situations weren't very similar, Frei begins to realize that he and Hotaru have more in common than he first thought.
"My mother said 'theory and teachings must be living; they must be carried on'. I never really understood her dedication to the school before, but I think I do understand better now. Part of it is maintaining the 400 year old tradition of our family..." He pauses, then looks off to the side. "But another part of it is knowing that what *she's* done, what she's changed and taught, *her* way of the tradition, lives on. Living tradition. I misread her, just like she misread me." Once again, as he has many times this discussion, Frei looks to the sky. "The master who taught me what I know is gone. I never thought to passing on his teachings because I wasn't sure I'd ever mastered them. When I met with Kentou to... to show him, to encourage him. Did he tell you about it?" Frei suddenly asks, glancing at Hotaru. "I was so afraid it wouldn't work..." His voice is tight, raspy with suppressed emotion. "And then it worked, and he ran with it, and look at him now." Does Frei know the end of *that* chain of responsibility? How full circle it came for Hotaru?
"But you're right. How long would I have gone without facing my past? Without... without realizing that anger can do more than just destroy?" He suddenly laughs, and it's obvious that his attempts at repressing his emotions were token at best; the corners of his bright green eyes are wet with the beginnings of tears. "I told Kentou that today's happiness is built on yesterday's sorrow. I'm trying really hard to listen to my own advice."
Frei begins to explore the great Chain of Blame, and Hotaru merely smiles quietly, resting her chin on her knees again, arms still wrapped around her legs as she watches him count the trail off on his fingers. "There's nothing wrong with trying to figure out how things get to be the way they are... as long as we don't get too caught up in the regrets, right?" the girl remarks, perhaps getting a sense of where all this is going. The words aren't spoken for Frei's benefit alone, as it's something she needs to be aware of as well...
He quotes his mother and Hotaru nods slowly, finally shifting out of her huddled up option, stretching her legs out in front of her, leaning backward, propped up by her hands. But then Frei brings up his session with Kentou, when he helped the boy discover his own control over chi, and Hotaru's expression shifts a little. Quiet contemplation gives way to a tenderness as memories very dear and close to the girl's heart are brought to the surface. The boy's eagerness to show her what he had learned, his jubilant announcement that not only had he found that last step he needed to draw chi to his control, but he could draw upon it in fights with a technique taught to him by the green-eyed monk. It's easy tell without her saying a word that Kentou did indeed tell her of his discovery, though the means by which the final lesson were carried out are unknown to her. That it was the very thing that brought her to the final, deciding point in her out of control rampage is something she keeps to herself for the moment.
He speaks of anger and its capactity to destroy but also to be used for other things as well. "Nn," the girl nods at the thought of sorrowful times laying the foundation for better days. "Perhaps," she allows softly. Frei's perspectives have always challenged her own views, though she finds a lot of them compelling to think about all the same. But this one seems to resonate with her, in light of her problems. If today's happiness really is built on yesterday's sorrow, then she must have a whole 'lot of happiness coming to her sometime soon.
"He didn't tell me what you did exactly. I would've talked about it with him, but he was so eager to show me... That's when I held a spar with him to have him show me not just his chi, but what you had taught him to do with it. He got his chance to show me it... the move you taught him. Unfortunately... it was at the same time I was showing him my move..." Her voice fades as she finishes, figuring it's clear enough what she's referring to. "I haven't really talked to him about it since... I really should."
So far, these two individuals have been facing each other, playing a bit of verbal tennis, back and forth. After Hotaru's last statement, however, there is a moment of silence before Frei stands up, walks across the intervening distance, and then sits down next to Hotaru. For him, it's a matter of closing the space, perhaps playing down the adversarial nature of facing off. Not that Hotaru and Frei have been arguing; much the opposite. But sometimes things said close up are worth a little more. His fingers get laced together again, and he stretches his arms up and over his head this time. His eyes shut, for more than a few moments he doesn't say anything.
"That blame thing works both ways," he says softly, looking down at his lap. "If you hadn't believed that I could teach someone, you'd have never brought him to me. And... all three of us would have lost out. He'd never have learned, that's the obvious one. But perhaps you wouldn't have had him there to remind you. And... I'd have never have believed that I knew things worth knowing." Biting his lip, Frei shakes his head. "I really do believe it, that something good can come from suffering. Otherwise what is it for? Because the universe hates us? Because we do terrible things to each other? If you can't believe that suffering has a purpose, a use... then it's either part of a pointless universe where nothing has purpose, or it's something to *scourge* us for our faults." Turning to Hotaru, Frei's face is full of the fire and brightness that characterize his personality; even at his most placid, the monk has always had a vivacity to him... an energy. Perhaps, after all, that is why chi compels him so. "I don't believe that. You don't have to agree, but I think I'm right. I think the blood you shed is on the ground, and now what's new comes from now, not then."
