I Will Remember You-Reese15

Chapter Fifteen: Division’s Game
Choosing the lesser of two Evils

Nevaeh or Yumi.

Which one?

No. Neither. I can’t take one. I need both.

Yumi or Nevaeh.

My sister or my love.

I can’t take this. My head hurts. Decisions are impossible.

Nevaeh is the youngest. She’s only two and a half. She’s got a whole life ahead of her. Plus, Yumi hates you. She doesn’t know you. Yumi could care less if you chose her, she wouldn’t be flustered. She’d spit in your face if you chose her anyways. She’s not expecting you to save her.

Yumi doesn’t know me. And if she dies now, she’ll never know. Never know that secret that’s been burning inside of me for so long. She doesn’t know the things that I need to tell her. She’s got a family. A little brother. They need her to fight on Lyoko. I love her. I love her, I love her, I love her.

Choose Nevaeh.

No, don’t!

Yumi…

I’d kill you if you chose me!

Nevvie…

Bruggerrrr!

But I love…

Both.

Yumi squirmed slightly in my father’s grip. Hoping to somehow get some time, I raised my hands in a wait signal, and slowly circled him so I was out in the courtyard facing him. He circled with me, keeping the two girls still hostage. All three pairs of their eyes were on me, one green, the other two brown. My head rumbled and rambled with complete confusion. I had nothing to do. Nothing to say.

And I had no idea how long my father’s patience would last.

“Tick, tock…,” My father coldly reminded. I stifled a pained moan and forced my eyes to flash around. Suddenly I knew why no one was helping.

No one was there.

Yumi finally couldn’t stand the wait, and began spitting at me in furious Japanese. I guess she figured if I knew some, I knew enough.

“What the hell are you doing? What are you waiting for?! She’s your sister, dammit! She’s only two and a half! God almighty, it shouldn’t be that hard of a decision, should it?!” She looked like she had a whole windbag of reasons backed up behind her, but her rant was cut a little short when my father turned the gun so he could twist the cold metal gently into her throat. She let out a small wince and stretched herself desperately away, only using her neck to do so.

“Why is it…,” she pleaded quietly, still in Japanese, “so hard…?”

My father hissed a dangerous warning having to deal with the language she was currently speaking in. Yumi’s voice died down with a quivering whimper that echoed into silence. She closed her eyes, probably trying to envision herself elsewhere. Thin, glistening tears began to slowly run down her cheeks because she understood that she was the best candidate to die. She was just trying to cope with that single, frozen fact that she was on the bridge of lifelessness. She was going to leave the material world, embrace the cold acceptance of whatever comes after this life, and mercilessly leave behind a little brother, two parents, and a diminishing group of determined friends who only wanted a safe world. That wasn’t right. This isn’t right.

It’s a Victor Hugo topsy-turvy town all over again—straight out of French literature class.

“I…I…,” I stuttered. I what? I give up? I give in? I want Nevaeh? I want Yumi? I want both? I just want peace?

No…

I want revenge.

And yet I can’t get it. Not now. Not with their lives hanging by a thin thread connected to a slowly turning death spool. This is the turning point. This is where I can finally snap, because I can have everything I want, but I can’t have anything that I need.

“I…can’t…,”

My father raised an eyebrow, as sharp as Mr. Spock’s perfect expression.

“Can’t,” He confirmed shortly, “Can’t.”

My head spun, and I placed a hand on one side of my forehead to try to help steady it. Needless to point out, it didn’t help. My father had no intentions on helping me either, as he soon made that apparent.

“I should’ve figured. You can’t do anything anyways. Just look at yourself. Protecting a Jap like this,”

Wince and flinch.

“What’s more, shall we dip back a few months? Your pathetic little attempts that you did back then?”

Oh God. He was referring to my mother. I dropped my head and clutched it as the blood pounded through my brain, reminded of memories best left forgotten. Softly, ever so softly, I began to moan in pain as the world became dizzy at the edges.

“Failed at everything you did. Before you switched schools that little group that you hung out with made you even more of a failure—and even though you changed somewhat you still carried on with your failures. All the way through. You even listened to your mother when you shouldn’t have, and now, well, look where she is. I’m a little certain that if you’d have been there things would’ve been…different,”

I know that. I know that, dammit! If I had just been there…If I had arrived there earlier…

The moans became more pained and louder.

“And look at what you can’t do now. You can’t even choose between your sister and a Jap. Maybe it was too much to ask to show up late for conferences. Well son? Don’t you agree, you’ve failed?”

I have failed, haven’t I?

