I've picked this story up again, and have finished chapter 4, except for
some polishing. I'm going to repost the first three chapters, for those
who missed them.
***
I stand outside the entrance to Furinkan, my new school. The gates
loom forbiddingly before me, like the teeth of an immense hound. My
heartbeat quickens. I reach into my purse and find my lunchtime dose.
Two white caplets, in a small plastic vial. I shake them, and they
rattle.
I wish I could return to my old school, but I could not face them. My
classmates, my teammates. I was their captain, and they followed me,
even as my tactics grew more and more bizarre. �There are no rules
against it!� I would say. �Don't you want to win?!� And I browbeat
them, and they fell in line. Except Eriko. I spat on her and called
her traitor, even as they took me away, but she was my only true friend
among them all. I am terrified by the thought of what she saved me
from. No, I cannot return to St. Hebereke.
My spittle, clinging to her cheekbone, mixing with her tears.
These are shameful thoughts, and I must banish them. Dr. Nakajima told
me to think on the future, and my future is in this building. My
brother is in here, and he will protect me.
Oh, Tatchi. So strong and so noble. How I regret all the names I
called you, all the things I accused you of. It was so wonderful to be
home with you again and hear you talk of your new girlfriend... and
talk, and talk! She must be a wonderful girl for you to be so crazy
about her.
I must stop using that word so freely.
Thoughts of my brother make the gates smile, and I push them open. I
must hurry; school has started, and I am already late.
Inside, boys lie scattered like straws tossed about by a cruel wind.
As I watch, one rises painfully to his feet and staggers towards the
door. I move to intercept him.
�What happened?� I ask. �Who did this to you?�
He smiles. His cheek is scraped open and his eye is dark and
swelling. I think he is missing a tooth. �Akane Tendo,� he replies,
and turns toward the door again.
Akane Tendo? My brother�s girlfriend?
What madness is this?
THE ROSE AND THE WORM
By David Homerick
Based on "Ranma 1/2" created by Rumiko Takahashi.
Chapter One.
In the echoing halls, I fumble for the paper that has my classroom
number. 341, on the third floor. I dart up the stairwell and past rows
of closed doors. The thought crosses my mind that school buildings and
madhouses are built much the same, but I cannot tell if the thought is
meaningful. I find the door.
The teacher stops his lecture and chastises me quietly for being late:
�I�ll have you stand in the hall next time.� Then he introduces me to
the class as �Upperclassman Kuno�s younger sister, Kodachi.� A grumble
runs through the room at my brother�s name, and one girl gives me a cold
glare. Is my brother not liked? It is the nature of the younger
students to resent the upperclassmen, but who could not respond to my
brother�s noble spirit? But perhaps it is me they dislike. It has been
six months since the antics of the Black Rose were the talk of St.
Hebereke, plenty of time for stories to have reached Furinkan. Does
this school have a Martial Arts Rhythmic Gymnastics team? I do not
immediately recall one, but my memories of that time are distorted and
strange.
Glancing at the enrollment sheet, I see Akane Tendo�s name, and ask the
teacher to point her out for me. He indicates the girl who gave me that
glare. This is my brother�s beloved? She is pretty, in a common sort
of way, but when my brother spoke of her beauty and ferocity I imagined
something on a higher plane than this surly girl. I take a seat near
her and, when the teacher has his back turned, pass her a note: �What
happened this morning?�
She scribbles a reply and hands it back. Unfortunately, she is not
careful and the teacher spots her. �Miss Tendo, Miss Kuno,� he says,
confiscating the note, �perhaps you would like to continue this
discussion in private. Go stand in the hall.�
The buckets are heavy, but I am no weakling. I find this quiet and
restful, much preferable to a straightjacket or having my hands caned.
I glance at Akane. She stands quite stiff and stares at the wall. I
ask her again about this morning.