Pausing for a second, Frei lets his gaze falter, some of the intensity draining out of it, and then he turns back to the church. "Even that power you were using. I don't think it was... 'you'. Maybe that's why I got that feeling that using it didn't come without some sort of price." There's a pause, as if to let the other interject if she likes, but Frei doesn't hold it too long. She can share as she wishes. "But even that power occurs in nature. It's part of the universe we live in. To *hate* it for being what it is doesn't have much point." He turns back to Hotaru with a faint smile. "Some day you might master it. But when you do, it might be because you've found a way to make it consistent with who YOU are, and not because it represents something you want to be. That's a big difference."
As Frei moves over to sit next to the girl, Hotaru huddles up again, drawing her knees back up to her chest, as if preferring the more defensive? position when he gets near. Not for any dislike of Frei, but just a nervousness she's had around people as of late. It's taken her some time to get used to people enjoying her company for what it is, rather than doing their darndest to help her out of the miserable path she had mired herself in. As he settles in, she turns to simply watch him, silently giving him all the time he needs before he starts speaking, even if perhaps it draws on long enough to become slightly uncomfortable. She doesn't seem to mind.
Finally he speaks again though, and she listens. The what ifs. There's a lot of directions one can go with those and it's not unusual to contemplate how life might be different if the differnet forks along the path were reacted to differently than they were. The sum total experiences of each individual, the stuff life is made of, each decision, each intersection... Has brought the two to this point, sitting in a peaceful, walled in property, where they can discuss these things rather than being at each other's throats like mere weeks ago. "Nn," she makes the same sound again, a somewhat equivocal agreement, as if she's still weighing out how she feels about it.
There is hope in Frei's message though and Hotaru appreciates that. "Maybe the universe hates us AND good things come from suffering," the girl replies, a short laugh in her voice making it clear that she's just tossing that out to be contrary. "No... you make a good point, Frei. I've always... kind of felt everything had a purpose, but... sometimes things happen that really make it hard to keep believing that. I guess a lot of my old views have been... very severely tried as of late." Her smile warms a little as she looks toward the church building's wall for a moment, "But I do think you'r eright."
When the matter of her technique comes up, the girl sits up straighter, however, looking toward Frei intently. It's a hot button issue, to be sure, and it would be hard for him to touch upon it without provoking some kind of defensive reaction from the girl. But it seems he gets through it okay, since she stays calm all the while. "I'm not sure I would call it part of 'nature'," she replies, her voice a little firm on the matter. "But I don't define everything that exists as simply part of nature, so it might be a matter of semantics," she admits after a second's hesitation to give it further thought. "No..." she shakes her head, looking toward the church wall again, "I do not thing that I will be experimenting with it ever again. It's price was not just the damage I did to my arm. It also comes with a cost in wanting to use it over and over again. An addiciton that I cannot ever risk touching upon again. Even now I will not let myself fight until I know for sure I can resist the urge to use it again. You're right, it wasn't 'me', and the pricetag is too severe for me to consider it again."
"Then it has a use already," Frei says mildly, smiling at Hotaru. What did Sakura tell him? 'You're an adult, you know what's best.' What she had probably meant, of course, was that he was old enough to make his own decisions without needing to be told what was or wasn't right. But implicit in that statement is the idea that age means experience and experience means, in its own way, the ability to make decisions based on previous evidence. Not wisdom, though it could be called that, but rather a body of knowledge. A canon of memories... a history. "Because it showed you a side of yourself that, being a good person, you don't always notice. Object lesson..."
Closing his eyes, Frei chuckles lowly, but it's a sound without joy. "I must sound pretty heartless, telling you this. That whatever happened didn't matter as long as we got a pithy moral at the end of it. Just like on TV, right?" It's okay that Jessie did those uppers, Zach! She's trying so hard to get into a good school! And now we've all learned a valuable lesson. "It's not that I don't have empathy. I don't envy you the amount of pain that's still yet to come for you... but I guess my point is, if you can see that pain as having a *purpose*, then I think it might be easier to endure. You're what... eight or nine years younger than I am? At your age I was stuck in that rut with my mother, unhappy, struggling to find out who I was... on a lot of levels," he adds, freckled cheeks suddenly reddening with a faint blush. Self-consciousness, from Frei? Better make sure the moon's still in orbit. "But you... you've learned so much. About power, about friendship, about yourself and other people... that's valuable. Don't let anyone tell you different. And the things that are as they should be -- the good things, the true things -- will maintain even in the face of this."
