Nightmare Fighter Yumeko


Chapter 3: Strange Flower


* * * * *

Yumeko levelled her nastiest grin at a science assignment while her radio 
blared out what passed for hard rock in Japan. For the first time in three 
months, she was doing her homework. She didn't really want to think about why 
she was doing it, but instead forced herself to concentrate on the molecular 
structure of various organic compounds. The trouble was, the questions weren't 
spectacularly challenging, and she kept thinking of... other things. Like 
Seiji, and the expression on his face when she'd summoned the darkness and... 
when he'd died. Yumeko shook her head, hard, and focused on the next question. 
"What is the difference between methyl and ethyl alcohol?" she repeated out 
loud. She twirled her pen and wrote, slowly and deliberately; 'One tastes 
good. You moron.' Hiro... another face that kept intruding. He'd been 
horrified when she claimed her new identity. It made her feel... a little 
uneasy. With a supreme effort of will, Yumeko threw herself back into the 
assignment "Please outline two methods of testing the difference between a 
ketone and an amide." Oh, please! Could they make this any easier?

The music from the radio was replaced with the distinctive chimes of the 
evening news. "Good evening. This is Masahiro Matsuoka. Headlines tonight; The 
yen rises against the US dollar. The mysterious disappearance of college 
student Sakurobi Seiji still baffles police. And reports of a Yakuza- *click!*

It didn't matter. Just because it was on the news didn't mean it mattered. And 
there was no way they could know who had done it. Even if there had been a 
body to find, they wouldn't have been able to trace it to her. She hoped.

The phone rang, and she started, then relaxed. It was probably one of 
Shinichi's irritating little friends. The brat could get the phone himself.

"Oneesan! It's for you!"

... or it could be someone else.

Steeling herself, Yumeko took the phone from her brother and lifted it to her 
mouth. "Hello?" she asked, her voice trembling only slightly. She sneaked a 
glance out the window, but couldn't spot any SWAT teams. Of course, she 
wouldn't be able to see them anyway...

"Yumeko-chan? It's Misako. Are you okay?" The girl's voice was concerned.

"Misako!" Yumeko let out a sigh of relief, only then realising that she'd been 
holding her breath. "Uh... I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well... at school today, you seemed kinda... spacey. It's not those girls, is 
it?"

"Seiko and her little flunkies? No way!" Yumeko grimaced; fantastic, she'd 
just lost her only excuse for her strange behaviour. "Um, I mean... I was just 
a bit stressed over school."

Misako laughed. "You!" she snorted. "If *you're* worried, I may as well go 
throw myself under a train right now. I just spent two hours slaving at 
Hirouchi sensei's stupid science assignment and I still left a quarter of the 
questions unanswered. You couldn't give me a hand, could you?"

Yumeko smiled. "Yeah, sure, no problem. Hey, Misako..."

"Yeah?"

"When was the last time we went shopping together?"

There was a pause. "We were twelve," Misako answered finally. "And you laughed 
at me for buying so much Sailor Moon stuff and I hit you over the head with 
the Crescent Moon Wand."

Yumeko grinned, remembering. "Yeah... it's a long time. Wanna go tonight?"

"What, now?"

"Yeah! I'll meet you at Ikebukuro East in 20 minutes!"

"Um. Well, sure. If you promise to come to my place after and help me study."

"It's a deal! See you soon." Yumeko hung up, and ran down the stairs, 
congratuating herself on distracting Misako so easily. "Shinichi, I'm going 
shopping in Ikebukuro!" she yelled. "Tape Psychometer Eiji for me!"

Shinichi appeared in the kitchen doorway, a few grains of rice around his 
mouth. He nodded.

Yumeko sighed, and reached out and rubbed at his face with her coat sleeve. 
"And do your homework," she advised.

Shinichi nodded again, his face splitting into a wide grin. "Okay, oneechan!"

His sister grinned at him, and slipped on her shoes. "And don't stay up too 
late!" she called as she closed the door.
"Okay, oneechan!"

"And don't worry about making your lunch for tomorrow, I'll... oh shit! I'm 
late!"

