Broken: Part 11 “Mukuro”

6/10/00

By: Hikari

Notes: I won’t let this drag on forever; all parts have significance. I never write something for nothing ( or at least I try not to () )

All disclaimers apply.

*****

When the storm stopped, I left my stay at Yusuke’s apartment, and set forth for Makai. To do this, I had to phase gates onto the next world. However, the beings in both Reikai and the Makai took no notice in me. Even to them, I am invisible. Not that they would have helped me much in the first place, therefore it really made no difference. Still, I am hoping to find some sort of answer or at least clue about my sudden erasure. The most likely resolution to everything, is that I am dead. Yet, there is not enough evidence to prove this.

Walking through the thick and lush marshes, I hear a long stream of profanity coming from the springs. My hands brush away the long-standing blades of grass, a few of them whipping across my shoulders, nose, and cheeks- tickling them. Straining to see across the pond, my vision falls upon a tall, wiry woman. Thin, albeit, well-built and composed. Her ginger colored hair was combed all to one side, and her body was covered with scars. Two of her limbs were metal, one right arm and the top half of her left leg. This person undoubtedly was Mukuro. She was stark naked and solitary, apparently washing herself. She holds onto a rock, putting great endeavor into avoiding getting her handicaps rusted. Mukuro fails, and slips, water splashing in vast upsurges. When the water settles, ripples only moving, she fists the water fiercely and screams out of aggravation. Mukuro labors over this all the time, such a simple task- to her is the most difficult part of the day. Calming down, she just sits there, looking deeply into her reflection in the lake. Her face filled with remorse…

*****

I looked around, making sure there is no one to spy on me. Finding that all is clear, I hide within the turf and remove a dagger; which was secreted inside a fold in my pants. Drawing it out, the mid-day sun of this world tracing over its lethal edge, I slide it against the inside of my arm. I feel the warmth of my blood trickle and coat over my skin. Quite a bit of it dropping onto the green, making the plants droop from the weight. The knife moves from mid-arm, to my wrist. Straightening it, I dig into my main veins, sometimes screwing the tip around. The heat of the blood turns cool, and my nerves are damaged to the point I couldn’t feel anything. The sensation of red leaving my body is queer. There is no throbbing, no stinging, or any sort of pain. I just sense liquid abandoning my body, through a hole or through a long slit. That’s all it is… leaking.

The grass beneath me crunches as I lay back. I squirm around for a while, until I found a position where the itching was subtle. The light from the sun masks my chilled face, and the blood, which had swathed my broken tissues, dried and altered into brown. The seeping from my self-inflicted wounds slowed; I sat-up again to hide the cuts with my bandages.

This day was coming to a close, so I decided to head back into Mukuro’s strong hold. My boots squished as a walked over the semi-wet marshes. If I hadn’t been so despondent, I would have taken the time to acknowledge that it was a pleasant day. Instead, I merely walked on, head concentrating on my own footsteps. Each pace, I observe, had my foot sucked into mud. Every time my foot went down, so did the earth, and water ran over my boots. When my foot went up, so did the plant life, and the water retreated into its designated place- the springs. Even though I haven’t eaten for the longest period of time, am I still so heavy to you?

“DAMN IT!” At this, a flock of birds took flight, squawking noisily and getting a hold of my interest.

“Argh! How I hate this!”

I change my coarse in direction completely, and carefully moved my way down the ravine to the pool. I nearly lost my foothold, but catch myself by snagging a hand onto a close tree trunk. The individual at the bottom hears the rustling, and peers in between the long stalks of bamboo- sapphire orbs shimmering. Long fingers pull the shoots apart, bending them far away and un-curtaining her slender face.

“Oh, it’s you… You’re becoming rather clumsy these days.” She utters in a deliberate monotone.

“Hn. You’re not exactly very graceful at the moment either- eat your words.”

“That’s only because I’m bathing.”

“If you can call it that…”

“Shut up!” Mukuro releases the bamboo, the tan leaves thrashing, and turns back to her business. Through the brush, I can still tell she is struggling to stand without getting the metal part of her thy wet. At the same time, she uses a sponge with her left hand to rinse the rest of herself off. Naturally, it was strenuous for her to reach behind her back, and to other various parts of her form. In some way, this woman’s quandary heartens me… I feel… pity…

“By the time you’ve sponged down the soap, it will be nightfall.”

Mukuro snorts arrogantly, determined not to let my grotesque comments stab through her. It earns a small quantity of admiration. “ Well, it’s not like I’m not used to it. Go back to camp, you should turn-in before I lose my temper.”

