Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Anatomy of Melancholy ❯ The Lost Ingredient ( Chapter 6 )

 

 

Chapter Six. This one is going to be dark in the beginning, so, tread lightly. If the mention of eating disorders or suicide bother you (or if you suffer or are in recovery for either), then I caution you NOT to read this. Sin is not bulimic, but she does struggle time to time against anorexia. You might have figured out as much from last chapter - Kaioshin noted Sin seemed a smidgeon too thin, and Sin herself acknowledged she had not eaten in three days. The first song is by Mudvayne, Happy. Oh, and I forgot something else. The songs Varish sang in the station in the second chapter are Barbie Girl, by Aqua and Doncha, by the Pussycat Dolls. The second song here is by Portishead, Undenied. The title for this chapter is taken from a poem by Anne Sexton. Poem provided at the end of the chapter. Also, just a precaution: this one is a bit racy at the end.

 

Chapter Six: The Lost Ingredient

 

Sin knelt trembling on the lustrous black and celadon tile floor, lurching in pain and despair over the pale green porcelain toilet. She cursed herself for eating, for she had feared this might happen. Had she not been so upset, she rationed in absentminded trepidation, perhaps she wouldn't need to be here going through this misery, but on the other hand altogether ... she couldn't seem to be able to place a time that her bundled nerves did not manage to get the best of her.

 

In the hole,

That is me ...

The dead are rolling over.

 

The demure demoness made a skittish, sour face before puking for the third time in the past ten minutes. She began to seriously fret that she might not be able to get her body under control. She had a phobia of regurgitation. She had indulged in a lethal dose of painkillers not so long ago, and had subsequently found herself disgorging at such a treacherous pace, her stomach had spasmed so savagely, that she thought certain, in those perilous moments, that her macabre obsession in courting death had once and for all caught up to her. I think my luck might have just run out.

 

In this hole,

Thickening ...

Dirt shoveled over shoulders.

 

“Oh, God ... shit no - no, please no.” She cried out in sheer panic, her petrified chocolate orbs flooding and both convulsing hands clutching the porcelain so tight had she not been so human it would have out right shattered in pieces. She spit up for the fourth time. She began to feel light headed, the spots dotting her sight so blinding and discordant, she thought to pass out at any minute from the optical cacophony. Her breathing came in short, spasmodic gasps - her chest so constricted, she imagined it a dead ringer for being strangled to death by a python.

 

I feel it in me,

So overwhelmed ...

All this pressure centerizing.

 

Obscured and almost inaudible, she thought she heard her name floating through the backdrop.

 

My life overturned,

Unfair the despair ...

All these scars keep ripping open.

 

She felt him keel beside her, one tender, strong hand massaging soothing circles across the quaking landscape of her back ... another coming round to cradle her leaden head as her stomach began to spasm inauspiciously again. She more so felt, than heard, the strangled scream that tore through her sore, acid coated throat. She clumsily slipped, her limp and languorous limbs collapsing in a pathetic heap as she fell against his comforting form, sobbing in meek pants. Something in her recoiled ... and a fear of unfathomable proportions consumed her to the bone.

 

Peel me from the skin,

Tear me from the rind,

Does it make you happy now?

Tear me from the bone,

Tear me from myself,

Are you feeling happy now?

 

“Come on, rabbit. Hush, its okay. I'm here.” Varish soothed his neophyte apprentice in reposeful consolation. Curling his arms tight around her and resting her head on his bare chest, he snuggled her into his lap, rocking her side to side and pledging soft solaces in her ear to mitigate the abundance of fear. “You thought I wouldn't know - pumpkin, I might be daft and scatterbrained at times, but my head isn't that lost in the clouds.” He felt her calm at that, one slender hand catching in his black silk robe. Capturing the slender wrist in his hand, he lifted it to his lips, dropping a relieved kiss on the cool, ashen flesh.

 

In this hole,

That is me ...

A life that's growing feeble.

 

“You binged.” He stated more than asked as he righted her in his lap. He had been through the motions a hundred times before. On cue, the saddened, mortified sparkle in her eyes told him more than any loquacious elaboration ever possibly could. “Oh, pumpkin ... you can not go so long not eating - the things you do eat don't amount to anything. You need to break into it easy so your stomach can adjust. I told you that.” He cupped her face in his one hand, his heart dropping as more tears began to flood her eyes, coating his fingers in salt rain. “No, no baby ... come on, don't cry. I am not mad or disappointed in you. I am hurt ... I am hurt and scared out of my mind. It is torture to see you going through this.” He said hugging her close, trying hard himself not to cry.

