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tampered2007-07-09 06:35 am
one-hit-k-o.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-07-09 06:35 am
LOG; COMPLETE
When; July 6th, evening
Rating; PG
Characters; Tsubaki![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lady_camellia & Tatsuki anti_buttons
Summary; After Tatsuki "rescues" Tsubaki from Muraki's place, she brings her to the Hospital and then back to their apartment. Angst, girl power, and sake galore!
Log;
It had been an exhausting week. Tatsuki ached all over; her eyes burned, her mouth felt like cotton, everything felt weighted down. But, that was nothing, she knew, sleepless nights and worry that mentally exhausted, worry that spurred her to train until she collapsed, body wiped but mind unable to let it go. But, that was nothing, splitting headache and circled eyes aside, Tatsuki could push it all aside, steam pawed away, air cleared, her focus:
Tsubaki-chan. Her week had been nothing like Tsubaki-chan’s, had been a heaven compared to hell, and the thought of it wanted to make everything hurt worse, like that tight, awful feeling in her chest, but that wasn’t any good. She had to have a good face for Tsubaki-chan, strong, together, and it wasn’t a lie, either, it didn’t have to be, for Tsubaki-chan.
Her shoelaces were untied. Tatsuki realized she was staring at the ground as she walked, hands locked tight on the wheelchair’s provided grips, the weight an easy push on even ground. She looked at her shoelaces and reminded herself as she lifted her chin and looked, solemnly, at the top of Tsubaki-chan’s head, not to trip. The hospital had been fine, standard, didn’t even ask what had happened, wordlessly gave Tatsuki a towel to mop the blood off the backs of her legs. But finding Tsubaki-chan, that had been…
Tatsuki shook her head, expelling the images from her mind, from settling on the backs of her eyelids. Wondering if Tsubaki-chan could allow herself that luxury, she pressed her lips together, pulling them in, tense from neck down spine. Too much to think about. It’d be inappropriate to try and talk about light things, happy things, right? This sort of thing, this sort of thing Tatsuki had no experience in.
”Nice place,” she mused, on the clinic, pushing the chair in the direction of their building. “Too bad you didn’t get casts, I could’ve drawn some stuff. Signed them, you know?”
>>
Tsubaki's own mind was still reeling. From the time Tatsuki had found her next to Muraki's dead body, she hadn't said a word. All she could do was try to cooperate and make it easier on her by wrapping her arms around her neck when she was carried, and letting the doctors do as they needed, not even crying out in pain when they cleaned and bandaged her wounds.
Her feet and ankles were wrapped snuggly in bandages... She was somewhat relieved that there weren't any casts. She didn't want such clunky things on her feet, and besides, she was already dead. It didn't matter if this meant it would take her a little longer to heal. The teenage girl understood she was supposed to stay off her feet, and she would try...but what was she supposed to do? Sit around for the next four weeks?
...Well, it didn't sound like a bad idea. Tsubaki didn't want to move again for a long time, she decided. She was sore, and...tired. But even as weary as she was, it was like a weight had been lifted off her shouldrs.
Tatsuki was attempting to cheer her up, wasn't she? Not wanting to worry her too much, Tsubaki turned her head to glance over her shoulder up at her friend, smiling wearily and nodding in tacit agreement.
>>
Silence, not awkward, not uncomfortable, but sad. Not quite a silence because Tsubaki-chan was there to look at her, to confirm her words with that a least, even if Tatsuki could see that Tsubaki-chan was only humoring her. It pissed her off--at herself, because Tsubaki-chan shouldn’t have had to humor her, she should have known what the right thing to say was, if right was nothing.
Tatsuki smiled back, keeping the strain off her face. What to say when, like vomit, like convulsions in the throat, the only that that wanted to rise up and force out of her mouth was ‘I’m sorry’, too many apologies that couldn’t cover it. And she wanted to sigh, to bury her face in her hands and groan or laugh--how do you cheer someone up after this? After that? It had to be impossible.
It had to be insensitive, and Tatsuki resolved to keep her mouth shut. If she’d been in Tsubaki-chan’s place, she, probably, wouldn’t have wanted to say much, either. Her foot caught on a loose lace, but not enough to trip her, barely enough for a stumble. Putting a little more effort into a hill, Tatsuki tried to clear her mind of all thought, of all tiring anxiety.
>>
There was the unmistakable sound of Tatsuki tripping all of the sudden, and Tsubaki was startled out of her daze again to look down and back. When she noticed the shoelaces, she just had to frown. Were here shoelaces untied the whole time, or had it happened during the walk over?
Maybe she was just tired. She felt guilty suddenly, and her hands in her lap clenched tightly as she looked back ahead of her. She hadn't been roommates with Tatsuki for long, but it was amazing how close she felt they had gotten. Tatsuki had done so much for her...and why? Tsubaki never had anything to give in return. Her cooking was awful, and she could never clean anything as spotless as some girls.
When Tatsuki had only tried to talk sense into her, Tsubaki had yelled at her, and the guilt only became heavier, like a weight on her shoulders once again. An...obligation to make it right.
She stayed still and quiet for the rest of the trip, all the way until they finally reached their apartment.
As soon as they were through the door, Tsubaki put her hands on the chair's arm rests to push herself up and out of it. Her legs shook as she stood, but she bit her lip and forced herself to endure just long enough to grab onto the back of the couch for support, staggering on her way to the kitchen. She wouldn't depend on Tatsuki...or anyone again. That was what had gotten her into the mess!
Now she would stand on her own two feet.
>>
Worst walk home ever, Tatsuki decided as she wheeled Tsubaki-chan into their room. Worst, most awkward, it wasn’t working. This stupid feeling, this crazy thing, over a girl she barely knew. Worst, and something would have to change, or she’d lose it, and Tatsuki had no intention of doing that. She let go of the chair, intending to clamp her hands onto her waist and declare, if a little too brightly, Welcome Home!
But Tsubaki-chan was moving, and Tatsuki’s jaw dropped before she could react to what it was she was seeing. “H-hey, Tsubaki-chan, stop, you need to…you need to stay off your feet!”
