CHILDREN OF SARJALIM

by Angela

 

Tuesday, Day Nine:

 

"It's all perfectly familiar," Sakura was saying as she ran her fingers over the pitted wall of the hallway.  "Like we never even left."

 

"Except that it's cold and dark and covered in moss and weeds," Issei corrected, pulling his fingers away from a lichen-encased power panel.  "Everything's damp, too, as though it's been raining in here."

 

Sakura paused, casting him a scolding glare.  "I meant the layout of the base.  Isn't it wild that we remember where we're going as though we'd lived here recently?"

 

Issei found the deja vu uncanny and almost spooky.  Before now, his recollections of his previous life had been disjointed memories.  Now they flowed smoothly, one into the next like a continuing film.  Being aware of so much time confused him, making him forget which aspects of himself were Issei and which belonged solely to Enju. 

 

After sleeping so soundly upon their arrival, Issei had been eager to get out and explore the base.  Jinpachi was already gone, but Sakura had arrived outside his door, amazingly cheerful and wrapped in the robes they'd all worn before.  They'd spent the day exploring.

 

Issei felt a little guilty, having a relaxing day of sightseeing while Rin was hard at work with the computers.  Apparently Shion had layered new programs over old programs, using complex coding and security systems.  The kid was clearly having trouble unraveling the knots of the puzzle; he'd been at it five hours and the main power wasn't yet activated.  In the pale blue light of the back-up system, the base looked even more like something from a dream.

 

They hadn't come across Jinpachi yet.  Alice was in the sick room, looking after Haruhiko and talking with Mikuro.  They'd found Daisuke in the library, nose in a book and oblivious of his surroundings.  Rin was of course working in the main computer room, under the close supervision of Nadeshiko and Hinagiku.  Issei wondered where his friend had hidden himself--they'd explored almost the entire base.

 

"Issei!  Look at this!"  Sakura stood on tiptoe, peering into the window of yet another sliding door.  "It's Mokuren's garden!"

 

Issei looked over her shoulder.  Since their last talk by the river, things had basically reverted back to how they used to be.  He wasn't sure how he felt about that, about knowing how his friend felt and watching her hide it under a cloak of normalcy.  "Wanna go in?" he asked, looking at the jungle of vines and flowers.

 

She wrinkled her nose.  "With Shion's nasty old bones?  Let's not."  She slid her hand around his arm and tugged.  "Let's go see Shusuran and Enju!"

 

The idea made him queasy.  Seeing the dead body of the woman he'd once been seemed too concrete, too real.  It was hard enough going through life knowing he'd been a woman before, feeling her emotions.  If he saw her now, he was afraid he'd never shake off her influence.

 

"Come on," she urged.  "The capsule room should be right down this hallway.  We can check out everyone else, too!"

 

Partly because he couldn't say no to Sakura and partly because his heart skipped a beat at the thought of seeing Gyokuran's handsome face again, he allowed himself to be led down the dim hall.

 

The first thing he noticed was Jinpachi.  He sat on the edge of a capsule, staring down at the face of the preserved body inside.  A twinge of jealously bit at Issei's stomach as he realized that his friend must be with Mokuren.

 

He hadn't noticed he'd been staring until the girl at his side jostled him gently.  "I think I'm going to leave you two alone," Sakura whispered suddenly, grasping his hand and squeezing it.  Issei was perplexed, but couldn't say a word before she spun about and disappeared down the hallway.

 

Jinpachi looked up, a peculiar expression on his face.  "Issei," he said quietly, touching the glass window of his chosen capsule.  "I never realized--"  He stood up and stared at Issei, something new in his eyes.  Something painful.

 

Issei's breath caught in his throat.  In the pale light and deep shadow of the vast room, Jinpachi's features seemed different; his hair shone a brighter shade of gold and he looked just like Enju's lover.  Beautiful.  He swallowed.  "Gyo--Gyokuran?"

 

"I never remembered, but now, seeing her--" Jinpachi murmured cryptically.  "He--I cared for her so much."

 

Issei took a few careful steps toward his friend, trying to rationally to think of this boy as Ogura Jinpachi and not Gyokuran.  He swallowed hard.  "Cared for whom?" he asked cautiously.

