Note: Back from the grave! Sorry for the loooong delay! Erm… wait, hope y'all people are still here?
Yup! It's got a new title, though pretty much the same plot. I was thinking, since Sadako's turn was called "Ring" and there was actually a sequel to it called "Rasen Spiral" and a third installment titled "Loop", why not think of a title for my own fiction that relates to these things? Such as "Helix"… See, I wanna expand my story beyond what I know about the original. I am borrowing Sadako, but putting her in a whole new plot, a whole new story, yet pretty much the same kind of wickedness, hehehe… -
CHAPTER FIVE: ONII-CHAN
He knew he had seen this girl before, but couldn't quite tell when and where. Or how. By some unexplained reason, there was something about her that was trying to vaguely remind him of something.
Something he had yet to attempt figuring out once he got bored enough with his life and was left with no other choice but to think of more pleasant things aside from basketball… And sleep.
Shedding off the pensive frown from his face and replacing it with the usual expressionless one, the reticent kitsune continued watching her chest heave up and down in steady breathing. Despite his reputation as an apathetic freak--the 'coldest' warm-blooded being on earth--he felt every possible sign of relief there was upon seeing this much improvement in his guest… Though, it may not show all that much exteriorly.
It had almost been an hour since he took her here and granted her all the comfort of his own bed without so much as a grumble. A most unlikely gesture, especially from someone like him, but he was left with no other option.
He had, after all, caused an inconvenience to this dilly-dallying do'ahou in pajamas. That's blood-soiled pajamas to be exact--which was rather curious. Suspicious, even, since he had already checked the kid from head to toe and found no possible source of the bright crimson stains. There was not a wound on her aside from the lump his basketball had so nimbly planted upon her head, which was not all that serious to begin with.
He would've liked to perform a more thorough assessment, just to make sure there absolutely was nothing to be apprehensive about. But seeing as he was the only other breathing being in the house and that there was an obvious difference in his and that creature's gender, he couldn't risk being branded a pervert for his good intentions.
Being Kaede Rukawa, Shohoku High's one and only Super Basketball Ace, he did have a reputation to protect and preserve.
And being a guy--though a rather aloof and snobbish one at that--he did know the need for him to give all due respect and consideration to a lady. Given that she never did anything to irritate him so much and thus provoke his rubbish-intolerant temperance to ignore her for good.
Not that he ever did give the slightest inkling of attention to any girl anyway.
As the most recent joke went, the great virginal Ice Prince had yet to find a girl who could efficiently meet up to his hypercritical expectations. Presumably, she should have a head that was the exactest replica of a basketball propped up on some shapely human body molded and made to live for the sole purpose of being his bride.
Yeah right.
He would've laughed it off if he had chosen to pay attention to it--and if he had actually allowed himself enough human empathy to demonstrate such a reaction, for that matter.
Or if he had gotten pissed instead, he would've even given anything just to get a kick off a certain hedgehog's sorry ass for instigating that witticism, and do something more or as equally rude to that redheaded do'ahou, as well, for stoking the fire.
But since he was Kaede Rukawa, the virginal Ice Prince, he could as easily brush off such crappy comments as though he had never once heard of them.
Or, at least, play like so in public.
Since he wouldn't be wasting his precious brain cells thinking about this now if he had really discarded it completely, right?
How he hated it when people prattled about him as though he was fated to be the last living virgin on earth! And they do it too in his presence, like they were assuming he was too dumb to realize he was being insulted.
Or, perhaps they were doing it purposefully to try and see if they're getting any better in their slurring skills. And since he was the numbest person around, it would be enough proof of their expertise if they could force some conceivable emotion into his poker face.
Assholes.
Pensive frown deftly finding its way back to his mien, the poker-faced Super Basketball Ace-slash-virginal Ice Prince wondered why he had let such draffy thoughts harbor his head for a couple of wasted minutes. Was he so out of his mind that he had actually allowed himself the distress of such a lowly topic as his apparent lack of stimulating acquaintances with the opposite sex? The very thought of it, to say the very least, was even affecting him!
