> We live on a mountain
> Right at the top
> There's a beautiful view
> From the top of the mountain
Rather than being delicately plucked from my slumber by the tolling of my bedside clock this morning, I was jangled awake by the incessant, nasal ring of the telephone. How vulgar.
I answered it after three conscious rings. How many it pealed out before I broke through my haze, I'll never know. I said, "Hello," politely, but with a careful concentration of annoyance in my voice. After all, I can't afford to encourage this behavior.
All I get in return for my poised greeting is a series of slurred mumbles.
"What do you want? Speak up."
It sounds as though they're calling from underwater. Just muttering. Scowling, I hung up the phone, cutting the other party off. How dare they mock me! Don't they know who I am?! How tiring it is to work the night away down in the basement laboratory? I've nearly perfected these pheromone extracts, and the next step will be to adapt it into my roses.
My roses. Naught but the best; not a flaw, even deep inside the molecules of my jet-black beauties. Just like the contrary Mistress Mary, my pretty maids' genes have been lined up in a perfect row. It would not be fitting, after all, for a Kuno to be nick-named for anything less than perfect.
Powder has become such a bore. Besides that, if the wind switches, it can begin to blow into my face and not that of my beloved. I'll only be caught by that trick once. Watching him run away as I lay paralyzed... no, I've done with powders. I can put my extract into the oils of the rose, can tap it into the scent, can drip it through the thorns.... He will want me savagely, and forget all about those others, those dottering hags.
Ah, there's a good idea. Turn over, and cuddle my cheek into this downy goose-feather pillow. Back down, now, drop, subside back into sleep and dreams of Ranma-sama...
Only in my dreams do I dare call him anything but Ranma-sama. There, he is my lover, and I am his Black Rose. Such a rich tapestry secrets. I cannot wait to share it with him.
> Every morning I walk towards the edge
> And throw little things off
> Like car-parts, bottles and cutlery
> Or whatever I find lying around
> It's become a habit
> A way to start the day
Drat. I cannot sleep.
Oh, please.... Let me sleep....
No, it's too late. I am far too awake now. "Nameless fools hath murder'd sleep, and therefore ‘Kuno' shall sleep no more," as they say. I'll see you tonight, dream-Ranma.
What time is it? Only seven o'clock? What was that oaf thinking, awakening me at this hour? The sun is barely up! My... I haven't seen the sun at this time of day for quite a while, have I?
It might be a nice change.
Carrying my silver hairbrush, I unlatch the French doors, and they blow open in a gust of ivory sheer and glittering silver cords. The radiance of my balcony would make any master stonemason weep at his own infirmity. White, pristine marble, with a thick railing wrapped waist-high around the edge. The marble then streaks skyward, and at the pinnacle, arcs back down to land on the side opposing.
Leaning on the railing, I can see all the splendor of our estate. Directly below is a grove of fragrant trees. I have spent many nights here, eager nose sniffing in the scent of these trees, but not as many mornings. The smell is stronger at night; I can barely catch a whiff now, even though I bend over the railing and take in great, rushing lungfuls.
The arches and railing are all carved with winding vines, along with tiny kanji scattered here and there that speak to the glory of the Kuno family. Virtue. Life. Trust, there by that arch. Justice. Piety. And, over there by the door frame, my favorite, Wisdom. Using my own wisdom and the wisdom passed down by the dead in books and on old tablets, I will reshape physical things to my own devices. I can make it be, if I have the will inside me to carry it out. And I do.
> I go through all this
> Before you wake up
> So I can feel happier
> To be safe up here with you
Here, by my right arm, the kanji for Strength. Ranma is strong.... Isn't that what drew me to him in the first place?
*(what should La Steffie add here? Somethin' Kodachi likes about Ranma...)*
I have always been surrounded by inconstant men, dribbling through the little holes of life like they were sand. Father, with his strange afflictions, Brother Tacchi, with his weak, dull mind and proclivity towards pain and rejection.... In truth, those two fill the list of men I've known at all intimately. Attending a girls-only school leaves much to be desired.
Ranma, the boy thumbing his nose at conformity just by wearing a pigtail, is a mystery. If I close my eyes while I pull this brush through my sleep-tossed hair, it's very easy to imagine that the bristles are his fingers, exploring root to tip....
This is not my foot nudging and tugging the hem of my robe so that the garment comes falling off. His hands are there on my back and shoulders, loosening the tie and sliding it off for himself.
That is not the wind brushing against my cheek. It is his lips, tentative, but smooth and cool against my face. Darling Ranma-sama, numbing my skin and carrying the scent of my mimosa below....
> It's real early morning
> No-one is awake
> I'm back at my cliff
> Still throwing things off
> I listen to the sounds they make
> On their way down
Ranma-sama... you would be here if it weren't for those others....
Damn it all! I have, once again, ruined a perfectly good daydream by letting my mind stray.
I really must assert more control over that. Drop the robe; it's getting warm outside anyway. Ruefully, I think, ‘I could make this a reality if only they weren't around.'