Her eyes sweeping toward the ground, fretting over the status of Tsubaki-chan’s feet, she hastened around the chair but did not rush immediately to the other girl’s side. Something made her hesitate, slipped lead into her heels, caught her words in her throat. It was a look on Tsubaki-chan’s face, maybe, or a vague comprehension of what was going on. Tatsuki stood at the ready, should the girl fall, but…
”What… what are you doing, Tsubaki-chan? They told you…!”
>>
Tsubaki paused when Tatsuki's voice reached her ears, and she stumbled as if about to fall. Her free hand shot out to grab the back of the couch as well, and she pushed with all her might to stay upright. "I don't care! I can take care of myself. Tatsuki-chan, y-you've...you've done enough! I shouldn't have asked you to come to get me. It was selfish!"
Finally reaching the edge of the kitchen, she reached out to cling to the wall, and finally the counter. It was a relief once she got there, because then she could just drop down to sit on the floor while she opened up one of the cabinets. She didn't want to think. How could she feel hurt and numb at the same time?!
"I'm so selfish... That's why this happened! I depend too much on other people, and I hurt them just so I could be happy!" Finally finding what she had been looking for, she located the sake bottle they had gotten quite a few nights ago. She could still remember Hisoka scolding her for drinking, and that made her pause before shaking her head and trying to stand again so that she could get a small cup.
>>
Reflex: Tsubaki-chan stumbled and Tatsuki took a step, her hands jerking out for support. But Tsubaki-chan did not fall, and what she was saying was so insane, so ludicrous, so completely beyond any realm of possibility, that Tatsuki’s hands did find her hips, exasperation exhaled in a heavy, disbelieving snort. Are you kidding? Could she be serious? What she wanted to ask, halted by her attention so devoted to the other girl’s progress along the wall.
Tatsuki followed her into the kitchen and, thought tempted to drop onto the floor beside her, stood instead by an opposite counter, looking down at the frantic girl. She had a feeling, simply from knowing where things were--were the knives still under the couch, she wondered, a thought quickly dismissed-- what it was Tsubaki-chan sought.
The more she spoke, the more Tatsuki wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake. She was lucky she was handicapped, right now, so rather than loosening Tsubaki-chan’s teeth, as she tried to stand Tatsuki was there, clamping her hand beneath her elbow. Hard.
”You’re an idiot,” she said, blunt and tired. “If you think that. I’m bringing you to a chair, and then I’ll get you a cup, okay? No ifs or buts.”
>>
Startled out of her rambling, Tsubaki shifted to look at her friend again, shocked by the insult. Then she smiled a little, as if...relieved by the insult, but for her own reasons. The way Tatsuki looked right then, with her expression, and how her tone sounded, all she could think of was Hisoka.
And that made her quick to turn away and sit back on the floor beside the sake bottle. "I don't need a chair," she whispered. "I'm not a pampered princess anymore. The floor is comfortable enough."
Still, worn out and shy, the girl tipped her head to glance up. "Sit with me?"
>>
The floor. Sitting on the floor. Tatsuki found herself looking down again, in her bemused expression a small smile. Pampered princess? At Tsubaki-chan’s request, Tatsuki obliged, dropping easy to the floor, crossing her legs in front of her. She arched her eyebrows at Tsubaki-chan once she was settled, having twisted to get her back against the cabinet, to sag, not quite out of notice, back against it.
”You know,” she said, folding her hands behind her head, eying the sake bottle. “…We paupers sit in chairs, too.”
Sure, Tsubaki-chan could be a little selfish, could act like a princess, but this guilt was absurd, after what had been done to her. It made Tatsuki want to hit something, hard, to shatter through the wood behind her head, a good slam to match the ache in her head and the thumping in her ribs.
”Can’t believe I was glad to be in this place, for once,” she muttered, dropping her arms so to hold out one for the sake.
>>
Tatsuki's comment made her cover her mouth, cheeks flushing a soft pink out of embarrassment out of implying that Tatsuki might have been a pauper. "I didn't mean it that way..."
At the offered hand, Tsubaki reached over to her other side to pick up the bottle, handing it over, though her hands trembled as she held it. Her grip was weak and tired, which was no surprise after what she had been through. Her body might have still been experiencing a mild shock.
"...Glad?" Tsubaki stretched out her legs so that she didn't put any weight on her feet, arranging her skirt to carefully cover herself. As she smoothed it out, her gaze caught on the blood that had dried by now. "...I'm glad...you're here, too. I know I have other friends but still..." A palm was rubbed against her skirt, as if she was able to push the blood away. "Sometimes I feel all alone. Even with Hisoka...I felt like I was by myself in that relationship."
"...Sensei--...Mm. ...Muraki always called me Camille. My name aside... Do you know what Camille references?"
>>
Tsubaki-chan blushed, covered her mouth, and Tatsuki laughed. Loudly, a little too hard when a chuckle would have sufficed, leaning too hard into the joy to try and suppress all the other stuff that was mucking up her head. “Oh, geeze, Tsubaki-chan, there’s no need to look like that. I was teasing!”
Tatsuki took the bottle from her quivering hands, and tried not to notice that they were, to draw attention to them with a concerned stare. She opened the bottle and took a swig, then another, before sliding it back to the other girl. Who, however much escaping things through alcohol might not be the best idea, clearly needed it more.
As Tsubaki-chan moved, she watched, watched the delicacy of her movements, the way the skirt fell, hesitating over the bandages on her feet, hesitating for a different reason on the stains on her skirt. Tatsuki reached up to scratch blunt nails against the back of her neck. It wasn’t really what she had meant by glad, she had meant the City, where Tsubaki-chan could suffer something awful but still live. In a fashion. She let her talk, though, nodding, oddly touched in a way a girl like her wasn’t too good at expressing.
”Camille?” Tatsuki shook her head. Sensei? Muraki? And this Irene, it was all over her head. Tatsuki focused on the simple, the concrete, emotional truths: Tsubaki-chan was her roommate and her new friend, and all the history and fucked up shit aside, Tatsuki would be there for her. Even if she’d fucked it up, a little.
”No, I don’t know. …You don’t need to tell me, you know.”
>>
The sake bottle was set beside her, and Tsubaki eyed it for a long moment. She had never had a drink of something that wasn't from a cup... Drinking out of the bottle was beyond barbaric. But she had said herself...no longer a pampered princess. Wasn't that right?
