Miki Honda - Reasonable Sacrifice [B5]
((Hey guys, sorry about the delay. Anything needs changing, blah blah let me know. 83))
Miki was surprised when the boy she had shot didn’t fall down. She knew she had hit him, because he was running awkwardly, clutching at his stomach and trying his hardest to run. He dropped his pack, the contents spilling out over the grass. It took Miki a minute to realize what was happening, that he was getting away. Adrenaline pounded through her body as she ran just as awkwardly after him, stomping past the body of the girl who she had shot just before. Miki didn’t spare her a glance.
The boy had a head start, but Miki closed in. She raised her gun again and fired wildly, still squinting as the sunrise stung her eyes. The gun went off, though she barely registered the deafening bursts that were exiting the chamber.
This time, he fell. She saw him start to reach for his back when he toppled over in a disheveled heap about forty feet away. She stopped running, her breath returning in deep, frantic gasps. Everything just seemed like it had happened so fast. She stood there for a moment, catching her breath and trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened.
The girl… she sounded like Kana, but it was impossible to see. But what if- no, Miki didn’t want to think right now. She just wanted to get out of here. She didn’t want to reason anything, didn’t want to try and outsmart the system anymore. She wanted to finish the damn thing.
The boy groaned and tried to sit up. Had she not been shaking so bad, Miki might have fired the gun again. Instead she dazedly stumbled toward him, still gasping for air in a manic way.
“If you move…” she managed to wheeze, “I’ll kill you.”
Such a stupid thing to say. She could see that he wouldn’t be alive much longer, anyway. His shirt was stained with several spots of blood which were growing steadily. He too was feebly gasping for air, though she could hear how wet and shallow they were. He couldn’t support his weight anymore and collapsed back onto the ground, looking at her with pained and miserably exhausted eyes. She knew that face. She had known it for years.
Kenji Matsuda lay dying in front of her. Miki’s gun fell to the ground with a dull thud.
It's been a month since Seita has broken up with Miki. She feels relief at the thought of that brief chapter of her life ending; her life is back to normal, almost. School is as dull and unsatisfying as ever, her parents still piss her off, and everything else in the world is back to being uninteresting and not worth the attention. The only noticeable change is in her artwork. Ms. Kadotani is thrilled that Miki's subject matter isn't shocking and political anymore. Mostly, Miki just paints normal, everyday stuff, like horses and landscapes. They're still good paintings, but Miki just doesn't have the energy or the passion anymore to be "out there".
The only thing that she feels strongly about anymore is herself, even though there’s not much to be proud of. And it doesn't bother her if she doesn't think about it.
School is over today. The afternoon brings a light drizzle, something Miki hasn't thought about. She shakes off an embarrassed-looking Masakichi, who has been trying to talk to her a lot lately. She leaves him behind by the shoe lockers, where he had offered to share his umbrella with her. She doesn't want to talk to anyone today, least of all him. She strides confidently into the school grounds, her hair sticking to her forehead and getting in her eyes. Cars speed past on the busy road in front of the school, but she needs to cross. She's left with no choice but to wait at the corner with the other students.
She's the only one without an umbrella. The chivalrous thing would be for someone to offer to share one, but Miki knows that a lot of the kids are intimidated or otherwise not interested in helping her. Even if her personality and artwork is less abrasive lately, she still looks like a freak.
Miki also knows that it's her fault for doing it to herself.
Suddenly, someone standing behind her moves an umbrella over her head, stopping the rain hitting her. Turning around, she sees Kenji Matsuda standing there, looking wary, but encouraging.
"You, uh... looked cold," he says, undoubtedly waiting for Miki to scoff at his generosity.
"Oh... thanks."
The crossing signal turns green, and everyone begins to walk across. Miki and Kenji go together, staying close so they can both fit under the umbrella. Kenji is smiling slightly to himself.
"I thought you were going to yell or... make fun of me or something."
Miki doesn't say anything to this. It kind of makes her feel bad, even though that's what she's done to Kenji since they were kids. Even when they were little, Kenji and Miki weren't alike. After all their squabbles and eye-rollings over the years, they've never said that they hated each other. Between them, there was just awkwardness and neutrality, and they dealt with it as best they could for two such different people.
After an awkward pause, Miki looks at Kenji, sighing. "Kenji, do you think I fight with people too much?"
Kenji looks back at Miki, a confused and anxious expression on his face. "What?"
"Answer the question."
"I dunno."
"Oh, come on. Don't just say 'I dunno'. Tell me what you think."
It takes Kenji a few minutes before he answers. "Well... yeah, sometimes. I mean, some of the things you fight about are..." He looks apologetically at her, "... not really worth it."