Ukyo, Shampoo, Akane... dirty-faced kitchen wenches, all of them. Ranma, from the purity and charity of his own good soul, hasn't the heart to tell them of our love. So they still nose around where they do not belong, bringing him ugly gifts, making him unpalatable food, chattering away at him about Gods-know-what. My poor love, caught by these three.
Many months ago, I planned what I will do to them. Of course, when I say will, I mean would like to. I can poison, I can paralyze, but I have not yet been able to kill. It seems such an ugly, clumsy, unrefined act, no matter how I visualize it. And, visualize I have. Those are my most colorful dreams; they nearly outshine my dreams of Ranma-sama. On occasion, I go down to the kitchen and watch Sasuke cut the heads off of still-wriggling fish for our supper, just because the thoughts are splashing around so urgently in my mind. Chop, off goes the head. Gash, slice, out come the insides. Oh, how I would love to see those three fall to similar fates.
If you watch Ranma, as I have watched Ranma, it is so clear. The Amazon gives him food, but she feels nothing deeply for him, I am sure! Like common street trash, pushes her body in his face and takes every chance she can to use that to her advantage. How can she be so foolish? Advantage, feh. He does not love her, either, and I think he quails at the sight of her. It is always so amusing to see the look that crosses his face when her voice bubbles up, "Nihao! Nihao!," like nails on a chalkboard. *(add? Something about Shampoo's suckiness)*
Ukyo, with her soul in her eyes, also gives him food free of charge. In addition, she listens to his problems, forgives him for his mistakes, makes him laugh.... He enjoys her company, but he does not love her. Unlike certain other contenders for his affection, I can see and accept that. I admire his ability to have friends; I have none, and can therefore appreciate that gift all the more. *(add? I have no clue, but it seems incomplete.)*
And the Tendo girl.... She cooks putrid food, insults him, hits him, and has no physical attributes to attract him at all.... *(Look, I know there's other stuff wrong with Akane. Add?)*
So why is it that when she is otherwise occupied, my Ranma looks at her? Not just looks at her like she was a person, but like she was the mystery?
He doesn't love her.
He doesn't love her.
He doesn't.
... gods...
> I follow with my eyes 'til they crash
> Imagine what my body would sound like
> Slamming against those rocks
*(Add - talking about the kanji, relating Akane's geographical nearness to Ranma to his infatuation, then the kanji maybe... go all swirly? Help me out, people!)*
Does that even still say strength? It's so blurry... but I'm not crying. What's wrong?
The wind...
Ah, this wind is so achingly sweet. I cannot catch the scent! I want it again....
There... oh, just a wisp... my trees below...
Beautiful trees, with your arms outstretched for me. You, with your thick, sturdy limbs and petals as open and dewy as hungry lips, you will not let me down.
Away, dirty marble balcony; away, scruffy Nerima. I'll come to you, as you wish, beautiful ones! Catch this dark rose, for I am yours alone! *(add something?)*
> When it lands
> Will my eyes
> Be closed or open?
I stand tall on the thick marble railing, arms curved taut like an archer's bow above my lolling head. Stretching, trying to climb the sky with my feet rooted on the solid plane, spine arching like a willow with the buffeting wind ripping at its branches.
"I am your champion!" Tension races through my legs.
Bend at the knees, the perfect gymnast's forty-five degree angle.
Pause, spinning my ribbon in preparation for my exquisite flutter of grace and color.
Dimly, I hear some voice. "Kodachi, mumble-mumble-mumble," it says. That is not my name. I am the Black Rose, and soon I will be Sky, Air and then I will be Mother Earth, governing the growth of flowers. How can I understand people when I am so high above them?
I am coming, trees, ground, earth, silence....
Leap...
Nothing is solid now. The sky is lifting me from this hovel, out of this graceless...
Why am I flying backwards?
Earth? So soon? Where are my trees!? I can't breathe.
No!
How long were you spying on me, fiend? No nonono, let go of me! Why weren't you below me, where you belong?! Don't hurt me I can't breathe your arms are too tight! Pain in my shoulder, terrible... but that was before the floor and....
How did that happen?
Wait.
How?... Oh
I see what you've done.
Grabbed me by my ribbon, you wretch.
Why? You never cared before!
Don't go without me! Wait!! I can't see the sky anymore my tree my kanji they're MINE and you
NO, no, too rough! I'm not a cow or a horse you can't stuff those down my throat those fat, blue, waxy --
I remember when I was little and you'd trick me into taking them when I screamed out my rage. Well, no more. I'll not scream. I'm just going to struggle and fight and kick and claw and be QUIET QUIET like you never let it be with all your NOISY TALKING your PRATTLE and your ENDLESS ENDLESS STOR-
Nononono! Don't you dare squash my lips apart! I hate it when you pry my teeth open with your filthy fingers and I HATE it when they dissolve in my mouth and taste so dry and bitter like sopping tea leaves and you won't let me spit it out!
