Self-Incineration by ViperInferno

Part V

Self-Incineration
By Viper Inferno
Part V
 
The next day was no better...
 
A beam of sunlight prompted me to open my eyes. Dawn had arrived. I knew it because whenever I didn’t set my alarm, it was a beam of sunlight summoned by the dawn that gave me my wake up call. But when I glanced up from my folded arms, I discovered that I was still in my kitchen. Craning my head toward the counter and stove, I found that the pot I was going to use to reheat the vegetables in was still on the stove. I sprung up as I had suddenly remembered what was happening before my night of terror. Not only was I going to reheat some leftovers, but worst of all, I had turned the gas stove on.
 
So I promptly dashed over to it, with nothing on my mind but an exploding apartment. I grabbed the control knob to turn it off, only to find that it was already off. Relieved, I fell to my knees and let out an audible sigh. However, along with that relief came a bout of confusion. I distinctly remembered turning the stove on right before my waking nightmare. If I did, then how the hell was it turned off? I might have turned it off during the nightmare, or perhaps in the middle of the night. Then again, other than that horrid nightmare, perhaps I remembered nothing of last night.
 
All of a sudden, a thunderous road from my stomach brought all those thoughts to an abrupt end. My thoughts then shifted to food. I didn’t even get the chance to cook yesterday, thanks to that daimon, so dammit I was hungry. I had to think quickly about what I wanted to eat, or else my stomach was going to scream to everyone on my floor. I didn’t care what I wanted, nor did I care if I had to cook it, as long as I found something to eat.
 
As I went to open my refrigerator, I suddenly remembered that I had taken some vegetables and meatloaf out last night for dinner. So I scurried around my kitchen, looking for the food I had left out. I certainly wasn’t going to eat any of it, having let it sit out all night to spoil. I searched my counters, my sink, and my stove, a task made easy by my rather spotless kitchen which I was always keeping up. And spotless they remained, as I couldn’t find the vegetables or the meatloaf. How were they missing? I remembered taking them out of my refrigerator last night as clear as day, right before my terrifying ordeal.
 
My stomach growled at me again, forcing me to give up pondering that enigma. So I went back to my refrigerator and casually opened the door, only to discover my meatloaf and vegetables resting inside. I immediately took them out of the refrigerator and smelled them. They smelled of gourmet meatloaf and fresh vegetables to me, which was very relieving to both me and my angry stomach. But how did they end up back in the fridge?
 
I quickly shook that question from my mind as I shut the door and took my meal to the counter next to my stove. Meatloaf and fresh vegetables, they really made for quite an odd breakfast, but I was too hungry to care.
 
The first thing I did was set my oven to a suitable temperature for reheating the meatloaf. As I turned the knob, I suddenly had the feeling that I had set it to that exact temperature before. I closed my eyes, wondering where this sense of déjà vu was coming from and why I was having it. “Couldn’t be,” I said to myself as I went back to the task at hand. I grasped the pot on the stove, only to find that it still had the water in it from last night. So I poured it out in the sink and replaced it with fresh water, not wanting to use old water from last night to boil vegetables. I then knelt down before the stove, my eyes level with the empty burner, and turned the knob to ignite it.
 
As the igniter ticked, my entire kitchen suddenly flashed as a large flame shot out of the burner, prompting me to jump backward into the wall.
 
“Jesus Christ,” I exclaimed, clutching my chest and breathing heavily as my heart pounded away at my chest. I looked back toward my stove, expecting to see my kitchen ablaze. However, all I saw was a flame extending nearly half a meter from the burner.
 
“Damn, I better call my uncle sometime and get that fixed,” I said to myself as I walked back to my stove and turned the burner down to a more descent level. That damned stove had given me one hell of a jolt. I seriously thought that it was going to set my apartment on fire. But honestly, it was something more sinister that I had thought afterward. It very well could’ve been a repeat of my waking nightmare last night. It could’ve put me back inside of that doomed airliner, forcing me to watch as everyone on board burned alive. And that scenario was the reason my heart was still pounding away at my chest, even as the water in the pot was just coming to a boil.
 
Thank God it didn’t come to that. So I brushed it off as I placed the meatloaf in the oven to reheat. But merely brushing it off wasn’t doing me very much good, because even when I was cutting up the vegetables and placing them in the boiling water, many thoughts about last night weighed heavily on my mind. Not even cooking, my favorite hobby, could keep me refuge from these thoughts.
 
 
 
Later that morning, after quelling my angry stomach with a gourmet, albeit leftover, meatloaf and fresh boiled vegetables, I had decided to lie on my couch since Rei didn’t have a study session scheduled for us today. While lying on the couch, I could let all the thoughts flow through my mind. I could let myself ponder everything that had happened last night, and try to explain the mysteries of this morning. After such a horrifying experience last night, after vividly remembering what I was doing beforehand, this morning’s discoveries had left me completely baffled.
 
First, I had discovered that my stove was turned off. I had distinctly remembered turning it on last night, since my burner was what had summoned that awful vision of my apartment burning all around me. And worst of all, it had summoned that goddamn daimon... to my home, nonetheless. So of course I remembered turning the stove on. I also remembered turning my oven on to reheat the meatloaf. Yet, when I awoke from my nightmare, they were both turned off. If that wasn’t enough, I remembered taking the meatloaf and vegetables out of the fridge so I could properly prepare them before cooking them. And when I awoke, they had somehow ended up back in the fridge. How the hell was that possible?
 
And so there I lie with that mystery on my mind, attempting to explain these happenings. I could’ve turned off my stove at literally any time. I could’ve woken up in the middle of the night and turned it off.  However, if that was true, then I wouldn’t have woken up still cowered in the corner with my face buried in my crossed arms against my knees. I could’ve turned it off immediately after my stove flashed. It was the most logical explanation for why my stove was off, but it still left me baffled as to why my oven was also turned off, unless I turned them both off out of instinct.
 