Carefully, she lifted it up, though what she had could have been classified as more of a dainty sip. But then, she had to be careful, as her tolerance was the worst. Setting the bottle back down between them, Tsubaki darted her tongue over her lips and resisted the urge to wipe at her mouth with her hand.
Instead she folded her hands in her lap and smiled a bit, though there was a hint of sadness there. "It's a reference to a novel that was turned into an opera...as well as a ballet. La Dame aux Camélias, or Lady of the Camellias. It's a story about a man named Armand, later changed to Camille, who falls for a courtesan."
Lifting her arms up, Tsubaki shifted from her position to push up onto her knees, away from the cabinet so that she could fan out her arms in a graceful swoop, as if mimicing a ballet herself. And she was, really, her voice soft as she spoke.
"She's sick, and doesn't want to hurt him... His father doesn't approve. But they love each other so." Crossing her hands at the wrists, Tsubaki swung one leg around to stretch out in front of her, though she remained seated, and began to lean back. She didn't stop until her back had curved, and she tipped her head back to look at Tatsuki.
"She tries to leave him for his own sake, but in the end it doesn't matter. Her illness takes her as she confesses her love." In a woosh of air, the girl smoothly sat back up, arms crossing over her chest as she leaned back over, halting once her forehead was about to touch her knee. "Ah. I warn you--lucky in love, unlucky at cards," she quoted in a whisper.
>>
It was kind of fun to watch Tsubaki-chan, though a little weird, too. Tatsuki had discovered this long before today, but the way that her roommate moved was one way in which she did not remind her, at all, of Orihime. Orihime had energy, had a kind of clumsy grace, enthusiasm that was soft and spilling over her pretty outline. Tatsuki had reserve, moved like the sort of people a tomboy from Karakura Town never encountered, dainty and small, like six hundred lessons on etiquette embodied in a single feminine paradigm.
Not the sort of thing Tatsuki would normally appreciate, but it was different enough to catch her attention. The minute the bottle was back, Tatsuki had it in a rough grip around its neck, tipping it back carelessly, indifferent to germs or sharing spit. Her tolerance was pretty low, too: Tatsuki never drank back home, just didn’t have the interest, nothing for or against the act.
Listening, watching Tsubaki-chan, Tatsuki kept her hand on the bottle but forgot to drink again. Ballet was another thing Tatsuki didn’t really care for; watching the Tempest had almost put her to sleep more than once. Tsubaki-chan, now, however, with this odd sort of grace, mimicking it with ruptured feet… Tatsuki couldn’t look away. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like the story, and flashed a frown down at the bottle.
”That doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Tatsuki said, insisted, really, obstinately. “Muraki sounded like a creep. Must’ve been an idiot, too.”
She fought a scowl as she offered the bottle.
>>
Tatsuki's reaction surprised her, and it was a pleasant surprise. Yet again, she covered her mouth to hide a smile before nodding and scooting back to lean against the counter again. "Muraki was a brilliant doctor...and good at manipulating. But he miscalculated."
Taking the bottle up herself, Tsubaki stared down at it for a few awkward moments before picking it up to have a longer drink. Really, she didn't like the taste of sake. It was bitter and she nearly had a gag reflex every time, but it took all of her manners and willpower to keep from doing so.
She did wipe her hand against her mouth, though, before smoothing out her skirt again nervously. "He thought I wouldn't be able to kill him. That's why he put Irene to sleep."
With a sigh, she shut her eyes, a shudder crawling up her spine at the memory of his dead body, and she instincetively moved closer to lean against Tatsuki, nuzzling against her shoulder. "I'm glad it's over. Even if I've no one to love anymore... I'd rather be alone than be somebody's puppet."
>>
Tatsuki, unaware of Tsubaki-chan’s history with Dr. Muraki--that body, a dead body, like her teammates on that day, but bloodier--didn’t completely understand. She supposed it was one of those things that she wouldn’t understand in full, not ever, and it was too easy to quell the desire to want to, to need to know more. This was enough.
It had been her, then. Tatsuki tried not to look too surprised, to think, Tsubaki-chan killed that man for something he hadn’t even done. Maybe--she still didn’t trust that kid, but any opportunity to prove otherwise had been lost. She realized, sitting there, that she’d have to apologize to him like promised, and fought a rather immature scowl as she reached for the bottle.
Tatsuki lifted the arm closer to Tsubaki-chan, to sling it around her shoulders as she moved closer. She squeezed. “No one to love?”
She shook her head, wanting to protest, there’s more than just that kind of love, and there are loads of people here. But something else caught her attention. Tatsuki took a swig, wiped the excess sake from around her mouth, and peered at Tsubaki-chan. “Alone over a puppet? You didn’t feel like a puppet with Hisoka, did you?”
>>
Her cheeks flushed then, and she was quick to shake his head. "No! Hisoka, he... He wanted me to be free. He couldn't understand my feelings for Muraki. If only I had listened to him then, I wouldn't have had to--"
Cutting herself off, the teen's shoulders rose and fell along with a silent sigh. "He sometimes made me feel like a princess again. Always ready to protect me... He would get so flustered and cute just from a kiss. For seven months, we've been..."
Recollecting her time with Hisoka only pained her all over again, and she hung her head while trying not to cry. "And now he's gone. But that's better. Hisoka is a shinigami... He has work to do with Tsuzuki-san. I went them to be happy together, and strong."
>>
Hisoka. Maybe a bad thing to bring up, and Tatsuki berated herself, though Tsubaki-chan seemed to be okay with it. She patted her hand against Tsubaki-chan’s shoulder as the girl spoke, looking with badly disguised concern. Concern turned to a gleam of pride, her fingers halting the pat-pat-pat, pressing down. After everything she had been through, to come out with such a mature attitude! Mature, and something else.
Tatsuki exhaled hard, taking the bottle by its neck and giving it a hard jerk, swinging her hand into a circle. “Geeze, you’re really too much, Tsubaki-chan.”
A small sip, then she pushed the bottle insistently at the other girl. “Shinigami really are everywhere these days, huh,” Tatsuki half-grumbled, even knowing that it was different, if not how, for Hisoka. “Not a selfish bone in your body, huh? Or, is that how you think it should be?”
