My Head Is A Jungle [Mariko/Shouhei]

The ride from Sunlake Palms to Seven Stars Academy was quiet.  At first Shouhei was adverse to letting Mariko ride on his motorcycle again, but he knew that he would never let harm come to her again; in fact he took the slowest and safest route as he could, especially since neither of them had helmets.  Thankfully she didn’t seem to mind- every stop sign and traffic light he would turn his head back to her, double check, and give a thumbs up to her.   Hopefully he wished that accident was a memory of hers never to surface ever again.

Speaking of which he had so many questions running through them during the silent trip.  How did she survive?  He personally attended her funeral service.  What happened to her memories?  He had seen her grip her head and cry out in pain; could it have been head trauma?  Perhaps that trauma related to the fact that she could she remember him, but not the love they shared.  What exactly did she remember regarding them both?  How and why did she get to America?

Who was that man she mentioned?  That was probably going to be the first clue regarding these mysteries.

Despite all those swarming questions, one thing Shouhei was certain about was that Mariko was alive.  He felt her cling to his back, felt her warmth, something he never thought he’d feel again.  Memories of similar night rides between the two of them overlapped and joined this current one.  His heart soared along as they traveled back to his dorms, and the trip was overall painless for him.

Once they arrived at his dorm, he completely forgot to close and lock his room in his haste.  While the insides looked relatively trashed and a mess, like someone had vandalized it, that was just its natural state.  Quickly Shouhei tried to defend himself, but his voice was a little lacking in shock or even sounded a tad bit convincing.

“...Ah, shit.  I left in such a hurry to see you and I didn’t lock or close the door to my dorm… some assholes musta trashed the place.”

The trip back from the flower garden had been quiet and uneventful for Shouhei. For Mariko, it had been quite the opposite. She didnt remember the crash innately. But the memory bubbled up as they rode, her arms tight around him and her eyes pinched shut against unsteadying visions. Yet even as she tried to hide from them, the feeling of flying and the sound of the world rushing past...brought back the Memory. For Shougei's sake, she kept any screams she might have felt from reaching him. Whenever he looked back, her face was a mask of empty peace. But inside she could feel the uneasiness. She could remember flying haphazardly through the wind, breaking on the ground as if she had been nothing more than a twig caught in a strong wind, easily broken on the rocks below.

She stumbled only once as she got off the bike, eons seemed to have passed and she was more thankful for solid ground than she had strength to Express. But it was only one of many hardships she could foresee on this journey of finding what she had lost. That much had become apparent.

The apartment was a mess, and it didnt take long for another Memory to trigger. This one had triggered earlier and she was expecting it, holding the door open in her mind like an old friend. Her mouth twisted fondly at the corners. "You forget I was here to plant the note. You've always been a slob, Shouhei. Do you mind if I get comfortable?" she asked, looking back at him with a vaguely concerned look. "Make sure the door is shut."

Like a child getting caught with their hand in a cookie jar, Shouhei knew he was at fault.  He hoped that also would have been one of the memories Mariko had forgotten about.  Sheepishly he closed the door behind them and firmly locked it.  

He put up a finger to his mouth in a deadpan response.  “...Shh, there could have been burglars here prior to you showing up.  You don't know.”


After saying that he threw his coat onto the ‘clothes pile,’ a designated spot that covered the entirety of a desk chair.  Shouhei turned to her and smiled, “...Of course.  My home is yours, just like it used to be.  Can I get ya somethin’ to drink?  Eat?”

Mariko stared at Shouhei, thinking for a minute that he was serious. And then, realizing it was a deadpan joke, she simply rolled her eyes. That was all the response she'd give his silliness. She shouldered off her jacket and tossed it onto the pile where he had tossed his, assuming that was where it "belonged" in his disorganized routine. The blouse she was wearing was white, and made of a thin material. As she turned to walk a few paces away from him, he would notice there was a hole in the back of it. Sucking in a deep breath she pulled the curtains closed on any window he had in the room before saying "Don't scream."

The skirt lifted up in the back, a snake-like tail slithering out of it. From her shoulder blades sprouted two bat-like wings, and horns parted her hair on either side of her head. Her hair shortened, and became a little lighter, and while her face was basically the same as it would have been otherwise, he would feel that if he didn't already know it was Mariko, he'd have trouble noticing it was her. That was the supernatural effect of changing appearance, after all.