A few more minutes of this would've made him into a sorry partisan of some Casanovan cult, seriously damaging his sorry brain cells thinking of ways to end his cursed girl-less life.
His peaceful life, actually.
Needless to say, he was totally, absolutely, downright extremely so out of it.
And good riddance, who wouldn't be, anyway?! He would gladly resort to any other thought there was at the moment just to divert his mind from the unjust cruelties of the world he got all the misfortune to be stuck in.
Pensive frown aggravating into a darker, much grimmer one, the 'poker face' now looked more anxious and distressed than contemplative. It was the rarest of all rare occasions to see a rather impassive guy sporting a disturbed look on his countenance and looking as perturbed as though seeing the devil himself vis-à-vis.
But it was as real as the parching heat of the sun's ray penetrating through the open window… As real as the quiescent existence of a vagrant urchin on his bed…
As real as… someone he knew dying in the same gym wherein he spent almost everyday honing up his already near-perfect craft.
As numbingly true as two Kainan players meeting simultaneous mishaps--one losing his sanity and the other losing his life--in the darkened alley he would pass by whenever he lost his way in his sleep and was left with no other choice but to take the longer route home.
It happened in places he could've been in at the wrong time…
At the littlest strike of fate in a slightly deflected angle, it could've been him.
He could've been dead. Everything could've ended for him as did with those three people…
But, actually that was beside the whole point.
What was really bothering him big time--aside, of course, from the inchoate realization of the vagarious whims of fate--was that he could've died a virgin!
Hell, he may have been inhumanely addicted to basketball, may have seemed colder than a mound of iceberg, may have looked stiffer than marble, and may have qualified for a slot among the stony faces in Mount Rushmore, but--and this was a very big BUT!--he was still a human being through and through.
He's got the complete parts, after all, went through the necessary hormonal changes, sporadically suffered the typical carnal needs… And though he may seem rather anti-social, he did crave for the warmth of security and human affection.
The stunned kitsune blinked, dull, blue eyes staring unseeingly into empty space. He shook his head roughly and cursed under his breath, feeling the apprehensions he was trying to escape from slowly engulfing his soul.
It sure felt like he couldn't bear anything anymore.
With all that had happened and was currently happening to him, try as he might to deny it, great Ice Prince Kaede Rukawa was beginning to realize and actually believe that he really did need some serious help.
His very idea of which was, of course, drowning the hassles and the rest of the world in the one thing he was and would ever be passionate about.
Without any further ado, he stood up, scooped the discarded orange ball beside the bed and silently padded out of the room.
All this while, the befuddled kitsune's earthbound senses remained oblivious to a spectral presence that had been fixedly watching the still form on the bed from one corner of that unsanctified chamber.
As soon as the door clicked close, the metallic grinding sound began reverberating through the room. The unworldly overture was followed almost immediately by two pairs of corporeal eyes snapping open to reveal gray irises gleaming with vengeful contempt…
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He had been watching that brisk, spirited form from afar, his revering heart filling up with utter amusement as the devilishly adept incarnate practically flew around the limited expanse of the imaginary court it had built for itself. He was so engrossed in just looking at the excellent basketball stunts unfolding in such rapid succession right before his very eyes that it actually took a whole couple of minutes for him to finally come to his senses and decide to make himself known.
"How's it going, Super Rookie?" the human hedgehog chirped cheerfully as he approached the familiar backyard where the callous younger guy was inexorably engaged in a serious basketball game with imaginary opponents.
His simple greeting, finding it easier to mingle with the late morning breeze, didn't even make it through the impervious icy façade. Instead, the imperturbable super rookie kept up with his excellent ball plays, pointedly ignoring everything and anything around him aside from the adversaries he had woven out of the wind, his basketball, and the non-existent hoop.
There were moments of great awe and wonderment during which the great basketball Tensai, Akira Sendoh, would actually forget that Kaede Rukawa was a human being. This was one of those moments.
At the amount of passion and intensity with which his kouhai was playing, it wouldn't be much of a surprise if his new pair of sleek Air Jordan shoes would eventually set fire on the ground he was stepping on.
The kid looked that determined… And so downright unaware of his presence.
