Fan Fiction / Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Yamato Gun IV ❯ Tourniquet ( Chapter 5 )

"Do you remember me... lost for so long... will you be on the
other side or will you forget me?"

It's 12:30 AM right now. I can't sleep. Can you really blame me?

Let's go down the list of notables for this last little while. One of if not the best friend I've ever known is a vegetable until something happens with the virus she contracted. I have a copy of myself in the brig for infecting Makoto. Nobody knows anything, or nobody will talk.

I stare at the replicator, and mull over a possible alternative to all this thinking that is going to drive me insane. I've done my homework on marijuana and I know how powerful a sleep aid it is, which is exactly what I need at the moment. And I can't stop thinking about how peaceful and carefree Makoto was when she was still awake and, well, stoned, and I need that too.

I've made my decision. I hope it's the right one.

I walk up to the replicator. "Please create one point five grams of marijuana, strain Blueberry Hydro, ground, a Sherlock Holmes-style pipe with a bowl large enough to hold all of the Blueberry..." Anything else? I ask myself. "And a lighter, please." I say, my voice now starting to shake.

The ordered materials appear in the indent in the wall and I pick them up, examining the bowl of the pipe to make sure a screen is in it, and bringing them back to my bed. I sit down and pack the bowl of the pipe with the ground marijuana, and then hesitate. Do I really want this? Yes, One part of my mind answers. No, Another says.

I've gone this far, I'm not going to stop now. A third part of my mind says, overriding the first two. I light the lighter and move it around the top of the packed bowl, inhaling, and the contents spark and burn. I feel the smoke traveling down into my lungs, singeing the back of my throat and irritating what seems like every cilia in my respiratory system but I make sure not to cough and lose the hit. I hold in the smoke for as long as I can, and after twenty-five or so seconds I exhale. I hope this works. I think, taking another hit.

As I hold it in the first catches up to me and I start my ascent. I marvel at this new feeling, unlike anything else I've experienced. Makoto was right in her first description. I think. "Buzzy." She says in my mind.

My entire body feels infused with energy, like I've connected myself to a circuit. It's also shorting out my brain. I guess it operates at a different voltage than the rest of my body.

I continue taking hit after hit until I don't get any more smoke out of the ash in the bowl. "C-Computer?" I say, or at least attempt.

Apparently the computer can understand Anviled, and blips in response. "Wh-where would the garbage can or whatever...where-where would that be in this room?" I ask it.

"The replicator is the equivalent of the garbage disposal. To use this function, place the unwanted materials in the replicator and say 'garbage'."

"Thanks, computer."

I get up and, very very unsteadily, make my way the eight feet to the replicator from the bed. I put the pipe in and say "garbage", and the pipe vanishes. "Computer? What's the modern equiv-equ-version of, uh-" I concentrate hard on what I was thinking about. Arg, my mind's RAM just got its power cut off and I'm trying to sub in a 9-Volt battery for a household current. "-uh, Visine called?"

"Tetrahydrozoline Hydrochloride Vespene solution is its chemical name; Its common name is The White Formula, named after Jack White, its creator."

"Thank you. A Hypospray set... uh, set up to deliver... uh... whatever that stuff the computer just said was. Please." I say to the replicator.

The replicator creates the hypospray, and I deliver the solution in both eyes. Instantly I feel them go back from their slightly stretched state to normal.

I make it back to the bed and crawl under the covers. Wow, does this feel good. It's like everything is all right with the world. Like I'm the kind of person who follows trends and caring just went out of style.

That's odd. That metaphor would never have come to me under normal circumstances. Of course, this hardly counts as normal circumstances. I guess I should just chalk this up as stoned rambling.

A headrush begins and I go into an involuntary shudder when it happens, as if a wave of whatever this feeling is just crashed on top of me. When it's over I have no idea what I was talking about.

...What was I talking about? Ah, never mind. Couldn't have been that important. I mean, stuff like my name and all that I know... rambling. Probably again. Stop it, me. Can't just go on rambling like this.

I can feel myself drifting off to sleep, and welcome the waves of tiredness washing over me, like the tide of the soul, as I slip into the uncon-unc-sleep.

¯¯¯---

I see... something. A box. No, a room. From the top. Like it had a glass ceiling.

I see people. Makoto... and someone I don't recognize right away. She's familiar... Jenni. That's it.