As for the vegetables, I really couldn’t explain how they ended up back in the refrigerator. I couldn’t have done it during my waking nightmare, especially since all I had seen was my burning apartment and the inside of the doomed airliner. It all had left me too terrified to do anything. So the only explanation I came up with, however unlikely, was that I had to have woken up in the middle of the night and put the meatloaf and vegetables back. I just didn’t remember it.
 
Suddenly, the telephone rang, effectively ending my quest to solve this mystery. On the second ring, I pushed myself back upright in my couch. By the third ring, I had finally gotten myself up and begun walking toward the kitchen where my phone was. “Okay, okay, I’m coming,” I said as my phone sounded its fourth ring. Having quickly forgotten about this morning’s enigma, I picked up the phone, wondering who it might me. “Moshi moshi?”
 
“Hello, Kino Makoto-san?” and older man’s voice replied.
 
“Yes, this is Makoto,” I replied.
 
“I am Detective Watanabe with the Greater Tokyo Police Department...” the man said before hesitating.
 
Immediately, a sense of anxiety overcame me. Why would the police be calling me at my house? Had I done something wrong? Did they have some questions for me about some random event? Or was it something to do with my uncle? Then suddenly, I remembered that building fire I had witnessed last week. And worse, I remembered Usagi telling me that I had punched some guy out and ran off. Did that guy go and tell the police? If so, did they have some questions regarding what had happened and why I had punched that guy out? And if that was the case, why were they calling me and not coming over here personally since that was how the police operated. However, all I heard on the phone was silence. Throughout my bout of confusion, I hadn’t even noticed that the detective was hesitating for some odd reason.
 
“I’m very sorry, I’m not very good at this,” he said, still sounding quite hesitant. But why? I was still very anxious, wondering what this detective had to tell me, and more so why he was so reluctant to say it. However, something was telling me that something was wrong, something bad. And it had nothing to do with something I had done. It was trying desperately to get my attention, prompting my heart to beat away at my chest.
 
“Kino-san, I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he began explaining. I knew it, it was something bad. The burning in my guy and my pounding heart had told me so. What was it? What was the bad news?
 
“It’s about your mother and father... they won’t be coming home,” he said, prompting that burning sensation to spread throughout my body.
 
“I know,” I gasped, “They died 7 years ago.”
 
“The plane they were on crashed at the airport last night... nobody made it, not even your parents,” he continued, oblivious to what I wad just gasped. By then, I had felt a couple of tears rolling down my cheeks. Yet, he continued.
 
“Your mother... your father... they’re gone. I’m so sorry, Kino-san.....” I didn’t let him finish, because I had heard it 7 years ago. I had hung up the phone before I could hear more of what I already knew. What the hell was that all about? Why would Detective “What’s-his-name” call me 7 years later to tell me that my parents had perished in a plane crash? Something wasn’t right. But all I could think about was that day, 7 years ago. I had let myself slide down the counter and onto the floor, leaning against the cabinets as the tears slowly shed from my eyes. How could I forget it? How could I forget the police at my door, telling an 8-year-old girl that her parents weren’t coming home, and that it was the plane they flew on that had claimed their lives? So how the hell was I getting a phone call 7 years later saying the exact damn thing? Did Detective “Who’s-its” enjoy hearing me cry? Did he get some kind of pleasure from it?
 
I simply didn’t give a shit anymore why he called, nor did I give a shit that it all somehow didn’t seem right. All that I wanted at that moment was to get the hell away from it. So I ran my forearm across my eyes to dry my tears and locked them away in their prison. I pushed myself back to my feet, grabbed my keys, and made for my door like an evacuee. I opened my door, slid into my black flats, locked my door, and shut it on my way out. I had decided to leave that sadistic detective, the mysteries from this morning, and last night’s nightmare in my apartment to die away. I wanted out of my home and out in the world to burn away the time, letting it all flow out of my system. Perhaps a nice stroll would help me to feel better.
 
 
Juuban Shopping Center, later that afternoon...
 
It was just past noon when I arrived at the shopping center in the Juuban District, not too far from my apartment. The weather, while being a little bit warmer than I was comfortable with, was actually quite pleasant. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, allowing the noon sun to highlight the many colors of the urban landscape. The gentle breeze helped to keep the sun from inflicting any discomfort to the people walking about the shopping center, myself included.
 
Although my lighter attire was perfectly appropriate for the warmer weather, my light green sleeveless button-up allowing the breeze to cool more of my skin, it was the exact same attire I had worn yesterday. I really did not like wearing the same clothes for a second day, especially if I had left my apartment on the first. But I didn’t really have much of a chance to change since my study session yesterday. Everything that had happened since then was either sudden or impromptu. Even my being out here, walking the streets of the Juuban District, was an impulse decision. So I really had no choice but to live with my discontent.
 
Shaking those thoughts from my mind, I found a small clothing store that had some enticing window displays. It was rather funny that I had some displeasing thoughts about clothing, and that it was clothing that had grabbed my attention and sparked my curiosity. So I cautiously walked across the street, after waiting for a few cars to pass, and strolled up to the window of the clothing store.
 
They weren’t exquisite dresses or anything, but they were still some very nice-looking sundresses and house dresses. Sure, I liked the beauty of evening dresses and formal dresses, but these were ones that I could look good in everyday, whether at home, outside, or with my friends. I didn’t wear a lot of dresses, usually wearing slacks or pants, but sometimes I loved to just dress like a real lady. O after gazing at the fine dresses, admiring their fine beauty, and imagining how I’d look wearing them, I turned and continued down the sidewalk. I would’ve loved to have gone in and bought a couple of those dresses, but my allowance wasn’t coming for in another couple of weeks.
 
“It’s what you wanted to be, right?” a voice said to me in my head.
 
