Facing the Storm

by Wilson, Yumoyori

  But the thought always brought the memories and nightmares to the surface, and I didn't know how I was going to fix it. Would painting what happened...make me feel better? Make me face my reality?

  With the bomb at the palace, Homatomashi had been a mess. Mother had come and seen me and Dad would come whenever he could, sometimes three times throughout the day to make sure I was really "okay," but I told him to focus on the problems at hand. Hakua's betrayal revealed that there was a clear breach in our current system, and it had to be fixed once and for all. Storm and Erica were contributions to such chaos, and Hakua had put the icing on the cake.

  I wanted to assist in any way I could, but the guys said I needed a session with ChiyoChi today. I assumed it would be fighting. Not this...

  ChiyoChi noticed my unconscious attempt to stall. She walked up to me and ever so gently stroked my head like a mother who would comfort her child. I didn't get why it comforted me so much; my Kitsune felt the love from the simple touch and was doing her best to stay calm even though I was super anxious.

  "I understand you may not want to do this, Crimson, but just try it? Sit, and if you don't feel like painting, we'll do something else," ChiyoChi suggested.

  "I...what...if the painting is...graphic?" I tried to figure out the proper words to say. I honestly didn't know what I would draw when I sat down, but I was confident that if my brush touched the surface of that blank canvas, I wouldn't hold back. I couldn't.

  "It can be anything, Crimson. Detailed. Bare. Whatever you want to portray on that white surface, you can go right ahead. Just let yourself enjoy your love for art," ChiyoChi assured me.

  I nodded and swallowed the lump in my throat, my eyes turning to focus on the stool and then alternated between the canvas and paint supplies. With a bit of a push from my Kitsune, I took a step forward, followed by another, until I was in front of the large 24 x 30 framed piece.

  I lifted my hands to tie up my hair, thankful I'd brought the white ribbon with red incantations that I'd sneakily taken from Aki. I was really borrowing it, but I knew he wouldn't mind.

  Looking once at my white short-sleeved shirt and blue shorts, I took a few calming breaths. It was getting easier to wear shorts now, especially when I knew I'd be indoors and around people who I assumed would keep me safe. Even with what had happened, I decided it would be one of the many things I wanted to work on.

  My Kitsune strolled over until she was at the border of the surface, sitting down to watch me closely as well as giving me moral support, which made me smile. I didn't care that my ears had appeared or the feel of five tails swaying back and forth behind me.

  I ignored the apron that was on the side of the table that displayed all the supplies laid out. The new equipment ignited a hint of excitement through me, making me wonder if ChiyoChi and the others had bought all of this for me. To give me this one moment to paint freely. To paint how I felt.

  Picking up the brush, I allowed myself a few seconds to enjoy the smooth feel of the black wood and flicked the fine bristles against the back of my right hand.

  I took a few steps back and stared at the blank page, my mind zoning everything out. I felt like I wasn't in the training room anymore. I was back in the dungeon, back where the pain started. The truth happened...

  Out of all the times I'd envisioned what happened to me, whether it was by choice or within my nightmares, I was swimming in fear. It was as if I simply couldn't function, and watching what had happened only left me feeling raw and broken all over again.

  This time, I wasn't sacred. It was like a calming peaceful feeling ran through me. This time, even though I felt like I was in the darkly dimmed dungeon, my hands pressed against the wall as I waited for my reward; I knew I was safe. I could tell that the world surrounding me now was a vision within my mind, and it was time to face it.

  I finally took a calming breath and prepared what I needed. I wanted to portray every emotion.

  My anger, sadness, desperation, agony...pain...regret...and freedom.

  Drawing and revealing what I'd been holding back all this time would maybe free me from the cycle I was in. The constant spiral of emotions that kept hindering me from enjoying the love that surrounded me on the surface.

  With a trembling hand, I dipped my brush into the black paint, deciding I didn't need to pencil out the sketch. I knew what needed to be drawn. It was vivid before me. The events that followed in that dungeon after the round of whips ruined my back and made my flesh bleed in agony.

