babyviper

A month had nearly passed and O-Ren Ishii was no closer to figuring out what had happened to her than when she had kissed Arya for the second time.

A year ago, she could have said with absolute certainty that she would never have these problems. The very idea of letting anyone touch her had filled her with a cold sickness-- and now she wanted it? It was spreading, too. Kissing Arya had been more than just a one-off. She regularly let her adoptive hut-family touch her arm or shoulder, or give her the rare hug.

I'm melting, she thought, out of nowhere, as she sat on a rock at the beach, staring out at the ocean. I let myself freeze, and now I'm melting. Even as the thought took shape in her head, she could feel that her spine was no longer as stiff as it had been.

She could be somewhat comforted by the way her head naturally snapped to the side as someone approached, though her thoughts kept her far away.

Chapter 1:
The Empty Room in Osaka

Apartment 217, in a nondescript block of an apartment building on the outskirts of downtown Osaka, Japan.

Laying on a bare floor, a clunky mobile phone began to ring. Despite the amount of money such a phone would cost in the late part of the eighties, before the big rush really began, it wasn't even the most expensive item in the room. The real treasures in this tiny, bare apartment had to do with what was in the closet, which bore a simple combination lock.

The ringing seeped into O-Ren's consciousness even as she struggled to wake up. How late had she been out last night? That wasn't like her, and surely Angua and Dean would have had questions. Was she sick, then? Why the heavy haze around her? The fucking ringing was beginning to wear itself out, too.

O-Ren snapped up from her futon so quickly that she had to brace against the window. She was no longer even a bit sleepy, so aware she couldn't keep her hands from shaking as she patted herself down. Same self that had gone to bed the night before.

But a look around confirmed this was her old apartment. Only a few pots to boil ramen in. Blood spots she'd never bothered to clean up. Locked closet. Mobile phone ringing on the ground. She'd cut the regular telephone line herself, preferring this.

It stopped ringing, and O-Ren took a deep breath. "What the fuck."

So many things to say, and O-Ren hadn't any idea how to begin to express them all!

She frowned, smoothing her dress out again and again as she waited for Angua to join her. In accordance with how she thought Mama might have done things, she'd set up a special tea table with two cups and she'd cut a sprig from that cherry blossom tree by her old house.

It wasn't like she was afraid of Angua's response-- no. No, she was. It wouldn't do to go about with fake bravado, not like she had been.

O-Ren let out a long, soft breath, and waited.

Where her father was, O-Ren Ishii didn't know.

She stood at the edge of Zama-- she'd been so surprised to find it was an ocean town, she hadn't remembered that-- with her sword in her hand. Though there was blood on her, it wasn't hers. Nor did it belong to any one person. O-Ren had needed to battle several of Matsumoto's henchmen to get here. The gods must have been smiling on her, because she had been able to go back in time and find her mother.

Get her out before dirty hands could touch her. (If Matsumoto showed his face here, she'd cut it off....)

O-Ren turned back to look at her mother. Mama wasn't doing so well, but if her daddy would just show up... then it would be okay again. "Daijoubou, Mama," she said, knowing her mother preferred Japanese.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd allowed herself to sleep in the presence of another living, breathing person. It had been hard to fall asleep, imagining she could hear a pulse in the room that wasn't her own. That there was an open patch in her new home's room helped; she could see the stars.

O-Ren closed her eyes and let a day of labor catch up to her. She fell asleep, her swords within arm's reach.

She dreamed, and everything was burning. Her face was wet and sticky with her mother's coagulating blood. Sirens in the night, and O-Ren crawled under a neighbor's car. They couldn't find her. She couldn't let herself be sent away. Matsumoto might find her and finish the job.

She had work to do, too, that these people could never understand.

The dream-world spun and she was underneath Matsumoto, clenching her jaw as he groped with hard, experienced fingers. He turned her over, onto her stomach and she didn't train for this, how could she have been ready for this moment? When she turned her head, the Man in White sat watching, drinking. Even as the pain coursed through her veins, he watched, and laughed.

He drew his sword, stepped across the floor in time to the pig's grunts. He lifted the blade and the tip raced towards her eye--

--and she screamed, one of the very things she'd sworn never to do, and she couldn't stop screaming, gulping for fresh air.