I couldn’t stop myself from leaving Kadic all those years ago, leaving my friends open to the nightmare that is Xana. When I got home I couldn’t stop the abuse that my father gave—and was totally helpless against stopping all of the terror my mother went through. I was stupid at school—yeah, I got straight A’s, but I was stupid to not get help then, tricking myself into not getting help, ever. Tara was there, but I took her for granted. Hell, I took everything for granted, even in the heat of my father’s never-ending fists. My mother died! Not a breath left in her—heck, her lungs were probably torn out anyways! All of that blood that could’ve been avoided if only I had stayed, all of the paranoia of my friends’ safety would’ve never existed, and my sister would be oblivious to this pain and fear. From the moment that I had received my first scar, my life had been a big file with capital red ‘fail’ stamped on it. Failed. Failed. Failed.

“Gaah…Gaah…,” I struggled.

Forget the muttering. Forget all of that.

I had fallen to my knees, face turned to the unforgiving sky, fingers digging into my eye sockets, releasing a pained scream that must’ve been heard for miles, and must’ve echoed forever in the minds of all who heard it—well, except for my father of course. What else can I say? That I felt like a helpless leper whose skin was eating away to my organs underneath just by the pure knowledge that I couldn’t save them?

I can’t choose.

I can’t save them both!

A minute, maybe two, and my scream died down, leaving nothing—not even a crow—making the slightest amount of noise in that wake. My head dropped to the ground, devoid of any neck support. Hands went clammy and limp, and dropped to the dirt underneath my knees. Stray grains of dust attached to the dampness of my fingers. Breaths escaped my shaky ribcage, my back heaving dangerously up and down.

A choked silence followed. I could only imagine what was going through Yumi’s head—and as for Nevaeh, I didn’t want to know how she felt to see her ‘strong’ brother hopelessly break right in front of her. And for my dad, I could only hope that he wasn’t thinking about what I didn’t want him to do.

For a moment there was nothing, then my father sounded like he was going to say something, until something unimaginable happened. I’m talking about really unimaginable.

Most people put tons of faith into their siblings. Take Nevaeh for example: how much faith do you think she puts in me? Half her life? Ninety percent of her life? Her entire life? That’s a whole lot of faith, mind you, and put on me? God above, do you know how much that puts on my chest? You barely feel it at first until you either sit down and really think about it—or that certain sibling’s life is placed in the face of danger. And once it is, the only thing that runs through your head is I should’ve protected them better. Though it mostly applies to older siblings, there is a smidgen of faith that the older one does put in the younger sibling.

I just keep wondering why I didn’t put more of my faith into Nevaeh.

She is my sister after all, and if anybody knows me, they know that I can’t normally sit there and do nothing.

With that being said, my sister took full on after me by pure instinct, opened her mouth wide like a good girl should before taking in a mouthful, and with her tiny toddler teeth chomped down hard on my father’s hand so badly that it nearly drew blood.

“Gaah, you little twit!” My father screeched as the knife dropped to the ground and his hand shot up in reflex, releasing the little girl. All too fast this happened, and before the both of us knew it, Yumi and I were screaming the same thing.

“Run! Run, Nevaeh! Ruuuun!”

Nevaeh stumbled a few steps away from my father, giving me one glance. Frantically I pointed to my right, to the woods and the vending machines. I stood up, emphasizing to where she should run. She choked a sob and half-crawled half-dashed into the vending shed. Safe, for now.

As soon as Yumi realized I had Nevaeh’s situation pretty much covered, she took immediate action over the fact that my father was very distracted for one heartbeat. Using those heavily hurtful boots, she slammed down on Lukas’s foot while at the same time grabbing the barrel of the gun, easily prying it away from her neck with the extra leverage the barrel gave her. It sure as hell wasn’t perfect because of my father’s rough hand, but the great news was that she pushed his hand far enough away to snake away from him. Bad news was that she stumbled as she uneasily broke from him, leaning way over. For half a second it looked as if she was going to grab the discarded knife, but as she drastically saw, my father was one step ahead of her as he put one foot on the blade. Yumi stopped short, gagged a bit, and gathered herself up to keep running.

My mouth didn’t move fast enough to warn her. Light travels faster than sound—I only wish it were the reverse. All I could see was my father stoop down to pick up the knife, and my mind clicked to the obvious next step.

“Yu—Yumi! Yumi!” was all that came out before she got the message to nimbly dodge what could’ve been a fatal attack. That doesn’t necessarily mean she didn’t get hurt.

She gasped loudly; giving a short scream of terror as half of the blade plunged, slicing part of her side, at the belly. A sob messily escaped her lips as droplets of blood flew forward with the force of the stab. She stepped awkwardly to the side, her eyes diverted from everything else until I caught a short flash of them. I staggered and waited. My father looked half-triumphant, standing over Yumi.

“Where did you think you were going? Running away just like a good old Jap, huh?”

By the time the sound of the ‘J’ got out of my father’s big mouth, Yumi followed through with her major feint, and dropped down, using her strong side and leg to sweep the legs out from under Lukas. She succeeded too—he went collapsing backwards and fell to the ground suddenly with a loud, unmistakable grunt.

The next thing that happened to him even made me flinch and had my heart twitch for him for about a fraction of a second. But only a fraction.

