Chapter Text
So high up, the air was cold and sharp, scraping past her cheeks with a hint of pain that she found quite pleasing due to having experienced it many times before. Wind tugged at her clothes and tried to undo the long braid at the back of her head while she overlooked the endless city scape sprawling in every direction around her. Buildings upon buildings, skyscrapers stacked next to each other neatly in a city planner’s wet dream, roads cutting clear lines straight through and forming blocks of office areas, residential living centres and more.
It was impossible to see anything in detail but the heaving, pulsating mess down below was filled with cars, busses, bikes, animals and humans alike. Lights flickered and shifted, even in the middle of the day, bright enough to be seen from so far away while the constant droning of motors, music and conversation filled the city with a never-ending background noise persistent enough to make moments of quiet contemplation utterly impossible. One of the many perks, or drawbacks, of living and working in the most populated city on earth.
As impressive and tall as the building she was on top of at the moment may seem by itself, it was surrounded by much higher, much more spacious constructs of concrete and glass reaching up far enough to almost pierce the clouds and into the sky itself. Towers dedicated to influential and rich groups and people, employing thousands upon thousands of workers all around the globe, dealing with money in higher sums than a normal person’s mind could reliably comprehend.
Hers on the other hand was a building shared between a couple different companies, start-ups or specialised firms without the ambitions to be as big and boisterous as they could be. Connecting floors were rented out to allow those smaller sized corporations to fit their entire administrative operations in one place, with a total of five enterprises filling out the building. She knew little about what they were all doing, even the people she worked for. Her only concern was to ensure the computers, servers, and E-Mail services for the HR department of the company that employed her worked smoothly. Outside of that, she had no incentive to find out more.
A few years ago, she did not even know how to update software on a computer without being afraid of breaking something, let alone have any knowledge of hard drives, RAM sticks, cooling fans and more. Her Japanese had been choppy at best, able to get around but not enough to engage in casual conversation with others. Yet, here she was, working a dead-end tech support job she had no interest in, for an unsuccessful company in a foreign country, halfway across the world from her family and everything she grew up with, her only friend being another snarky American woman that worked on the same floor as her. And she had no idea how she ended up like that.
Back during her time in school, nothing had ever posed a real challenge to her. No class had been too difficult to pass every test in, every subject had been simple enough to understand without needing a single extra day to study. Homework had been a joke, finished within minutes of her starting it. Even the advanced classes had posed no threat to her spotless track record of curricular activities. In the eyes of her teachers, she had been the best sort of student. Smart, engaged, popular among the other kids and never causing any sort of trouble, disrespecting the rules or skipping classes.
Even outside of school, she had never found anything to be difficult for her. Any hobby or interest she had picked up, she had immediately been good at. Different types of sports, music and drawing, theatre acting or video games. She had even worked a job on the weekends, not because she or her family needed the money, but because she had wanted to experience what it meant to have and hold an occupation, so she could be better prepared for her future. Life had been too easy, boring almost. Nothing had ever made her stop and reconsider, nothing ever felt like a true hurdle.
Calliope the superstar. Calliope the gifted child. Calliope the prodigy. Her parents, teachers, other adults and even some of her peers had always praised her for everything she managed to pull off, marvelling at how easy picking up new skills was to her. They told her she would go far in the world, could become a theatre actor if she wanted, a rising star in the music business, an aspiring author or a one-of-a-kind academic student.
Out of this sense of overachievement and confidence, she had decided to pack all her things, wave her family goodbye and move across the world with a naïve idea of seeking excitement and challenges. With her solid interest in the Japanese language and its culture, Tokyo had become her primary target. She had wanted to throw herself wholeheartedly against a new challenge, experience struggles and trials but overcome them all to prove to herself that she could do it, that all the praise she received had been justified and that she deserved to feel special. Though things turned out quite different.
Another gust of wind pushed it's way past her, freezing her to the bone and dragging on her clothes uncomfortably. As per the standard company dress code, she was wearing a white, button up dress shirt with a black tie fastened tightly around the collar of it. The black suit jacket to go with it lay discarded back at her desk, having decided to ditch it for the duration of her break. The shirt was tighter than she liked, her arms feeling constricted whenever she tried to move them too much, though she assumed that was all part of the dress code to ensure the workers did not feel too comfortable and would slack off.
