Margaret's expression brightened. "Oh, you want to analyze
Jin
," she said. "That's all right, then."
"Mother!"
Jonathan's smile was totally disarming. "Do you really mind, Jin? I promise not to form any crackpot theories."
Jin was not disarmed in the least. "I'd rather you didn't," she said, tearing off a piece of chicken like a lioness ripping into her kill.
"I suppose it rather was too personal of me," Jonathan said. "I apologize."
"Nothing to apologize for," Jin said. "In fact, I think I will show you my room after all." She swallowed what she was eating and dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "It's upstairs, second door on the right. I go first, though. Thanks for dinner, Mom."
"You didn't eat much," Margaret said.
"Not much for a teamster, you mean. I'm stuffed." Jin got up from the table. "I'll go on ahead," she said to Jonathan. "Or do you need help with the dishes?"
"Thanks for the offer, but I can manage. I wouldn't want to stand in the way of boyfriend/daughter bonding. Up to a point, that is," she said pointedly.
"I'll be up in a minute, and I promise to keep my hands to myself," Jonathan said, directing the last bit to Margaret.
"Good, if you want to continue to have hands," Margaret said. "A word to the wise -- my Lotus Blossom is fierce when cornered."
Mother
, Jin thought grimly,
You don't know the half of it
.
Jin left the dining room, crossed the living room into the foyer and took the stairs two at a time up to her old room. Once inside the door Jin saw that, like her mother's usual view of the truth, her remarks about keeping Jin's room as a shrine were sort of true but only up to a point. Oh, the poster of some long-forgotten schoolgirl crush was still on the wall, and the ruffled bedspread and comforter hadn't changed, but Jin's algebra book had been placed in the bookcase instead of under the bed where she'd kicked it after graduation, and the various minor ribbons and trophies she'd won in debate and talent competitions had been hauled out of their box in the closet and proudly displayed. The room wasn't exactly untouched but it was, in essence, a shrine to Jin.
Guan Yin
has so many, but here's one to me alone
.
Something glittery on her old dresser caught her eye, and Jin took a closer look. It was a candlestick in the shape of a green Chinese dragon, about eight inches high. Jin frowned. She did not remember this item at all. Then the candlestick winked at her, and her mouth fell open in surprise. It was several long moments before Jin got over her shock enough to realize what was going on.
"Ling?" she whispered, and the candlestick nodded at her.
HERE, MIST... I MEAN JIN. CELESTIAL YOUTH SAID YOU WERE LOOKING FOR ME.
"For both of you, really. Where is he?"
CLOSE. HE ISN'T SHOWING HIMSELF.
"Good. Listen, Ling... Jonathan, I mean Shiro, is coming. Don't do anything unless I tell you."
Ling didn't have a chance to reply, because there was a knock on the door and, after a pause, Jonathan let himself in. "Did I hear voices?" he asked.
Jin reddened slightly, but didn't look away from him. "Talking to myself. Or the past. Make of that what you will."
He just shrugged. "What is there to make of it, other than what it is? I've been known to do it myself. So. I assume you changed your mind for the purpose of getting me alone. What do you want to say to me, Jin?"
Jin blinked. Jonathan or Shiro or whoever he was had called that one right. The problem is, presented with the reality of being alone with the creature who'd been dogging her steps since Teacher's revelation, Jin wasn't entirely sure what she wanted to say to him. She started with one simple truth, though it might not have been the first one on her mind.
"My mother and I haven't always gotten along, no surprise, but I won't let anyone hurt her. I don't know what your game is..."
Jonathan was busy looking around the room as if he hadn't listened to a word she'd said. "What did she tell you about me?"
"Mom? Not a lot. She said -- "
"Not her, Jin. You know who I mean."
Jin did know. "So. We're not even going to pretend, are we?"
He just shrugged. "Why should we? You know I am not simply Jonathan Mitsumo, and I know that you know this. No need to take it any further than that if we don't want to sound like an old Abbott and Costello routine." He smiled at her. "Or do you? I'm game."
"You're Shiro," Jin said grimly.
He nodded. "Also true and I do not deny it. But who is Shiro? What does that name mean to you?"
