Dreamer Awakened

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

            So much had happened, but so little had changed.  Momiji sighed, her breath forming a cloud that quickly dissipated and looked up from the stone cold lunch balanced on her lap to glance around at the empty park.  Susano-oh Memorial Park was normally a favorite spot for the residents of Tokyo, but considering it was mid-winter and freezing, it was no wonder that it was virtually deserted. 

Except for her, of course, she thought, making a face and kicking herself mentally for acting on the momentary impulse that had led her here.  She had tried to reason her way out of coming as she rode the elevator down to the lobby of the lab and crossed to the entrance, but her heart had overruled every single argument.  So here she was, bundled up in her wool coat, her nose red with cold and her toes almost completely numb, just so she could be here one last time, the place where she had spent many afternoons with Kusanagi.

            Kusanagi. 

Overwhelming sadness filled her just thinking about him and she felt her eyes begin to burn knowing that there would be no more afternoons here or anywhere else with him.  All because of the agonizing decision she had made a little over a month ago, a decision that she had not wanted to make, but one that, she reminded herself fiercely, was necessary. 

            “Momiji!” a bright voice echoed across the plaza and Momiji looked up to see one of Miss Matsudaira’s interns, and one of her very best friends, Midori Fujisawa hurrying across the cobblestones waving at her.

Momiji pasted a smile onto her face, waved back and packed her uneaten lunch away.

“Miss Matsudaira said that you might be here,” Midori bubbled as she came to a restless stop in front of Momiji, too cold to stand still, “though I thought she was joking at first – I mean it is the middle of January, and I thought who would be nutty enough to eat lunch out here! -  Then I realized, this is Momiji we’re talking about!“  She thunked herself in the head and made to sit down, so Momiji slid over to make room for her on the park bench. Midori threw her a wide grin and joked, “A classic Momiji move.  For whatever reason, it’s only natural for you to want to come here and become a solid block of ice.”

“It’s become a burning desire of mine to be encased in ice - a silent memorial to unkissed virgins everywhere,” Momiji replied with amusement, “TAKE HEED OR THIS WILL HAPPEN TO YOU!” she boomed in ominous accents over Midori’s giggles.  “I can see it now,” she continued in mock tragedy, “young girls would flock to this bench and leave flowers and charms,  praying for the gods to intervene, not wishing the same fate to befall them!”

“But what about the spring thaw?” Midori pointed out logically.  “I don’t think your memorial would survive beyond that.”

Momiji’s chestnut eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise.  “I hadn’t thought that far.” Her face fell and she concluded sadly, “I guess that means I should probably give up now, huh?”

“I think it’s for the best.”  Midori’s face was solemn as she patted Momiji’s shoulder consolingly, but her brown eyes were full of laughter.

“You’re probably right.”

Momiji broke into a smile and Midori smiled back and they sat in silence for a moment before Midori’s expression became more serious.

“You’re really going, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.

Momiji didn’t say anything for a moment, Midori’s sadness a reflection of her own. “Yes.”

Midori sighed heavily and looked at Momiji’s strained profile, knowing how hard this was for her and admiring her strength to break away.

“Have you -” Midori hesitated slightly before continuing, “have you told, Kusanagi?”

Momiji shook her head and looked out over the plaza not wishing to see the pity in Midori’s eyes.

 “I – I haven’t been able to get in touch with him,” she stammered.

Midori didn’t say anything to that, reaching, instead for Momiji’s hand and pulling her to her feet.

“Come on,” she said with a tug, “I’ll walk you back to the lab.”

Momiji nodded numbly and fell into step beside Midori.

How long had it been now?  But Momiji knew without having to stop and think.  Three months, ten days, six hours, and fourty-five minutes – that’s how long it had been since she had been with Kusanagi.  He had arrived at the lab and offered to take her home on his motorcycle.  He had been silent on the short journey to Mr. Kunikida’s house, where Momiji was still living, and once she had clambered off the back of the bike, Kusanagi had wished her an abrupt goodbye and had sped away.