Tatsuki looked down, gaze irresistibly drawn to Tsubaki-chan’s feet. She shook hr head. “It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to want him back. That’s a really great attitude you have, but are you sure that’s all there is? It’s…really soon. Feels sort of like…”
With her hand freed of the bottle, Tatsuki used it to rub the back of her head, uncombed hair shifting around her fingers. “Like, I can’t keep up with you.”
>>
Tsubaki was quickly learning that the more she drank, the less she tasted it...which was honestly a good thing in this case. Feeling just the slightest bit more relaxed now, even if her heart still hurt and her soul ached, it was still good to know she can smile.
Tipping her head back, she took a long drink before needing to quickly set it down to cough into her hands. Just a bit too much in one gulp, not to mention slight shock at Tatsuki's commentary.
Her roommate was someone she never expected to hear such a thing from. Tatsuki was everything that Tsubaki dreamed to be...minus the pants. But really, she was strong and powerful, and free to speak her mind, and she didn't let anyone push her around. To think she couldn't keep up with weak little Tsubaki...
A blush back on her cheeks, Tsubaki gazed up at her, eyes shimmering with emotion. "To hear that from someone I admire so much...! Nobody's ever said such a nice thing about me before. Thank you."
Spur of the moment, Tsubaki flung her arms around her friend's neck to hug her tightly.
>>
Tatsuki’s low tolerance enabled her to have a slight buzz, at this point, with the heaviness of the drinks she had been taken. It made her more keen to lean into Tsubaki-chan, or to let the girl lean into her. She was okay, or she would be, though thinking of what she must’ve gone through, of her having no eyes and lost beneath this “Irene”, it made her stomach twist something awful.
This reaction surprised Tatsuki, and she looked down with confusion. What was with that look? It only got worse with the words, and she opened her mouth to protest, something, when Tsubaki-chan had thrown herself on her. Gaping, Tatsuki’s arms moved around her back, returning the hug as best she could as she sputtered.
“H-hey, Tsubaki-chan, careful!” A glance down, as ever, to Tsubaki-chan’s legs. Then, she blinked. Repeatedly, and didn’t quite blush, but looked more than a little confused, a crooked grin coming up despite that.
”…Admire? Since when did you admire me? I mean, I’m pretty great, sure, but that’s something I usually have to tell people.”
>>
Tatsuki's words only made her grin as well, and she giggled before pinching the other girl's shoulder lightly. "Tatsuki-chan forgot? I told you I admired you the last time we had too much to drink! But I can't blame you... I don't remember too much of that night, either."
The hangover the next day had been enough to make Tsubaki want to just sleep in her nice dark closet all day... It had been a miracle of God that she'd been able to get out of bed, let alone do ballet.
Ballet. Would her feet ever heal enough for her to do it again?
Shaking that thought off, Tsubaki reached up to tap Tatsuki on the nose. "And what's why I do! Because you're so ready to tell people... You're proud and brave and stubborn. Like a boy! But...much better. I think I've had my fill of boys."
>>
It didn’t hurt, but Tatsuki faked an “Ow!” of protest anyway, ruined someone by the laughter in her voice.
”Eeeeh, you did?” Weird, that she had forgotten something like that! It was the sort of thing, Tatsuki figured, that she’d want to remember. She must’ve gotten much more smashed than she had thought, and Tatsuki reflected that she really, really needed to watch it. The dark memories of the next day made her hesitate before reaching for the sake bottle again. Maybe just to cap it.
Another blink, now as Tsubaki-chan tapped her nose, the gesture teasing and familiar. She was completely unused to receiving compliments in such abundance, or at least, honest sounding ones that had nothing to do with the length of her legs in proportion to the gross of the guy spouting it.
”Like a boy?” She asked, her grin widening even as a furrow dug between her brows. Some compliment. Well, s’long as she was better. “Yeah,” Tatsuki agreed, lifting her hand to slide it through Tsubaki-chan’s hair, more of a gentle tousle, the impetus for a noogie lost with the reminder that this Tsubaki-chan. “Boys are pigs. Thick-headed or thinking with the wrong head, all of them!”
>>
Her head ducked a bit under the tousle, and her laugh was light and airy as she tried to smooth her hair back again. "Ah, it's true Hisoka could be thick-headed, but what do you mean other head?"
It was just one of those things you needed to repeat out loud before understanding, because almost as soon as Tsubaki heard herself say it, she clapped her hands over her mouth, cheeks bright red and her head shaking. Voice muffled through her hands, she tried not to giggle...and was horribly unsuccessful. "Oh my! Tatsuki-chan, you're horribly vulgar. But I promise you, Hisoka wasn't like that! And I know Kazumi-kun and Cassian aren't like that."
Hisoka, after all, had even turned away her sexual advances on their six-month anniversary. While it was true that it made her feel rejected in some ways, it reminded her that there was so much more to him. He was a deep person, and she would regret not getting even more time to know him.
But as she dropped her hands to smile up at Tatsuki again, she knew that she still had some things to be grateful for. She had friends who cared for her, and she would cherish them for as long as she could.
>>
“Horribly vulgar?” Tatsuki asked with a laugh, “I’m just honest, Tsubaki-chan.” It was cute, the way Tsubaki-chan reacted, a little like Orihime but different, too—even more girly. She’d always known girls like that existed, probably had known a few of them vaguely—a girl in her pre-school, had called Tatsuki a tomboy and though it had been true, Tatsuki’d hit her on principle. Ribbon girl shrieked, Tatsuki’d gotten into a load of trouble, and sworn off princesses from that day forth.
Yet, there she was, sitting next to one such girl, picking up a bottle of sake to close. They’d had enough, and it probably wasn’t a good idea for Tsubaki-chan to get into the habit of turning to sake when upset. Tatsuki shifted, so to gain access to the cupboard and put away the bottle. Having done so, she glanced at the other girl in time to catch her smile.
It made her feel guilty in a weird, stupid way that she didn’t like at all. Kicking it away, Tatsuki bared her teeth in a sunny grin and, unlike her, tossed her arms around the girl in a quick, rough hug. She’d take care of her, this time. She wouldn’t screw it up again, not ever again.