 

I am not doing enough. I do my damndest to keep one step ahead of her, but it isn't doing me any good. I thought she had been eating. I am supposed to be there to catch her - to save her. I am never going to forgive myself for letting her down like this. This is killing me.

 

In this hole,

So limiting ...

The sun has set - all darkens.

 

“So, I don't suppose you would care to enlighten me to the catalyst behind this little episode.” The paternal demon subtly prodded, slipping the burnished mahogany chopsticks out of her hair to let the plentiful lot of silken espresso fall free. Brushing a tempered hand through the glistening gossamer strands, he sat in a lopsided commingle of patience and dread, rendering her the quiet space she required to get up her confidence. Creature of habit, he reached his other hand into his robe pocket, fetching his pack of cigarettes and lighter, igniting the tobacco and taking a deep, deliberate drag and leaning against the cold marble partition.

 

Buried underneath,

Hands slipoff the wheel ...

Internal pathway to contention.

 

“I .. it ... Higashi.” Sin mumbled, repositioning her unstable, fragile frame to rest her head on his shoulder and take a long, much needed, sip from the glass of ice water he handed to her. It's going to sound so stupid to him. It sounds stupid to me, now that I think about it. Sin floundered about in her thoughts. She had no idea a good place to begin. She felt so stupid. In retrospect, she had seriously overreacted. She couldn't help feeling disgusted and ashamed at her rude and gratuitous outburst.

 

Peel me from the skin,

Tear me from the rind,

Does it make you happy now?

Tear me from the bone,

Tear me from myself,

Are you feeling happy now?

 

“Say, look at me. Sin ... did Higashi do something?” Her solicitous protector interrogated, one finger sliding under her chin to align her lashing, dilated, eyes into balance with his cold sober, calculating ones. “I mean it, Sin, I find out he hurt you, that bastard, God or not, he is going to rot in the likes of a hell he can't even begin to imagine ... after I get through quartering and skinning the pathetic little shit.” He threatened in a sinister hiss. “I promised to take care of you. I promised no one would ever hurt you again. God is not going to be an exception.” He snarled as her refined hands came up to cup his face, her tepid fingers splaying about his lips in an inchoate fan to lull his blossoming rage.

 

Are you happy?

Are you happy?

Are you feeling happy?

 

“No, please, hold on ... it is not like that. It isn't.” She panted, pausing to catch her breath as he feathered her fingers in spellbound kisses. “I - hungry ... I was hungry. He fed me and ... then we started talking. I ... oh shit.” She hesitated, laughing at the absurd recollection. Of course, sad to say, it came out pinched and distorted, and she cringed in pain as her inflamed and ulcerated throat protested in a tart, barbed string of unpleasant tingles. I might as well let him in on it. Besides, he's looking at me as though I just sprouted a second head. God, but he's adorable when he's confused. “Higashi, he thinks - you and me ... he thought we might be lovers.” She blushed coquette pink, breathing in coarse pants to keep from giggling.

 

In the hole,

That is me ...

Left with a heart exhausted.

 

“Is that so. And, you found that amusing.” He mused around a nod as he took a smooth, dark drag from the half spent cigarette. Nice going, Higashi. Let it to you to be so goddamn perceptive. His thoughts bled disquieted grief as he absconding despondent, doleful eyes behind pale lids. No use in burdening her with a guilt trip. That's the last thing she needs right now ... and should she perk up to this, that is no doubt what she would see fit to put herself through.

 

What's my release?

What sets me free?

Do you pull me up just to push me down again?

 

He had loved her for as long as he could remember. He loved her before he had taken her into his care, and that love had multiplied so out of control in the past ten thousand or so years that some days, it hurt being in the same room with her. It hurt to look at her, it hurt to hear her speak, it hurt to feel her touch and her scent ... her scent sent him reeling. He refused to abandon her, though - no matter the pain he had to endure being near her, she had been cast out and abused enough. He refused to betray her trust and respect. So, for her, he could endure. Only for you, Pet.

 

Peel me from the skin,

Tear me from the rind,

Does it make you happy now?

Tear me from the bone,

Tear me from myself,

Are you feeling happy now?

 

“It just took me by surprise.” Sin intoned in a solemn hush. I thought he might. Sin stared at his closed eyes, her heart leaping into her throat and sticking there like a luckless insect suspended in spider silk. She could feel her insides split and peel ... her need condensing beneath her skin like droplets of petrified honey ... her appetite mushrooming like a virgin rose under morning summer sun. God, please don't let him shut me out. I can't bear to lose him. I ... I think I ...

 

Peel me from the skin,

(peel me from the skin)

Tear me from the rind,

Does it make you happy now?