A matching pair of black suit pants adorned her legs down to her ankles, a simple black leather belt with a silver buckle keeping it held in place. For shoes, she had picked out a pair of red, high top skate shoes with a white sole and white shoelaces, contrasting quite directly with the rest of her standard business outfit. This was one of the few opportunities for uniqueness that the company allowed, as it made no mention of shoes in its dress code and allowed anyone to wear whatever footwear they enjoyed in the office.
Her clothes offered little in terms of protection from the cold, causing her to shiver slightly. To get out of the direct line of attack for the wind, she pushed herself backwards and away from the waist-high concrete wall at the edge of the roof, turning around to show her back to it instead. Without hesitation, she squatted down before letting herself fall backwards into a sitting position, scooting up to the wall again to rest her back against it. She pulled her knees closer to herself, only her shoes and her rear touching the ground while her back was pressed up to the wall to shelter herself from the wind.
Sure, the concrete was cold but not nearly as cold as it would be to expose herself to the wind for even more time. From her new position, she could see the rest of the roof area pretty well, though there was no one and nothing else but the dull silver exhausts of air-cooling units and the small square box of even more grey concrete rising up from the ground in which the stairway for roof access was located. With so many companies sharing the building, none of them had ever decided to take the responsibility for decorating the roof or encourage it as a spot for workers to take their breaks. She was not even sure if she was allowed to be up there to be honest.
That did not stop her from returning almost every break though, to look out over the bustling streets of Tokyo and ponder over her own life. That and fulfil an urge or a habit that she had developed over her time in this country. A habit that called to her in that moment as well with an alluring voice that promised warmth, relaxation and a distraction from thinking too much. A habit she was more than happy to follow through with once again, without a moment hesitation. Her hand dove into her pocket to produce two objects.
First was a simple lighter, also black in colour and heavy enough to indicate that it was still decently filled with ample fluid to serve for another few weeks before having to be exchanged for a new one. Second was a square box of cigarettes, freshly bought that morning on her way to work after having run out inside her apartment the night before. Warning labels were printed all over the box, threatening long term damages and the dangers of smoking, all of which were promptly ignored as her hand cracked open the top for the first time.
The smell hit her nose immediately and caused her to let out a long sigh. Slow cured, aromatic, hiding an intense and almost spicy flavour inside once they would be lit. With just one hand, she skilfully fished one of the cigarettes out of the box before closing it again, placing it on the ground next to her, letting it stand upright, just in case she needed another one before her break would be over. Which sometimes, but not all the time, would be the case.
The cigarette was brought to her mouth, held between her lips at the corner of her mouth before she approached its end with the lighter. One hand shielded the small flame from the still somewhat existent wind while the other guided it to its destination, dropping away only when she could feel and smell that she had been successful. The first drag went through her like a calming touch on top of her shoulder, her head rolling back until it rested against the concrete wall just as her back did. With a long breath, she exhaled the smoke and closed her eyes, focusing on the taste inside of her mouth.
She used to hate smoking. Back home, she had never even wanted to try, being around friends who were doing it having been enough of an experience for her to be disgusted by the smell. But now, a few years later, after all the stress she had endured since then and especially after all the involuntary department wide outings with her colleagues and superiors at the office, smoking held a vice grip on her body and had become as natural as breathing to her. As much as she still knew it was bad in the long run, the peace of mind and acceptance among her peers it offered outweighed all concerns of bodily harm or addiction risks.
Early during her stay in Tokyo and with this company, she had felt furious most of the time due to the many frustrations she had run into headfirst and could not find a way to overcome. That anger had seeped into her work life until she had been approached by the one other American woman in the office, the one she had come to see as something of a friend over time. The snappy girl had called her out on her behaviour, how it made working with her impossible and would drag her performance down in the long run.