That was the last time they had physically been together, but it had been much longer than that since Momiji had actually felt that they were together.  Kusanagi had been distancing himself from her emotionally for some time, and she didn’t understand why. 

Not that he had ever been that demonstrative with his affections, she reminded herself, which had been a major stumbling block for her.  In all the time they had been together, she had been frustrated in her attempts to get physically closer to him, because Kusanagi wouldn’t even kiss her, brushing her away with the excuse that she was still a child.  So she had had to satisfy herself with holding his hand and giving him a spontaneous hug every now and then. 

That was as close as he would allow her to get, but slowly, over the past year, those small signs of affection had stopped too.  Whenever she had tried to take his hand, he would tolerate it only for a few short minutes before he would find some excuse to pull away, and he had put an end to the hugs as well.  It was like he had a Momiji alarm set in his brain and would manage to turn away whenever he sensed her closing in, effectively blocking any embrace she might have to offer. 

His rejection hurt and bewildered her at the same time.  She didn’t understand why he still came to see her considering all the barriers he had erected.  But because of his continued presence she had refused to give up.

She had held out hope until the very day he had disappeared that she might be able to draw him back to her. First she had tried letting her hair grow back to waist length hoping he would notice, (since he hadn’t when she had decided to cut it all off) but he’d never said anything about it and it made her want to yank his out strand by strand. 

Then, thinking perhaps that was too gradual a change, she decided to try something a bit more drastic.  So she had tried changing her wardrobe: shorter skirts, tighter shirts; showing more of her figure than she was really comfortable with – anything to catch his eye.  What a disaster that had been! 

Everyone else had noticed: raised eyebrows from Ryoko, a small sigh and a shake of the head from Ms. Matsudaira, approvoal from Sakura (of course), Mr. Sugishita speaking directly to her breasts whenever he stopped by the lab, and embarrassed, silent disapproval from Mr. Kunikida whose daughter she had become.  But as for Kusanagi, not so much as a flicker of response.  She could have been wearing a barrel and a paper sack on her head for all the difference it had made.

When that didn’t work, she had tried taking an active interest in his photography, the one thing that he had a passion for.  Her face burned in misery as she remembered the outcome of that fiasco. 

They had been down near the bay and she had been asking one question after another which he had answered patiently if in an absent-minded way.  That part had been okay.  She’d actually felt that she was making progress, smiling optimistically as he had turned away to get a new roll of film.  Feeling more cheerful than she had for ages, she had sidled closer to the tripod to take a look through the lens while he rummaged around for the new roll, and that was when disaster had struck.  Tripping over her own two feet, she had gone crashing into the tripod, and had watched, cringing in horror as Kusanagi’s camera – his very expensive camera - landed with a crunch against the hard pavement.

Kusanagi hadn’t yelled at her, but she’d wished he had.  Instead, he had silently packed up all of his things, his mouth set in a thin line, and had taken her home without uttering one single word. 

He hadn’t let her near his camera after that, and although she couldn’t really blame him for that one, the outcome was still the same.  The one real opportunity she’d had for getting closer to him was gone for good. Crushed.  Just like his poor camera, she thought painfully.

“Well,” Midori said in resignation bringing Momiji’s thoughts back to the present as they slowed to a stop in front of the TAC Research Facility.

“I’m sorry,” Momiji apologized contritely, realizing that she had spent their entire walk in silence.

Midori shook her head.  “It’s okay, Momiji,” she looked down at her hands, “I understand.  I just wish –“ but whatever it was she wished for remained left unsaid. 

Momiji had been the first real friend Midori had made when she had started her internship at the lab.  Always awkward and shy, Momiji had taken Midori under her wing and shown her around, shouldering the blame for some of Midori’s mistakes until Midori had a better grasp for how things worked. No one ever questioned how the mistakes could be Momiji’s since they weren’t even in her area of data research.  Instead they usually mumbled something like, ‘same old Momiji’ and with a tolerant look, would hand the papers over to be redone.  Midori always felt a little guilty about letting Momiji take the blame, but Momiji would just smile away Midori’s objections and take Midori back to her work-station where she would help her correct the errors.