 

“You've yet to say what Higashi did to make you so distraught. Or, was that it - the presumption of our being ...” a sullen, measured pause, “intimate.” He rasped in a pouting hush, profound blue orbs remaining sheltered in faint lids and thick raven lashes.

 

Tear me from the bone,

(tear me from the bone)

Tear me from myself,

Are you feeling happy?

 

“No, it is not.” Sin huffed, straightening the jade bathrobe that had slipped to expose one ghostly pale shoulder and sitting to straddle her long time guru's hard, sculpted middle. “In the foyer, he startled me.” She hesitated, closing her eyes and gulping. Her wicked admirer let his eyes slit open a shade, regarding her zealously, an absentminded hand dropping the cigarette into the toilet. He, of course, understood the reasons behind her being so obscenely timorous at times. “I - he brought it up after we finished eating, and ... then I ...” she fumbled, gesturing a perturbed hand, “I told him I did not care to get into it. So, he read my mind. I sort of lost it and I stormed out.” She concluded, her hand toying timidly with the slim silver cross about his neck. “It's beautiful.”

 

Does it make you happy?

Are you feeling happy?

Are you fucking happy?

Now that I'm lost ... left with nothing.

 

The lovesick demon male studied the elegant hand a casual moment before bringing it to his lips and dusting eloquent, butterfly kisses along the knuckles. “I am going to have a talk with Higashi.” He decided nodding. “Hold it,” he halted her lips with a quieting finger before she could try to persuade him out of it, “I am not going to bitch him out. But ... I am not going to sit in the shadows and let him, albeit it in good intention, incense your condition. I am not going to elaborate,” he soothed, seeing the pleading shame in her eyes, “he only needs understand that you and I ... our road has been long and hard, and a lot of baggage is part and parcel of the game.”

 

Does it make you happy?

Are you feeling happy?

Are you fucking happy?

Now that I'm lost ... left with nothing.

 

“I should not have gotten my dander up like that. It's not as though he meant to hurt me. I hate myself so bad, sometimes.” Sin bristled, leaning into the sympathetic hand that glided through her hair, the fingers delicately combing out the scattered tangles. I love his hands - they're so gentle and soothing, I could stay like this forever and be perfectly content. Sin mused, a thin smile bleeding along the corners of her lips as she batted kittenishly at the glistening pendant.

 

“From a young age it became clear to me that I had no desire for anyone. I had more interest in being an evil overlord and avenging our ancestors.” The puckish Elder mused out loud, entranced by the flirtatious antic. “So, I made up my mind, almost from birth, to become a priest.” He sighed, brushing her hair out her face and depositing the imposing blanket of chocolate neatly over her shoulders. “I tried so hard to sidestep it.” He reflected in a regretful hush, a forlorn smile hugging his lips. Unrequited love - how fabulously cliché.

 

“To not try is to never know. Besides, you're a lot of things, but a quitter ... that you're not.” Sin whispered. One hand rested on his bare chest, the other lingered along one black silk clad hip. I do love him. I think I probably always have. I just hadn't the sense to figure it out because I kept myself just as isolated as he did - although, granted, for drastically different reasons.

 

Your softly spoken words,

Release my whole desire.

Undenied ...

Totally.

 

He heeded her curious insinuation through dubious, doubting eyes. It sounded so outrageous, he almost thought himself to be dreaming. In the abstract was the only place he could reason her saying anything that absolute - anything that resolute. Perhaps I did not wake up, after all. I must be in the middle of another one of those vivid, lucid dreamscapes. He studied her, noting the passionate, yet adoring, gleam in her eyes ... the delirious sensation of her lukewarm hand as it trembled modestly against his bare flesh. So, it is just a dream. Of course, there are certain ... special advantages to dreaming. He decided, a sly smirk creeping into his thoughts.

 

And so bare is my heart,

I can't hide.

And so where does my heart belong ... ?

 

“I shan't dispute the truth.” He choked out in a blend of lustful anticipation and grotesque apprehension. Dream or not, for some odd reason, he had trouble making love to her, despite that it was only her ethereal double. He supposed, as he closed his eyes and licked his parched lips, it was both because it wasn't her, and because he felt as if he were, in some unspeakable sense, raping her. Not her, so to speak, but her innocent trust and dedicated faith in him. It's the most I am ever going to have, though. He languished.

 

Beneath your tender touch,

My senses can't divide.

Oh so strong...

My desire.