�Ask your brother,� she says. �I�m not speaking to you.�
And she does not. I am reminded again of the asylum, and the thought
strikes me that I might be back there, and only imagining that I am
here. The thought takes a terrible hold over me. My arms are heavy.
Perhaps I really am in a straightjacket, and that is why I can�t move
them.
I fight the notion. I remember being released from the asylum. I
remember my day in detail. I analyze my own behavior and find it
reasonable and free from paranoia or grandiosity. I think about the
drugs in my purse, which I will swallow at lunchtime. Slowly the notion
begins to fade. �I�m not crazy,� I whisper.
�What?� asks Akane.
�Nothing.�
At lunchtime, I eat quickly, swallow my medication, and set off to find
my brother. Inquiries lead me to his table, where he is seated with a
girl I do not recognize.
�Hello, brother dear!� I say. We are always somewhat formal in
public. �It�s so good to see you.�
�Ah, sister,� he replies. May I introduce Miss Nabiki Tendo, sister of
my dear Akane?� Turning back to her, he adds, �This is my sister,
Kodachi.�
I bow. �Pleased to meet you.�
She raises an eyebrow. �Hey, there.�
Hey there.
She taps the table, drawing my attention to five snapshots she has laid
out. They are of Akane, most of them showing her practicing some kind
of martial art, perhaps karate or kenpo. �I�ll take them,� my brother
says. He reaches into his wallet and begins counting out thousand-yen
notes, laying them on the table. Nabiki leans forward with greedy
eyes. At ten, she reaches forward, but I slam my hand down on top of
the pile. Ten thousand yen of our much-depleted family fortune... for
these? What is my brother thinking? Is he thinking at all?
�Brother dear, why are you buying pictures of your girlfriend from this
person? Surely you can take pictures of her yourself.�
Nabiki throws me a poisonous look. I stare icily back.
My brother speaks. �My beloved is very shy, and does not like to be
photographed. With her sister, however, she is willing to display the
rare loveliness which you see before you.�
�And then this creature sells them to you for two thousand yen each?
Dear brother, you are being used.� It is a very old scheme, but a
reliable one. A samurai, young, naive, becomes enraptured with a
geisha, and she leads him to believe she returns his passion. Blinded
by love, the samurai does not realize how much he is paying for access
to her until he is ruined, whereupon he is discarded like a broken
chopstick. �Go sell your sister elsewhere,� I tell Nabiki. �We don�t
need her here.�
Nabiki says nothing, merely looks expectantly at Tatewaki. He does not
disappoint her. �Surely ten thousand yen is but a small price to pay
for such beauty as this?�
�Dear brother,� I say. I had best not attack Akane, though she is
doubtless equally involved in this charade. He is so besotted that he
will disbelieve anything I say. �Have you not told me she loves you
well?�
�Her love for me is higher than the highest mountain, and deeper than
the deepest ocean. The tallest tree is nothing compared to her love for
me. Her love...�
I interrupt him before he conjures another stale image. �If you have
her love, then what need have you for these trinkets? Especially at
these prices, dear brother.�
He waves a hand airily. �The true samurai does not concern himself
with money. It is beneath him.�
I see an opening and dive for it. �Of course not,� I say in mock
horror. �That is a matter for women. And as your sister, and the
female head of your household, I must insist that you not spend this
money. Please, brother. Allow me to handle this matter for you.�
He is silent. Nabiki, with a great show of casualness, reaches forward
and adjusts one of the photos. �Look at her, Kuno. Look at her.�
He picks up a photo and examines it. I hold my breath. He sighs,
closes his eyes, and sets it down. �Very well, sister dear. On your
advice, I will forego this purchase. But be advised that this is a sore
trial for me.�
Nabiki leans back coolly, but her eyes belie her poise. They are dark
with anger. �Little sister�s looking out for her big brother. How
sweet. But little sister doesn�t know what she�s dealing with.� She
scoops up her pictures and stands up. �When your brother changes his
mind -- and he will -- the price will be fifteen thousand.� She turns
and saunters away, like a cat feigning uninterest in a bird it was too
slow to catch.
