"Azure Miracles"

        Juri walked to the rose garden and quickly cut a bouquet of roses to take to Ruka.  The dark blue ones, blue as the ocean or the sky – they looked so frail and fragile.  When she had enough, she headed to her car.
        Only seniors – and student council members – were allowed to keep vehicles on campus. Another perk. Still, Juri didn’t leave the Academy often and rarely used hers, but today she wanted to get to the hospital as quickly as possible.
        Once there, she asked at the main desk where his room was.  Directing her to the intensive care unit, her forehead wrinkled in concern as she headed there. ~They only send the worst cases there.~
        Once she arrived, she was confronted by a nurse.  “I’m sorry, but only family is allowed to visit in this unit.” She took Juri by the elbow and started to lead her away, but Juri ripped her arm from the woman’s grasp.
        “I’m his cousin,” she lied, the look in her eyes daring the nurse to contest her. A look of clinical pity came into the nurse’s eyes as Juri was lead into the small, closet like room filled with equipment and Ruka, somewhere, among all the machines.
        “Since you’re family, you need to know,” the nurse said, her voice the heavy
ominous tone of professional resignation – as comforting as a death knell. “He was better this afternoon- sitting up and talking – but then he slipped back out of consciousness suddenly…. You never can tell with these cases, the way they fluctuate. You should contact the rest of his family if you are able – his parents especially.”  The woman gave her  a grave, conspiratorial look, not saying the inevitable. Juri knew her face blanched the color of Ruka’s bedsheets.
        The woman squeezed her arm, and made an attempt at comfort, but Juri heard her voice as if it were a million miles away. Finally the woman left the room.
        She stared at Ruka. He had tubes in his arms attached to drip IV’s and other
mysterious things, wires everywhere… the only sound in the room was the steady blip of the heart monitor, a solemn rhythm counting out the hours remaining of his life.  She walked to the edge of his bed, looking closer.  His skin was so pale it was almost translucent; she could see the fine cobweb network of blue veins in his hand as she took ahold of it – shuddering at how cold his fingers were.  He looked dead – or asleep.
        She smiled sadly down at him.  ~The prince should be rescuing princesses, not lying here. But there are no princess or princes – and no mir--~   Juri let it drop.  She bent closer, her orange golden curls shading his face from the ghastly florescent light.
        Was he breathing?
        Barely.
        Juri’s free hand clenched into a fist. ~Damn you, Ruka.  Don’t leave me here, after all I have done, so much left to say, so much I want to know…~
She never knew – or at least, she never asked – how he felt. She guessed by the
way he looked at her, the same longing in his eyes as when she looked at Shiori in a rare moment of gaurdlessness. Still.. she wished she knew … because if he didn’t care for her –that way – she forced herself to acknowledged the word – love her, then she wouldn’t have the weight of guilt upon her if he did die.  She knew the pain of love unreciprocated, and she would never wish that on her friend – especially her dying friend, to know he was alone in the final hours. But she didn’t – she couldn’t – but the obligation stood, unspoken.
        She waited over him, a vigil, hovering like the Angel of Death, the devil that
tormented his heart.   Desperation clawed at her.  How could he be dying, after she dueled for his sake, struggled for him? How dare he die on her now? What could she do, to instill some hope, instead of just staring down forlornly at her dying prince?
        He was only sleeping, not dead.  Something…something she read in a story as a child, about a prince and a princess……..
    She shook her head, scolding herself. Clinging to fairy tales in the harshness of this reality, cold and rational as the steel machines that weighed his seconds left on earth.
        Something – pity, sorrow – welled in her eyes.   “Gomen.  Gomen nasai,” she
whispered.  ~I’m sorry I couldn’t be your princess, Ruka….~   “At least I—“
Leaning loser, her tiger lily curls brushed his pillow. Her mouth hovered over his, -
not a kiss – the hesitating prelude, a dream of a kiss…. She could feel the heat of his lips radiating against hers – a sign he still lived – – the ghost of a kiss, hovering…..
        She whispered, her breath on his lips, reflecting back again at hers – “If this works, it’ll be a miracle.”
        Sunset scattered tresses bleeding into the ocean blue strands, melding like sun
reflected on the sea – she closed her deep sea green eyes… not quite, closer, the shadow of a kiss….
        Juri stood bolt upright, slapping her hand over her mouth as though she’d been stung.  She stumbled backwards, tripping over something and slamming into the wall.  Her eyes were wide, shocked.  ~What did I just say?! What did I just do?!~
        She stared at him a moment, in anticipation, for a brief second expecting him to open his eyes and look back at her.  Sighing, she let a sad smile slip onto her lips. ~How foolish of me to expect such a thing.~
        Quietly she crept back to his bedside – not that he would wake up by noise.  Lifting the bouquet she had brought, she studied them….wilting, already? She just picked them.   She took one last look at Ruka – why this dread, every moment, that each look truly would  be the last – before stepping outside his room.
