Abigail Fredrickson

Tigress

Hollow.  That’s the only word I can come up with to describe what I’m feeling in this moment.  After the panic wore off, grief set in, and I’ve spent about ten minutes just trying to keep from crying, then rage took over, and I ended up mutilating a tree, and now…well, once all that was over, this happened.  Just sitting next to a severely damaged tree that probably didn’t deserve it, staring blankly into space, and actually feeling absolutely nothing.  I don’t think even my sense of touch is working right now, or at any rate I can’t feel grass tickling my legs or fingers.  I’m aware of the wind because I’m aware of the soft pressure on my head, but I can’t feel it.  I’m not sure how warm or cool the air is.  Sounds are somehow both painfully loud and so muffled it’s like I’m underwater.  And even though my eyes are open, and I’m not blinking, I’m not actually seeing whatever’s in front of me.

That’s only the outside.  On the inside, I feel completely empty and numb, like my skin is just a shell covering up a bit of space.  I wouldn’t be able to say for certain that my heart is actually beating if it wasn’t for the fact that I’m alive, so it probably is.

In my mind, I keep replaying what happened in the village.  Absolutely no one knew who I am, or at least who I used to be.  As if Sheranee never existed.  Maybe she never did.  After all, not even my own family remembered.  The people who taught me that family comes before yourself, before your friends, before almost anything.  The people who claimed family is supposed to stick together and always be there for each other, even from a distance.  I half wish I could use their words against them, but they probably don’t even remember saying them, and as far as they know, I’m just a monster.  Even my best friend called me a monster.

The image of his face completely taken over by pure fear and hatred keeps springing to mind as his words echo through my head, mingling with Saber Damien’s as they claim the same thing, ‘You’re a monster’.  Even my own best friend thinks so.  Even if he doesn’t remember that’s who he is to me.

I’m not a monster, I try to reply to their voices as defiantly as before, but this time my voice sounds weak and false in comparison to theirs, I’m not a monster…  The images of blood on my hands, dead bodies lying in the sand, Saber’s pleased, even gleeful expression each time another fell, shining black claws slashing through the air all play through my head to the sound of the voices repeating in my head ‘You’re a monster’.

One hundred and one people.  I’ve killed one hundred and one people, and for what?  What do I have to show for it?  Absolutely nothing.

I’m not a monster… my voice distantly protests.  But the words ring hollow now.  Cause now I realize that…all this time, they were false.  I really am a monster.

Leaves crackle behind me.  I don’t bother turning my head when Rowan sits next to me.

“What happened back there?” he asks me softly.

My voice seems distant to my earshot as I reply emotionlessly, “No one remembers.”

“…oh…”

“It doesn’t matter anyway.  It’s better this way.”  They’re better off without me, goes left unsaid.  I stand up, “You should head to your village.  You don’t have to stay with me.”  It’s better if you don’t.

Rowan stands as well, his brow furrowed, “What about you?”  Why are you like this.

“I’ll just be dodging Saber’s samurai,” I give a loose, uncaring shrug.

“Why don’t you come with me?”

After a short silence in which I reply the question in my mind several times over because Is this guy serious right now-, I give him a look, “What.”

“Come with me,” he repeats, “You shouldn’t have to be alone, you know.  You’d be welcome in Ketsui.”

I just stare at him blankly, “What.”

“Well, why not?”  In this case, I can tell it’s not a rhetorical question.

“I’m a monster, Rowan.”  Rowan’s mouth opens slightly, blinking rapidly.  I don’t allow him more time to react before I turn and start to walk away.

“Ti-Tigress, wait-”  Rowan’s hand grasps my shoulder and he steps in front of me.  “What are you-  What are you talking about?”

“Did I stutter?  I think you know what I said, boy,” I shrug his hand off my shoulder.

“You’re not a monster-” he starts, gripping both my shoulders this time.

I cut him off, looking him dead in the eye, “Can you stand here in front of me, look me in the eye, and truthfully say that you have never once thought me a monster?”

He starts to speak, then falters.  I continue to hold his gaze until it drops.  I scoff, shrugging him off and pushing past, “That’s what I thought.”

