As
usual this story's author is as irregular and unpredictable as them,
haha... To all of you who follow them here is a greeting, a very big
hug from a mere amateur writer.
<<So
many years have passed... since we were friends, she and I. The first
ones were the best, the sweetest. Now, in spite of my young age, the
days go by flying as I spy her dazzling smile.>>
Something
was happening. Ever since several days ago Hime had not showed up at
school. Neither I had seen her leave her house in that direction;
the most she did was go for errands. Needless to say, in an
accelerated course of such calibre, missing classes did not do any
good to the students. I needed to find out what was happening... I
must do it, but I did not want to talk to her. What if she hated me?
And what if she did not hate me and the following hush tore my soul?
Would I be able to stand it...?
I
was surfing the internet, thoughtful. I felt like visiting the web of
the bank where my parents deposited my allowance.
There
was no allowance. Not this month, nor the last. And if...? Something
fateful was brewing in my mind. Something dreadful.
Putting
everything else aside for a moment, I took the telephone and called
my parents.
<<The
number you dialled doesn't exist...
…
…
bip,
bip, bip...>>
Breathing
deeply I called once again. And twice. And more. I dialled the damn
digits until my mind was about to collapse.
Of
course. The money for Hime's education. It is not there anymore, the
same as my allowance. And she is not going to ask me for it. She
would never have done such a thing, and furthermore now it is
impossible.
It
is kind of funny how we people keep calm in some extreme situations.
'Sangfroid' or whatever it may be called, scared me to the same
extent as it set me apart from a human being. At the moment I did not
think of it, though. First of all I called the butler. I explained to
him what happened and that I felt extremely grateful for his
services. I paid him an amount (not that much) for his loyalty.
“Thank you so much, you've served me well, if you ever need a
favour don't hesitate to ring me...”
With
this, the house was finally empty. The air staled in the lifeless
mansion. Corridors and rooms were crossed by wandering, pained
memories of a life that in other time was happy. Hime's screams,
faces, mischief... The sad remembrance of her beauty (which excelled
in my eyes) was like an old, ruined paint on all the walls of the
house.
I
knew what I had to do. I had my parent's bank account number, where
Hime's course was paid from every month. I went to the bank and gave
order that money were transferred to that account from mine.
After
some days the girl started attending class anew. I felt quite
relieved. But, on the other hand, I had almost no funds left. If I
wanted Hime to continue the accelerated course, I needed to get money
somehow.
I
had to carry on training. That was the most important thing. Arriving
to my appointment with Ulysses, with my head spinning like a
merry-go-round, several strange, distorted things passed through it.
My
master gave me a warm greeting, as always. The training started once
more. My senses and all my basic qualities had been sharpened.
Sometimes I ended up dead on my feet, because, according to Ulysses,
'a strong body is the base of everything'.
From
time to time his gaze would turn melancholic and he would tell some
stories about his past. How he used to fight in the arena, how the
life of a 'gladiator' was... It did not sound pleasant at all, rather
like fights among dogs.
That
day, the topic awoke a special interest in me.
“And...
did you get money?”
“For
sure... people bet on the fighters, and if you won you got a part of
the benefits. If you lost, now of course you would bring nothing but
a good beating...”
<<You
get money>>. Those words were deeply carved in my mind, because
of some obvious reason I could not recall at the time.
He
would also tell me very tragic things about gladiators. How some of
them died in the arena, how others became useless, punch-drunk,
one-handed or one-legged... it was an authentic slaughter. Nobody
would even think of going there. But... <<you get money>>
That thought would echo endlessly in my head.
My
life and Hime's were back to normal (in my case, at least 'a sad
normality'). Following her everywhere was my obsession and pastime.
That day was pretty cloudy. She came back from school with her usual
beauty. But, strangely, the usual pests were not chasing her,
probably due to the bad weather. Without losing her charm she looked
at herself every now and then, and touched up her face. The fact that
such a cute, innocent girl was walking down the street in such a dark
day seemed rather dangerous to me, if I were not around.
She
passed near some vending machines, and bumped into a boy who was
buying drinks. 'she bumped?' She was rather tripped up on purpose,
from my privileged angle of view.
She
fell to the ground and damaged her tights, one of her knees bleeding
slightly.
“Ouch!
You'd better go looking what you do, will you? You hurt me!”
“Ah...
I'm sorry...” That was my Hime, apologizing and being as nice as
ever. That made one be proud of her.
“What
happened?” Three other boys showed up from behind the machines. Was
that an ambush? Could they by any chance be acquaintances of the
bullies from years ago? Or would it just be that her beauty was a sin
and they could not stand it?
They
grabbed her forcibly from her wrist and lifted her: “We're gonna
teach you some manners, girl...”
<<I'm
ready, there's no problem. I live for this.>> I put on a black
balaclava that together with the dark clothes I used to wear became
quite a camouflage uniform. I did not want to be recognized. Not by
them, but by Hime. I did not want her to know anything about what I
was doing. If she found out, I did not know how she would react...
