Chapter 9

"Hiromi, our shift's over." 
Hiromi Towa looked up at her friend Yui, who was smiling cheerfully. Izumi-shima normally was teeming with customers, but tonight, it seemed to slow to a trickle. 
 she thought to herself. 
She glanced at her watch and gasped a little in surprise. 
"Oh, no. Takao will be wondering where I am!"
"Can't your little brother do the cooking?" Yui asked, exasperated. 
"I promised that I would cook katsudon tonight for him, because he likes it so much," Hiromi explained, smiling. "It's been a while since he moved here from Yokohama, but if I didn't watch him, he wouldn't be taking care of himself as well. My parents would have a fit," she sighed. 
"Maybe the cooking skill you have didn't rub off on him?" Yui asked jokingly. "But you're right to be concerned, after all he needs to grow."
 Hiromi thought.  
"Yui, I'm sorry, but I really have to leave now. See you tomorrow!" she called out as she ran out of the little restaurant where she worked. 
For some reason, she had a really bad feeling about what was happening, and it was probably why there weren't so many customers. It was like oxygen; she couldn't use the five senses to perceive it, but she knew it was there.
Something was definitely very out of proportion here in Tokyo. 

******

Shirushi now was gasping for air desperately as the onmyouji's iron grip got tighter around her throat. She had to think of something quickly; time was running out and her vision was blurring, and she sure as hell didn't want to leave the world dying like this. 
The Sakurazukamori seemed to notice her strangled cries, sounding like garbling throughout the night. 
"Hush now, be a good girl like you're supposed to be," she heard him say in what was to her a very loud voice, thumbs digging into the soft parts of her neck, around the jugular veins, causing her to struggle even more. She had to get out of here, somehow, now what was that spell that she could use? 
Mustering whatever cunning she had, she sucked in air greedily, and then ever so slowly and painstakingly, croaked out the words. 
"Fuu..shi.." 
In a few short moments she was staring back at her would-be killer from a good distance away, while he was still bewildered to where she had gone. To her infuriation, he only smiled back towards her, that evil, cold smile, while his blind eye stared right back at her with amusement. 
"Clever, very clever," he said, watching her hyperventilate achingly. Shirushi stood her guard. With that wind spell, her speed was dramatically increased to be ready for anything that he might throw at her. 
Then, a saddened sob distracted her attention. In a split second her head had turned, to see Motomi. 
With Hikaru, now crying violently. 
 
Then she noticed that Motomi was grinning like a Cheshire cat towards her as his hands stroked Hikaru's hair. She could see the deep blue eyes shot through with fear, hearing his sobs. 

"Don't do this to me," Hikaru begged, no longer the cold-hearted assassin. "Please, don't...leave me alone," the words spoken in sheer terror.
 Shirushi thought.  Fingers trembling angrily, another spell came to her. 
"Houou..."
Motomi kissed the base of Hikaru's throat. 
"HOUOU-NO-HONOU!!" Her rage, pure anger ran through that attack towards Motomi in the shape of a flaming phoenix, uttering a screech that echoed her wrath. It blasted a gaping hole in the bridge, lighting up the darkness. 
"Looks like we have an erotophobic here, do we not?" Motomi asked nonchalantly, having dodged Shirushi's attack, barely singed. "Unfortunately," he continued, still holding a terrified Hikaru, "I don't have much time to mess with you tonight, and seeing that I'm just wasting time with a mere child, I'll just give you one more thing before I leave." 
So saying, he pressed a hand to his hostage's throat, the glow of power flowing automatically transferring to him. Hikaru now was too weak to even utter anything audible, and now as he was being drained, he flopped lifelessly like a rag doll. With a last mocking smile, Motomi threw the body into the water, where it sounded with a splash. 
"Go after your precious friend, or maybe you won't, since you already let one down," he laughed, his shape dissolving into powdery gray ashes. Seishirou did the same, leaving shell-pink sakura in his wake.
Shirushi stood, glaring at the spot where Motomi had left. 
"I'll get you for this, Motomi. What goes around comes around," she hissed.
Muttering a salvaging spell under her breath, she made the water underneath dredge up Hikaru's body, the wave placing him so gently into her arms that he didn't stir. 
He was horribly wounded; blood was seeping from his chest due to a gash, with more jagged cuts on his limbs, and bruises were scattered here and there on his body. In fact, even when unconscious, he was still in pain. He cried out while Shirushi had been checking for a pulse. 
All adding to the fact that he was dripping wet, skin also clammy.
"Good, he's still alive," she muttered, voice tinged with acid. Placing a hand on Hikaru's chest, she recited the healing spell. 
"Mizu no shukufuku..." at her words, glowing drops of water fell onto him, infusing him with power, and knitting back the gashes and blotting out the bruises until all that remained of Hikaru's ordeal were the bloody, torn, wet clothes. 
It wasn't until she had finished until she realized what she was doing.