 

He leaned into the coy, nectarous hands as they dusted through his hair, then slid sensuously to skirt the planes of his neck, the outline of his shoulders and dipped to the tips of his fingers. He brought one of her hands to his lips, teasing one digit into his mouth and sighing in replete pleasure. She's going to drive me out of what little thread of sanity I have left. He thought, eyes fluttering, as she moaned, leaning in and melding her body more intimately to his, her hands slithering under his robe to bathe his ribs and chest, scathing nails lapping amorously at the rigid, satiny contours.

 

Feral, yet tenderhearted, hands found her delicate hips, gingerly molding to the scandalous cloth covered curves as tempting, tenacious fingers tickled spring rain down the chiseled valley of his torso. I must be some tired. I can't say as though I've ever had a dream come off quite this real. I wonder if she really feels this good.

 

“You can't do this anymore. I'm not going to let you keep hurting yourself like this,” he breathed, shuddering as her polished lips swept doting licks and nips along his collarbone and throat, lush lips ghosting to suckle his ear. He moaned, her alluring ardor incensing his already mind bending state of arousal. “Oh, God ... Pet you dare stop doing that, I regret to say I am going to kill you,” he groaned, remitting the provocative gesture, teeth and tongue scraping her chin and throat before descending and lavishing an undraped shoulder. His grip on her middle became more desperate and despairing, his desire consuming him straight to the core. “Hachu chtoby ty byla moyey.”

 

That accent. Sin gasped at the thick, earthy Russian timbre. He hasn't used it since ... since we were cast out. And, he hasn't called me Pet since ...

 

For so bare is my heart,

I can't hide.

And so where does my heart belong .. ?

 

He relished the borderline iniquitous torture as her moist lips spoiled his temple and eyelids in delicious, ambrosial kisses. She lingered coquettishly about the corner of his mouth before cocooning his bottom lip, licking and nibbling it in timid innocence as one hand slid up to cradle his head, fluid fingers teasing through his hair. I need her so goddamn much. He had no need for experimentation, of course, for he had rehearsed this in his mind's eye a thousand times. But every time always feels like the first. I don't care how many times I dream about her, I can never bring myself to rush through it. Probably because then I have to wake up ... and that means not having her.

 

Now that I've found you,

And seen behind those eyes.

How can I ... carry on?

 

Her lips at last becoming more ardent and ambitious, he fluently guided them open, sliding a slick, inquisitive tongue inside to taste the same heated paradise he had a thousand times before. God she always tastes so good. She's a goddamn drug. I am going to hate to come out of this one. I still can not believe how real she feels. He clung to her like a dying man his last breath, her purrs and whimpers putting him into and almost excruciating drunken lust. One hand melted insatiably into her hair, the other crushed her hips against him in impoverished desperation. Her arms threaded about his neck like a choke chain. He moaned in enamoured longing as sleek, rapacious hands slid the flimsy robe aside and sharp, edacious nails sliced through his flesh, branding the lucid canvas in incensed crescent moons.

 

He almost cried it felt so good. “Ti ochen' nuzhna mne.” He ground out in delirium, a rough nudge persuading her onto the plush shag rug. He screamed into her mouth as her hips encircled him, the embrace so desperate that had it not been a dream, he thought for sure to find bruises in the morning. In the far reaches of his mind, he noted that odd. He could not recollect dream Sin being this brutal or demanding before. But God knows I damn sure like it. I must be needing her bad if my imagination is going through all of this trouble. “Dover `sya mne.” He pleaded, his drenched forehead resting against hers as he looked to her for permission, his hand glazing along her slim, sheen thigh.

 

“Please ...”

 

For so bare is my heart,

I can't hide.

And so where does my heart belong ... ?

 

Sighing in satiated relief and humbled delight, the exhausted demon Caitiff snuggled his bone weary inamorata into his arms as they lie tangled up in bed. She looks so adorable. He thought as he rained kisses along her flushed, glistening skin, surprised that she eagerly reciprocated. I must really be needing her bad. I can not, to my best recollection, remember that ever happening before. She smells so good. Insane. Only Sin could sweat for this long and still smell like a bloody bed of roses.

 

“Here.” He said, handing her the luscious, vinyl apple that had been sitting on her nightstand. “Eat this. You need something on your stomach.” Spooning his body tight against her again, he lay content to drop feather light, ticklish kisses along her neck and shoulders, relishing the dainty, schoolgirl giggles and gossamer limbs that lovingly entangled him. Some dream. I am going to be pissed as all get out when I wake up. He thought, sighing morosely as he placed a set of chaste kisses along her temple.

 

“You okay?” He heard her ask in confused concern as she placed the apple to his lips and stroked an appeasing hand through his hair.

