Post by Lady Munin on Apr 28, 2020 21:08:52 GMT -8
[This is a revised CD from October 2019. None of this is on camera.]
MUNIN 無人
[Japanese interpretation: unmanned, uninhabited, empty.]
Munin gazes up at her graffitied locker with tired eyes and filled with resignation. The corners of her cupid-bow lips pulled down into a frown that seemed unnatural on her sweet face.
She wasn't surprised by the graffiti, though a part of her wished she could be. Unfortunately, such harassment was becoming more frequent, but it still hurt to be faced with such disdain.
To say she was starting to hate the sight of her foreign name forced into the Kanji variation...would be a vast understatement. That really was the least of her worries, though. Her real concern was the fact that the taunts weren't just becoming more frequent...they were escalating.
One small hand sweeps the bangs from her doll-like face with a disheartened sigh.
There was no sense in reacting, it would just encourage them, so she would just have to clean it off before Hugin saw it. Part of her knew she should tell him, but she hated to bother him with something so petty, and...and part of her was ashamed. As illogical as she knew that was...
She shakes her head in denial, and clings to the concept of logic like an anchor...or a lifeline.
It was illogical, and if Hugin found out she was keeping this from him it would disappoint-
Her thoughts were cut off when she was shoved against the locker. She silently cursed herself for being so absorbed in her self pity that she didn't even know her attacker was behind her.
Strong hands clenched painfully in her hair, grinding her face into the vandalized locker.
"Well, if it isn't our little Taira Princess." It was an attractive masculine voice, and somehow that seemed wrong. Shouldn't it be the oily sleazy voice of a proper villain? However, outside of his voice...Well...
There was something about the tone behind those words that makes her stomach twist, while the feel of his damp breath on her neck makes her skin crawl. However, whatever else her captor was about to say was interrupted by a snide high pitched feminine voice.
"Silly Jin, she isn't a princess, she's a Munin. Just because she carries the Taira name doesn't mean she's a princess. No, she's nothing but a dirty little mutt."
A peal of cruel laughter from behind makes her pulse race, as the reality of the situation starts to sink in.
How many of them are there, and how far will they take their hatred this time?
The hand in her hair starts to caress against her scalp.
"She doesn't look like a dirty mutt to me, more like a pretty little doll, an empty imitation of a princess. I think your parents named you well, little one.."
His broader body shifts against her back as he starts to grind his lower body against her.
"Munin, an empty little doll. You know, small toys are nothing until they have someone to play with them. "
Another male's smug laughter was interrupted by the jealous scoff, and grating voice of her female tormentor.
"A mutt is a mutt no matter how pretty. Your father should have drowned you in the river when you were born. Then again, he was just as much a disgrace as you are."
The girl sucks air through her teeth in a disgusted tsk.
"He tarnished his family's name by marrying some Gaijin. Then he allowed her to give his mutt daughter such an idiotic name. What was he thinking?"
Each venomous word slices through her like a knife. Every instinct screaming at her to fight, but she was frozen. Her mind had become a prison that betrayed her when she needed it most.
"Don't worry, little doll. No one else will want you after today, but you'll be mine." Thin wet lips brushed against her lips along with that promise that was really more of a threat.
A whimper claws its way out of her throat only to cut off as Jin abruptly spins her around. Her body hits the locker hard enough to know the air from her lungs.
"None of that."
Her breath hitched as his hand slid over her stomach, and she couldn't even properly see his face through her mounting panic.
"Disgusting, but I can't complain. Your little perversion will get the mutt out of my way." The nasty voice drew closer as if to ensure that Munin heard every word.
"When Hugin sees what a little slut you are, he'll want nothing to do with you."
Those final words echoed around in Munin's head like a loudspeaker in an empty room.
She wants to take Hugin away...I'll be all alone.
With that thought, every repressed ounce of rage and pain unleashes in a sudden eruption of violence. Her internal prison didn't just crumble; it shattered.
"No."
Her knee jerks up, ruthlessly slamming into her attacker's groin. The sudden attack quickly followed by a vicious head-butt to his nose once he bent over in pain. There was little more than to the attacks than basic skill and desperate instinct, but it was a devastating combination.
The blood that spraying from her molester's nose went unnoticed as it speckled her pale cheek, and she swiftly finished her attack with a sound elbow to his jaw.
She was a feral creature, mindless with rage as she felt the satisfying crack tremble through her small body.
However, in this violence, she found peace. She had a purpose. She was going to tear apart anyone that tried to take her Hugin away.
The room was still shocked into silence when she struck again without hesitation. Her small hands latching into onto her tormenter's long hair with a serene smile on her blood-spattered face.
"My name is Munin. M.U.N.I.N You stupid cunt."
She uses the girl's hair to reel her in for a brutally efficient beating. Even when the screams turned to whimpers, she didn't stop. It wasn't enough. When the girl was little more than a limp mess, Munin dropped her like trash...and turned to those that were finally trying to pull her away. Did she use a stapler, a penci, or was it the metal thermos that had fallen from her locker. Honestly, she didn't know. Everything was starting to blur together, and the only thing that really mattered was that someone needed to bleed.
Somewhere in the corner of her mind, she knew her father wouldn't approve. If he could see her now, he would surely be disappointed.
Too bad daddy's dead.
"Munin...Munin...Munin."
She heard the voice as if from a distance. It was a familiar voice, vaguely she registered that it was someone precious, but everything seemed just out of reach at the moment. Nothing seemed real but everything but the feel of flesh yielding to her fists.
"MUNIN STOP!"
Gentle but firm hands carefully pried her away, and expertly restrained her against a warm chest. Just as new voices enter the room indecipherable as they seem to topple over each other to her ears.
"WHO did TH-"
"IS?"
"WHAT" "GOING on here!"
"Happened!"
"Munin, it's ok, I have you." There it was, that deep patient voice whispering soothing promises, and her struggles finally start to slow as the words penetrate her haze.
"Hugin..."
The world snaps into focus like a camera lens on a blurry picture. All of Munin's rage suddenly pouring out of her small body, leaving it to crumble limply into Hugin's embrace.
