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Most days, the sky is distracting, Ninomae Ina’nis the TakoEats delivery girl thinks. It’s too bright. Too blue. Too endless. It always seems out of reach, omnipresent but eternally out of her grasp. Ina blinks. She’d been staring too long at it again, rare glimpses of it caught in open hallways along corridors and in busy streets clogged with traffic as she scurries from one delivery to the next.
Ina heads to the elevator. Her phone is already chiming with the details of the next order. She looks down at her watch. Her shift is supposed to be over in about thirty minutes. If she’s lucky it’s going to be a burger from the joint down the street and the recipient is going to be someone on the way to her own apartment. If she’s unlucky – and really, she’s usually unlucky – it’s going to be some artisan cake and coffee from god-knows-where that Ina has to deliver to a remote house practically the next town over or something. At least she can get some cookies if that were the case. She needs to refresh her stock of gluten-free cookies.
Ina presses down on the elevator button. As it slowly rumbles up to her floor she casts one more longing glance toward the sky. Still bright. Still blue. Still endless. Still there. The elevator chimes and the old doors creak open. Ina steps in and hits the ground button. The sky disappears from her view as the metal doors slide shut.
And yes, maybe, the sky reminds her of the blue eyes of a certain Amezon delivery agent. Maybe.
It’s a bit of a problem, actually, if Ina’nis is going to be honest with herself.
The TakoEats delivery girl stretches her arms out in front of her. On her hands, splatters of blue and pink paint she’d been struggling to wash out. She thinks of the incomplete painting she has at home and the lurching deadline she has for one of her grad classes. The elevator rumbles slowly as Ina’s thoughts wander once again.
Calling it a painting is a stretch, actually. She’d painted the entirety of the canvas a striking light blue. As if she’d simply primed the entire thing in sky blue instead of white like most people do. And as if that wasn’t enough, there’s a gradient of shocking pink heading towards the bottom. That’s it. That’s all there is on the canvas.
Now, Ina isn’t dumb. She knows exactly what she’d painted. It’s why it’s so concerning, actually. She’d spent hours staring at the thing, brush and paint in hand, wondering what on earth she’s going to put on the damn thing. The artist in her knows she can’t just have a blue and pink canvas, slap on “It’s abstract, professor” on the tag, and then call it a day.
But she can’t help it. Her mind came up empty. Besides that, it almost felt like sacrilege to put anything else upon the perceived perfectness of that blue and pink landscape.
Ina sighs. All she has is a canvas the color of the eyes of her supposed “rival,” which is ridiculous in and of itself. The Amezon delivery agent Amelia Watson, whom Ina regularly bumps into. The blonde had pointed at her one day, called Ina “my mortal enemy from TakoEats,” and the artist was too enraptured in the idea of playing along that they’d simply kept on the act.
The elevator stops with a shake. The artist is pulled from her thoughts and she sees that she’s still a few floors away from her destination. The doors slide open and lo and behold, Amelia Watson, in the flesh.
Either Ina’s luck is finally turning around or she has the worst luck in the known universe. She can’t decide which one it is.
On instinct, she scowls, ready to play at their little game of rivalry.
“Amelia Watson,” goes Ina, her best impression of an intimidating growl. “Heh. Looks like I finished my delivery first.”
Ame seems a little out of it. She blinks slowly at Ina. “Oh, hey Ina,” she goes, shambling into the elevator like a zombie. She presses on the ground floor button too, as if it wasn’t already lit up.
There are heavy bags under Ame’s eyes. She slumps her shoulders as if the weight of the world were draped upon them. She stifles a yawn, rubs at the corners of her eyes.
As if finally remembering she’s not alone in the elevator, she jolts a little, looks to Ina. “Oh yeah. How are you?”
The unexpected sight of Ame makes Ina’s blood feel too warm. Ina desperately wants to say “You know I have an entire canvas painted the color of your eyes at home. I might be a little gay. Please help.”
Her chest flutters. Her more reasonable side takes control. “I got one more order but honestly I’d rather chuck my phone into the river right now,” she says.
Ame giggles. The flutter in Ina’s chest grows into a roar. “I get what you mean,” says Amelia.
The elevator jostles as it arrives on the ground floor. With a dull chime the doors clatter open. The two step out.
Something within Ina aches. She watches as Ame wearily staggers towards her truck in the parking lot. Without looking back, she raises an arm in a lazy wave. “See ya round, TakoEats rival. Heh.”