 

Sure. He thought taking a bite of the offered fruit and moaning blissfully as the solacing hand combed through his short, murky brunette mop. I am going to wake up and you're going to be gone. That and I took a vow of celibacy and shouldn't be indulging myself like this ... I wonder if dinglefuzzie is reading my mind right now. Eat your heart out, Holy Joe. He smirked impishly, planting a wet, passionate kiss on her lips. I had better get out of this what I can. He decided.

 

“Predostav `eto mne.” He purred, a hungry, lascivious grin replacing the saturnine grimace as he discarded the spent apple onto the floor and locked her roaming hands above her head. His tongue descended to the hollow of her collarbone, tracing a slick line up to her chin as his lips plundered hers in requisite fervor. “Ti nuzhna mne.” He shyly cooed as he nestled into the crook of her neck, lips and tongue bleeding sacrosanct kisses, nips and nibbles. It's not about the sex, Pet - it's about you. He felt her tremble as she quieted in submission ... and he drank her in again.

 

Belong.

Belong.

 

Looking at the sleeping form puddled cozily in his lap, he smiled glumly, tucking her up in the comfort of the velvet bedspread and draping his arms about her possessively. He nuzzled his nose into her soft, honeyed hair out of instinct, once again smiling at her dulcet, comforting scent.

 

I know I probably don't deserve it, but on everything holy, please don't let me wake up. If I can only have her in my dreams then that is where I am content to stay. I love her so much it hurts. I admire her. I long to take care of her and protect her, not just as her friend and mentor, but as her lover. I need her. I love her. I know I'm not supposed to, but I do. Please ... just let me keep dreaming.

 

“Ya tyebya lyublyu ...”

 

Belong...

 

End of Chapter Six.

 

The Lost Ingredient (By Anne Sexton)

Almost yesterday,

Those gentle ladies stole to their baths in Atlantic City,

For the lost rites of the first sea of the first salt

running from a faucet.

I have heard they sat for hours in briny tubs,

Patting hotel towels sweetly over shivered skin,

Smelling the stale

harbor of a lost ocean,

Praying at last for impossible loves,

Or new skin,

Or still another child.

And since this was the style,

I don't suppose they knew what they had lost.

 

Almost yesterday,

Pushing West, I lost ten Utah driving minutes,

Stopped to steal past postcard vendors,

Crossed the hot slit of macadam to touch the marvelous loosed

bobbing of The Salt Lake,

To honor and assault it in its proof,

To wash away some slight need for Maine's coast.

Later the funny salt itched in my pores and stung like bees or sleet.

I rinsed it off on Reno and hurried to steal a better proof at tables where I always lost.

 

Today is made of yesterday,

Each time I steal toward rites I do not know,

Waiting for the lost ingredient,

As if salt or money or even lust would keep us calm and prove us whole at last.

 

The Russian phrases that Varish uses (in order):

1. I wish you were mine.

2. I need you so much.

3. Trust me.

3. Let me do that.

4. I need you.

5. I love you.

 

I apologize if the translations might be a bit distorted. It is quite difficult to hit it dead on because of their alphabet. Important thing is I kept within the rating. I think. I don't know, this site confuses me anymore and I am sort of going by the seat of my pants, here.

 

So, the question is: Is he dreaming, or might this be real? I am not going to say just yet. But, poor Varish if he finds out he isn't. He is going to be quite the embarrassed one, methinks. Of course, I had not planned on them getting together ... but Varish does not see fit to cooperate, it seems. I prefer to let the characters decide the story. Bad idea. So, I need some time to consider options and possible later-on-down-the-road ramifications. It looks like either Sin is going to fall for her mentor, or Higashi is going to get left out ... or poor Higashi is going to end up in a threesome.

 

Kibito: You are not going to write Master Higashi into a threesome. ::death glares them into next week::

 

Creature of Habit: ::both girls glare back: Care to make something of it?!

 

Kibito: ::shrinks back, but is still glaring::

 

Creature of Habit: Thought so.

 

I decided to wait and put this chapter together with the next one since I wanted a balance of everyone - and since I do not like making the chapters too gruesomely long, I had to do the one of Higashi and Kibito separate. Go on - read it. It's funny. Kibito goes nuts with the garlic.

 

Kibito: You're demented.

 

Creature of Habit: And you're pink!

 

Kibito: Did you just now figure that out?

 

Varish: Say - am I dreaming or not? ::leers at Sin who blushes and slinks out of the room::

 

Creature of Habit: ...

 

Varish: You are demented. ::goes to stand by Kibito, who tries to death glare him but is instead laughed at::

 

Creature of Habit: ::both girls smirk:: Indeed.