Character vignette: Yuki Shinomori

Cold.

Why is it so cold?

Rain?... When did it rain?.... Why am I wet?...Did the roof leak?

Grass. Wait?...I'm outside? Why am I sleeping outside?

My muscles contracted in my stomach as I attempted to lift myself off the wet ground. A jolt...pain shot through my forehead. My hand instinctively rose to meet the skin of my forehead, to also find it wet. A strange smell now filled my sinuses; it smelled strangely like money...

As my hand pulled away from my head, all I could see, all I could think about was...Red.

My hand was red. Blood.

I reached for my head again, this time twinging in pain as I apparently found the origin of the blood.

Why am I bleeding? What happened? Was I mugged?....wait...

I searched the wet earth by my side for my bag. It was still there. I continued searching around me. About three meters from my bag I saw two prone forms. Blood soaked through their clothes.

I was with my parents.....

Tadaima

First version of the beginning of my story…. the new beginning so to speak. Completely reworked the characters – actually reverted them to the original idea…

Tadaima

Darkness greeted Miyabi Shibata as she stepped off of the airplane. Flight 780 from Seattle, Washington, United States to Tokyo-Haneda Airport, Japan. Black clouds tumbled over the tarmacs that crept outward from Haneda’s main hub. Thunder rolled above fog that seeped in from the bay. Drops of water, falling from the clouds above, flowed down the windows, running through the crevasses in the sidewalk and into the drains that dotted the street. Now, Miyabi huddled under the overhang covering the airport’s entrance watching the faces that rushed by.

Where is she? I told her the flight would land at 5pm.

Brown hair whipped past her face and shivers wracked her small frame. Pellets of water struck her from the side. She shivered again. Her clothing clung to her skin.

Great!....Just great. You had to forget to pack a coat in the middle of monsoon season…

A flash of lightning. A face. Kari! Miyabi bolted over to a girl standing beneath an oversized umbrella. Rain soaked her a second time.

“You’re late, Kari.”

“No I’m not. I’ve been looking for you. It’s taken me this long because I thought you had more sense that to stand outside in a rainstorm without a coat.”

“Hikari Tanaka! You wipe that smirk off your face!”

Miyabi glowered at her friend. Kari’s response: laughter. Kari laughed at Miyabi’s attempt to be mad. Miyabi huffed a few times before she couldn’t help but share her friend’s mirth, even if it was at her own expense. The two huddled under Kari’s umbrella. Miyabi was pushed away several times when she attempted to huddle closer.

“Ewww. You’re wet. You smell like wet airplane”

Miyabi looked astonished at the claim, sputtering a while before giving up trying to think of a sufficient comeback.

“I guess I do.”

Kari laughed again. The trip to the train station, several blocks, took longer than usual. The slow pace that prevented either of them from getting pelted by the water bullets falling from the sky forced them to take twice as long to reach said station. As the two swiped their train passes, Kari decided to break the comfortable silence first.

“How is your mother?

Miyabi glared, more so at the question that at Kari. She sighed.

“She’s fine… so is the new man in her life…”

“Oh?... So you finally met him?”

“No. I was never that lucky… but I did have to hear her rave about him at every opportunity. How great he is. How much money he has. How great his children are. How come I’m not more like them?...”

“Whoa Miiya… watch those poison darts… you might take me out with one of those.”

“Gomen Kari…. I just…”

She bit her lip, ashamed of how much emotion had erupted from her.

“I know Miiya… I know…”

“Next stop, Saitama! Next Stop, Saitama!”

Brakes locked. Metal groaned as the train slowed to a crawl and rolled to a stop in the station. Miyabi looked down at her phone, noting that an hour had passed since she and Kari had began the ride. The trip had been made longer due to the raging waters that fell from the heavens. The exited the train station. Rain pelted Miyabi again before Kari could open the umbrella. Under the tiny shelter the duo made their way into their building, each carrying one of Miyabi’s bags to the elevator.