"You're saving him!?" Kamui echoed back her thoughts. 
"I guess so...?" she answered. 
"Are you crazy!? He was going to kill you!" 
"I don't know why, but for some reason...I did it without even thinking about it, really," her voice stumbled, like trying to think of a lie. She turned towards Kamui. 
"Daijoubu desu ka?" she asked, attempting to change the subject. Receiving a nod as her answer, she thought for a moment, looking up at the sky. 
"We should find a place to stay. It's getting late."
"Shirushi!" A female voice called out her name. Kamui and Shirushi turned to see a woman standing at the end of the now nearly destroyed bridge. 
"Who are you?" she asked. 
"Come over here!" the woman yelled back. "It's dangerous where you are!"
Both teenagers obeyed. As Shirushi came nearer, she realized that the last sentence, just the way it was said, was familiar, like the woman's appearance. She was in her late teens or early twenties, hair in long brown braids, with large eyes now somewhat distended with worry. 
 Shirushi thought, staring at her summoner. 
"Are you all right?" the other woman asked, coming over and checking both Kamui and Shirushi for injuries, gasping as she noticed Hikaru in the latter's arms. 
"What happened to him?" she also checked him over for injuries. "He's wet...we should get you three somewhere, that boy may have hypothermia."
"Wait a minute!" Kamui said. "How do you know Shirushi?" 
The woman looked full into Shirushi's face, past her glasses. Shirushi started to slightly shudder. She was a little terrified by how she was being looked at, for it reminded her of Hikaru. 
"Hisashiburi(it's been a long time), but you don't remember me, Shirushi-chan?"
"Shirushi-chan?" She answered with a blank voice. 
"Towa. Towa Hiromi desu."

******

Kamui saw Shirushi's poker face shift into complete shock. 
"Hiromi...? Demo ne...I thought you had moved to Yokohama!" 
"I'm staying in Tokyo for now," Hiromi said, face serene. "However, that can wait. Is he all right?" she asked, gazing towards Hikaru. 
Kamui was about to speak, but then Shirushi, voice again quiet and monotonous, answered, "He got into an accident, but he'll be all right."
"Good, then you three will be staying at my apartment tonight. No refusing," she said calmly as Shirushi had begun to shake her head. "Iku yo," she went on. "I live in the Azabu area, so if we take the subway, we'll get there soon enough." 
As they started making their way to the station, Kamui couldn't help but stare at Hiromi. 
 he thought. 
"So, Shirushi," Hiromi interjected into his train of thought, "who is this nice-looking friend of yours?" she smiled at him. "I'm happy to see that you're settling in..." 
"Shirou Kamui desu," he answered, slightly blushing at the remark about his looks.
"Hajimemashite," Hiromi said. "How do you know Shirushi?"
"I stayed in Okinawa for a year," Shirushi's somewhat disembodied voice came back, "We went to the same school, and our mothers were friends."
"Sou desu ka," Hiromi murmured. "So you two met up again...you must have given Shinya-kun a handful when you were together!"
Kamui gazed first at Hiromi, then at Shirushi, who this time managed to keep an expressionless face, but her hands were shaking, disturbing Hikaru somewhat. 
"Did you see the ring he gave me?" Hiromi held up her left hand, displaying a silver ring on her finger. "He gave it to me when I left back for Japan."
Kamui finally found something to say. "So you're Shinya's girlfriend?"
"Yes," Hiromi said, eyes suddenly downcast. Looking up again, her face again calm. "We're here. Just in time."
 Kamui thought. 
"Come on!" Hiromi waved to them. "If we get on fast enough, we can find a seat."

