Ascalon
I wake with a start from a nightmare I know far too intimately. Do you know what the worst kinds of nightmares are? The ones you’ve lived through. Not often, but sometimes, my subconscious decides to mess with me and play the same tired routine.
The ringing in my ears, the twisted metal, the indescribable pain of flesh and sinew being torn from my thighs… And the laughter of the face in the inferno. A beast formed of flame and shrapnel and
hate. All images cooked up by my mind just to mess with me and designed to frighten me. It doesn’t. Sure, I have the expected visceral reaction but I know that it’s just my imagination.
It can piss right off, as far I’m concerned.
I don’t actually remember any of that happening. I remember someone shouting, then an explosion and the next thing I remember after that is my hospital room. Waking up without legs is a…
traumatic experience to say the least. Those first six months were the worst. No matter who you are, you’re going to pull a Kübler-Ross and I did too. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. I received my new legs somewhere between bargaining and depression. Coming here was the final part of acceptance.
I slide to the edge of my bed and begin my morning routine. Fresh underwear goes on first, followed by my legs. I’m still a little unstable on them. Doesn’t help that I’m naturally uncoordinated. The flipside to my mental acumen. Clever brain, rubbish motor skills.
I make my trip to the shower and, thanks to the earliness of the hour, I get to wash in peace. I return to my room refreshed and, after towelling off, put on my uniform. I brush my onyx hair with great care. Twin-tail braids in place, I finish the look with two red hair clips.
Looking good, Molls!
My alarm finally goes off and I’m already ready for the day.
Heehee, suck it. I grab my secret stash of cereal before heading down to the common room. I don’t know how the Japanese eat rice for breakfast and that’s coming from someone with Indian heritage. Still, at least they do sell cereal here, I can’t imagine what it would cost my Mum to ship me Crunchy Nut Cornflakes every month.
I enter the common room and wave at the sole occupant, Emi Ibarazaki.
“Good morning, Molly!” She cheerily announces as she’s cleaning her plates away. She’s got her blades on so she’s either heading out or coming back.
“Morning, Emi. Just heading out?” I ask, placing my cereal box on the sideboard. She giggles and shake her head.
“Nope, already got my run in this morning! No rest for the wicked, eh?” She playfully winks and I nod, flicking the switch for the kettle.
“Not for us at least. I was already dressed before my alarm went off!” Though I was rudely awoken by a bad dream rather than out of habit.
“Bad dream?” Her face turns curious and I simply shrug.
“Nah, not really.” I smile reassuringly and she bounces on her blades happily.
“Phew! That’s good then! Sorry to hit and run but I gotta get showered and changed. Catch you later, Molly!” The excitable fleet-foot making a rapid exit with a cheerful wave.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
I slip my arms into my bag’s straps and settle it on my back.
What new adventure will today bring?
I skip out into the main grounds and breath in the fresh air. It’s beautiful here. One of the main reasons I chose this place over the multitude of specialist schools my parents offered was the campus. Plus I got to learn a new language and meet people just like me. New experiences abound.
“You look far too cheery for this time in the morning.” A sleepy Akio calls out.
“If you didn’t spend your Friday nights {shagging}, you’d probably be more awake!” I stick my tongue out at the grump.
Morning is the best time! It has cereal. And cartoons!
“I don’t know what that means but I’ll assume it’s lewd. Hana, do
you know what it means?” He asks with a smile, turning his attention over my shoulder. Bugger, I hope Hanako didn’t hear tha-- I look over my shoulder and Hanako is nowhere in sight.
“Got you.” He smirks.
“{Ghuṇḍī sira}!” I scowl and bop him on the arm, cursing him in Hindi.
“Alright,
Ritsu. I was just joking.” He chuckles and I flinch internally at the name. After her tirade during the summer holidays, I’ve been a little wary of her. We made up, sure, but it’s not a pleasant memory.
“Waiting for Hana?” I quickly change the subject.
“Part of the Boyfriend/Girlfriend agreement. I’m contractually obligated to walk her to class.” He shrugs and I giggle. He might be an arsehole but he’s funny on occasion.
“So where’s Taro? Isn’t he going to pick up Ritsu?” I look around and find no trace of Akio’s portly partner.
“You don’t know? Ritsu breaks into his room every morning. I believe those two are the ones you should worry about sha-gingu, as you would say.”