Momiji was thoughtful and kind, and Midori was going to miss her terribly.  She would always be Midori’s hero.

“This is where we say goodbye I guess,” Midori said instead, looking back up at Momiji, her lip trembling a bit, “I have to deliver some papers to the TAC Administrative Office for Ms. Matsudaira.”

Momiji’s eyes flitted to the leather briefcase hanging by a strap from Midori’s shoulder, and then returned to Midori’s face. Momiji hated this.  She hated seeing the pain and sadness of her friend.  She hated having to say goodbye.

She reached out and pulled Midori into a tight hug.  “I won’t say goodbye,” she told her.  “I’ll be back to see you, I promise,” Momiji let her go and stepped back, pinning a bright smile on her face, “and when I get settled into my new place, I want you to come and see me, okay?”

Midori nodded, gave her a watery smile and then walked away.  Momiji stayed where she was, a smile still pinned on her face until Midori reached the corner, turned around and waved again.  When she was gone, the smile faded and Momiji turned and entered the lab.

She had just gotten back to her desk and taken her coat off when Ms. Matsudaira appeared by her side, some papers in her hand.  She motioned for Momiji to sit down, dragging a chair over next to hers.

“I brought you some paperwork,” Ms. Matsudaira said, placing the pages on the desk in front of Momiji, “this should help you to get started on your research once you get to Izumo.”

Momiji thanked her and picked up the papers, thumbing through them, but not really seeing them.  There would be plenty of time for her to look them over once she got to Izumo.

“Would you tell me one more time just what made you decide to return to Izumo, Momiji?”  Ms. Matsudaira asked, looking with concern at Momiji’s guarded profile.

Momiji’s green eyes left the papers with reluctance, not really wanting to meet Matsu’s sharp eyes.  “Well, I thought that I could do a study comparing Grandma, Mother and myself, since we are all technically Kushinadas –“

“Yes, yes, I know that’s what you keep saying,” Matsu waved her explanation away with an impatient hand, her brown eyes focused intently on Momiji’s face, “but that’s not the real reason, is it, Momiji?”

Momij stared mutely at Ms. Matsudaira.

“Do you really think that I am going to believe that this has nothing whatsoever to do with Kusanagi?” she asked knowingly.

As soon as Matsu uttered Kusiagi’s name, Momiji averted her gaze back to the papers in her hand and began to fidget uncomfortably, rumpling the sheets beneath her fingers.

“Well,” she began, as she shifted the papers, trying desperately to think of something to say that wouldn’t be a lie.

Matsu watched Momiji’s agitated movements for a few more seconds, then removed the papers from Momiji’s hands before she destroyed them completely.  Now with nothing else to look at, Momiji was forced to face Matsu again.

“I want the truth Momiji,” Matsu ordered.

“I just thought it would be best if I left Tokyo, that’s all, ”  she told the top button on Matsu’s coat.

“Why would you think that, Momiji?  Your home is here!  Kusanagi is here as well –“

“But he’s not!” Momiji burst out miserably, “he’s not here! He left without a word to anyone and hasn’t been here in over three months!”

Momiji stopped speaking, trying to get her emotions back under control. 

“He’ll be back, Momiji,” Matsu assured her gently.

Momiji shook her head.  “I don’t think he will, Ms. Matsudaira.”

“Why would you think that?  Did he say that he didn’t want to be with you anymore?”

Momiji stayed silent for a moment, her voice sounding hollow when she finally did speak.  “When I first met Kusanagi, he wanted nothing more than to be free – free from the Arigami, free from the Kushinada, to do – whatever he wanted -  And then things started happening and he was forced to protect me. 

“But now that it’s – quiet, I think he just wants to be free again.  I think that’s why he left,” Momiji finished, not adding that she thought that this was also the reason why he had never let her get close to him.  “I never wanted to be an obligation, Ms. Matsudaira,” she continued earnestly, “and if that is all that I am – all that I have become to him, then it’s best that I leave.”