Voices continue to talk over each other, and time seems to blur...like those moments in a dream. The ones where you move from point A to B without any recollection of happened in-between.
"So, you want me to believe that Mister Yamanato attacked Miss Taira, despite her complete lack of injuries? Some witnesses paint a very different story, young man. One far more believable than yours, and you would do well to re-evaluate before spouting any more nonsense. You are only allowed in this school because of your association with the Taria family."
How could he not believe them?
It was as if the principle was looking for any excuse to twist their words. Hugin was getting angrier by the second. If this kept up, he was going to snap. Munin's dark eyes caress over her companion's knuckles turning white against the armrests. Then her dark eyes wandered back the man lecturing of them, and it was at that moment that she realizes...
He doesn't believe us because it's easier not to. Nothing is going to change his mind, and arguing will only get Hugin expelled.
They didn't want to believe that she attacked anyone other than the girl Hugin pried her off of.
It's far easier to blame this on a boy they viewed as socially beneath them, and the girl whose family made her untouchable. This way, they had to do next to nothing, and this little mess would be neatly cleaned away.
With this realization, Munin lost a little bit of her innocence but had very little time to mourn it.
I should've hit the bitch harder.
"You're right, Hugin is lying to cover for me. I lied and told him that Jin tried to molest me because he refused to go out with me. He wanted to go out with..."
She trails off, realizing that she still hadn't learned the bitch's name.
"Miss Makio."
The principal offers tersely. Beneath the desk, his hand shook slightly.
The girl was little more than a child, yet her dark eyes were utterly emotionless. There were no tears or fear, absolutely no remorse, yet they tried to say that she was the victim? His mind flashed to the sight of the preteen being loaded into the ambulance.
"Yes, Miss Makito. I was angry that he would turn me down for someone inferior to me, so I attacked her. The other boy tried to break us apart. When Hugin came in, I told him that they were attacking me, so he defended me. He was only doing what he is supposed to do. Serve me."
Bile rises up in her throat with every lie she spews. The fact that the principal was nodding along with each word makes her even sicker.
What do you do when everyone wanted a lie? You give them what they want.
They wouldn't separate her from Hugin, and he would believe her.
She was pulled from her thoughts when Hugin takes her small bruised hand in his. Suddenly she knew no matter what came from this, it would be ok.
She wasn't going to be alone.
"Miss Taira while your family name does offer you a certain amount of leniency let me assure you that it is not infinite-"
The principal keeps talking, but honestly, she'd already stopped listening. Everything was just blending together again. Time and place lost all meaning until her family arrived and were more than happy to adequately convey their displeasure.
She tried to tell them the truth on the way home, but it was pointless.
Her grandparents were more than willing to eat up the lies; she fed the principle. They never questioned the story, and any attempt to tell them otherwise was immediately shut down. It hurt, but it wasn't shocking.
The only bright side to this ordeal is that Hugin came out looking like gold. Any doubts her grandparents had about keeping him in their care as they reached their teens were dismissed.
That alone is enough to make her smile, despite the grains of rice digging into her knees.
Ok, the smile is more of a grimace.
Abstractly she knows that the events of the day will catch up with her. The sweet peace she found in the earlier violence wasn't a permanent fix, and sooner or later, her walls would come tumbling down. But for now, she's thankful for any reprieve.
If only life could continue in this twilight state of shock...it would be a dream. Unfortunately, this dream was never meant to last.
It was in the middle of the night when the large house was quiet and still...that her small body started to shiver. Then the shivers turned into shakes, and a keening sound began to bubble up from her throat, though her jaw felt locked shut.
Trapped, she was caught in the confines of her mind again. The panic, starting to settle into her bones with a dull ache when suddenly...there he was.
"Munin. Shit Munin, come here."
Hugin held her patiently for what seemed like hours until finally, the words began to tumble out. Sometimes flowing, other times stumbling, and worst of all choking with tears.
He listened to everything until his own hands trembled with rage. Despite his own emotions never interrupting. It feels like hours before the shivering finally stops, and Munin slips into the blissful oblivion of sleep.
If only I could stay in this forever.
The echo of her own thoughts drifts back to her as she floats through the dark. She was alone...she hated being alone.
Maybe she was being punished because she was supposed to be dead. Everyone else had died.
Were they floating in their own peaceful darkness too?
Thunder rolls through the darkness, and with it comes the horror.
Pale dead hands slick and swollen with water, pulling her down into the water. The seat belt strapping her to the seat of a car filling up with water.
Trapped, she was confined again, and her only company...were the rotting water-swollen corpses that surrounded her. Blaming her for being alive when they had been left to die
"MUNIN! Fuck, Munin, wake up! It's just a dream!"
Dark eyes fly open and wildly dart around the interior of the car, before settling on another set of eyes. She was expecting to see brown, but the eyes that meet her's are grey.
Krähe.
Suddenly she realizes the screams that fill the cab are her own, and they abruptly cut off. Leaving the sound of her own heavy breathing to fill the silence.
Of course, it's Krähe. It's 2019, I'm not a twelve-year-old girl anymore and Hugin...I have no idea where Hugin is.
Slowly the world comes into focus. The interior of the car. The storm raging outside. Richard peeking over Krähe's shoulder with worry. Krähe's own face was hard with apprehension, only softening when he sees that she is fully awake.
"There you are, that was some nightmare."
She turns her eyes away from his far too knowing look and instead gazes out the window at the storm.
"Yeah...a nightmare." Her voice is nearly hoarse from sleep and scream.
If you dream about memory, is it a nightmare...or just a memory?
Either way, it was nothing that Zachariah needed to worry about.
She licks her lips and clears her throat.
"We'll go with that."
Some old habits die hard.
With a hand far steadier than it should be, Munin flips on the radio to indicate that she didn't want to talk about it.
"Oh, life could be a dream.
If I could take you up in paradise up above
If you would tell me, I'm the only one that you love
Life could be a dream, sweetheart."
Oh, the irony.
It would have been nice if that were the end of it, but the past was a horribly tenacious thing, especially when you were trying to avoid it.