Reason being, Yumi’s hard core boot came smashing into my father’s ‘prized possession’ right before she turned tail and sprinted far away, leaving my father to writhe for as long as we hopefully needed.

My tongue flapped about in my mouth as Yumi gripped her wound desperately, wincing each time she put weight on that side, a cry of pain coming with each exhaled breath. Finally I found the grounds to talk as she approached doggedly.

“Yumi…! Yumi, Yumi! Are you okay? Yumi…!” I blabbered, unsteady. The last few steps she took fumbled straight into my arms. I side stepped slightly, thrusting an arm out as a bar to catch her at the shoulders, my other arm placed on her back to hopefully steady her.

“I’m fine…!” She gasped, rather surprised but still in high-pitched pain, “I’m fine…I’m, I’m fine!”

All of my thoughts and senses directed straight to her as I kept her upright, even though she was fully crouched over. She wheezed for breaths, half to try and cope with her wound, and the other half to try and calm herself down as she had just dodged a huge bullet. Just trying to calm the panic inside of me down myself, I busied myself with gently massaging the middle of her back (and bluntly ignoring I was around the area of her bra strap—yes, bluntly ignored, I swear.)

Yumi coughed, caught a weep and pulled it back, before she managed to spit out one whispered statement.

“Oh God, Oh God…I almost died, I almost…died…,”

I tried to tell her no, but that would be a blatant lie. What could I say? What could I do? I needed to say something, right?

“Do something for me…,” I asked quietly with a trembling voice. Yumi struggled to straighten up, listening, “Please, I…Please, take Nevaeh away from here. Please,” I pleaded, struggling to hold back a batch of tears of my own. Yumi gave me a long, blank stare, but warmly nodded, fully understanding. A tsunami wave of relief bombarded my heart, and a warmth came washing over me. It was similar to love, but there was a slight difference in it. Yes, I loved Yumi, and knew that she hated me. But if she was sensible enough to put aside her hate for one moment to help me in the best way possible by merely racing my sister away from Hell regardless if I was able to escape with her or not, then this was able to wrap a certain amount of security around me—a security I haven’t felt in far too long.

We stood there, staring at each other, one in blank seriousness despite her wound, and the other in relieved shock. It was a tender, warm moment, brutally shattered within two seconds.

Something stirred behind Yumi, and my eyesight flickered to the background. All I saw was a small, dark hole, and the panic, anger, and reflexes instantly returned, washing away the soft moment.

“Down!” I screamed as I grabbed Yumi’s back and basically slapped her down into the ground, giving her a face of dirt. She caught herself and stepped forward multiple times, swerving around just in time to see something she probably didn’t want to see as I stepped in front of her.

The sound of somebody slapping a dictionary on a table echoed shortly through the still air as a bullet passed through an improvised silencer hastily fastened on in the moments that we weren’t paying attention, signaling the immediate release of something very, very deadly. The source of the sound came from a position close to the ground as he still was, so it wasn’t as deadly as it could’ve been, but it was definitely bad enough.

I knew what happened before I felt it. The bullet hit me soundly in the belly, just above the belly button. It tore through sinew and muscle, spurting a mini blood fountain from the hole. I don’t know how far it actually got, but damn if it didn’t almost tear through me whole. Yumi screamed louder than a lion’s roar, and from that my judge was that something happened out there in my back—maybe a giant splotch of blood or something. Her cries became more feral like that lion though as I heard her unnaturally step in awkward patterns, probably dizzy from the reality of the situation. I’m sure being a Lyoko Warrior never brought out something this humanly disgusting.

But honestly forget about Yumi, because someone else saw this happen too, and the only reason why I hear her reaction better now was because of the sheer horror that she had seen this unfold before her vision before she was ready.

“Bruggerrrr?!!!” There was confusion and yet a tad bit of understanding in Nevaeh’s voice as I fell to my knees once again, trying to cover up the dire hole in my stomach. I scrunched my eyes to try and dull the pain as well as gritting my teeth—although all it did was make me breathe and cough out blood. It was a hideous mess. And my two and a half year old sister witnessed it.

“Oh God, Reese? Reese?!” Yumi called out desperately. Through the crunching feeling of just being hit by a train, I managed to grind out an urgent reminder.

“Nevaeh…ungh, get Nevaeh, go! Go!”

Yumi coughed and dashed over into the vending machines as I finally opened my eyes to see my father shakily get up, still suffering from Yumi’s crushing boot of doom—the gun in his hands and still pointed at where I was standing. I gave him a nasty glare; not because he shot me, but because he was aiming for somebody he should’ve never even thought of shooting in my presence. Off to my side Yumi quickly caught Nevaeh before she ran out to me, quietly, hastily trying to counsel her as she wrapped her trembling arms around her, making sure Nevaeh couldn’t see what was happening. I could hear the presence of tears in her voice as she feverishly whispered to my sister.