“I brought these for him,” she said, gesturing with the roses.  “Do you have
something I can put these in?”
        The nurse looked sternly over her glasses at her.  “I’m sorry Miss. We don’t allow flowers and gifts in intensive care.”
        Juri bristled. “Why not?” she inquired, her voice dangerously polite.
        The woman folded her arms. She looked the victor of many such battles. “Because,” she began, a bit crossly, “Things like that may have harmful bacteria carried in from the outside.  Even a cold could kill most patients here. “
      Juri crossed her arms, glaring at the woman.

        About ten minutes later, Juri strode back into Ruka’s room carrying the roses in a clear glass vase that magically appeared out of thin air.  She walked over to the side of the room to set it down on a table—
        “Juri, how nice. Are those for me?”
Vase, roses and Juri almost ended up on the floor.  She spun around, shocked.
“You’re—You’re--- Awake, then?”
            He was pale still, and lying prone on his back, but the characteristic grin was stamped onto his lips.  He raised a hand in a flippant gesture.  “So it would appear.”
        She smiled, thinly, still all the way on the other side of the room, as cautious as if he was truly a specter of death before her.  “That’s…nice,” she managed.
Her head was spinning, calculating…. ~That’s insane, Juri. It wasn’t because – it
had nothing to do with – just a coincidence based in a fairy tale..~
        Ruka’s eyebrows raised skeptically. “You sound thrilled,” he muttered dryly.
Cautiously, Juri stepped closer to the bed. “I should let the nurse know – they were worried about you.”  She turned to call but he caught her hand, drawing her back.
“They can wait a minute.”
         She unceremoniously ripped her hand out of his grasp, but did not leave.  Instead she sank into a chair next to his bed and looked at him expectantly.
         Masking his crestfallen expression, he smiled smoothly,  but his lips twitched with the pain of the slight movement. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
         Juri shrugged, trying to hold onto her casual air.  She leaned back, lounging in the chair.  “I heard your condition had worsened.  I wanted to see you.” Her words stopped abruptly, as if the sentence had been clipped by a pair of scissors.
         He smiled sadly, knowingly, finishing the phrase she could not speak. “For the last time?”  Juri could not meet his eyes; he nodded slowly in confirmation. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  You did come here expecting the worse.”
         “I wish I hadn’t,” she replied softly, staring blankly at his heart monitor, watching the regular pattern of his heartbeat slide across the screen.
         “Was there anything else, besides bidding me a fond farewell to the next world?”
        Juri’s face struggled to keep her visage neutral.  She hadn’t come here for that, truly. Buried deep within her, she had come hoping something she might say or do might, miraculously, give him the strength to go on and be victorious over his illness.
        Juri looked down at him finally, her features hardening into a carefully constructed mask of mild concern. It was necessary for her to face the hard truth: he was dying, and this may indeed be the last time she spoke to him.
                                    So if anything was to be said….
…now was the time, was it not?
        “I did…. Want to ask you something.”  Ruka, a spark of interest in his eyes, turned his head so he could see her profile as she spoke.  He smiled, ruefully.  Even in her struggle to appear so strong, always unbending, she was so beautiful.  “Anything,” he whispered hoarsely.
         Hearing his voice, Juri asked quickly, “Do you need some water?”
Ruka smiled teasingly. “Is this the vital question you came here to ask me on my death bed?”
        Her eyes flattened, and he figured it would be wisest just to give her an answer. “No, if you want to give me something to drink, it would have to be sanctioned by that drill instructor of a nurse out there, and I would much prefer your company to her fussing and ordering. My throat is dry but I’ll manage. Now what is it you wish to know?”
           Juri quietly drew breath. She had been wondering this, curious, ever since his plot for their duel had been revealed.  She had hoped the answer would slip out in months of conversations, but now it was painfully evident that he wouldn’t have months left to speak to her.
         “You’ve never answered me truthfully, fully.  What was it that you wanted to
accomplish with the power of miracles?”
         Ruka cast his eyes over the features of her face, like marble, so smooth and
unemotional. And yet, there were cracks in the marble, where some of her defenses were weak.  “I wanted to break the bonds that held you captive, so you could be free to live your  life unhindered.”
         Juri sniffed, thoroughly unsatisfied.  “So it is your duty to decide when it is time for me to move on.? Why, Ruka?”