Later that day, she found herself buried neck-deep in it once again. Only this time, waking up wasn't an option.
Why am I here?
The thought must have run through Munin's head a hundred times in the past thirty minutes.
Her eyes lazily drift over the luxuriousness of one of New York's most excellent restaurants and then back to her "family."
This was definitely her own private hell.
Her only consolation is knowing "grandmother" hated being in the same room with her nearly as much as she hated to be here.
It's with this thought that her eyes meet with the other woman, which Immediately prompts Munin to slouch deeper into her chair. The woman's nostrils flaring in instant silent fury was like eating icing from a spoon. Immensely satisfying instant gratification.
Krahe chuckles from her side, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
"Munin, my dear, you're awfully quiet. I'm sure you could think of something of substance to say if you try hard enough."
Munin swore the old hag must eat the souls of kittens for breakfast to maintain her supernatural ability to turn words into icepicks. She was old enough now not to be hurt by the sharp bite of them and mature enough to not let herself be drawn into the woman's petty games.
That didn't mean she wasn't going to do it anyway.
With a sweet smile, she meets the older woman's eyes and matches her frigid tone. Even subtracting a few degrees for good measure.
"I have plenty of things to say, Lin...just nothing to say to you."
The older woman immediately sputters and gaps at her in outrage.
"How dare you speak to your grandmother with such disrespect! Yo-" The shrilly spoken words were abruptly cut off before the tirade could even begin.
"Step-grandmother, we don't share blood. Thank god."
Munin's fluttering of lashes, and fuck you smile had the matron's eyes bulging and her face flushing with outrage.
The lines were drawn, and the battle set to begin...when suddenly it was interrupted.
It happens all at once. A simple excited movement too close to a glass of water. It's the perfect example of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The elbow hits the glass, and the water spills out like liquid chaos.
For Munin, it's like watching everything in slow motion. The sudden exclamations of righteous indignation ringing in her ears, and in an instant, she's sucked down the rabbit hole of the past.
Water spilled over the table to drip into her lap. Her small hands clenching tight to hide their shaking, while her stomach churns with humiliation.
Immediately she braces herself for the backlash of her clumsiness. It wasn't like they would hold back just because of their current visitor.
Great Uncle Jiro may have been a hero to her father, but he was a black sheep to the rest of the family. Unwanted, just like her.
Her stomach churns even more with sudden realization. They were going to make an example of her.
"Atsuko, is it not enough that you are a constant source of shame to this family? Must you be this clumsy too?"
Munin's teeth grit together at the use of her middle name.
"My first name is Munin, it's the name I would prefer you to use."
An outraged scoff was the not so unexpected reaction. It was the same song and dance nearly every night. Every time they started it, she wondered why she took the bait, but a small part of her knew it was because she refused to fully roll over and die. Submitting to her grandmother entirely would be the same as resigning herself to a slow death.
Though, it's not like I'm all that alive anyways.
Was Munin's own rueful observation.
"How dare you take such a tone with me, you ungrateful child? That ridiculous name has led to enough trouble. Honestly, we would be better off legally removing it entirely. Perhaps that would curtail the petty rebellious tendencies you've been exhibiting."
Munin's breath hitches in her throat at her grandmother's callous smile. Beside her, Hugin shifts in his seat with mounting fury. The restraining hand she put on his knee was the only thing keeping him in check.
"Oh, did you think we wouldn't know? Just because you haven't done anything that can officially be disciplined, doesn't mean your dishonorable conduct has gone unnoticed. In fact, it's my opinion that you're not fit to accept your inheritance in its entirety."
"That will be quite enough of that, Lin."
Jiro's rough voice cuts through her grandmother's rant like a blade. The words were spoken calmly, almost dismissively, but they commanded the attention of everyone in the room.
Munin turns her shocked gaze from her grandmother's gaping mouth to look at her Great Uncle with something akin to wonder.
"You've no say in the inheritance of my great-niece. My brother may choose to indulge your petty prattle, but I am sick of it."
Jiro finally lifts his gaze from his plate to meet Munin's wide-eyed gaze across the table.
"Munin, I heard there was an incident at your school. Tell me what happened."
For the first time in weeks, she found herself desperate to tell someone the truth. The need was so strong she could taste it, but when she opened her mouth, out poured the lies.
"I see, it can't be helped then."
Jiro turned his attention back to his food.
"Go to your room, and think about what you've told me. You'll not be finishing dinner with the rest of us. No, Hugin, you will stay here."
Numbly she pushes away from the table and quietly makes her way upstairs.
Forty minutes passed before Uncle Jiro politely knocks on the door. After she gave permission, he enters with a gentle smile on his handsome weathered face.
"Do you mind if we have a word?"
"I don't mind...sir." Her voice was soft, nearly defeated as she looks at the floor in shame.
Jiro pauses to take in her look with a gentle frown, before crossing the floor with measured steps and settling at the foot of the bed.
"Do you know why you were sent to your room?"
Munin shrugs her shoulders with a tired sigh, and began to list her many faults.
"I'm clumsy, and my behavior is offensive."
"You think you were sent to your room because you spilled a glass of water?" This was uttered with a mixture of disbelief and irritation that has Munin blinking in confusion.
"What else would I have been sent away for?"
Would this man that her father loved so much add to her lists of faults?
The internal question brought a burning sensation to the back of her eyes. She really wasn't sure she could handle that right now.
Meanwhile, her uncle takes in a deep breath and begins to rub the bridge of his nose.
Inside he was furious that his brother would allow his second wife to treat a child so poorly. The bitch deserved to be beaten, but such thoughts wouldn't help the child. At least, not right now.
It takes him a moment to compose himself before he turns back to her.
"You were sent to your room for lying to me."
Their eyes meet, hers filled with shock and his patient.
"How about you tell me what happened at school one more time."
By the time she had told him everything, silent tears had burned tracks down her face. It was cleansing.
"I take it this other behavior is related?"
She hesitates only a moment before nodding. It was true, all her recent activities could be traced back to that incident.
"I see, can you truly validate these punishments?"
A small line of confusion forms between her brow at his question.
