Strength and Fatality
an excerpt

Rain poured down in merciless sheets, pounding into the floor, pounding away the sound; washing away the smell of blood, washing away the red color. Broken bodies were strewn everywhere amongst groans and stifled sobs. The fight that day had been much more violent than usual, but as always, no one remembered the reason why it started; no one ever did. It was probably another drunken fight; people just like her who found relief from the world amongst their own kind, the kind that would just as soon slug you in the face as hug you. They were all the same here, they could fight each other, kill each other, and no one would blame the other.

As usual, she sat on the first story windowsill of the old abandoned house they fought near. It was her seat now, just as this place had somehow become her second home. She was ruler here, a place where nothing mattered but strength and cunning. Blood ran down her forehead, perhaps her own, perhaps someone else’s. At least two of her bones must have been splintered, nothing broken though; broken bones hurt a hell of a lot more. The rain drenched her thin jacket, but she wasn’t cold yet, the adrenaline from the fight hadn’t worn off yet. She would feel cold once it did. The only thing cold was the churning feeling inside the pit of her stomach. This was her life; fighting until her muscles screamed at her, fighting until her heart tore apart, fighting until her mind stopped thinking about this meaningless existence; fighting with her hands, fighting with her words, fighting with her heart. It didn’t matter if it was at home or at the old abandoned house. She was so tired of fighting. If it had been a few years earlier, this would be about the time she would break down and start crying; silent tears that were unrecognizable from the rain, no sound besides the rain splattering against the floor.

Takuto had killed himself yesterday. It wasn’t much news to anyone, but the thought suddenly entered her head. Had he been tired of fighting as well, like her? It was a harsh life, but it was still life. Each blow was proof she was alive, each stab was proof that she existed.

‘Existed for what?’ a small ember of thought nagged at her. She deftly stomped out the flicker. Apparently she hadn’t fought long enough today if her mind was still bothering her about things like that. The rain was beginning to feel cold, but she didn’t want to go home yet. She scanned the floor around her. Most of the people were unconscious and those who were still awake were too dazed too move. She would have been like that as well, if it weren’t for the fact that she hadn’t fought as much as usual. That was the problem with this group, all muscles and no brains. It wasn’t hard to get them to start punching each other and watch from the sidelines; watch until her confused heart and muddled mind forced her to fight so that she could forget about those heavy feelings. Before each fight (and she never fought unless her emotions were bothering her) she always wanted to scream, to cry or laugh, to run away. That was what she wanted to do, to run and keep running until her feet no longer could carry her, until she couldn’t see the old abandoned house anymore, to run until she could scream and cry and laugh. But there was nowhere to run too. She didn’t belong anywhere else but here; she couldn’t belong anywhere else but here. And yet, she didn’t belong here. This was the last place she wanted to belong to, but it was the only place she belonged to. She could fight, she could lie, she could take out a guy twice her size without breaking a sweat. But she wanted to play, she wanted to go to school, she had a heart that hadn’t stopped beating and feeling. She didn’t drown her feelings in alcohol or drugs either; those were things that would bind you. You became addicted and bound to something that you couldn’t let go of. That was the worst feeling in the world, to be bound. Yet she was bound to this place, so would it really make a difference if she drank her cares away?

“It does,” she decided annoyingly; alcohol tasted disgusting. It was too bitter. Someone groaned and snapped her out of her current train crash of random thoughts. People were beginning to get up; it was time to go home. Hopping off the windowsill, she paused just long enough to grab the two guys nearest to her and hoist them up.

“All right, fight’s over, go home,” she said curtly, much like an older sister would, and gently pushed the two dazed teens towards the trailer park where she knew the two brothers lived. The boys walked forwards in a half-awake state, leaning on each other when one of them threatened to fall over; whether from a hangover or from injuries she wasn’t sure. She watched them walk for a while, half expecting both boys to collapse right in the middle of the street.
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And he was back the next day. Once again, it was a fleeting passing, there and gone, leaving nothing in his wake but a small ticket to the new drama coming out in theatres that day. She crumpled the small strip of paper and threw it in the trash.