         Silence but for the beeping of machines.  Ruka’s eyes darted across the room,
admiring the blue roses.  In that silence hung the answer she didn’t want to hear. “I thought you said I could ask you anything,” she muttered, leaning forward so she could see his face better. So pale… and yet… the touch of a fever in his cheeks?
         He nodded sagely, still not meeting her eyes.  “I said you could ask.  I didn’t say I would give the answers.”
         Juri scowled down at him.  It was like him to wriggle out of a direct question, even now.  “You never give a straight answer.”
         Ruka snorted, a sharp look in his eyes as he glared back at her. “Do you?”
Another gulf of noiselessness swallowed them for a moment.
         Finally, Juri relented, settling back into her seat.  Staring at his hand – it looked so frail as though a wrong touch would break it – she started to speak in a quiet narrative tone.
        “I remember last year when we used to meet by the bench by the lake.  You did teach me many things, and you passed on your skill to me. For that I will always be grateful. “ Her tone now took on almost a darkening whimsical air. “Then there were times when you would take off your mask before me.  Then I’d take mine off, and turn back to face you.  There was this-“ she paused for words “-certain look in your eyes.  It was more than the pride of a teacher for a student, more than pleasure at my accomplishments.  It was pleasure… pleasure looking at something you found beautiful. I myself was naïve – was this only last year? I was innocent to the look in your eyes. . I never even recognized it, until I realized it was what I myself felt.  ”
        Juri closed her eyes now, her hand clasping unconsciously at her
chest, where nothing lay any longer.  “You want nothing more than to take the object that radiated such innocence and wrap it to yourself, and protect the innocence, the beauty. Take pleasure in the innocence and beauty you yourself have lost.  “   She opened her eyes, staring down at him with the cold light of recognition. “Am I right?’
         Ruka could not meet her eyes. “You always were a perceptive student, Juri,” he admitted quietly.  And yet, the double meaning of her words still grated against his soul. So she still felt that way about Shiori?  After all this time?  Even after the pendant was ripped from her throat, she could not escape it.
 Her head was bowed now, in concentration, or merely to hide the expression on her face with her halo of golden curls.   He smiled sadly, wanting nothing more to draw her into his arms….. Ah, he did play the role of the hypocrite.
         He shrugged, feigning indifference. “Was that what you wished to know?”
Juri slowly raised her head to face him, willing the tears that threatened not to spill down her cheeks. So.. he did love her.  He all but said it, now, and now she bore that burden, that she did not return the emotion even when he was dying.
 “What can I say, now?”
        Ruka gritted his teeth.  He could fantasize of several wonderful possibilities, but he doubted the word love would grace her lips- and they were such prefect lips; he had been watching them as she spoke –  this day.
         Gently, she reached out and laid her hand on top of his, gripping his icy hand with her fingers.  “Gomen. Gomen nasai,” she whispered.
         Ruka trembled, the heat of her fingers searing him like a brand.  Quaking with the effort, he ripped his hand out from under hers, flinging her arm to the side. “Get out!” he snapped, his eyes blazing with fevored anger. “Just leave!”  Expending a mammoth amount of energy, he turned on his side, facing the heart monitor, his back facing her.
    Juri sat back, her jaw dropped.  He….must be kidding… wasn’t he? “Ruka?”
         Ruka folded his arms to himself, trying futility to quell the shivering pains that
wracked his body.  He opened his mouth, willing his words to be steady, sharp, cold – that’s right – every bit as icy as her heart – “I don’t want your goddamed pity, Juri. Just leave.”
        How could she… how could she torture him…. All he wanted to do was die in peace, and not this searing pain, sharper than any physical hurt, this ache in his chest….
        Shutting his eyes on the tears gathering from pain, he prayed she would turn and go. A long moment passed… he tasted wet salt on his lips…. And still, he felt her presence in the room, a silent angel waiting to take his last breath….  He drew a shaky one.
    “So….” He said, now coldly composed, rolling onto his back where he could look at her “…..so you’re not much better in these matters of the heart than your precious Shiori, are you?”
         Anger flared in her eyes like wind whipped flame. She lept to her feet, her hands balling into fists at her sides.
        Ruka stared at her a second, incredulously.   And then he laughed.  Peels of hysterical laughter reverberated through the steel-clad room.  Juri stood
her ground, glaring. “What will you do, Juri?  Hit me?”  He spread out his arms exposing his thin chest to her. “Go right ahead!  I promise you I’ll offer no resistance!”
         A nurse, hearing the noise, burst into the room. “What is going on here?” he
demanded crossly.  Bending a stern look on Juri, he said, “You’re going to have to leave, Miss.  He needs to be examined.”