Advancing forward, until the chilling water arrived at my waist, I peek through the stalks, hands proceeding to thrust them apart so I may walk through. “Whether you like it or not- you’re going to get help.”

Her head whisks around, jagged hair temporarily flying through a breeze like flames. “What ever happened to privacy?”

“I spared you that question when you glued me back together six or seven years ago.” I motion the suggestion for her to sit on a large rock peaking out of the lake. As I had expected, she scowls and wraps her yellow towel around her figure before she props on the stone. As disgruntled as she was, Mukuro shoves the sponge into my palms so forcefully I just barely kept from hurling rearward. She’s a humor, especially when she’s angry. Her close encounters to self-combustion were all I needed to crack a smirk. Now, that sentiment was lost. I hardy blink at her outbursts anymore.

“It’s not so often you show compassion…” She whispers, as I swab the back of her arm. From there, I lifted the locks from behind the nape of her neck, and then washed her whole back. So many scars… draped about her once perfect ivory skin. Regardless of the known that these were old wounds, Mukuro’s skin still flaked and peeled. At times, it even blemished or reddened.

“Lift your arm, I need to get the underside.” Mukuro grunts gruffly, and holds her nose to the air. Still, she unwillingly obeyed.

“Don’t treat me like a child.”

I said nothing, and lathered soap until it foamed and bubbled. Later, I water it off by squeezing and wringing the dab. Consequently, blood mingled with the wash and oozed onto the lake’s plane. In reaction to this, I cringe over the nipping of cleanser. I glance at the fold of my arm. Scarlet was splotching the binding, streaming out and dying the tattered strips of cloth almost fully.

“What the DEVIL?!?!” Mukuro takes my arm and swings me in front of her- so quickly, I hardly remembered being behind her. Holding my arm in place, she unravels the bandage swiftly and tosses it aside- the wind catching it and taking it away from the upcoming dispute. “You’re bleeding like HELL!!! Where did this come from?!?!”

“Training.” I lied bluntly.

Her head snaps up, rage vacillating in her voice. “DON’T lie to me!!! I HATE lies!” She examines the slashes once more. “You did this to yourself didn’t you?!”

The exclamation was more of a statement than a question. I refused to answer her, so I looked away and allowed her to bitch all she wanted. In the place of what I’ve been hearing for who knows how long- she gave me something akin to a judicious lecture.

“You bastard! If you dared to have done such a thing... have no doubt in your mind that I shall never forgive you! How could you do this? Tearing your own body to shreds as though it were nothing, but mere rags! Do you know what it means to have a body?!?!"

“Hn! I haven’t poured acid over myself yet, have I?!”

Mukuro’s icy hand chokes my neck. I note that she’s gripping me in a method that keeps her nails from slicing my throat. She hauls my face to her level, until our lashes fluttered against each other- and I found myself lost in her eyes. How angry they are, stormy and ready to strike a flash of violent lightning. Her teeth grinded until I thought they would turn into powder.

“I had put up with your wise-cracks before, but for what you have just said- you are nothing… NOTHING but a whole world of endless SHIT!!!” I assumed her hissing had ended right there, however, she continued by throwing me back. I fell into the water, it invading into my lungs and breath. Slowly, I resurface- coughing and spitting. Mukuro was already on shore, starring me down with the spite I so rightfully deserved.

“I would have predicted this from any of the others in my army… but not you…” She spoke softly that time, tragedy hinting around every word. Her demeanor was no longer hard and firm, it was willowy and gave the impression that she had been beaten over and over. Mukuro swallowed. Swallowed her tears, her hurt, and her indignity. “Not from you…” Spinning on her heel, she walked away at a small fox’s pace.

All my limbs went paralyzed. I hurt her. I had hurt another friend.

*****

That was a long time ago. I never found the courage to talk to her outside of warfare after the incident. I couldn’t bring myself to her face, nor was I ever able to apologize. Mukuro never expelled me from her military though. She still kept me. Yet, the understanding towards each other we once shared was crushed. Obliterated.

I couldn’t look at her, and she couldn’t look at me. She no longer spoke to me in her usual way, her demanding nonetheless warm way. Rather, she spoke coldly- soullessly. There were no laughs, no smirks, or retorts. Her bionic arm and leg were not a part of her anymore. SHE became a part of THEM. I didn’t just hurt her… I KILLED her… I… killed… Mukuro…