Frei's hands suddenly press down into the ground, and again it's as he's running his fingers through the grass just because it's there... yet there is something natural about the motion for him, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Some sort of connection. "I think the world's only constant is change. We naturally want security, and we need it... we want to know that the world will be basically the same tomorrow as it was today. But things inevitably change. I think that's what Mom meant by 'living tradition'. Nothing's ever going to be the same for you," he says, and then suddenly adds, emphatically, "for either of us. For any of us. But if you resist it, you end up like Kataki... unable to handle the reality of here and now, struggling against it like someone thrashing in a spike net. You just... drive it in farther the more you flail around."
Sitting up straight, Hotaru stretches her legs out again, folding her right arm over her stomach, her left hand idly rubbing the white bandaged area, as if staving off some annoying itch, the sort often accompanying the body's efforts to mend itself. The injuries incurred by her repeated use of the Satsujinken, especially the savage, final form of the attack she touched up on all but one, ultimate time, were severe. But it appears that with some more time, she should recover. The damage was deep, not just physically but on another level modern medicine can't even hope to assuage. It's going to take a while, but she can tell it's improving. Perhaps, to, she will have view the repair she needs to do do with her friendships, her interactions with others, her reputation as a whole... Like her arm, such things might take a while to mend, but that doesn't mean she should give up on even trying.
She listens to him quietly, rubbing her arm still, blue eyes a little wide as he goes on about the differences in their experiences. Both of them have pasts that have shaped them in powerful ways, she ponders. But more important are the amazing number of harsh, but vital lessons she's learned throughout all this. The girl blinks slowly, the essence of Frei's words finally sinking in slowly. In spite all that happened, there are things to be grateful for. The pain, the ongoing agony will be severe, but she can get past it and be stronger for it... "Thanks," Hotaru states after a quiet period of silence occupied only by the sound of the grass that Frei keeps waving his hands through. Her tone somber, her expression sincere, her appretiation heartfelt on a level words may have a hard time expressing.
"I know you didn't go over all these things just for me, but... They were something I needed to hear." She smiles warmly then, folding her legs under her. "I don't think anyone else would have been able to help me see this whole mess from another perspective. I appreciate that you tried." she finishes with a faint grin, "I know I can be stubborn at times." Even when /not/ rampaging out of control.
She looks away then, back at the wall, back at the damage caused with her final strike against Frei when they fought here last. She had stared at it long and hard when she first came back to the church yard. Debated, over and over, what to do with it. Should she hire someone to patch it up? Mend the wall, restore it to what it was before - an unimportant wall on some old church building? Or should she leave it, a permanent scar, a persistant reminder of what she had done, so that every time she looked at it she would remember the horrifying things she had wrought with her hand, with her words, when stripped of the inhibition to keep her fears, her doubts, her terrors in check... She had decided to leave it. It would be a way of castigating herself, a wound that would never heal, unlike her injured arm.
"I think I'm going to get that wall fixed," she remarks, seemingly out of the blue. "Not that the dent doesn't have a nice shape to it, but I think I liked it better the way it was before." she finishes after a moment, a distant look in her eyes. It's okay to move past it, she ponders Mizuki reminding her. It's okay to repair the damage. She can't reproach herself about it forever. It's okay to take with her the lessons learned and simply... move on.
"It's funny," Frei says, as he too stands and brushes dirt from his jeans. "My mother said that even if I mostly take after Dad, for better or worse I inherited her stubborn streak." Though he was looking off into the distance as he said that, his face is placid and bemused as he turns to Hotaru, head tilted at a slight angle, his expression giving the idea that there's something conspiratorial in that admission, something just for the two of them to know. "She's probably right. We all are, fighters, in our own way." He pauses, then closes his eyes with a smile, head still at an angle that gives the impression he'd be giving a courtly nod of acknowledgement, turned a different way. "Thank you too. For..." He pauses. How do you say it? 'Thank you for my brother ruining your life for three months'? "...for keeping hope alive." It's the best he can do.
