Unmasked Raccoon

"D-do you need some more tea?"

I gaze at the small teacup I'm holding in my left hand. I suppose I did drink all of it. "If you insist, then yes, please."

Yuri places a bookmark in her book and sets it beside her on the couch, delicately pouring me a small dose of jasmine tea and setting the teapot back on its coaster on the coffee table. I accept the cup from her slender hand, blow on it gently, and take a small sip. Piping hot, yet delicious as usual. Yuri takes a sip from her own teacup and grabs the book again, opening it to the page we were at before. I scoot a bit closer and lean into the back of the couch, peering at the words over her shoulder.

It's the second time I've been over at Yuri's house. We finally managed to finish the science project that brought me here in the first place. I remember back before the Literature Club when I didn't even realize we were in the same science class. I suppose it's a testament to how much both of us pay attention to anyone else. The first time I arrived I was astounded by how clean and orderly everything was in her house. The furniture was ornate with every throw pillow bringing something fresh and new to the chairs in the living room that they rested on. The walls were decorated with seemingly historic paintings, some detailed portraits and some elaborate landscapes. Ambient classical music emitted from a speaker installed in the ceiling, and the subtle scent of lavender disseminated throughout the house. When I brought up the meticulous organization the first time, she smiled and said that she had a system. "Feng shui," she called it. I Googled it when I got home, but I didn't get it at all. At least she does.

Yuri turns to the next page of her book, seemingly engrossed in it. I take another sip of tea from the tiny cup, then set it on the table. I set one hand on the book, trying to read the words better, and without a second thought she lets me hold half of it, just as we had done that first day of the club. From what I can grasp, it's a fantasy book that has less focus on the typical valiant knight saving a princess from a cliché dark wizard. Instead, it focuses on the corruptness of the authority and the struggles of the normal citizens as they experience famine and poverty. It's a very curious perspective, and I can tell that Yuri enjoys it. She underlines a word in the book with her fingernail. It's a word that I've never seen before, and I couldn't possibly imagine what it means. Maybe she doesn't know either.

She turns the page again, and it flutters on top of my thumb. I barely notice, and I stare in the same spot in the book that I was before. "U-uhm… Are you… Did you space out again?" Yuri shyly murmurs next to my ear. "The page…"

I come to my senses, lifting my thumb from under the page she turned and clamping it under. "Sorry, I was just… thinking about stuff."

"What sort of stuff do you mean?" Yuri inquires.

I turn to look at her, and I realize that for this whole small exchange she's been looking at me. Our eyes meet, and I feel my heart flutter slightly at the sight of her deep, violet eyes. "Well, I was just thinking about that side plot with the carpenter's family, and if they… If they, uhhh… Will have anything to…"

I trail off, my thoughts lost in her gaze. We were leaning against each other as we read, yet only now do I recognize her warmth. I notice her chest rising and falling. Is it… accelerating? I feel my heart beat a little faster, as I imagine hers is as well. Her breathing seems to quicken as she looks into my eyes. I can't exactly tell what her eyes are saying to me, but it feels almost like a deep longing… A strong desire for… something. Her breathing has definitely become heavier and quicker now, as if she's trying to hold something back. Several beads of sweat form on her cheek and forehead. It almost seems like her eyes, her entire face has gotten just a little bit closer. I look into her eyes, my mind droning out the classical music and accentuating the gentle lavender scent, the gentle Yuri scent…

Yuri suddenly looks away, closing the book promptly. "I-I'm sorry… You… You really need to go." She stands up abruptly, taking the teacups and pot in her hands. "I'll take care of the project."

I stand up obediently, gathering my things and stuffing them into my backpack. "Did I… Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did, Yuri, I didn't mean to…"

Yuri keeps her back to me. "Just go," she says, her voice slightly shaky. "You did nothing wrong. Just go home. I'll see you tomorrow." She quickly grabs something that I can't make out from the kitchen and hastily enters her room, nearly slamming the door behind her.

I walk out of the room, my mind in a whirlwind. Was it because I was staring? I really didn't mean to. Was it the book? Did she just need to make dinner? Yuri seemed to be in such a rush to get me out of the house… And come to think of it, she did something similar last time as well.

My mind plucks something seemingly random from the depths of my memory. My notebook. I think she took it into her room while she was gathering her papers for the project, just to make sure she had the correct information. I enter her house once more and knock on her bedroom door. "Hey, Yuri? I forgot my notebook. Could you fetch it for me?"