Remnants of rain drops speckle the carpet beneath their feet. Water dripped from Miyabi’s hair onto the tunic top she wore, causing the blue fabric to turn almost black. She rubbed the arm holding the handle of her rolling bag with her free arm, trying to draw warmth back into her damp skin. A ding. The doors slid open and the girls step onto the eleventh floor, Miyabi leading the way around the halls, the rolling bag shadowing her every move.

1134…1135…1136…1137!... Finally…home at last…

The key slides into the lock, the tumblers clinking into place, and the deadbolt released its grip. The door whispers open, swinging inward, and Miyabi stepped out of her swampy shoes before stepping onto the polished wood floors of the apartment beyond. Kari slides in the door behind her, pulling it to and flipping the lock. She laid Miyabi’s second bag next to the first before mimicking her roommate’s actions and shuffling her way into the main room.

Miyabi walked towards an open door, a bedroom, grabbing the edges of her shirt and peeling it off of her wet skin. She tossed it into a hamper next to the door of the bathroom. While in the bathroom she changed out of the rest of her wet clothing, replacing them with dry ones and walking back out with a towel across her shoulders. Miyabi’s hair had dried a bit, but it still hung limply on her shoulders. Kari reached into the closet and grabbed a dry shirt, handing it to the girl who had forgotten her coat as she passed by.

“Maybe this will teach you to prepare for any situation.”

Kari snickered. Miyabi snatched the dry shirt from her hand and threw it over her small, much dryer, frame, glowering the whole time.

“Shut up Hikari!” Miyabi made a face and shut the door to the bathroom.

Miyabi walked around her roommate and over to a short black stand sitting in the corner of the room. The stand cradled a worn, but well treated guitar, one of several she had stashed around the apartment. She lifted the guitar from the place it had rested for the past month, and carried it over to the couch in the main room. She sat in a chair by the window, which now had several rivers of rain running down the glass, and brought the guitar up to her lap.

“Tadaima Hikari-chan.” She grinned.

“Okaeri nasai Miiya-chan.” Kari returned the expression, curling up into the near corner of the couch, clicking the light on, and opening the worn pages of a good book.

*~*~*

Melodies whispers through the evening air. Fingers and strings ran together in a veritable symphony of motion. Miyabi had spent the two previous days at a nearby park, curled up on a park bench with her guitar in her lap and a notebook at her side. Words had flowed from her pen in torrents, much like the rain that had greeted her upon her return to Japan. Music was her rest, her home. She reveled in the ability to put to paper all the emotions she felt seeing her mother happy without her father and the thoughts she had after returning home. After each flood would stop, the notebook would be set aside and the guitar picked up again from its case sitting at her feet. The final note struck, and the song faded into the wind. Miyabi raised her delicate face from her guitar to see reds and blues playing harmoniously in the sky beyond the tall buildings of Saitama. Her gaze returned to the guitar in her lap. The head gleamed in the dying sun that reflected off the glass buildings. This guitar was her favorite; she only took it out when she was in the mood to write. The guitar was worn but well kept. She still remembered handing the money to the shop attendant. It was used, he had told her. She didn’t care then. That had been 15 years ago.

She strummed the guitar and upon noting a discordant note, adjusted it so the symphony could resume. This symphony had been her lifeline, her raft as she floated upon an ocean of misery. Kari had been her rock, who had kept her from wading too far into the sea. The music began again – softly at first, but soon with gathered courage and experience she played. Stars twinkled into existence above her, those that sat above the park anyway, but she didn’t notice them, only the reverberations that soothed the soul. She hugged the instrument close as she played. This was her peace. Her nirvana. Her home.

Again, a final note struck. She returned the guitar to its case, snapping the locks shut. The cased groaned with age as she lifted it from the grass. She turned away from the sun and began to make her way back home.

She walked through the door, setting the case against the wall and kicking off her shoes.

“Tadaima Kari-chan!”

“Okaeri nasai Miiya. Welcome home.”

Miyabi Shibata

Who is Miyabi Shibata?