* * * * *

Misako stared unseeing into the dark tunnel outside the carriage window. She 
was not, to her endless despair, a straight A student, but she was by no means 
stupid. Something was obviously bothering Yumeko. She'd gone through the whole 
day on automatic, barely talking to Misako or Keiji at all, and only in 
monosyllables when she did. It had been... strange. Even stranger - in fact, 
practically unheard of - Yumeko had actually given serious answers when called 
on in class, instead of her usual smart-alec replies. Something was definitely 
wrong. And as her best friend, it was Misako's job to find out what it was! 
It coudn't be Seiko and company, she reasoned. Seiko had been bugging Yumeko 
(and herself) for a long time, but she'd never worried about it. And as for it 
being school... Misako snorted. That was a weak excuse if ever she'd heard 
one. Besides, this strange behaviour was very recent... Just after going to 
see Evangelion, in fact. And meeting that guy Tsugi at the bar... Maybe that 
was it! Maybe Yumeko had a crush on Tsugi and- Misako shook her head. Now she 
was taking things too far.

She looked around at her fellow passengers, and grimaced. Misako hated rush 
hour. Everyone was crammed into carriages like sheep in slaughter-trucks. Even 
in winter, the heat of the clustered bodies was stifling and the air stale. 
And in the summer, the humidity was so bad that you actually peeled away from 
people when you tried to leave. A slight movement caught her eye, and she 
turned her head to stare at the salaryman standing next to her. This was 
another reason she hated rush hour. The crowded conditions made it so much 
easier for creeps looking to get their jollies.

The man leered at her, and none-too-subtly moved his body against hers. She 
felt the hand on her butt and didn't even have to think about it.

*crack*

"Well, I'll be!" Misako remarked loudly. "I always thought it was a myth that 
perverts got nosebleeds. Guess I was wrong!" She smirked at the shocked 
businessman nursing his broken nose and noticed with satisfaction that several 
other men in the compartment had paled. It was a shame she couldn't stay to 
enjoy this, but her stop was next...

As she left, she blew a kiss to the pervert.

* * * * *

Keiji hesitated, then picked up the phone and dialled. 'She's a friend of 
yours and she's acting weird,' he told himself as it rang. 'Get a grip.'

"Hello?" a young boy answered, his voice hesitant.

Keiji deflated a little. He'd hoped to get Yumeko straight away. "Uh, hello. 
Is this Shinichi?"

"Yes."

"This is a Keiji, a school friend of Yumeko's. Is she there?"

"No. Oneesan went shopping."

"Oh. Um... did she tell you where she was going?"

"Yes."

Keiji waited patiently for a while. "Where did she go?" he prompted finally.

"Oh! Ikebukuro."

Keiji cursed silently. Ikebukuro was huge, he'd never find her. Although... 
that bar she liked was in Ikebukuro. Maybe he could look there.

Emboldened by the silence from the other end of the line, Shinichi spoke 
again. "I taped Psychometer Eiji for her," he said proudly. "And I did all my 
homework, too."

"Uh... that's really great, Shinichi-kun. Hey, when your sister gets home, 
please tell her that I rang, okay?"

"Oneesan told me 'Don't stay up too late'," the boy replied, obviously 
worried.

"Oh. Please write her a note then?"

"Okay!"

"Thank you, Shinichi-kun. Good night."

"Good night, Keiji-san!" Shinichi replied happily.

Keiji hung up and went to get his coat. 'I'm just checking the bar,' he 
thought firmly. 'Just the bar, and if she's not there I'll come home straight 
away."

* * * * *

"...and then he kills her! Does this scarf look good?"

"It's pretty nice, but I think you need a darker blue. His own sister?"

Misako looked at the scarves on display and shook her head thoughtfully. 
"Darker? I don't know..." She tossed a wink at the hunky sales assistant 
hovering over her shoulder. "We'll come back!" she promised, shamelessly 
turning on her sunniest smile.

"Will we?" Yumeko asked, as they walked out the door and into the night.

"I don't know." Misako grinned. "Maybe the goods on display at the next store 
would look better on me..."

Yumeko laughed. "Anyway, he kills his sister," she prompted.

"Uh-huh! You *have* to see the artwork for that one, it's fantastic! And then 
the hero guy does his standard 'nooooooo!!!!' and that's where the manga 
ends."

"Yeah, it's a rule," Yumeko agreed. "The hero has to do that."

"Oh, but we haven't got to the good bit! At the beginning of the next manga 
it's the same scene - but then her eyes open!" Misako's own eyes were wide 
with remembered excitement, and her voice rose a little in volume. "It's soooo 
cool!"

Yumeko stopped. "What? She's dead, right?"

"Oh yeah, good and dead. Blood everywhere." Misako replied, obviously 
relishing the moment. "It turns out her body's been taken over by a Dreamer! 
Yumeko? Is something wrong?"