“No, Tigress-” his hand grabs my wrist as he starts to protest again.

I turn halfway, jerking my fist upward and giving him a steely look, “What.  Is.  It?”

“That was before I knew what y- who you were,” he frowns, not backing down (Seriously, why are you like this-).  “Before I’d seen you for all I knew from rumors was that you might’ve been a three-headed dog!  But you’re not, you’re human and you’re not a monster.  You don’t kill for the fun of it!”

“What if I do?” I snarl at him, baring my teeth.

“Do you?” Rowan’s eyes bore into mine.

I don’t answer.

“You have nothing to lose by coming to my village,” he points out (Incorrectly).  “Tigress, no one should be alone.  Not like that.”

“What, as an outlaw?” I scoff.  “As soon as I ran away that’s essentially what I became.  You’re one yourself.  Why point it out now?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies softly, still keeping eye contact, and this guy is really getting on my nerves.

“Then what may I ask, did you mean?” I snap.  This is a waste of time for both of us.

“I meant that no one should be alone, believing themselves…a…well…” he gestures.  So why am I still here?

“A monster?” I bark a dry laugh, Because he’d just follow me.  “And what if it’s true?”  You can floor him in five seconds or under.

“It’s not,” Rowan stresses.  So why are you still here?  “Come on, please.  Even if I can’t convince you about this, just think about it.  You’re not a monster, Tigress, and you shouldn’t be alone thinking you are one.  You’ll drive yourself insane.”  His eyes practically radiate concern that something inside of me shrinks away from.  I ignore the tiny voice responding to my internal debate that it’s because I really don’t want to be alone.  Because it’s wrong.  I’m better off alone and everyone else is better off without me.  It’s better for everyone that way.  That way I can’t hurt anyone.

“Tigress, please,” Rowan lowers my fist that’s still between us.  I’m not actually considering it.  I shouldn’t be.  Just turn and walk away.  It’s better.  It’s safer.  No one can get hurt that way.

Instead I find myself giving him a subtle nod.  His face brightens in relief–which by all accounts makes absolutely no sense, this guy is completely nuts–and he turns slightly, waiting for me to follow him.

I do, externally, detachedly.  Internally I’m giving myself a strong tongue lashing and planning what to do next.  We go to his village, I indulge him in that at least, but that’s it.  I’ll leave as soon as it’s clear that it’s better, and it won’t be long before that’s obvious to him.

Rowan

Tigress agreed to come with, but it’s like she’s even more distant than she was at the start.  She refuses to talk at all, and I sense that if I’m not careful then something might snap, and she’ll let out the torrential storm brewing inside her.  And even though I can see her obvious irritation on the surface of her eyes, what really scares me is that behind it, there’s no fire.  There’s no coldness.  There’s absolutely nothing.

I just hope I’m doing the right thing.  Under other circumstances, I probably would’ve deemed it wiser to let her have some time to herself, I mean, she just learned that absolutely no one from her old life even remembers her, she would need some time.  But then she mentioned the thing about being a monster and…well, there is no way that could have turned out even remotely okay.

I silently pray for wisdom for myself and help for her.

We continue to trudge through the forest in silence until it begins to get too dark.  Then we find a more sheltered spot and settle down for the night.  I insist on taking first watch (despite the fact she stays up anyway), worried that she might slip off.  When it’s her turn, I keep pinching myself to stay awake, just in case.  She doesn’t do anything except sit with folded arms, staring impassively at the sky all night.

Come morning, she doesn’t give any hints, but I sense she knows I’d stayed up all night.  We eat the last of the dried fruit and meat as we continue on the way, but this time I don’t try to attempt a conversation with her.  I can tell that while it wouldn’t be welcome as usual, it would also be unwelcome in a different way.  So I let her be and instead use my talkative energy to pray for her.

Nearing the day’s end, I know we’re close to my village.  I can recognize the forest easily now, the position of the trees so ingrained into my memory I could probably walk around blindfolded without tripping or bumping into things.

Tigress raises her chin slightly, sniffing.  She blinks, her visible brow lowering.

Then I smell it too.

Smoke.