Natsuki

Every so often I find myself looking back to the past. I try to understand it—revaluate it—as a way to figure out who I am. Even as I talk to you in the Student Council room while the two of us are surrounded—engulfed—by these heavy emotions, Shizuru, I can't help remembering my parents and the effect they left on me. Some of my earliest memories are of the laughter I shared with my mother when she'd turn away from her computer to play with me. My love of motorcycles comes from the rides my father would take me on despite my mother always scolding him about the dangers. My taste in music even comes from him. Some of my fondest memories are when my father would sit me on his lap and we'd listen to his records of British rock bands together. I remember the way he'd hum in my ear and the feel of his large hands around my own.

There is a sense of comfort that comes from these memories. In them I remember a home that no longer exists. After everything that's happened to me, I never got that sense back. At the same time, maybe I never had it. After all, as much as I miss those happy moments, I've never once wanted to return back to that time. Even when I was little, I saw the dysfunction in my beloved home.

I remember how my mother would sometimes look at me like I was a specimen to be studied. Even now, I get these ghostly pangs in my arms just recalling all the times she poked me with a needle. And as I got older, I noticed how my father began to keep his distance from me as if—and maybe he was—preparing himself for our inevitable separation. More than his face, I remember the slope of his back and the neat creases in the shirts he always ironed by himself. And whenever my memories of my family became too fond or I became too nostalgic for the life I could never return to, I'd remember all the nights that, terrified and unable to sleep through my parent's shouting, I would leave my bed and hide in the corner of my closet. I hoped that the extra distance would deafen the sound of my parent's voices and I would no longer hear them shouting my name.

I wonder sometimes about the circumstances of my birth. Knowing all that I do about the First District and the Carnival now, I wonder if my status as a HiME put our existence as a family in further jeopardy. Maybe that's why my mother sometimes seemed to looked through me as if she's staring out towards a future only she could see. Maybe that's why my dad wrote me off for dead long before I actually died. And maybe that's why when I woke up in a hospital bed and found myself all alone save for the beeps of machinery and the drips from the IV inserted into my arm—an oxygen mask over my face—I had almost been prepared. My first thoughts hadn't been to my parents, but to my dog. Duran was the only one who had been always by my side. It felt stranger to be without him than to be without my parents. I always had this nagging feeling about how transitory the world around me was and my hospitalization only proved me right. If I couldn't trust my own parents, if I didn't even have my own parents, who else was there? There was only me.

I remember the first thing I did after I regained the strength to walk: I went to the window and laid my hands on it. Even with the bandages wrapped around them, I could feel the coolness of the glass. It reminded me of where I was even though I felt more like a disembodied spirit, like I was on the outside watching in on this girl who had just lost her entire life. That girl whose appearance was reflected in that glass, she couldn't be me—could she? That broken and bandaged girl who had no one to turn to and nowhere to go just couldn't be me. Everything had felt alien like I had—and I had—lost everything that made me, well, me. What was it that tied me to this world? What reason did someone like me have to live?

It took months—years—and even now I'm trying to figure out the answers to those questions. Maybe that's why I keep going back to the past. It's so easy to let myself be a loose collection of former likes and dislikes, to just be the girl who drowned in the ocean alongside her mother and her dog and was all-but abandoned by her father. A girl who's held together only by the promise of vengeance. After all, even if my childhood had not been the happiest, it had been something. Something I could reference, something I could cling onto. It's much harder to figure out how to be a person in the present, someone who actually cares for what was happening around her. The past is resolute. The present and future are not. Everything keeps shifting and changing around me.

So I wonder—and I keep wondering—what does it mean to belong to someone and somewhere? What does it mean to connect to someone when you barely know who you are? What makes me Kuga Natsuki? And what makes you Fujino Shizuru?

"I'm scared," you confess as you cling so tightly to me like you're afraid I'll disappear. "I'm scared of myself. Of you. Of everything I've done and everything I'm going to do."