Rating; PG
Characters; Tsubaki
lady_camellia & Tatsuki anti_buttonsSummary; After Tatsuki "rescues" Tsubaki from Muraki's place, she brings her to the Hospital and then back to their apartment. Angst, girl power, and sake galore!
Log;
It had been an exhausting week. Tatsuki ached all over; her eyes burned, her mouth felt like cotton, everything felt weighted down. But, that was nothing, she knew, sleepless nights and worry that mentally exhausted, worry that spurred her to train until she collapsed, body wiped but mind unable to let it go. But, that was nothing, splitting headache and circled eyes aside, Tatsuki could push it all aside, steam pawed away, air cleared, her focus:
Tsubaki-chan. Her week had been nothing like Tsubaki-chan’s, had been a heaven compared to hell, and the thought of it wanted to make everything hurt worse, like that tight, awful feeling in her chest, but that wasn’t any good. She had to have a good face for Tsubaki-chan, strong, together, and it wasn’t a lie, either, it didn’t have to be, for Tsubaki-chan.
Her shoelaces were untied. Tatsuki realized she was staring at the ground as she walked, hands locked tight on the wheelchair’s provided grips, the weight an easy push on even ground. She looked at her shoelaces and reminded herself as she lifted her chin and looked, solemnly, at the top of Tsubaki-chan’s head, not to trip. The hospital had been fine, standard, didn’t even ask what had happened, wordlessly gave Tatsuki a towel to mop the blood off the backs of her legs. But finding Tsubaki-chan, that had been…
Tatsuki shook her head, expelling the images from her mind, from settling on the backs of her eyelids. Wondering if Tsubaki-chan could allow herself that luxury, she pressed her lips together, pulling them in, tense from neck down spine. Too much to think about. It’d be inappropriate to try and talk about light things, happy things, right? This sort of thing, this sort of thing Tatsuki had no experience in.
”Nice place,” she mused, on the clinic, pushing the chair in the direction of their building. “Too bad you didn’t get casts, I could’ve drawn some stuff. Signed them, you know?”
>>
Tsubaki's own mind was still reeling. From the time Tatsuki had found her next to Muraki's dead body, she hadn't said a word. All she could do was try to cooperate and make it easier on her by wrapping her arms around her neck when she was carried, and letting the doctors do as they needed, not even crying out in pain when they cleaned and bandaged her wounds.
Her feet and ankles were wrapped snuggly in bandages... She was somewhat relieved that there weren't any casts. She didn't want such clunky things on her feet, and besides, she was already dead. It didn't matter if this meant it would take her a little longer to heal. The teenage girl understood she was supposed to stay off her feet, and she would try...but what was she supposed to do? Sit around for the next four weeks?
...Well, it didn't sound like a bad idea. Tsubaki didn't want to move again for a long time, she decided. She was sore, and...tired. But even as weary as she was, it was like a weight had been lifted off her shouldrs.
Tatsuki was attempting to cheer her up, wasn't she? Not wanting to worry her too much, Tsubaki turned her head to glance over her shoulder up at her friend, smiling wearily and nodding in tacit agreement.
>>
Silence, not awkward, not uncomfortable, but sad. Not quite a silence because Tsubaki-chan was there to look at her, to confirm her words with that a least, even if Tatsuki could see that Tsubaki-chan was only humoring her. It pissed her off--at herself, because Tsubaki-chan shouldn’t have had to humor her, she should have known what the right thing to say was, if right was nothing.
Tatsuki smiled back, keeping the strain off her face. What to say when, like vomit, like convulsions in the throat, the only that that wanted to rise up and force out of her mouth was ‘I’m sorry’, too many apologies that couldn’t cover it. And she wanted to sigh, to bury her face in her hands and groan or laugh--how do you cheer someone up after this? After that? It had to be impossible.
It had to be insensitive, and Tatsuki resolved to keep her mouth shut. If she’d been in Tsubaki-chan’s place, she, probably, wouldn’t have wanted to say much, either. Her foot caught on a loose lace, but not enough to trip her, barely enough for a stumble. Putting a little more effort into a hill, Tatsuki tried to clear her mind of all thought, of all tiring anxiety.
>>
There was the unmistakable sound of Tatsuki tripping all of the sudden, and Tsubaki was startled out of her daze again to look down and back. When she noticed the shoelaces, she just had to frown. Were here shoelaces untied the whole time, or had it happened during the walk over?
Maybe she was just tired. She felt guilty suddenly, and her hands in her lap clenched tightly as she looked back ahead of her. She hadn't been roommates with Tatsuki for long, but it was amazing how close she felt they had gotten. Tatsuki had done so much for her...and why? Tsubaki never had anything to give in return. Her cooking was awful, and she could never clean anything as spotless as some girls.
When Tatsuki had only tried to talk sense into her, Tsubaki had yelled at her, and the guilt only became heavier, like a weight on her shoulders once again. An...obligation to make it right.
She stayed still and quiet for the rest of the trip, all the way until they finally reached their apartment.
As soon as they were through the door, Tsubaki put her hands on the chair's arm rests to push herself up and out of it. Her legs shook as she stood, but she bit her lip and forced herself to endure just long enough to grab onto the back of the couch for support, staggering on her way to the kitchen. She wouldn't depend on Tatsuki...or anyone again. That was what had gotten her into the mess!
Now she would stand on her own two feet.
>>
Worst walk home ever, Tatsuki decided as she wheeled Tsubaki-chan into their room. Worst, most awkward, it wasn’t working. This stupid feeling, this crazy thing, over a girl she barely knew. Worst, and something would have to change, or she’d lose it, and Tatsuki had no intention of doing that. She let go of the chair, intending to clamp her hands onto her waist and declare, if a little too brightly, Welcome Home!
But Tsubaki-chan was moving, and Tatsuki’s jaw dropped before she could react to what it was she was seeing. “H-hey, Tsubaki-chan, stop, you need to…you need to stay off your feet!”
