Chapter Text
ii.
the next time he saw her, it was a meeting of pure chance; a coincidence that disregarded the work he had put into his frantic search. he had torn ikebukuro apart looking for the girl in a chase oddly reminiscent of one he'd undertaken not long ago. every day at the same time, he sat in the shop where he'd first met those bright, inquisitive eyes. he arrived an hour before the time he remembered seeing her, and left only after an additional hour had gone by. the man who owned the place disregarded the desolate teenage boy for the most part, but half an hour into his encampment each and every day, the uniformed giant slid a strong cup of coffee across the counter to him. seiji always nodded in thanks, the man would nod back, and then they went back to their respective tasks. the man, he knew, was heiwajima shizuo who was famous for supposed strength that rivaled the extent of his temper, but he seemed more a man of few words and deliberate actions. seiji always drank down the contents of the mug, not caring if he scalded his lips or burned his tongue; it was the closest he'd get to the flames of hell within the constraints of this world.
on that particular day, he spent two hours in the cafe watching not only for incoming customers, but scanning the people milling about outside as had become part of his routine. after that, however, he had no specific place to be or leads to follow, so he tended to prowl around the city aimlessly, spending the precious pocket money he had left on street food and frivolous indulgences. but like all humans, he had responsibilities that could not be ignored forever.
no matter how insubstantial he felt, a pinch on the arm or a fist through the wall confirmed his current status (alive) and left him no other choice but to return to their shared apartment, though it was his alone now. seiji unlocked his door, completely impassive until it hit him- the smell of her perfume, the one that claimed to make the wearer 33% more attractive. the day she bought it and wore it home to surprise him, he had taken one of her hands in both of his and solemnly told her that she was already the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on. she giggled the way she always did and gave him a kiss. her laugh was his very favorite sound, and her lips always tasted like strawberry lip gloss, and he regretted that he’d never been able to convince her of her own beauty. after all, he’d loved her from the very moment he saw her.
she had been a fixture in his dreams for years, or at the very least, her head had. beautiful chestnut hair, flawless porcelain skin, eyes that he knew to be blue enough to drown in- he coveted it all. but she was only a head sealed away in glass, not someone he could touch with his hands or hold in his arms, and she could not love him back in her comatose state. it had depressed him throughout his youth until his beloved and deranged older sister had transcended the rules of the universe and made his wishes a reality. and even though it was revealed all too soon that her success had been mere deception, he was already so infatuated with the living doll he had grown accustomed to that he was satisfied with his lots in life.
he’d never seen anyone who even compared to celty’s beauty except mika, who shared it. the girls who’d confessed to him in middle school (supposedly the prettiest ones, for he was the handsomest and that was the natural order of things) were so plain in comparison that he denied each one. he wanted no one if he could not have the girl behind the glass, so when he was gifted with the goddess herself, he never wanted to let her go. sadly, the universe didn’t seem to care about what he wanted, no matted how badly, and thus tore her from his arms. but it seemed that the cosmos were not done tormenting him, twisting his fate and turning his world upside down and inside out by presenting him with yet another forbidden fruit that hung just out of his reach.
he closed the faux wood door and sat down heavily on the sofa and put his head in his hands, imagining an imaginary ‘poof’ of dust floating up in response. this new girl’s elfin features flashed behind his eyelids, but he was distressed to find that her face was rapidly fading from his memory. he lifted his head, attention drawn to the picture set on the table of him stoically posing for the camera, his mika tilting her head back to look up at him. if only he could get rid of her image, from his brain and his life, he would be at peace. reaching out, seiji turned the frame over in his hands so he no longer had to gaze upon her smiling face.
no sooner had he done so when his buzzer rang, startling him into dropping the flimsy object. it fell in what seemed to be slow motion, and he watched numbly as the glass splintered into pieces like the shattered remains of his heart. he stood, uncaring of the potential danger, and went to the intercom.
“hello?” he said, his voice rough and deep. a light musical voice replied, and although he hadn’t quite processed whatever it was that she said, he pressed the button to allow her entry. what a surprise it was when he found himself face to face in the doorway with the girl from the coffee shop, the one he’d been looking for so desperately. he saw her lips move, but again he stood dumbly, hearing nothing but his blood thundering through his veins.
“excuse me,” the girl tried again, blinking slowly at him, and he managed a nod of recognition this time. “the ceiling is leaking in my apartment. would you happen to have a bucket?”
“uh…” seiji mumbled in response, still at a loss. she cocked her head again questioningly, just as she had done that day in the rain, and he rubbed at the back of his head in embarrassment.
“a cooking pot would do,” she continued, watching him quizzically, “or a planter even, though it would be hard to grow anything in such a dim space and i doubt you have one.”
“i’ll find something, come in if you want,” seiji told her shortly before turning on his heel. he strode to the small kitchen area he and his love had sectioned off with a folding table (their version of a counter), and knelt to dig in the cardboard boxes under it. they were all labeled in bubbly characters with smiley faces and kaomoji, and he felt sick as he imagined himself crushed between the presence of the beauty he’d invited in and mika’s memory. mechanically he reached for a box, easily ripping off the tape to reveal a vase. it was pretty, a delicate piece of china that she had brought one day from who-knew-where. when they’d taken up residence in the small, drafty building there’d been no place for it, so it stayed boxed up, hidden away where no one could admire it. he’d almost forgotten about it himself.
“there’s broken glass on the floor, you know,” a sweet voice from behind informing him. his head whipped around and he nearly lost his balance, catching himself with the hand not cradling the blue and white piece. she was standing there, face unreadable and a closed fist held out in front of her. slowly she opened her fingers, revealing the shards she had carefully plucked from the wreckage. “i’ll trade you.” her lips turned up in the tiniest smile, nodding to the vase. he held it out to her, but she took his free hand in hers and carefully spilled the clear fragments into his palm. she then painstakingly took the vase from him and gave him a real smile that made his heart pound in his chest. he froze for only a handful of seconds, but by the time he came back to himself, she was gone with nothing but jagged glass to remember her by. he closed his fist around the cold pieces in a strange reverse of her earlier grip, and squeezed until he felt a warm river of blood run down the back of his hand.