Aren't we all? I almost respond back to you but I hold back. You're holding so desperately onto me like you're afraid to lose not just me but something more. And I wonder—what was that something more? What can I do for you? And what is it about you, Shizuru, and the way that you cling onto me, that makes me so fiercely protective? I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around you and shield you away from the rest of the world. How can someone so strong also be so fragile? How can someone be so capable and yet so unsure?

This person in front of me—the one who veers back and forth from cold precision and overwrought anguish—I've seen this person so often these last few days that I've become familiar with the swings, the patterns, and the ways you seem to first react with fierce protectiveness only to sink into bitter despair. The only constant in all of this—the reason why the pendulum continues to swing back and forth—is me, isn't it? You keep returning back to me. Were you always like this? Did you always have these fears?

I don't want you to be afraid. I like—I remember—the you who was always smiling, the one who seemed to have an answer to every problem. But this person—this part of you—I know that she's also you. And when I glance down and see you still trembling in my arms, I wonder what I could do to help you. How I could reach you. Nothing comes to my mind but then I remember all the things you used to say to me when I was at my worst. Even though I came to you moody and unrepentant, violent and belligerent, you always saw through my tempers with a smile. You threw me off guard with your kindness and gently offered changes to my worldview. Maybe I could do that too After all, I too share the same fears.

And that's just it, isn't it, Shizuru? These feelings we have, the feelings that we share— maybe that's what makes us who we are and who we are to each other. These connections tie us to a specific moment, a specific feeling—a specific person. We decide which connections we value and we find ways to relate to one another using these shared experiences.

I spent most of my previous life trying to keep my past in my grasp despite the fact that everyone I was fighting for was dead or gone. But I haven't lost you, Shizuru, and I can tell by how furious your reactions have been that you don't want to lose me as well. All these struggles we had in the past few days—the constant tug of war between the two of us—maybe it has been the struggle of discovering how we can relate to each other once again. Our relationship has been irrevocably changed ever since we were resurrected in each other's arms. We have lost something precious yet we have also gained a different appreciation, a different way of looking at each other. I now can see you for who you are and not the person I thought you were. I can no longer downplay how important you are to my life, or how my actions have affected you. I know now how stupidly short-sighted I was in thinking that I was still alone when I had so many people around me.

The people around me—you're next to me now. My proximity to you is too distracting. The way your hair brushes against my cheek and the way you tremble against me makes me never want to let go. I'll never be able to say what I want to while I'm holding onto you so I break free from our embrace. I walk to the edge of the building. I can almost feel myself brimming with the same energy and confidence I had when I jumped down from here a couple days ago. I knew then, without any doubt, that I could summon my Child again. I have to say—

"It's terrifying. All this uncertainty is terrifying," I admit to both you and myself. All the changes we have gone through these last few months have greatly altered both who we were and who we once thought we were. I had to give up so many misconceptions I had: the belief in my mother; the vengeance I had against the First District; the misconceptions I had in my own capabilities. All this time I thought I was alone and tried to act alone—I realize now that I had so many people by my side. These realizations had traumatized me at first but I got over it and now, like Mai, I just have this. No—it's not just this—it is everything that's in front of me and all the possibilities and choices I have yet to make. All the things that I can make right. That includes you as well, Shizuru. Especially you. I've learned more about you in these last few days than I had in years and that's only because I started to care and really pay attention to your hopes and fears. I have to admit it has been terrifying, letting someone in so close but…

"But isn't that what makes it exciting?" I say. We now have the chance to try again. We now have the ability to change the course we once set; we can continue on with this strange evolution of this connection we have spent years working on. The things we thought were at the end were only a waypoint on this path to something more. I'm not sure exactly what that is yet, but I feel myself wanting to see where it goes.

After all, isn't that what it means to live? Isn't that how we move on from each phase of our life? Sure there's this great sadness—this lingering bitterness—about the things we lost, but what allows us to move forward is the desire to become better. To become more than what we once were, more than what we could be in the past, more than anything we could ever once conceive. I am not the same as the person I was before. Neither are you, Shizuru. The fact that you're struggling as much as I am means that we're both working towards something more than who we once were.

