Some necessary info: this is a mild AU of Kara no Kyoukai in which Araya Souren is off searching for Akasha in parts unknown. That means that Fujo Kirie, Shirazumi Lio, Asagami Fujino, &c. aren't going to be confronting Shiki anytime soon.
It's also worth noting that although Mikiya and Shiki were friends during high school, their relationship in this story is much more platonic than in canon. The reasons for this will become clear.
Disclaimer: I own neither Kara no Kyoukai nor any other Type-Moon intellectual property.
I also acknowledge my debt to Leo, whose advice made this story possible.
May 1998: Prologue
It was only half past seven in the evening, and a sort of cabin fever had already taken hold of Aozaki Touko. Renting exhibit space at the Asagami Conference for the Creative and Technical Arts had been a measure of last resort, after all. Although she normally preferred to let clients come to her rather than the other way around, money had been tight lately.
Despite its pretentious name, Touko could tell that this was a badly organized event: instead of using the building's large main hall, the organizers had crammed the exhibitors and attendees into the adjacent annex. This clashed with her architectural sensibilities, which told her that the annex made for a better dining room than an exhibit space. Using it against its designer's intent converted its advantages—dim light and low ceilings that combined to produce an intimate setting—into distractions that grew harder and harder to tolerate with each passing hour. Perhaps enduring the heat, noise, and indoor smoking ban would have been worthwhile if the day had generated enough new business, but no such luck.
That's the story of the times we live in. If I had exhibited here last decade, I could have met clients interested in breaking ground on an avant-garde apartment or office building. With the recession, though, the captains of industry only attend events like this to show off how cultured they think they are. Actually paying for the culture they're pretending to enjoy is never part of the equation.
Shaking her head, Touko surveyed her booth in search of anything that would keep her from making an early exit.
Registering under an assumed name and casting a precautionary ward around this place was a waste of time.
She had brought quite a few items—too many, evidently—and paying someone to carelessly pack it all up again was out of the question. Several easels held up poster-sized architectural renderings based on some of her old, unused blueprints; bringing along actual photographs of her work might bring unwanted scrutiny to both Touko and her prior clients. The easels didn't pose all that much difficulty, though, in comparison with the bulky object propped up next to her on a scaffold. It was a doll, and Touko had intended to sell it to any buyer who came within an order of magnitude of her asking price. No one had even nibbled, though, so she would have to carry the unsettling thing back to her workshop.
It was not that it was poorly made—just the opposite. The problem was that she had begun crafting it without a firm vision of how she wanted the finished product to turn out, which in itself was a departure from Touko's normal creative process. In terms of basic concept, the doll began as a success: its feminine shape was appropriately lithe and lifelike, and its joints moved as they should. Yet after she had sculpted the face, when it was too late to make significant changes without undoing days of prior work, she realized that the project had taken an unwelcome turn. Pale skin, dark hair cut just above the shoulders, dark eyes, and an empty expression: these were the features of an old acquaintance that Touko had already half-forgotten. She disliked thinking about anything associated with her sister anymore, and the face staring back at her certainly fell into that category. As usual, she couldn't look at the doll without becoming introspective.
The ancient Greeks would have categorized this doll as a mimema, an art object that imitates something found in reality. But the mimema does more than simply exist as an imitation cut off from any context: it engages its audience in the act of mimesis by stimulating the imagination. A drawing of a house brings to mind the viewer's own concept of "houseness" even though a physical house and the drawing share only certain properties; likewise, this doll calls to mind all sorts of images and associations depending on who sees it. It's bad luck for me that the dreams this doll conjures up aren't ones I like to revisit. The fortunate thing about the subconscious, though, is that someone else—hopefully with deep pockets—will look at this face and have a different reaction.
As she was folding up her easels and stacking the renderings, Touko noticed two youthful faces that stood out from the largely middle-age crowd of conglomerate executives and their wives. They looked like high school students out on a date, which disqualified them as potential customers, but looking at their bright-eyed enthusiasm was a welcome change of pace nonetheless; as such, Touko took a break from disassembling her stall in order to observe the couple more closely.
As they drew close enough for her to hear their conversation, she reassessed her initial impression of them. The young man in the black turtleneck looked to be just past high school age, while his longhaired date looked to be around fifteen years old. Actually, given that they weren't walking arm-in-arm and had somewhat similar features, they might not even be a couple after all. Perhaps they were cousins, or maybe siblings. Yes, definitely siblings.
"Mikiya, haven't we seen enough of the exhibits already? If we leave the main floor now, we can still eat a relaxed dinner without needing to rush. Take a look at the brochure: it says here that the terrace restaurant has a lovely view out over the water."
The girl looked upset: clearly, she had meticulously planned this outing from the start, and her brother hadn't gotten the message. Well, Touko mused, some siblings do have that kind of relationship.
The boy looked over his glasses at the glossy pamphlet his sister had stuck under his nose. His good-humored expression soured slightly.
"Azaka, I'm sorry, but look at these prices. I can't afford to treat us to appetizers at that place, let alone a full meal. On the other hand, seeing the last of these booths is free...and educational. That's the real reason why you brought me here today, right? So that I would know which career to choose after graduation?"
