A/N: Thanks. I'm not exactly sure how much in terms of improvement you'll get, this entire story was already written and I'm just reposting it, but hopefully I did improve as I went on. And when I first began working on this, many of the works of Go Nagai helped shape it. Mizuki herself has a bit of Jun Fudoh from Devilman Lady in her. Specifically, her plainness.
But I started work on this nearly a year ago, and I know I pushed myself hard over the course of this. It was also my first foray in first person narratives since third grade... which seems so long ago now... partly because it is.
And in regards to the tense changing, I do admit I sometimes jump between past and present. The only justification I can really give is that I imagined the people describing what they did as they did it in their minds, occasionally jumping into first person when they are mentally screaming at themselves to do something. Maybe that shouldn't be done, though.
Anyways, chapter 2.
The light
Morning was nice, it usually was. My apartment’s perfectly situated, so I wake each morning -when my schedule permits it- with the rising Sun.
I live by myself… I have for quite a long time. Ever since my family died, I guess.
“Their fate was to die,” Loretta had said. “[/i]I couldn’t get here in time… there must have been a reason. I presume it deals with you, Minako Yuki.[/i]”
She never adopted me, instead making me sign the papers to be legally emancipated. She said it was my destiny, things she could not interfere with or control.
Sometimes, I wonder if Miss Brauner simply uses that an excuse to do whatever she wants. Usually I realize that would be impossible… she never asked for having to move here, to be my mentor.
I feel sorry for her, sometimes. I wish there was something I could do for her.
I got ready like usual before heading down to the lobby and doing some stretches. Considering how much I need to run around M-- for various reasons, I train constantly for sprinting and long-distance running. I enjoy it… the rush you get provided you breath correctly and run at the right pace is amazing. Scientists used to say we only used a little piece of our mind’s potential… but it turns out they were wrong. Funny thing is, though, humans don’t breath very efficiently, or at least that’s what that one martial arts series said.
Fate taught me how to breath, inhale and exhale, to bring out 100% of my body’s capabilities… I guess that’s one of the reasons I’m good at track. Well, Soma always helps me run.
Knowing that a familiar face and a little comfort might be nice for Mizuki after her “recruitment”, I stopped by the Rajoshin Shrine. Knocking on the door, I waited for a moment. Mizuki quickly came into view, looking rather surprised.
“Oh, it’s you.”
“Well, of course!” I answered. “Do you mind it I come in for a moment?”
Mizuki smiled, moving out of the way. “No, go right ahead. I was just ready to get some breakfast.”
“Thanks.”
We ate quietly, and I realized Mizuki wasn’t going to be asking any questions like I had when I became a Celestial Warrior. That just meant I’d have to ask the questions again.
“So… how did you sleep?”
“What?”
“Oh, you know. It’s like how you go to bed after a surprising day and wake up, and wonder if it’s all a dream! So, did you-”
“I didn’t sleep last night.”
“What?”
“I didn’t sleep. When something happens like it did yesterday, sleep is the last thing on your mind. I stayed up, thinking.” She laughed, but as if she was amused by her own inferiority. “I still haven’t been able to grasp any of what happened, you know that? I mean… you saved my life. I understand that, and believe me, I’m forever in your debt. But everything else… it’s just so surreal.”
“You’ll get over it,” I said comfortingly, resting a hand on her shoulder. “So… what’s your first class for today?”
“Literature… with Brauner.”
“Oh, you’ll love Fate!” I smiled, Mizuki looking at me in surprise. “She’s an expert in Japanese and foreign works, and she takes a wonderful approach to our required readings… realist stuff, all in all.”
“What about the idealist stuff, you know, to give people the resolve for a better life?”
“Oh, she has a suggested reading list for that…” I grabbed her hand, “Come on, let’s go!”
She probably thought it was surprising that somebody was so concerned about her, she must have had a terrible life. Not anymore, I’d save her. I promised myself I would.
“And that’s the Fashion Club over there,” I pointed to my left to a group of five girls chatting together. “Natassia Kamiyu, Isabelle Straffi, Asuka Kabuto, Yoko Balnada, and Camilla Renard.”
“They’re foreigners?” Mizuki asked.
“Yeah. All except Asuka, she’s the president. Yoko’s half-Japanese, but her family moved from the West Coast of the United States.”
Sensing her name being mentioned, Yoko looked up. Her hearing was as sharp as a Jackal’s, and she immediately spoke to the others, who noticed me and walked over.
“Are you on speaking terms with them?” Mizuki asked, dreading what was going to happen.
“Of course!” I answered.
The jewel
“So…” I began, quickly sizing up the tall woman next to Minako, “You’re Rajoshin, no?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “And you’re…?”
“Asuka Kabuto,” I said while flashing a dazzling smile to her before moving a few strands of my reddish-hair out of my face. I found it odd that her hair length was about the same as mine, even matching my natural color.
Of course, a little dye had solved that problem long ago. Isabelle had tried to cut me out of the group, claiming I was copying her natural hue, but I didn’t care. A week later, we were back on speaking terms and she was back where she was supposed to be. Yoko, Natassia and Camilla had backed me up too… that made it all the better.