"I don't...I don't understand."
"That's not surprising. Most people fail to grasp the full concept of punishment or the responsibility that comes with it. An honorable punishment is motivated by a strong sense of justice, a clear outlook of accountability, and an understanding of absolution."
The confusion clears her delicate features to be replaced with rapt attention.
"Absolution?" She makes the word a question even as she savored it.
"Yes, my dear, once a person's been punished for their transgression, they can't be punished for it again."
His tone remains soft but gains a new layer of stern authority. Not to scare Munin, but rather to reassure her with a solid structure she could trust.
"I sent you to your room for lying. That means you were punished and held accountable for your actions. After tonight I will never punish you in any way for lying to me tonight. The slate is wiped clean, and you are absolved. Also, your punishment was proportionate to your crime. Sometimes we need punishment for absolution...more than we need it for justice. It allows us to tear down the molehills that we have built into mountains. Do you understand?"
Munin automatically begins to nod her head but stops with a look of adorable concentration. Her uncle wanted the truth, and that thought filled her with a quiet exhileration.
"I think I understand, but...how do I know for sure?"
Jiro's eyes twinkle with amusement at her question. He hoped that one day she could look back at this moment and consider it as precious as he does.
"Knowing something isn't the same as understanding it. Some lessons you have to grow into."
"That makes even less sense." She said this with apparent exasperation that Jiro has to bite back a bark of laughter.
"Wait, you said an honorable punishment, but what about the dishonorable?"
His brows raise at the question, and he smiles in appreciation. This girl would be quite a threat one day with her large adorable eyes to hide that razor-sharp brain.
"I'm happy you were paying attention."
He affectionately ruffles her black hair, and after her initial flinch, she relaxes into the touch. The exchange almost bringing tears to his own eyes even as it brought a rage. No child should flinch like that...
"Some seek to punish others for satisfying their own egotistical sense of power. This power is used as a crutch for their own insecurities and fears. They tell themselves pretty lies to justify their petty actions, build themselves up as some great paragon. When really, they're just malicious cowards."
"It's when we find ourselves dealing with such individuals that we are faced with the decision to transcend their petty definition of punishment...or to be dragged down into it."
His gentle eyes slide over her somber little face.
"If you were faced with such a person, would you transcend, or would you punish someone over a little spilled water?"
That night she and Hugin packed their bags. The next day Uncle Jiro took them home.
A small sniffle beneath the hushed berating voices snaps Munin back to the present.
Her dark eyes focus on the small child, trying not to cry over spilled water. The tiny half sobbed apology is what finally pulls Munin's trigger.
Everyone jumps when a hand slams down on the table.
"You know, I was going to humor your asinine mind games, and just make up some stupid excuse to leave as soon as possible...But..."
Their eyes widen comically when she climbs onto the table.
"I've changed my mind. Krahe, scoot back...I don't want any of this mess to spill onto you."
Munin stands on top of a table, her designer heels firmly planted on the pristine table cloth. Her backdrop is pure dining opulence of New York's Le Bernardin and its many elite patrons gaping at her in disbelief. The Taria clan looks on in horror as she stands above them with a guileless smile.
"You people...truly disgust me."
She begins to pace along the table, purposely knocking over glasses of water and wine.
"To most of the world, the concept of punishment is straightforward and simple. Merriam and Webster defines punishment as suffering, pain, or loss that serves as retribution. Uncle Jiro believed that the concept of punishment was anything but simple..."
A loud scoff has her twisting her head awkwardly to meet the offender's eyes with a cold, vicious glare that had them quickly averting their eyes.
"To Uncle Jiro, the punishment was not only retribution but a chance for absolution. I know many may think of me as a monster by the I die, but I believe in that."
She turns slowly to take in the dark glares of her family and completely ignoring the mess that earned her the glares in the first place.
"I believe it's people like you that are the real monsters. You sit like vultures on your self-righteous pedestals...waiting to prey on those weaker than you just to make yourself feel more powerful."
She turns to look the child's parents in the eyes, and their faces pale slightly at the vicious smirk that twists the corners of her bright red lips.
"Do you feel more powerful now?"
They say not a word as she slowly stalks her way towards them.
"Do you treat yourself with the same severity when you make mistakes? No, you people don't understand the concept of punishment. You keep going and going...picking and slicing...till there is nothing left. That's not a punishment; it's torture, and the practice isn't good parenting it's abuse."
Reaching the father, her own distant cousin, she slowly squats down in front of him. Without looking away, she lifts up the bottle of wine that could pay for an entire family meal and lifts it bottoms up over his lap.
"I want you to remember this moment, Shiro, and these words like their gospel. You will start attending family counseling. No, I don't want to hear your excuses. This was not a one-time thing. Every time I see you, you're picking at this child, and it's going to stop. I will be keeping close track of your progress, and if I hear even a whisper of you not making progress...I will be knocking down your door to sit pretty at the table, and I am not like any dinner guest you've had before."
Giving the bottle a final shake, she tosses it in the general direction of her step-grandmother and smiling vindictively at the sound of something breaking.
"Make me come to your home for dinner, and by the time I leave...I'll see that you're completely cut off from family funds, and stripped of your position. Your daughter's funds, however, will remain in place and managed by my estate. Do you understand me, Shiro? Am I making myself clear?"
"H-hai, crystal clear cousin..."
Munin's grin settles into a satisfied smile and gives little Meiko a wink before standing back up. Her hand moving to rest on her hips, she glances around the table, as though seeing it for the first time and laughs.
"Well, look at this mess, and you idiots wanted to fuss over a little bit of spilled water...yet now you're all so quiet. Funny how that works."
She turns her head as Krahe approaches the table with his own amused smirk, and her red coat folded over his arm. In all honesty, she hadn't realized he stepped away.
"Krahe..."
He cuts her off with a shake of his head and rough chuckle.
"Yeah, I know. I already told the restaurant where to send the bill...Let's get out of here."
He offers his hand up to help her down and already has her coat ready when her feet touched the ground.
Neither of them looks back as they step out into the brisk October air. They don't exchange a single word...No words are needed.