I watch the way the fear and confusion in your eyes shift to something that is apprehensive and confused. "What is exciting?" you ask.

"This. All of this, Shizuru," I reply before I take a step towards you. "This possibility for a new chance. To make things better."

"Even if I would do everything I did before?"

"You wouldn't," I say confidently. I'm ready for your response this time. "After all, I'm right here aren't I?"

You stare straight at me, your piercing eyes searching for any hint of deceit. You don't seem to find any because you blink and look away.

"Yes. You are here," you reaffirm. Your words are tinged in a tone that I don't understand. It's a mix of sadness and something more self-referential that hangs in the air with more weight than I can comprehend. Part of this must be due to the room we're standing in. There's so many memories here that it's overpowering. I am embolden by the determination that I felt when I first challenged you and you seemed to be wrapped in the same fluctuation of emotions. I walk towards you and lay my hand on your arm.

"Let's talk somewhere else."

I'm surprised that you follow me without an argument. I lead you down the stairs to the science room I passed earlier. When we enter, I walk towards the whiteboard. "I saw this on my way up. Were you working on it with the rest of the Student Council?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to destroy this too?" I ask, referring back to what you said earlier. "Everything you've come up with? All these plans?"

You pause for a moment before you say, "Yes."

The hesitation in your voice—you're unsure. I can't help breathing a sigh of relief. When you look at me with confusion I smile back at you. "That's not true, is it?" I say. I watch the way your eyes narrow before you take a step back from me.

"Natsuki doesn't approve of my plan," you mutter softly.

So it does really come back to me. Seriously Shizuru, you're really unfortunate to have chosen someone who barely knows what she's feeling to hinge all your emotions on.

"It's not that I don't approve. I just don't understand," I admit with a sigh. I think back to what caused our latest rift and say, "Last night, you didn't give me a chance to fully understand what you were saying before you locked me out."

"You rejected me."

"I didn't—you just didn't give me a chance to work it out for myself. You brought up something so unexpected that I was caught off guard. I spent years trying to overthrow the First District so of course I'm going to be shocked when you offer all the information that I ever wanted on them. You didn't even give me time to let it all sink in that they still existed or what they could want from us, or what role they're going to play now."

You frown but otherwise say nothing so I continue:

"Maybe I shouldn't have responded that way but I didn't have time to think it through. It was a huge shock to me like…like back then in the garden."

The moment I brought up that night Suzushiro and Yukino snuck up on us, your eyes darken and your face becomes impassive. I'm prepared for your response so I'm able to grab your arm before you can turn away.

"It took me a while to understand. But I'm still here. Aren't I?" I insist, keeping my grip firm so you couldn't avoid my gaze. "I won't run away so...so don't run away from me either, Shizuru."

That's it, I realize. I'm not the only one that's run away. You have too. You've also been running away. You're used to handing out half-truths, of only revealing bits and pieces of yourself, and every time that you really expressed yourself you were ready to run away in fear of the reaction you would get. All this time, I wasn't the only one who was pretending to be someone I am not.

When your eyes finally meet mine, you seem to stare straight through me before your eyes focus and glimmer with all the emotions you once tried to hide.

"Yes," you concede.

"So help me understand. Can't you give me a chance before you just assume how I'm going to react?"

You close your eyes and I let go of your arm. When they open again there's something there that's unsure and hopeful, repentant and unyielding.

"I'm sorry, Natsuki."

Something about the way you said those words makes me angry. "I don't want your apologies!" I almost shout, "I just want…I just want you to give me a chance."

And just like that all my bravado escapes and I feel completely unsure.

"A chance for what exactly?"

Urgh. That's just the question isn't it? I've been skirting around this point since the Carnival, going out of my way to avoid it. So of course you're going to cut straight through all my bullshit. You really don't play fair, Shizuru.

