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“I – I don’t know, Manta . . .”
The moonlight struck against her cheek. A line of silver ran from dark eyes to plump lips, as the light caught at the tears that marred her complexion, and – as she paced back and forth along the dew-stained grass – the trees rustled and branches moved all around them. It was as if the park were alive. The nocturnal creatures made their sounds, with each one merging and mingling with those of passersby . . . late-night workers, tired commuters . . . laughter from one drunken couple broken through hard and harsh, enough that she winced and clenched her fists.
Mantaro sat down on a bench, nestled neatly beneath a copse of small trees. There was little breeze or draught in the secluded area, but the grass and vegetation started to stiffen with the beginning of a frost, while every breath came out in a grey puff of steam. He brought gloved hands to his mouth, where he breathed life back into throbbing digits. Rinko ignored him in her quest to pace away her nervous energy, even as he asked in a gentle and quiet voice:
“Are you sure he even likes you?”
A low blush swept across her cheeks. It almost matched the redness to her thighs and calves, both exposed by the school uniform that had been altered to look more ‘cool’, and her constant movements may have been equally an attempt to keep warm than to keep busy. Rinko cast her eyes across the park grounds. They soon fell on an exposed area of fields and grass, designed to look just like the English parks in style and plants and aesthetics. It was rather accurate.
Shinjuku Park was split beautifully into three sections: French, English, and Japanese. A little money slipped into the hands of the owners allowed for a late-night picnic, where several of the Anglo-speakers easily coerced the others into setting up the spread. Seiuchin and Kevin were particularly at home, each relishing in the nostalgia and homesickness, while Kid and Gazelleman spoke together of how different their barren landscapes looked by comparison, and Scarface shared various homemade desserts with Check Mate and Jacqueline.
“A girl knows these things,” whispered Rinko.
“Yeah, but a guy knows things, too.” Mantaro sighed. “I’m not even sure that Kevin is straight, let alone like bisexual or whatever. He picked Chloe to be his partner at the Olympics, and he rejected Jacqueline . . . Jacqueline! Jacqui is like the hottest babe of all babes, so if he’s rejected the big-booby goddess -? Well, I can’t see him going for any other babe, either.”
Rinko stopped directly before him. The slow turning of her upper body was almost eerie in the darkness, but more so was the narrowing of her eyes and widening of her nostrils. He performed a quick double-take, as he looked between her fuming form and the picnic in the distance, and strove to pick up the notes of a Japanese tune in the absence of words. Rinko caught the aversion of his gaze, and so lowered herself to be directly in his eye-line, before folding her arms underneath her chest and clearing her throat. Rinko asked in a cold tone:
“Are you saying I’m not as hot as Jacqueline?”
Mantaro threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. In the distance, Jacqueline waved her hands to welcome over Keiko and Tamaki. The three girls gathered together to share in drinks and gossip, while Jade followed slowly behind in the distance, and – in the crook of his arm – he carried a large basket filled with German meats for the barbeque. Mantaro groaned. He swallowed hard as his mouth watered at the prospect of hot dogs and burgers and buns . . . Rinko snapped her fingers . . . he shook his head and rapidly blinked, as he looked back to her and said:
“I – I just mean that I don’t think he’s interested in any girl, plus –”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at me!” Rinko wiped at her eyes. “He stares at me through his mask like he’s undressing me, and he’s always so polite and friendly to me, and he caught me when I fell from my seat in the bleachers . . . our hands touched . . . lingered . . . I felt the warmth of his skin and I felt the warmth in his soul. It’s like we’re connected. I think he feels it, too.”
“Okay, if – if – he were into you . . . wouldn’t that be a good thing?”
“No! I’m -! I’m not – I’m not interested in any guys . . . not now.”
The tears brimmed fresh in her eyes, until they spilled over heavy and fast. It brought out a primal feeling within Mantaro, something that forced his hand to his heart, and he rubbed at his chest through his civilian clothes and struggled to maintain his usual smile. A silence fell between them, broken only by her soft sobs and his trembled breaths. The two stared down at the ground beneath their feet, each one counting their breaths and swallowing hard, and yet the lumps within their throats lingered, only to be overcome as Rinko gargled out:
“Not since Chaos . . .”