There, THERE, see! I did spit it out, I'm stronger than you! What are you going to do now?
GET THAT AWAY FROM ME! Out, pull it out, I DON'T WANT THAT EITHER! I hate you! This is all YOUR fault, YOU did this to me!
You did it!
YOU made him come here and YOU made him not love me and YOU made mama die and YOU made me the Black Rose with no friends and I hate... you
I hate you.
where'd you go?
even in this mist, i hate you.
my, but these drugs work fast....
> I go through all this
> Before you wake up
> So I can feel happier
> To be safe up here with you
Tatewaki Kuno pulled the syringe from his vein in sister's neck, and promptly threw it across the room, away from her flailing limbs. As it hit the wall, it cracked into its separate parts; the tube landed with a plop on the floor, while the plunger and the uncapped needle flew in opposite directions to spin harmlessly on the floor.
Kuno's eyes were clenched shut as tight as his arms tightened around his sister's thrashing torso. His fingers ached where sharp, white teeth had gnashed and ground in insulted fury, but he ignored the pain for now.
"Sister," he said, in as disdainful a manner as he could muster. "Please control yourself!"
Her mouth gaped wide, and from the void issued a terrible, keening howl that rose and fell in volume with every spasm. It echoed off of the flat, bare walls and the room seemed to grow in size, drowning out all of his words.
"Stop this at once! Do you have any idea what you look like? You look like a worm, a fish on a boat's deck... utterly, utterly foolish...."
The wail rose anew, and the jerking of her arms and legs intensified. Disdain gave way to pleading. "Please, please control yourself!"
He ignored blow after blow, too frenzied and glancing to be much real harm. He had trouble keeping her from scrabbling away; her strength always seemed to increase tenfold when she had one of these fits....
Her garbled shrieking settled down to an incoherent mumbling, drool trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her convulsions slowed to a mere tremble. "It's all right, sister dear," he jabbered. "Everything is just fine."
Kuno's eyes opened, one at a time; his legs felt shaky and weakened from the still-vivid shock of seeing his sister almost tumble three stories. He managed to assert enough control to drag himself away from Kodachi. His cheek throbbed where she clawed him with her long, manicured nails; blood now trickled freely from three parallel scratches. There she lay, one foot still jerking loosely at the ankle like some poor, sad marionette, a side effect of the medication.
Everything is just fine.
He nursed his bitten fingers, but the internal hurt was much deeper than the marks in his fingers. All the while, he glanced woefully at the toppled doll on the floor. For that is what she looked like in her fluffy, lacy nightgown with her pale limbs askew and her eyes glazed, half-open.
Kuno looked at the pills scattered on the ground, some still in slight motion from the abrupt, rolling liberation from their container. From an original count of sixty tablets two weeks ago, only nine were left. He picked one up and eyed it.
"Just one to calm me down," he promised himself. The glasses on Kodachi's breakfast tray were empty, and had been before they were upset in the struggle. No matter. Kuno settled the pill on his tongue and swallowed it dry, gagging at the taste and the quick ache when it slithered sluggishly down his throat.
He looked. She was still there, not moving. He picked up another pill, swallowed it, another pill, swallowed that. She was still not moving, neither was he, really. Went for another pill, but his fingers were no longer working correctly, and it roguishly slipped through them. He tried again, feebly, but it rattled away.
"We'll renew your prescription tomorrow," he murmured before the heavy sedatives finally grabbed hold and dragged him down under the black, surging waters.
> I go through all this
> Before you wake up
> So I can feel happier
> To be safe up here with you
"Mistress? You're going to be late for-"
Sasuke stopped short at the door.
Brother and sister lay slumped on the floor amongst the chaos of open books and overturned tables. A broken syringe, spilled pills, and an empty phial of Ketalean betrayed the secrets of the Kuno family illness. If not for the vivid color of fresh bruises betraying the life in them, the pale, fishy color in both faces would have made him believe they were dead.
"Dear me."
Sasuke bent quickly to right a table on its side. He went about bustling around the room, carefully picking up shards of broken glassware and scooping dirt back into the potted plants. It would take a lot of work if he wanted to get everything back in order before their father returned.
He continued cleaning, hiding, erasing ugliness, covering up every truth that lay bare. "Don't worry," he murmured. "Your secret's still safe with me."
> Safe up here with you
> Safe up here with you
> Safe up here with you
-fin-
Note: No, I don't know anything about the anesthesia of human beings. Laughably, though, I do know a bit about animals. Ketalean is a store name for ketamine, a common cyclohexamine used to anesthetize not only cats and dogs, but also horses (this fact made me believe it would be an acceptable drug to put in the story - if it can knock out a horse, then it sure as shootin' could knock out a Kuno). It also has been known to cause convulsions if large amounts are given in repeated injections. Intramuscular injection is also painful usually, so we can see why she's so angry. Heck, for all I know, this drug might kill people in real life. So... don't inject your little siblings with this stuff when they act up, okay? I was just groping for a thread of reality to lace into the fiction.