 “How long?” she asked defiantly.
“An hour at least.”
“I will return then,” she said the tone more of a threat than anything else.
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 Juri peeked in the room exactly an hour later. No sign of doctors or nurses, she
stepped inside and lowered into the chair. “How was it?” she asked civilly.
         He smiled winningly.  “Not bad... they stuck a few more holes in me, but one of the tubes is gone. Overall I’d say I came out better for it.”
        “Good,” she replied as she shifted in her seat. They didn’t make these chairs to be comfortable, did they? “I didn’t wish that to be the last time we talked.”  It was an attempt at dark humor, but he didn’t find it amusing.
        “It may be, one of these times.  You’ll just have to learn to accept it.”
She deferred from lecturing him on this point.  Who was she to speak of pessimism. “I doubt our conversation last time was very helpful to you. I didn’t want to leave it like that.  What is it that you want from me?”
         Ruka tried not to smile.... oh he could think of all sorts of things.... not that she would comply but it was nice to entertain the fantasy for a moment.  Deciding not to take her question to its literal extent, he choose a safer topic area.                  “Encouragement I suppose. Perhaps not ripping your hand away everytime I reach for it would be thoughtful.”
         Juri, offering her hand, asked, “Encouragement? Of what sort?”
Ruka stared at her slender fingers a moment...... such a dutiful person wasn’t she, dutifully offering her hand to a dying man when he asked for it instead of reaching for his hand by her own will..... Deciding he should take what he could get while she was civil, he took her hand and settled back into the pillows of the bed.
        “ I don’t know.  Encouragement.  Like your little friend used to give you when you thought things were impossible.”
         Juri stared at him blankly. No. He couldn’t mean...... perhaps he meant Miki.
“Little.... friend?” she asked, her voice on the testy side of neutral.
         “Yes.” He smiled recklessly, knowing this would set her off, but he was more
careless now at the end of his life. “That friend of yours.... Ta....” He trailed off hopelessly, mischief in his eyes.
        “Takatsuki Shiori.”  Her tone as quiet as death, Juri’s eyes were as flat as slate.  If he was kidding, she was not entertained.  If he truly didn’t remember the name of the girl he just dated, she’d send him early to his grave.
         “Oh yes. That’s it. Her.” He looked at her, his bright teasing expression fading when he saw the thundercloud on Juri’s face.  “Juri.....” he twisted his fingers awkwardly in her iron grip.  “Juri that hurts.”
        “Gomen,” she said insincerely, dropping his hand like a dead fish.
“Of course,” he said dryly, rubbing his sore fingers and deciding he was better off trying not to hold Juri’s hand. “But didn’t she used to pray for the wishes you knew wouldn’t come true?”
         “She had no idea of my wishes at the time,” Juri muttered.  Why were they talking about Shiori?  Juri had hoped to avoid that sore subject so soon after the pendant had been ripped from her throat.  “What the hell does my situation have to do with yours?”
         Ruka stared at the pattern on his bedsheet a long moment.  Boring drab thing, was it not? “It’s just you do know my wishes, as she never did. You know I have little to stand on here but the well wishes of others.”
        Juri replied automatically, “I wish you well.” Certainly she did not wish him to die.
         Ruka sighed. “And nothing more than that? The obligation of a Duelist to another who is also bound to the Code of the Rose? A last formal farewell between teacher and student? Is that all that is here?”
         Juri sniffed. “You look for more?” After the way he abused Shiori to get to her....
and the way he treated her.... she was pleased with herself she could forgive him enough to admit she would miss him if he died.
         Ruka gazed over at the blue roses.  “No. I suppose anymore than that would be a miracle. And I know better than to ask you to pray for that, knowing the miracles I ask.”
         Juri sat a moment, considering.  Yes, he was talking here about his death.  But also her feelings for him; and that was more than she was willing to concede. “What good would it do to pray for something that does not exist?”
         Ruka sighed heavily, dismissing her words with a wave. “Not that old tune again.  You sound like a broken record.  Besides,  you’re only fooling yourself in what you believe and do not believe.”
         Juri crossed her arms. Eyebrows raised, her expression was suddenly very aloof. “And just who are you to decide what I believe and do not believe?” Bastard always was trying to crawl inside her head and dissect her soul.
         The man in the bed smiled in that dangerously knowing way of his. “Because I know you. I know you from the fencing team, I know about your younger life from your little friend who by the way talks about you constantly.  Believe in miracles, and they will know your feelings. Didn’t you say that?”