She is a character I have been working on for three years now. She originally appeared as a girl sitting in a park, playing a guitar at sunset. She then went through various afflictions while I was inspired by the story of Kaoru Amane and Aya "Ikeuchi" Kita. During this time Miyabi's friend Hikari "Kari" Tanaka came into being. I'll talk about her in a later post.

Miyabi has, in all incarnations, been a musician by hobby or trade. Some writing books tell you to write what you know, and because I am a musician I chose to make her one as well. I also decided to try to write from a different perspective than a males.... so I chose a female main character.

Miyabi has lost her father in some way, I haven't figured that out yet. Her mother has since decided to move on and has found someone else. Miyabi resents this highly.... I won't go into this further at the moment.

Mother lives in America - has only appeared anecdotally so far. New guy has children - Miyabi doesn't like them - though not through any fault of their own.... Her mother likes to compare them to her.

Stay tuned for part 2 of Miyabi Shibata

Statement of Purpose

What if?

That is what I asked myself before beginning this blog. What if I decided to record the writing process in my blog. To record how I have and will go about constructing the story of Miyabi Shibata and Yuki Shinomori. Wouldn't that be interesting? I'm sure this has been done before in some way, shape, or form; but I think I would like to treat this as my writer's journal/diary and allow others to see how I've created my characters, etc.

I also have to admit that my reasons for doing this are not purely interested in sharing the creative process, but also giving myself a swift kick in the rear to get this story started. Also, this may serve to promote interest in my forthcoming story and help me in the future.

I have to say that I am as interested in finding out how this experiment will turn out as others may be.

Snowfall

This is the first chapter of my new story. It will be a “novel in short stories.”

Snowfall

Music thumped the walls of the building surrounding a small dance studio. Three girls danced, swaying in the middle of the dance hall, one leading the other two in a new routine. Sun speckled the floor, coming in from the wall of windows behind the girls. The dancers moved fluidly through the large patches of sunlight. Music faded, the leader walked over to a pile of sheet music.

The door slapped open. A young woman blew in, sweeping her hair out of her face.

“Where is Yuki?”

The leader brushed her blond hair behind her ear, to keep it from tickling her bare shoulders.

“I don’t know Miiya.”

The other two women, sitting cross-legged on the polished dance floor, watched the exchange between their leader and the slightly shorter brown-haired girl. ­­Both shrugged as Miyabi’s eyes passed over them.

“I called her last night,” Sayaka began, offering up whatever information she could. She caught Miyabi’s gaze, “but, she didn’t call me back.”

Miyabi sighed. “So did I. We were supposed to get dinner together.”

She grunted as she fell into a sitting position on the floor next to the leader, Kiyoko. Kiyoko glanced down at Miyabi, brushing her blond hair back again.

“She probably has a good reason for skipping out on dinner – her parents probably called on her or something. Let’s just focus on getting this new routine for the time being. She knows what time to be here.”

“Ok Kiyo-riida!” the second girl chimed from beside Sayaka.

Kiyoko glared at Ayame’s pet name for her. A devious smirk crossed her face.

“Ok. For that, I will make you practice twice as hard.”

A collective groan rang out. Kiyoko ignored the protests and clicked the music player on.

*~*~*

The sun, shining through the dance hall windows at the start of practice, now only came through in reflections of the neighboring buildings. The fluid moves seen before Miyabi’s arrival, were now marked with errors. All of their minds dwelled on the worry Miyabi had carried with her. Yuki. Each member would wander off during the dance to occasionally check their phones, earning a hypocritical glare from Kiyoko, because she, too, checked her phone every chance she had.

“She’s not here yet!” Ayame threw herself down against the mirrored wall, black rivers of hair forming on the floor beside her. She twisted the cap off her water bottle as soon as she snatched it from her bag.

“Alright then, I’ll call her!” Kiyoko growled at the others for forcing her hand. She had tried to put on a brave face in front of the other girls, however as she dialed, she chewed her lower lip and began treading a path back and forth in front of the windows.

You have reached Shinomori Yuki’s phone. Please leave a message and I promise to call you back.

Kiyoko sighed as she flipped the phone shut.

“Ok…now I’m worried. That girl can’t live without her phone for more than an hour.”