They had butted heads for some weeks but finally, being able to talk to someone actively, even if it was in the form of arguing, helped her mellow out to a point where she apologised and began to try and move on from her anger. It had been a slow process and at first, rather than reaching acceptance or understanding, she had turned to self-pity instead. She had pitied herself for making the wrong decisions, for how unfair and cruel the world was to her, whined about how she deserved better and how good she used to be back home. Though eventually, even her self-pity ran out and simply made space for a quiet, apathetic acceptance of things.
The tiny apartment she rented, barely large enough to move in without bumping into the walls used to drive her mad, though now, she simply walked through the narrow halls without complaint. Her lack of friends and people she could spend time with was a huge source of anxiety and stress in the past, though now, she tried to focus on the one friend-like acquaintance she had as well as trying to find activities to do by herself. Her job feeling rather dead-end, with no opportunities to rise higher on the ladder or receive more recognition was simply a fact she made peace with rather than struggle or look for a new one. The lack of any hobbies, passions or interests that she felt was taken as a sign she had grown up into an adult proper, even though she missed many of the things she used to do.
After everything she had seen, done and changed in herself to fit into her new environment, her choices were to simply endure and keep going or give up, throw away the past years of her life in Japan and return home to her family with her tail tugged between her legs, admitting that her confidence had been misplaced and she was not nearly as capable as she believed she was. The latter was not really an option for her, especially not now after so much time spent on desperately wanting to make it work. The only thing left was to simply accept how things were and lie on the phone whenever her mother called to ask how she was doing.
Another long drag was taken off the cigarette in an attempt to disperse the thoughts inside of her head, focusing on the flavour, the slight stinging sensation in her throat, the smell invading her nose aggressively. Anything was better than to begin questioning things again or wanting things to be different. It had cost so much to adapt and to become complacent, there was no reason to undo all her work by thinking too hard about it. This was her life now. Every day was the same and would be the same for however long she was allowed to continue on.
Her attempt at returning to a more apathetic and quiet state was interrupted by a couple of loud sounds reaching her ears in very short succession. First, a metal banging and scraping as the door between the stairway and the top of the roof was thrown open violently, causing it to swing all the way around until the handle connected with the concrete of the wall, allowing the door to begin closing again due to the force of the impact. Right after, she could hear the sound of a pair of heels walking in a fast gait across the floor, gaining some distance away from the doorway they had arrived through.
She kept her eyes closed and mouth shut, hoping it was just some poor employee who had mistaken their floor in a rush and would leave right away upon noticing their mistake. Once the door fell back into its lock with a loud click, she could hear a muffled noise as something made of paper or a similar material was dropped onto the floor right before an unbridled scream or cry of anger echoed across the roof and through the air. She knew this sort of scream well, having let out more than her own fair share of them during her first months in Japan.
For a moment, she argued with herself if she should bother getting up and checking out the noise or if she should simply stay where she was, enjoying her break and letting things work themselves out. That was, until the sound of English mixed with another language, some sort of European, German maybe, reached her ears and made her open her eyes and inspect the new arrival with a curious look. She had expected some exhausted or annoyed Japanese salaryman, not the clearly foreign woman stomping her heeled shoes onto the stack of papers on the ground while cursing.
“Scheiße! So eine Scheiße! Fuck! Always the same shit! Halt die Fresse und lass mich in Ruhe! I just want to fucking…AARGH!“
With her back still to the wall and the cigarette still in her mouth, she could see the woman turning away from the papers on the ground with a final loud scream and walking up to the waist high wall at the edge of the roof opposite of Calliope. The other woman grabbed onto the old, metal railing on top of it with her hands while hunching over it somewhat, breathing loud and heavy with a few choked sobs in between, peering out over the ledge and down onto the bustling streets below while trying to get a grip.
Before even really thinking about it, Calliope had grabbed the box of cigarettes and stuffed it back into her pocket, pushing herself up on her feet before patting down her clothes in the areas they had touched the ground to make herself more presentable. One hand went to her black hair to confirm that the braid she had woven it into was still firm and complete while the other fixed her tie to sit back in the middle of her chest rather than titled off to one side. After ensuring everything was in place and fixed up, she shifted the cigarette into the corner of her mouth and walked up toward the other woman.