Matsu stared at the misery in Momiji’s face, feeling for her and sighed.

“I think you’re wrong, Momiji,” she disputed, her voice quiet but firm  “I can understand why you feel that way, but I have seen the way Kusanagi sometimes looks at you, and – well, I just think you’re wrong.” 

Matsu continued speaking but Momiji wasn’t really listening.  Instead she gave Matsu a puzzled look.  The way that Kusanagi sometimes looked at her?  What did that mean?  And when did Kusanagi ever look at her for more that two seconds?  Never! Considering all the time and effort she had put into that issue, she thought she should know.  But still, she thought uncertainly, what was it that Matsu saw that she didn’t?  She would ask Matsu about it, she decided, as she once again picked up on the conversation, waiting for the right moment to present itself.

“…my husband looked at me that way.  But it isn’t important what I think, is it?” Matsu was saying, “I’m not the one in the relationship, you are, so how you feel is most important isn’t it?” She paused long enough for Momiji to nod uncertainly before abruptly changing the subject, never allowing Momiji the chance to ask her question.

“As you know the TAC is having a small facility set up for me in Izumo, so I will be coming twice a month for two days at a time to run some tests and help you analyze your data.”  She pulled out another sheet of paper and handed it to Momiji.  “This is my schedule for this month and the coming month.  If you notice anything odd or are having problems between visits, contact me and I will come immediately,” and then she added as she stood up and moved the chair back to its place, “I’m going to miss you Momiji.”

Momiji nodded.  “But at least you’ll be seeing me in Izumo.”

Matsu simply said, “It’s not the same.”  She offered Momiji a smile and wished her a safe trip before turning to go.

“Tell Jun I said hello,” Momiji called after her and then swiveled her chair around to look at the schedule Matsu had set.

The rest of the workday flew, several of Momiji’s coworkers stopping by to wish her good luck.  The time had gone so quickly that with a jolt she realized she had less than an hour to pack up all the things she would be taking with her and still make her train.  She bounded to her feet, her chair sharply thrust backwards as she bent to look under her desk for the box she had remembered to put there earlier in the week.  She had barely put her head under the desk when the metal casters of the chair collided with someone’s toes.

“Ouch!”

Startled by the exclamation, Momiji straightened up to look around and forgot that her head was partially under her desk.  BANG!

“Ouch!” she cried rubbing the crown of her head and she turned around to see Mr. Sugishita grinning at her.

“I thought that was my line,” he remarked.

Her head still smarting, she gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry about that,” she said, looking at his toes before turning to pull out the box and put it on top of her desk.  “I was just getting ready to pack up my thing.”   She pointed to the box.

Mr. Sugishita nodded.  “That’s why I dropped by.  Just wanted to say goodbye and see if you needed any help with the move.”

“That was awfully nice of you,” Momiji replied, “but Mr. Kunikida and Ryoko are helping me.”

“Oh, that’s good,” he replied, then spent a few minutes chatting before casually inquiring, “how’s Ryoko doing by the way?”

Momiji hid her smile.  Mr. Sugishita had always had a thing for Ryoko Takeuchi, now Ryoko Kunikida, and although she knew he had moved on, he always managed to ask about her whenever he saw Momiji.

“She’s doing good.  She and Mr. Kunikida are celebrating their third wedding anniversary next week – “

“Oh really? That’s great!” he replied heartily before looking at his watch and exclaiming, “will you look at that!  I’m going to be late! “ He backed up toward the hall.   “Got a hot date!” he whispered and gave her a devilish grin before waving and turning to stroll jauntily down the hall.

Momiji watched him with amusement until he was gone, then glanced absent-mindedly at the clock after he left.

“Oh, crap!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in consternation.  She now had less than forty-five minutes to catch her train. 

Momiji started throwing things one after the other into the box as fast as she could, knowing that she was probably going to forget something important.  She would worry about it later, she told herself.