It made me hate my father even more.

And all of that hatred gathered within me and gave me unexpected strength.

Placing one foot up and underneath me, I slowly, painstakingly got up using one free hand, the other one keeping track of my eagerly bleeding wound. Not one time did I take my stare away from my father, keeping it fixed directly upon his movement.

“That was a nice show you put on there…,” Lukas said darkly, “but all for nothing?”

I spat blood at him in response. Yumi turned her head swiftly around to see me barely standing without help, and panic settled into her throat, bursting into her speech.

“Reese, what are you doing?” She cried powerlessly. My father’s angry death stare fixated on her, and all too well did I know what was going to happen next. With the last bits of my strength, I powered up my legs and leaped in between them.

Multiple things happened in one second. My father raised his gun to my head while Yumi yelped out a very clear ‘no.’ As I glanced at the two girls to make sure they were okay, I realized that not only was the courtyard still empty, but now the vending machines pretty much were as well, except for Nevaeh and Yumi. My thoughts flashed to Xana as my torso burned with excruciating sting from the gunshot. Lukas put his finger on the trigger, ready to fire regardless if I was in the way or not.

And then we were all enveloped in a blinding white globe of light, and everything was sent back into a sleepless coma.

DETERMINATION: Also could be seen as stubbornness, but who’s counting?
Jeremy is, at least.

Kiwi was thrown up in a fly as my legs kicked high into the air with the sheets, my chest pounding so hard I thought that my heart was going to burst out of my sternum any moment now. I sat up so quickly that the chemicals in my brain threw me off balance and I swayed, nearly knocking the wall with my head. I caught a wild scream just before it split my lips, making me cough multiple edgy times to make sure it stayed down. Kiwi growled and nipped at my feet, angry that he had been rudely awakened so badly in the middle of the night. The dog’s attempted injuries were the last thing on my mind, though, and if I had to spell out why for you I might as well just stop right here and now.

If Odd was awake he sure did a fantastic job of hiding it. I didn’t even pause long enough to get dressed save for throwing my jacket on over my sleeping tank-top with also the bonus of my green striped cotton pajama pants. Not even shoes were put on my feet.

I took enough time and sense to glance at the clock, which shone a red 0:01 for me to clearly read. I smirked passively, and grabbed my cell phone before slipping out into the dimly lit hallway.

Flipping the phone open, I quickly tapped up Aelita’s re-entered cell phone number, sending her a very quick text message. She didn’t reply immediately, and I didn’t really expect her to.

At the end of the boy’s hallway I quietly creaked the door open, gingerly shutting it behind me. Before I could stutter a hello, Aelita swiftly grabbed my hand and led me down the stairs to the outside.

Well now. So much for the phone.

Her hair was slightly tussled from sleep, as well as it being down, loosely hanging about her shoulder blades. She had a short pink nightshirt on, with cute white sleep shorts that hung halfway down her thighs. She was silent and slightly clumsy, but ever so shocked into being awake that I dared not help or question her as she walked by moonlight in her sandals to the aspen. As we got there she took in some deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. She faced me tenderly, concern seeping from her eyes to mine. As she struggled to find a word to start, she glanced downwards.

“You’re not wearing any shoes…!” She exclaimed in a hushed tone, staring up at me in motherly wonder, “Ulrich—,” Aelita began, sounding just like a mother as well. I’m sure it took her mind off of what she was going to say, but heck, we didn’t have time for that.

“I’m quite sure that going barefoot is the least of our problems, Aelita,” I chided before she could go on, “We both saw what happened, and how quickly and horribly it went. Tell me your end first,”

Aelita shifted her feet and told me all the things that I didn’t quite see at first.

“Jeremy, Odd and I, well, as soon as Yumi and Nevaeh were dragged out, well, we started to finally understand the extent of this attack. Jeremy made a note on why the courtyard was deserted—I think he recalled that there was an auditorium presentation at just that right moment. And then, you…fell to the ground, screaming. I, I er…Odd jumped a bit, and through the shocked silence, he gathered enough sense within him to pull us away to the factory while the getting was good. If he didn’t say that then, I’m not sure what would’ve happened…,

“Jeremy wasn’t even reluctant at the idea of taking a return trip. The only thing he warned was that of course it’d make Xana stronger, and that we couldn’t keep making return trips until we got this right. Despite that, it took him no time to pull up the program at all…,”

As she finished, I launched into my half of the story that she missed without even thinking twice.

“No time at all, right. He could’ve done it before Yumi got sliced in the side and I got shot through the abdomen, you know,”

Aelita drew in a sharp breath through her teeth, frightened. I shook my head.

“He’s real, princess. A dragon with his own lair on his back wherever he goes. Thank God Nevaeh wasn’t hurt, but at that exact moment the return trip got to us he had the gun pointed at my head…,”

“No,” Aelita interrupted as soon as I drifted off, “No, no, stop. I don’t want to hear it. Ohhhhh…,” Woozily she wobbled from side to side before she steadied herself against the aspen, gratefully accepting my help as I guided her down to the ground so she could sit. It took her a couple of breaths of oxygen before she was okay again.