******

"Tadaima!" Hiromi called as she came into her apartment at Hiro-Haim. 
"Onee-chan, what took you so long?" Takao's voice came through the rooms, whining plainitively. "I'm hungry, cook something!"
"Ingrate," Hiromi said under her breath. "I ran into some friends of mine, and one's not doing so good, so would you get him some of your clothes while I prepare a bed?" 
Takao sauntered out, long arms swinging. "I'll have to see what's clean." Noticing Hiromi's friends, he smiled at Shirushi, still holding the boy in her arms.
"Hey, the chapel's across the street if you intend to get married! Congratulations!" he said jokingly, avoiding Hiromi's glare. 
"Takao, go on and find some clothes. I'm sorry about that, Shirushi. Hurry, you better put him on the couch for now, and then when Takao comes back, we can get him out of those wet things." Shirushi looked almost like a child, her small arms managing to hold the boy, who seemed taller and possibly heavier. 
"Wait! That's Shirushi!? No way!" Takao gaped. "You've grown a lot. You can't be Shirushi! But you are," he said, still gawking. "Four years is such a long time!"
 Hiromi thought to herself sadly.  
She stared at Shirushi gently placing her "load" onto the narrow couch. Shirushi had used to peer through thick Coke-bottle lenses up at her and Shinya, ardent for their attention. Now silver mirrored glasses covered up her face. Hiromi glanced at Shirushi's other friend, who looked a lot like the one on the couch. He too was looking folornly towards the girl. 
"She's changed since you last saw her, hasn't she?" Hiromi asked, turning towards him. 
"Yeah..." The response was soft, almost inaudible. But then his voice grew louder. "I don't know what happened in the years when she was in the States, but when she came here, she was so...different. And now she's acting stranger, like a part of her disappeared." The words trembled in the air before continuing again. 
"It's horrible. Like she eats, sleeps, works, but there's almost no _life_ in what she's doing. In fact, recently, Shirushi doesn't even seem to really express anything except anger, and that's toward Hikaru." He nodded toward the couch. 
"Shouldn't have saved him. He tried to kill her tonight, and she saved his life." 
Hiromi looked at the other boy, saw the sadness, the pain shining through his eyes. She sighed. 
"I have to go make the bed for Hikaru," she said gently. "But afterwards I'll be making something, and I'd like to talk with you a little more. Is that all right?" 
He nodded. 

******
"WAAAA! You beat me again, Shirushi!" 
"Sorry." 
Hikaru opened his eyes, blinking at the soft light. He was lying in a bed, and from how warm it was, he had been lying there for some time. The room was small, but it was cozy, cream-white walls with pictures, and flowers at the window. 
He tried to sit up, and then realized he wasn't wearing his clothes. They had been replaced by oversized cotton pajamas. 
"How did I get here?" he asked to nobody in particular. The last time he had been conscious, he had been in pain, with Motomi's mocking grin right above him. He shuddered, remembering what would have happened, what probably had happened while he was knocked out. 
Memories came over him like another seizure. 
That grin. 
The pleasure and pain...
 