While he heeded her advice on not screaming, his jaw simply dropped as he stared in awe.  Reflexively, without him even realizing, shards of crimson light instantly formed about his arms, as Take-Minekata appeared in self-defense.  That demonic, or rather draconic, appearance of hers had self-consciously triggered Shouhei to bring up his Demon Arms in response.  However deep down he knew that Mariko would never hurt him, no matter what form she took, and her casual slide into conversation only reinforced that fact.

Shouhei had seen a minotaur woman in his Awakening, and now the love of his life was brought back to him as a dragon woman.  Hell, right now his arms were that of a demon’s.  Things were strange but they couldn’t get stranger.  It was also starting to make sense as to how she could have possibly survived that accident, let alone had problems with her memory… in the end Mariko was still alive and here with him, and even if she had a new form it didn’t matter to him.

“...Get as comfortable as ya like,” Shouhei said in relaxed response as he headed to his kitchenette area.  After popping open the fridge he noticed the lack of food and drink, grimaced at his forgetfulness, and grabbed two bottles of beer.  As he walked up to Mariko he used the clawed fingertip of Take-Minekata to shear off the the tops of the beer bottles, and handed her one with a bashful grin.  “Sorry, this was all that was left in the fridge.  I know I could use one, but I think there might be some tea or coffee left if you’d prefer that.”

He pointed an armored pinky with his beer holding hand as he took a sip, talking out the side of his mouth.  “Also… those wings actually work?”

Mariko turned over her shoulder and watched him as he walked. A small smile formed when he'd reacted with open mouthed surprise that hadn't quite gone away yet. It was an endearing look. The way his demon arms came out was interesting. She had to admit she had tensed a little when that happened. She'd known about them, of course, though after the experiment and Shouhei had unexpectedly fled, they weren't able to keep observing him, so she hadn't known if they had revealed themselves or not. This was a good way of finding out.

Now, she supposed, as she accepted the bottle from Shouhei and sniffed it's contents visibly, it was time to start unravelling their joint mystery. And at the moment, she had more to explain than he did. Afterall, he couldn't quite help her put the pieces together if she didn't lay them out for him.

"Yes they do, in a limited capacity." She answered quickly, shying away from him just a little and sitting in a nearby pile of clean or dirty clothes. She couldn't really tell..or care. Her tail curled around her folded legs, the tip absently flicked softly at a folded sleeve that protruded from the pile. "I wonder if you remember where you got those arms." She motioned to his arms before taking a drink of the beer. It was bitter, but not awful. She'd tasted worse things. "My current form is...an unexpected byproduct of similar experiments."

This would be an instance of Shouhei spitting out his beer, but he didn’t want to waste it or douse Mariko, so he kind of awkwardly choked on his drink and coughed a bit.  “...Experiments?  You’re sayin’ we’re both a buncha guinea pigs?!  And uhh… I never knew about my arms until they just… appeared on me a couple’a nights ago when some demons tried to jump me.  I remember you mentionin’ some dude I never heard about.  He have somethin’ to do with this?”

Mariko Paused. She had been told that Shouhei had a purpose in their group. She'd assumed that meant he had fled, but that at some point he was a member and privy to all of this information. She hadn't asked...hadn't been aware enough to do that. She'd spent so long only half-alive. She followed directives and performed her duties without much concern. It had only been recently that her mind had really began to grasp what she was doing.

And now she was trying to retrace her steps more carefully. She found it to be...difficult. Mariko took a deep, deep breath, looked directly at Shouhei with serious, contemplative eyes as if she were picking him apart. Then she breathed out, and tipped the bear back, downing it's contents. The but of the bottle knocked against one of her horns as it bobbed with her gulps.

It sent a buzz through her body and lifted some of the weight off of her shoulders. Her body visibly relaxed and her cheeks were a little flushed. This was better. "Yes. They were keeping you under observation until your abilities manifested themselves. Apparently, they weren't privy to your reasons for leaving the country. I think...it might have happened after that accident. I didn't remember it really until I was riding on your motorbike with you. But...now I do. I'm pretty sure there was no way I could have survived otherwise. You either. It was...A Yakuza family. Your father had belonged to them previously, or so I've been told. I always assumed you were a member too. Though I honestly..." She trailed off, passing the bottle nervously from one hand to the other.

"The first thing I remember with any real clarity is waking up like this. Everything before that comes in flashes, brought on by things that should be familiar. Like the bike ride, or the..." she vaguely gestured at the record player. "The song thing...They come and go and I can't ever tell the order, or hold them down for long." She pressed a hand to her temple. She needed another beer. "It's like trying to catch bees with my bare hands...And even when I manage it, they sting."