  My reward.

  All I needed to do was press the brush onto the white surface. The moment I did, I was lost in those memories as my hand began to move of its own accord. It was time to tell my story. To show the world why I was struggling.

  There was more.

  So much more.

  No one knew how deceiving Storm was.

  No one knew who Erica was.

  No. One. Knew.

  My anger soon took over, and even though my eyes filled with tears and blurred my vision, I didn't stop. No...I couldn't stop.

  So much pain. So much hurt. Just SO MUCH.

  I didn't want to deal with this anymore. To deal with the random throbs and aches that would haunt me. To deal with the panic attacks and breakdowns that coursed through me from a simple touch that went far lower than I could handle.

  I needed to be FREE, and this was my only way out. I could feel the heat increase around me, but I didn't care. Let the fire around me burn. Let it feel my sadness. My heartache.

  My sorrow. My regret.

  I couldn't let that bastard take control of me anymore. To let it ruin my relationship with my men anymore. To destroy the newly-kindled bond I was making with my real father and my sweet mother. This was my chance, and I wasn't going to let it slip through my fingertips.

  Stroke after stroke, dip after dip, the colors merged together, and my emotions splattered on the page. The echoing screams that haunted me in my dreams returned, but it was like a symphony for me, and I allowed it to help me portray what needed to be revealed.

  I don't know how long I stood there, or how I even finished the piece until I took a few weak steps back and looked at the complete image before me.

  My tears rolled down my cheeks as I tried to remain standing, sobs escaping me as I let the brush that I held fall to the floor. I felt something warm wrap around me, and I thought it was ChiyoChi until I lifted my head up to see something more spectacular.

  "Fushichou..." I whispered, my eyes growing wide at the oversized phoenix hovering above me. She lowered her flaming head until it pressed against the right side of my cheek.

  I lifted my hand to touch her burning feathers, the heat doing nothing but tickle my flesh. My sobs increased, and I fell to my knees and wept.

  I could feel my other familiars; Chiryoshi lowered to sit on my shoulder that moved up and down as I cried, while Urufu and Mizuko both moved to lay their heads on my lap.

  I was a complete mess, but I didn't fight the tears that left my eyes. I was so fucking tired of crying. So tired of holding back. I missed my old life. I missed being human and simply living my life without fear.

  Something brushed my left cheek and I opened my eyes to see ChiyoChi kneeling before me. "Let it out, Crimson. It's okay to say it now."

  "But...but...they'll judge me. They'll think I'm a slut or something. They won't love me anymore."

  "It wasn't your fault, Crimson."

  "Then why does it feel like it? Why can't I be touched without freaking out? Why...can't I show my love without crying?" I sobbed.

  "Because you’re afraid the truth will leave a scar on your relationships, Crimson. You’d rather keep the pain inside and not hurt anyone else. Revealing the truth will hurt them, and that's why you've been holding back, right?"

  I moved my head up and down in response. "They've hurt enough...I don't want them to hurt anymore. I don't want them to feel pity for me. I...I didn't want to..." I trailed off.

  ChiyoChi cradled
my face, Fushichou moving out of the way while Chiryoshi left my shoulder to hover closer to Fushichou's head.

  "Crimson. You are the victim. Erica hurt you. You didn't ask for any of it. You didn't ask to be kidnapped, abused, and raped. You. Did. Not. Want. It. Your men know you'd never betray them. They know how loyal you are. They know."

  "If...I tell...you. Can you tell them? I...can’t...say it twice...not yet. I don't know when I'll be able to. I want to...but...it's so hard," I vented.

  I NEEDED to tell someone. To get the words off my chest instead of letting it kill me. ChiyoChi wouldn't judge me, but I was scared if the guys knew, they wouldn't love me anymore. Maybe if ChiyoChi told them, they wouldn't blame me. They would still love me.