“Yeah,” I replied to myself, not even paying much attention to the voice itself. It was exactly what I was thinking about. It’s what I wanted to be for many years, a fine-dressed, beautiful lady. And what girl wouldn’t want to look like a true lady, outside of tomboys? Sure I usually dressed well, but I always had that desire to be an exquisite lady. So I brushed that voice off and continued on my way along the many storefronts.
 
After gazing into a few more storefronts, I had grown bored with window shopping, especially since I didn’t have the extra money to be spending on things I would loved to have bought, no matter how much they beckoned me. Actually, the fact that I didn’t have that much money to spend only made me want to buy all the things I was browsing even more. So I had to find something else to do and quickly, before I surrendered to my desires.
 
And then, after making it to an intersection, I spotted a large opening down the street and to my right. No buildings occupied this space, as it was a large area of grass, trees, benches, and picnic areas surrounding a large lake filled with flocks of ducks and swans. Throughout my round of window shopping, I had not realized that I was walking toward the park. I always loved spending time at the park. Its natural landscape, especially when highlighted by the sunny weather such as today’s, made the park a much more serene environment than the urban jungle. So I decided to turn at that intersection and go to the park.
 
On my way there, I immediately thought about my friends. I thought about them because in recent times, most of the times I had spent at the park were with them. Usagi and Minako both enjoyed taking in the fresh air, away from school, and away from the stresses of life. Even Ami would spend some time here now and then, even if that time was spent in her studies. It was something about the environment of the park, unmolested by the many cars driving about the streets of Tokyo, that made people so carefree in its presence. So perhaps all my cares would go away once I stepped foot in its grassy haven.
 
Once I had stepped onto the grass and into the park, I paused and took in a great breath of fresh air. It was so crisp and clean, so pure, and had such a pleasantly mild aroma, that it would’ve cleansed the souls of anyone who had withstood life’s many trials. Completely relieved after that breath of fresh air, I continued my walks further into the park and began wondering about what to do there.
 
I certainly wasn’t going to sit and relax at one of the many park benches, nor the gazebos, nor the picnic areas. As much as I would’ve loved to have sat and relaxed, my body wanted to remain in motion. And in recent days, it was my body that was winning most of its arguments with my mind. So I had to keep walking. I had to keep my body moving. And since the lake had a paved trail around its entire circumference, it made my decision to walk the trail alongside the lake that much easier.
 
As I was walking the lakeside trail, I took in all the sights and sounds of the park. The most prominent ones were those of all the people, young and old, enjoying themselves and each other. A couple sat on a large picnic throw underneath a nearby tree. A group of high school students were throwing a Frisbee to each other. A group of younger children were scurrying about the park grounds, causing all kinds of ruckus.
 
But what had really gotten my attention on my walk around the lake was a young woman, sitting on one of the benches facing the lake, reading a book. She had long black hair and looked a little bit older than I was, I guess about college-age. As I looked at her, watching her face as it scanned the book she was reading, seemingly oblivious to all else, she immediately reminded me of Ami. Ami was always one of my quieter friends, unlike the very upbeat and energetic Usagi, yet was very dependable and there to lend a helping hand, especially when it came to academics.
 
Those thoughts left a warm feeling in my chest and face as I passed the woman by and continued on my walk. And after an hour of walking around the lake on this warm summer day, that warm feeling had crept its way to my skin and prompted me to break a sweat. Even with the gentle breeze keeping it from being unbearable, it did pull be out of my comfort zone. So I decided that I was done for the day. And with the sun entering the final leg of its westward journey, I turned off the trail and began walking out of the park in the direction of my apartment.
 
 
After a leisurely trip out of the park and through the Juuban Shopping Center, I had made it back to my apartment building just as the sun started to hover above the horizon. I was feeling totally relieved to have been out of my apartment and spending the whole day walking about most of the Juuban District. It had certainly taken a lot of stress, a lot of worries, and a lot of pain and anguish off my mind. But it was time for me to return home and back to my favorite hobbies of cooking and housecleaning.
 
However, as I stepped off the elevator after having reached my floor, a feeling of unease began stirring in my chest. This struck me as unusual since I didn’t really exert myself on my walk about town. And it wasn’t just a feeling of unease, but also of anxiety as my heart began to pound at my chest. Then, I realized as I was approaching my apartment that my body was reminding me of both last night’s and this morning’s events were what had prompted me to spend the day out and about the Juuban District to begin with.
 
Once at my door, my heart beat harder against my chest, anxious over what other misery might’ve been waiting for me on the other side. With my trembling hand, I slid my key into the lock and turned the knob, then hesitated. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, preparing me for whatever my gut intuition was warning me about. I then threw my door open and opened my eyes, only to find an empty, serene apartment. I let out a heavy sigh of relief and walked inside, slipping out of my flats at the door.
 
Nothing had happened, so why did I feel so uneasy when I neared home? I sat on my couch and pondered that feeling. But as I had just begun to settle, I noticed a flashing red light on my answering machine. ‘I have messages,’ I thought to myself as I stood from my couch and walked to my kitchen. I figured they were probably from Rei or Usagi, wondering if I had made it home safe and sound and if I was feeling any better. So I pressed the play button on my answering machine and listened.
 
“Hello, Kino Makoto-san. This is Detective Watanabe with the Greater Tokyo Police Department. There was an accident last night involving your parents and we need you to...”
 
“What the hell?!” I exclaimed. Why the hell was that same detective calling me again? Didn’t he get his message across this morning when he called me?
 
“Your mother... your father...they’re gone. I’m so...”
 
“Enough, damn you,” I yelled as I stabbed the delete button to delete that god-awful message. Why? Why did Detective “Whoever-the-hell-he-is” have to call me again? And why did he have to leave me that message so I could hear those same words that had plagued me for days? Along with those questions came a few tears from my eyes as they rolled down my cheeks. And before the burning in my chest could begin to spread, I tightly shut my eyes. After having squeezed the tears out, I recomposed myself and pressed the play button again to listen to the other message on my machine.
 
