Fan Fiction ❯ Chosen ❯ Yuriko ( Chapter 4 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Chosen...
Author: Byakko Rei


Chapter 4
Yuriko

Yuriko's eyes cracked open as a putrid odor filled her nostrils. Her stomach lurched threateningly as she slowly lifted her head to take in her surroundings. It was the cool dark that early morning brought before daybreak and a damp mist hung in the air which entrapped the stench from uncollected garbage. She was lying on her back in a narrow ally made of cobblestone and she could just make out a single diffuse point of light that glowed dimly from the street corner. Yuriko became aware of her acute hunger and nausea all at once. Her head pounded dizzily as she sat up weakly.

She blinked as her eyes focused on the shadowy form of someone slumped against the rotting wooden door of a dilapidated row house. As she crawled closer, a rat scurried away. She could see, now, that the indigent person was a man in a threadbare dark coat and torn trousers. His thin legs were sprawled spread eagle over the stone stoop and his feet, which sported shoes with gaping holes, fell limply onto the cobblestones. A paper sack with a green bottleneck exposed, was clutched loosely in the bony fingers of his thin hand. A filthy, wide-brim, felt hat was angled partially over his closed eyes and dried red wine mixed with spittle fused gray hairs together on his matted beard.

The closer Yuriko got to the man, the more offensive his body odor became. She reached two trembling fingers up to his carotid and promptly threw up. He was dead. Yuriko choked on a sob as she lurched to her feet and stumbled away from the corpse. She looked upon him with pity one last time, then began to run blindly through the ally ways as she heard the faint sound of a siren approach the area.

Yuriko tired quickly from the lack of nourishment and began to walk towards, what she perceived to be, the bright lights of a city. She hoped to find out where she was there, so she could find her way back to Midori and her other friends. Her body seemed to move like she was in thick molasses and it was daylight by the time she finally arrived at a street with small shops along it. The doors to each of the shops had locked metal gates in front of them and all of the windows were barred. She could smell a bakery nearby and let her nose lead the way....

Yuriko jumped as sudden shrieks from a catfight nearby startled her. She stared numbly at the cats as they fought over a single, small, dead mouse, then glanced up at a sign that hung over the door she happened to stop in front of. In fading red letters it proclaimed: NEW YORK'S FINEST BAGELS! Yuriko swooned, but was caught by a pair of well-padded arms before she could make contact with the sidewalk.

When Yuriko came to her senses, she found that her head and shoulders were slumped over a light green formica table top that was chipped around the edges. She was seated on a forest green bench which, judging from the amount of cracks in the vinyl, had seen better years.

The plump baker huffed noisily over to her when she moaned softly. "Well, girlie, in spite of what you are wearing, you don't seem like your average homeless bum or hooker. Just an unfortunate. Tell you what... go clean up in the restroom and I'll let you bake for me until I think you've earned the right to eat." The proprietor grinned, exposing his full set of crooked, stained teeth. "You can call me... 'Sir'!"

Yuriko studied the man's sallow features and the sparse black strands of hair that were greased across his balding head. It took her a few seconds to process what the baker meant in Japanese, then she nodded gratefully and replied respectfully in English, "Yes, sir... and thank you, sir!"

Yuriko baked for the man the entire day and was offered a single plain bagel for her labor after closing time. She left the man's small shop eating the bread slowly. She wanted to make the bagel last, since she didn't know when she would be able to eat again. She also knew that if she ate it quickly her stomach, not used to food, would revolt.

She wandered listlessly through New York City's streets and kept her eyes peeled for blinking neon, carnival-type, lights typical of night clubs. With any luck, one of the clubs might allow her to sing for a tip. She glanced in despair at her filthy, tattered jeans and tee-shirt; she was a despicable mess.

Yuriko spent the evening either being turned down flatly, or dodging glass beer bottles that were smashed loudly against the wall behind her before tinkling to the floor. She had heard boos, jeers, and rowdy laughter well into the small hours of the morning... and had not a dime to show for her effort. Giving up for the night, she lay wearily down in front of the bagel shop to sleep.

After a while, Yuriko began to lose track of the days spent in the circular existence of working for a single bagel with water, searching for a big break and rejection. Her self respect was gone, and the utter hopelessness that seemed to pursue her relentlessly, gnawed away at her soul.

Yuriko had gone a different direction each night she went out to hunt for a singing job. On this night, as she passed a dark one-way street, she heard screams from a woman. It looked as though a gang bang was underway. The woman screamed again and Yuriko could have sworn it was Midori's voice. Impossible.

Yuriko's heart caught in her throat momentarily, then the night air filled with her own screams for help as she ran, heedless of her own safety, to her beloved. The gang broke up and shoved Yuriko roughly aside as some police officers charged in from the other end of the ally with their long flash lights bobbing.

Perhaps the cops were so intent on pursuing their young quarry of hoodlums they hadn't noticed the two people left behind, or maybe they were just used to seeing harmless bums laying about in darkened alleys and ignored them as a general rule. For whichever reason, not one of them stopped to check on their welfare.

Yuriko faced Midori, then placing her hands on her lover's shoulders, quickly straddled her knees around the prone hips while repeating the author's name desperately. Her love, terrified beyond all sense of reasoning, reacted as though she hadn't heard her. When she extended a hand to caress the tear streaked face, Midori screamed and fought it off. When Yuriko tried to explain who she was, her mate became more agitated, shrieking that Yuriko was dead... and if she *were* still alive, she never wanted to see her again.

Yuriko felt her heart twist in her chest until it shattered. She couldn't seem to breathe anymore, and as she gripped Midori's collar into her fists, she felt a long, sharp blade pierce her side. Yuriko welcomed its mortal bite, and as the color faded from her world, she noted that the knife's deed was not nearly as painful as rejection from the woman whom she now knew meant more to her than life itself....


To be continued....