Coming from anyone else, those words might have sounded needlessly sharp. Even though he spoke with mild reproach, however, Touko noticed that the dark-haired boy hadn't really antagonized his sister at all. Although Touko could tell that the girl was normally a forceful person, her brother knew just what to say to make her back down.
"You aren't getting away from our dinner, but I suppose we can compromise on a meal at Ahnenerbe before you bring me back to Reien. It's less formal than I'd like, but it will have to do."
Her words were more a show of anger than anything.
Mimesis again, though this time in the art of acting instead of sculpture.
But the boy wasn't paying his sister's performance any attention; instead, his gaze was drawn toward Touko's exhibit. More precisely, he was looking directly at the doll. He didn't seem to possess the net worth of her typical customer, but Touko was getting desperate. Even if he couldn't afford to pay, perhaps a fake customer could draw in a real one. Besides, there was no trace of the abnormal about him; engaging in a little harmless chitchat would be just that: harmless.
"If you're serious about taking her home, I've reduced the price. I don't sell many of this quality, and never to the general public. I was just about to close up shop, but if you need a little time to look her over or ask any questions, feel free."
Her smiling sales pitch was as pleasant as she could make it after a trying day, but the boy didn't hear a word of it. His face carried the solemn look of someone visiting a family grave, and Touko began to rue her bad luck: only one person at the entire convention was interested in the doll, and he seemed to dislike it just as much as she did. After an impolitely long silence, the boy's companion uncrossed the arms that she had been holding in front of her vest and lightly tapped him on the shoulder. When that didn't work, she stood on tiptoes, drew closer to him, and whispered in his ear.
"We're keeping her waiting, Mikiya."
With this, Touko noted in amusement, the boy once again became aware of his surroundings. He offered her a quick bow to make up for his inattention, and then introduced himself with an apologetic smile.
"I'm Kokutou Mikiya, and this is my sister Azaka. I appreciate the offer, but I was just window-shopping, I'm afraid. Since I'm on a student's budget, I do that a lot. Sorry if I've wasted your time."
At the mention of "budget," Touko saw that the girl named Azaka began to blush.
Teasing these two won't help me pay the bills, but it is fun. Let's see, what else can I say that will set Azaka off?
"Oh, don't even worry about that. Really, it's payment enough to see a brother and a sister who get along so well with each other. The two of you are inseparable; oh, but you must get that all the time, right?"
Touko's outwardly innocent words had met their mark. Azaka was now amusingly red, and she looked ready to panic.
"Nii-san, I think you've seen enough of fine art and culture for one day. Ma'am, thank you for your time, but it's getting late and we really do have to get going—"
"Already? Well, I'm sure that your brother has time for at least one question before you both rush off. That doll over there is a unique piece, and not necessarily in the positive sense of the word. What about it caught your eye, Mikiya?"
Mikiya closed his eyes for a moment and appeared to gather his thoughts. When he spoke, he did so without emotion, as if his mind were somewhere else entirely.
"Your doll reminded me of a friend of mine. She was injured in a car accident, and she still hasn't recovered. Even though she shouldn't have had permanent brain damage, the doctors said something went wrong during the recovery process after surgery. They operated, her wounds healed, but she still hasn't woken up. It's been a little over two years."
After two years, the chances of his friend ever regaining consciousness are approaching a limit of zero. I pity him; it seems that I made a doll capable only of dredging up painful memories.
Touko remained respectfully silent, her prior teasing obviously out of place at a moment like this. If this boy needed to get something off his chest, she saw no reason to stop him. He continued, this time in somewhat better spirits.
"That was a depressing story, wasn't it? What gives me hope, though, is that she hasn't aged a day since the accident. The physical effects of a coma are usually pretty severe, but my friend looks just like she used to even after all the time she's spent in a hospital bed. It's one of the reasons why I still visit her every month and leave a get-well card: when she wakes up, as unlikely as that sounds, I don't want her to feel alone. I even persuaded Azaka to write a little something in last month's card, too."
For the first time that day, Touko had found something truly intriguing. Evading the ravages of time for two years was a medical improbability for even the fittest of people; for someone two years into a coma, though, doing so bordered on the impossible. Perhaps Mikiya's friend had simply inherited some excellent genes; on the other hand, Touko could have stumbled upon a paranormal incident that fell under the purview of Garan no Dou, her detective side-business. With her curiosity piqued, she resolved to investigate the situation.
"It may be a long shot, but I do have some experience with cases like this. If you let me know your friend's name, I can take some time and look her over. I can't make any guarantees, not when—"
Mikiya didn't let her finish, instead jumping forward and clasping Touko's right hand with both of his own. He couldn't seem to contain his gratitude.
"I sincerely appreciate it! You don't need to do this much, especially for someone you've never even met, but you must be that kind-hearted of a person, ma'am. Well, I suppose that we aren't strangers anymore: you've met me right now, and you'll meet my friend when you visit her at the hospital, so it's fine. And if you do manage to help her, I know that her family would reward you for your trouble—"
Touko cut him off; it was a matter of necessity, really, since her hand had started to go numb.
"Before I can make arrangements to see your friend, I need a name."
Mikiya paused and returned to some semblance of calm, releasing his grip on Touko.
"Her name is Shiki. Ryougi Shiki."
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Originally Posted by ILurkNoMoar
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