Chapter Eleven Sen #2
“Just go,” she hissed at him. “I won’t do anything again, I won’t…”
“I’ll talk to them,” Sen said. “Just listen—”
Rui grabbed the boat-pole from beside the dock and lunged at him, but Sen quickly knocked it out of her hand, twisting sideways, and as she reached for it, he leaped onto her back, wrenching her into the freezing dirt and kneeling on her to prevent her from moving.
“How… how did you do that?” she gasped.
“You can’t keep doing this,” Sen said. “They’ll hunt you.”
“I don’t care!” Rui fought him, trying to break free.
“Listen to me! What do you think they’ll do if you get away? What about the outvillage, what about Koroku and Otsu, and Goro? What about them?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“No’in are subject to collective punishment!” Sen tried to catch his breath. “What do you think is gonna happen?”
Rui paused. It was clear that this affected her, but she was too worked up to admit it. She tried to ignore it, shoving away and trying to get around him once more.
Sen kicked out with one leg, tripping her, and a forceful shove sent her flying into the water.
When she rose, he grabbed her in a bear hug again, locked his ankles around hers so she couldn’t move, no matter how she fought, no matter how she tried to wriggle away.
She jerked repeatedly, but he held fast, wrestling her arms to her sides, under his own.
Freezing, sandy pond-water soaked their clothes.
“Rui, listen to me,” he said. “Let me help you.”
Before long, Rui was just thrashing on the ground, as she tried to push him away, pent-up fear coming out all at once.
“Don’t,” Sen said, holding her. “Rui, listen to me. Listen, I know. I know you hate them. I know you hate them—”
“Damn it.” Rui lashed at him like a mountain lion against a wall.
“Rui, stop!”
But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She punched and kicked until her hand was bleeding, scraping against him, the sand, the dock. She’s going to keep doing this until it kills her. “Rui, you have to stop!”
He wrestled her arms to her sides, under his own.
“I can’t let you hurt yourself,” he said. “Let me help you.”
“I don’t want your help!” Rui screamed. “Get away from me!”
“I’m not gonna do that,” Sen said. Rui couldn’t move. She hissed a breath, twisting and bucking her legs, but she was trapped. She was starting to pant. “Rui. Calm down! I’m sorry. I’m here. Just stay here, stay here, Rui. You’re safe.”
“Stop it!” she shouted. “You don’t understand – you have to stop!”
“I can’t do that,” Sen said. He could feel the breath in Rui’s chest, her soaked clothes, icy wet.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, but weakly this time.
Sen held her firm. Looking in her eyes. “Why?”
“You don’t know what it’s like,” she said.
But Sen just held her tight. He could feel his breath on the back of her ear, smell her sweat, her skin, and he was determined to hold her like that for as long as it took, and by the time Rui calmed down, it felt like, actually, he did.
“Why did you help me?” she asked him, quietly.
Sen said, softly, “Gods. Don’t you know?”
They stayed there, Sen wrapped around Rui like a bear, arms crossed over Rui’s own, pressing her into a ball, a curled child, like an unborn thing who hadn’t seen the world.
He held her and could feel her fear through her body, his breath on her neck, her head pressing against his, his chin hooked over her shoulder, her cheek to his own.
Then somehow Rui had stopped moving, stopped fighting.
And Sen felt something else instead, something closer to the heart.
“I can’t,” she gasped. “I can’t…”
“You’re all right, Rui,” Sen whispered. “You’re all right. It’s not your fault.”
Rui struggled again, but her heart wasn’t in it. “Yes, it is,” she said, quietly.
“Remember. This isn’t what happened then. This is now.” Sen clasped his hands over hers, almost like an embrace. “This is now.”
“I can’t…”
“This is now,” he said again. “This is now.” Both hands, gently, on hers. They breathed together. Face to face, skin to skin. The air had calmed. Rui didn’t pull away. Her body didn’t fight. Not anymore. Instead, there was something calmer. Something changed.
“This is now,” Sen said. This. This. “You’re all right. You’ll be all right.”
Finally, Rui relented. She gave a tiny nod, and he released her. They moved to a seated position, facing each other on the sand. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes.
“You fight like no one I’ve ever seen,” she said.
“I’ve had a lot of training. You’re stronger than me. With a teacher, you’d beat me every time.”
Rui was shivering heavily, the water already starting to stiffen and freeze on her clothes.
“We have to get you out of those,” Sen said, reaching for her. But the moment his hand landed on her shoulder, she jerked on instinct and spun away.
“Don’t touch me!”
“All right! All right. What do you want?”
Rui couldn’t help it. She was starting to cry. She held her arms around herself, looked at nothing but the mirrored pond. At the far end, birds had taken to the sky over the tips of the snow-covered branches, and their small black shapes darted into the expanse of darkness above.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” she whispered.
Sen sighed. “I know. Hakaru was being an ass, they told me.”
“They’re gonna kill me.” Rui said it like a prayer, a prophecy foretold.
“Listen—” Sen began.
“They’ll never forgive me.” She was quiet now. She sniffled, and it turned into a racking cough. “I can’t stop,” she said, shaking.
Sen leaned heavily on the mud beside her, trying to catch his breath.
His chest and abdomen were aching. He couldn’t make a fist. His body felt like it was on fire.
The wind caressed them, blowing ripples across the glassy water and the pebbles on the shore.
He felt like he could feel everything. Hearing the blood as it roared in his ears.
“That’s it,” Rui mumbled. Sen almost couldn’t hear what she said. “I didn’t mean. I didn’t. I killed him.”
“Rui,” he said.
“They’ll kill me,” she said again. And then again. “That’s all it is. It’s just what it is.”
“Rui, listen,” Sen began, but at that moment, shouts and whistles rose from somewhere in the woods, and Rui flinched and pulled away, and panic flared over her features, sharp and cold as the water that soaked her clothes.
“What did you do?” she hissed.
“Nothing…”
“What did you do?” They were getting closer now. Men with torches. Dogs. Hakaru’s hunters.
“Get away,” she raged, pulling back from him.
“Rui, wait—”
“I said get away!”
She shoved her way up the slope, and when Sen tried to grab for her again, she spun and twisted his arm, sending him tumbling. He landed hard on the rocks and exposed roots and hissed a curse.
“I’m trying to help you!”
“I don’t want your help!” Rui shouted. She scrambled to the treeline, running, and disappeared into the leaves.