I look down at my poor brother. He doesn�t understand. Even now he
is frowning into space, thinking of that worthless girl. His hair has
fallen across his face, and I gently push it aside. �Thank you, dear
brother,� I say.
Class resumes, and I am forced to sit by the younger Tendo girl again.
I cannot believe how much that Nabiki person has upset me. Trembling
with rage, I take out paper and write.
�Miss Tendo.
�I know what you�re attempting, and I will not allow you to succeed.
If you continue to toy with my brother, there will be painful
consequences. Stay away from him. You may consider this a threat.�
I sign the note, fold it, and slip it into her bookbag. If I give it
to her directly, she will undoubtedly cause another clumsy scene, and I
would prefer not to be punished twice in one day. Let her stew over it
after school, at home.
Once school has let out, I return to the family residence. This house
feels twice as big as it needs to be, and it looms at me as I approach.
Memories assault me. Flinging rose petals about and laughing with wild
abandon at nothing in particular, setting traps about the mansion in
hopes of catching the assassins I am convinced are coming -- bits of my
past flicker like a kinema in my mind. I unlock the door and enter. My
brother is not home yet, so I will prepare dinner for the two of us.
Among the spices, I find some less traditional food additives.
Barbiturates, mostly. I should throw them away, but I have a powerful
reluctance to dispose of my pharmacological arsenal. I don�t think the
elder Tendo girl is going to take kindly to my interference, and I don�t
know how far she might go. The younger girl could be dangerous, too.
She�s some sort of martial artist, and apparently quite a skilled one.
I�m sadly out of practice, and the drugs that help me maintain my mental
balance also disrupt my physical one.
Of course, the disease could be thinking for me. Nabiki Tendo hasn�t
threatened or harmed me, and I shouldn�t be assuming she will.
But the image of the beaten schoolboys comes to my mind, and I realize
that I have no idea what is truly happening in Furinkan High.
In any case, keeping drugs in my spice cabinet won�t accomplish
anything. I take them up to my room.
By the time my brother arrives home, I have dinner prepared. I�m not
the best cook in the world, but I�m good enough--good enough to make
cookies that taste acceptable even when laced with muscle relaxant,
anyway. I happen to think that indicates a certain amount of skill.
�You have placed nothing untoward in my meal, I hope,� says my brother
as I scoop rice onto his plate.
�Of course not,� I say, feeling hurt. He pokes uncertainly at his
food. �I�m cured, remember?� I take his dish, replace it with my own,
and sit down, eyes stinging. I suppose I cannot blame him for his
suspicion, after what I have done, but I still feel as if I have been
slapped. He digs into his meal, apparently oblivious to my sense of
injury.
I breach the subject of the early morning massacre, but have trouble
keeping him on-topic. I gather that these boys regard themselves as
potential suitors for Akane, and that they must defeat her in order to
be judged worthy to date her, but I can't understand why she insists on
this absurd ritual. My brother is of no help whatsoever:
"She is a tigress!" he says. "They gathered around her like jackals,
snuffling and growling, but she stood firm. One charged her. She
dispatched him with a single blow! Another came. Proud and fierce she
stood, and again the animal went down. Two came at once! Fools! For
my love seized one and flung him into the other, and down they went like
ninepins. Oh, Kotchi! If only you could have seen her! You would have
been thrilled to the core of your being to see such power and skill and
beauty! She was...."
He rambles on, heaping praise on Akane for something she had no
business doing in the first place. I listen with half an ear. Is it a
ploy to gain my brother's sympathy, or to increase his admiration? If
it is, it seems to be working. But why are the other boys so determined
to win her? What has she promised them? Sex? Boys are primarily
motivated by sex, so that is quite likely. And yet my brother shows no
signs of jealousy, and I cannot picture him allowing someone else to
sleep with his girlfriend.