A child's sobs. 
<_No_.>
The scar, the ever painful scar. 
"NO! I don't want to see that!" Hikaru shivered, gritting his teeth, trying to well back the tears. 
A footstep sounded at the door, and he looked up to see Shirushi. 
"You're awake," she said simply, with the android-poker face she had perfected, completely blank, silver lenses calm, reflecting his image. 
"Yes," Hikaru, regaining his composure, "I'm already awake, and perfectly well, thank you." 
"Of course you're all right. The spell always works." 
"What spell?" Hikaru looked at her, startled. "My wounds didn't heal themselves?" 
"No," Shirushi responded, slightly adjusting her sunglasses. "_That_ would have taken a long time, so I used a water spell to accelerate it."
"I heal very fast," Hikaru said, with a slight edge of defensiveness in his voice. 
"Better safe than sorry, Midorikawa." Shirushi came closer, pulling down the collar of her sweater slightly. "As for healing fast, so do I." 
The knife wound he had left on her had disappeared. Completely. 
Hikaru drew in a little breath. "Not even scarring..." Suddenly something came to his head. 
"Kamimura." He locked stares with her. "Why did you save me?"
Shirushi looked away. "I don't really know. I didn't think. I just did it." 
"You did it so I wouldn't kill you, right!?" Hikaru glared at her. 
"I _don't_ know." Shirushi turned again to meet his stare. "Why I'd even save someone like you is even more bizarre," her mouth turned into a small frown. 
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, don't be stupid. You're a hit-man. You just go around killing people without even thinking about it later."
"That's what I'm supposed to do. It's my duty as a member of the Ikawa Project." 
"Stop the Academy-happy speech. No matter how noble you try to act, you're a hit-man. Let me ask you, do you even think about the people you kill?" Shirushi was now glaring at him full-force, voice razor-edged.
"I..."
"No, right!? They're just targets for your job. You don't give a damn about whatever the hell else they do. You don't seem to care that they're people, maybe complete assholes, but still human beings! What right do you have to determine who should die!?"
"Now wait a minute!" Hikaru shouted angrily. "You don't know what you're talking about!" 
"I know _damn_ well what I'm talking about!" Shirushi snapped, mouth pulling into a larger frown. "You don't see the targets as people! You don't care that they have hopes, dreams, fears, all the stuff we have! No, you're just an emotionless doll from that Ikawa Project. You're like that Terminator robot. In fact, you probably don't even know what true emotion is. I bet you've never felt pain at all..." 
Hikaru cut her off by grabbing her by the shoulders and slamming her hard against the wall.
"You shut the hell up!" Hikaru screamed. "Who are you to say that I've never had emotions!? You're not so perfect either!" 
"Listen," he continued, voice now calmer. "What can you say about me being without emotion, like that so-called doll? If you're so self-righteous, how come you don't act with emotions much either?" 
Silence filled the room. Shirushi stared back at him. She looked so weak, so fragile in his grip. He softened for an instant, but then his anger returned and he slammed her against the wall again. 
"When I was younger, I was on a mission," he rasped, trying to stare right through the mercury-lenses to see if she was paying attention. 
"The target had much more power than I had at the time, but I didn't care about that. I went alone, no other members of the squad were there. I really thought I could take him down without any trouble. So I had gone into the bedroom of my victim." 
He stopped to take a deep breath, preparing himself to tell what he had always remembered. For another minute, all that was heard was the girl's breathing, calm air-going-in, air-whooshing-out as she hung in Hikaru's grasp. He had been grabbing her so hard that the cotton of her sweater threatened to cut him.
"He blasted me into a wall so hard, I lost consciousness. And when I woke up..."
The tears threatened to come spilling down his face, as he continued, choking back sobs. 
"I found myself too weak, and now I was the hunted," he said shakingly, trembling. "He tore off my clothes, and he-he..." 
This time the tears came of their own accord, and he bowed his head, sobbing in agony, great hacking cries of despair, and his hands let go of Shirushi as he fell to his knees. 
"He raped you." Shirushi responded tersely, landing gracefully on stockinged feet.
"That's why. That's why I'm the emotionless one you see. I had to lock myself up, because if I didn't..."
"You wouldn't be able to go on living. In fact, it's like you already died."
Hikaru gazed up through tear-blurred vision at Shirushi simply returning his stare, long dark hair hiding a part of her face. 
"Yes. That's right. How do you know?"
"Because I'm probably doing that too. You're okay, Hikaru-kun. I guess you're okay." Shirushi ambled over to the nightstand and picked up a box of tissues, handing them to him. 
"Stop crying. There's nothing you can do about it now."
"I know," Hikaru said miserably, wiping his eyes liberally. "I already killed the bastard." He thought he saw a slight flicker of admiration quirk up a corner of Shirushi's mouth. 
"What?" he asked. 
"You had your revenge. You're pretty lucky in that respect. I still have that to do." 
Hikaru stared uncomprehendingly at the girl. He had started spying on her four years ago, and in the sporadic times he had come to see her there had been nothing about revenge she had talked about. Her actions or drawings hadn't shown anything about it either. 
What was she talking about...?