With literally just seconds to spare, Momiji lumbered breathlessly onto the train before the doors closed.  It was crowded, as usual and she had left the lab too late to be able to get a seat, so she stood, box in hand, sandwiched between a businessman who smelled like a stale cigar and a woman holding a toddler with a sticky looking face and even stickier looking fingers.

Momiji shifted her weight onto one foot to maintain her balance as the train jolted into motion and tried to adjust the heavy box in her arms so that it wouldn’t dig into her arms so badly.  No good, she thought grimacing, the box was just too heavy.  Perhaps if the train hadn’t been so crowded, she could have set it on the floor, but there wasn’t even any room to do that, so she was stuck until she arrived at the station.  Momiji frowned heavily at that, but immediately changed it to a smile when she noticed the toddler, a little girl, was looking at her over her mother’s shoulder, staring with fixed interest at Momijis long hair.   Momiji was about to say hello when she heard her cell phone ring and she groaned aloud instead.

The phone was in her purse, which was slung over her shoulder; almost impossible to get at while she had the box in her arms.  Maybe, she mused, if she turned sideways and shifted the box to one hip, she might be able to dig in her purse with her free hand.  It worked, but now the corner of the box was digging into her stomach, so it was with a strained ‘hello’ that she greeted the caller on the other end.

“Momiji, is that you?”

“Kome?” Momiji responded, squeezing the phone between her head and shoulder so that she could grasp the box with both hands before she dropped it.

“Hey, kiddo!  For a minute there, it didn’t sound like you.”

“Well, I’m on the train on my way h- Ouch!” she cried sharply as she felt a cruel tug on the back of her head, “home,” she managed to say, wincing as she felt another strong pull that made tears stand out in her eyes.

When she had turned sideways, she must have put her hair within grabbing vicinity of the little girl, Momiji realized, drawing in a sharp breath as another heavy tug yanked her head backwards.

 “What was that?” Kome inquired.

“N-nothing,” Momiji said, trying to sidle sideways and get her head out of harm’s way, but to no avail.  The toddler had a fistful of hair and wasn’t letting go.

“I wanted to be able to see you before you left, Momiji, but they have me out on assignment right now.”  Momiji could hear the regret in Kome’s voice.  “I haven’t even been able to get home to see Yoshiki.”

“Y-yes, he came by yesterday to say goodbye and mentioned that you and he had planned on coming together, but there was something big that you were working on.”

“Yeah,” Kome said, her voice sounded a little odd, “I wish I could tell you, but – it’s pretty weird, Momiji.  You be careful when you get to Izumo, kiddo, you hear me?” she demanded, “there’s been –“

Kome hesitated, and Momiji listened intently, sensing that Kome was troubled about something.  But either Momiji was wrong or Kome changed what she was going to say, because her next words caught Momiji completely off guard.

“Have you heard from Plant Boy?”

“Wha?  No. Nothing”

“I really wish he would come back,” Kome mumbled mostly to herself and then louder, “look, Momiji, if you see him before you leave, why don’t you ask him to go with you?”

Momiji’s mouth fell open in shock.  What on earth had gotten into Kome?  Kome was well aware of the strife between Momiji and Kusanagi.  She had even threatened bodily harm to Kusanagi on Momiji’s behalf.  So why was she acting so odd?

“Kome, have you forgotten that I’m leaving tomorrow?  Kusanagi’s been gone for over three months now, so do you really think that he would suddenly show up now?  And even if he did, I couldn’t ask him to come with me when all he’s been trying to do is get away from me!”

After a moment of stilted silence, Kome replied diffidently, unwilling to let it drop, “I know all that, but Momiji, I wouldn’t suggest it unless… there was a good reason.”

Momiji stared at the train door, not really seeing it, completely mystified by her friend’s behavior.

“I – can’t, Kome,” Momiji finally said.  “Even if he came back, I couldn’t ask him.  I will not be an obligation to him anymore,” she vowed empatically, echoing the words she had spoken earlier to Ms. Matsudaira.