Taking a few steps away from Hotaru, the monk stops and then turns around, looking at the church wall. His stance is exaggerated, hand to his chin, one knee slightly crooked. 'The Thinker' in miniature, posed by an Irishman instead of some figure out of antiquity, perhaps. He's asking himself the same question, of course: leave the scar, or heal it over? Be continually struck by the pain of the memory, or risk losing its purpose by restoring it? In typical form, he can't help but give his philosophical meanderings voice. "Scars are funny things," he says slowly. Taking his hand from his chin, he makes a motion as if to salute, but instead points a single finger at the scar on his temple. "I wasn't... at my most diplomatic before, but I know I told you where I got this... showing Kentou something to inspire him to keep training. Between you and me," he adds, taking his hand down, "I wasn't sure it was going to work. I pushed through his aura, drew out a bit of his internal chi to give him... something visual, tangible. But you're not supposed to do that. It takes a lot of effort and precision, and the backlash... well, when it was all over and done with, there was my mark."
Walking forward a few paces so he's standing next to Hotaru again, Frei crosses his arms over his chest. "I gave Mom my headband as a memento, but it was also symbolic for me. Casting a bit of myself away, making my scars visible... but the truth is, every time I ever see Kentou use his power, I'm going to have that memory. The only good for the scar is to prove it to people who weren't there, like a badge. Well..." And here he looks back again, amused. "It's also a good conversation starter."
There's silence for a moment, and then he shakes his head. "I'm for it. Which memory do you want to endure to the outside world? The place of faith and peace, or the place where you temporarily lost your way. You could paint the thing fuscia, and yet you'd still know. I'll still know. The world might not, but is that really important?"
Having said those words, Frei stretches his arms over his head, and then gives a little wave. "I should get back. I still need to track Kataki down... especially if he decides he wants to make another 'example'. I don't know if he knew I went to Kyoto or not," Frei adds, suddenly pensive, "but if he found out, he's going to be even worse." There's a pause, and Frei glances at Hotaru carefully, his expression oddly... parental. Despite the youthful cast of his features, it's as if the 'adult' Frei is making an appearance for the very first time in a long time. "You going to be okay?"
His thanks provokes a moment of uncertainty in her eyes, the girl slowly bowing her head as if trying to decide if she even merits thanks like that. After a second, she looks back up though, her smile back as she nods, accepting the token of appreciation. He speaks of scars, marks, reminders, and Hotaru listens, eyes fixed on the scar on his forehead, lasting evidence of the gift he gave Kentou, the leg up the boy needed to reach the next tier that both she and Frei knew he could. But his scar is of a moment of improvement, the damaged wall marks one of the lowest points of her life. He's right - Neither of them will ever forget it. But part of moving past transgression may very well be avoiding broadcasting it to all the world.
Not all stories are meant to be told and retold. Some... are best kept within the hearts of those who experienced them, for there their power lies, the potent messages were learned, and sharing them would only dillute the experience. "Nah," the girl replies, grinning faintly as she pushes herself up to her feet, brushing her own white pants off, before crouching down and fishing the towel she had been seated on off the grass. "It doesn't need to know everything."
He mentions he needs to get back to tracking down his younger brother and the girl nods. If Kataki finds out, if he has reason to act out, then there isn't time to waste. "I'll be fine," she remarks, her expression reflecting the appreciation she asks for him asking, for him caring. Sure, it's the exact sort of thing Kataki convinced her people would say - doubting that she could handle herself, evaluating her as too weak to be all right without constant protection... and while months ago when asked a question like that she would lash out, she knows the concern for what it /truly/ is.
Friends care about friends. It isn't a question of one being weaker, more vulnerable than the other. It seems so simple, in this light, this calm, Spring afternoon in the tranquil church yard. But when she was being cut down by Kataki in a violent, bloody battle here, such a simple conclusion seemed impossible to come by. How different, she ponders, the shifting perspective provided by passing time, enduring friendships, and a few words of wisdom exchanged with the runaway monk who at last returned home.
"I somehow doubt he'll be interested in bothering some useless gardener." she finishes with a self-deprecating grin and shrug. It's going to take more mending before she sees herself as a fighter again. More time, more thought, more moving on past it. "Thanks, Frei. Go help him understand. I know you will." She slings the towel over her shoulder and turns back for the old building's entrance. There's still a lot of work to be done.
Inside and out.
Log created on 21:50:31 04/25/2008 by Hotaru, and last modified on 05:36:05 04/27/2008.