“So, you were out and about in town, weren’t you,” a deep voice echoed on the answering machine, seemingly overtaking the voice of a young girl in the background. However, I had barely caught the background voice before I realized whose deep voice that was. And that realization only made me tremble and my heart beat faster.
 
“You always loved walking about the park and the shopping districts,” the voice continued on, “But all of it was for nothing. You shop for things you can’t afford. You shop because you want to cover up the fact that you try to be more lady-like. It too is nothing but another mask you wear, a mask to cover up that plane crash and those detective’s words, a mask you wear to run away from it all.”
 
Dammit, how the hell did he know about me going out window shopping? I thought I had left his as when I ran out of my apartment this morning. But it wasn’t like I could argue with my answering machine. And as the message ended, I slid down the cabinets and down to my kitchen floor, as an epiphany had struck me hard. The fact was that I couldn’t dispute what he was saying, my using my window shopping and walks in the park to run away from those horrible memories. It was exactly the reason that I was spending the day out of my apartment in the first place. But in the end, I couldn’t run from it, because that goddamn daimon was waiting for me here. He waited for me to come home feeling better, only to shatter it like glass and flood me with misery all over again.
 
So there I sat, with my face buried in my arms, as these thoughts flooded my mind like the dam had burst. He was right; all my window shopping and my walks in the park were nothing but a mask I wore. I wore it to get away from the burning plane, the detective’s heart-wrenching news, and Mother’s dying screams. And for the first time, that daimon was right. Dammit, that bastard was right.
 
It was the first of many more awakenings to come...
 
The next morning...

I suddenly sprang up from my bed, the swift motion throwing my sheets off of me. I was sweating and breathing quite heavily like I had just run the 400 meters in track. Why had I suddenly waken up like this? Well, I had another dream, the same horrifying dream that I had last week.
 
Once again, I was on board an airplane. Once again, I saw Mother and Father, wearing the same joyful faces they had always worn when they were together. Once again, their joy was shattered as the plane started bouncing and rolling violently. Once again, the plane had burst into flames, consuming the terrified people on board. And once again, I heard Mother scream my name in bloody horror as the plane slammed into the ground, leaving a burning wreak of twisted metal and dead bodies.
 
God, why did I have to dream that horrible nightmare again? Why did I have to witness Mother and Father dying in that plane? And this was all after hearing the police detective telling me that they weren’t coming home. And most of all, it was all after my battle with that Death Busters bastard who knew so much about me, and who continued to torture me with things he knew about me.
 
The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to stay in those thoughts. So I threw my sheets off of me and stood up from my bed. I then quickly shook those negative thoughts from my mind before they could hold me captive.
 
After the usual morning routine, I decided to walk into my kitchen and cook me my own American-style breakfast. Not only did I enjoy cooking the more typical and more formal Japanese breakfasts, but I also enjoyed cooking American, English, French, and even Middle Eastern breakfasts. Why did I learn how to cook so many different kinds of foods from all around the world? Well, when you get to cooking as much as I do, you get tired of cooking the same things time and time again. Plus, I was always looking for new challenges, and foods from other cultures provided those challenges.
 
So I opened my pantry where I kept my breads, flour, and other non-perishables. For an American-style breakfast, I needed some of my breads and especially some flour for both the main course and some rolls to be made from scratch. Next, I went to my refrigerator. From it, I grabbed some milk, butter, eggs, and even some pork sausage and bacon. Americans certainly loved their meat, and I was going to cook this breakfast in the true American fashion.
 
With all the ingredients gathered, I grabbed a couple of frying pans and took them to the stove. As for turning on the stove, recent memories from the last couple of days made me a bit anxious. So I stood at arms length from the stove, shielded my eyes with my arm and hand, and turned the knob to ignite it. I braced myself for the coming flash as soon as it began to tick. Then, I saw nothing, not even a flicker, when I heard the stove ignite. I lowered my hand and unshielded my eyes, only to see a rather ordinary and serene flame.
 
This was certainly different than the half-meter flame from yesterday morning, and struck me as more than unusual. How the hell was my stove acting up like this? I really needed to have my uncle fix it. However, it seemed to be acting completely fine. So with all my breakfast ingredients out and ready to cook, I placed the pans on the burners and began my long cooking ritual.
 
“Such a fine breakfast,” a voice said to me as I began mixing the pancake batter.
 
“Yeah,” I said to myself aloud. It was a fine breakfast, but this particular breakfast was nothing really challenging or even particularly special to me. I had cooked this breakfast probably a hundred times in the last couple years, and it was becoming more and more routine.
 
“But you know you’re only doing it to cover up last night’s dream,” the voice said to me again.
 
I suddenly paused, frozen by the words spoken in my mind. I had no idea where that statement had come from, especially since last night’s dream had already left my mind. So I closed my eyes for a moment, thinking hard on those words. Why had I decided to cook this American-style breakfast, especially one that I had already mastered? The answer came to me like a well-trained dog. “It’s because I was simply hungry,” I said to myself as I opened my eyes.
 
But as I was about to pour some batter onto a frying pan to start the first pancake, the phone began to ring. I hung my head in disappointment, sweat drop hanging and all, as I set the pancake batter down and answered the phone. “Moshi moshi?”
 
“The top story for today, a plane crash at the Haneda Airport,” the voice of a news anchor began, “At about 7:30pm, All Nippon Airways Flight 148 out of Osaka crashed on its final approach, killing all on board...”
 
That was all that I could bear to hear as I slammed the handset onto its cradle. All Nippon Airways, Flight 148: That was the flight Mother and Father were on 7 years ago. With my heart pounding and my hands trembling from hearing that recorded news headline, I closed my eyes as more thoughts from this morning and last night flowed through my mind.
 