         Juri, gritting her teeth at the mention of Shiori again, took a moment to process what he had said. “Perhaps I did say that. When I was very young. But miracles.... are something children believe in.”
         Ruka shrugged, the knowing look becoming more malicious, more taunting. “I don’t know. You seemed willing to believe in them not long ago.”  He looked at her pointedly.
        Juri’s eyes became slits, suspicious. What did he know.... now? “How do you mean?”
    “’If this works..... it’ll be a miracle.’ Didn’t you say that, too, much more recently than your childhood?”
 Juri swallowed back on a throat suddenly dry. “So.... you were awake, then,” she
muttered, anger brushing her tone.  She had been betrayed by his closed eyes.
        “So it would appear.” He smiled in that highly satisfied, smug way of his.  So it hadn’t been all a pleasant dream of his. Arisugawa Juri’s face had been hovering over his.....
        Juri was seething internally.  Bastard. Of course Ruka was being as ingrating as he possible could about it. How stupid it was. Of course he had been awake. What nonsense to think there was something magical in that moment. Determined to take her wins where she could, she stated “That.... that was not a miracle, then.”
Ruka took her hand.
        “It felt like one to me.”  His tone was suddenly earnest, all joking gone out of it.
        On cue Juri snatched her hand back. “It wasn’t meant like that --”
“Then how, exactly, was I to interpret that?”
         Juri looked away, across the bed at the heart monitor.  At least his heart was steady.
“Some.... ah it was foolish of me.  Just something from a fairy tale I read when I was very young.”
         Ruka nodded sagely, watching conflicting emotions cascade across her flawless features.  How sad this was, that she couldn’t admit to the hope she held, something that made her so beautifully human and natural. “Oh I am familiar with the tale.  Did you honestly think -even for a moment- that you would kiss me and I would miraculously open my eyes and be healed?”
“No---”
    “I didn’t think it was in your nature to believe something like that. So. You didn’t believe in the cure of a kiss. Then why did you do it?”
        Juri made a dismissive noise. “This has nothing to do with miracles.”
         Before she could get away, he reached out and snatched her arm, her limb twisting in his grasp like an angry snake. “It has everything to do with them.  Either you believed in one, or you granted mine.”  His blue eyes blazing intensely, he shook her arm, forcing her to look him in the eyes.  “Tell me. Which miracle was it, Juri? The tale or the heart?”
         “Do you dare?” She ripped out of his grasp, practically snarling. “You always do this! Back people into a corner and manipulate them until they give you the answer you want.”
         “You never give me any choice! You never give me any answers of any sort!”  he snapped back.  Damn. They better quiet down or the nursing staff would be in here and throw Juri out. God what a shrew she could be at times.
         “Answers?  Fine.”  She folded her arms, glaring at him. “Miracles have no place in this conversation. I did it for my own reasons - and don’t flatter yourself presuming you know what they are.” The problem was, she didn’t exactly know the reasons herself, so how could he presume to know?
      Ruka winced as if she had physically struck him, then looked at her, his eyes savage, ravaging her across her face, searching for answers not to be found in that implacable mask.
“Is it so hateful for you to admit you might........” He looked away, giving a half hearted shrug.  “Never mind. Not that it matters now.  I did what I could. What you think of me will hurt me little once I’m underground.”
         Juri bit her lip, telling herself punching him would not be wise. Arguh, but he was so frustrating.... “I didn’t come here to hear you feel sorry for yourself.”  She crossed her arms and stood as if to go.
 “I’m not feeling sorry for myself.  I’m facing the truth, something you refuse to do.”
    She stopped, her back still to him, but at least listening to his words. “Honestly, I don’t know why you came here.  You refuse to let me rest in peace, you give me hope and then snatch it away in your last breath. And yet you won’t even bother to comfort me.”
         “Hope for what?  Life? Or something more?”  Her eyes burned with a challenge; he refused to look away.  She relinquished slightly. “You’re right. I won’t comfort you. You don’t need comfort if you live.” Her voice was tight with restraint. “I never came here wanting to see you for the last time.”
         “Well, it may be,” he muttered, resigned to his fate.
    Now she looked sharply at him over her shoulder, her curls bouncing she turned her head so fast, her words like small knives. “And which of us doubts miracles now, Ruka?”
         A moment he stared at her, absorbing the meaning of his words.  Then he
chuckled. “Touché. I’ll give you that match.”  She nodded solemnly and moved again towards the door. He caught her hand for about the fifth time, and she paused. “ Stay around a while, will you?  Maybe I will as well.”
         Juri smiled faintly, for once not pulling away.  The look was gone before she turned back around to settle into the chair.