Those Who Do Not Move: Evette's Loss

Those Who Do Not Move:  Evette's Loss

"It's not fair."
"I know."

Most of the walk back to her place had been quiet.  She'd followed along behind me as if she didn't know where we were headed.  It was only as we neared her house that she spoke up again, and even then it seemed tired and reluctant.  For what it mattered I wasn't being dismissive; it really isn't fair.  Her future is entirely at my whim, and I'm not interested.

A couple decades ago and that wouldn't have mattered.  Any guy that was off his guard in the wrong place was a husband waiting to happen.  Here and now, though, she'd have to deal with my reflexes and a search party.  If she had the magical ability to avoid those I don't think we'd have had any of our conversations.

Now I'm not being fair.  I don't know if she would've kidnapped me if she had the opportunity.  That's not how Nekomata operate, as far as what I've read.  Most of them use surprise the first time and sex appeal thereafter.  Looking back, she's been more passive than any other girl to follow me.  Hells, if it weren't for the stalking or how we met I don't know what other complaints I'd have.  She's just trying to build a life.  The only problem is that she's trying to make me into the foundation, and that building just isn't going to stand.

We turn onto the street leading to her house, and she starts talking again.  "You do want to get married someday, right?"
"I'm sure I will.  I'm probably just putting off the inevitable."
"That's not what I asked."
I almost stop as I recall her question.  I'd had the thought before, years ago, but I've never had a mamono bring it up.  I've considered staying single, but never for long.  Married men are happier, at least when they aren't married to one of the least pleasant races.
But I don't want to be like them.  I don't want to live the life that dad's chosen.  I don't have a why yet; it's just the feeling I get when I think about it.

"I wondered if you would or not."  I turn to look at her.  Her face is downcast as she slowly follows after me.  "I wondered what effects your curse would have; whether or not you'd be changed from having your spirit energy siphoned off every second of every day."
I stop.  We've reached her house, but that's not the reason.  "Effects?  What effects?"
She lets out a single bark of laughter.  "How do you not notice these things?  How do you not feel what it's doing?"  She pauses, and her smile fades.  "Right, I guess everything you feel is just the norm, isn't it?  Your body produces massive amounts of spirit energy, and yet you never notice it because it's never in your system long enough to effect you.  You've developed these overly masculine features, and yet you've never once felt lust, have you?"

I swallow.  "Rina," I begin, looking around to see if anyone could've overheard us.  "You haven't told anyone else that theory, have you?"
"No, why would I?"
I turn back to her and shake my head, "No reason.  I was just curious."
She furrows her brow as she looks at me.  "So it's true.  I wondered how it was that you never married, even though you live like you do."  She looks away and starts to walk slowly toward her house, but stops before getting more than five feet.  "I thought that I had to be wrong, but it made perfect sense.  So I thought I'd try to win you over without sex.  I'd just spend time with you, and you would come to like me.  Love me, even.  But you aren't interested in love, either.  You're just looking for friends."

We both wait a moment in silence.  I don't know whether or not she's expecting a response.  I don't know what either of us is doing.  For her sake, though, I'd like to know.  "So what are you going to do now?"
She takes a deep breath.  "I'm going to start the search again.  What else can I do?"
She's going to find someone else.  Good.  It's probably better for the both of us.  I wait to see if she has something else to say, then turn to leave.

"What are you going to do?"
I stop.  "The same thing I always do, probably."
"Are you always going to be alone?  Isn't that too depressing?"
I look over my shoulder to see her doing the same.  It's odd, seeing her like this.  Uncertainty doesn't suit her.  "I'm not alone; I've got my friends."
"I see."  She looks back to her house.  After a moment she starts walking again.  "I'm sorry I can't be one of them."

There's something strange about the moment.  Beyond her clothes, the only things I can really make out are the white fur of her hands and feet.  The black hair on her head is just another shadow overlaid over the black background of her house.  And yet, when she opens the door and turns back, for a moment I can catch the slightest hint of her face.

I wonder if I could've made things work.  Could we have been happy, like she had said we could?  Or was that just some random streak of sentimentalism, or else my pride screaming at me for hurting her?  I don't know.  After all this time, I still don't know mamono that well.

I don't think I'll see her again.

For a second, it was kind of like spending time with a friend.  We were slowly getting more relaxed, and the uncomfortable moments were getting shorter.  We were getting to know each other.  That's how these things happen.  It just wasn't what she was hoping for, though.

Oh well.  I've never had that many friends.

---

I was hoping when I opened the front door that I'd run into one of my sisters or else find an empty room.  The usual, since mom usually drags dad off once the kitchen has been cleaned.  What I wasn't hoping for was to find her in the den, waiting for me to get back.