I suppose that life is really just the dreams or nightmares that we make it.
MUNIN 無人
[Japanese interpretation: unmanned, uninhabited, empty.]
Munin gazes up at her graffitied locker with tired eyes and filled with resignation. The corners of her cupid-bow lips pulled down into a frown that seemed unnatural on her sweet face.
She wasn't surprised by the graffiti, though a part of her wished she could be. Unfortunately, such harassment was becoming more frequent, but it still hurt to be faced with such disdain.
To say she was starting to hate the sight of her foreign name forced into the Kanji variation...would be a vast understatement. That really was the least of her worries, though. Her real concern was the fact that the taunts weren't just becoming more frequent...they were escalating.
One small hand sweeps the bangs from her doll-like face with a disheartened sigh.
There was no sense in reacting, it would just encourage them, so she would just have to clean it off before Hugin saw it. Part of her knew she should tell him, but she hated to bother him with something so petty, and...and part of her was ashamed. As illogical as she knew that was...
She shakes her head in denial, and clings to the concept of logic like an anchor...or a lifeline.
It was illogical, and if Hugin found out she was keeping this from him it would disappoint-
Her thoughts were cut off when she was shoved against the locker. She silently cursed herself for being so absorbed in her self pity that she didn't even know her attacker was behind her.
Strong hands clenched painfully in her hair, grinding her face into the vandalized locker.
"Well, if it isn't our little Taira Princess." It was an attractive masculine voice, and somehow that seemed wrong. Shouldn't it be the oily sleazy voice of a proper villain? However, outside of his voice...Well...
There was something about the tone behind those words that makes her stomach twist, while the feel of his damp breath on her neck makes her skin crawl. However, whatever else her captor was about to say was interrupted by a snide high pitched feminine voice.
"Silly Jin, she isn't a princess, she's a Munin. Just because she carries the Taira name doesn't mean she's a princess. No, she's nothing but a dirty little mutt."
A peal of cruel laughter from behind makes her pulse race, as the reality of the situation starts to sink in.
How many of them are there, and how far will they take their hatred this time?
The hand in her hair starts to caress against her scalp.
"She doesn't look like a dirty mutt to me, more like a pretty little doll, an empty imitation of a princess. I think your parents named you well, little one.."
His broader body shifts against her back as he starts to grind his lower body against her.
"Munin, an empty little doll. You know, small toys are nothing until they have someone to play with them. "
Another male's smug laughter was interrupted by the jealous scoff, and grating voice of her female tormentor.
"A mutt is a mutt no matter how pretty. Your father should have drowned you in the river when you were born. Then again, he was just as much a disgrace as you are."
The girl sucks air through her teeth in a disgusted tsk.
"He tarnished his family's name by marrying some Gaijin. Then he allowed her to give his mutt daughter such an idiotic name. What was he thinking?"
Each venomous word slices through her like a knife. Every instinct screaming at her to fight, but she was frozen. Her mind had become a prison that betrayed her when she needed it most.
"Don't worry, little doll. No one else will want you after today, but you'll be mine." Thin wet lips brushed against her lips along with that promise that was really more of a threat.
A whimper claws its way out of her throat only to cut off as Jin abruptly spins her around. Her body hits the locker hard enough to know the air from her lungs.
"None of that."
Her breath hitched as his hand slid over her stomach, and she couldn't even properly see his face through her mounting panic.
"Disgusting, but I can't complain. Your little perversion will get the mutt out of my way." The nasty voice drew closer as if to ensure that Munin heard every word.
"When Hugin sees what a little slut you are, he'll want nothing to do with you."
Those final words echoed around in Munin's head like a loudspeaker in an empty room.
She wants to take Hugin away...I'll be all alone.
With that thought, every repressed ounce of rage and pain unleashes in a sudden eruption of violence. Her internal prison didn't just crumble; it shattered.
"No."
Her knee jerks up, ruthlessly slamming into her attacker's groin. The sudden attack quickly followed by a vicious head-butt to his nose once he bent over in pain. There was little more than to the attacks than basic skill and desperate instinct, but it was a devastating combination.
The blood that spraying from her molester's nose went unnoticed as it speckled her pale cheek, and she swiftly finished her attack with a sound elbow to his jaw.
She was a feral creature, mindless with rage as she felt the satisfying crack tremble through her small body.
However, in this violence, she found peace. She had a purpose. She was going to tear apart anyone that tried to take her Hugin away.
The room was still shocked into silence when she struck again without hesitation. Her small hands latching into onto her tormenter's long hair with a serene smile on her blood-spattered face.
"My name is Munin. M.U.N.I.N You stupid cunt."
She uses the girl's hair to reel her in for a brutally efficient beating. Even when the screams turned to whimpers, she didn't stop. It wasn't enough. When the girl was little more than a limp mess, Munin dropped her like trash...and turned to those that were finally trying to pull her away. Did she use a stapler, a penci, or was it the metal thermos that had fallen from her locker. Honestly, she didn't know. Everything was starting to blur together, and the only thing that really mattered was that someone needed to bleed.
Somewhere in the corner of her mind, she knew her father wouldn't approve. If he could see her now, he would surely be disappointed.
Too bad daddy's dead.
"Munin...Munin...Munin."
She heard the voice as if from a distance. It was a familiar voice, vaguely she registered that it was someone precious, but everything seemed just out of reach at the moment. Nothing seemed real but everything but the feel of flesh yielding to her fists.
"MUNIN STOP!"
Gentle but firm hands carefully pried her away, and expertly restrained her against a warm chest. Just as new voices enter the room indecipherable as they seem to topple over each other to her ears.
"WHO did TH-"
"IS?"
"WHAT" "GOING on here!"
"Happened!"
"Munin, it's ok, I have you." There it was, that deep patient voice whispering soothing promises, and her struggles finally start to slow as the words penetrate her haze.
"Hugin..."
The world snaps into focus like a camera lens on a blurry picture. All of Munin's rage suddenly pouring out of her small body, leaving it to crumble limply into Hugin's embrace.