It was enough of a compensation to see him wearing those shoes, though. That pair of expensive shoes he had given him last week as a very, very, very late birthday present.
It had been the very first time he actually saw those dull cerulean eyes faintly brighten up with juvenile delight at seeing what could very well be the best gift the kid had ever received in his entire life.
But then, as sudden as the vaguely implied initial reaction, the 'poker face' took on a sour frown as the amusingly proud chap snorted and asked, "What am I gonna do with it?"
"What are you supposed to do with a pair of shoes, Kaede?" he had asked sardonically as a rather taunting smile sprawled itself evidently on his lips. "I don't suppose you eat them for lunch, do you?"
The kid's dry-as-a-desert humor didn't allow him any other reaction aside from the blankest stare and the flattest utterance of "Do'ahou" Sendoh had ever encountered in his entire perilous 'career' as a mentor and good friend to Kaede Rukawa. Spending time with this kid was the toughest ordeal he had ever had the misfortune to deal with, but it was also a blessing of sorts, nevertheless.
Though Kaede Rukawa may seem to be an unfeeling, ungrateful snob exteriorly, there definitely was much more to him than what readily met the eye. He may impart this "get-lost-or-I'll-bite-you" attitude to the public, but what's really behind that glacial façade was a lonely little kid craving for the warmth and affection of a family.
The aloof, foxy lad lost his parents at an early age and had since then been living with an aunt who would rather wear herself out working than take care of an orphaned nephew. The only reason she took the kid in was out of obligation to her deceased older sister. She gave him lodging, food, money, everything aside from the attention a growing young boy needed. And not one to force himself onto someone who didn't really want him, Rukawa had contented himself in living and depending on his own strength and intuition for survival. He took care of himself, of his own needs, comforted himself in his sorrow--until he eventually turned into the cold, extrinsically tough teenager he was right now.
At an early age, Rukawa had come to realize that he needed nobody to pull through life. That he could be the strongest and the best he could possibly be if he worked on his own. But, though tough as he may seem outside, the unwanted young kid that he was remained incarcerated in the very depths of his soul. Despite everything he had achieved and the number of denials he had been forcing himself to believe, there was still a part of Rukawa that remained desolate and human enough to keep him vaguely aching to be valued and loved.
Sendoh smiled widely to himself upon remembering the most recent one-on-one basketball game he had played in this same backyard. That time when the kid suddenly decided to open up to him and he, instantly losing his concentration, inadvertently surrendered the ball to the sly enemy and nearly went sprawling on the ground in all his befuddled disgrace.
If it were meant to be a distraction, he'd have to say it was a damn good one. What the younger guy had told him was pretty simple yet weird-sounding that he actually found it hard to regain focus for the next couple of seconds.
But he knew the guy would never risk tiring out his rarely used vocals just to create an aberration. Kaede Rukawa hardly ever talked, but when he did, he never lied. So when the kid said almost absently that he saw a fatherly figure in Coach Anzai and would rather die than disappoint his old man, Sendoh knew he just had to take his word for it.
"And how do you see the redheaded Sakuragi?" the Ryonan Ace, while crouching down for defense, had ventured to ask solely for the fun of it, since he did notice that Rukawa had been giving much attention to that guy than he had ever done on anybody else.
"A nuisance," was the curt reply. Then, after sinking in an easy shot into their imaginary hoop, he sighed rather loudly and added. "…Like an annoying younger brother that I feel I need to watch over."
Sendoh chuckled and followed the man of the house as the latter walked to the porch and sat there casually twirling the ball on his forefinger. The spiky-haired lad took a seat beside his brooding friend who was obviously luring him into an intimate talk. And since it was rare to see Rukawa willing to speak his mind, Sendoh had no intentions of passing this moment up for the world. Plus, he did have something he had wanted to ask the foxy young lad ever since they became this close.
"How do you see me, Kaede?" he had asked in a quiet voice, seemingly too afraid to hear a response.
Long silence ensued during which the younger guy kept on spinning his ball. And just when the older one was about to start wishing he had never asked that rather imposing question, Rukawa suddenly halted his stunt and sighed before asking back, "How do you see me, senpai?"