I guess it all does come down to this decision I have yet to make, this answer I have to find for myself. I've spent most of this week pursuing this answer, chasing after you without exactly knowing why. All I had was this urgent feeling—this premonition or something just as wispy—that I couldn't let things between us grow cold with the passing of time. From all that I've seen and all that I have learned in this past year, I have come to appreciate how important relationships between people are. How one person plays off the other, how the words a person says can evoke feelings in another—these things have power to change and affect our lives for the better or for the worst. We build connections through empathy and communication, our lives are made meaningful by the people we have in it. So what do I communicate to you who has so severely affected my life? You who I attribute so much meaning to; you who has made me laugh, cry, get angry and get scared—you who has somehow became the person closest and most precious to me. I think back to my conversation with Mai.

"I want a chance to…to figure out what my feelings are. I really care about you, Shizuru. I just don't know what that means yet."

Air escapes your lips that sounds like something in between a gasp and a sigh. Your burgundy-colored eyes widen. Your legs seem to give way and you sink down to your knees and bury your head in your arms.

"Shizuru?" I ask in concern.

"I never expected you to say that," you say shakily, your body trembling the same way as your muffled voice.

"Why did you push me to say it then? Idiot."

"Perhaps I am an idiot," you mumble before you lift your head. I can see tears in your eyes.

I let out the sigh I had been holding before I sit beside you. We're both quiet as we sort through our thoughts. I'm trying to catch up with my own words and I can't even imagine what you're feeling. Not knowing what to do, I focus in on the sound of your uneven breath as I fiddle with the laces on my light purple sneakers. I remember buying them earlier this year with you, before the start of my first year in high school. My favorite color is blue but I ended up getting this pair because I caught a glance of you staring wistfully at them. Maybe you wanted them, but didn't think it fit your image, I don't know. But when I hastily grabbed them before marching my way to the front of the store, I couldn't help feeling something within me stir when I saw the surprised look on your face.

You said before, multiple times through the years even, that you were always thinking about me. Maybe in my own way I've been thinking about you? I mean, at the whole start of this HiME thing, back when I didn't know you were also one, I made the decision to make sure you never got involved in the fighting. I didn't want to see you get hurt. There was something about the idea of you getting hurt for my sake that deeply unsettled me. I already lost my parents. I didn't want to lose another person. So when you showed up that night standing on the same cliff my mother drove off of, even when I felt completely numb to my own circumstances, something within me stirred with panic and concern for you. And looking at you now, so small and curled into yourself, a similar feeling wells inside of me. What does it mean?

"Are you ok with this, Shizuru?" I ask, not sure of what else to say. When you look up, I almost recoil at the intensity of your gaze. So many emotions seem to pass through you: anger, resentment, fear, hope. All at once they seem to flicker and burn. It takes everything in me to keep from flinching. I said I would be here for you, that I would support you. I can't turn away now.

You then close your eyes and lean your head against the wall. I'm struck by the motion of how your chestnut colored bangs brush up against your forehead and the side of your face. I watch in fascination as your once unshed tears fall and the way they travel alongside the slope of your cheek. There's something there that transfixes me, and makes my eyes trace the arc of your nose, your upturn chin, and the long expanse of your neck. Maybe it's because you suddenly look so vulnerable and…and then you open your eyes. It feels like you're looking right into me and seeing all that I am. And what I see…what is it that I see?

"Why?" you ask.

"Mm?" I say distractively. I'm more focused on the tears on your cheeks than the words you spoke to me.

"Why do you care about me?" you repeat.

I'm not too sure what to say. I'm still mesmerized by your expression and instead of answering you, I find myself reaching out, towards your face, and we both jump when my fingers make contact with the corner of your left eye. Your skin is so soft against my fingertips, and I can't help marveling as I have done before at the sensation. I know I can be clumsy and my manner is more than a little coarse, but there's something about being around you that makes me feel hyper aware of myself. It's hard to describe. It's like this weird pitter-patter in the bottom of my stomach that also curls and rumbles into itself. I feel so incredibly aware that I'm also a girl; that I'm like you. In this moment, and many like this that we've had recently, I find that there's this thing that I share with you and no one else. Like a secret or something so precious that no one else is allowed to breech. This space between us is sacred and for us and us alone.