Kome sighed.  “Okay, kiddo.  Maybe I’ll ask him myself –“

“YOU WILL NOT!” Momiji yelled into the phone.

“Okay, okay!  I was just kidding!  Of course I wouldn’t ask him.  What?  Do you think I’m that crazy?” Kome paused and Momiji could hear someone talking to her.  It was a man’s voice, but Momiji couldn’t hear what was being said.  “Look, Momiji, I gotta go.  You just promise to be careful, okay?”

“You know I will,” Momiji assured her and wished her friend goodbye, stuffing the phone into her coat pocket. 

The little girl tugged hard on Momiji’s hair one more time, but Momiji barely noticed it, too caught up in her thoughts about Kome’s bizarre request.

By the time Momiji got home, she had a raging headache and bruises on her arms from squeezing the box so hard.  Ryoko and Mr. Kunikida still weren’t home, but there was a message on the answering machine from Mr. Kunikida.  They had been called away to Hokkaido and wouldn’t be back until some time tomorrow. 

“I’m sorry, Momiji.  Ryoko and I were planning on taking you out to dinner,”  Mr. Kunikida’s gruff voice told her as she finished listening to the message, “But I promise we’ll be home tomorrow in plenty of time to help you finish your move…”

“Looks like I’m on my own,” Momiji sighed as she shrugged out of her coat and shoes and padded to the kitchen. 

She turned on the lights as she went trying to drive out the darkness that only served to remind her of her solitude.  It was dinner time, but she wasn’t really hungry, so she just put some water on to boil, planning to make a cup of tea instead.  She stared at the kettle, her mind full of the move, and Kusanagi. Even though she had been without him already, the ache she was feeling inside was just as fresh as it had been the first day she had realized he was gone.

Momiji turned away from the stove and tried to push her thoughts aside.  She went upstairs to the bathroom to take some aspirin for her head, and then to her room to change her clothes.  She put on her favorite pair of jeans but left her sweater on, since it kept her warm.  After a couple of steps towards her bedroom door, she turned back to her closet to get a belt.  Her jeans were too loose and she was in serious danger of stepping on them and tripping if she didn’t use a belt to hold them up.  She had lost a lot of weight over the past three months, she observed as she tightened her belt one notch tighter since the last time she had worn these jeans, which had only been a couple of weeks ago.

Momiji went back to the kitchen and finished making her tea.  She carried her mug to the table and sat down.  She stared out the window and sipped her tea, her oppressive thoughts her only company.  She sat there for a few minutes more and then pushed away from the table returning to the living room to get her shoes and coat.  Perhaps she could clear her head if she got some fresh air, she though as she buttoned up her coat.

Momiji stepped out onto the back deck and paused as the cold air rushed against her face.  It had gotten a lot colder since the sun had gone down, but she didn’t care.  She shoved her hands in her pockets, her fingers curling around the cell phone she had forgotten to return to her purse, and climbed down the stairs to walk in the yard.  The moon was full, and the light from the kitchen windows spilled across the lawn, driving back the darkness and providing just enough light to keep her from tripping and falling flat on her face because of the garden rake Mr. Kunikida had left lying in the yard.  She bent down, picked up the rake and leaned it against the deck before moving farther away from the house.

Momiji strolled slowly toward the trees where the shadows were deeper, her fingers tightening on the phone as a thought began forming in her brain.  She stopped and took the phone from her pocket as she reached the trees and dialed Kusanagi’s phone number.  She didn’t expect him to be there, and she had already left him several messages, but she had never left a message telling him goodbye. 

Just as she’d expected the answering machine picked up and while she waited for the beep, she struggled to think of the right words to say.

“K-kusanagi, it’s me,” she said breathlessly, “Momiji.  I –“ she stopped, the words stuck in her throat.  “I know that I’ve left you several messages already, b-but there’s something I haven’t… something I should…” she was making a muddle of it, she realized, listening to herself.  Momiji stared at the bark on the tree in front of her in consternation.  This was even harder than she thought it would be.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” she finally managed to say.