  "I can do that. I'll tell them later, but for now, it's just you, me, and your familiars. We'll never judge you. We love you and care for you. We want you to be happy again, Crimson. That starts with getting everything out.”

  I looked into her eyes that were a wonderful mixture of blue and purple. They were glossy, and I knew she meant every word she said.

  Opening my mouth, I let everything out. Starting from the moment I woke up in the dungeon. I told her about the whipping, the insults, the touching, and fingering. When I reached the second round of whipping I'd endured, I didn't know if I could finish.

  ChiyoChi pressed her forehead against mine, allowing the tears that had escaped her eyes time and again, to fall once more. "It's okay, Crimson. Say it."

  "Erica...Erica...wasn’t…" I took a deep breath and decided to let it out.

  "Erica wasn't female. Erica...is Eric and...he raped me as in...actually...you know," I whispered.

  ChiyoChi leaned back and nodded, doing her best to hide her shock.

  With those words, I explained everything else. Everything that had happened.

  The way he'd pinned me against the wall. The pain that came with each thrust. The way I wished the guys would come and save me. How helpless I’d felt and how I wished I'd died after all of it was over.

  I mentally had wished the guys wouldn’t save me. I'd wished Aki and my dad wouldn't have kept such a close eye on me. I'd wished Urufu would have let me drown in the bathtub when the thoughts entered my mind. I’d wished to be forgotten.

  I told her everything and cried my eyes out. I'd never felt so naked. So bare in all my entire existence. But here I was finally telling my story, and for once in a long time, I felt free.

  Surrounded by my familiars who took me in as their Master and loved me just for the broken me and ChiyoChi who was willing to listen.

  She didn't pity me. No, she cried with me. Comforted me. Held me like a Mother would. Even though I had my mom, it didn't feel right. THIS felt right, as did my Kitsune's comforting presence. This was a safe place and my story could finally be told.

  I could move on.

  The truth was out.

  I was raped by a man who'd wanted nothing in the world but to be a female.

  * * *

  A man who was looked down upon for wanting to be a different gender.

  A man who wanted to love Storm, regardless of his identified gender.

  A man who couldn't have such a wish, because "women" didn't marry the same sex, and unless he revealed his true identity as Eric, he'd always be denied the life he wanted as Erica.

  Erica was a man, and I could finally accept the reality that he wasn't the victim.

  I, Crimson Jiyuna, was.

  I was the victim.

  ~QUILLIAN~

  My fists hit the punching bag again and again. I needed the escape and an outlet for my anger. If I didn't I'd shift, and I wouldn't give a shit what I burned. I'd go to N.R.O and burn everything and everyone by myself.

  I heard the door of the training room open, but I didn't care. I kept punching the 8th black bag of sand, wishing I could claw it to pieces instead. Not like I hadn't done just that with the other seven.

  "If you want to cry, it's better to do that than ruin every punching bag in this damn place."

  If my dragon was out, he'd turn his head and burn James to ashes. Since he wasn't, the least he could do was unleash our claws and, just like that, the punching bag was now ruptured and pouring sand to the floor. I took a deep breath before I turned to face him.

  "Out of all the people, they sent you to come to interrupt me?" I complained.

  "No one sent me and last time I checked, you didn't eat at all," James grumbled. I noticed the bag in his left hand, which from the smell of it, contained a box of food.

  He walked over to put the takeout on the bench before he slid his hands in his black jogger pants. He wore a dark red t-shirt and had a few wristbands on his right wrist.

  Turning back to look at me he shrugged. "Stop destroying shit and eat."

  I rolled my eyes and changed the subject. "How's Crimson?"

  James frowned and I noticed the glint of anger that flickered in his red orbs. "Fast asleep. Aki's staying with her and Itsuki and Haru are on watch."

  "Will she sleep through the night?"

  "Haru added a sleeping pill to her meds. She should sleep well through the night with no issues," James replied.

  "The others?"