The girls began chattering, Kiyoko trying to will them to be calm. As leader, she was supposed to be the voice of reason. Miyabi slipped her phone out of her bag, checking it for the umpteenth time.

“Now what?”

“I guess I should send you guys home before the rush hour traffic gets too bad. I’m going to stay here and see if I can find someone who may have heard from her.”

“Ok Kiyo.”

Within five minutes the dance hall had cleared. Kiyoko headed for the elevator to find their manager. The others weaved their way through the torrent of people that businesses released every day. As she made her way to the train station, Miyabi dialed the phone.

“Speed dial number one.”

The phone rang several times, and like the times before, Yuki’s recorded voice came through the speaker.

You have reached Shinomori Yuki’s phone. Please leave a message and I promise to call you back.

*~*~*

An apartment building. Saitama. Lights from the street below glistened in the glass eyes of the neighboring buildings. The street teemed with life, flowing to and from the many bars, restaurants, and ramen stalls in the area. Miyabi Shibata nestled into a chair by the window. A long forgotten television sat murmuring in the opposite corner. A single plate and large glass soaked in the kitchen sink. Another small glass, filled with a clear liquid sat on the table next to her, a ring of condensation forming at its base. Other than the TV, a single light hovering over the glass next to her was the only light in the darkened apartment. A book lay on one of the chair’s arms, and like the TV, it was also forgotten. A jingle began whispering from the TV. The news had started. It was late.

“Good evening. Our big story tonight: A popular singer’s family has been found murdered in their home. They were found this morning by the singer’s older brother….”

“Great…another killing…why do people kill?”

“The singer was also found at the scene, severely injured. She has been taken to the hospital and remains in critical condition at this time. The singer’s identity had remained a mystery until an hour ago, when her agency called to confirm. The singer is the youngest member of the pop group Sunlight: Yuki Shinomori.”

“…….” Miyabi looked up at the reflection of the TV in the window, catching a short glimpse of Yuki’s picture before the news program switched to some story about politics, or who wore what where. Color drained from her face. She ran over to her bag and snatched up her phone. She punched the number two speed dial number. The other line rang twice.

Moshi moshi? Miiya-chan?

“Kiyoko… did you see the news?”

No?...Miiya, no one at the office would tell me anything….I’m still in the building.

“Leave. Meet me at the Shibuya Station – in front of Hachiko. I’ll call Ayame, can you call Sayaka?”

Sure. See you there.

*~*~*

21:00

Red numbers blurred into vision. The young woman lying under a blue-covered bed turned her eyes away from the clock next to her. The room remained a mere cloud in her sight. Her eyebrows furrowed. She reached up to brush her hair back, wincing as soon as finger met forehead. A bandage covered part of her forehead, invoking a second brow furrowing. She leaned to her side to sit up, only to be met by a set of hands, which gently kept her from moving any further forward.

“But… I’m home?... Wait…isn’t that Miiya’s voice?”

“Miiya-chan, what are you doing here?” the girl tried to say. Nothing came out.

“That’s odd… maybe I’m sick?”

“Yuki,” the gentle voice began again. “You need to stay in bed, Yuki-chan.”

“Miiya?!...Why is she here?”

The girl ceased her forward motion and settled back into the bed. She looked around for her friend, only to be met by the cloud yet again. However, the fog was beginning to fade. Harsh light forced her eyes shut.

“Why is it so bright in here?”

Florescent lighting tore through the fog revealing glaring white walls.

“Wait… my walls aren’t white… where am I?”

Yuki tried to sit up a second time, slightly panicked this time.

“Yuki…Yuki!...calm down… you’re in the hospital… don’t freak out.”

“My sight…it’s weird…wait…the hospital?”

The girl settled down a bit at the insistence of her friend. Her clearing eyes allowed her to catch sight of Miyabi’s face to her right. On the opposite side she noticed for the first time her other friends sitting silently. Kiyoko, her leader; Sayaka; and Ayame all sat in the corner, two in the reclining chair, the other sitting against the wall. Each watched her pensively, on edge. After taking in her surroundings, her eyes returned to Miyabi’s.