Mantaro snapped his head to the side. He threw a hand to his face, before he pressed the palm deep into his eye in a bid to force back tears. A spark of colour burst about his vision, almost akin to a migraine, and the distorted sights were made worse by his racing heart. It beat loud and fast in his eardrums . . . louder, louder . . . faster, faster . . . it was almost audible from outside his chest, while his head grew dizzy and light . . . he sniffed. The scent of a wild flower brought to mind the image of one held by dainty fingers above a freshly dug grave . . .
“You know, I loved him, too,” choked Mantaro.
“Yeah, but this is different,” said Rinko. “I never had that connection with someone before. It was like he understood me on a fundamental level, as two orphans always trying to prove our worth and forge a found family, and he loved me unconditionally . . . I’ve never had that from a boy before, let alone one so special and selfless. He helped me let down my guard . . .”
“You were vulnerable.” Mantaro smiled. “I was vulnerable, too. He showed me a side of myself that I never knew was there, and he helped me to be a better person. We complemented each other and we fought for one another . . . I’d have died to protect him.”
“You were two hearts beating as one . . .”
“Exactly,” said Mantaro.
“It hurt me so deeply when he died. I – I never saw anyone die before, but there he was . . . in my arms . . . I could see the life slowly slipping away from him, along with all that potential and talent and personality, and it was so final . . . so absolute . . . I was powerless. It was like time was slipping through my hands . . . time I’d never get back . . . time that could have been spent with him. We could have faced the future together. It was stolen from me, Manta. From us!”
Rinko dropped onto the bench beside him. It was a heavy fall, as every ounce of energy was sapped from every muscle in her body, and her head collided with her hands, as she buried her face within them in a desperate attempt to hide her tears. Mantaro touched her shoulder. He held tight onto the thin frame, with the bone now prominent against the lack of fat and flesh, and he rubbed small circles with his thumb against her upper arm. The small gesture provided little relief for Rinko, as she wept and wept until there were no tears left to shed.
A series of coughs and splutters escaped her, until – finally – she dropped her hands onto her legs and stared down at her tearstained palms. The red flush to her cheek matched that of her bloodshot eyes, while her twitching lips pulled into grimaces and mockeries of what should have been a smile, and Mantaro could only hold onto her with a gentle touch, as he stared ahead at the picnic in the distance, unable to look at her lest he weep in turn. Rinko heaved out:
“How did you move on from your love for him?”
“I guess because it was never reciprocated,” said Mantaro. “I also guess because our situation was different; he made me reassess my own bisexuality, but I was also left with a crush that probably wouldn’t have amounted to anything in the long-term. There was only one thing that was real: our friendship. It was a friendship so deep that we were like brothers . . . he was the Terryman to my Kinnikuman. I never saw Jacqueline as a betrayal of Chaos, because our love wasn’t the same. It was different from the start, you know? My love for him was . . . well . . .”
“Platonic?” Rinko finished.
“Not quite. It was somehow deeper than the platonic, but more shallow than the romantic. I felt such a deep and keen connection with him, that it was like he was my soul-mate in some sense, but equally I never really wanted to woo him or bed him or date him. I just wanted to be with him, because even a minute in his light warmed my soul. He made me realise that words like ‘other half’ are just deceptive, because they make it seem like we only get one love in our life.
“I love Jacqueline. I loved Chaos. I also have other types of love . . . the love of my parents, the love of my friends, and the love of my mentors . . . just because I love other people, or love new people, doesn’t undo my love for him or undermine our relationship. I also know he wouldn’t want me to be sad either . . . to grieve too much or too long . . . I sometimes think my sadness is the true insult to our love, because it goes against anything he ever wanted for me.”
“You make it sound so easy . . .”