As they flowed, I saw it again. I saw everyone in that plane, screaming and panicking as it violently shook, bucked, and rolled. I saw the plane burst into flames, silencing those screams as it burned those people alive.
 
And suddenly, a loud ring broke me from my trance. Everything I was witnessing all over again had disappeared. I glanced toward the origin of that ring and discovered that my egg timer was reading zero. “That’s right, the rolls,” I said to myself. I had to get that phone call off my mind and get back to my cooking. If it weren’t for my egg timer, the rolls would’ve ended up charred as badly as Usagi’s cooking. So I removed the rolls from the oven and set them aside to cool down. And from there, I went back to the pancake batter and poured some onto the frying pan to start on the pancakes.
 
As I continued with preparing the meal, I couldn’t help but to think about last night’s dream. And more so, I couldn’t get that damn news story out of my head. It was ever since that strange call from the detective yesterday that these thoughts kept invading my mind, no matter how much that my paying attention to the pancakes, the sausage, and the bacon had broken me from them. It was like my cooking was having a difficult time keeping my mind off of it.
 
But one thing did break me from both these thoughts and my cooking as the phone rang again. I instinctively walked over to my phone and reached for the handset to answer it. But my hand stopped inches from t as apprehension took over. My last number of phone calls had been far less than pleasant. So of course I was anxious. But by the fifth ring, I acted quickly and snatched the handset before my answering machine could respond. “Yes, moshi moshi?”
 
“Hello Makoto,” a deep voice responded grimly.
 
My eyes popped wide open as I immediately recognized that Death Busters bastard’s voice. And upon that recognition, I quickly slammed my phone back on its cradle to hang up. I was in no mood to listen to whatever he had to say this time, and the burning sensation that was flowing through my extremities only enhanced that bad mood. Here I was, cooking a fine meal like I always loved to do and that daimon had to try and ruin it for me.
 
But before I could think of anything else, the phone started ringing again. And as it rang, my body started to burn even more, only this time fueled by anger. I snatched the phone, wondering who the hell was calling and what the hell they wanted. “What?” I barked into the phone.
 
“Don’t hang up on me again,” the same deep voice snapped right back, quickly calming my anger and fueling my anxiety.
 
“Why are you calling me?” I demanded, my voice wavering slightly.
 
“To show you what you are trying to cover up by cooking,” the daimon replied, “You’re only cooking such a big meal to cover up that dream you had last night.”
 
Those words pierced me, sending shots though my nerves like a stake had been driven through my heart. “No,” I gasped, “That’s not true. I always cook fine meals like this.”
 
“Yes, but you often do it to run away from traumatizing events,” the daimon rebutted, “Just like you’re doing right now.”
 
And just as the daimon had said those words, images began to flash through my mind all at once. I saw the people burning alive on the plane. I saw the plane on the tarmac from our last battle exploding. I saw a news story about the plane crash. I saw the detective at the door with his heart-shattering news. And as those images flashed through my mind, the burning sensation caused my hands to tremble and tears to form in my eyes.
 
“You may have always cooked fine meals, but you use it as a mask to cover up trying to be a tough girl so people would accept you as a normal girl,” the daimon explained, “You not only cover up trying to be tough, but you also cover up that plane crash and every reminder of it. But you can’t run from it forever, Makoto. All your hiding behind your cooking, pretending to be a normal girl, counts for nothing. You’ve lied to yourself so much that it has merely routine to you. And now that routine is becoming a burden.”
 
“Why?” I gasped as his words continued to weigh on me, “Why are you doing this to me?”
 
“Because you make a big deal out of cooking to hide who you really are,” the daimon replied, “And you cook to hide who you pretend to be. You can’t run from it all anymore, Makoto, and your cooking becoming more and more obsessive is proof of that.”
 
“Enough,” I yelled as I slammed the phone back on its cradle. I slid down the counter and to the floor as the tears began to cascade down my cheeks. I immediately threw my face into my arms and burst out crying. That daimon had just insulted my favorite hobby, the think I took the most pride in. The words he had spoken were more than insulting, they were downright belittling. If yesterday’s revelations about my shopping weren’t bad enough, todays had seriously hurt my pride.
 
My tears had stopped shedding, and I glanced up from my arms as more thoughts about the daimon’s words entered my mind. Why did I let my pride take a serious beating just now? Why did it hurt so much? With those questions in mind, I began to think about his words. I have always cooked meals, such as the one I was cooking now, for years. I have always challenged myself with larger meals, multiple-course meals, and even exotic meals. It was my dream to become a great chef and even open my own fine restaurant.
 
However, what was really weighing on we was the fact that I had only started focusing on my cooking skills a few years ago after some of my classmates made fun of me and even avoided me because of my size, strength, and athletic skills. Girls weren’t supposed to be strong, tough, and athletic. Girls were supposed to be great cooks, good housekeepers, and future brides. Sure I used to cook at home a lot before then since I was living alone, but was I really taking up this hobby to look more feminine? Was I really cooking such exquisite meals, whether it was just for me or to impress my friends, to escape the things that were bothering me?
 
It was true that cooking always made me feel better whenever I was feeling down. All the time and energy I had spent on and all the attention I had given to my cooking helped me to take my mind off of anything that was bothering me. Even now, I was cooking a fine traditional American breakfast not only because I was hungry, but also to get my mind off of last night’s awful dream. Once again, that Death Busters bastard was right.
 
That very thought only made me think even deeper into everything he was saying. So I stood back up and gazed at my empty pancake pan and greasy frying pan, both their burners still on. Even my favorite hobby could no longer keep my mind off the dreams, the visions, and the daimon’s words. So why was I doing this?
 
With a little bit of pancake batter and a few strips of bacon left over, I decided to place them in their respective frying pans. And as they began to cook, more thoughts about my cooking entered my mind.
 