As if reading her mind Shouhei had already gone back to the kitchen to grab Mariko another drink.  The dorm was small enough for him to listen intently to what she had said, as he came back to seeing her gesture towards the record player.

“...Yeah, my mom told me my piece of shit dad was a low ranking member of the Yakuza and that he went to jail for it- I don’t want a goddamn thing to do with him...  who knew that fucker would still be ruinin’ my life to this day.  And if ya don’t remember, the reason I’m here in America is ‘cause I got a scholarship to the Academy here.  You and me… we sent out apps to a buncha places for singin’ scholarships.  This was the only one that answered mine.”  Shouhei told his side of the story as he thrust a new bottle of beer towards Mariko.  

“...Speakin’ of memories, I’ll do my damnedest to help you get yours back.  And even if that don’t work, I’m gonna make new and better ones with you.”

Mariko was grateful receiving the beer from the boy. She tossed the other next to her into the pile of clothes and raised the fingers of her right hand. Scales seemed to ripple over her hand, ending in long claws, which she used to pry off the bottle's top effortlessly. She tipped back the bottle and took a big sip, listening, trying to think.

the talk about scholarships triggered something. Her whole body froze. "I got accepted to the same school. And a couple others. I was so excited. I was going to tell you but then-" Tires screeched in her head, and she nearly dropped her bottle of beer, tail rising up to catch it deftly as she massaged her temples. "I was going to go to Seven Stars with you..." She said softly, looking up at him. The flush on her cheeks was brighter now. It wasn't all from the beer. Beer didn't effect her all that much.

Shouhei dropped to a squat so that he was eye level with Mariko.   A wide smile split his features as he gently clinked his bottle against hers.  “...What's stoppin' ya from attending now.  Cheers.”

The way he looked at her...she didn't deserve that affection and attention. What's more, she wasn't sure it was really directed at her. She couldn't know if she really was this person he claimed he remembered, beyond her own scattered memories. Was the person in this body really the person he wanted so badly to be there? Their bottles clinked and she looked up at him. "I kill for them. It's all I've had - all I've known since I woke up. The reason I came to Endymion was because I was ordered to kill you, Shouhei. Do you really think someone like that should be allowed around others? I'm dangerous, and I do not deny it," she said simply, leaning back away from him only a little. Her tail curled a little closer around her, displacing clothes as it did so.

“...Fact of the matter is ya didn’t kill me.  And since your memories are all messed up I’m wagerin’ a guess it’s hard to know who ya really are.  Those fuckers just took advantage of ya like that.  And even if you’re dangerous…” he moved in closer despite her backing away, his eyes staring directly into hers.

“I’m gonna be here for you.  Like you were always there for me.  I’ll make sure the only people you kill are the ones that deserve it- like those Yakuza that used us like fuckin’ lab rats.  So stay with me.  Please.  Don’t leave me again, Mariko.”

Mariko withdrew as he came in closer, saying it was fine because she didn't kill him. How was that fine, exactly? It brought a flare of something familiar to her throat, and she let it out along with a small puff of smoke. "I just said I came to kill you, and you're--"

She cut off as he finished his sentence, and continued. He wanted her to stay with him? even though she was broken and dangerous. A monster. It was there again, as he stared into her eyes. He was so close, and he wanted something. What was it? What did he want from her? What was she supposed to give him? What did she even have? She had nothing. Nothing to offer to this full gaze.

So she averted her eyes. "Well it isn't as though I have anywhere else to go. So I'll stay here, for now, I suppose. {please pardon my intrusion.}" The last part was tacked on softly at the end, a whisper of a more courteous girl she'd been what must have been ages ago. If he stayed there hovering over her much longer, she push him away with her clawed hand that wasn't holding the drink, making small tears in his shirt. She tipped the bottle into her mouth. When she brought it back down again, she said "Don't get...{touchy or anything.}" pointing at him with a clawed finger, and blushing slightly.

Note:

“Ah… {My fault},” Shouhei backed off, noticing the tears from her claws, but they didn’t puncture the skin.  While the old Mariko wouldn’t have minded him being so close and intimate, he ultimately realized that she wasn’t the same Mariko he knew before.  

“...Then it’s settled.  Use my bed, I’ll crash on the couch here,” he flopped backwards onto the sofa, displacing a bunch of randomly strewn items on it as they tumbled to the floor.  “And consider takin’ advantage of that scholarship of yours... after all you taught me to never let opportunity pass by.”