******
"I suppose you remember the pervert who tried to have his way with you. The other Seraph?" Shirushi knelt to Hikaru's level and stared into those dark blue orbs, now shining like a star-filled sea with unshed tears. 
"His name's Motomi. Fujishima Motomi. He was the same age as Shinya."
"Your brother, the one your mother kept crying over," Hikaru said thickly.
She started. "How do you know that!?"
"I was sent to watch over your family on earlier missions. I did research. That's why I know about your family, and your drawings and how you were." 
For some reason Shirushi wasn't angry, but she was fascinated with this boy, the boy now dabbing at his eyes over something so close and yet so far from her experience. 
 she thought. 
"Yeah," she continued softly. "Shinya died the same way that caused you to be like this. Motomi did it. It was horrible. I walked in to find Shinya ebbing away, on a November afternoon, sunny weather. Isn't that ironic?" 
She tugged at the ring hanging on a cord around her neck. 
"This is his high-school ring. One of the last things I have of him."
"And now, I think I can answer your question," she said, "on why I saved you. Now that I know, I think it was because of how you looked when Motomi was doing that to you, that assault. It reminded me of Shinya, how he looked when he died. And I guess it's just a guilty conscience that got me to save you." 
"Shirushi!" Takao's voice floated through the hall. "Everything all right in there?" 
"Yeah," she answered, back into her monotone. 
"Come back here! I want to try another match of 'Soul Blade' with you!"
"Bye, Hikaru," she said, getting up and walking toward the door, her white cotton socks padding on the carpet. 
"Shirushi!" Hikaru exclaimed. 
"What?" Shirushi brushed back a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. 
"I...thank you. Thanks for saving my life. I guess this means I have to fail the mission."
"You're welcome." So saying, she closed the door behind her. 
Takao's tall, lanky frame appeared instantaneously. 
"Hey, what was going on in there? Sounded like you two were making a lot of noise. He didn't hurt you or anything, right?" He surveyed Shirushi for bruises and cuts. 
"Kamui-san said earlier that that guy tried to kill you, and he was a bit worried." 
"Oh."
"Onee-chan's making katsudon, so I hope you haven't eaten yet, even though it's late. Come on! Afterwards I want to see if you can help me out with 'Tenchu', 'Rockman X4', and 'Final Fantasy Tactics', okay?" Takao grabbed Shirushi by the arm, dragging her into the living room. 

******

"So, Shirushi's in college now?" Hiromi asked Kamui as she fried pork for the katsudon. 
"Yeah, she's in her freshman year at CLAMP." 
"It's the place where there's every school from kindergarten to graduate school, right? The star-shaped one?"
"Right. I never knew that she'd be attending college here in Tokyo," he mused. "Tell me, how did you meet Shinya?"
Hiromi smiled gently. "I went to St. Anatolia, in the States before moving back to Yokohama. St. Anatolia's where Shirushi's family lives. It's such a nice town. Maybe she'll take you there sometime," she chuckled. 
"Anyhow, I met Shinya at the beginning of the school year, in September. We had two classes and the same lunch period together. He was so friendly to me, so kind. I had failed a test, and I was crying over it for the whole period." Hiromi was now calmly stirring her broth, braids swinging, still serene.
"Everyone else said it was just a bad grade, nothing to worry about. But Shinya actually came over from his seat across the room and told me not to listen to them. 'It'll be all right, Hiromi. If you want, we can study after school.' That's when I decided that I really liked him. Who else would go out of his way to help you if they didn't like you?" 
Kamui merely shrugged, but Hiromi only laughed again, large brown eyes sparkling. 
"I never knew Shinya had a little sister until I came to his house. But then I hadn't asked about his family," she said, taking out bowls for the katsudon. 
"Already in eighth grade when she was eleven. Does she help you with your work?" Hiromi teased, winking. 
Kamui shook his head, feeling his face grow hot. 
"You should ask her for help when you need it. She's very smart." Hiromi shook her head as she scooped rice. 
"But she's changed so much. You were right about that. She's so much thinner than when I last saw her. And she actually was cheerful then too. Shirushi's in pain. I could tell when I saw her."
Kamui remembered how Shirushi had looked when he met her for the first time. The slightly chubby girl with her hair in two ponytails. No one had really liked her because she was two grades ahead. For that reason, they threw paper at her in class, liked to push her onto the ground. 
There was one time when she was in gym class and someone deliberately tripped her while she was running. He remembered her slamming into the concrete, and then sliding as her glasses flew into the gate. 
With scrapes on her knees and elbows, Shirushi had gotten up, dusted herself off, and half-ran, half-limped to her glasses. And she hadn't even showed signs of crying at all. 
In fact, there was one place where Shirushi was still the same; she didn't shed tears. 
 