"Sometimes I think the same thing." Miki sighs again, looking downcast.
"Really? Then... why do you do it all the time?"
Miki doesn't answer. She doesn't really know. The only thing she can think of is that she craves the attention. That's what Seita had said she was; just an attention-seeking poser. But that couldn't be the real reason... right?
"Is this something that guy said to you? That guy you were dating?"
It was like he could tell what she was thinking. Miki hesitates, caught off guard. She doesn't want to talk about him. She was supposed to be through with Seita. She doesn't even want to think about him anymore.
"Can we change the subject? Let's not talk about this."
"Oh... sorry." Kenji looks apologetic again and doesn't pursue it, instead waiting for Miki to start up another conversation; but they have nothing to talk about. They walk in silence, not saying anything until they reach Kenji's house, where he stands at his front gate. Miki walks from underneath the umbrella, letting the rain fall on her face again.
"Hey, Miki... if you ever need someone to talk to... I'm around, okay?"
Miki looks back at Kenji, smiling despite herself. Yeah, they’re not alike at all, but she's still glad he's there. She waves to him as she turns around and begins walking toward her house.
“Kenji?”
Miki fell to her knees beside him, not knowing what to do. Thoughts raced around in her head, though she couldn’t make sense of them. Should she try and save him? Could she save him? She just sat there, panic flooding through her. She fucking shot him.
“M-miki…”
She was scared how soft his voice was; it was more of a gurgle, really. He coughed up some blood immediately after and it ran down his cheeks, staining his face bright red. He didn’t have the strength to wipe it off.
“H-hang on… wait, I can… I can…” But there was nothing she could do. How many times had she seen this happen? Harumi had laid there, a bullet through her chest, pale and bleeding copiously. Keisuke, with Emi leaning over him while Miki left to chase Akemi, who had collapsed after trying to run for her life. She told Miki she was already dead.
Miki was told once- or was it from a movie- apply pressure to the injury. The problem was, there were so many, all along his stomach, on his back... it was like some sort of sick joke about swiss cheese. She put her hands gingerly on Kenji’s abdomen. He groaned.
“Come one… come on…” Miki felt tears leaking from her eyes. Kenji’s image became blurry as she blinked them away. Rubbing her eye with a free hand, she could smell the blood on her face, then placed it back on Kenji’s drenched abdomen. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know.
“Hurts…” Kenji moaned, reaching over and placing his hand on top of Miki’s, trying to push it away. Miki let out a strangled sob; she could feel her lip tremble, but she kept her hands there, trying fruitlessly to stop the bleeding. She wasn’t thinking about how they weren’t even really friends, or that they never even hung out at school.
She was thinking about how he was always there in her life. Ever since they were little, he had been there.
“Hey, Miki,” Kenji says, “have you heard about Yuu’s party tomorrow?”
Miki looks up uninterestedly from her desk, where she’s trying to get some last-minute sleep before class starts. Kenji gives her his little half-smile, which means he’s sort of uncomfortable.
“Um… yeah, I’ve heard about it.”
“Are you gonna go?”
She considers the idea, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t even know if I’m going to know anyone there.”
“What? Miki, everyone who’s going to be there is in our class. We’ve been here for nearly a whole year,” Kenji says exasperatedly, sounding much more like his usual self.
“Well it’s not like I’ve talked to a lot of people in this class. Some people just seem like jerks. Like Eizo.”
Kenji sighs. “You should give people a chance, Miki.” He gives his awkward smile again as he adds “you should come. I bet it’ll be fun.”
“I’ll… think about it,” Miki concedes. Kenji looks satisfied as he walks over to his desk. Maybe... he does have a point.
Kenji’s eyes began to flutter after a while. Miki was still in hysterics, holding her hands to his damaged torso, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. The blood was now cold on her hands, congealing rapidly. It was disgusting, but she was afraid to let go.
“Kenji! Kenji! Wake up! Don’t fall asleep!” she yelled at him over and over, in a constant stream of wails and admonitions. In every movie she had seen, this sign of wanting to sleep meant they were close to death. Miki couldn’t accept that, she wouldn’t accept that. Fuck the movies. Fuck everything.
“I always…” Kenji whispered to her. Miki stopped yelling, through she was still breathing hard, occasionally sniffling. She bent closer.
“Kenji? Come on, please… Just keep talk-”
“Always…”
Then his eyes closed.
“Always? Always what? Kenji?”
He didn’t say anything. She couldn’t feel him move anymore; his shallow breathing had stopped. Miki shook harder than ever, drawing her
face into her knees and dissolving into more wails of misery.
She killed him.
She was so tired of not being able to save anyone.