Her eyes sweeping toward the ground, fretting over the status of Tsubaki-chan’s feet, she hastened around the chair but did not rush immediately to the other girl’s side. Something made her hesitate, slipped lead into her heels, caught her words in her throat. It was a look on Tsubaki-chan’s face, maybe, or a vague comprehension of what was going on. Tatsuki stood at the ready, should the girl fall, but…
”What… what are you doing, Tsubaki-chan? They told you…!”
>>
Tsubaki paused when Tatsuki's voice reached her ears, and she stumbled as if about to fall. Her free hand shot out to grab the back of the couch as well, and she pushed with all her might to stay upright. "I don't care! I can take care of myself. Tatsuki-chan, y-you've...you've done enough! I shouldn't have asked you to come to get me. It was selfish!"
Finally reaching the edge of the kitchen, she reached out to cling to the wall, and finally the counter. It was a relief once she got there, because then she could just drop down to sit on the floor while she opened up one of the cabinets. She didn't want to think. How could she feel hurt and numb at the same time?!
"I'm so selfish... That's why this happened! I depend too much on other people, and I hurt them just so I could be happy!" Finally finding what she had been looking for, she located the sake bottle they had gotten quite a few nights ago. She could still remember Hisoka scolding her for drinking, and that made her pause before shaking her head and trying to stand again so that she could get a small cup.
>>
Reflex: Tsubaki-chan stumbled and Tatsuki took a step, her hands jerking out for support. But Tsubaki-chan did not fall, and what she was saying was so insane, so ludicrous, so completely beyond any realm of possibility, that Tatsuki’s hands did find her hips, exasperation exhaled in a heavy, disbelieving snort. Are you kidding? Could she be serious? What she wanted to ask, halted by her attention so devoted to the other girl’s progress along the wall.
Tatsuki followed her into the kitchen and, thought tempted to drop onto the floor beside her, stood instead by an opposite counter, looking down at the frantic girl. She had a feeling, simply from knowing where things were--were the knives still under the couch, she wondered, a thought quickly dismissed-- what it was Tsubaki-chan sought.
The more she spoke, the more Tatsuki wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake. She was lucky she was handicapped, right now, so rather than loosening Tsubaki-chan’s teeth, as she tried to stand Tatsuki was there, clamping her hand beneath her elbow. Hard.
”You’re an idiot,” she said, blunt and tired. “If you think that. I’m bringing you to a chair, and then I’ll get you a cup, okay? No ifs or buts.”
>>
Startled out of her rambling, Tsubaki shifted to look at her friend again, shocked by the insult. Then she smiled a little, as if...relieved by the insult, but for her own reasons. The way Tatsuki looked right then, with her expression, and how her tone sounded, all she could think of was Hisoka.
And that made her quick to turn away and sit back on the floor beside the sake bottle. "I don't need a chair," she whispered. "I'm not a pampered princess anymore. The floor is comfortable enough."
Still, worn out and shy, the girl tipped her head to glance up. "Sit with me?"
>>
The floor. Sitting on the floor. Tatsuki found herself looking down again, in her bemused expression a small smile. Pampered princess? At Tsubaki-chan’s request, Tatsuki obliged, dropping easy to the floor, crossing her legs in front of her. She arched her eyebrows at Tsubaki-chan once she was settled, having twisted to get her back against the cabinet, to sag, not quite out of notice, back against it.
”You know,” she said, folding her hands behind her head, eying the sake bottle. “…We paupers sit in chairs, too.”
Sure, Tsubaki-chan could be a little selfish, could act like a princess, but this guilt was absurd, after what had been done to her. It made Tatsuki want to hit something, hard, to shatter through the wood behind her head, a good slam to match the ache in her head and the thumping in her ribs.
”Can’t believe I was glad to be in this place, for once,” she muttered, dropping her arms so to hold out one for the sake.
>>
Tatsuki's comment made her cover her mouth, cheeks flushing a soft pink out of embarrassment out of implying that Tatsuki might have been a pauper. "I didn't mean it that way..."
At the offered hand, Tsubaki reached over to her other side to pick up the bottle, handing it over, though her hands trembled as she held it. Her grip was weak and tired, which was no surprise after what she had been through. Her body might have still been experiencing a mild shock.
"...Glad?" Tsubaki stretched out her legs so that she didn't put any weight on her feet, arranging her skirt to carefully cover herself. As she smoothed it out, her gaze caught on the blood that had dried by now. "...I'm glad...you're here, too. I know I have other friends but still..." A palm was rubbed against her skirt, as if she was able to push the blood away. "Sometimes I feel all alone. Even with Hisoka...I felt like I was by myself in that relationship."
"...Sensei--...Mm. ...Muraki always called me Camille. My name aside... Do you know what Camille references?"
>>
Tsubaki-chan blushed, covered her mouth, and Tatsuki laughed. Loudly, a little too hard when a chuckle would have sufficed, leaning too hard into the joy to try and suppress all the other stuff that was mucking up her head. “Oh, geeze, Tsubaki-chan, there’s no need to look like that. I was teasing!”
Tatsuki took the bottle from her quivering hands, and tried not to notice that they were, to draw attention to them with a concerned stare. She opened the bottle and took a swig, then another, before sliding it back to the other girl. Who, however much escaping things through alcohol might not be the best idea, clearly needed it more.
As Tsubaki-chan moved, she watched, watched the delicacy of her movements, the way the skirt fell, hesitating over the bandages on her feet, hesitating for a different reason on the stains on her skirt. Tatsuki reached up to scratch blunt nails against the back of her neck. It wasn’t really what she had meant by glad, she had meant the City, where Tsubaki-chan could suffer something awful but still live. In a fashion. She let her talk, though, nodding, oddly touched in a way a girl like her wasn’t too good at expressing.
”Camille?” Tatsuki shook her head. Sensei? Muraki? And this Irene, it was all over her head. Tatsuki focused on the simple, the concrete, emotional truths: Tsubaki-chan was her roommate and her new friend, and all the history and fucked up shit aside, Tatsuki would be there for her. Even if she’d fucked it up, a little.
”No, I don’t know. …You don’t need to tell me, you know.”
>>
The sake bottle was set beside her, and Tsubaki eyed it for a long moment. She had never had a drink of something that wasn't from a cup... Drinking out of the bottle was beyond barbaric. But she had said herself...no longer a pampered princess. Wasn't that right?