My fingers brush up against the path of your tears and I follow them downwards, wiping the trail away in the process. My thumbs then reach up to wipe the tears that have yet to fall. I do this softly, gently, like I'm afraid to break this delicate moment. I am compelled to repeat the motion on the other side and, once I've done so, I realize that I'm cupping your face with my hands.

I don't think I'll ever forget the way you look in this moment, Shizuru. It's so raw and vulnerable, like I can read every line on your face and all your fears. Unlike that time in the church, after we'd both returned to life, you now look hopeful and unsure, like you don't know whether or not you have permission to be happy. To me, you've never looked as beautiful and real as you did in this moment. So in this moment, I do the only thing I can think to do: I lean forward and kiss you.

I'm greeted once again by the softness of your lips. The fullness and wetness of them feels even better than what I remembered. Our close proximity makes the smell of your perfume much stronger; it envelops me in this comforting sensation that I don't ever want to part ways from. I close my eyes so I can focus on this feeling. I can still feel you trembling so I press forward, leaning further into the kiss to comfort you. Your lips tremble against mine so I press even further, almost daring myself to see how long this connection can last.

Eventually I can feel your tension subside and then you're kissing me back. Your head tilts as you change the angle of our contact. Everything about the kiss on your end is so tentative and hesitant, hazy like a fog. I can feel your hands on my forearms and the way you grip them in support. The desire to reassure you wells in me so I shift and readjust myself until my arms are wrapped around your waist and you have no choice but to find another place for your hands. You settle for wrapping them around my neck and my heart seems to pound even faster at our closeness.

The moment breaks when my brain catches up with my body. Blood rushes to my face and ears as I realize what I've done.

"I…um, so, that—does that answer your question?" I stutter. You take one look at me before you start laughing.

"You really are too much, Natsuki," you say as you wipe your wayward tears away. "You really are too much."

"I could say the same to you, Shizuru," I mutter before I shakily stand up. For some reason my knees feel as if they could collapse under me at any moment. I wring the collar of my hoodie as if it'll stop my elevated heart rate.

You look at me again as if you're seeing me for the first time. Just the way you're looking at me, with your head tilted to the side and your gaze passing through your bangs, makes me shiver for some reason. I've felt the heat of your gaze before, but this is the first time I've seen it so openly.

"I…can I kiss you again?" you ask. Your gaze is at once curious and questioning, as if you're looking to confirm something. I'm embarrassed but just the way you're looking at me—so hopeful and desperate— makes me want to say yes. I turn my head away before I shyly nod.

You move forward. I can feel my heart jump when you enter my personal space. Because I'm still looking away, you wrap your arms around my waist and press a gentle kiss to my cheek. The sensation is so sweet that I can't help but face you. Warmth fills me. And I...I…

It's with open eyes that I watch as you take a step even closer to me and I see the way you descend upon me once more. It reminds me a little of my dreams back in the garden, the way you descend, and once again I focus in on your lips and the redness of your cheeks. But the way you kiss me, so sweet and gentle, it's nothing like my nightmares. It makes my knees buckle. You support me easily in your arms, and back us towards the teacher's desk. Finding the support and another burst of energy, I sit down and pull you closer to me until I can feel the swell of your chest against mine. Your hands are brought down to the desk as you lean so close to me that the only thing I can see is you. All of you. Only you, Shizuru. Something about the moment clicks and the gentle kiss we share becomes something more searching; something more hungry. I'm suddenly aware of your placement between my legs as you press deeper into the kiss. My gasp gives you ample opportunity to slide your tongue into my mouth and I shudder at the way it coaxes mine with every lap and curl.