Voices continue to talk over each other, and time seems to blur...like those moments in a dream. The ones where you move from point A to B without any recollection of happened in-between.
"So, you want me to believe that Mister Yamanato attacked Miss Taira, despite her complete lack of injuries? Some witnesses paint a very different story, young man. One far more believable than yours, and you would do well to re-evaluate before spouting any more nonsense. You are only allowed in this school because of your association with the Taria family."
How could he not believe them?
It was as if the principle was looking for any excuse to twist their words. Hugin was getting angrier by the second. If this kept up, he was going to snap. Munin's dark eyes caress over her companion's knuckles turning white against the armrests. Then her dark eyes wandered back the man lecturing of them, and it was at that moment that she realizes...
He doesn't believe us because it's easier not to. Nothing is going to change his mind, and arguing will only get Hugin expelled.
They didn't want to believe that she attacked anyone other than the girl Hugin pried her off of.
It's far easier to blame this on a boy they viewed as socially beneath them, and the girl whose family made her untouchable. This way, they had to do next to nothing, and this little mess would be neatly cleaned away.
With this realization, Munin lost a little bit of her innocence but had very little time to mourn it.
I should've hit the bitch harder.
"You're right, Hugin is lying to cover for me. I lied and told him that Jin tried to molest me because he refused to go out with me. He wanted to go out with..."
She trails off, realizing that she still hadn't learned the bitch's name.
"Miss Makio."
The principal offers tersely. Beneath the desk, his hand shook slightly.
The girl was little more than a child, yet her dark eyes were utterly emotionless. There were no tears or fear, absolutely no remorse, yet they tried to say that she was the victim? His mind flashed to the sight of the preteen being loaded into the ambulance.
"Yes, Miss Makito. I was angry that he would turn me down for someone inferior to me, so I attacked her. The other boy tried to break us apart. When Hugin came in, I told him that they were attacking me, so he defended me. He was only doing what he is supposed to do. Serve me."
Bile rises up in her throat with every lie she spews. The fact that the principal was nodding along with each word makes her even sicker.
What do you do when everyone wanted a lie? You give them what they want.
They wouldn't separate her from Hugin, and he would believe her.
She was pulled from her thoughts when Hugin takes her small bruised hand in his. Suddenly she knew no matter what came from this, it would be ok.
She wasn't going to be alone.
"Miss Taira while your family name does offer you a certain amount of leniency let me assure you that it is not infinite-"
The principal keeps talking, but honestly, she'd already stopped listening. Everything was just blending together again. Time and place lost all meaning until her family arrived and were more than happy to adequately convey their displeasure.
She tried to tell them the truth on the way home, but it was pointless.
Her grandparents were more than willing to eat up the lies; she fed the principle. They never questioned the story, and any attempt to tell them otherwise was immediately shut down. It hurt, but it wasn't shocking.
The only bright side to this ordeal is that Hugin came out looking like gold. Any doubts her grandparents had about keeping him in their care as they reached their teens were dismissed.
That alone is enough to make her smile, despite the grains of rice digging into her knees.
Ok, the smile is more of a grimace.
Abstractly she knows that the events of the day will catch up with her. The sweet peace she found in the earlier violence wasn't a permanent fix, and sooner or later, her walls would come tumbling down. But for now, she's thankful for any reprieve.
If only life could continue in this twilight state of shock...it would be a dream. Unfortunately, this dream was never meant to last.
It was in the middle of the night when the large house was quiet and still...that her small body started to shiver. Then the shivers turned into shakes, and a keening sound began to bubble up from her throat, though her jaw felt locked shut.
Trapped, she was caught in the confines of her mind again. The panic, starting to settle into her bones with a dull ache when suddenly...there he was.
"Munin. Shit Munin, come here."
Hugin held her patiently for what seemed like hours until finally, the words began to tumble out. Sometimes flowing, other times stumbling, and worst of all choking with tears.
He listened to everything until his own hands trembled with rage. Despite his own emotions never interrupting. It feels like hours before the shivering finally stops, and Munin slips into the blissful oblivion of sleep.
If only I could stay in this forever.
The echo of her own thoughts drifts back to her as she floats through the dark. She was alone...she hated being alone.
Maybe she was being punished because she was supposed to be dead. Everyone else had died.
Were they floating in their own peaceful darkness too?
Thunder rolls through the darkness, and with it comes the horror.
Pale dead hands slick and swollen with water, pulling her down into the water. The seat belt strapping her to the seat of a car filling up with water.
Trapped, she was confined again, and her only company...were the rotting water-swollen corpses that surrounded her. Blaming her for being alive when they had been left to die
"MUNIN! Fuck, Munin, wake up! It's just a dream!"
Dark eyes fly open and wildly dart around the interior of the car, before settling on another set of eyes. She was expecting to see brown, but the eyes that meet her's are grey.
Krähe.
Suddenly she realizes the screams that fill the cab are her own, and they abruptly cut off. Leaving the sound of her own heavy breathing to fill the silence.
Of course, it's Krähe. It's 2019, I'm not a twelve-year-old girl anymore and Hugin...I have no idea where Hugin is.
Slowly the world comes into focus. The interior of the car. The storm raging outside. Richard peeking over Krähe's shoulder with worry. Krähe's own face was hard with apprehension, only softening when he sees that she is fully awake.
"There you are, that was some nightmare."
She turns her eyes away from his far too knowing look and instead gazes out the window at the storm.
"Yeah...a nightmare." Her voice is nearly hoarse from sleep and scream.
If you dream about memory, is it a nightmare...or just a memory?
Either way, it was nothing that Zachariah needed to worry about.
She licks her lips and clears her throat.
"We'll go with that."
Some old habits die hard.
With a hand far steadier than it should be, Munin flips on the radio to indicate that she didn't want to talk about it.
"Oh, life could be a dream.
If I could take you up in paradise up above
If you would tell me, I'm the only one that you love
Life could be a dream, sweetheart."
Oh, the irony.
It would have been nice if that were the end of it, but the past was a horribly tenacious thing, especially when you were trying to avoid it.
Later that day, she found herself buried neck-deep in it once again. Only this time, waking up wasn't an option.