 

Jinpachi looked down, gazing once more into the capsule beside him.  "Enju," he whispered, barely audible.  "Because of my obsession with Mokuren, I forgot that I also loved Enju."

 

Issei felt as though his stomach had leaped into his heart, as though he'd been punched too hard in the gut and left dizzy and mixed up inside.  He'd anticipated the breathless catch in his throat, the pounding of his blood through his body, but all he could think of was that it was too late.  With the constant flow of memories that this place offered, it was easy to remember the despair of Enju's last days, the belief that Gyokuran had only used her.  He turned away from his friend, clenching his eyes closed.  "Why tell me this now, Gyokuran?  What good will it do?"

 

His friend didn't answer. 

 

Jinpachi's silence made him angry.  "Can't you see that it's too late now?" he whirled around to face the boy he loved, falling back a few steps as he realized that Jinpachi had moved closer.  "Enju's dead," he said in a broken voice.  Issei's heart was pounding painfully.  He didn't understand why this was happening.  He wasn't a sounding board for Gyokuran's guilt.

 

"I know."  Jinpachi's voice was barely a whisper.  "I just thought you should know, I never meant--I never wanted to hurt you."  Reaching out with a shaking hand, Jinpachi grasped Issei's arm and yanked him against him, enfolding him in a hug.

 

His nearness bombarded Issei's senses.  He could feel his friend's warmth in the cold room, smell the masculine scent of his skin, his hair.  Issei was painfully aware of the lean hardness of Jinpachi's chest.  He was frozen, unable to move, all the while remembering vividly Gyokuran's ardent lovemaking.  Enju's love was building inside of him, warm and dazzling, confusing Issei even more.  Was Jinpachi the same as Gyokuran?  Was Issei the same as Enju?

 

"You're my best friend, Issei, but I never understood about--about Enju."  His voice was gruff near Issei's ear.  "I understand everything now . . . about what you said, about . . . what you did."  Issei flushed with the reminder of his impetuous kiss.  "Until we got here, I didn't completely realize that we are the same people."

 

The same.  Something in Issei's mind protested.  This place was tricky; its memories were confusing.  He wasn't Enju; Jinpachi wasn't Gyokuran.  And Sakura wasn't Shusuran.  "We're not," he said quietly, putting his hands on Jinpachi's shoulders to hold him away.  "I can't be Enju.  I'm not."  He remembered middle school, his brotherly camaraderie with Jinpachi before the romantic feelings interfered.  "She died."

 

Jinpachi dropped his arms, stepping back.  His eyes flickered confusion, then guarded sadness.  "Gyokuran too," he acknowledged softly.  "But it's not that simple, is it?"  He smiled weakly.  "How do we know which bits are us and which are them?"

 

For a long time neither spoke.  Ignoring the longing in his best friend's eyes, Issei was trying to fit the parts of him that were still Enju into neat little sections of himself, to tuck her away so she couldn't interfere again.  Each time he tried, new pieces of Enju emerged--delicate, feminine pieces.  Issei didn't want them, didn't want the surges of female longing to cloud his thinking. 

 

But it was useless.  He looked at Jinpachi, trying to see the boy he'd known for so long instead of the man he'd longed to know.  "Maybe I'm not Enju," he said cautiously, coming to a compromise, "but in some ways, I think she's part of me.  Still," he continued softly, " I can't let her control me."

 

Jinpachi wouldn't look up from the floor, clearly wrestling with his own memories.  Issei instantly wondered if he'd done the right thing, if he would regret not accepting what his friend finally seemed to offer.

 

"So it's time to move on."  Jinpachi's voice was distant.  Issei followed his friend's gaze to the cracked glass over Mokuren's face.  "Gyokuran died with regrets.  I don't want to do that again."

 

An image of Sakura flickered through Issei's mind.  "Me neither," he agreed.  He reached out to grasp Jinpachi's hand, relieved when his friend squeezed back.  "No regrets this time."

 

*****

 

It was probably the hum of the fans that woke him.  Or the greenish, fluorescent glow of lights, bright behind his eyes.  Mikuro sat up slowly, shaking his head as he lifted it from Haru's mattress.  He hadn't meant to sleep.  Resituating himself in the bedside chair, he glanced around the suddenly bright room.  Clearly the kid had managed to get the base up and running again.