“Actually, it was the hardest thing in the world.” Mantaro sighed. “There are still times when I’m terrified of losing Jacqueline, where the wound refuses to quite heal, and other times when I’ll see a model-kit in a shop window and just feel that emptiness and loneliness like a blow to my heart, like I’m hearing the news of his death all over again. It can be like someone’s carving out a Chaos-shaped piece of my soul. Still, life goes on and I have so much to be grateful about . . .”
Mantaro smiled. The moon shone bright over the cityscape, as their friends gathered together with music and blankets and cuisine across the beautiful fields, and the stars above twinkled with a burning familiarity, as he tilted back his head and looked for some sign of his home-planet. It was a cold night, but one that welcome warm embraces of friends. Keiko and Tamaki huddled over a campfire with Seiuchin, while Kid warmed his hands with Kevin over the open barbeque, and Jacqueline waved over from her spot beneath a tree and thick blanket.
He pulled Rinko against him, as they held each other in a platonic embrace. Jade cast his gaze towards them, but a quick raise of a hand put was enough to put his mind to rest, and Jacqueline – with her uncanny sense of empathy – simply nodded in understanding to them. The tears had stopped, but the emptiness continued . . . that hollowness in his heart that said: ‘Chaos would have loved to star-gaze here’. He closed his eyes for a brief second. He smiled.
“I’m grateful for Chaos, because in a way he led me to Jacqueline.” Mantaro sniffed back his tears. “I’m grateful for every moment that I wake up and see her beautiful face at its most natural, and every night when she kisses me and I fall asleep still feeling her lips on mine. I’m grateful for her highs and lows, for our shared dreams and ambitions, and her brains and beauty . . .”
“But she’s not Chaos, Manta.”
“No, but it’s because she’s not Chaos that I love her. There’s only one Chaos, just like there’s only one Jacqueline, and I love her because she’s so one-of-a-kind and special. He wouldn’t tease me like her, but then she wouldn’t be as polite as him. They’re each their own people, with their own faults and virtues, and it’s apples and oranges . . . I’m not going to compare them, because it’d be insulting to both. Sometimes it’s enough to just love . . . and I do . . . I love them.”
Rinko wrapped her arms around Mantaro. The two fell back into that familiar silence, with each quietly listening to the crackles and snaps of the fireplace, while some argued in a distance and others laughed and giggled closer to their hiding spot, but – through it all – life went on all around them. The cars beeped their horns. The artificial sales signs glowed. Mantaro even heard the thrum of an aeroplane engine as people flew high overhead, travelling to some unknown destination, as he sat gazing up like a small ant lost within its nest of thousands.
“If you’re not at that point yet,” continued Mantaro. “It’s okay.”
“I guess,” said Rinko. “I sometimes think I could see myself with Jade, but Kevin? Ew, no! I need someone that is soft and gentle, who would wrap their arms around me and tell me that everything will be okay, and I want someone who would whisper sweet nothings in my ear, as we talk about our future and dreams and hopes . . . I want a partner and an equal.”
“I still think you’re imagining this romance with him, because it’s easier to reject an imaginary relationship than to face the grief of a real one. Why don’t you take some time to yourself? I mean, you don’t have to turn him down just yet. Relax a while . . . think on things.”
Rinko pulled back. The little shake of her head spoke volumes, as she pulled her feet onto the edge of the bench, and her long arms wrapped around her bare legs. Jade walked a little closer to their direction, where he broke away from the rest of the group. He lingered just far enough away to provide privacy, but close enough that he could be at her side with only a second of notice, and his blue eyes never once left her trembling frame. Mantaro nodded at him. He nodded back. Mantaro allowed a few seconds to pass, before he made one last attempt to console Rinko:
“My grandfather once told me that falling in love again is like being torn between two stars. You see both twinkling in the sky, so beautiful and bright, but – no matter how far you reach – they’re forever out of your grasp until you can learn to wait for the darkness to pass . . . it’s only with the clarity of the morning sun, when both are gone, that you realise your grief was blinding you. If you spend your life wanting the unobtainable, you’ll always feel empty . . .”