There's no direct response. The classical music is now off, and I can hear heavy, labored breathing from within the room. Worry suddenly overtakes me. God, I hope she isn't hurt or something. I'd never hurt her. She's too fragile. Her loud breathing exacerbates. I can't help myself. I grasp the doorknob in my hand, turn it, and open the door.

I can barely make out the details, as the only light that shines into the room is that from the doorway and the shaded bedroom window. What I can manage make out, however, is Yuri. She kneels atop her quilted bed, back turned to the door, her hair obfuscating her features. She inhales deeply, exhales erratically. Her left sleeve is pulled up, revealing the pale skin that lurks beneath. Piercing through the darkness, the glint of a knife reflects the little sunlight that emerges through the window, and it's slowly brought to her forearm. Her breathing accelerates still, labored to the point of deafening in the surrounding silence.

"Y…Y-Yuri?"

Yuri gasps loudly and whirls her head around. She immediately tries to cover her forearm, and the knife flies out of her hand. The tip of the knife barely nicks her skin, and I see a pinprick of crimson contrast on her pale arm. Her breathing weakens, yet picks up its already rapid pace. Our eyes meet for several seconds, and hers seem to be trembling with distress, with shock, with fear. She attempts to break the silence but is barely able to form the words.

"I-I… It's not… It's not what it looks like…"

I stare at her in utter astonishment. What I had just seen wasn't a Yuri I had ever seen before. It was almost… feral. I take a step back. "I… Yuri, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Please, don't… It's not what it… It's not… Please…" Yuri stammers, choking on her words.

I'm left completely speechless. I wasn't meant to see this. Nobody was ever meant to see anyone do this. I slowly close the door, hoping she'll be alright if I leave her alone.

I hear sobbing from the other side of the closed door.

I open the door again to see Yuri's head held in her hands, her deep purple hair once again shrouding her complexion. She sobs uncontrollably into her hands, her entire body shaking. Her sleeve is still rolled up, and a thin river of blood trickles down her arm, slowly dripping onto the quilt. My mind isn't sure how to respond to the mess that she's descended into after such a brief moment. Taking a deep breath, I approach the disheveled girl and sit beside her on the bed. Her weeping worsens.

"Yuri, I'm really sorry… I had no idea, I didn't mean to disturb you…" Her crying becomes marginally more frantic. I have no idea if she can even hear me. "It's okay, Yuri, I'm still here… Don't cry…"

I try to wrap my arms around her in a cautious embrace. She doesn't move from her already distraught state. Her stammered breathing and sobbing turns into tearful hyperventilation. I don't know if what I'm doing is right. I hug her shaking body tighter, scared for myself and scared for her.

I glance over at the knife that lies on the bed. It's unimpressively plain, with no fancy engravings on it whatsoever; just an ordinary kitchen knife completely unlike the work of art she brought to my house a few weeks ago. The little bit of blood on the tip drips onto the quilt, leaving a tiny red stain. I notice how faded the quilt is, as if it's been washed many times over.

Yuri is now in hysterics. Her entire body convulses with each sob, and she's unable to control the torrent of tears dumping from her eyes. I can almost hear her trying to form words, but it's hard to discern such attempts from the senseless bawling of a banshee. She's breaking down completely, and I have no idea how to keep her from collapsing. Tears start to form in my eyes as well. Is this what happens when you catch a raccoon eating? Or am I witnessing the horrors of starvation? As I hold her closer, I know that I have to try something.

I grab her forearm and clamp my fingernails deep into her flesh. Yuri's jaw clenches, her sobs seething through her gritted teeth. I can feel my fingernails leaving marks on her thin, fragile skin. Her breathing becomes long and drawn out as her sobs abate ever so slightly.

Yuri shudders and leans into me slightly. Her tears stain the quilt below her face. Her mouth tries forming words, and she gasps for air between her sobs. Eventually, something shaky but intelligible leaves her lips.

"D-don't… Don't… Don't go…P-please…"

"It's okay, Yuri," I say to her softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

She shudders and mumbles. "I… I'm s-sorry… I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I…"

"Don't be sorry, Yuri. You… You did nothing wrong. I'm just… confused, I guess."

Several minutes pass. I loosen the iron grip my fingernails have on her arm. I glance down. The area around the punctures is red like a rash, and the gouges made ooze a tiny bit of blood. But not much. Just enough. Yuri's soft sobs still echo through the house, through my mind, ringing with haunting melancholy. Yuri takes her hand and wipes her tears from her face, though they still flow. She rests her hand on the bed next to my knee, supporting herself. She parts her lips, and a croaky voice emerges from within her damaged self.