Kamui had cried, when he had seen his mother enveloped in flames, when Kotori fell in pieces onto the ground, and when Motomi raped him. 
Shirushi had lost Shinya, one of the people she was closest to, apparently in the worst way, as the cause was unknown for now. She had displayed little affection for her parents, and hadn't given details on their suicide. And now she seemed to be wracked with guilt over what had happened to him. 
 Kamui thought,  
Hiromi's voice brought him back. "You know, I wonder how Mr. and Mrs.Kamimura are. After all, it's been a long time."
"They're dead." 
The woman's brown braids swung as she turned in shock. "Dead? But Shirushi's mother was so young! How did they die?" 
"Car accident." Kamui saw Shirushi standing next to the table, hand on the pure white tablecloth.  
"Drunk driver rear-ended them. They didn't feel anything, it happened so fast." 
"That's horrible," Hiromi commented. Kamui looked again at Shirushi. 
Didn't her parents commit suicide? Why was she lying? 
The answer was returned by a glance from her saying, "Don't ruin it. She shouldn't know." 
"Shirushi, what happened after they died? Did you go live with a foster family?" Hiromi asked, putting the bowls on the table. 
"No, it was shortly before I left." The answer was short, curt, and almost rude. Only her expression told otherwise. 
"Ne, I'm sorry," Hiromi murmured. "Well, the food's ready. Come on, let's eat!" 
"Finally!" Takao burst in. "I'm so hungry!" he said, sitting down and proceeding to stuff himself with katsudon. 
"Takao!" Hiromi scolded. "Kitanai! Don't eat too quickly, you're scaring the others from eating." 
"It's all right, Hiromi," Kamui said. "We've already eaten." He turned to Shirushi, and she merely nodded. 
"Shirushi, are you sure you've eaten already?" Hiromi eyed Shirushi critically. "Is there anything I should know about that you're not telling me?" 
"No," Shirushi mumbled, rolling up a sleeve cuff of her sweater, exposing an  emaciated arm that stood out starkly, the knobby bones jutting out as if to spring through the skin. 
Kamui had to stifle a gasp, and he heard a sharp intake of breath from Hiromi. 
"You've grown so thin! Shirushi, this isn't healthy for you!" Hiromi exclaimed. "If you keep going like this, you'll die before a month is out."
"College is hard, so sometimes I skip meals to finish up the work. But," she said just at Hiromi opened her mouth, "I'm not really hungry, but I think Hikaru might be. Maybe you should give my portion to him. Look, I just need to take a breath of fresh air outside, all right?"
"Shirushi..." Hiromi trailed. 
"I'll be fine. Really, it's nothing," Shirushi mumbled as she slipped on her shoes and closed the apartment door. For a moment there was only the sound of her footsteps sounding on the floor, each one heartbreaking. 