“So I can’t feel real love until I’ve let go of my grief?”
“Something like that,” said Mantaro. “You can see what’s really in front of you when the darkness passes, and you can see real options and real love interests. Right now, you’re looking at two stars: Chaos and Kevin. In my opinion, neither is real . . . wait for your grief to pass, Rinko, then look again with clear vision at folks like Jade or Check Mate or Scarface.”
He tilted his head towards Jade. The other man bushed and looked down to his feet, even as his eyes made quick and furtive glances towards Rinko, but – by drawing her attention towards a potential lover and present love interest – it inadvertently caused her eyes to catch sight of someone else in the distance . . . someone not far beyond Jade . . . Kevin. Rinko at once jumped to her feet, as she clasped her hand to her breast. A shuddered breath escaped her trembling lips, while her face fell resolute and lips pressed into a tight line, and her head lifted itself in an emulation of confidence. Mantaro made to speak; she cut him off before he could utter a word.
“Wait here,” said Rinko.
Rinko ran past Jade towards Kevin. The draught caused by her movements caught at Jade, whose blond locks whipped about his face even as he turned to follow her blurred body, and his hand – ever upward – reached towards her and fell limply to his side. He looked between Rinko, who stood by everyone’s ‘knight in shining armour’, and Mantaro, who sat awkwardly on his own on the old stone bench. Finally, he sheepishly returned to the group and sat beside Scarface.
The moon dimmed, while clouds passed across the skies. Rinko talked at great length to Kevin, with her hands gesticulating in detail to every word uttered, and – finally – she placed her hands on her hips and dropped her head with a long sigh, before she looked to him with a relieved smile. He said something behind his mask. Her face fell. The previous flush was drained to make way for a deathly white complexion, while Kevin simply turned his back on Rinko and walked away, until he was with Scarface and Jade in their far corner. The three friends were content.
Rinko was left standing alone. The colour failed to return to her cheeks, as she turned to look towards Mantaro, who – for the first time in a long time – found laughter bubbling away inside him, where it threatened to burst forth at any moment. He was choking back on giggles and chuckles, even when she marched back towards him with open mouth and wide eyes. He still maintained an element of self-control even a she stopped in front of him, but then she said:
“He’s dating Warsman?”
Mantaro burst out into laughter. The tears this time were welcomed, as they spilled down his mask, and soon his sides hurt and his lungs refused to gather breath. He continued to laugh and laugh, for the first time in so long, and the sheer relief that coursed through him brought a drop in adrenaline, as every muscle in his body relaxed and loosened. The laughter continued until Rinko slapped him hard upside his head, at which point it reduced into muffled chuckles.
“It’s not funny,” snapped Rinko.
“Sorry, but I did warn you that I thought he was gay!”
“You didn’t say he was dating a Legend!”
“No, but – come on – it was pretty funny.” Mantaro sniggered. “Plus, it took your mind off your grief, right? Look, life is all about the embarrassments and distractions, and we have to take the ups with the downs . . . let’s just take this as a sign to move on, yeah?”
Rinko sighed. The grief seemed to slowly expel itself with that single breath, as her shoulders dropped and her eyes drifted upward, and – together – they looked to the brightest star in the skies and thought back to the greatest star in their lives. Mantaro stood beside her, before he took her hand in his and provided a gentle squeeze. Rinko squeezed back. The laughter and tears faded away into something calmer . . . something deeper . . . both gazed with impassive features, but eyes filled with emotion and thoughts. Rinko broke the silence with a barely audible:
“He would want me to be happy, wouldn’t he?”
Mantaro tilted back his head, letting the moonlight illuminate his features, and bathed in the glow of the stars, while his heart finally slowed to a gentle pace. A bright smile broke across his features, as one final tear broke free from his eye and fell down his cheek. It glistened in the night-time. Mantaro closed his eyes and took in one last deep breath, before he turned to Rinko and blinked back tears, and – with an unsteady smile – whispered warmly:
“He would . . .”