“Sorry,” I murmured a little darkly, “I’m just a little…,”

“Sh-Shaken up?” Aelita finished, agreeing with me that we all were. I let out some air as I confirmed it, and laid my back against the aspen next to her.

“I can’t believe that…,” she began, choking on her words. I shushed her lightly, holding back my own current fears for her sake.

“No one can…I just wish…,” I muttered, feeling utterly weak against this. I sighed, “I just wish I could do something…anything. If only we could make this different…,”

An oppressive stillness smothered us as we sat there, knowing what was to come but completely blank on what could be done to fix—or prevent—it. Aelita murmured a few sleepy groans, resting her head in her arms and rolling it around, hoping to find a kind of idea that would be able to help us.

“I could…I could ask Yumi about her sword…,” she said lowly.

“What?” I questioned, a little overwhelmed by my sudden tiredness. Aelita hummed sleepily and explained for me.

“She could bring her sword later in the day, say, in the evening. At least we’ll have that…,” I twisted my mouth in contemplation. Out of habit, my jaw crooked to the side as well as I tried to focus my sticky eyes onto a new fern leaf growing out of the ground.

“Yeah, it would help, but it wouldn’t really do much…Haven’t you ever heard of ‘Don’t bring a sword to a gunfight?’” I downgraded. Aelita shrugged.

“You fought with a sword on Lyoko, that was pretty much all gunfights,” she pointed out. I felt a mite sheepish, but wasn’t ready to be beaten by that.

“That’s different,” I protested, “That was virtual life with easy to deflect lasers on a video-game world. This is…this is real life, Aelita,”

Real life. How I wished it was virtual.

Of course Aelita knew that from the start, but the forced knowledge of it made her sigh sickly, knowing I was right.

“Well, what else could we do? We’re a little more prepared for it because we know, sure, but what else…?”

I began to nibble on a thumbnail, trying to keep myself half-awake, “Well…there’s always the faculty…but I…don’t really want to go through all of that. I mean, with my false identity, my sister, my father, you guys, all the others…parent-teacher conferences…I…I don’t know. The police aren’t here to bodyguard, they just show up when something goes wrong…,” I muttered sadly. Aelita let out a slightly pissed gripe as she angrily replied.

“Well, that’s stupid. Incredibly stupid. Something has gone wrong and we know it’s going to happen—only, crap, we can’t tell how, and if we do we’re the ones that they’re going to lock up! Oh, Oh Ulrich this is a mess! A godforsaken mess!”

“Stole the words right out of my mouth…,” I drifted, my gaze wandering up to the budded branches to the night sky above. A few moments passed where Aelita tried to get a grip on what was going to happen and where I desperately thought of ways to better the situation. Nothing blinked in my head.

After what seemed like hours, Aelita finally spoke again, softly and with heavy breaths.

“I’m tired. And cold. Hummmm…is there really nothing we can do?” she asked just one more time. I slowly shook my head, devastated to believe it, but compelled to nonetheless. Aelita stood up.

“Come with me back to the dorm—at least try to sleep. We all need it for the upcoming…disaster,”

I stood up with her, making a final decision. She took a few steps before she turned around and looked at me, expectant. I jumped upon my chance.

“Aelita…if, if anything wrong happens…and Nevaeh comes out…you know, unharmed, and I…,” I swallowed a gulp, and Aelita shut her eyes to reflect a flinch, “Well, um…what I’m saying is…if that does happen, would you take care of her for me…? F-For the both of them, Nevaeh and…,”

Aelita softly mouthed our friend’s name, and looked off to the side, biting her lower lip to dam the undoubted tears that were edging to come out. She then looked at me, trying to desperately tell herself that everything would be okay somehow.

“That’s a…low chance that it would happen…right?” she asked, trying to confirm something.

I didn’t answer.

She inhaled a huge breath through her mouth shakily, trembling as she did so. Smoothly she exhaled through her nose, trying to force images and scenarios from her mind.

“Yes. I swear I will, I promise,” she said slowly, nothing but pure truth ringing from her words. I gave a small, but overly gracious thank you, and accompanied her back to our dorms, where we tried to sleep but failed miserably.

Failed.

Like I feel I have.

RIGHTEOUS: A strong will of the heart for the good of all.
Strong is the will with Yumi.

No books. Little talk. Simply people-watching as they slowly made their way to the auditorium, totally oblivious to the calamity they were about to sorely miss for the worse. I stood within the group of four Lyoko Warriors as I edgily anticipated the arrival of a flaming meteor. Yumi was almost strangling my poor sword as she stood there, hugging herself and staring into the deepest depths of space, more than likely reliving the dangers of last night in her brain. After the longest time of not speaking at all—and a record of eternity for not showing any audible care for me—she spoke in a quiet, trembling and slightly scared voice.