How did Sendoh see Rukawa? It was pretty easy for him to answer that question. "An annoying younger brother that I feel I need to watch over," he replied, quoting the kid's previous statement.
At this Rukawa stood up and nonchalantly headed for the double sliding door, "I made cakes and tea," was all he said before he disappeared into the hallway leading to the dining area.
Though the younger lad didn't say it then, Sendoh knew he got his answer. And from that moment to the present, he had done and given anything he could to show the kid how much of a pleasure and honor it was to take care of him. All this he did while he constantly and tirelessly yearned for the moment this proud, ungrateful snob would finally learn to call him "Onii-chan".
By then, he knew, he would be the happiest, most fulfilled big brother in the whole world. And hopefully, through this he would also be able to get over this age-long regret he had been harboring in his heart at not being able to give as much love and attention to his real younger sibling.
Yeah, that fine little angel who got lost even before he could brush a finger through her fragile skin. He never even got to look into her tiny, sparkling eyes squinting to see into his own. Never even able to damage a single brain cell thinking of an appropriate name for her.
Oh, he damaged a lot of his two-year-old brain cells then, all right. He damaged them all thinking how the hell his mother--his beloved mother--could have lost his little sister in some unknown corner of town, right after giving birth to her.
Misplaced… What a term to use for a baby girl, barely a day old! His little sister had been misplaced like a worthless, lifeless little toy, somewhere… In some secluded place his deranged mother couldn't even remember where herself.
Sendoh could only sigh at that unfortunate memory. That… infuriating piece of his past that had so suddenly barged into his random thoughts. He may have already forgiven his mother, but he had not yet overcome the sadness, the longing he felt over losing his chance to feel the warmth of holding that bundle of joy, his own kin and blood, tightly against himself.
Even after fifteen years, the wound he had sustained from that experience remained fresh... and aching. He had thought his girlfriend could fill in the emptiness he felt inside, but she only added more bane to his bitterness with her untimely death. While his best friend, Hiroaki Koshino, had mysteriously disappeared after they went back from their basketball training camp two days ago.
Now, the eternally smiling lonely guy had only one person left to turn to--the basketball deity setting an intensely passionate fire on the backyard… still pointedly ignoring his presence.
How could he expect this guy to call him "onii-chan" when the latter couldn't even sense his proximity right now?
What a pity, Kaede, was the wistful thought that suddenly came rushing through the slightly shaking head. But since he was done entertaining every single thought that came to mind, and through all these realized how much he valued that injuriously callous guy anyway, Sendoh resolutely began thinking of another way to assert his existence. He had never given up in the past when faced with the same situation, why would he do so now?
The despairing fine lad didn't really need to do anything much, though. Just standing like a complete brooding moron on the other side of the fence and letting an orange projectile hurtling through the air land with a fierce thud on his head proved to be effective enough.
"ITAI!" That exclamation of pain sure was loud enough to wake some living daylight into anyone's fogged up head--an emotionally comatosed kitsune was no exception, of course.
"S-Senpai?" the vaguely stunned kid mumbled, instantly rushing over to check on him.
"Nice shot," was all the smirking Sendoh was able to say as he passed the ball back to the faintly chuckling Kitsune. Wait--What the hell???? Kaede Rukawa? Chuckling? "Hey, what are you laughing at?" he demanded in a whiny voice while putting upon his face a pained and insulted look.
"You're such a do'ahou, Onii-chan!" Then, as though realizing the gravity of what he just said for the first time, the apparently ruffled and embarrassed kitsune grunted and turned his back on his gaping senior.
"Wh-What did you just call me, Kaede?" Sendoh's voice trembled with anticipation. Hey, hearing Rukawa chuckle alone was enough for his senses to handle, after all!
"Do'ahou," came the curt reply as the kid began dribbling his ball in commencement of another intense match.
Despite the throbbing pain in his head and the eviscerating desolation in his heart, the utterly overwhelmed Ryonan Hedgehog let a wide, satisfied smile stretch his lips. Who cared about the past, anyway, when he knew right then and there that he had just become the happiest, most fulfilled big brother in the whole wide world.