She perks up when I open the door.  "Oh, hey!  Did you two have fun?"
I was prepared to be talked down to, or pleaded with, or bargained with, or debated.  I wasn't prepared for the happy, upbeat greeting or the pleasant smile.  I move my head in a way that could be a nod or a shake, depending entirely on perspective, and give my most noncommittal "Sure, I guess."
"Well that's good," she beams.  "You know, I was thinking, and you're right.  I really don't know anything about this girl, but I bet she must be pretty special if she caught your eye."  She claps her hands together, "So!  Why don't you tell me about her?"

Something terrible is happening.  I don't know what, exactly, but it is.  What's worse is that I don't have any plan at all for this, and my auto-pilot has shown itself to be untrustworthy.
Unfortunately, my alternative is thought-bending psychologist.  I slowly fill my lungs with air, in part to buy some time.  Then, as though a switch flipped, it all comes out.  "Well, we'd make it public or whatever, but we agreed to keep things quiet.  See, this one guy, Lucas, started dating this girl he'd known since forever, and she got no end of harassment from the mamono girls.  It got to the point where the cops had to be called, and they eventually broke up over it.  So, I mean, she said she'd be fine and that she could handle it, but I just don't want to put her through that, you know?"

She nods slowly, absorbing what I just said.
I nod once, frantically thinking through what I just said to make sure I didn't just slip and give up the whole game.

She finally lifts herself from her chair, warmly saying "Well that's sweet, but surely you could tell your-"
"Dear mother," calls Evette as she walks into the room, "did you forget?  After dinner is when I spend time with him."
Mom turns and looks to Evette with a tense smile.  "Ah, well, yes, but I didn't want him disappearing off to his room just yet.  He'll never come back out again," she laughs.  Trying to treat it as a joke only highlights that it bothers her.
Evette, meanwhile, starts walking over to me.  She laughs politely as she grabs my hand, "Well I doubt there's anything anyone can do to stop him from hiding away, and I do need my dinner, dear mother."
She drags me out of the room before mom can say anything else.  The look she gives us is tense and troubled.  It's uncomfortable to look at.  I wish people would stop looking at me like that.

We come to a stop in front of her room.  I open my mouth to protest at the exact moment that she says "You owe me, dear brother."  I close my mouth.  Her room's just as frilled and dark as it was last time, but less orderly.  Everything seems oddly out of place and mismatched.  I can't point to anything concrete; it's just a feeling I get that everything's off.  She pulls me over to her bed while turning to smile at me.  "Come, dear brother, have a seat."
I hesitate for a second, but it's not like I have any reason not to.

"There we go," she says to herself.  Then she sits down next to me and leans against my chest with all of her body weight.  She presses against me slightly more, trying to get a more comfortable spot while I search my head to see what I should be doing about this.  "Mmm, it'd be more comfortable if you were laying down," she trails off, looking up to my face.
"I'm fine how I am."
She laughs lightly as she presses herself up against me again, "Oh, I'm sure you are."
I pull myself back.  "Listen, I'm-"
"Dating," she hazards.  "I know.  We heard about it when you didn't show up for dinner."

I don't know what to say to that.  I knew that they'd find out, but I never thought through if I'd need to do anything about that.  I can't see what, but the fact that I've already forgotten a loose end is troubling enough.
"Hey, blow out the candle."
The flame wicks away to nothing but an ember and her hand immediately goes to my chest, pressing her spectral arm into it.  For a second I picture it going for my heart before the rational part of my mind reasserts itself.  Even if she did grab it, there's nothing dangerous that she could or would do.  Instead she just sighs into my chest, "Hmm.  I was worried that your energy might be tainted when you got back.  I suppose that was rather silly of me, wasn't it?  You're too much of a 'gentleman."

She repositions herself slightly to scoot closer to me.  "Isn't it odd?  In the human cities they have this wonderful little term for men who won't have sex with you.  It's a compliment to them."  She waits for a response that I'm not giving.  She sighs after a moment, "You're always so quiet when we're doing this."
"What's there to talk about?"
"Oh, anything," she sighs.  After a moment her expression starts to darken.  "Her, perhaps."
I'm actually about to ask who she's talking about, but I catch myself.  She presses on, "It was the strangest thing, since I hadn't heard anything about you seeing anyone.  I'd trusted Lily to keep me informed about, well, just about everything that could ever be called gossip."