Why am I here?
The thought must have run through Munin's head a hundred times in the past thirty minutes.
Her eyes lazily drift over the luxuriousness of one of New York's most excellent restaurants and then back to her "family."
This was definitely her own private hell.
Her only consolation is knowing "grandmother" hated being in the same room with her nearly as much as she hated to be here.
It's with this thought that her eyes meet with the other woman, which Immediately prompts Munin to slouch deeper into her chair. The woman's nostrils flaring in instant silent fury was like eating icing from a spoon. Immensely satisfying instant gratification.
Krahe chuckles from her side, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
"Munin, my dear, you're awfully quiet. I'm sure you could think of something of substance to say if you try hard enough."
Munin swore the old hag must eat the souls of kittens for breakfast to maintain her supernatural ability to turn words into icepicks. She was old enough now not to be hurt by the sharp bite of them and mature enough to not let herself be drawn into the woman's petty games.
That didn't mean she wasn't going to do it anyway.
With a sweet smile, she meets the older woman's eyes and matches her frigid tone. Even subtracting a few degrees for good measure.
"I have plenty of things to say, Lin...just nothing to say to you."
The older woman immediately sputters and gaps at her in outrage.
"How dare you speak to your grandmother with such disrespect! Yo-" The shrilly spoken words were abruptly cut off before the tirade could even begin.
"Step-grandmother, we don't share blood. Thank god."
Munin's fluttering of lashes, and fuck you smile had the matron's eyes bulging and her face flushing with outrage.
The lines were drawn, and the battle set to begin...when suddenly it was interrupted.
It happens all at once. A simple excited movement too close to a glass of water. It's the perfect example of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The elbow hits the glass, and the water spills out like liquid chaos.
For Munin, it's like watching everything in slow motion. The sudden exclamations of righteous indignation ringing in her ears, and in an instant, she's sucked down the rabbit hole of the past.
Water spilled over the table to drip into her lap. Her small hands clenching tight to hide their shaking, while her stomach churns with humiliation.
Immediately she braces herself for the backlash of her clumsiness. It wasn't like they would hold back just because of their current visitor.
Great Uncle Jiro may have been a hero to her father, but he was a black sheep to the rest of the family. Unwanted, just like her.
Her stomach churns even more with sudden realization. They were going to make an example of her.
"Atsuko, is it not enough that you are a constant source of shame to this family? Must you be this clumsy too?"
Munin's teeth grit together at the use of her middle name.
"My first name is Munin, it's the name I would prefer you to use."
An outraged scoff was the not so unexpected reaction. It was the same song and dance nearly every night. Every time they started it, she wondered why she took the bait, but a small part of her knew it was because she refused to fully roll over and die. Submitting to her grandmother entirely would be the same as resigning herself to a slow death.
Though, it's not like I'm all that alive anyways.
Was Munin's own rueful observation.
"How dare you take such a tone with me, you ungrateful child? That ridiculous name has led to enough trouble. Honestly, we would be better off legally removing it entirely. Perhaps that would curtail the petty rebellious tendencies you've been exhibiting."
Munin's breath hitches in her throat at her grandmother's callous smile. Beside her, Hugin shifts in his seat with mounting fury. The restraining hand she put on his knee was the only thing keeping him in check.
"Oh, did you think we wouldn't know? Just because you haven't done anything that can officially be disciplined, doesn't mean your dishonorable conduct has gone unnoticed. In fact, it's my opinion that you're not fit to accept your inheritance in its entirety."
"That will be quite enough of that, Lin."
Jiro's rough voice cuts through her grandmother's rant like a blade. The words were spoken calmly, almost dismissively, but they commanded the attention of everyone in the room.
Munin turns her shocked gaze from her grandmother's gaping mouth to look at her Great Uncle with something akin to wonder.
"You've no say in the inheritance of my great-niece. My brother may choose to indulge your petty prattle, but I am sick of it."
Jiro finally lifts his gaze from his plate to meet Munin's wide-eyed gaze across the table.
"Munin, I heard there was an incident at your school. Tell me what happened."
For the first time in weeks, she found herself desperate to tell someone the truth. The need was so strong she could taste it, but when she opened her mouth, out poured the lies.
"I see, it can't be helped then."
Jiro turned his attention back to his food.
"Go to your room, and think about what you've told me. You'll not be finishing dinner with the rest of us. No, Hugin, you will stay here."
Numbly she pushes away from the table and quietly makes her way upstairs.
Forty minutes passed before Uncle Jiro politely knocks on the door. After she gave permission, he enters with a gentle smile on his handsome weathered face.
"Do you mind if we have a word?"
"I don't mind...sir." Her voice was soft, nearly defeated as she looks at the floor in shame.
Jiro pauses to take in her look with a gentle frown, before crossing the floor with measured steps and settling at the foot of the bed.
"Do you know why you were sent to your room?"
Munin shrugs her shoulders with a tired sigh, and began to list her many faults.
"I'm clumsy, and my behavior is offensive."
"You think you were sent to your room because you spilled a glass of water?" This was uttered with a mixture of disbelief and irritation that has Munin blinking in confusion.
"What else would I have been sent away for?"
Would this man that her father loved so much add to her lists of faults?
The internal question brought a burning sensation to the back of her eyes. She really wasn't sure she could handle that right now.
Meanwhile, her uncle takes in a deep breath and begins to rub the bridge of his nose.
Inside he was furious that his brother would allow his second wife to treat a child so poorly. The bitch deserved to be beaten, but such thoughts wouldn't help the child. At least, not right now.
It takes him a moment to compose himself before he turns back to her.
"You were sent to your room for lying to me."
Their eyes meet, hers filled with shock and his patient.
"How about you tell me what happened at school one more time."
By the time she had told him everything, silent tears had burned tracks down her face. It was cleansing.
"I take it this other behavior is related?"
She hesitates only a moment before nodding. It was true, all her recent activities could be traced back to that incident.
"I see, can you truly validate these punishments?"
A small line of confusion forms between her brow at his question.
"I don't...I don't understand."