It wasn’t that I focused on cooking because the other girls looked down upon me for being so athletic, but I had taken up cooking right after I had moved here after Mother and Father died. And it wasn’t just cooking I was doing, but I was cleaning my apartment as well. Not only did I have to take care of myself, but back then I did it to show everyone, especially my uncle, that I was okay and that I could take care of myself. And back then, it also helped me to take my mind off of things, especially those detective’s words that had forever changed my life. Whenever I wasn’t participating in my martial arts and all my other physical activities, it was my cooking and housecleaning that had often taken my mind off of things and made me feel better.
 
Those thoughts made even more tears fill my eyes. Dammit, that daimon was right. The more I thought about it, the more I started questioning my choice of breakfast. I could’ve easily cooked a much smaller and simpler breakfast to satisfy my hunger. But I decided on this breakfast to try and get my mind off of last night’s dream, and it certainly didn’t do me a hell of a lot of good.
 
Right then, I had lost my desire to cook this breakfast. As I turned the bacon and flipped the pancake, the tears once again cascaded down my cheeks. Am I really lying to myself about wanting to cook such great meals? Why am I obsessing over all this cooking when I do it to get things off my mind and to hide my athleticism? Why do I always look for chores to do around the house even though it was the cleanest in the whole building?
 
The more I thought about it, the more I started to think that I was pursuing the wrong dream. Perhaps I really was lying to myself. Perhaps I did cook fine meals and clean and rearrange my apartment as often as I did to run away from the things that weighed heavily on my mind. And even now, I cook and clean to hide my physical prowess.
 
I really didn’t want to finish my cooking. My whole reason for cooking this kind of meal had just been shattered by that goddamn daimon. And since our battle with him, that time he had shown me everything he knew about me, including my fears, my cooking was becoming more and more of a burden. It was then that I had totally lost my desire to cook fine meals as a hobby, whether it was for me or anyone else.
 
However, my growling stomach had broken me from my thoughts. On top of that, the pancakes and bacon were done cooking. I really didn’t want any of this fine food to go to waste, so I decided to finish cooking this breakfast. I had no company coming over, so I had this big breakfast all to myself. But that was my punishment for using my cooking to hide my strength, and to hide my pain. So I really had no choice but to partake in this breakfast by myself like I usually have. Even so, it did not keep the daimon’s words, the detective’s news, and the peoples’ screams off my mind.
 
But my hobby wasn’t all that I had lost...
 

“Mako-chan!!!”
 
My eyes popped open at the sound of Mother’s voice. Once again, I had that same dream of being inside that doomed airplane. Once again, I saw everyone on board burn alive. And once again, I was woken up by Mother’s dying screams. Damn, this was getting ridiculous.
 
When I opened my eyes, I scanned about my room. Most everything in my room was lit, with the light of the morning sun penetrating my curtains. I then glanced over toward my alarm clock, which read 9:34am. I didn’t remember most of what had happened yesterday. All I remembered was that the breakfast I had labored on lasted me the rest of the day. And without cooking or housecleaning, I had no idea what to do. So after breakfast, the rest of the day was rather blurry.
 
So I rose from my bed and did my morning wake-up routine. Throughout my routine, more thoughts about last night’s dream hit my mind. That had been part of my routine for the last week. I had these nightmares, I saw and heard that daimon, I lived my nightmare, and it stayed on my mind and only made me even more depressed. Unlike the first couple days since our last battle, it was getting harder for me to forget about these dreams. They were no longer in the past; rather they stayed in the present.
 
Suddenly, the phone rang. I did not want to answer it this time. My last number of calls had all been waking nightmares, and I certainly was in no mood to listen to the detective, the news, or that daimon. So I just ignored the call, deciding to let my machine pick it up, and continued with my morning routine.
 
Afterward, I decided to cook only a small breakfast. Having lost the desire to cook such great meals, all I could do was what I should’ve done yesterday, and that was cook only what I needed, nothing too complex, and nothing big. So it was rice and tea, and some of the leftover rolls from yesterday.
 
As I was cooking the rice, a flashing red light on my answering machine caught my attention. ‘So, someone did leave me a message,’ I thought to myself. However, with recent memories of unpleasant calls still fresh on my mind, I didn’t even dare to press the play button. So I merely closed my eyes and let out a discontented sigh, then went back to making the rice. Although it wasn’t much, it was all that a young girl like me needed.
 
It took little time for me to cook the rice over the stove. So when I finished, I took the tea and some of yesterday’s rolls and sat at my coffee table and had my breakfast. It wasn’t a bad breakfast at all, especially since I had mastered cooking rice and brewing tea years ago. So perhaps all my obsessive cooking did have some use. But as I finished my breakfast, I let out another sigh as the daimon’s words reentered my mind, reminding me of why I had decided to stop cooking. So what could I do now that I had stopped cooking and rearranging my house? All I could really do was sit here in my apartment and either read one of my romance novels or watch one of the morning soap operas.
 
So I decided to sit on my couch and find out what was on TV. But as I reached for my remote, the flashing red light on my answering machine once again grabbed my attention. I couldn’t ignore it, because even if I had turned my TV on and focused on it, my answering machine would still be beckoning me from the corner of my eye.
 
So I stood from my couch and walked into my kitchen where my phone and answering machine were. But as I arrived, I only stood there and gazed at the flashing red light on my answering machine. I was almost certain it was another one of those same calls I had been getting the last couple of days, which made me more than apprehensive. However, my gut was telling me that there was something more to this call.
 
I knew it was going to happen, and that flashing red light was going to make sure that I didn’t run away from it. On top of that, my answering machine wouldn’t let me delete any messages until I’ve played them. So I finally decided, nearly 2 hours had passed since my phone rang, to press the play button on my answering machine.
 