Jenni? Why Jenni? She passed away about a year ago.

Makoto's smoking some marijuana with her. Her face is streaked with tears-She was upset about something?-but she's not upset now. She's coughing. Jenni quickly goes into another room, presumably to get Makoto a drink or something. She comes back and Makoto drinks a bit of the bottle of coke offered to her. Makoto then leans back on the couch she's on, and takes another drink. Her and Jenni start talking, but I can't hear what's being said.

Reality shifts.

Makoto's apartment, from the top again. Minako and Makoto this time, smoking more weed. Minako doesn't cough when she takes a hit, and says something. Apparently the glass is soundproof. Whatever it is, Makoto doesn't expect it, because she stops before she hits the pipe and says something back to Minako. After one more back-and-forth Makoto finally hits the pipe, and they sit for a while, talking aimlessly. After a minute and a half or so Minako gets out a laptop from her backpack.

Reality shifts.

I can see myself, like I'm in an out-of-body experience or something of that nature. I'm smoking more marijuana, with Makoto. I think I'm seeing how Ami started. The other Makoto and Ami. The clones. All of them, in fact. Makoto, then Minako, then me.

But why? What purpose would a vision of this serve?

They're in Makoto's apartment again. They both move from the living room to the bedroom, and as they walk in the doorway Ami says something and flops down on the bed. Makoto starts creeping up to the bed, almost like Ami's her prey, and pounces on her.

Reality shifts. Good thing. I muse. Probably how her and my clone got started as lovers.

The Hikawa shrine now. Rei's smoking now.

Minako, Makoto and I are there also. We're pretty baked already, and Rei's starting as well. They start talking about something, but I still can't hear them at all.

Reality shifts.

What the...

The universe has split in two. On my left is still the Shrine, but on my right Makoto's apartment's there again. At the shrine it's just Rei and Usagi; at Makoto's it's the five of us. At Mako's, everyone starts cheering Usagi on. At the Shrine, Usagi's storming out of the shrine and down the steps. What? Did she not want to try it?

Reality shifts.

Back to the shrine. Just one universe, possibly the left one from the last time. Usagi is taking a hit off of a ruby-red pipe-Rei's, I assume. Now Rei's being passed the pipe, and she takes a hit. A few seconds later she tries to lean back but the bench she's sitting on has no back. Usagi, in a rare feat of reflexes and athleticism, especially considering that she's in the middle of being stoned, catches her.

Reality shifts.

Someone is sitting at his computer. I don't think I've seen him before, but he seems... familiar. But he's definitely baked. No red eyes, just his whole body language just screams high. He's got a light-green T- shirt-almost like Raynor's green, but a little darker-and jeans on. He's also wearing glasses. He puts a floppy into his computer, saves whatever he was working on, then mumbles something to himself. Then a flash of light illuminates the room, and Setsuna appears.

¯¯¯---

I awake with a short scream, still stoned. I try to shake the cobwebs out to figure out what made me so scared in my dream. I glance at the clock. 4:20. International Stoner Time.

They say it started with a couple of college students in the states. Every day at 4:20 they'd meet by a tree in an out-of-the-way location, one where nobody went, to smoke up. The time just stuck, and now they say it's good luck to hit a pipe or smoke inhalation device of choice at 4:20. It's gotten so big April 20th, or 4/20 if you convert the month into a number, is an unofficial Cannabis day.

Another wave of this buzzy feeling washes over me, blocking out my memory. The 9-Volt battery died.

...What was I thinking about before?

Nope. Not coming to me at all. Probably not important, anyway.

My memory's dead, but not my thoughts, however, as I lay back in bed. Why did we have to meet up with this evil twin dimension? I think sadly.

Any answer would only be a theory. Another part answers.

It's not fair. It's not. Makoto shouldn't be on the verge of an overdose.

Normally a red flag would be going up about now. I mean, how normal is it to have conversations with oneself? But for whatever reason I'm not alarmed.

And all because you were late. The second part of my mind replies.

It seems almost like my left brain, the logical one, is talking with my right, the creative one. Which one is which, I wonder? I guess the one that just thought was my left.

...Yeah, I guess it is because I was late... My right brain agrees reluctantly.

Tears start to flow. I suddenly feel a large pang of guilt hit me in my stomach so hard it feels like a tangible thing. My mouth feels like a desert.