“Wait,” goes Ina, without thinking. She startles even herself.
Ame stops. Turns slowly. “Yeah?”
“Ah. I. Uh. Are you… are you okay? You seem down.”
Ame gives Ina a wry smile. “Ah,” she goes, “Don’t worry about me. Just real-life stuff you know? Just tired.”
The artist searches for something that might help. She says, playfully, “You know what might lift your spirits? What if I park my bike in your favorite parking slot? Or if I purposefully block traffic to piss you off? You can nudge me with a comically large box in a hallway as revenge, rival. Hehe.”
Ame chuckles weakly. “Yeah, that sounds fun.”
“You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” Ina has no idea what’s possessing her to keep up the conversation. The spattering of blue and pink paint on her hands feel like they’re on fire.
Ame blinks. She seems to think about it, she inhales, sharply, then shakes her head. She grins lazily. “Not really down to divulge the details of my life to my delivery rival. Sorry.”
Something inside Ina breaks a little. Stinging, like a raw wound at the pit of her stomach. She smiles patiently. “Of course,” she says, politely.
They walk in silence towards the parking lot. Ina notices that her bike isn’t actually too far from Ame’s truck. The parking lot is open, and the sun is bright overhead. Ame stops suddenly. She looks up at the sky and speaks up. She seems melancholic, lost in thought.
“Actually,” she says, “you mind hearing me out a bit?”
Hope, filling in the cavity of Ninomae Ina’nis’s chest. “Yeah?” she goes, hoping she doesn’t sound as eager as she feels.
“You ever feel like you’re just so small and so… insignificant?” asks Ame.
“What do you mean?”
“Like you’re a speck on the planet. Nothing. And no matter how hard you try, you’ll always be just that. Nothing.”
Ina looks up at the sky too. Bright, blue, endless. Ina looks at Ame standing next to her, hands buried into her jacket pockets and still looking up. Her eyes are also bright, blue, endless.
The sky has never seemed so close in her life.
The words bubble out of Ina’s chest before she can stop them. “Blue, like the sky…”
“Hmm?” goes Ame, her focus suddenly on Ina.
Ina looks away. Adjusts her visor to hide her face. “Nothing. Sorry.”
“Oh,” goes Ame.
Is Ina imagining it, or is there an edge of disappointment to her voice?
Now feelings begin to simmer in her chest. She imagines her heart thrumming wildly against her ribs like a drum. She stands straighter. The flecks of blue and pink on her hands embolden her. Thoughts of a canvas painted the color of the sky compel her.
“Wait here,” goes Ina.
Ame stands confused in the middle of the parking lot as Ina jogs toward her bike. She opens the purple TakoEats delivery box hatch and rummages into the backpack she’d stuffed into the back. She pulls out a small microwaveable container full of cookies she’d been saving.
Ina makes her way back to Ame. Shoves the item into the Amezon agent’s hands. Ame looks up, confused.
“They’re gluten-free,” supplies Ina. “One of the café’s I’d frequent for deliveries offers them and they, uh, remind me of you.”
Ame looks even more confused.
Ina’s cheeks feel warmer than they should. “I’ve been… buying a box every week in case I ever ran into you and you looked like you needed the boost. Came in pretty handy today, huh?”
Ame looks down at the food container at her hands and up at Ina. “… but, why?”
Ame’s eyes almost burn into Ina’s. At the back of her mind, Ina thinks of a canvas painted blue with the most brilliant strokes of pink.
“I guess you’re not so small that the whole world doesn’t see you,” says Ina. She wonders where the courage to say these things is coming from. She looks into Ame’s eyes, and how they plead with quiet emotions that make Ina’s insides feel like molten gold.
Ina steadies herself. “A big world just means more for small things like us to explore together, huh?”
Ame laughs. The sound is enough to make Ina feel like she’s on fire. The weight on Amelia’s shoulders seem to lift. She looks down happily at the container of cookies and then up at Ina again. As if double-checking, triple-checking even, that the events unfolding before her are real. She smiles, radiant.
“Careful rival,” goes Ame, teasingly, “someone might get the impression that you’re asking them out on a date.”
And Ame laughs more, but there’s a burning curiosity in her eyes that Ina wants to capture with open hands.
It’s here that Ina realizes what her painting is missing. The sun, bright and joyous.
So Ninomae Ina’nis says, at last, “What if I am asking you out on a date, Ame?”