Chapter Text
We ended up going to a hip café nearby with a French name I’d forgotten mere seconds after reading it. Despite its name suggesting extravagance, it turned out to be pretty average by any account, yet not without a cozy charm to it. From the speakers at the walls, jazzy music was playing at a volume low enough to not disturb a conversation.
I stirred my promised Calspi with a straw, the ice cubes making weirdly enjoyable clacking sounds. “Um, what was your name again?” I asked as casually as possible. Of course, this was a bluff. Though I’d shamelessly accepted her generous offer, it’d slipped my mind to ask for her name until now.
“Actually, I don’t think I have introduced myself yet.” She looked happy about being asked. “You can call me Minako.”
“Minako…” I repeated to myself. I couldn’t recall anybody who went by that name, and yet it felt oddly familiar hearing it. It must’ve been some classmate I’d long erased from my memory; I wasn’t someone to pay much attention to my surroundings, specifically not with my tendency to space out when coming up with another story. Anyway, since Minako offered to call her by her first name, I tried my best to return some basic politeness and proposed she do the same.
“I am Tama.”
“As in Tamako?”
“No, just Tama. You know, tama like jewel.”
“What a fitting name.” The look on my face must have made it obvious I couldn’t follow her. “I’m talking about your eyes,” she elaborated, putting on a smile.
I wondered if it even took any effort for her to be this disarming. I hadn’t disliked my name, but I’d never been too fond of it, either. Not that I cared about names and omens in the first place, but ever since I‘d been a child, I’d felt like I never could live up to its expectations. Yet out of Minako’s mouth, the way she said it, I felt like I could get used to its sound. I wouldn’t mind her calling out to me more often.
Still, doting on the only thing I was self-conscious about - which she couldn’t know, but still - made me feel more than awkward. In an attempt to mask my insecurity, I shifted the spotlight back to her.
“Talking about eyes, is there a reason you’re squinting them like that? Have you considered getting prescription glasses?” I babbled without thinking.
“Ahaha… That’s… That’s just how they are, I can see perfectly fine, actually…”
“I… see.” …Well, that backfired. I sighed internally. My bad conscience made me stare into the foggy, milky liquid standing in the glass before me as if it held the solution on how to get out of this situation. I observed the tiny bubbles dancing between the ice cubes as they rose to the surface and burst.
“When I was younger, the other children used to make fun of me for my eyes,” I started telling absentmindedly as if I were speaking to myself to summon that memory. “One time, they decided I have blue eyes because I must be possessed by a youkai, and stuck to that theory until I and my family moved away.”
I didn’t know why I was telling her this. Perhaps I wanted to make her feel bad like I did for my blunder, being the awful person that I was. Or perhaps I wanted her to shower me with more attention… not least because of her onee-san vibe, it felt nice being comforted by her.
Minako was taken aback. “Children sure can be cruel,” she said with a thoughtful gaze as she put down her teacup on its saucer. Her movement was so slow, I had to suppress a yawn. “I know it’s not the same, but during the last year of primary school, for some reason, my mother had thought it was a good idea for me to get a kappa haircut. For the rest of the school year, the boys - and some of the girls who wanted to join in the fun - would run from me screaming, covering their behind with their hands or school books.”
“Why that?” My eyebrows raised, I took a sip of my watered-down Calspi. It really was better when its ratio was four to one…
“They didn’t want me to steal their shirikodama.”
I snorted, pushing air through the straw out of reflex. My drink bubbled over as I choked on it and left a sticky mess in front of me.
“A-Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I pressed out between coughs. “I… did not see that last part coming.” I tried to clean up the table with a napkin, quickly adding: “But it’s not like I was making fun of you!” Even I knew enough of decency to not bite the hand that was feeding me, especially if it was feeding me some cake and my favorite drink.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t interpret it that way,” she laughed. “At least your mood seems to have brightened up.”
“…A bit,” I admitted.
“Do your knees still hurt?”
Seriously, this girl was way too worried about me. “It stings pretty badly, but I’ll survive. It could be worse,” my voice becoming chipper as I continued. After all, I had Calspi. And nice company.
My remark was met with a soft chuckle. “That’s a relief.”
“You must have many friends, Minako-san.” I don’t know where that came from. Maybe I felt compelled to say anything to prevent this conversation from stagnating further, making both of us uncomfortable.
“Please drop the ‘san’… Unless you want me to call you ‘Tama-san’.” A shiver went through my spine. I don’t know where the hell that came from, but “Tama-san” had an eerie ring to it. “And what makes you think that?”