“I see you’ve accepted the truth about all your obsessive housecleaning and cooking,” the daimon’s voice said on the tape. As much as I dreaded hearing his voice, I barely made out the mutterings of a young girl in the background. However, the daimon continued, drawing my focus away from the girl in the background. “You’ve accepted that all of your cooking, your housekeeping, and even your dreams of becoming a great chef were nothing but masks you wore to hide the loss of your parents,” the daimon said.
 
And right at that moment, my vision went totally black, and I suddenly felt like I was falling. A split second later, two rows of square light resembling the airliner windows from my recent dream flashed around me. I immediately shut my eyes and vigorously shook my head. “You bastard,” I exclaimed. And then, I stopped falling. I dared not open my eyes, but the daimon still continued.
 
“You’ve accepted that you did it so others wouldn’t pick on you for your size and for how strong you look,” he explained.
 
“Dammit, shut the hell up,” I screamed. Right then, I opened my eyes and ran out of the kitchen and into my room. However, I didn’t feel tears rolling down my cheeks. I was trembling, though. I was trembling because I was angry. I was pissed off at that daimon for telling me those things, and reminding me of just how right he was. I had to get out of here. I had to go someplace other than my apartment where I could vent my frustrations. I didn’t want to go to Usagi’s house, even though it was the first thought that had crossed my mind. With everything I was going through, even after I had talked to her about some of it last week, she’d either think I was crazy or try to sugarcoat it and tell me it was going to be fine, when it certainly wasn’t looking that way.
 
So I went to my dresser and grabbed some workout clothes. I had decided that I was going to go to the gym to work out my frustrations. So without second thought, I took my workout clothes, grabbed my keys, and made for my front door like a bat out of hell. I then slid into some tennis shoes, tied them, and ran out of my hellish apartment.
 
Later on, at the Juuban Gym...
 
After a short jaunt from my apartment and through the Juuban District, I arrived at one of Juuban’s numerous gymnasiums. I had always loved coming to this gym as long as I could remember. It was a place where I could be myself, a place where my size and strength came to excellent use. Hell, I had even drawn the attention of a few admirers. But, it had been months since I last came here. Not only did school and my senshi duties dominate my time, but my cooking and housecleaning did as well.
 
So, having been a while since my last visit and with recent events plaguing me, what better time was there to come back to the gym for a nice workout? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It certainly didn’t cleanse me of my frustrations, but it did get me in the mood for my impending workout. I walked inside and was immediately greeted by the receptionist.
 
“Good Morning, Kino-san. Welcome back,” the young woman greeted.
 
“Good Morning,” I replied rather impassively, waving to her as I walked by. My first stop was the women’s dressing room. There, I wasted no time getting out of my slacks and blouse and into my green t-shirt and pink gym shorts.
 
Once dressed for my workout, I walked out of the dressing room and went into one of the small workout rooms. It was a rather nice area of the gym. These smaller rooms were equipped with a punching bag, a rack of dumbbells, a stair step, and other smaller pieces of equipment. I wasn’t in much of a mood to be drawing a crown, nor was I in the mood to be around the other patrons. So I chose the seclusion of these slammer rooms where I could work out my frustrations out in private.
 
Once inside, I did a number of stretches that I was taught for years in karate class. They were stretching exercises designed to make one extremely limber, not that I wasn’t already. And with me having studied martial arts for years, these exercises had become my normal workout routine.
 
With my blood flowing freely through my veins, enhanced by my earlier adrenaline rush, I stood before the punching bag and closed my eyes. I clasped my hands together and focused all my energy. I focused all my frustrations throughout my body, working to gather them all to a point where I could let it all out in a continuous wave of punches.
 
Suddenly, I was back at the Haneda Airport. Darkness completely surrounded me. And in an instant, one of the planes on the taxiway exploded in a ball of flame, sending a burning sensation throughout my body. My heart began to race, and I opened my eyes and unleashed a barrage of furious punches at the punching bag.
 
After only a few hard punches, the bag swung away from me under the sheer force that I was putting into it. As it swung back toward me, I spun around and struck it with a well-timed roundhouse kick, once again sending it swinging. I then hopped around to where it would come back to me and unleashed another adrenaline-fed combo.
 
I had no idea how long I had kept up my furious onslaught on the punching bag, but after a while I began to sweat. This was rather normal for me, especially since most people who were serious about their workouts came here to break a sweat. But as I started another round of punches, the inside of the burning airplane flashed in my mind.
 
With my heart picking up its pace from that vision, I spun around and slammed the punching bag with a powerful roundhouse kick. I then stopped for a moment, breathing heavily with my heart beating against my chest as I allowed the punching back to swing to a stop. And as it had finally settled from its swing, I suddenly heard people screaming in terror. Then, the inside of the doomed airliner bursting into flames flashed in my mind.
 
“Damn,” I cursed as I unleashed a powerful volley of kicks and punches into the punching bag. I was putting so much fury behind those kicks and punches that I sent the punching back flying as far as its chain would allow. By then, my body was burning from the adrenaline that was fueling my fury. I had lost all concept of time as my sole focus on channeling all my energy into that punching bag.
 
And as I continued, I suddenly and once again saw the inside of that burning plane. The fire was consuming the terrified people as it sped toward me. “Mako-chan!!!” was the last thing I heard before an explosion flashed in my mind. At that instant, my body was trembling. I focused the last of my energy into my right fist and threw it into the punching bag. That last bit of force sent it flying into the ceiling before it swung back down.
 
I just stood there. My heart was slamming into my chest like a sledgehammer. My hands were trembling. My body was burning inside. I couldn’t get that damned dream of that awful plane crash out of my head, no matter how hard I dried. “Goddamn it, why?!” I screamed.
 
“Because you’re lying to yourself,” a deep voice replied.
 
Knowing exactly whose voice that was, I turned around and saw that bastard daimon standing next to the rack of dumbbells.
 