Oh, it makes no sense. My brother is more or less finished eating, so
I begin to clean up the kitchen.
Night comes. I lie in bed, but sleep escapes me. The sounds of the
house come alive, and I feel once again the terrors of the past. I
remember my mother's funeral, and how my father attended in shorts,
sandals, and a loud Hawaiian shirt, loudly boasting of his upcoming
"vacation," one from which he never returned. I remember lying in this
very bed, crying with loneliness and fear, night after night. I
remember quarreling with my teachers and screaming at my brother, as I
went from a 4.0 student to one who skipped class and missed tests. My
goals narrowed from becoming a medical researcher, a wife and mother,
and perhaps someday winning a Nobel prize to remaining the undefeated
champion of my sport, no matter who I had to hurt to do it. The Black
Rose was born.
As I lay here, I can feel my illness lying in the back of my mind like
a terrible worm. The drugs can put it to sleep, but never kill it. It
will be my constant companion until the day I die. I see a long, lonely
battle ahead that can only end in death or madness, and I am afraid.
Day after day I will struggle for something most people take for
granted, for my very self. I would rather have been born with flippers
for limbs than live with this creature in me, waiting to eat my life if
I tire.
I will never be a physician, a wife, or a mother. I will live in this
house on my brother's charity and be a lonely old maid, for who would
marry a madwoman? What man would want me, Kodachi, as his wife and the
mother of his children? My unblemished face and body are as nothing
compared to the constant threat of derangement and violence which will
follow me forever.
Tears fill my eyes. No one will ever love me. I press my face into
the pillow to muffle my sobs.
Morning brings, if not joy, at least renewed determination. While I am
packing my medication, I realize that I forgot last night's dose. I
must be more careful; I cannot afford to make such mistakes.
I depart for school early, determined to see the battle for myself.
Arriving, I settle myself on the high stone wall, facing the school.
Judging from the collection of boys wandering about, I am in plenty of
time. One boy swings a hockey stick uncertainly back and forth, while
another does knee-bends. One by one they trail in, looking nervous, and
gather in one corner to gain courage from each other. My brother
arrives, too, and nods solemnly to me before entering the school
building.
The minutes creep away. I crane my neck to look down the street. It's
almost time for school to start; when is Akane going to arrive? Then I
hear approaching footsteps and spy two figures, both running full speed,
one on the sidewalk and the other -- of all things -- actually running
along the top of the fence.
He jumps down, and both cross the street, heading for the school. I
don't recognize the fence-running boy, but the girl is Akane Tendo, with
a scowl that would terrify an ogre. The boy leaps onto the wall and
crouches beside me as she charges into the schoolyard. Out of the
corner of my eye I see my brother step out of the building.
"I hate boys!" screeches Akane. "I... hate... BOYS!"
She tears through the group like a buzzsaw, closing on each boy and
dispatching him with one or two brutally effective blows before moving
on to the next. It is quite the most astounding and terrifying display
of skill I have ever witnessed.
"She hates boys?" I wonder aloud. "Is she a lesbian?"
"Probably," snorts the boy next to me. I spare him a glance. He is a
handsome, muscular youth in a red shirt, with an air of untamed vigor.
I spare him another, longer glance.
"What do you mean?"
He shrugs, muscles moving under his shirt. I suddenly feel
uncomfortably warm. Tearing my gaze away, I watch the fight again.
With one final swift blow, Akane dispatches the last of her suitors.
The bell rings out into the sudden quiet. The boy in the red shirt
leaps down, and I follow him. My brother steps forward. "Fools..." he
begins, but Akane has spotted me.
"YOU!" she screams, charging towards me. I realize that I am
completely unarmed, nearly helpless. I hide behind the boy in red.
"What did you mean by that note, huh? 'I know what you're up to?'