I fidgeted around with my straw again. “Looking at how you’re treating someone who’s a complete stranger to you.” Paying me compliments, and offering me kindness, seemingly expecting nothing in return, to the point where it made me feel bad. “That probably makes you pretty popular with others.”
“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” she mused. “Most of the time, I’m absorbed in books… And I often get told I have my head in the clouds too much… When something captures my attention, I become temporarily blind to everything happening around me.” She played around with the handle of her teacup. “I guess stories are more interesting than most people.”
What a lonely person.
“Come to think of it, I hope I didn’t spoil any plans you had by bringing you here.”
“It’s alright. I’m not exactly a social butterfly, either.” I decided to be honest with her. I tried to feign some confidence like I did earlier, but couldn’t help but sink into my chair a bit. “I was in a hurry to catch the finale of my favorite show this season.” Just as she opened her mouth to say something, I cut in. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll watch the rerun at midnight, it’s no big deal.” Aah, what a hypocrite I was, sitting here and thinking of her as lonely.
She furrowed her eyebrows in concern. “Are you really okay watching TV that late at night during the week?”
“Sure, what about it?”
“Aren’t you groggy in the morning?”
“Hm…” I crossed my arms. “School is important, but you know what else is? Understanding society and its many layers! So, basically, movies and shows are just one way to research society and learn about its individuals and how to deal with them!”
“Uh-huh…” She didn’t look convinced. I might have to throw in another argument.
“Besides, I’m used to it - I sometimes stay up all night to write, and-”
“Y-you write?!” I thought I just saw her irises for a second. Her voice had gotten loud all of a sudden, and as she leaned forward in an enthusiastic manner that was completely out of place, she almost knocked over her empty teacup. Hastily, she put it in place again, as if she were going to miss any vital information if she shifted her attention too much from me.
“Uh, yeah…” I had no idea why she had lost her composure like this, but I caught myself thinking that it was kind of cute.
“What do you write?”
Oh no.
“You know, this and that…” I gave my serving response.
“This and that?”
“Yeah… Like, some mystery… and romance…” I faltered at first, then I clenched my fists. After all, I was taking pride in my writings, no matter what outsiders were thinking. “And BL,” I said with utter conviction and stuffed my face with cake.
Albeit she’d calmed down, her interested expression hadn’t changed. “Will you let me read something you wrote next time?”
Next time?
“Only if you treat me to Calspi again,” I demanded jokingly.
“Deal.”
“What, for real?!”
“Is there a problem?” She leaned back in her chair. “Didn’t you just suggest it yourself that I treat you?”
“No! I mean, yes, I did, but-” I forced myself to shut up and focus. “Do you honestly want to read something I’ve written?”
Minako tilted her head. “From what I can tell, you seem like someone who has interesting stories to tell. Reading one of them is more than I could ever ask for.”
I needed a moment to digest what I had heard. I’ve never doubted the quality of my writing, but her words… they certainly were pushing all the right buttons. It was as if-
Wait a minute.
“Minako.” I did her the favor of dropping the honorifics, and sat up straight, a sly grin on my face. “Could it be you aren’t as innocent as you look?”
“E-Eh?”
“You,” I denounced her, “are rotten, aren’t you?”
For a few seconds, the world seemed to have come to a stop. There was only me, her, and my finger pointed at her accusingly hovering over the table.
“I know what you mean,” she said eventually, “but that’s not how it is…” Her response seemed authentic enough. What a letdown. I was positive I was about to expose Minako’s sweet, innocent face as a shameless fujoshi. She seemed to have a rather boring personality, being a fujoshi would’ve given her some pizazz, and probably some more topics to chat about. That, and as petty as it was, providing her with stories definitely would’ve given me a certain sense of superiority for the first time.
“Also, why am I the one who has to take the flak if you’re the one who writes these kinds of stories?” she wanted to know, furling her eyebrows, mild irritation swinging in her voice. It made her look like a child who’s been told to do their homework before being allowed to go outside and play.
“Because! I don’t write for the plain sake of writing BL! Rather than that, I have a refined taste and do enjoy writing unconventional stories about unconditional love! Nyahaha!”
“I see,” was all she said. Against any expectation, her face relaxed. She seemed to be content with my explanation (which was stating the truth, more or less).
“To be honest…” I began bashfully, twiddling with my straw, “I’d be happy if you could give me some feedback on a story I’m currently working on.”
Without hesitation, she gave me a reassuring grin. “I can’t wait to read it.”