 

"I'm awake, I'm awake!"  Ayame's groggy protest dragged Mikuro's attention to the cot she'd set up in the corner.  So she hadn't left.  Satisfaction tugged his mouth into a smile.  He found himself liking the young doctor.  Even though she’d just met him, she seemed to actually care whether or not Haru ever woke up.

 

She sat up, running a hand through her short hair.  "You're still up?" she asked, shaking her head.  She grinned.  "That's dedication!  I thought for sure that you'd've been out by now."

 

"I was."  Mikuro tried to rub out the tightness in his neck.  "I think the power coming back on woke me."  He looked down at his friend, lifelessly still and pale on the bed.  Reaching out with his mind, Mikuro tried to collect some of Haru's thoughts.  Nothing.  "Is he still okay?" he asked worriedly.

 

She checked a couple monitors before nodding.  "He's probably happily dreaming of his girlfriends back home."  She grinned.  "With a face like that, I'm sure there are plenty of them wondering where he went."  Moving the temporary generator away, she began to switch over the tubes and wires, hooking Haru up to the base's more reliable power system.

 

Mikuro watched her idly, thinking about his friend.  Haru had never struck him as the type to be popular with girls, but there was no reason why he wouldn't be.  He had the right stuff--that quiet, almost brooding attitude combined with his face and eyes and hair.  It'd be a killer combination in anyone else.  But not Haruhiko.  He felt a surge of protectiveness for his young friend.  Haru lacked the confidence for popularity.  Girls had a way of sensing that sort of thing right away.

 

"No matter how long and hard you stare at him, he's not going to wake up."  Ayame's voice was soft from across the room.  "You haven't left his side for more than five minutes since you got here," she reminded him.  "I'm sure he's grateful, but you need to get some rest yourself."

 

"I'm okay."  Mikuro didn't want to leave.  He couldn't shake the feeling that if he left the room, something terrible would happen to Haru.

 

She walked over to stand between him and the bed.  "Go," she ordered.  "I'm not going to leave him alone.  Get out of here."

 

Somewhere between her stern voice and gentle smile, Mikuro believed her.  He stood, shooing the tiny woman away so he could talk to his friend.

 

"Haru," he whispered, leaning close enough to feel the boy's warmth.  "I'll be back, Haru."  He smoothed his wild black hair from his face, memorizing the smoothness of Haruhiko's skin beneath his fingers.  His friend didn't move, didn't even flicker his eyelids to show he understood.  Mikuro's chest ached and he didn't want to go.  "Stay strong, okay?"

 

At first he thought he’d gotten back in touch with Haruhiko as a favor to Tamura, but somewhere along the way that motive had gotten lost.  Since that night in Haru’s room, his thoughts never strayed far from the younger boy.  He wasn’t completely sure what had happened, or what it might mean in the long run, but he knew enough to understand what kept him by the boy’s bedside.  It made his head hurt.

 

He slipped into the tiny chamber that had been designated as his room, not bothering to touch the panel that activated the lights.  He was there to sleep, after all.  He flopped onto the narrow bed, closing his eyes briefly in the darkness.  This was insane.  He didn't understand why they were there at all, but now they had no choice but to stay.  Haru almost died--he still could.  Was it worth it, to save the lives of Ayame and the others?

 

No.  Not if Haru died.

 

A tiny spark pulled his attention outward, to the wall beside the sliding door.  Another spark, small and blue, flickered there.  Live electricity?  Mikuro stood, taking a step through the darkness to the climate control panel.  It was gone, torn away to expose live wires and sparking metal. 

 

He squinted, opening the door for extra light.  Not torn--cut.  The slices were clean, made recently with a sharp tool.  Deliberate.

 

He backed away from the wall, his heart suddenly racing.  What if he'd tried to turn on the lights?  He didn't know how much power coursed through those wires, but he guessed it'd be enough to hurt.  Maybe enough to kill.

 

*****

 

Alice was singing.  Rin lay back with his eyes closed, happy he hadn't already made his presence known to her.  She didn't sing much at home--she was shy about her voice, he guessed.  She shouldn't be.  She was incredible.