Yumeko started. "What? No."

Misako shrugged. "Oh, you just looked strange for a second. Anyway, it turns 
out that as well as being able to manipulate dreams and the dream world, 
Dreamers can also control the bodies of the recently dead. Now, because this 
Dreamer met her before, he decided to-"

Misako's voice abruptly cut off. Startled, Yumeko turned to look at her... but 
she'd disappeared, along with the entire street. In its place was the 
downstairs hallway of Yumeko's house. What the...

With a sickening thud in the pit of her stomach, Yumeko recognised what was 
happening. She was dreaming. A very familiar, very unwelcome dream. 'Wake up,' 
she told herself silently. Nothing happened. 'It's a dream, you know you're 
dreaming, wake up!' The bare hallway in front of her suddenly flickered, then 
steadied, this time filled with people. Yumeko pinched herself savagely, 
trying to hurt herself enough to wake, or at least begin a new dream. But the 
figures in the hallway were already moving, and she despaired, knowing it was 
too late. She would have to see the whole thing again.

There was her mother, suitcase in hand, slipping on her shoes in the entrance 
hall. There was her father, hand raised and face ugly with rage. There was 
Shinichi, sitting on the stairs, mouth open and eyes confused. And there was 
her. Yumeko the younger.

"Okaasan!"

"I'm sorry, Yumeko-chan. Be good."

The small girl clutched at her mother's coat, and held it fast.

"I won't let you go! You have to stay here with me!"

The woman's eyes clouded over with unshed tears as she looked at her daughter, 
and for a brief second Yumeko hoped. But then; "I can't, Yumeko-chan," she 
said softly, her voice a tangle of emotions that Yumeko was too young to 
comprehend. "You don't understand yet, but I think you will one day soon."

"Then take me with you," Yumeko begged. "Okaasan! Please, take me too!"

"That's enough, Natsukashii," a hated voice growled. "If you leave you will 
never see these kids again. You know that. No court will grant access to a 
mother who deserts her children."

Natsukashii slipped out of the coat Yumeko still held and slipped it around 
the girl's shoulders. "Keep it, in memory," she whispered. Then she 
straightened and her eyes were obsidian as she stared at her husband. "So will 
they leave custody with a wife-beating coward?" she asked softly.

Masaro snarled and he lifted his hand again, storming towards the frail figure 
of the woman in the doorway.

"Papa! No!"

And Masaro stopped, his face as stony as his wife's. He picked Yumeko up, 
holding her firmly - but gently - against his chest, ignoring her struggles. 
She burst into tears, and  Shinichi joined in, their screams mingling to make 
a dismal chorus.

"Leave then," Masaro forced out through clenched teeth. "Go."

The scene abruptly froze, and Yumeko roused herself from the stupor she'd 
fallen into. This was something new... She stared at the dream and frowned. 
Something was... different. There seemed to be something slippery behind the 
image of the children and the parents, something lurking on the edges of 
sight... Without even thinking about it, Yumeko concentrated, and felt 
something twisting in the back of her head. Startled, she blinked. Then all 
other concerns took a back seat as a new reality unfolded before her, yielding 
itself to her eyes. Pale auras overlaid the figures in the hallway, shifting 
and swirling around them. Yumeko gasped, struck by the eerie beauty of her new 
discovery. Then she tensed, realising something else. Her mother had no aura. 
She stared at the image of the woman and tried to make the odd twisting 
movement she'd made earlier. Nothing. But then...

As Yumeko watched, disbelieving, tendrils of colour bled out of her father's 
aura and spiraled over to Natsukashii. Her own and Shinichi's aura's were 
bleeding too. The colours tangled around the woman, still keeping their 
distance. Then with the shock of a dive into cold water, they streamed into 
her. Natsukashii's aura appeared, shining blue and bright yellow and the red 
of a new-born winding around her.

The scene began to move again, and Yumeko lost her double-vision, able only to 
see her mother's quiet goodbye to her howling children. And then the howls 
abruptly cut off as the door closed behind her with a deafening click.

"... and Yuzuriha is crying in Seiichiro's arms and-" Misako stared at the 
hand that had suddenly landed heavily on her arm. "Yumeko? Yumeko!"

Yumeko smiled at her groggily. "Night," she said, and collapsed onto the 
pavement, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Once again, it was Misako's voice that brought her back to reality. "... fell 
over! I don't know why, it-"

"Wait, she's coming round!" a deeper voice interrupted. Yumeko smiled. Keiji. 
Good. "Yumeko! Are you okay?"