Having someone be this excited about my work not only filled me with warm and fuzzy feelings I could get used to, but it also fueled my determination to write a story that would enchant the reader - and Minako in particular. Hence I needed to do some investigative work and find out about her literary preferences. “By the way, what’s the title of the book you were reading earlier?” I asked nonchalantly, doing my best to not turn this into an interrogation.
“It’s ‘Dogra Magra’. Have you heard of it?”
“I didn't have an occasion to read it, yet…”
“It is very special to me, so to speak.” She put on a smile that reflected some sort of nostalgia. “You can borrow it from me when I’m finished. I’m pretty sure you’re going to like it, as well.”
“You don’t have to,” I returned with a wave of my hand, “I’ll watch the movie someday.” Needless to say, as a writer I was aware of the fact that the way you portrayed a story and conveyed its message was heavily dependent on your chosen medium. However, I didn’t want to be in Minako’s debt by borrowing a book that she had called very special to her.
“In its essence, that may be the case… but written words deliver a story different from a movie.” For some reason, she sounded glum, hurt even. “You as a writer should know that.”
“Gah- A-are you lecturing me?!”
“Hm. Not quite. I’d prefer to call it well-meaning advice.”
Her ‘well-meaning’ advice made me choke on my subliminal rage, leaving me with my mouth hanging open. Not knowing what to say upon getting exposed like this, I stuffed my face with the rest of my cake and faced away. The rain hadn’t stopped. Nearly as if time stopped as long as I was with her.
Now that I thought about it, I found it rather funny how this situation had unfolded. Initially, I only agreed on coming to this café with the prospect of a free drink. However, before long, I had started to genuinely enjoy her company. I enjoyed it so much I was hoping the rain would never stop; as long as rain fell, we were inside this bubble where time stood still.
“I broke your glasses on purpose by the way.”
“Eh?” First I had to process what she had said, then I blurted out: “Eeeeeh?”
Minako’s gaze was fixed on her empty teacup as if she were trying to read the leaves, her expression as blank as a clean sheet of paper; I couldn’t read it at all. “You’re probably going to hate me now. I can’t blame you.”
“But why?” was the only thing I was capable of saying out loud.
“I had this notion I needed to talk to you, at any rate. I knew if I didn’t, I would regret it for the rest of my life. Although I have to admit breaking someone’s property isn’t exactly what you would call smooth… I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t care less about the specs. “What do you mean, you had a feeling?”
As she lifted her face, the benign ambiance of friendly chatter dispersed to be replaced by an atmosphere so laden with suspense, it made my hair stand on end.
“Do you believe in fateful encounters?”
There was something about the manner she uttered these simple words that made my heart quicken up its pace. I had to swallow hard. “I’ve never thought about it.”
For a split second, it seemed like Minako was about to touch my hand resting on the table, but decided against it. “What if I told you this isn’t the first time we met?”
What did she mean, this wasn’t the first time? I skimmed through my memories, only to come up with the conclusion this had to be a mistake. And I couldn’t blame her if it were one - Tokyo was huge, after all. “Are you sure you aren’t mistaking me for someone else?”
She shook her head not bothering trying to hide her amusement. “So you’re unable to remember… I can’t blame you. It was a long time ago.”
I couldn’t shake off the impression of ‘unable to remember’ being a side blow. Like she wasn’t surprised but disappointed regardless.
“If you weren’t being so vague about it, I’d probably remember sooner or later,” I retorted in a sulk. Not for a single moment I doubted her honesty and thought she might have been making something up. Having this pure aura of earnestness, every cell in my body was reluctant to even think of Minako being dishonest in any way. And yet, none of what she said made the slightest bit of sense to me, no matter how I looked at it.
“Never mind. Maybe it had been nothing but a dream,” she concluded almost dejectedly. “Sorry if I’m being weird.”
Weird doesn’t even begin to describe you...
I quickly drank what was left in my glass, then I said sheepishly: “Nobody is perfect, I guess.” I couldn’t come up with anything better.
“I guess,” she repeated and let out a laugh. “It’s time for me to go. Thank you for keeping me company.”
I didn’t have the slightest clue how much time had passed since we came here. I had just assumed this afternoon could go on forever. Where there had been blissful warmth inside my chest, disenchantment was taking place.
“Likewise,” I said awkwardly, confused by this sudden change of mood between us. “Thank you for inviting me out.”
“Anytime.”
“Umm, sorry to ask you so bluntly, but could we share your umbrella until we get to the subway station?”
“No problem.”
With every single one of her sparse words, we seemed to grow further apart.