“I’m not sure if you know this or not,” I continued, “But we try to keep the operations in the school running
smoothly. You know, keeping the Student Government focused on key issues, organize events and-”
“Not interested,” Mizuki said as she turned and walked away.
“I’m sorry. You haven’t heard our offer yet.”
“Does it matter? I’ve heard it before,” Mizuki continued on, leaving Minako stunned speechless. Camilla and the others, though, were silent for an entirely different reason… to keep Mizuki digging her own grave. “Student organizations frequently form their own twisted hierarchy. I met five girls like you from before, at C--. Their request was simple: I keep my hand out of the orchard so I don’t spoil the whole harvest, and they throw me a few apples after they’ve gotten their share. They did it all the time to people at C--.
“And I’m actually one of the lucky ones. You should’ve seen what they did to this one guy named Shingo… One girl started a rumor and it spread like wildfire. Out of courtesy, I’m not going to say what it was about. Her father was a big-wig on campus there, and so even when everything she said was lying, nothing happened to her. Shingo and his whole family, on the other hand, had to leave the county, their reputation, their lives, forever shattered.”
She was standing a few feet away from us, tall and proud, her back to us. Rajoshin certainly had a flair for the melodramatic.
Turning around, she looked me dead in the eye and finished her nice little speech. “I’ll do whatever I want. That’s what life is all about.” She turned again and walked off to her first class, leaving the six of us to scoff at her actions.
“I’m sorry…” Minako said as she looked at us. “I was just trying to show her around, she needs a friend and she must be so alone-”
“Then you’d better correct her line of thought,” Isabelle commanded to Minako. Isabelle was somebody I truthfully didn’t like that much… but the others loved her. She was Italian, blue eyes, long and flowing hair like fire, an attitude to match, and a body the rest of us would kill for. She also was the one that dealt mostly with the student government, since even the hint of a date from her would cause pretty much any man to do whatever she wanted. And if she kissed you, she pretty much had reduced you to clay that she could and would shape in any way she wanted.
“I… I will…” Minako stuttered. I felt sorry for her, in a way. Isabelle had just given her an ultimatum that had the potential to kill her professional track career, at the very least. She was a good person, for the most part.
“I don’t know…” sighed Camilla. “Things might be problematic if this keeps up. And if Kirishima sees you with her…” she shivered, “Things won’t be pretty.” That was Camille, always the smart one. She always wore pink… anybody else and it would’ve gotten old fast… but she always found a way to breath life into her fashion style. Her curly brown hair was offset by beautiful green eyes, and it were those eyes that showed she always was thinking ahead.
“Kirishima… that’s one girl we don’t want to have Rajoshin meet…” Yoko groaned. Unlike the rest of us who always chose dresses, she chose more masculine clothes. Today was a black dress pants and a black shirt, with a red vest over it. However, it worked with her, balanced out by her magnificent blonde tresses and violet eyes. While Isabelle was sometimes too aggressive and Camilla needed time to formulate a plan, Yoko always knew the trade-off. A good friend, all in all.
“Well, worst case,” Natassia answered, “Just cut her loose. Easiest way.” I liked Natassia more than Isabelle and the others; much more calm and submissive. She was always gentle, and wanted to help out charity events… obviously the ones that would be popular. Her hair had been greenish-blue for as long as I could remember, and she used contact lenses to give her eyes the matching color. She dressed usually with only one color in mind every day, today was white.
“Anyways, whatever’s the easiest and will save you from further embarrassments. You’re a good friend, and an incredible runner. Okay?”
Minako sighed for a moment before nodding. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Atta girl!”
The maiden
Surprisingly, ‘Fate’, as Minako called her, wasn’t at class today, and neither was Yuki. A substitute was covering a book I had already read for the class, so I sat back and buried myself in schoolwork…
Except when I wanted to contradict any shortsighted concept someone put forth about the story or defend someone whose genius the others didn’t recognize.
“But the message wouldn’t be ‘the future is hopeless’, then!” one student argued with another as the substitute just kept out of the bloodbath. “The message would be ‘don’t let this happen’!”
I looked up, seeing the boy in question had white hair… didn’t look unnatural either.
“But the author’s works were always critical of idealists!” countered another student. The boy suddenly looked as if he’d lost his nerve, struggling with a response.
Closing my books, I turned around and spoke up. “Just because he did so before and after doesn’t mean that the story in question must obey the rule. Humans are not consistent animals, are they?” There were murmurs as I nodded at the young man I rescued. I decided to give him a little more help… class was almost over anyways.
The great thing about interpreting a story is that if you have the information to back up your claims, it can’t be refuted… it’s the freedom I was talking about earlier. Math and sciences follow a strict set of rules, much of life does. I hate those kinds of rules. But here, nothing would stop me from speaking how I pleased.
