School Girls' Stories - Year 2
Danko's Confession
Fuji did not even notice that she was being dragged along, by the hand, by Amatsu. She did not notice that Danko and Devilin had to be helped up by Kyoei and the two other men that were accompanying the men that night. She was only aware of the bitter cold air against the skin that was not covered by Amatsu’s coat and the scrapes she had received on her way down to the ground that had been too minor to care about before.
They were almost to the parking lot where Amatsu’s green car sat awaiting them when Fuji pulled her hand from Amatsu’s swiftly, realizing what she was doing, and allowing her anger to take the best of her. She spun on Danko, who was spitting a spot of blood onto the ground, though she did not look as beat up as Fuji had expected. “Why did those men attack you?” Fuji yelled at the taller woman.
Danko barely looked surprised, her dark brown eyes flashing over Fuji’s aquamarine gems with little to no emotion, but Fuji saw it. Somewhere deep down Danko realized how wrong she had been at one point, and regret filled those eyes, for only a split second. “Let’s not talk about this now,” Danko said, the man supporting her weight stopping, not knowing what to do with her now that Fuji was picking an argument in the middle of the club parking lot.
“Why not?” Fuji asked. “It’s not like you are going to tell me another time. You are the master of deception and lies, now would be the only time I will get the truth out of you because you do not have enough time to spin a lie.”
“Is that what you think of me?” Danko yelled, moving away from the man supporting her weight. She stepped forward, her legs just as shaky as Fuji’s, if not more so, and with all of the pride she had left in her she glared down at Fuji. “I’m the one who saved your stupid ass back there as you nearly jumped into the fire.”
“Do not try to play yourself off to be a hero,” Fuji snapped. “If it was not for you we never would have been in danger. What did you do?”
“What did I do?” Danko nearly screamed. She stepped forward menacingly and Devilin, the worst of the three, stepped forward, trying to intervene between the two while Amatsu spun around and was grabbing Fuji, pulling her out of harms way, but Fuji knew Danko meant no harm. Her eyes were not full of hatred towards Fuji, they were full of loathing for those three men, for herself, but Fuji was not the one that ball of hatred was aimed at. To Danko, Fuji had been the angel standing in the light, and Danko had tried to possess that, and squash it all at once. “They are the ones!” For the first time that Fuji could ever remember Danko’s voice had tears clogging it. She could see them burning in her eyes. “Kago’s the one that had them rape me, because Nakago wanted me out of the way. I thought it would be great, to get back at Kaori, and Nakago, to have Kaori have sex with them too, but I didn’t know… I swear I didn’t know…”
Danko slid to the pavement without the support of the other man, and the other man did not know what to do. Even Devilin sort of stood dumbfounded while Fuji walked over to Danko and kneeled beside her, all feminine dignity and grace, the angel that Danko had first looked to. Not the angel of love or beauty, the angel of strength. Fuji had more than she was aware of, and Danko had needed that strength.
“What do they have, Danko?” Fuji asked softly.
Danko looked up to Fuji with eyes wide and full of tears. She whispered the answer, enough that only Fuji could hear it, and Fuji herself let a tear slide down her face in mourning for her friend. “Did Kaori contract it?”
Danko shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I mean… I did not even know until Kago had told me one night, a few nights before he died. Nakago, the bastard, had known, though. He had sent those men on me and he had known the whole time they had AIDS.”
Did Nakago know that? Fuji knew Nakago was twisted, but she could not see him doing something so obscene to his love’s best friend, no matter how twisted it was to have him get Kago to rape her. Yes, that was sick and destructive, but to know, on purpose, that they were going to give her AIDS.
“Did you… contract it?” Fuji asked tentatively.
No one was saying a thing. Five men and one woman stood on the sidelines, making a bit of a circle around Fuji and Danko, everyone collectively holding their breath at once. It only took Danko ten seconds to admit her answer, but that ten seconds was a lifetime. Devilin was suddenly breathing heavy, worried about the girl he had befriended as a child, and the answer came, “Yes,” and the group took a collective step back while Devilin nearly fell to his knees.