“Why are there tears in their eyes?”

“What’s wrong?” She managed to croak the question before pain clenched her throat. Her hands moved up to her neck and found a second bandage binding it. Her eyebrows furrowed once again.

Miyabi gave a sad smile, tears threatening to run from the corners of her eyes.

“You… you don’t remember? Do you, Yuki?”

“Miiya-chan looks like she hasn’t slept in days…”

A bitter laugh broke from Miyabi’s tight smile.

“Yuki-chan… do you know what day it is?”

Yuki nodded slightly.

“Of course I know what day it is… its Tuesday. We have practice tomorrow…and…oh no!... I completely forgot dinner…”

Miyabi took in Yuki’s sudden surge of panic and smiled sadly. “Yuki… you don’t have to worry about dinner… you didn’t forget.”

Yuki’s eyes relaxed. Her breathing slowed.

“Yuki…it’s Saturday.”

Yuki’s eyes burst open to their widest. She coughed as she tried to speak again.

“Gomen Yuki-chan…ano… damatte desu.”

Clattering broke the sudden silence, plastic and metal bounced on the concrete floor. Yuki followed the source of the noise and saw Kiyoko, now standing. Sayaka now sat in the floor rubbing her posterior.

“Hey!” Sayaka yelled, snatching her phone off the cold floor and resuming her position in the chair.

“This is getting frustrating… Yuki…” Kiyoko caught Miyabi’s eyes piercing her. “Miiya, stop looking at me like that… she needs to know.”

Confusion bubbled up in Yuki’s eyes. “What?” She coughed, her frame shaking.

“Yuki… you’ve been in a coma the past few days. You were attacked… you and your parents…”
Horror overtook the look of confusion that had resided on Yuki’s face since she had awoken.

“What?...my parents?...”

Memories of Tuesday night flooded her mind. A horrible scream exploded from her lungs. A deep hacking cough rattled her small frame. Tears erupted from her eyes, and sobs took up where the coughing had left her trembling body. Miyabi pulled Yuki gently into an embrace, followed closely by the other members of Sunlight, each touch was as gentle as if she were porcelain. Rain fell in the small hospital room, a private storm of grief and rage, while the city around them went about their nightly tasks on a beautiful spring night.

*~*~*

Umbrellas dotted the sea of grass and stone. The sky wept, seemingly at the loss of life being mourned in the human ceremony it truly paid no heed to. The ceremony centered on two closed wooden caskets. At their feet sat a single chair. Four umbrellas converged on the person sitting, protecting the young woman from the rain that fell. Miyabi Shibata stood behind her friend, one hand on Yuki’s shoulder and the other holding the central umbrella. The three other members of Sunlight stood to either side, also reaching out to comfort the girl. Yuki Shinomori sat stoically, the tears that had fallen in the hospital room were used up. She had no more tears to shed for her parents, who now lay hidden behind the wood veneer of the caskets.

Gone forever… Kami-sama….why?

The still face refused to convey the raging thoughts that flooded Yuki’s mind. Several members of other groups, as well as managers who had grown close to Sunlight surrounded the five, beyond that were members of Sunlight’s families. Framed pictures of Yuki’s parents sat staring back at the crowd that had gathered, while one of Yuki’s uncles shared his memories of his brother and sister-in-law.

Miyabi knelt behind the chair, still holding the umbrella over her head, and whispered something to Yuki. Something that wasn’t lost on the other members, but the rain drowned out for the rest of the mourners. Yuki’s snowy demeanor shattered, and for a split second, a peace settled over her face. She turned to look at Miyabi, lifted her hand to the hand Miyabi had resting on her shoulder, and gave as much of a smile as she could give to her friend. Miyabi returned the smile and clenched the hand that now rested on hers. Yuki’s gaze returned to the scene before her, the mask once again covering her face. Forgotten words from those who spoke continued to be washed away by the single phrase Miyabi had uttered.

I’m here for you, Yuki-chan. I will always be here for you.