She frowned. "You're the shadow creature who helped trap that little girl in hell, the one who helped keep Michiko in hers. Doubtless there are others I haven't discovered yet. Let's not play games then -- I intend to stop you."
"Stop me from what?"
Jin couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not. So far as his expression was readable, he seemed puzzled. Jin put her hands on her hips. "From interfering, for a start. From making some unfortunate soul spend one moment longer in hell than they need to!"
He shook his head sadly. "Why are you so angry at me, Jin? I really would like to know."
Jin blinked owlishly. "Why...? I just told you!"
"You told me I was interfering. I admit I've been going to the places I know you must go. I can follow the golden threads as well as you can. But I was not interfering."
Jin had no idea what 'golden threads' he was referring to, and at that moment could not possibly have cared less. "What would you call it then?"
"Being near you. That's all I wanted. That's all I've ever wanted."
Jin felt her fact flush in anger and embarrassment, and there wasn't a thing she could do about either. She was barely able to keep her voice below shouting. "My work is not your concern. Neither, for that matter, am I."
"I disagree, but let that be for now. You incarnated to hide from me, but I know there's more to it than that. But I've had some time to think about it, and I'm thinking that, perhaps, I know the real reason. Or at least more of a clue than you have, I'll wager."
Jin kept her temper, but it was hard. "Speaking of that, I want to know how you found me, how you knew who I was."
Shiro grinned. "That was easy -- Emma-O told me. Oh, right. I believe you know him as 'Teacher.'"
Jin started to deny it, but she couldn't. For all she knew it was true. Shiro went on. "I'll be glad to answer any question you put to me, but I do think you should choose them better. And I would like an answer to mine: who am I?"
Jin's hands balled into fists. She didn't want to answer him, but not answering seemed worse. Driven to the wall, she fell back on the truth. "You call yourself Jonathan Mitsumo, but you're Shiro...but aside from that, I don't know."
Shiro just nodded. "You really don't know, do you? I thought as much. She sent you in blind, didn't she? Yes, that fits. Unfortunately for both of us."
Jin didn't have to ask who "she" was. He meant the Guan Yin That Was. And he was absolutely right. For a moment Jin considered assuming her demon form, just to escape the feeling of being at such a complete disadvantage, but it was as if Shiro sensed her thought. "Go ahead if you want. Hardly anyone can stand before you in your Prince of Demons form. It won't make any difference. I will, as they say, be back. I will go where you go, and I will do whatever it takes to be near you."
"Dammit all, who
are
you? I mean really. Forget the names which, so far as I can tell, mean less than shit. Who are you really? What do you want?" she asked finally.
"I am Shiro, and I told you what I want. Whatever you call yourself now, whatever flesh you wear, it makes no difference to me. What I want," he said, "is you."
Jin just stared at him. "I'm the mortal incarnation of
Guan
Shi Yin! What am I to you?"
"The same thing you are as
Guan
Shi Yin in all her glory. My love," Shiro said. "My wife."
Jin just stared at him for several long moments. "Don't you dare move," she said finally, and reached out and touched Shiro on the shoulder. To her surprise he didn't attempt to escape. He didn't so much as flinch.
"It's about time," he said just as her fingers brushed his shoulder, but by then it was too late.
Jin had a vision. Or perhaps the vision had her. There didn't seem to be any difference. Jin was no longer in her old bedroom. She was now at a place totally new to her and yet somehow totally familiar. She was in a dream. She was not in a dream. She was the one who acted. She was the one who watched, all her selves present and immersed in what was happening, had happened, would happen. All caught, for now, in time's net.
The temple was dark despite the lamp glow and the man's face was in shadow. That didn't matter; Jin knew him. He kneeled before the gilded statue of Kannon that Jin knew to be herself; flesh of stone and jeweled eyes notwithstanding. All of what was happening made perfect sense, because it was all part of the dream that Jin was a part of, too. He was praying to himself or to the statue. Jin heard a phrase over and over. She understood it and that understanding made her feel very sad. Was that a memory too? Part of the dream? She didn't know. She only knew that she could no longer endure his prayers.
"Stop praying," she heard herself say, but it was the statue speaking.