Carefully, she lifted it up, though what she had could have been classified as more of a dainty sip. But then, she had to be careful, as her tolerance was the worst. Setting the bottle back down between them, Tsubaki darted her tongue over her lips and resisted the urge to wipe at her mouth with her hand.
Instead she folded her hands in her lap and smiled a bit, though there was a hint of sadness there. "It's a reference to a novel that was turned into an opera...as well as a ballet. La Dame aux Camélias, or Lady of the Camellias. It's a story about a man named Armand, later changed to Camille, who falls for a courtesan."
Lifting her arms up, Tsubaki shifted from her position to push up onto her knees, away from the cabinet so that she could fan out her arms in a graceful swoop, as if mimicing a ballet herself. And she was, really, her voice soft as she spoke.
"She's sick, and doesn't want to hurt him... His father doesn't approve. But they love each other so." Crossing her hands at the wrists, Tsubaki swung one leg around to stretch out in front of her, though she remained seated, and began to lean back. She didn't stop until her back had curved, and she tipped her head back to look at Tatsuki.
"She tries to leave him for his own sake, but in the end it doesn't matter. Her illness takes her as she confesses her love." In a woosh of air, the girl smoothly sat back up, arms crossing over her chest as she leaned back over, halting once her forehead was about to touch her knee. "Ah. I warn you--lucky in love, unlucky at cards," she quoted in a whisper.
>>
It was kind of fun to watch Tsubaki-chan, though a little weird, too. Tatsuki had discovered this long before today, but the way that her roommate moved was one way in which she did not remind her, at all, of Orihime. Orihime had energy, had a kind of clumsy grace, enthusiasm that was soft and spilling over her pretty outline. Tatsuki had reserve, moved like the sort of people a tomboy from Karakura Town never encountered, dainty and small, like six hundred lessons on etiquette embodied in a single feminine paradigm.
Not the sort of thing Tatsuki would normally appreciate, but it was different enough to catch her attention. The minute the bottle was back, Tatsuki had it in a rough grip around its neck, tipping it back carelessly, indifferent to germs or sharing spit. Her tolerance was pretty low, too: Tatsuki never drank back home, just didn’t have the interest, nothing for or against the act.
Listening, watching Tsubaki-chan, Tatsuki kept her hand on the bottle but forgot to drink again. Ballet was another thing Tatsuki didn’t really care for; watching the Tempest had almost put her to sleep more than once. Tsubaki-chan, now, however, with this odd sort of grace, mimicking it with ruptured feet… Tatsuki couldn’t look away. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like the story, and flashed a frown down at the bottle.
”That doesn’t have anything to do with you,” Tatsuki said, insisted, really, obstinately. “Muraki sounded like a creep. Must’ve been an idiot, too.”
She fought a scowl as she offered the bottle.
>>
Tatsuki's reaction surprised her, and it was a pleasant surprise. Yet again, she covered her mouth to hide a smile before nodding and scooting back to lean against the counter again. "Muraki was a brilliant doctor...and good at manipulating. But he miscalculated."
Taking the bottle up herself, Tsubaki stared down at it for a few awkward moments before picking it up to have a longer drink. Really, she didn't like the taste of sake. It was bitter and she nearly had a gag reflex every time, but it took all of her manners and willpower to keep from doing so.
She did wipe her hand against her mouth, though, before smoothing out her skirt again nervously. "He thought I wouldn't be able to kill him. That's why he put Irene to sleep."
With a sigh, she shut her eyes, a shudder crawling up her spine at the memory of his dead body, and she instincetively moved closer to lean against Tatsuki, nuzzling against her shoulder. "I'm glad it's over. Even if I've no one to love anymore... I'd rather be alone than be somebody's puppet."
>>
Tatsuki, unaware of Tsubaki-chan’s history with Dr. Muraki--that body, a dead body, like her teammates on that day, but bloodier--didn’t completely understand. She supposed it was one of those things that she wouldn’t understand in full, not ever, and it was too easy to quell the desire to want to, to need to know more. This was enough.
It had been her, then. Tatsuki tried not to look too surprised, to think, Tsubaki-chan killed that man for something he hadn’t even done. Maybe--she still didn’t trust that kid, but any opportunity to prove otherwise had been lost. She realized, sitting there, that she’d have to apologize to him like promised, and fought a rather immature scowl as she reached for the bottle.
Tatsuki lifted the arm closer to Tsubaki-chan, to sling it around her shoulders as she moved closer. She squeezed. “No one to love?”
She shook her head, wanting to protest, there’s more than just that kind of love, and there are loads of people here. But something else caught her attention. Tatsuki took a swig, wiped the excess sake from around her mouth, and peered at Tsubaki-chan. “Alone over a puppet? You didn’t feel like a puppet with Hisoka, did you?”
>>
Her cheeks flushed then, and she was quick to shake his head. "No! Hisoka, he... He wanted me to be free. He couldn't understand my feelings for Muraki. If only I had listened to him then, I wouldn't have had to--"
Cutting herself off, the teen's shoulders rose and fell along with a silent sigh. "He sometimes made me feel like a princess again. Always ready to protect me... He would get so flustered and cute just from a kiss. For seven months, we've been..."
Recollecting her time with Hisoka only pained her all over again, and she hung her head while trying not to cry. "And now he's gone. But that's better. Hisoka is a shinigami... He has work to do with Tsuzuki-san. I went them to be happy together, and strong."
>>
Hisoka. Maybe a bad thing to bring up, and Tatsuki berated herself, though Tsubaki-chan seemed to be okay with it. She patted her hand against Tsubaki-chan’s shoulder as the girl spoke, looking with badly disguised concern. Concern turned to a gleam of pride, her fingers halting the pat-pat-pat, pressing down. After everything she had been through, to come out with such a mature attitude! Mature, and something else.
Tatsuki exhaled hard, taking the bottle by its neck and giving it a hard jerk, swinging her hand into a circle. “Geeze, you’re really too much, Tsubaki-chan.”
A small sip, then she pushed the bottle insistently at the other girl. “Shinigami really are everywhere these days, huh,” Tatsuki half-grumbled, even knowing that it was different, if not how, for Hisoka. “Not a selfish bone in your body, huh? Or, is that how you think it should be?”