Fuji could not help herself, she watched the blood dripping from Danko’s open wounds and she stepped back, afraid to reach out, with so many scrapes on them both, the mingling of blood would be too risky. The man who had helped Danko across the parking lot was taking off his coat and throwing it to the ground, leaving it discarded. Danko watched this with tears in her eyes, and no one knew how to react any longer. She was not a different person, she was still the same old Danko, but now she was someone with a disease that was contagious, only through blood and mostly sexual bodily fluids, it has been said that kissing will not contract it, it would take nearly 8 – 10 gallons of saliva to contract it, but still contagious. Devilin’s head was turning about how close he had ever come to Danko within the last year or so, Fuji was trying not to think that hard.
“I’ll walk home,” Danko said, suddenly standing and turning her back on the group. “I know when I am not welcome.”
“Danko…” Fuji began to stand, to reach out to her, but three pairs of hands grabbed her and pulled her back. Devilin was one of them, Amatsu and Kyoei the others. At this time there was nothing more they could do for Danko but pray, and that would not save her from the life she was about to lead.
“Do you want me to take them home?” Kyoei was asking of Amatsu, who was still holding tight to Fuji, who had stopped struggling.
Devilin seemed less than thrilled with this question. “We aren’t children,” Devilin snapped, pulling Fuji from Amatsu’s grip. “We’ll walk, same way we got this far.”
Fuji was shaking her head into Devilin’s chest. “Accept the ride,” she said hoarsely. “You are in no condition to walk all of the way home from here.”
“I’ll take them home,” Amatsu said coldly. “Kyoei, will you make sure Shiira gets home all right?”
“Sure…” Kyoei said softly. He walked over to Shiira, guiding her towards his car, both of them throwing looks over their shoulders, both very different looks of concern. Amatsu guided the two younger teens towards his car, and both slid into the backseat unconsciously.
All was silent on the ride home. Devilin was bleeding all over the leather seats, while Fuji was using her shirt to dry to dab the wounds dry. He refused to go to the hospital, which Fuji suspected was a macho thing since Amatsu was there. Fuji was more perturbed than neither man was even attempting to speak, and what did she have to say? This night was not her fault, and Amatsu had been with another girl, what right did he have to be upset she was fawning over Devilin (hypocrite)? And Devilin was hurt and needed the attention more than anyone else at that particular point in time.
In front of the Chenbaro-Tennison manor Amatsu pulled up to the curb. Devilin grumbled a thanks and slid out, Fuji sliding behind him, but before she slid out of the car she turned to Amatsu and said, as sweetly as she could, “Thank you. If you and Kyoei had not shown up tonight-” before she finished Amatsu stepped out of the car and walked over to Devilin.
“You need help?” he asked him. Fuji’s heart plummeted, but she spent little time feeling sorry for herself while she could just be angry with Amatsu. Being angry at this point felt so much better.
“I’m fine,” Devilin grumbled, the bleeding mostly stopped. “Thanks.”
Amatsu watched Devilin walk up to the door of the manor. At the door Devilin turned around and gazed down the walkway at Fuji and Amatsu, who both stood awkwardly. Fuji shifted her shoulders out of Amatsu’s coat and held it out to him. Despite the bits of blood and dirt that clung to her the coat was pretty much clean, she could even still smell the sweet scent of her cologne on her skin, leftovers that had clung to the coat.
“Here,” she said, shoving it his way and making every move to walk passed him. He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him before she could protest. She could not believe the first thoughts to come to her mind were, “Don’t do anything stupid!”
“Are you all right?” he asked, holding her tight in his arms and keeping her near.
No, I am not all right! I just found out a friend is dying. I just watched you with Shiira. I just watched my current boyfriend be beaten senseless. I am tired and I hurt all over. I miss you. I don’t miss you. Why haven’t you even tried calling. “I’m fine,” she finally mumbled, pushing away from him and slowly walking away. She could not handle this today. She did not think she could handle this on any day.
“Fuji,” he called after her and for that long enough moment she hesitated.
She looked towards him, Devilin waiting in the doorway, Amatsu standing on the sidewalk. She did the only polite thing she could think of. She bowed slightly and said, “Good night, Amatsu,” and hurried into the house behind Devilin.