"We kept things quiet."  The shorter the answer, the better.  If she's fishing for something then I'm not going to let her have it without a fight.
She lifts a hand to trace the outline of the wound on my cheek, watching with a mix of concern and some bitter annoyance.  "I see.  I'll admit that I'm also curious, but it doesn't matter.  Even if she's amazing or beautiful or kind or sweet, it doesn't matter."  She presses against my chest with one hand and raises herself to a knee to look me in the face.  Her expression is completely serious and her fake accent disappears as she speaks "I want you to leave her."
I give her a flat, meaningless "All right."

She kicks off with the other foot, catching me off guard and putting me on my back.  Her hair falls forward, framing her face as it grows angrier and more frustrated.  "I'm serious, Val."  She stops before taking a breath to fill her lungs.  Her gaze shifts to my eyes, then away, then back as she quietly admits "I don't want to watch you die."

I wonder if I've ever looked this closely at her face before.  Her red, pupil-less eyes are staring straight into mine.  They're partly obscured by platinum bangs that hang from her loose-weave, lazily formed ponytail.  The pale blue-white of her skin isn't blushing, and doesn't look made up.  She looks young - younger than me, even.  Maybe it's because her skin is so much smoother than anyone else; she was never alive, so she's even closer to that porcelain ideal than even some other Wights.  Or maybe it's the faint hint of moisture forming at her eyelids and the thin-lipped frown.

I finally swallow, trying to find something to say to her.  Anything to say to her.  "I'm sorry.  Even Tera's going to die eventually."
"But you don't have to.  You could stay with me."  She presses further, forcing her expression into a smile to try and hide the seeming desperation.  She speaks quickly at first.  "You don't  have to choose me; any number of other girls would work.  It could be Lily, or- or that Jennifer you know, or," she slows and finally stops.
"Why not me?"  The weight increases as she slowly stops holding herself up and away from me.  "I'll do anything you want, all right?  So just lay still."  She starts to lower herself, pressing her chest against mine.  When she starts to close her eyes it only makes it more clear how close to tears she is.  "I'll take care of everything."

I grab one of her shoulders and push her back up before her face gets too much closer to mine.  I'm rewarded with a single, wet tap on my cheek that makes my eyes jerk shut by reflex.  She starts to speak before I can, quietly asking "Do you remember when you were playing with Tera when she'd just turned six?  She had gotten those little foam fists, and wanted to play with them.  We all went to the hospital together."
I manage to open my left eye, catching sight of her.  She's averted her eyes again, and is busily trying to keep any more tears from falling with the wrist of her other hand.  She continues, smiling and frowning in equal measure, "I remember sitting with you, when you'd fractured twelve ribs.  You just sat there, smiling like nothing in the world was wrong."

She refills her lungs and finally turns back to me to drive home the point she was working toward.  "And I remember the cringing pain, everyday for- for at least a year; every night you'd steel yourself and try not to make a sound.  I know what your pain tolerance is, and I know how much you suffered so that I wouldn't go hungry."
"That was just because you're my sister."  It's not a great point, but I need to say something somewhere in this.
She smiles further.  She'd been having trouble keeping her eyes open before, but now it was practically impossible for her.  "Do you think that makes it worse?  That I'd be angry that you didn't want anything in return?"

She places her hand over the one that I'm holding her shoulder with.  "I didn't ask you to spend eternity with me lightly, you know?  I meant it.  I meant every word and every second of it."
"That's enough."  I can't let this go on anymore.  If she gets anymore invested in this I don't think she'll ever let go.  "I'm not interested.  If I marry a girl who'll live forever then that's how it'll be, but I'm not marrying you."
Once again her body slackens and much of her weight rests on my hand.  Her face relaxes too, less out of an end to the sadness than out of depression.  She sighs, "Why?  I'd do anything you wanted.  We could live in a mud hut in the forest, and I'd be happy."

I push off with both hands, and in a second we're both sitting back up.  She's still straddling my waist, but it's a relative improvement.  "That's enough.  It just isn't going to happen.  I don't love you, not like that."
Now, neither sad nor depressed, she looks pained.  It's like she's angry, but not with me or anyone else in specific.  "No."  The slight buzzing in my chest grows more intense.  "You might hate me for it, but I don't care."  In a second it spreads to cover my entire body, making it feel like the world is vibrating intensely.  "I'm not going to watch you die," she insists, either to me or herself.

In an instant the sensation intensifies to the point of discomfort, and then ceases entirely.  She looks over me for a second, watching for something.
I know what.  "Tell me, what would you've done if I was too weak to move?"  She flinches slightly, turning her gaze to stare at my chest.

I don't need the answer, anyway.  I'm not sad or angry.  I'm too tired to be.

I grab her by the upper arms and lift her up and off of me, then left myself off her bed.
She weakly mutters "Don't go."
"I'll see you tomorrow."

I feel worn out.  It's been too long a day.
I could really use a family to help me out.