Tatsuki looked down, gaze irresistibly drawn to Tsubaki-chan’s feet. She shook hr head. “It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to want him back. That’s a really great attitude you have, but are you sure that’s all there is? It’s…really soon. Feels sort of like…”
With her hand freed of the bottle, Tatsuki used it to rub the back of her head, uncombed hair shifting around her fingers. “Like, I can’t keep up with you.”
>>
Tsubaki was quickly learning that the more she drank, the less she tasted it...which was honestly a good thing in this case. Feeling just the slightest bit more relaxed now, even if her heart still hurt and her soul ached, it was still good to know she can smile.
Tipping her head back, she took a long drink before needing to quickly set it down to cough into her hands. Just a bit too much in one gulp, not to mention slight shock at Tatsuki's commentary.
Her roommate was someone she never expected to hear such a thing from. Tatsuki was everything that Tsubaki dreamed to be...minus the pants. But really, she was strong and powerful, and free to speak her mind, and she didn't let anyone push her around. To think she couldn't keep up with weak little Tsubaki...
A blush back on her cheeks, Tsubaki gazed up at her, eyes shimmering with emotion. "To hear that from someone I admire so much...! Nobody's ever said such a nice thing about me before. Thank you."
Spur of the moment, Tsubaki flung her arms around her friend's neck to hug her tightly.
>>
Tatsuki’s low tolerance enabled her to have a slight buzz, at this point, with the heaviness of the drinks she had been taken. It made her more keen to lean into Tsubaki-chan, or to let the girl lean into her. She was okay, or she would be, though thinking of what she must’ve gone through, of her having no eyes and lost beneath this “Irene”, it made her stomach twist something awful.
This reaction surprised Tatsuki, and she looked down with confusion. What was with that look? It only got worse with the words, and she opened her mouth to protest, something, when Tsubaki-chan had thrown herself on her. Gaping, Tatsuki’s arms moved around her back, returning the hug as best she could as she sputtered.
“H-hey, Tsubaki-chan, careful!” A glance down, as ever, to Tsubaki-chan’s legs. Then, she blinked. Repeatedly, and didn’t quite blush, but looked more than a little confused, a crooked grin coming up despite that.
”…Admire? Since when did you admire me? I mean, I’m pretty great, sure, but that’s something I usually have to tell people.”
>>
Tatsuki's words only made her grin as well, and she giggled before pinching the other girl's shoulder lightly. "Tatsuki-chan forgot? I told you I admired you the last time we had too much to drink! But I can't blame you... I don't remember too much of that night, either."
The hangover the next day had been enough to make Tsubaki want to just sleep in her nice dark closet all day... It had been a miracle of God that she'd been able to get out of bed, let alone do ballet.
Ballet. Would her feet ever heal enough for her to do it again?
Shaking that thought off, Tsubaki reached up to tap Tatsuki on the nose. "And what's why I do! Because you're so ready to tell people... You're proud and brave and stubborn. Like a boy! But...much better. I think I've had my fill of boys."
>>
It didn’t hurt, but Tatsuki faked an “Ow!” of protest anyway, ruined someone by the laughter in her voice.
”Eeeeh, you did?” Weird, that she had forgotten something like that! It was the sort of thing, Tatsuki figured, that she’d want to remember. She must’ve gotten much more smashed than she had thought, and Tatsuki reflected that she really, really needed to watch it. The dark memories of the next day made her hesitate before reaching for the sake bottle again. Maybe just to cap it.
Another blink, now as Tsubaki-chan tapped her nose, the gesture teasing and familiar. She was completely unused to receiving compliments in such abundance, or at least, honest sounding ones that had nothing to do with the length of her legs in proportion to the gross of the guy spouting it.
”Like a boy?” She asked, her grin widening even as a furrow dug between her brows. Some compliment. Well, s’long as she was better. “Yeah,” Tatsuki agreed, lifting her hand to slide it through Tsubaki-chan’s hair, more of a gentle tousle, the impetus for a noogie lost with the reminder that this Tsubaki-chan. “Boys are pigs. Thick-headed or thinking with the wrong head, all of them!”
>>
Her head ducked a bit under the tousle, and her laugh was light and airy as she tried to smooth her hair back again. "Ah, it's true Hisoka could be thick-headed, but what do you mean other head?"
It was just one of those things you needed to repeat out loud before understanding, because almost as soon as Tsubaki heard herself say it, she clapped her hands over her mouth, cheeks bright red and her head shaking. Voice muffled through her hands, she tried not to giggle...and was horribly unsuccessful. "Oh my! Tatsuki-chan, you're horribly vulgar. But I promise you, Hisoka wasn't like that! And I know Kazumi-kun and Cassian aren't like that."
Hisoka, after all, had even turned away her sexual advances on their six-month anniversary. While it was true that it made her feel rejected in some ways, it reminded her that there was so much more to him. He was a deep person, and she would regret not getting even more time to know him.
But as she dropped her hands to smile up at Tatsuki again, she knew that she still had some things to be grateful for. She had friends who cared for her, and she would cherish them for as long as she could.
>>
“Horribly vulgar?” Tatsuki asked with a laugh, “I’m just honest, Tsubaki-chan.” It was cute, the way Tsubaki-chan reacted, a little like Orihime but different, too—even more girly. She’d always known girls like that existed, probably had known a few of them vaguely—a girl in her pre-school, had called Tatsuki a tomboy and though it had been true, Tatsuki’d hit her on principle. Ribbon girl shrieked, Tatsuki’d gotten into a load of trouble, and sworn off princesses from that day forth.
Yet, there she was, sitting next to one such girl, picking up a bottle of sake to close. They’d had enough, and it probably wasn’t a good idea for Tsubaki-chan to get into the habit of turning to sake when upset. Tatsuki shifted, so to gain access to the cupboard and put away the bottle. Having done so, she glanced at the other girl in time to catch her smile.
It made her feel guilty in a weird, stupid way that she didn’t like at all. Kicking it away, Tatsuki bared her teeth in a sunny grin and, unlike her, tossed her arms around the girl in a quick, rough hug. She’d take care of her, this time. She wouldn’t screw it up again, not ever again.