“What?”

Momiji stopped, her body stiffening in shock.  “What?” she ehoed, still staring at the tree.

“I said, what is it you need to tell me,” the voice replied, closer this time, right behind her.

Momiji turned slowly, her green eyes staring in astonishment into the cat-like eyes of Kusanagi.  She stood there gaping at him in disbelief, the phone still clutched to her ear.  She felt a bevy of emotions flood over her, each reflected in her face.

Kusanagi watched her in amusement as her expression went through rapid changes and wondered what emotion she would finally settle on.  He was surprised and somewhat taken aback to see that it was sadness.

“Kusanagi. You’re really here,” she said in a numb way.

Kusanagi reached out and took the phone still pressed to Momiji’s ear and turned it off before handing it back to her.  She took it from him and stared blindly at it .

“What was it that you wanted to tell me,” Kusanagi prompted her again and was surprised by the flash of irritation in Momiji’s eyes.

She turned away from him to face the trees again, fuming.  She couldn’t believe him!  He’d been gone for over three months and then he shows up out of the blue without so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘how’ve you been, Momiji?’  Instead he had the gall to stand there looking like a magazine ad for blue  jeans watching her flounder in confusion.  It wasn’t fair!

“Momiji, you’ve go –“ he began.

“I don’t believe you!” she said at the same time and then, “OWW!” It felt like he was ripping her hair out.  She rounded on him, glaring. “Mamoru Kusanagi!! What do you think you’re doing?!” she demanded.

Kusanagi took a step back and put his hands up defensively.  “I wasn’t doing anything.  You’ve got something stuck in your hair.  I was just trying to get it out.”

“Oh.” She felt stupid. 

Of course there was a reason he had pulled her hair.  Duuhhh!  She put her hand to the back of her head, running it down the length of her chestnut hair until her fingers snagged on a wad of hair wound around something sticky.  She tried pulling it free but it was stuck really good

Kusanagi watched her struggle silently for a few seconds and then stepped around her.  “Here,” he said, and she could hear his amusement, “let me help.”

So she stood still while he worked to free whatever it was that clung so tenaciously to her hair.

“There!” he said triumphantly after a few more tugs, “I finally got it!” and held it out for her to see.  “What I want to know is how you got a sucker stuck in your hair,” he chuckled as she took the sucker from him, and added with a grin “or better yet, how you could get a sucker stuck in your hair and not  know it!”  

He could see her face turning red even in the feeble moonlight, and his grin widened.

His amusement died though, when Momiji didn’t laugh.  She had a right to be angry with him, but he sensed something else. 

“What is it, that you wanted to tell me, Momiji?” he asked again, feeling instinctively that that was where the trouble was stemming from.

“I’m leaving, Kusanagi,” she told him without preamble.

“Leaving?”

“Yes.  I decided to go back to Izumo while you were gone.” She replied baldly.  She waited for him to say something and when he didn’t she continued, “I think I know why you went away, Kusanagi – and I don’t want you to feel obligated to me anymore.”

“Is that so?” he asked her quietly.

She nodded and tried to see his expression, but he was standing too far in the shadows for her to be able to see his face clearly.

“I wanted – want - you to feel… free,” she continued, feeling thoroughly miserable now, “so I thought – if I went back to Izumo that you wouldn’t have to go away…” her voice petered out as Kusanagi began to laugh.

It was a hard laugh, devoid of warmth, and it made Momiji cringe hearing it.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked, disturbed by his reaction.

He stopped abruptly and moved further into the shadows, his voice, when it came was just as hard and abrupt.  “No reason.  No reason at all.” He was silent for a moment and then asked, “when are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I see,” was all he said.

“Kusanagi-“ she began, taking a step towards him, but he cut her off by turning away.

He gave another short, humorless laugh.

“Well, I guess there’s nothing left to say, then,” he told her over his shoulder.  And when she didn’t reply, “Goodbye, Momiji.”

And then he was gone, leaving her staring after him, feeling more alone than ever.