“The fact remains that the protagonist dies. The protagonist fails in his goals and dies with every hope and dream he’s ever had shattered forever, despite being a realist and setting realistic goals. In the meantime, his rival in reshaping society holds idealistic views and manages to succeed, to an extent, in his own goals. I interpret it as the idea that a idealist can succeed when a realist cannot because they have so much more to fight for, they refuse to acknowledge defeat and struggle to attain victory, sometimes succeeding in the end, long after the realist has given up.”
The hour, having been waning for the duration of the class, was then nothing, and we all left for our next classes. I enjoyed my schedules on Wednesdays… I had literature and then calligraphy, and that was it. After that, I could go home… or arguably handle my duties as being a Celestial Warrior… whatever that meant.
“Wait up, please!” I turned, seeing the boy from before run up to me, bowing in appreciation that I’d stopped. “I just wanted to say thanks for sticking up for me back there.”
“No problem,” I answered. “Your concept was sound, people just didn’t see what it was.”
“Thanks.” He reached out, and I shook his hand. “The name’s Soma Elpiz.”
“Mizuki Rajoshin. Judging by the name, you’re an exchange student, right?”
“Actually… no,” he answered. “Where you headed next?”
“Calligraphy.”
“Same here,” he answered. “Mind if I walk with you?” I nodded. “Thanks.”
We talked a bit, he seemed an honest man. Soma’s parents were missionaries, but he was born here… turned he actually knew Minako to an extent. I was surprised to hear she was one of M--’s star track runners, along with the fact she was a good two and a half years younger than me… turned out that Loretta was the reason she was here so much earlier than normal.
We continued our conversations during calligraphy, creating flawless Kanji characters whereas others failed to even grasp the basics of the far-simpler Katakana. Considering how we were halfway into the semester, I was surprised at how this could possibly be.
With the end of the calligraphy session, class was done for me for the day. Unsure as to what to do since I hadn’t seen either Loretta or Minako, I grabbed a bowl of ramen down at the café and sat back and let time go on by. It could’ve been a minute, it could’ve been an hour… I really don’t know.
But I sensed it. It’s weird… I barely had the lay of M--, yet I knew the exact location of the now-manifested servant of the Shiko. I ran out, glad I had picked loose clothes.
You’re probably wondering why I’d actually bother to go and face it rather than let it slide… not like Loretta or Minako was ordering me to fight. But the fact remained, Minako had been there for me before. I would’ve died if she hadn’t been there, and I didn’t know if she’d be there for this one… so it had to be me.
I ran through the Chemistry labs to find a disgusting, spiky bipedal demon staring at him… nobody was around. Good, that meant I could handle this and nobody would ever know. Except I suddenly realized something very, very important.
Minako had never shown me how to transform. I thought and shouted out half a dozen words and phrases at the monster lunged at me, everything from “Cross Changer” and “Henshin” to “I’m changing now!” and “Uncaring Crystal Power: Make-up!”
Nothing happened to my clothes, and I was forced to dive to the side to avoid a quick dead as the monster slashed at me. Getting back up, I tried to regain my bearings only to be tackled by the creature as it slashed at me again. This time I could only try to half-roll to the left to avoid a swift yet painful death and escape its wrath a second time.
The panic that had gripped me during meeting the first of these things returned… what was I getting into here? There were half a dozen potential weapons around me from a chair to a fire extinguisher, yet I saw no possible weapons around me. I forced myself to not scream as the creature approached me, backing me up against a door. It slashed, and by a miracle my idiot hands stumbled across the doorknob and got it open. I slid backwards, narrowly evading the attack, but falling right down on my butt.
My forehead felt both warm and cold, and I reached up and felt blood on it as my death approached me.
I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. It’ll kill me. My life is over. Nobody was even here, I wasn’t even playing hero to anyone.
The creature promptly was split in two from behind, and I saw my knight in shining armor staring at me with worry.
Minako.
“Mizuki… are you alright?” she said, looking at me worriedly and running over to me.
“He got me. I’m going to die. I’m-”
“That’s crazy,” she responded, grabbing some nearby paper towel and wiping the blood away. “Don’t worry… he cut you kinda deep, but very thinly. You’re going to be fine. It’s probably not even going to leave a scar. Here…” she shifted again into civilian clothes, pulling a yellow headband out of her pocket and wrapping it around my head. Since she was in track, I guess it was to be expected she’d have one or two on her person. “There you go.” She smiled while helping me up. “… You know… you actually look pretty good with a headband on… you should wear one more often.”
“I…” I struggled to say, but she just put her finger across my lips and cradled me. That must have been humiliating… she’s younger and shorter than me and keeping me from falling to pieces. At least I didn’t cry… this wasn’t cry-worthy. I’d know when it was cry-worthy.
“It’s okay,” she said over and over again, going so far as to kiss my forehead on the headband. “I was no better my first few outings. I thought I could handle it… but I couldn’t. I nearly died so many times… I was saved be nothing but luck. But I’m here, Mizuki… that’s not going to happen to you. I’m going to protect you, I promise.”
She just cradled me for who knows how long; I lost track of time well before this whole cluster-blunder.
…
Eventually I spoke up. “I really look good with a headband?” I looked up at her, and the younger Celestial Warrior nodded and smiled. “That’s… that’s nice to know.”
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