What's that supposed to mean?" She tries to dodge around him, but I
circle, keeping the boy between us. She tries again, but I dodge the
other way. She stops and glares at him. "Why are you protecting her,
Ranma?"
"Me? I'm just standing here."
"I know what you are!" I shout over Ranma's shoulder. "You're the
geisha that ensnares the young samurai!"
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A . . . a geisha?" She gapes at me as if I'd said
something totally unintelligible. "Huh?"
"You there!" My brother has grown tired of being ignored. "Who are
you, that you should be so familiar with Akane and my dear sister, who
has so recently returned from--" I open my eyes wide and shake my head,
and he catches himself. "--France."
France.
I bury my face in Ranma's strong back. "Shoot me," I whisper. "Shoot
me now." It occurs to me that I never properly appreciated the asylum.
"I'm Ranma Saotome. Who're you?"
"I am Tatewaki Kuno." He raises his bokken dramatically. "The Blue
Thunder of Furinkan High!" An ominous crack of thunder rolls out of the
sky and a cool, wet breeze begins to blow. I look up at the gathering
clouds.
"Uh, yeah," says Ranma nervously. "We're gonna be late for class.
C'mon, Akane!" He seizes my hand and dashes into the building. My
heart beats fiercely as we pound down the hall together. "Which class?"
he asks.
"341," I respond. "Third floor." I can barely keep up with him.
We burst through the classroom door as the bell rings. I stagger a
little, panting, but his warm, strong hand is still clutched about mine,
and I am smiling foolishly at him.
"Are we late?" asks Ranma. He looks back at me and does a perfect
double-take from a Mack Sennet movie. He drops my hand as if it were
made of splintered glass. "Uh . . . you're not Akane."
"Kodachi Kuno, sixteen years old. Hi." I bow.
"Uh, Ranma Saotome."
"Yes, I know."
"You must be the new student," interrupts the teacher. "Please sit
down, class is about to start."
Akane charges into the room like an enraged water buffalo. "RAN MA!"
she bellows. I slide quietly into my seat.
"Late," says the teacher, without looking up. "Running in the halls
and shouting. Stand in the hall."
Akane's shoulders slump and she turns away, defeated. Is she crying?
She leaves the classroom quietly. As the door swings shut, I turn and
look at Ranma, who is, in turn, watching the closing door. As the latch
clicks into place, he turns and looks at me. Something passes between
us--a moment of understanding.
Akane is important to Ranma.
I don't know how I know this, couldn't give an analysis of my
reasoning, but I know it's true and I know it's not the disease; the
disease never gives a sudden bright flash of insight like this. He
looks back at the door as he sits, away from me.
I look down at my desk, feeling deprived and lonely. What is it about
that girl that draws the boys so? I don't understand. Taking out my
schoolbooks, I try to follow the lesson, but my eyes swim with tears
that I have to rub away. I wish--I wish a million things, but mostly I
wish that I were normal. Then I could have a normal life and a normal
brother and a boyfriend like Ranma. It's not fair. She doesn't even
care about him. I'd care about him, I'd . . .
Something touches the back of my hand. Fingers. I follow the fingers
to the hand and back up the arm to Ranma, who is looking at me,
concerned. "You okay?" he whispers.
Oh, he cares, he cares. I smile at him and nod faintly, hardly able to
breathe. He gives me a roguish grin and turns away. I watch him raptly
until the muffled sniggering around me penetrates my consciousness and I
turn back to my schoolbooks.
Why do they keep these classrooms so hot, anyway?
Class proceeds quietly for a time. I pay as much attention as I can to
the lesson and the rest of it to Ranma. He quickly stops paying
attention to anything at all and stares blankly at the blackboard. I
have just decided to ask if I can help him with his homework when there
is a commotion in the hallway. I hear my brother's voice, then Akane's
voice raised sharply, though I cannot understand either of them.
Suddenly my brother bursts through the door, shouting. "Saotome, I
forbid it! I will never accept this engagement between you and Akane
Tendo!"