I
did not say a word. Punch. Hold. Other punch. In a moment all were
battered on the ground. I only opened my mouth to say:
“If
you guys get near her ever again, I'll kill you.” Next I grabbed
her hand, which had been treated with no care at all. It seemed to be
ok. I sighed in relief, I helped her to stand.
“Thanks,
you saved me. Who are you?” She said. Her voice, which it had been
long since I heard so close, drilled my chest from side to side among
sloppy heartbeats. The warm touch of her hand, which I had taken in
an impulse, only made the situation get worse. A part of me wanted to
go with her, hug her and tell her “I love you, stay always with
me...” but my cold mind did not let me down and as something was
torn apart in me, I let her hand go without making a sound and ran
off, turning the corner so that she could not follow me.
I
did not know if I was sadder than normal... I had tasted the honey
with these impure lips, again. But well, at least I had saved her. A
strange anxiety swirled in my mind... Within the fight I could feel a
presence, as if somebody were observing me from the shadows. I cannot
say I saw them directly, but I knew someone was there.
My
most paranoid suspects had been confirmed, they were laying in wait
in every corner to attack her... Somehow I had a slight relief. <<It
seems I am doing the correct thing...>> And at the same time I
felt miserable, because my relief came from Hime's suffering. That is
right. I had become a being that begged self-justification from the
world... A being for whom the end justified the means.
Regarding
my school life, it was somewhat better than before since nobody
picked on me anymore. Everybody rather ignored me there, so I could
describe it as 'practically non-existent'. The less I attracted
attention, the much better for me.
The
next day, at the time of going home I found something in my locker.
It was a letter... The envelope had nothing written on it, so I just
took the content out of it to read it:
<<I'm
watching you.>> That was the only written. It seemed a
threatening letter. I got a deja vu. But, if that someone
observed me, possibly observed Hime as well... Was that blackmail?
But they had not asked for anything... Maybe that someone would ask
it later. Or maybe they just wanted revenge. At any rate, over the
years I had gained too many enemies. If it were some of them, or
their allies... I had been for so long apart from her, just to
prevent this...
Being
near Hime would just put her at risk. But the event of that day
together with that letter opened my eyes: <<They are going to
use her to retaliate.>> Since the very first moment there was
no exit. My idealistic mind was just drawing a scenery where
everything would be 'perfect' (in an absurd sense of the word, of
course ^^U).
All
those who laid in wait would attack my weak spot. That is... <<my
Hime>>. That was why she was attacked and would be again.
Somehow I could not be sure at 100% if I was helping her with my
behaviour or just causing her more trouble.
Then
I understood I could not protect her every time. Not, unless... <<I
stay always with her>>. But, how was I going to do such a
thing? At that moment we where so distanced that the idea seemed to
me as out of context as terrifying.
When
I arrived home (after 'chasing Hime' as usual) a strange anxiety
drove me to open the mailbox. There were the normal things, some
letters of bills and the like. I took all at once indifferently,
when... 'plock', something fell to the ground from among them. Out of
curiosity I crouched down and picked it up. It looked like a card
from some pub. On one of the faces there was a map of an area of the
city, and a cross drawn with a pen marked some spot on it.
On
the other face: <<Ask for Athena>>, handwritten, with a
quick, casual style.
What
was the meaning of that? Could it be part of the blackmailing started
in my locker? It was not as if they were asking for something
directly, but I felt I should go there and find out what that people
were after.
Without
a second thought I left towards there. Looking at the small map I
tried to get as close as possible to where the cross (or whatever it
represented) must have been. At a nearby spot there was a little
antique shop. In the old window display under dim light lied figures
of mythological characters. <<Athena>> was a Greek
goddess. That could be the place I was looking for.
I
entered silently, the door made no sound. Neither bells, nor buzzers,
nor squeals. I almost felt as if I were sneaking into the place. The
décor was as mythological (or more) than the one shown in the window
display. Behind a worn counter there was an old man. He had a beard,
like those hermit in the mountains. A long, white beard. He was
wrinkled, and looked focused on something he had under the counter.
I
approached a little and my eyes caught a glimpse of his hands carving
a wooden figure. It seemed a mythological character, what made me
think I probably knew where the other ones had come from. Now the
shop seemed to me a craft shop rather than an antique one.
“Good
evening...” I said, “I'm looking for Athena.” The old man
lifted his gaze. Those eyes seemed as piercing as a spear's tip.
“I
see... and who asks for her?”
“...”
”...”
“Kotaro...”
Without
taking his eyes off me with a face like 'of poker' he put his hand
under the counter. And apathetic like a statue he carried on with his
'research' of me, until a couple of seconds later a kind of hatch
opened behind the furniture.
“See.
You can go through there...” The stone face had changed to a smile
between evil and mocking. “Good luck, boy.”
I
had
already reached there, so without much hesitation I went towards the
hatch and walked downstairs.
It
would never occur to anybody to go there. Never...
unless they were committed to her care.
The Gladiator's Soul by Ignacio Garcia is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