"That's not surprising. Most people fail to grasp the full concept of punishment or the responsibility that comes with it. An honorable punishment is motivated by a strong sense of justice, a clear outlook of accountability, and an understanding of absolution."
The confusion clears her delicate features to be replaced with rapt attention.
"Absolution?" She makes the word a question even as she savored it.
"Yes, my dear, once a person's been punished for their transgression, they can't be punished for it again."
His tone remains soft but gains a new layer of stern authority. Not to scare Munin, but rather to reassure her with a solid structure she could trust.
"I sent you to your room for lying. That means you were punished and held accountable for your actions. After tonight I will never punish you in any way for lying to me tonight. The slate is wiped clean, and you are absolved. Also, your punishment was proportionate to your crime. Sometimes we need punishment for absolution...more than we need it for justice. It allows us to tear down the molehills that we have built into mountains. Do you understand?"
Munin automatically begins to nod her head but stops with a look of adorable concentration. Her uncle wanted the truth, and that thought filled her with a quiet exhileration.
"I think I understand, but...how do I know for sure?"
Jiro's eyes twinkle with amusement at her question. He hoped that one day she could look back at this moment and consider it as precious as he does.
"Knowing something isn't the same as understanding it. Some lessons you have to grow into."
"That makes even less sense." She said this with apparent exasperation that Jiro has to bite back a bark of laughter.
"Wait, you said an honorable punishment, but what about the dishonorable?"
His brows raise at the question, and he smiles in appreciation. This girl would be quite a threat one day with her large adorable eyes to hide that razor-sharp brain.
"I'm happy you were paying attention."
He affectionately ruffles her black hair, and after her initial flinch, she relaxes into the touch. The exchange almost bringing tears to his own eyes even as it brought a rage. No child should flinch like that...
"Some seek to punish others for satisfying their own egotistical sense of power. This power is used as a crutch for their own insecurities and fears. They tell themselves pretty lies to justify their petty actions, build themselves up as some great paragon. When really, they're just malicious cowards."
"It's when we find ourselves dealing with such individuals that we are faced with the decision to transcend their petty definition of punishment...or to be dragged down into it."
His gentle eyes slide over her somber little face.
"If you were faced with such a person, would you transcend, or would you punish someone over a little spilled water?"
That night she and Hugin packed their bags. The next day Uncle Jiro took them home.
A small sniffle beneath the hushed berating voices snaps Munin back to the present.
Her dark eyes focus on the small child, trying not to cry over spilled water. The tiny half sobbed apology is what finally pulls Munin's trigger.
Everyone jumps when a hand slams down on the table.
"You know, I was going to humor your asinine mind games, and just make up some stupid excuse to leave as soon as possible...But..."
Their eyes widen comically when she climbs onto the table.
"I've changed my mind. Krahe, scoot back...I don't want any of this mess to spill onto you."
Munin stands on top of a table, her designer heels firmly planted on the pristine table cloth. Her backdrop is pure dining opulence of New York's Le Bernardin and its many elite patrons gaping at her in disbelief. The Taria clan looks on in horror as she stands above them with a guileless smile.
"You people...truly disgust me."
She begins to pace along the table, purposely knocking over glasses of water and wine.
"To most of the world, the concept of punishment is straightforward and simple. Merriam and Webster defines punishment as suffering, pain, or loss that serves as retribution. Uncle Jiro believed that the concept of punishment was anything but simple..."
A loud scoff has her twisting her head awkwardly to meet the offender's eyes with a cold, vicious glare that had them quickly averting their eyes.
"To Uncle Jiro, the punishment was not only retribution but a chance for absolution. I know many may think of me as a monster by the I die, but I believe in that."
She turns slowly to take in the dark glares of her family and completely ignoring the mess that earned her the glares in the first place.
"I believe it's people like you that are the real monsters. You sit like vultures on your self-righteous pedestals...waiting to prey on those weaker than you just to make yourself feel more powerful."
She turns to look the child's parents in the eyes, and their faces pale slightly at the vicious smirk that twists the corners of her bright red lips.
"Do you feel more powerful now?"
They say not a word as she slowly stalks her way towards them.
"Do you treat yourself with the same severity when you make mistakes? No, you people don't understand the concept of punishment. You keep going and going...picking and slicing...till there is nothing left. That's not a punishment; it's torture, and the practice isn't good parenting it's abuse."
Reaching the father, her own distant cousin, she slowly squats down in front of him. Without looking away, she lifts up the bottle of wine that could pay for an entire family meal and lifts it bottoms up over his lap.
"I want you to remember this moment, Shiro, and these words like their gospel. You will start attending family counseling. No, I don't want to hear your excuses. This was not a one-time thing. Every time I see you, you're picking at this child, and it's going to stop. I will be keeping close track of your progress, and if I hear even a whisper of you not making progress...I will be knocking down your door to sit pretty at the table, and I am not like any dinner guest you've had before."
Giving the bottle a final shake, she tosses it in the general direction of her step-grandmother and smiling vindictively at the sound of something breaking.
"Make me come to your home for dinner, and by the time I leave...I'll see that you're completely cut off from family funds, and stripped of your position. Your daughter's funds, however, will remain in place and managed by my estate. Do you understand me, Shiro? Am I making myself clear?"
"H-hai, crystal clear cousin..."
Munin's grin settles into a satisfied smile and gives little Meiko a wink before standing back up. Her hand moving to rest on her hips, she glances around the table, as though seeing it for the first time and laughs.
"Well, look at this mess, and you idiots wanted to fuss over a little bit of spilled water...yet now you're all so quiet. Funny how that works."
She turns her head as Krahe approaches the table with his own amused smirk, and her red coat folded over his arm. In all honesty, she hadn't realized he stepped away.
"Krahe..."
He cuts her off with a shake of his head and rough chuckle.
"Yeah, I know. I already told the restaurant where to send the bill...Let's get out of here."
He offers his hand up to help her down and already has her coat ready when her feet touched the ground.
Neither of them looks back as they step out into the brisk October air. They don't exchange a single word...No words are needed.
I suppose that life is really just the dreams or nightmares that we make it.