The kneeling man was clearly stunned. Perhaps that's why he shut up. He finally looked up at the statue and Jin got her first good look at him. It was Shiro, of course. Not the same as the Jonathan she knew, but recognizable enough as a slim young man in robes of silk. "Have -- have I displeased you?" he finally managed.
"You have mistook me," Kannon and Jin said together. One and the same. Jin did not think this was strange. She was Kannon. She was Jin. If she were more Kannon than Jin at the moment, did it matter? This was Shiro. He was a problem. Nothing had changed at all.
"How? I will atone," Shiro said.
"You do not pray to me," Kannon said. "You're praying for me. Your prayers are snares. Admit it."
"I love you," Shiro said.
"I love you," Kannon said. "I love all who suffer. You are suffering, Shiro. You are confused, that is all. I am the gate, not the goal."
"You are my goal," Shiro said. "You are all that I want, all that I can imagine. There is nothing that is not Kannon. I am nothing. Though I linger a thousand years or die and am reborn a thousand thousand lifetimes, I will love you."
"Yes," Kannon said, and her voice was sadness distilled. Jin wept. Kannon wept. The look on Shiro's face was beyond rapture.
"I love you," he repeated. "I always will. Cast me into any hell of your choosing and block the way forever, I will always love you."
"Yes you will," Kannon said. "And no you won't. This ends, Minamoto no Shiro, and here is the beginning of it."
"What will you do?"
The statue disappeared. In its place was a living, breathing woman that Jin knew was Kannon, Guan Yin, GuanShiYin, Jin Hannigan, hair long and glossy black, her face at once luminous and no more than mortal. She wore the white kimono of a bride. She stood before the man who loved her in the flesh, because flesh was required.
"I will marry you, Minamoto no Shiro. I will be yours. That is what I will do."
I WILL SHOW YOU THE REST.
The voice was Shiro's, and Jonathan's, but it was outside the dream. Jin was having trouble listening. The dream moved from one scene to another with no interval at all, which was the way of dreams. Jin as Kannon as Guan Yin and as a mortal girl who was not Jin at all but called herself Mei accompanied Shiro home as his bride. She found herself blushing. She felt a strangeness in the pit of her stomach, a rush of blood to her face and belly. She felt something that she had never felt before, for anyone.
Shiro... did I... love him
?
YOU LOVED ME. YOU KNOW IT'S TRUE.
Jin frowned. That sounded like Shiro, but it could not be Shiro. Shiro was on her arm, leading her to where the sleeping mats had been prepared and where she went, willingly, joyfully. Almost eagerly. Part of her was screaming that this could not be true, but the loudest voice within her, that
was
her, stood firm: it was true. This is almost how it happened.
"Almost?" she wondered aloud, and Shiro the groom smiled at her.
"What are you whispering?" he asked.
"Nothing," Jin said, blushing again. The thoughts were unbidden and confusing. She was where she needed to be, where she wanted to be. A new life was starting for her, a life with the man she loved. She wanted to embrace it just as she embraced him. They kneeled together. Flesh called to flesh and would not be denied.
IMMANENCE, PLEASE WAKE UP.
A new voice. Jin frowned. There was a little green dragon wound around her wrist. She could have sworn it spoke to her. But there was no little green dragon in this dream. She banished it with a thought, but it returned as soon as her attention wandered to her groom.
I HUMBLY SUGGEST THAT YOU WAKE UP NOW, the dragon said. Jin made to slap at it like a pestering fly, but the thing merely turned to smoke and then reformed.
AS YOU REQUIRE...
It bit her on the thumb. Jin shouted and flung it away from her and in that instant she was standing back in her own bedroom, in the now that she understood to be now. The image and the feelings of that other Jin, and that other Kannon long ago retreated to memory, all save one. Jin stood looking into Jonathan's handsome face, and she blushed again.
It had all been Jonathan...Shiro's, vision. Perhaps not a true vision in the way of a mortals ready to graduate from their current hell, but was any of it true at all? Did she... love him? Jin looked hard at the man in front of her, and there it was: the feeling that, until now, she had not believed herself capable of feeling. It was so much like what she had felt when she had been Mariko meeting her Saburo for the first time. Was it the same? She didn't know. It was so close. She asked herself what, she feared, might be the real question:
Do I love him
?