Another wave of this buzzy feeling floods my senses temporarily, and when it's done I can't remember what I was thinking about, but I do feel really guilty about it, whatever it was.

How can you live with that? a part of my mind says, bringing back the memory of the last minute.

More tears. How can I live with that knowledge? To know how badly I've betrayed Makoto, if I only was a little more careful...

One thought pierces its way through the swarm of bee-like thoughts entering and leaving the hive of my head, like the Queen parting the brain activity sea.

I can't live with that.

I walk back to the replicator. "Razor blade." I whisper. The replicator creates one.

I pause. That was too easy. I mean, you don't order razor blades normally, you'd order the whole thing, wouldn't you?

Another wave of this buzzy feeling.

What was I talking about before?

I puzzle at what I was doing until the cold metal in my hand makes me remember. I walk back to the bed and sit down. I can't do this.

You have to. It's the only way to apologize to Makoto, because she's dying and it's all your fault.

Five seconds later, my scream pierces through the air and bounces off the walls. Warmth floods my senses as a river of blood travels down my arm and splits off into two streams around my elbow, rejoins at the bottom and drips down onto my leg.

Five more seconds. Another scream. Another river.

¯¯¯---

"I lay dying and I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal... I'm
dying, praying, bleeding and screaming... am I too lost to be saved...
am I too lost?"

¯¯¯---

I lie down again, now fully awake because of the adrenaline the cuts forced into my system. My left arm is at my side, my right hanging off of the bed from the forearm down. I let the razor in my right hand slip and fall to the ground. Soon after I hear the drip, drip, drip of the blood leaving my body and falling to the ground, some bouncing off the razor.

¯¯¯---

"My wounds cry for the grave... my soul cries for deliverance...
will I be denied Christ... Tourniquet... my suicide..."

¯¯¯---

I bring my right arm back and rest both hands on my stomach, like Makoto did. The blood is still flowing and seeping through the cotton of my light blue pajamas easily. Not long now...

The edges of my peripheral vision blur. The ceiling's tile pattern blends and fades. Everything goes grey.

I feel... it's like something just left me. I turn my head and look at the floor, where a black mass has formed and is making its way to the door. The Confusion card... I let myself be tricked.

Confusion seems to turn back to face me.

And now you're going to die for it.

Bright lights fill my vision. I'm... cold. My metabolism is slowing down.

One of the lights is larger than the others, and is a light green. Reminds me of Makoto... I muse. I'll be joining her soon.

Sooner than I thought, some part of my brain says as the green light forms into a ghost version of Makoto. "Oh... Ami... why?" She asks, sad.

"My fault you're dead... can't live with that..." I whisper. "Coming... to join you..."

"Not if I can help it you're not." Makoto says. Voice... tone of finality.

Losing grip... reality. Can't argue. Too late to argue.

Eyes close. Dark. Dark and cold. Like a cave. Scared. Too dark. No flashlight. Can't see.

Feels... tight. Rock slide? Both arms-trapped. Can't move. Can't scream. Can't breathe. No help. Trapped.

Tired. So... tired.

Mako.

Friend.

Join you...

...Soon... soon...

¯¯¯--- ¯¯¯--- ¯¯¯---

I start my journey back to my body. I hope I wasn't too late. I see medics rush down the corridor, some even going through me, as I go back to sickbay. One... the one who gave his name, though I didn't catch it, actually stopped for a half a second to look over the hallway again, as if he felt me when he went through me, but then goes off to Ami's quarters.

I'm guessing you want to know why I'm walking around as a spirit when by all accounts I should be with my corporeal self in Sickbay.

Something called me out of my body. Call it a link between her and I. Call it whatever you wish, really, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I was able to help her. When I got to Ami's quarters, I saw her lying there, her pajamas and the bed covered in her blood. I took the drawstring from her pajama bottoms and cut it-somehow, I'm not sure, all I know is suddenly I was thinking it needed to be in two and there it was-and fashioned two tourniquets on each of her arms to stop the blood flowing as freely as she probably would have liked. Please let there still be time for her. I have to pull through, and she has to pull through.

I get to sickbay and enter back into my body. All I have to do now is wait. And waiting is something I was never very good at doing.

I wish I still felt stoned. It would probably make it easier to wait.

It would definitely make it easier.

I wonder idly why I don't feel stoned as I shift dimensions again, but give up guessing after a while. After all, any answer wouldd only be a theory.