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"Onii-chan, do you hate me?" The little girl's voice was small and trembling as she looked up at the adorable blue eyes of the equally adorable young lad holding her steadfastly in his arms.
"Of course not!" the young brunet exclaimed in reply. "What makes you think I do?"
"Cousin Kayako told me so," little five-year-old Kyoko sobbed. "She told me I ain't your sister. That father found me in some garbage bin in Tokyo and took me home. That--"
"Sssh," eight-year-old Kenji shushed, laying his forefinger firmly upon his sister's lips. "Why would you believe her? She's an idiot, remember? She does nothing but hurt you, you shouldn't trust her." Before he could reap the fruit of his attempt at another lie, however, he was dazed by the sudden change in his little sister's expression.
Tear-glazed gray eyes flashed with faint virulence and resentment as they squinted dubiously at him. "You…" the little girl choked at her own words as her hands tightened around each of his arms. "You…" She closed her eyes firmly and almost as immediately began shaking convulsively, like a poor cub being assaulted by volts of an intangible chill.
"Kyoko!" As much as he wanted to wrap his arms around his sister, the utterly worried Kenji could hardly free himself from her injurious grip.
"Poor kid," Kyoko began to speak in an oddly strained voice. "How could someone leave such a delightful creature all alone in a grubby bin? Are we gonna take her in? What do you say, Kenji?"
The older Fujima stared on in stunned disbelief. Those were the exact words his parents had exchanged that night. The night his father came home, carrying a peacefully sleeping infant swathed in a garbage-soiled blanket. Kyoko was repeating everything in their parents' conversation as though she had heard it first hand!
But how could that be? She was barely a day old at that time. How could she… remember…?
"I don't mind," Kyoko kept on. "Baby-chan, daisuki!" He could almost picture himself hugging that innocent bundle, without as much as twitching at the foul smell of whatever rotten thing she had mercilessly been laid upon. "That's very nice, Kenji. Since you like her very much, why don't you think of a kawaii name for her--"
Kenji couldn't take it anymore. With one swift move, he pulled his arms off his sister's clutch and pulled her face close to his chest to muffle the rest of her verbatim repetition of that fateful night. A special night for him and his family… And the beginning of one callow soul's deceitful life.
He couldn't figure out how on earth she did it, but he was utterly sure Kyoko had by now a clear memory of her past. Of the truth behind herself… Or, at least, the part of it that Kenji knew.
His heart broke into tiny, despairing pieces as little Kyoko's bitter sobs bounced against his chest. He felt her hands grip at his shirt as she mumbled the word, "Liar," over and over. All this while, he tried to comfort her by holding her closer against himself and rubbing her back while shushing soothing words into her ear.
"Ssh, daijoubu," he said. "Kyoko-chan…"
There was suddenly a loud gasp and the anguished sobs abruptly ceased. The next thing Kenji knew, he was sitting with an aching butt on the ground, watching in paralyzed bewilderment as the apparently terrified Kyoko rushed off to who knew where. Without any second thoughts, he was abruptly on his feet and was chasing after her.
"Kyoko!" he called at the top of his lungs. "Come back!"
"Don't come after me!" she called back, not bothering to throw him a look. "Please don't!"
He noticed the odd, gagging tone in her voice, almost as though she was going through an unbearable distress. This being the case, how could he succumb to his sister's plea? Even if it meant being killed by whatever strange thing it was that was happening to her, Kenji could only care less. He had attached himself too much on her to ever let her go.
And so he kept his chase, racing against the afternoon breeze and the apprehension he felt upon losing his beloved sister. He kept his gaze on her, unwaveringly focused even as he nearly tripped a number of times on a stray twig or stepped on a discarded dog-poop. None of these mattered as long as he didn't lose sight of Kyoko.
He saw her clutch her stomach tightly before she turned into a secluded alley. And before he could think he had lost her for good, Kenji heard the most agonized, heart-shattering, bloodcurdling scream his ears ever had to suffer from. This was subsequently followed by the frenzic barking of a dog, which burst his fuel to the extreme, inhumanely quickening his already hasty pace.