******
It was a nice night out, Shirushi had to admit. The lights winked down from Hiro-Haim's rooftop like fireflies, and up in the sky the moon shone, a full, bright silver circle in nothingness.
Shinya had always liked the moon, because he could look at it without becoming blind. In many ways, it was a lot like him; cool, gentle, compassionate. 
Often, he had said, "The next time I see Hiromi, I'll take her out to watch the moon and stars."
 "But I suppose that's how this world is," her voice said out loud. "Nothing's ever fair, is it?"
Looking out over Tokyo, she sighed heavily. Was it really worth to save? Was it worth it to save a world where justice, love, and happiness were only mere lies? Everyone said justice should be served, and then they'd turn right around and do the opposite. Justice. To Shirushi, justice was like that other word, "salvation". Both seemed awe-inspiring, but it wasn't all that attainable. If justice was ever served when needed, where was her life becoming easier? Where was Motomi getting screwed over for what he did to Shinya and Kamui? 
 
Moreover, why did she want to stay alive? She closed her eyes, trying to remember what Hikaru had said to her with that knife in his hand. 
< "All that pain, gone!" > 
Maybe he was trying to do her a favor. After all, with that guilt and pain, she could have successfully died, probably be cold in her grave by now.
But could it be because of the other two things-love and happiness? It was that foolish thing called hope that she still had in whatever was left of her soul, hope that she could too, like those teenage protagonists in the comedies and novels, attain perfect love and happiness. 
"What a lie, you know you're just gonna hurt yourself, Shirushi," she muttered, pounding her fist on the railing, apathetic to the stabbing pain that came later. Her hands were nearly numb anyway. 
Sliding down onto the ground, Shirushi turned her face up to that pale, perfect moon. From this angle, it looked like someone was in that cool, shimmering circle. 
 
Almost as if someone had cued her, Shirushi opened her mouth and began to sing. 
"Mott the Hoople and the game of life. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
Andy Kaufman and the wrestling match, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Monopoly, Twenty-one, checkers and chess. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
Mr. Fred Blassie in a breakfast mess. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. 
Let's play Twister, let's play Risk. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
See you heaven if you make the list. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..." 
At first her voice seemed small, but now it seemed to grow louder, sweeter as she got into the chorus. 
"Hey Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch? 
Hey Andy are you goofing on Elvis? Hey baby, are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon...
If you believed there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool..."
Shinya had loved the song because of the lyrics and how the melody was put. Shirushi had heard him humming it whenever he was happy, either after winning a soccer game, or before a date with Hiromi. 
She had heard that song the day before he died on the radio, with the moon looming in the window of her room as she racked her brains over geometry proofs, a glass of milk on her desk, the comfort of the lamp light. At that moment, she had thought nothing could've happened to her. 
The wind blew gustily through her sweater, and she shivered a little, continuing with the next verse. 
"Moses went walking with the staff of wood. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Newton got beaned by the apple good. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...
Egypt was troubled by the horrible asp. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Mr. Charles Darwin had the gall to ask. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..."
The tapping of footsteps came sharp up the stairs to the rooftop. Shirushi didn't mind. 
 she thought to herself. She took in a deeper breath, repeating the chorus, closing her eyes, feeling the breeze punish her with cold, cold that her body echoed back. One leg moved as to lay flat against the ground, scraping grittily against sand and dirt. 
"If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon...
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool..." 
 