"I… Sometimes, when m-my feelings become intense, or… or my brain feels h-hot… I lose c-control of myself, and I… I don't know how to calm down…" She inhales sharply and exhales laboriously. "I… I get really scared that… That I'll h-hurt someone, and I… I'd rather hurt myself th-than those who I care about… People like… like…" Her voice trails off as her tears overtake her once more, though her weeping has grown more delicate now. No longer are her eyes salty hydrants or her mouth a shrieking, babbling mess.

I gently stroke her hair with my free hand, and after a few seconds I speak carefully. "Have you… Have you hurt someone before because of your emotions? I'm sorry if I'm prying too much… This is hard for me, too…"

Yuri slowly nods her head. "I… I h-haven't seen her in… In three years…" She chokes up a little bit. "I… I-I trusted her… more than anyone…"

I hold her tighter, bringing her head to my chest. I know exactly what it's like to lose a friend. Especially when it ends violently. I let go of her arm completely, since her breathing has largely returned to normal, though a few tears still run down her cheeks.

I finally speak up. "Do you… Do you remember the poem you wrote about the raccoon a few weeks ago?" Yuri responds with a nod. I continue. "I… I think I finally understand it. What it meant. It has always kind of unnerved me, thinking about it, but… Yuri, I really think you might need help with this."

Yuri slowly turns her head and looks at me. Stray strands of hair are stuck to her face in various places, and her eyes tremble. Salty tears stain her rosy cheeks, and her lip quivers slightly. She says nothing, though if her eyes are trying to tell me something, I can't understand it.

"Yuri, this… This isn't a hobby. It's a habit. A habit that I can tell is hurting you deep inside. Seeing you hurt like that… It hurts me, too. But instead of hurting yourself to try and not hurt others, I know there exists a way for nobody to be hurt. Do you understand me?"

Yuri's eyes look at mine. She nods. "I just… I'm scared… Really scared…"

I stare back into her eyes and hold her tighter. "Don't worry, Yuri. I'm here. I'll fight this with you. We can catch the raccoon together, I know it. We just have to find the right tools to do it."

Yuri sniffs some tears back into her eyes. "Th-thank you…"

We stay silent for a long time, with our eyes locked. I understand what her eyes are telling me after a while. They're filled with fear, remorse, regret… Hatred and pain… Yet, there lingers hope and salvation, and… Longing…

Her breathing begins to quicken, and her face moves closer to mine, so slowly so that it's nearly unnoticeable. The fear in her eyes makes her irises tremble as she stares into my eyes, almost as if she's staring at something beyond them. Her heart beats faster, and I can feel her pulse quicken as I hold her. Yuri suddenly grabs my hand and places it on her forearm, the fear in her eyes becoming dominant. Without a word, I squeeze my fingernails into her arm, softer than before yet still firmly. She doesn't flinch, but she blinks once. I can feel her pulse slow down and her body lose tension. A slight smile forms on her lips. I smile back as warmly as I can.

I let go of her arm and get up off of the bed. "I… I'm sorry, but I really have to go… I have things to do at home."

Yuri shakes her head quickly, and her eyes widen a little as her gaze is broken. Her voice seems largely returned to normal. "Oh, uhm… That's f-fine, okay… I still have work to do myself. I'm… I'm sorry for wasting so much of your time here…"

I smile at her and grab my notebook from her desk, stuffing it into my sack and throwing it over my shoulder. "It wasn't a waste of time at all, Yuri. It was… Important. Even you know that." She grins and nods in response.

I open her bedroom door once more and turn back one last time. "We'll try and find you a therapist or something tomorrow, okay? I'll ask Sayori about hers in the meantime, just for a sense of direction."

Yuri waves. "A-alright. I'll… I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I wave back and close the door behind me, walking out of her house and onto the sidewalk. The whole way home, I can't stop thinking about Yuri. What her eyes told me. And what my eyes may have told her.

Yuri sighs and gets off of her bed. The knife is still on the bed, the blood having dripped off. She takes a deep breath and grabs the handle, walking to the kitchen and tossing it into the sink. She drifts back to her room and looks at the collection of ornate knives on the wall. All but a few are free of stains, as most of them have always been. She takes one in particular from its resting place. It's from a bazaar she encountered on a trip to the southern end of the country, and it's engraved with a pattern of waves. It's the one she brought with her to help with festival decorations. It's the one she stained. She sighs, shakes her head, and sets it back. "I won't be as weak as to stain the art on my wall," she thinks to herself. "It would hurt them as much as it would hurt me." She sits at her desk, turns on a lamp, and grabs a piece of paper and a pen. Through her eloquent diction and trademark allegories, she designs her very own raccoon trap.