Not quite but not bad for a first-timer. Wait, what did he say?
“Y-you mean she…?” I ask with a blush, which is a mistake around Akio because he will take advantage of
any slither of embarrassment.
Luckily, I’m saved by a raven-haired class-mate. “Stop picking on her, Akio or so help me…” She narrows her eyes at the red-headed trickster who shrugs.
“Morning, Hana. I don’t know how you put up with him…” I say with mock exasperation. She plants a kiss on his cheek and grabs his free hand.
“He has his good points…” She says, dreamily looking into his eyes.
“One point in particular.” He says smugly, only to be cut down by a derisively mocking glare from Hanako. “
Damn, you‘re getting good at that…”
“I had a good teacher.” Hanako giggles and plants another kiss on his cheek.
God, I can’t stand all this cuteness. I don’t want to say I’m jealous but their playful sniping is really endearing.
“Are we going to go, or shall we wait for Ikuno come test me for diabetes?” We laugh and start the trek towards class.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
The half-day of classes passes in a flash and the class sighs in unison, much to Mr. Mutou’s chagrin. I stretch out my back by leaning backwards against my chair, ending up looking past Hisao’s hastily vacated desk at Taro and Ritsu. I grin when they notice me and they signal me over.
“Hey, what’re you guys up to?” I smile, sitting in Hisao’s chair.
“Not a lot really. We were probably going to go for a drink at the Shanghai and maybe pick up some snacks. Want to come along?”
“Sure, I’ve got nothing on. What about Hanakio?” I gesture to the couple chatting to the Newspaper Club’s other double-team.
“Looks like they’ll be busy.” Taro shrugs, looking back at me.
“Where’d ‘
Hanakio’ come from?” Ritsu giggles a little.
“Don’t you lot do that? Combine a couple’s names to refer to them as a unit?” I explain, stroking my left braid as I do. I don’t know if the Japanese have the concept of shipping. Taro and Ritsu share a slight smirk with each other.
“Tarits.” Taro offers.
“Ritsuro.” Ritsu counters.
“I think Ritsuro is the winner…” I nod to Ritsu and she grins widely.
“In your face!” She taunts, poking his face for emphasis. He grabs her wrist and gives her a quick peck on the lips.
“In
your face.” Okay, this is going to get x-rated pretty quick if I don’t step in.
“S-so… Shanghai?”
-------------------------------------------------------------------
“I’ll take a Molly Special too.” Taro interjects, much to both Ritsu and mine’s surprise. Yuuko dutifully notes the order and disappears with a bow.
“You can’t just…
Steal my drink!” I laugh with an incredulous expression.
“What? I’ve grown quite fond of it.” Taro smiles and Ritsu shakes her head.
“He really has. It’s replaced coffee as his afternoon drink…” She explains with a raised brow.
“Don’t act like you haven’t been sneaking gulps when I haven’t been looking.” Taro narrows his eyes. “Besides, it’s actually helping me sleep a bit better.”
“Is that because of your usual coffee intake or…?” I ask innocently.
“I’ve been having some weird nightmares recently…” Taro begins his long explanation of some of his nightmares. Ritsu looks uncomfortable at some points. Understandable, given the nature of some of Taro’s nightmares.
“Do any of them repeat themselves?” I ask, empathising with his plight.
“Um, yeah, the school fire one. Not often and sometimes different but with a lot of the same elements.”
“Hmmm, I have a similar thing. Less dripping with symbolism though and more my imagination creating the events I wasn’t conscious for when I lost my legs.” I calmly explain, clasping my hands together as I rest my elbows in the table.
“Miss Tsunemori thinks it might be my subconscious rationalising the events since I have no real memory of them. Except with a dragon-like monster instead of a suicide bomber.” I shrug, it's a good explanation. Taro tilts his head in thought and rustles in his bag for his sketchbook, leaning it against edge of the table.
“And does it bother you?” Ritsu asks, tentatively.
“Not especially. It’s not real after all. It
annoys me more than anything. I’ve been studying psychology a lot since they started, talking frequently with Miss Tsunemori about it. It’s quite a fascinating subject.” I don’t know when I started having an air of authority on the matter but it feels good.
“So you want to study psychology once you graduate?” A smile creeps across her face as she glances at Taro sketching. Something’s clearly amusing her on the page.