Shirushi's unwavering alto continued. 
"Here's a little agit for the never-believer. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Here's a little ghost for the offering. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. 
Here's a truck stop instead of St. Peter's. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Mr. Andy Kaufman's gone wrestling bears. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah."
She couldn't stop. She just couldn't stop. It was as if she was going to regret it forever if she didn't sing this, a strange tribute to Shinya...
"Hey Andy did you hear about this one? Tell me, are you locked in the punch?
Hey Andy are you goofing on Elvis again? Hey baby, are we losing touch?
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon...
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool...
If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon...
If you believe there's nothing up my sleeve, then nothing is cool..." 
She trailed off, finishing the song. The pachi-pachi-pachi of clapping followed. 
"Dare..?" she asked, opening her eyes. 
Kamui was looking down at her, seeming to glow luminously like an otherworldly being. 
"You have a nice voice," he said. Shirushi felt her face becoming slightly warm. 
"Anoo...thanks," she muttered as she moved her legs, stiff and cold so Kamui could sit next to her. Desperately trying to find something to say, she bit her lip nervously. 
"Guess I should be a little more creative with my hiding places, huh?" she stumbled. 
"What was that song?" 
"Eh? Oh, that one? Just an American song from a few years back. Shinya really liked it a lot. So every time I look at a full moon, I'm reminded of it I guess." 
"I miss him," Kamui said wistfully, looking straight ahead, the breeze blowing his dark hair, making it more unruly and giving him a more childlike appearance. 
"We all do. He didn't deserve to die. Especially not like _that_," Shirushi bit back the pain of that word. Raising a hand to run through her hair, she grimaced. 
"I think it's time you knew. After all, you're the only one I can trust besides Hiromi, and if I even told her that Shinya was dead, it would break her heart. But yours and mine are already broken. What harm can it do?" 
Silence greeted her, and she took a deep breath before speaking. 
"Shinya was murdered. Murdered as in someone actually took his life on purpose. I guess in the States it's murder one. Motomi killed him."
"Motomi!?" 
"Now you see why I hate him? I mean, I thought he was strange, and mean to me, but I didn't think he'd go kill Shinya. Shinya was the nicest guy you could have known, that's why everyone liked him in school. Especially Motomi. He was obsessed with Shinya, had an actual crush on him. That's what I discovered one day." Shirushi sighed, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. 
"He was raped before he died, just like Motomi did to you. I never really got to say goodbye, thanks for everything you've done. I missed the funeral too, don't know where he's even buried." 
"Shirushi..." Kamui seemed almost pitiful, staring at her with those eyes, completely transparent, a beautiful shade of violet, like a clear night sky. Looking into those eyes reminded her of the first time she had been outside just after sunset when she was four years old, the color just awesome, clear and brilliant. 
Not at all like her eyes, the ones she kept walled up. If his eyes were beautiful, expressive, hers must be the other extreme; dull and hideous. 
"Did you cry? I mean..." Kamui fumbled for the right words as Shirushi shook her head. 
"No. I've never cried at all. I'll never cry either. Because those were Shinya's last words to me, 'Don't cry'. If he doesn't want me to cry, I won't. So in a way, I'm still in mourning over him. But whether I actually go back on him, whether I do cry, doesn't matter. I won't be here much longer. The Promised Day-that will be the day I die. But at least I'll be able to control it, you know? When I die," she said, looking down at her hands, "I'll die happy, no matter how painful it is." 
"Don't say that, Shirushi," Kamui choked back a sob. "Don't say that...please." 
"Don't worry, I'm not sad about it. Honestly, I don't know a better way to die." She started at the sound of her friend crying hysterically, body wracked with sobs.
A true, warm, smile appeared at the corners of her mouth. "I know this seems off the subject, but to tell the truth, I can't think of a better place that I want to be right now, except on this rooftop, at night with you. If we can relive memories up in heaven, this would be one of them." She drew her knees to her chin, expression almost thoughtful. 
"Perhaps that's why I wanted to stay alive until then. I can fight, and I'll die with no regrets. No one's ever that lucky." 
"I don't want you to die," Kamui sobbed, voice low and husky. "Don't leave me, Shirushi, please," he pleaded, taking her hand, and then looking about ready to cry again. 
"You're so warm..." Shirushi murmured. A squeeze was the only response; she had never realized something so delicate and fragile could grasp that hard. 
"You don't have to worry, Kamui," she said. "I'll protect you. That's what I was here to do, right?" She smiled again. 
The next thing she knew, he had started crying all over again, burying his face onto her shoulder. Awkwardly, she put an arm around the slender frame. 
"Yeah," she whispered. "Everything's gonna be okay."

******************
"Man On The Moon"-by R.E.M., copyright 1992.  

    Source: geocities.com/tokyo/fuji/2352/clampfics