I wanted to reach out to her. I wanted to take her hand and ask if we would see each other again. I wanted to see the face she makes when reading one of my stories, I wanted her to lecture me, and I wanted to enchant her with my writing.
But I couldn’t. My vanity kept me from doing any of that.
We would head to the subway, and go our own ways. She would leave my life just as suddenly as she had entered it, except I wasn’t the same anymore. She had stirred me up with her mere presence and… I didn’t want to miss her. I wanted her to stay.
Maybe this was this ominous notion that she had mentioned.
I tried to stand up and hissed at the immediate sharp pain in my knees. “Nyahaha… Looks like I’ve messed myself up pretty bad, after all…” I mumbled to myself.
“Let me help you up,” Minako offered for the second time today.
“Sorry.” I took her hand.
And then, lightning struck me.
A bolt of pure energy invaded my body, sent prickling impulses from my spine, spreading to my arms and legs, my fingers, the nerves in my fingertips, the tension making my body go numb.
Like from a sakura tree seized by wind, resembling translucent sakura petals raining down, I was surrounded by images entering my mind. Out of nowhere, life flashed before my eyes. Another life.
“One reader is enough. I don’t need anyone else’s eyes but yours.”
”In every memory, you were there.”
”Don’t leave…”
…me alone anymore.
Time had come to a halt. Opposite me stood Minako’s frozen image, shedding a forlorn tear. My eyes followed its wet trail when my gaze was caught by the white, unblemished skin on her neck. Just as the sharp nib of a fountain pen would leave a mark on paper’s sleek surface, a thin line appeared on her skin, liquid oozing out in fine drops, leaving the impression she was wearing a necklace of red pearls. The invisible thread cut more deeply into her throat as the drops grew, feeding on her lifeforce, until everything merged into a merciless stream.
A white lily. Pure as snow. Caressed by crimson morning dew, drowning in anticipation of death’s kiss.
The absence of air in my lungs snapped me out of my stupor. I inhaled deeply, loudly, noticing I must’ve had forgotten to breathe. As the blood - her blood - was getting soaked up by the fabric of my sleeve, I yanked my hand away.
The images ceased flowing.
“What’s the matter?” Minako asked visibly worried. She was back to normal.
My heart was pounding madly like I escaped death. My mouth was filled with the taste of bile, and I managed to swallow my rising stomach contents just in time to now throw up all over myself.
“I… The pain made me dizzy,” I lied, laughing it off to cover my nerves being at breaking point. “I’ll be fine once we get outside.”
It was apparent that she didn’t believe me one word. Nevertheless, she decided against prying further. “Tell me if you start to feel sick or anything.”
“Yeah, yeah…”
She took her bag and umbrella, going first. I grabbed my bag and followed her wordlessly.
What the hell had that been? I’ve had issues with experiencing hallucinations in the past, but ever since I was on medication, they weren’t even worth mentioning. Furthermore, I’d never experienced something as… whatever just had happened. I caught a glimpse of my hands, which were still shaking.
Standing in front of the café, Minako opened the umbrella. Seemed like the rain had gotten worse meanwhile. “The rainy days don’t seem to end, huh.” She smiled to herself as if the rain served as a reminder of a pleasant memory. “Let’s go.”
Rain…
The rainy season.
It took her a few steps to realize I wasn’t coming. She stopped in her tracks and moved around, giving me a questioning look. “Are you feeling sick again?”
I stared at the dark grey concrete. The cold rain was pricking my skin. I clenched my fists, and my nails were biting into my palms. It hurt. So it was real. I was real.
“You are a liar.” I looked down as I threw my accusation at her. “You knew all along.” There was silence save for the pitter-patter of the rain. Again, it seemed like I was caged in its impenetrable walls.
“What do you mean…?” She didn’t falter, but her voice was off, just enough for me to notice. Just enough to validate my suspicion.
My face tensed up. I didn’t need to see myself to know I must’ve grimaced, unable to keep a straight face. My chest was heavy with all these feelings raging inside me, all these images falling into place in my subconscious.
No. Not feelings and images. Memories.
I want to remember.
I want to remember.
“I want to remember,” I quavered, “Mina… kami…”
It took me a few moments to gather the courage and look her in the face. Her eyes were opened wide, her mouth agape. From where I was standing, I could see her upper lip trembling.
I smiled.
She pressed her lips together, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Then, she gave me a pained, yet heartfelt smile in return, leaving her exposed. She closed the distance between us with a few steps, firmly holding her umbrella, protecting me against the rain.
“It has been a while, hasn’t it? Tamamori.”