“Such a fighter you are,” he said, “It has given you great strength for a girl your age. Yet, you still contradict yourself. Your aggressive nature came about to hide that trauma you suffered when that detective gave you the news of your parents’ death. With your strength, you hide that trauma and hide the open wound that it left.”
 
I only stood there, my hands still trembling and my body still burning, as the daimon continued.
 
“You know you were traumatized as a child. When that plane crashed, taking your parents away from you, you didn’t know what to do. All that you knew then was that you were all alone,” said the daimon.
 
And at that moment, the plane crash from my dream, with Mother’s dying screams, flashed in my mind. “Kino Makoto-san... I have some terrible news... there was a plane crash last night... your father... your mother... gone... I’m deeply sorry,” were the words that also flashed in my mind. By them the burning sensation had reached my face, and tears had begun streaming down my cheeks.
 
“Dammit, I hate airplanes,” I gasped, “I hate them so damn much.”
 
“All of your ‘tough girl’ charades count for nothing, don’t they?” the daimon beckoned, “Since they died, you tried to be a tough girl so that loss wouldn’t hurt so much. And as you covered that wound, you used it to prove to the world that you could handle being alone. That was why you focused on your martial arts. That was why you worked out. That was why you took up athletics. And that was how you developed your warrior’s pride, wasn’t it?”
 
By then, I had fallen to my knees, with tears still streaming from my eyes. I had no response to everything that he was saying, because now that I look at it, it was all sounding true. That was how I became the tough girl that the other students feared, as if my size alone wasn’t enough.
 
“But now, all your strength and your warrior’s pride can’t even keep that plane crash, the detective’s words, and even your recent dreams off of your mind,” the daimon explained, “Is that proof enough that for all these years, everything that had made you physically strong was nothing but a lie you lived to cover up that trauma?”
 
I had heard enough. I quickly got up and ran out of the workout room, m tears streaming behind me. It was all true. I came here to try to get that awful dream and that daimon’s revelations off my mind. And it was what I had started doing just months after my parents’ funeral. I ran into the women’s dressing room, finding it to be empty. Good. I certainly didn’t want anyone seeing me like this. So I leaned up against my locker as the daimon’s words weighed heavily on my mind.
 
But the burning sensation that had plagued me throughout my entire encounter finally cumulated in my throat. And I slid down my clocker and broke out into a weep. That daimon was right. I only used my strength so that the loss of my parents didn’t hurt so much. And now, even coming here to get away from it like I always have wasn’t doing me any good anymore. Damn, as much as I hated to admit it, that daimon was right. That was when I began to doubt myself.
 
 
Later that day...
 
I had no idea how long I was at the gym. My workout couldn’t have taken that long, but it was when I had run back to the dressing room and taken a shower that I was unclear about. All I knew was that it was sometime in the late afternoon as I was walking home. Perhaps my concept of time was fading. I didn’t know what time it was anymore. I didn’t know how long things had taken anymore. Hell, I didn’t even know what day it was anymore, nor did I really care.
 
After a dreadful walk from the gym, I arrived back at my apartment. It had been a while since my last visit to the gym, and I had decided that it was going to be my last. What was the point? So I opened my door, walked inside, and kicked off my tennis shoes.
 
I had no idea what I wanted to do. I really wasn’t in the mood for much anymore. All of today’s events, yesterday’s events, and even last week’s events were weighing so heavily on my mind that it was all I could think about. So I flopped down onto my couch and thought about everything the daimon had told me.
 
But before I could even think, the phone began to ring. Damn, I wasn’t in the mood for this. I wasn’t in the mood for anymore harassing phone calls. O I jumped up from my couch and stomped over to my kitchen. I snatched the receiver and placed it up to my ear to listen. I may have been upset all day and not in the mood for this, but I was still curious.
 
“So you’ve accepted the truth, haven’t you?” the daimon said over the phone, “You’ve accepted that you’re not the tough girl you pretended to be all these years.”
 
“Dammit, shut up,” I yelled into the phone before slamming it against its cradle. I didn’t want to hear about shit that I already knew. And I was beginning to grow sick and tired of that daimon reminding me of it.
 
But almost as quickly as I had hung up, the phone rang again. That time, I was pissed. “Dammit,” I cursed as I snatched my phone, “What?!”
 
“Mako-chan!!!” a woman’s voice screamed in bloody horror. And at that moment, images of Mother and Father on that plane, with mother screaming my name, flashed in my mind. I suddenly let the receiver fall to the floor as my eyes quickly filled with tears. And as that happened, my body once again burned inside. I let out a furious scream as I grabbed my phone and ripped it from the wall with all my strength, letting it fly across my kitchen and into the wall where it shattered into pieces.
 
I then ran into my room and threw myself onto my bed. There, I once again began to cry. I had lost not only my hobby that I so loved, but I had also lost my pride in my strength and athleticism. And the fact that neither could get my mind off this damned nightmare, and the fact that it just kept coming back no matter how hard I tried, was proof of it. How much more could I lose? What else did the daimon know about me? How much worse could this nightmare get? I did not know. All I could do that night was cry over my loss, both my loss from today and my loss from 7 years ago.
 
...but believe me, it did get worse...

end of part V

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Disclaimer: As usual, Sailor Moon and most of the characters ain't mine, but belong to Naoko Takeuchi. And God bless that woman for creating such great entertainment for all of us with a lot of free time on our hands to enjoy. The English dub belongs to DiC Entertainment and Cloverway, and I only thank them for bringing' it to America, nothin' more. But Russell Hino/Hino Kyodai, Tuxedo Inferno, Titanius, and Deanna Kokorono/Kokorono Meijin are MINE (in a growling voice). So, please don't sue me. I'm just a lonely man who ain't got anythang but his pride. Well, y'all enjoy this fanfic and e-mail me.

Have fun Sailor Moon fans,
Viper Inferno
(Y2V)
 

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