"Of *course* she's not okay, she just collapsed!" Misako's voice had acquired 
a slight edge of hysteria, and Yumeko tried to tell her that it was okay, she 
was just really tired, and her head was sore. Unfortunately, her tongue didn't 
seem to be working very well right now...

"Shut up, Misako," Keiji ordered calmly. "Yumeko, can you hear me?" His eyes 
stared into hers. He had such pretty eyes... she'd have to tell him sometime. 
Oh, he had a question, didn't he?

She nodded, and raised a hand to her head. "Hurts," she forced out, absurdly 
pleased with herself.

"Right," Keiji said. "Okay, let's get you someplace less public..." He slipped 
his arms around the woozy girl and easily lifted her. "Misako, where are we 
going? That bar?"

"Yeah, it's just round the corner... Yumeko, what happened? One minute you 
were fine and the next you were flat on the pavement! It's lucky Keiji was 
here, or we might have had real trouble!"

"Don't know." She tried to remember. Misako had been talking about Dreamers, 
and then she'd gone to sleep... something about colours?

 "We'll call your father from the bar, and get you home, okay?" Keiji smiled. 
"Lucky you, you get to miss school tomorrow."

Yumeko's answering smile was only slightly spoiled by Misako's shriek of 
anguish.

"Oh *no*! I still haven't finished that assignment!"

* * * * *

The woman who called herself Helen watched as three children stumbled into the 
bar. Even in this most moral of cities, there was corruption after all. How 
reassuring. Well, she admitted to herself, wearing the uniforms of one of 
Tokyo's more prestigious high schools, they could hardly be called children. 
But from her viewpoint, almost everyone she met could be considered a mere 
babe-in-arms. Or a corpse.

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked at the girl in the tall boy's arms. That one 
was the Dream Fighter she'd taken note of earlier! Interesting. She 
straightened, intending to slip off her stool and investigate further. But 
even that slight movement had attracted notice. A large hand descended on her 
arm, and Helen looked up into the eyes of the man behind the bar.

"Don't," he warned softly.

Helen smiled her most charming smile, and she had many of them. "I was merely 
curious, Tsugi."

"Don't be," he said flatly. "You have no reason to be interested yet. Do you?"

Helen nodded. "I have not received instructions as yet, true. Still, my 
curiosity shouldn't be any of your business, should it? Why do you care?"

Tsugi's eyes flared yellow, and Helen seethed inwardly. If only this had been 
anywhere outside this place he had made his own, if only it had been her own 
realm. There, she would easily be a match for him. However, when you bearded 
the lion in his lair...

"Well, I was just leaving," she smiled graciously, picking up her purse and 
dropping a note on the bar. "Don't bother to call a taxi, I'm sure I can find 
my own way home."

And she left the bar without giving the trio a second glance, but didn't stop 
her from sending a quick inquiring thought at the girl, so fast she was sure 
Tsugi wouldn't catch it. What came back along the thought made her quicken her 
pace just a little, until she was a block and a half away. She ducked into an 
alley and put her back against the wall.

"Not just a mere Dream Fighter," she breathed. "Father, what are you *doing*?"

End.

I don't do action ^_^

Don't forget about Hiro and his latest Dream Fighter.  They're obviously doing 
other stuff right now. ^_^; But they're still out there!

Just a brief note: this is not X. Misako's gossiping *might* have been the 
trigger for Yumeko's waking Dream, or not. But Yumeko is not an X Dreamer, she 
is Nightmare Fighter Yumeko (you know, it's up there in the title somewhere 
^_^) so don't automatically assume that she has the powers of Hinoto and co. 
As you may have guessed, I really loved the end of volume 8/beginning of 
volume 9. Even though there wasn't enough nummy Sorata-y goodness.

Thanks to John Evans for creating NFY and for proving that his pre-reading 
skills are second only to his godly writing powers. If he doesn't get sick of 
it, I *strongly* suggest every other NFY writer asks him to pre-read ^_^ Also 
thanks for the (many) extensions, John. I hope it was worth it.

For those of you who want a Little-Known Phoebe Fact, this work was finished 
on 7.59 pm Christmas Day while the author listened to her new Dave Dobbyn CD. 
Buy, buy, buy.

C&C to KPhoebe@mailandnews.com

12/25/99
Beware the Radish
http://www.mit.edu/~johne/btr/