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"KENJI FUJIMA!"
The startled freshman snapped his eyes open to that nerve-whacking call of fury. Seconds later he was adjusting his ears back to the real world, specifically to the set of roarish laughter immediately generated by the entire class. Even his friends, Toru and Hisashi were merely stifling their set of teasing heehaws.
"Mind telling as what you were dreaming about, Fujima-kun?" the middle-aged Psychology professor crossed her arms across her chest in a rather impatient gesture while giving him a threatening glare that could've easily made even a tongue-less person spill the beans.
"I…" Kenji struggled to think of the right words to say. "I… I'm sorry, Sensei."
"We're waiting, Fujima-kun," the teacher prodded on, pointedly discarding his attempt at pacifying her resentment with a stereotyped excuse. The laughter had by then subsided and he felt like every single pair of eyes in the room were gazing intently at him, waiting for him to recount his dream.
How the hell did this people know I was dreaming, anyway?, he wondered silently as he kept his eyes glued once again on the enticing cover of his textbook.
"C'mon, we wanna know how much more interesting this Kyoko is compared to me and my subject." There was a slight taunting note in Miss Minami's tone that got the whole class reacting almost like a law with their own set of jeering noises.
The illustriously blushing Kenji pulled his gaze up high enough to steal a glance at the sensei, standing behind her podium and looking seemingly pleased with herself.
"You were calling out her name," he heard Toru whisper beside him, while on the seat next to his friend's, there was only the faint, stifled laughter of Hisashi, who was peering at him from behind the bespectacled guy's shoulder.
"Uh… um, well…" Kenji could hardly get himself to breathe with his heart racing at Mach 2 speed, what more speak of the girl that had made him so disoriented as though it was the most common thing to do in the world?
Seeing as he didn't have enough strength or rationality or both to defend himself, Toru willingly came to his rescue. "She's Kenji's little sister, sensei. She… She's left all alone in the house and Kenji had been worrying all morning about her, so--"
"Since when did you become his spokesperson, Hanagata-kun?" Miss Minami cut in with a displeased frown that got the embarrassed fine lad biting his lip so hard it almost bled. The room had once again succumbed to complete silence, except for a few scattered sighs of relief coming from Kenji Fujima's fresh new enthusiasts.
"I refuse to speak about it, sensei," Kenji finally said in a firm voice, meeting his sensei's eyes straight on with a genuinely remorseful look. "I'm… I'm sorry."
"Well, I'm sorry to have to say this, Mr. Fujima, but as much as I don't want to ruin your first week here at the university, you're pushing my patience a little too far." Miss Minami gave a crooked smile before adding her final ultimatum, "I'm giving you detention after classes, unless you decide to change your mind."
But the still slightly zoned Kenji Fujima wasn't giving much attention to her anymore, and was instead silently recounting scene after scene of his foregoing dream in his mind… His dream of that foreboding day…
He heard the pathetic, extremely anguished whimpering of the dog, a second before he reached the alley Kyoko had disappeared into. Where undoubtedly the still very much mysterious and downright anomalous alteration had befallen her young, unsullied existence.
He found the dog, a big black mongrel, lying in a bloody heap on the ground, its head smashed to an unrecognizable mess of blood, bones and cerebrum. Right before it, just an inch away was the terribly trembling Kyoko, whose eyes all but bounced out in the amount of terror they reflected while staring at that gruesome sight. She was spluttered with droplets of blood from her face down to her sneakers, and her breath came in mere gasps.
Despite the benumbing horror flooding through his nerves, Kenji quickly got over himself and was beside his sister in an instant. And as soon as he wrapped his arms around her, convulsive sobs began racking her pallid frame.
"I--It was gonna attack me!" she exclaimed in a tremulous voice. "She--She killed the dog, Onii-chan!"
"Who is she?" Kenji asked, cuddling his beloved sister closer, as though protecting her from the aforementioned, yet imperceptible other presence. "Kyoko, who killed the dog?"
"She---She did," Kyoko's voice turned into a mere whisper, as though she could not herself believe what she was saying. "She---she was me!"
tbc