There's something so maddeningly illogical about this whole thing. Is this what I want? Is this what you've always wanted? Is this what love is? Something so powerful and earth shattering that it just makes me want to throw myself into the brink of something so beyond myself, something so far away yet so near that it makes me want to just shudder and cry. These emotions keep clashing and crashing into each other as each wave of sensation that you bring out of me—that we bring out of each other—seems to break free from any logical boundaries I could ever think of. Something that is all at once so sweet and so violent, selfish and selfless, something that I doubt I'll ever find words to fully describe. Is this what you've felt for me all this time, Shizuru? The way you press your body into me, the way I cling and find myself pinned against you, the way your lips and tongue dance with mine… I feel like I'm falling into you, losing myself into you.

When you pull back with a gasp, I can see your dilated eyes. The hungry expression in them makes me want to pull you back so I can lose myself in the sensations once more. I want more, I realize as I try to catch my breath. Is this how you've thought of me? How you've wanted me?

My expression must mirror yours with the way you're looking at me now with your head tilted, like I'm part of an equation you haven't finished solving. A mischievous smile then appears on your lips.

"Natsuki?" you ask.

"Yeah?"

"May you please release me?"

"Huh?" I blink before I follow your gaze downwards. My legs are wrapped around your waist. Oh. I sheepishly laugh before I unlock them. My blush deepens.

Now that you've been released, you straighten your back and your hands leave my side. Beyond that, however, you make no efforts to adjust your proximity so I'm forced to look up at you. You lick your lips and I distractively find myself following the movement and mirroring the action.

"While I will certainly not complain about this turn of events, may I ask what caused this change?" you ask. In my still foggy mind I can't help thinking how oddly formal you sound. You stopped talking like that to me years ago.

"Um…" I say, still unable to clear my head. The only thing I can really think about where you're standing and how the proximity is causing my brain to frazzle.

You giggle before you lean down and place your hand on my forehead. "Are you feeling unwell, Natsuki?" you tease. You then smile and whisper in my ear, "Do you want me to make you feel better?"

That's enough to snap me out of my stupor. You've taunted me so much over the years that my response is instantaneous: I push you away. You laugh good-naturedly and back off.

"Shizuru," I complain before I self-consciously smooth my skirt over. I would've stood up but my legs still feel like jelly. I cross them instead while I try my best not to think about where you stood before.

"Well?" you press.

"I…uh…I didn't know what else to do. I mean, when you look at me like that what am I supposed to do?"

"When I look at you like what?"

"Like you're going to break any moment but all you can do is just look at me…look out for me," I say, regaining enough clarity to remember the conversation we had before. "All those times, every single time I've tried, I couldn't find the words to reply to you, repay you for everything you've done for me. So instead of saying something I just did the first thing I could think of."

"And that was to kiss me in repayment?"

Something about your wording causes alarms to ring in my head.

"No!" I insist. "Not like that! I'm not repaying you, I mean, I want to comfort you but it's not just for you. When I look at you I just feel something flooding in me and I didn't know what else to do. It just felt right. And I wanted to so..."

As I babble, you sit down next to me. You lay your head against my shoulder.

"Does it bother you when I do things like this?" you ask as you weave your arm around mine.

"A little. But it's not bad," I confess. "I just want us to be happy, Shizuru."

"I also would like for you to be happy."

"And what about you?" I press.

"Sometimes I wonder whether or not I have that right. I have done so many things. And I have so many regrets."

"I've also done horrible things. So what can we do?" I ask as I interlace my fingers with yours. "What can we do to move on?"

"I want," you begin before you falter. The grip you have on my hand tightens. You look like you want to embrace me once more but you stop yourself. You instead let go of my hand and stand up.

And what I see is that right here, right before me, is a girl who looks so young and unsure. She stands before me with her shoulders still trembling from all her tears. But I've also seen how imposing the shadow she casts on this world is and how dangerously those red eyes of hers could glow in the absence of light. This is a girl who is a contradiction—someone who clashes furiously against the boundaries of what is expected of her—someone who is just like me in that she is as burdened to her past as I am. We're both struggling against those confines—against those boundaries—of who we are and who we want to be. But maybe—just maybe—we can break free of our repetitious despair and limp towards something more together. Together…I really like the sound of that.

I know what I need to do. So I stand up and declare:

"Shizuru, I'm going to help you."