"Engagement!?" burst out dozens of voices, mine among them, drowning
out anything else my brother has to say. An incomprehensible cacophony
of questions and demands follows. I begin to feel strange again, to
sense that I am pulling away from reality. I haven't the will or the
wit to deal with any more of this. I push my way out of the classroom
and flee down the hall. The walls stretch in front of me and squeeze me
from the side and I am crying, crying as I run.
Outside, I stumble, and end up huddled sobbing on the lawn with my mind
knocked loose again. Bizarre fantasies scream in my head, visions of
both cruel vengeance and abject begging. Love me, love me, love me. I
dig out my pills and swallow them dry. Eventually the chaos recedes and
I am able to think meaningfully again.
This place is bad for me. People in my condition need safe, controlled
surroundings in order to function. Stress and confusion make us
vulnerable to relapse, and my brother is no longer the steady,
comforting presence I remember him as. I am being forced to anchor him
to reality, instead of the other way round. I should, for my own
safety, place myself back under Dr. Nakajima's supervision, but I can't
simply abandon my brother to these Tendo bitches.
From above and behind me, I hear shouting and lift my head in time to
see both Tatchi and Ranma throw themselves from a third story window.
Horrified, I scream as they plummet, strike the ground, bounce slightly,
and settle, sprawled on the grass. I run to them. Ranma, although
battered, does not seem seriously injured, thanks to the way he tucked
his body during the fall, but my poor, dear brother landed on his
shoulder and has severely broken his arm.
Akane comes charging out the front door with a crowd at her heels.
"Are they all right?" she asks, looking more concerned than I would have
given her credit for.
"I'm fine," says Ranma, staggering to his feet. I catch him as he
collapses and hold him close, glaring at Akane. Her mouth tightens.
"Fine, then." she tosses her hair and turns away. "Pardon me for
worrying."
"My brother has broken his arm," I say. "But I don't suppose that
bothers you, does it?"
She whips around. "Your brother is a creep! I'm sorry he broke his
arm; I wish he'd broke his stupid neck! I hate him!"
My throat tightens at her words. I lay Ranma down and stand slowly.
"Is that so? And what prompted this change of heart?"
"My love is shy," says my brother from the ground, "and covers her love
with a mask of indifference. But the nobility in her spirit calls out
to mine, and the gaze of the worthy can penetrate all disguises."
"I don't think she's pretending, dear brother," I respond.
Akane points a shaky finger at him. "You see? You see what he does?
No matter what I do, it's always the same thing. I'm 'shy,' or I'm
'hiding my feelings' or something idiotic like that. It's not even
'someday you'll change your mind;' he acts like I _already_ love him.
Well, I don't. I don't, and I never will. Maybe you can explain that
to him, because I can't."
No. Oh, no. So much makes sense now, so many pieces fit. Perhaps I
should have solved the puzzle sooner, but I did not want to see the
picture it revealed. While I was being purged of the worm, it was
slowly eating away my brother's mind, unmolested.
"No explanations are necessary, my dear sister," my brother replies as
if prompted. "The beautiful Akane and I share a bond which passes mere
language. Such a bond cannot even be broken by death. Even now, her
soul reaches out to mine, and I feel . . ."
I cannot bear this. "Please, brother," I whisper. "Please be quiet."
He continues, unheeding. I try to school my face into immobility, but
can see my failure in Akane Tendo's eyes, which have lost all anger and
are now swimming with pity.
"I'm sorry," she says, taking a step forward with her hand
half-raised. "I know you must love your brother and . . . and I guess I
said some things I shouldn't have. Can't we just . . . start over? Oh,
please don't cry! I'm sorry, I . . ."
I turn and flee, abandoning my brother. I must escape this girl and
her cruel, humiliating tenderness. I must compose myself. I must think
on what is happening, what I can do. I must be proud, and strong.
I must mourn my brother, who has fallen into madness.
***
-- David