From what she could see positioned behind the woman, she was wearing a pretty standard outfit, painfully typical for employees working in offices in Japan. A similar button up shirt to the one Calliope was wearing, also in white but looser and without the black tie, as the raised collar at her neck revealed. On top of the shirt was a much too tight grey vest, small enough to know even from the back that the buttons in front had to be struggling to stay together without popping clean off.
The woman was wearing a pencil skirt in the same grey as the vest, also tighter than what Calliope would deem comfortable. The rest of her legs were covered in a pair of dark tights, ending with her feet in a pair of fashionable black pumps with impressively tall heels. Her brown hair was done up in an expertly made bun at the back of her head, hiding its true length and keeping it out of her face during work hours, though after the outburst, it had become a bit more disorganised with a few strands of hair sticking out and falling about halfway down her back in a messy look.
While the other woman continued to breath and quietly sob to herself, Calliope squatted down closer to the to the papers on the ground and gave them a quick analytical glance. Copies of project papers, small slips of green, yellow and red paper taped to some of them with additional notes or dates. There were also copies of letters and e-mails written to and by some high-ranking CEO in charge of the projects the previous papers had shown, several sections marked with circles or exclamation marks.
Way at the bottom was a schedule marked with the title “Executive Assistant Takanashi Kiara”, showing which hours the owner was expected to work in and outside the office alongside the CEO, evenings and even weekends often marked with various notes of company outings or meetings. There was barely a day not spent on work, let alone a couple of hours given to the woman away from her job or superiors to breath and relax. Even Calliope’s own schedule was not this filled, and she could not help but feel comradery toward the woman she had never met before.
Her hands scooped up the papers and folders off the ground, including the irreversibly damaged ones on top and stacked them all neatly up together again. At least the ground had not been wet or the whole stack might have been ruined just like that. With all the documents in hand, she rose back to her feet and approached the other woman carefully, stepping up close to the railing directly on the sobbing woman’s right before clearing her throat in a polite attempt to gain her attention before speaking up, having figured out how to speak clearly with a cigarette in her mouth a long time ago.
“Tough day, huh?”
The sudden voice caused the other woman to flinch in place, head snapping around toward the source of the noise in surprise, having been so caught up in her head that she had neither heard the movement of steps behind her, nor the clearing of a throat right next to hear. With her head turned toward Calliope, she revealed her face for the first time. A cute nose, large mouth, amber eyes, all framed nicely by originally skilfully applied makeup, though it would need to be removed or touched up later on due to the tears on her cheeks having smeared her mascara in faint streaks downward.
“Huh? Shit, sorry, didn’t know anyone else was up here.”
The woman spoke up in a shaky voice with a slight European accent, obviously surprised and rather embarrassed about having been caught in the middle of her emotional moment, immediately trying to apologise and cover up the evidence of her tears by moving a hand up to her face and wiping at her eyes. The action allowed Calliope to see her hands, spotting painted nails of a dull teal that popped nicely compared to the grey of her clothes and brown of her hair. A few fashionable rings adorned her slender digits as well though none were as unique as her nails.
“Don’t sweat it. Not like I said anything before. “
Calliope tried to speak casually, giving the other woman the chance to get a hold of herself over the next couple of seconds, which she did surprisingly well. Her tears seemed to stop flowing as if on command after a few more wipes with her palm, her surprised and sombre expression making way for a much more neutral one as she prepared to interact with another person, a stranger non the less. Being teary eyed and a mess would not do when trying to make a positive impression after all. Or as positive as could be after having been witnessed during an emotional temper tantrum. Calliope for her part simply waited and held out her hand with the stacked-up papers expectantly.
“Might wanna have these back. Wind will pick ‘em up otherwise.”
“You’re right, thank you very much. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”
The papers were grabbed in a quick motion, obviously ashamed or embarrassed about the way she had acted before and trying to regain some of her composure by regaining possession of the items she had let her anger and frustration out on. For several seconds, neither of them knew what to say, simply looking at each other in quiet observation. Calliope had a few ideas of what exactly may have led the woman to break down like this but felt it was not her place to ask or even mention it. Before she could do much more thinking, the other woman’s eyes had locked onto the cigarette in her mouth with a mix of disgust but also want. Picking up on the hint, Calliope reached into her pocket with one hand to retrieve the box with a questioning look.