“Reese…,” she puttered, her eyes still unfocused even though she was heavily concentrating on her words, “If…anything happens recently…can you at least say that—,” she paused suddenly, trying to hide her shaky intake of air, “that you wouldn’t do anything stupid?”

I hid my flashed smirk, and gave her a quizzical look. She shook her head, and hugged herself tighter. Timing everything right, I glanced over at the gatehouse.

On meeting gazes, I gave her the saddest, most apologetic look I could muster, and tried to fight back the stinging tears in my eyes. Finally I had to tear my sight away, giving Aelita the sign to move inward. We did, and by the time we were inside of the vending shack, everyone else mingling outside in the courtyard was locked safely within the auditorium.

And from that point on we were on our own, stuck in reality’s fast-paced death grip. There was nothing we could possibly do but play out our parts as the rightful Shakespeare actors that we were in this winding tragedy of my life.

It went hauntingly similar to the last time, in fact, I wanted to scratch my eyes out it went according to yesterday so well. Before I knew it, Yumi had a gun pointed at her head, Nevaeh a knife to the chin, and I was out in the courtyard without the sword.

Goddammit. I wasn’t able to pick it up through the blinding rage at my father’s abusive tendencies, and everything happened so fast that I was knocked aside before I could do anything, and Yumi was captured with the sword shaken off within a heartbeat. I felt like screaming. The sword had done nothing. I refused help once again. I was standing here, my father was once again spelling it out for me.

You’re a failure.

Nothing but a failure.

And though you’re rock bottom, you’re still able to drill farther down with my help.

With this, you’ll only do one thing more in your life:

Fail.

I had to choose once again.

Nevaeh or Yumi.

Yumi or Nevaeh.

My sister or my love.

My knees hit the craggy ground, sharp rocks cutting past the fabric of my pants. I felt the sick sensation of my fingers tearing at my face as my scream once again chillingly rippled through the evening with not a helpful soul to hear it. Yumi was crying after she couldn’t hold back anymore, and Nevaeh was so silent she was scaring me. The damaging hands of mine fell to the ground as before, powerless and pathetic. Yumi squirmed, earning a cold barrel shoved farther into her skin. Nevaeh did nothing.

Nothing. She did nothing.

Aelita and Odd were still there, Jeremy, I don’t know—probably escaping to the factory alone.

And nothing happened. No one did anything, not before Aelita burst without warning.

“What…What are you doing?! Are you just going to sit there? Look at yourself! It’s no wonder people think you’re a failure, if you just sit there and do nothing! Lives are on a thin wire here! Reese—curse you Reese! Get up! Get…up!” she screamed. My father’s attention turned to her, but he surprisingly did nothing. Fueled by this for confidence, Aelita boldly continued, gripping the sword in her hands as her voice got angrier and more desperate as she went on.

“You’ve got legs, don’t you? Get up! I swear, Reese Anders, get up! Get up or I’ll…I’ll…,” She gritted her teeth and twisted at the sheath, “I’ll dump you!!” she blurted clumsily.

Nobody but me knew the true purpose of that. She wasn’t my girlfriend, but that threat came merely to lighten my spirits—bring me back to the real world with a shock of humor. And boy did it ever.

My eyes blinked multiple times, suddenly more aware and awake. She’ll dump me? Oh that’s classic, Aelita!

She suddenly let out a most frustrated howl of rage as tears of hopelessness dotted her eyes for real, and she did one of the most helpful things she could’ve ever done to clear up this situation.

Seemingly out of her bombardment of anger, she took a few steps forward, building up the right amount of momentum, and hurled the sword at me, the thing smacking my shoulder not unkindly and landing near me at a diagonal direction, the sword released from the hilt by quite a few centimeters. Wow. She really does throw like a girl. I don’t say that in a mean way, either. That stung! Aelita took in a few breaths, crying full blast now, and stepped back, hoping, just praying that she did the right thing.

The blade reflected the early moonlight and the last few rays of the sunset with such a perfection that even a King’s mirror would be jealous of. The blade was well-cared for, in both physical and spiritual ways. There was a aura of honor to it, as well as memories that cast shadows of sadness, hope, and joy all at the same time, building up the instinct to draw the sword for more than the reason to harm or kill—but for the reason to release the memories, let them run wild up and down the shining blade, making it shine and twinkle with proud courage. Draw the blade and let the emotions flow from the blade to your arm to your heart, swelling up your faith and gallantry to the point of brave insanity. But it was a good insanity. A calm type of insanity. A warrior’s insanity.

I hadn’t felt that for so long. The warrior’s insanity—I needed it. It must’ve become a long lost addiction of mine. That sword, it was mine. It was cared for when I was gone, cared for and cried over, ultimately waiting for my return.