I hope it isn’t a nerdy caricature of me…
“I’ve been thinking about it but, c’mon, an Indian doctor? That’s pretty cliché…” I offer a little self-deprecation as I stroke my left braid. “What about you guys?”
Ritsu ponders the question as Taro feverishly sketches away. It’s pretty clear what he’ll probably do. Some form of graphic designer or maybe even a comic artist. He’s certainly got the talent for it.
“I’ve always wanted to be a musician but with the CT, that can be hard sometimes.” Ritsu admits, raising her arms, showing off the spandex sleeves she only wears outside of school.
“Can you play anything?” I ask. I can’t recall her ever talking about it before.
“I can keep a decent rhythm on the drums and I’m pretty good on the piano on my really good days. I was taught a lot about music by my Dad so maybe I could be a music teacher.” She smiles a little wistfully. Taro takes a little break, leaning in to kiss Ritsu on the cheek with a reassuring smile and to drink his rapidly cooling tea.
“{What’s the thing knights use in a joust}?” He suddenly asks in English, taking me by surprise.
“{Um, a lance}.” I respond in kind with the correct answer. He smirks and nods to me in thanks before taking up his mechanical pencil once more, making long strokes with it.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Dinner is rapidly approaching and we’re still in the Shanghai. My butt’s asleep and the conversation has died down. I rest my head on my arms, content that the napping Ritsu and the busy Taro won’t mind. Just as my eyes flitter closed…
“Done!” Taro beams proudly, startling Ritsu.
“Whu?
Already?” She rubs her eyes and peers at the pad as Taro nods enthusiastically.
“What’s done?” I ask, furrowing my brow.
Taro turns his sketchbook and slides it towards me. “I present…
{Excalibur}!”
Bugger me… It’s…
Me. Clad in elaborate armour and a cape, wielding an ornate lance with a cocky smile.
“
{This is brilliant, Taro}…” I mutter quietly in my default language as I’m completely enraptured by the detailed sketch. I can’t believe he knocked this out in an hour and change.
“After you mentioned a dragon monster, I kind of had a spark of inspiration. Excalibur is England’s legendary weapon, right?” He smiles warmly.
“Um, yeah but it’s actually a
sword…” I revert back to Japanese to explain with a small giggle, Taro looking a little crest fallen by his honest mistake.
“But,” I hastily add. “You’re on kind of the right track. In England, we have a day for a mythical hero called {Saint George}, who was a renowned dragon-slayer.
He used a lance!” I smile and he perks up to no end.
“Does his lance have a name?” Ritsu asks and I nod with a huge smile.
“
{Ascalon}.”
“I guess that’s the name then.
Ascalon the Dragon-Slayer.” Taro declares with a triumphant smirk.
Ritsu, you’re a lucky, lucky girl.
I heave myself out of the booth and gesture for Taro to stand up and he obliges.
“I apologise in advance, Ritsu.” I bow to his girlfriend before stretching my body up to kiss Taro on the cheek.
“Thanks, Taro. It’s a brilliant picture.” I blush, stroking my left braid once more.
“Um, you’re welcome.” Taro chuckles nervously. Ritsu lets out a slightly annoyed sigh and slides out of the booth.
“Just this
once, Molls. But, for the record, this adorkable chunk of talent is
mine.” She purrs and holds Taro’s face in her hands before planting a deep, passionate kiss on his lips. Duly noted, you bloody
yandere…
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite Ritsu’s awkward power play, we head back to Yamaku in high spirits. We separate as Ritsu drags Taro towards the girls’ dorm. Three guesses what she has in mind and the first two don’t count. I don’t know why she thinks she has to be so possessive about Taro, I’m not interested in him. I hold the sketch in my hands and smile broadly.
I take a step forward and feel the sudden impact of a human body. I'm such a bloody klutz. I shake my head and apologise profusely to the boy leaning down to pick up Taro's sketch. He stands and he is TALL. Dirty blonde hair, the rarely seen Yamaku jumper and soft blue eyes.
Hell-Oh!
He smiles warmly and passes the sketch back to me before quickly signing what I assume is an apology. He gives a small wave and continues on his way.
Who are you, my tall friend with the cute butt? I raise an eyebrow with a devilish smirk as I watch him walk away.
Oh yeah, I will rock your world. 'Cause I'm a dragon-slayer girl.
