The Cliffs, part one. Original fic. Rated R.
The Cliffs
April 17th, 1995.
A grey-shrouded sun sets over an endless sea. The grey-blue surface lies in constant motion, drawing the eye with its hypnotic constancy, making it almost a surprise to look down and see the water ending abruptly in a white froth at the cliffs' feet.
The brown rocks are towering, ancient, scarred by age and worn down by water, wind, and sediment. They've been here long enough to take on their own personality, a living incarnation of their country's uncompromising rigidity.
Precariously perched atop one of them today is a young girl. Her long face is scarred by acne, and dark bristles are beginning to show on the waxy skin of her legs. She wears a faded blue schoolgirl's uniform two sizes too small, the waist digging visibly into over-wide hips. She kneels at the precipice, skirt hiked up, seemingly failing to notice the potential cause for embarrassment in the faded polka-dot briefs on display to the indifferent ocean.
Her name is Kazue.
Putting one leg down so it dangles out over the crashing waves below, she props her chin on the other knee, thumb stuck childishly in her mouth. It's getting dark, she thinks. If she's not going to do it, she should go home soon. But the ageless, dignified beauty fills her with a quiet sense of wonder, a chill wind from the sea feeling like the breath of the Gods themselves that first raised her ancestors from the sleeping earth.
A frailer soul might have quailed. Kazue moves her head so that it lies sideways, against her wrist, and, in contrast to the scene's solemnity, grins. Carbon to carbon. They'd had a long discussion about this in her biology class. For every living organism will die, and decompose, breaking down into component parts that become the basis for other organisms. And then, many years beyond that, there will be no more living organisms, and all shall be reduced to atom as the universe slowly expands until it freezes solid, or contracts until there are no longer any atoms, just the one. It is all inevitable, so there is no reason to fear it; and thus the girl named Kazue does not fear death.
She wonders what it will feel like as she sits there, waiting. The ocean water will be bone-freezingly cold, and she knows by experience that the taste is one to make her stomach revolt; and so she chose this particular spot, known for the razor-sharp rocks below, hoping it would be over in an instant. She does not fear death, but she does fear pain, and the unreasoning terror that takes over a body that knows it's dying.
For no particular reason, the girl stretches her neck forward, checking the height and the rocks at the bottom as though they might have changed in the interim since she checked. They haven't. She sits back again, satisfied, but not for long. The sun has almost set, and time's a-wasting.
Will she do it now? She stands up, looks out at the horizon, and hesitates. All right. Steeling herself. Gotta do it now, before you lose your nerve. Kazue herself is not afraid, but her animal instincts are beginning to awaken in fear. Wrapping her arms around herself in a forlorn parody of an embrace, she squeezes her eyes shut and gathers her muscles in preparation for the leap.
April 17th, 1995.
A grey-shrouded sun sets over an endless sea. The grey-blue surface lies in constant motion, drawing the eye with its hypnotic constancy, making it almost a surprise to look down and see the water ending abruptly in a white froth at the cliffs' feet.
The brown rocks are towering, ancient, scarred by age and worn down by water, wind, and sediment. They've been here long enough to take on their own personality, a living incarnation of their country's uncompromising rigidity.
Precariously perched atop one of them today is a young girl. Her long face is scarred by acne, and dark bristles are beginning to show on the waxy skin of her legs. She wears a faded blue schoolgirl's uniform two sizes too small, the waist digging visibly into over-wide hips. She kneels at the precipice, skirt hiked up, seemingly failing to notice the potential cause for embarrassment in the faded polka-dot briefs on display to the indifferent ocean.
Her name is Kazue.
Putting one leg down so it dangles out over the crashing waves below, she props her chin on the other knee, thumb stuck childishly in her mouth. It's getting dark, she thinks. If she's not going to do it, she should go home soon. But the ageless, dignified beauty fills her with a quiet sense of wonder, a chill wind from the sea feeling like the breath of the Gods themselves that first raised her ancestors from the sleeping earth.
A frailer soul might have quailed. Kazue moves her head so that it lies sideways, against her wrist, and, in contrast to the scene's solemnity, grins. Carbon to carbon. They'd had a long discussion about this in her biology class. For every living organism will die, and decompose, breaking down into component parts that become the basis for other organisms. And then, many years beyond that, there will be no more living organisms, and all shall be reduced to atom as the universe slowly expands until it freezes solid, or contracts until there are no longer any atoms, just the one. It is all inevitable, so there is no reason to fear it; and thus the girl named Kazue does not fear death.
She wonders what it will feel like as she sits there, waiting. The ocean water will be bone-freezingly cold, and she knows by experience that the taste is one to make her stomach revolt; and so she chose this particular spot, known for the razor-sharp rocks below, hoping it would be over in an instant. She does not fear death, but she does fear pain, and the unreasoning terror that takes over a body that knows it's dying.
For no particular reason, the girl stretches her neck forward, checking the height and the rocks at the bottom as though they might have changed in the interim since she checked. They haven't. She sits back again, satisfied, but not for long. The sun has almost set, and time's a-wasting.
Will she do it now? She stands up, looks out at the horizon, and hesitates. All right. Steeling herself. Gotta do it now, before you lose your nerve. Kazue herself is not afraid, but her animal instincts are beginning to awaken in fear. Wrapping her arms around herself in a forlorn parody of an embrace, she squeezes her eyes shut and gathers her muscles in preparation for the leap.