Now I have returned. The insanity had been restored inside of me, and I was ready to let loose. Dare challenge me now, I have the comfort of my memories to hold me up. It won’t matter if you killed me—my thoughts, my friends, my memories will forever live on in this sword, in the story of my Warrior’s Insanity, adding to the legendary fables of the entire Warrior’s Insanity in the world.

Face me now.

I am restored.

Nevaeh finally, finally took her chance. My father screamed in agony and reared back. Yumi screamed to run, Aelita crouched down with her arms open, beckoning to her.

“Run to me, Nevaeh! Run to me!”

“Run, go to Aelita, ruuuun!”

Run, little sister…I followed in my head. Run, little girl…this is my battle, and my battle alone.

Yumi lost her timing and struggled against my father, and to both of our horror’s she was unable to break free. My father in turn twisted the gun so hard into her forehead that she had to bite back a very sharp cry as a thin line of blood trickled down the side of her face. He continued to chide me, his tone dark and devious.

“That’s the choice made for you…,” he seethed, “Any last objections before we…follow through?” he added with an ill sort of metaphor. I didn’t say anything, but just sat there. Aelita drew in sharp breaths, worried that her ploy hadn’t worked. Yumi shut her eyes and began to mouth a few vows or prayers in Japanese. Time became a statue, waiting for me and for me alone. My father shrugged.

“Well then, if that’s how you are…,”

Yumi whimpered as he pulled the gun slightly away, lowering it to her neck like last time, the barrel grazing her skin ever so lightly in a bastardly seductive way.

Enough for me.

Boiling oil seethed in my veins, and the cool hilt of the sword became gripped in my gloved hand, the familiar sensation buzzing up my arm and relaxing my nerves for whatever came next. A smooth, delicious sound of metal scraping against a sheath sliced the sky as I stood up, the glittering blade and the frosty gun demonically waiting.

Reunited after so long, with the Warrior’s Insanity pumping hot blood through my body.

Damn, it was the most perfect feeling ever.

Bring your worst, daddy.

My father sniffed and adjusted the gun, clicking back the safety.

“Wait,” I said, grabbing his curious attention. He cocked another Spock eyebrow as I gathered up my reasons.

“I’m…sorry about disappointing you, really. I always knew what the…Japs were,” I choked out, hoping he didn’t notice the contempt of saying that word in my voice. Yumi gave an immense flinch. I avoided eye contact.

“It was just a…act,” I confessed. I felt the anger of betrayal bubble up in Yumi’s blood from where I stood as I continued, “If I may have the honors?” I asked emotionlessly, gesturing with my sword vaguely in Yumi’s direction. A smirk very similar to mine spread on my father’s face, and to my ultimate relief, the gun was lowered from her neck, swiftly pocketed away. Yumi could’ve used this opportunity to break away, but she was too busy standing proud in her spot despite the language used, staring at me with nothing but narrowed eyes, somehow saying that I hadn’t taken away her honor or her pride, and that her anger was repressed to hide her betrayed feelings. Her spine was straight and rigid as she stood tall against all odds, staring me down with silent tears crawling down her face, emphasizing her defiance.

I’m so sorry, Yumi.

Lukas grabbed a hold of her upper arms and squeezed, making sure she wasn’t going anywhere. She twitched and a sneer blinked on her face, ready to go down screaming a war cry. In fact, she looked totally ready to go down and wouldn’t for the world try to break away from this honorable death.

These thoughts in mind, I slowly advanced. Odd jerked forward, only to be stopped by Aelita’s hand and her pleading gaze, silently telling him that she knew that everything would turn out okay. Odd looked dashingly reluctant, but Aelita backed up her strength as she grasped Nevaeh’s shoulder tighter. The space between me and Yumi closed so we were only a half an arm’s length apart. Not looking at my father in fear of my eyes giving myself away, I raised the sword at an angle to my collarbone, and took a few more steps to shut the gap.

Yumi lifted her chin away from the chilled metal as the sharp side of it left nothing but a thin layer of air between it and her skin. The blade was placed so the hilt was near her neck, the sword extending out to the space in between my father’s shoulder and his head. Finally I locked gazes with her, sliding in so my body was nearly pressed to hers, the sword separating us. I never left her eyes, fully allowing the advent of a soul gaze to happen.

I’m not sure what she saw in my eyes, but I knew what I first saw in her deep sea of chocolate.

Anger. Betrayal. Hatred. Pride. Honor. Strength. Fire.

And then the soul gaze was taken deeper in, and I saw things I’m sure she’d never show under the toll of death. I saw them, and it pained me to know that this was her real self that she had hidden behind the other blanket.

Grief. Desperation. Loss. Breakdown. Weakness. Need. Broken. Lost. Afraid. Alone. Ice.

Bolts of lightning struck me as I gazed into her, suddenly making me hate myself even more than before. Why was she feeling these things? Why?

Because of me.