 

He had slipped into the garden room about twenty minutes before, just after he finished organizing the computers.  Shion had really messed with things; Rin was grateful that he somehow still remembered the twisted logic behind it all.  After hours of working, he'd wanted to see Alice.  He'd known just where to go.

 

The garden was even more overgrown than it had been before.  Shion had set up the computers for steady watering, and the daily sunlight streaming through the UV coated windows had made the room a jungle.  Vines had covered everything, clinging to the ceiling and walls and flowering in brilliant sunbursts.  In the nine years since he'd last been there the plants had taken over--breaking from their pots and rooting themselves in the cracked tile floor.

 

Alice had been working silently with the plants and he hadn't wanted to disturb her.  Once her songs began, he was glad he hadn't.  He peeked at her from his hiding place among the tall flowering grasses.  She seemed to glow--even her black hair was bright with warm radiance.  She'd always been happy there, surrounded by plants and near the huge glass walls that let her view the earth.  She was carefully re-potting a scarlet blossom, singing without reserve or shyness.   

 

"You're terribly cheerful, considering that you stand within yards of your lover's remains."  The dark voice made Rin start.  Hinagiku. 

 

Alice jumped, almost dropping the potted flower she held.  "How--how did you know that--?"

 

"That you and Shion were lovers?"  The tall man laughed, sliding the door closed behind him as he walked closer to her.  "I read your journals.  It seems you kept detailed records of everything in your previous life."

 

Rin didn't like Hinagiku's mocking tone, or the way he looked at Alice.  He crouched behind the tall plants, debating whether to speak up or to stay hidden.  It was probably wise not to let the man know he was there, but Rin's longing to protect Alice kept him ready to spring.

 

"I was surprised at your behavior, Mokuren," Hinagiku continued, saying her name as though it were an insult.  "I didn't think you had it in you."

 

Alice was clearly flustered, staring at the man wordlessly.

 

"How did it feel, Kichess, in that moment when you threw away everything so you could indulge in a night of carnal pleasure?  How did it feel when you realized that nothing had changed, that you still had your powers?  Were you relieved?  Disappointed?"  He stepped close to her, reaching out grasp a strand of her hair between his finger and thumb.  "How did you feel--Mokuren?"

 

Alice yanked away, turning her back on the Sarches.  She traced her fingers along the edges of her flower's petals, closing her eyes against Hinagiku's continuing interrogation.

 

"Was it worth it?" he asked in a hiss, leaning close behind her  "Was the gratification of your lusts adequate cause for turning your back on the goddess?  Did you find something as holy as Sarjalim when you spread your--"

 

"No!"  She covered her ears, letting the flower slip from her hands to crash in an explosion of ceramic against the floor.  "Stop it!" she cried, shaking her head frantically.  "I'm not her anymore!  I'm not Mokuren!  I don't remember how she felt; I don't want to!"  She lifted her head slightly, focusing her eyes on a point on the far wall.  "My name is Sakaguchi Alice.  Please," even from a distance, Rin could see that her cheeks were damp and flushed, "I don't remember."

 

Rin felt sick.  He remembered.  He remembered Mokuren that first time, how she'd changed her mind and begged to leave.  He remembered the tears he'd ignored.  She'd fallen in love with him anyway, even claimed that she'd always loved him.  Shion believed it because he hadn't wanted the guilt of the truth.

 

Hinagiku laughed.  "It's good that your memory is faulty.  For the well-being of your friends, you'd better hope it stays that way."  He took a few steps toward Alice, pausing only when he was close enough to breathe her air.  Twisting his hand in her hair and pulling until she tilted her head back to look at him, he grinned.  "Stay out of my way, Mokuren," he warned in a low, cracking voice.  "I don't want to have to prove that I can kill every last one of you."  After yanking on the hair twisted around his fist, the tall man let go.

 

Alice fell to her knees, sobbing as Hinagiku spun on his heel and left the room.  Rin half-ran and half-crawled through the thick grasses and tangled vines, sliding to the floor next to her and catching his arms around her shoulders.  He held on to her, whispering soothing words and absorbing the sobs that shook her whole body. 

 

He swallowed hard, resting his cheek on her shiny hair.  For the first time since they'd contacted Nadeshiko, Rin was scared.