  "Malachi went for a run. Yoshimitsu is having a deep discussion with the Emperor. Jiyuna's cutting shit at the outdoor training area, and my ass is only here to give you food because dragons are apparently savage when they don't eat."

  "Who told you that?"

  "Malachi."

  "They really trust people too easily," I grumbled.

  "Nah. Lion's and kitsunes are the most perceptive shifters out there. Just because they agree with a person being around, doesn't mean they're foolish. Why do you think Crimson snapped on Hakua? It wasn't just her situation. Her Kitsune reacted."

  "Hmm..." He did have a point. I wasn't there to fully grasp the situation, but Crimson was hard to push to the point of snapping. "I'm not hungry."

  "Liar."

  "Just go do something productive and stop bothering me."

  "Or you can just admit you're angry that none of you knew Erica was a male and hurt Crimson."

  I clenched my fists but looked away. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction that he was indeed right. I wasn't angry. I was furious. If there were truly a way to revive the dead, I would have done it in a heartbeat to make Erica...or ERIC pay for what he did. He hurt OUR Crimson. He touched her and fucked her against her will. He broke her, and now she desperately wanted to be fixed.

  Most importantly, we didn't realize it until now. THAT was what was really bothering me. We'd ignored the fact that Crimson needed therapy in exchange for training her to help her forget. How would the wound ever heal if we left it half exposed?

  "Did you know?"

  "I heard...but I didn't think it was true. It wasn't until after killing him that I found out."

  "You should have brought him in for justice."

  "For you to burn him up into ash? I doubt you would have done that much," James said in an annoyed voice. "If you think being bound to the earth is butterflies and rainbows, think again."

  "That punishment isn't enough!" I seethed.

  "Being eternally bound to the earth where the days are like intense infernos of the sun's heat, and the night is frigid cold like the surface of the moon itself. You watch as people walk the surface and you're invisible while your suffering continues on and on. He can beg for eternity and, until our world ends, he'll be stuck in that same cycle. I think that's far more than enough."

  I was silent, knowing that being earthbound was much worse than people stated. I hadn't known it was to THAT extent.

  "Let's be real. Because Eric was Erica, or a female as you will, the situation in your guys’ minds wasn't as serious," James suggested.

  "That's not fucking true!" I snapped, my Dragon roaring in response.

  "Maybe, but as an "outsider" that's what it looks like. You guys didn't put Crimson's mental health as a priority. You listened to what she wanted. Or
what she thought she wanted. She assumed that if she got stronger, the nightmares and her fears would just float away like it didn't happen. Let's think about it. When someone is raped in our culture, as in a male raped a female, what's the common thing that happens after a report is made? Therapy. But because Crimson was "healing" and voiced she was okay after a female "raped" her and she'd had a few weeks off, you guys knew therapy was a good option but delayed it."

  I didn't reply, knowing my anger would do the talking rather than my logic. He had a point and that just pissed me off more. James sighed and walked forward until we were face to face.

  "I'm not putting the blame only on you guys. Everyone is to blame. Even I'm to blame. If I looked into Erica...Eric more, I would have found out. The problem is dealt with now that she finally vented what she was hiding."

  "How...could you tell?" I whispered, lowering my head to the floor as I attempted to hold back my tears.

  "Gut instinct? Crimson...she's just a true gem in a field of stones. She's selfless and would do anything to have everyone around her be happy. Didn't matter who it was. Her parents, her alcoholic boyfriend...as long as someone else was happy, Crimson would hold her sadness in until she couldn't anymore. I've watched it enough times to know, but you guys will be able to tell soon enough."

  James reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Stop beating yourself up. Crim will get better. She's taken the first step. She needs you guys to be strong and not treat her differently because you know the truth. Treat her like an equal and do the things you guys used to do. Let her remember the good things in life and that you'll never leave her."

  "For a Bipolar Asshole, you love lecturing people," I mumbled.

  "I'm actually smart when I want to be," James grumbled.