God…God damn…

I restrained my anger, or rather, I let it flow to the right place—the sword. I focused all of my rage down into my arm so it rang through the metal, and I pressed the sharp edge into Yumi’s soft, warm neck, following through and pressing my body against hers, feeling her warmth against me. My unscarred cheek grazed her hair to one side, and I inhaled deeply, taking in her gentle yet firm scent. I closed my eyes, letting myself relax to her calming scent. Yumi grasped a breath and held it in. Lukas might’ve started to get the real idea what was going on, and one of his arms released Yumi to reach back into his pocket.

Things that were slow-moving before suddenly jerked into super sonic speed with one smooth, skilled movement of the blade. A flick of the wrist, and most of the flat part of the sword was now against Yumi’s skin, and with no hesitation whatsoever, the angle was changed and then cruelly drawn across in a slick line, gliding across air. Yumi shivered in a daze as the touch of death skipped across her, leaving her unharmed. My father jerked and yelled in surprise as that same touch didn’t exactly skip across him.

With the sword partly bloodied from my father’s now cut shoulder, I hastily grabbed Yumi around the waist, jolting her from her death-transfixed state as I jumped back with her in one arm. My father’s pained scream quickly transitioned to one of seething rage. I swept the sword back into action and slashed across the other way this time, catching his gun arm and part of his stomach. He didn’t react, simply dropped the gun on the ground in front of him as the pain seared up his arm. They weren’t deep cuts, but I sure bet my entire budget that they stun like crazy.

My blood pumped like wildfire in me, gleeful that it was finally being released with such joy. Yumi uttered shocked murmurs beside me as we quickly stepped backward, away from Lukas. I didn’t let go of her until we were back to where I originally started, and I was sure that she was capable of standing on her own. Only then did I slowly unwrap my arm from around her, never taking my gaze away from my father.

The Warrior’s Insanity simmered down unexpectedly, conquered by something else entirely—something that truly scared me deep down. I didn’t know the name for it then, but I clearly recognize it now.

Hatred.

Pure, unsettled, ancient hatred.

My voice came out unfamiliar to me, as a smooth, snarling wolfish command as dark as my dreams themselves. It was then I realized that this was my nightmare speaking out from the confinement of dreams.

“Yumi. Get. Out.”

Yumi shivered and moaned weakly.

“Out.” I demanded. She flinched and began to slowly creep back to the vending machines. My father’s eyes burned as he pulled the gun out. In a flash of moonlight, the sword lashed out in front of Yumi, making her stop short in surprise. I glared through my father, daring him to go on.

“Go on. Try and shoot. I’ll kill you if you so much as aim,” I warned.

And I meant it, too.

Lukas looked as though he was about to shoot no question, but for some strange reason, he lowered the gun, safety still on. Keeping my eyes on that hand, I flicked the sword as a signal to keep going on. Yumi was a little unsure at first, but then she stiffly walked to the sides of Odd and Aelita.

After that, it was a complete stare down between me and my father. No words were exchanged, and it was so barren that I seriously considered tumbleweed to appear any second now. That was the only slightly sane thing that was running through my mind though.

Everything else was focused on the past. My recent past. Take like, the last two years. I know it’s awful to say it, but one emotion filled me while thinking of the past. One emotion and one only.

Fury.

All directed at one man. I’m not going to spell out who. Aelita must’ve sensed what was going on, because she began to stutter mangled sounds, unable to build up words. What could she say, anyways? There was no stopping me now.

Don’t bring a sword to a gunfight.

This isn’t a gunfight anymore.

I proved that as with a howling screech of unexplained rage split my lips, and the sword went spinning in the air. My father flinched and stepped back. He didn’t need to; I didn’t aim directly at him. The blade went screaming past his ear, landing sharp end down in the dirt not far off from him. Lukas was partially bent over to try and feebly protect himself. There was no protecting himself now.

My body moved without my brain’s consent. In fact, I think every last bit of my gray matter was shut down, as my body was now functioning on full hate-fuel. Animalistic instinct and anger burned my muscles, pumping to every last millimeter of me, not leaving a spot untouched of hate.

I bowled into Lukas, teeth bared and limbs flailing, tearing, clawing, kicking, and punching everywhere. It was half madness, but there was method in it as I struck his stomach, grabbed his gun hand tightly, bringing it up to the side of his face. My knee went into his abdomen, followed through with a vicious jab to the head. Before I knew it, the gun was pried from his hand by the barrel, and I stood back for half a second, allowing myself to dive in once more, brutally torpedoing him in such a way that the force of the impact drove us both down onto the ground. My dad’s head did a fancy whip lash from the ground, and I took no hesitation of his shock, pinning him down with straddled legs and a palm heel at the shoulder.

Somehow, somehow through the blind red mist that had settled over my eyes, somehow my hand had followed through with the gun, and I now held it at the trigger instead of the barrel, and suddenly the business end of the gun was cruelly dug into my father’s forehead, the bullet inside of it itching to be shot.