For a week it continued like that; him leaving small items from everyday life, a life she never had, and her throwing away the items with mounting frustration when it becamse obvious this march of gifts would not stop.
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Lio yawned, leaning back and covering his mouth. It was getting late, but he hadn’t finished his draft yet. The editor would be over in a day or two, and he had to at least manage to look like he had made progress. Truth be told, the story wasn’t going anywhere. He had hit a dead end, and so soon after inspiration had struck too.

With a sigh, he sat up straight again, determined to give his full attention to the screen in front of him. Since he couldn’t work from his current point, he decided to start on another part of the story and connect the two later. Slowly, but with quickening speed, he began to flesh out the second part of the story. He was so concentrated on his work that he didn’t hear the light footfalls behind him. Even if he hadn’t been busy, he probably still wouldn’t have noticed. Kana had a lot of practice walking silently, her steps making almost no noise at all. In a surprise attack, making too much noise meant trouble, whether from the enemy or from your teammates later for blowing their cover.

Kana stopped behind the older boy, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She had woken up when she heard something crash. Judging from the room, Lio had thrown a pillow in frustration, which just happened to hit the bookshelf, sending the lighter ones tumbling down, which in turn caused the heavier ones to fall as well since they were so precariously leaning against each other. She shook her head; Lio wasn’t even fazed. She propped her elbow on his shoulder, leaning towards the computer screen.

“You’re still writing?”

Lio almost jumped when he suddenly felt someone touch his shoulder. Only the past four months of experience he had gathered living with Kana diluted his reaction. Instead, he leaned back and nearly fell out of his chair. Kana caught and steadied him immediately though. He sighed as he felt his feet on firm ground once again. The younger girl once again propped her elbow on his shoulder as soon as he was righted. Lio couldn’t snap at her since she had just saved him a bruise or two, so he contented himself with glaring at her accusingly.

“What? I was asleep! You’re the one that woke me with the literature landslide,” she retorted at his glare, motioning towards the large pile of books. Lio looked over and noticed them for the first time.

“When did those fall?”

She sighed, giving up. “Never mind, why are you still up?”

“Huh? Well,” Lio pulled his attention away from the ‘literature landslide’ to respond, “I have to finish this by tomorrow, or the day after at the latest. Ms. Busybody prefers to check up on all her victims to make sure we’re properly stressed out and panicking.”

“Ms. Busybody? Victims?” Kana asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Ms. Bursody,” Lio sighed, “She’s a good editor and publisher, but she has impossible standards and deadlines. She constantly scares everyone with surprise check up’s and updates. You want to know how I got her last message? Attached onto a toy arrow, you know, the kind with a suction cup at the end, flying through my window.”

Kana just stared for a second, not quite processing the whole thing. Slowly though, she felt a tickle in her throat and warm feeling well up in her chest. She couldn’t help it, pearls of laughter burst out of her mouth. Something about that idea just seemed so ridiculous, yet so incredibly normal that she couldn’t stop laughing at it.

“H-Hey!” Lio turned his chair to look at her in a mixture of surprise and apprehension, “Keep it down! The neighbors are going to complain!” He wanted her to quiet down, but he also wanted to watch her laugh a bit longer as well. She was smiling more these days, but laughter was still rare and in between.

Kana grinned apologetically and covered her mouth, muffling her laughter. He gave a wry grin himself, not reprimanding her any further. For a while they stayed in that comfortable atmosphere, with her muffled laughter ringing in the silent room. Eventually though, her laughter died down and once again the room was quiet. Kana looked at him and smiled, not bothering to say anything.

“Get to sleep,” he stated simply, reaching up to rustle her hair, flipping her bangs over to the left side. Kana stuck her tongue out at him, straightening her hair before turning and walking towards her room. He turned back to the computer, ready to tackle the looming deadline.

“Don’t stay up too late, alright?” Kana commented at the doorway, turning back to glance at him. Lio raised a hand to wave, showing that he had heard her. With a sigh and small grin, she turned back around and went inside, shutting the door behind her softly.