“Want one?”
“Under most other circumstances I would have said no but I’m not even going to lie and admit I need one really bad right now. If you’d be so kind. I’m beyond fucking tired.”
The other woman looked somewhat defeated at having to admit to it but also relieved, eyes closed and obviously having decided to do away with the neutral and cold polite act that was expected to be shown to most strangers or in possible business interactions. She sighed out loudly while rubbing at her temple with one hand before opening her eyes again, the previous neutral expression melting away to expose an utterly exhausted visage, the now smudged and runny make-up revealing the dark rings under her eyes for anyone that looked close enough at her. She had been through the ringer recently and it was terribly difficult to hide.
Calliope for her part did not mention it and instead flicked the top of the box of cigarettes open with a movement of her wrist, plucking one of the small rolls out of the package and offering it to the other woman who gracefully accepted it and immediately settled it between her lips. The black lighter came into use soon after, being raised upward but held a couple of inches away, allowing the other woman to lean in and close the distance between cigarette and flame herself to avoid accidentally burning her by holding it too close. Once it was lit and burning pleasantly, both the lighter and box found their way back into her pocket, stowed away for next time.
She had expected the officer worker to cough and sputter at the taste and smoke in her mouth and lungs but instead, she found her to be taking a deep drag, a slight shudder running through her before breathing out as deep as she could. It seemed the woman was at least acquainted with the feeling, even if she looked like quite the opposite. Rather than make a big thing out of, she mirrored the action, leaning over the railing nearby and letting her breath join the one of the other woman, as both drifted away as clouds of smoke in the wind.
“Used to hate these things. Still kind of do but man, sometimes you just need one, right? Thank you, you’re a life saver, Miss…?”
“Mori. Though Calliope is just fine as well. No need for honorifics or any of that crap either. We do enough of that at work.”
Calliope was quite blunt about preferring to be called by her first name and only her first name. While speaking Japanese, she naturally came to use honorifics appropriately for whoever she was talking to, of course, though with a fellow foreigner stuck working in a job where appearances could mean everything and the wrong choice of addressing someone could be considered a disaster, she simply wanted the chance to let loose and not have to worry for once. A chance that was picked up on quickly by the other woman who offered a tired smile and a gentle nod of her head.
“Alright then Calliope. Then I am Kiara to you, just Kiara if you want.”
“Kiara, nice.”
After that, their conversation immediately died down again, Calliope turning her head to look ahead of her, lazily staring at their reflections in the windows of the skyscraper on the other side of the road. Kiara found herself slowly calming down, her shaking hands returning to normal while her speeding mind slowed to a much more manageable level, anger and frustration making way for curiosity and gratefulness toward the other woman that had watched her break down and had refrained from making any comment about it. While this moment would surely haunt her for years to come as an embarrassing mistake she made, at least it would not affect her reputation at work any more, than it already was racked for other reasons.
“I also used to hate smokes. But living here, working in an office just sorta gets you addicted without you even knowing,”
Surprisingly enough, Calliope had been the one to speak up first again. As polite and neutral as she may have presented herself so far, a part of her was desperately latching onto the option to speak to someone in her mother tongue again, no matter what it was about. That was not to say she disliked talking or listening to Japanese. Years of living in the country made her improve fast after all but even so, sometimes she craved being able not to have to translate everything in her mind before speaking or answering to anything. Such a chance could not be wasted, no matter how awkward it may make her look if she chose strange conversation topics.
“You’re so right. I used to do it a lot back home but quit a few years before moving. But with it being so normal here, hard not to get swept up.”
Kiara seemed to take the bait for a conversation, also glad to be able to talk freely with someone, even a complete stranger. Maybe her being a stranger was even a good thing, knowing they may never meet again after that day safe for passing by each other in the elevator or on the stairs. It made talking and giving her genuine opinion on things a lot easier and less of a weighty decision to make. She turned around to follow Calliope’s gaze to the windows across from them, leaning onto the railing with both her arms to stand more comfortably.
“Especially with all these stupid department outings. I swear I should blame my boss for getting addicted, forcing me to come along so often.”
“Yeah. I fucking hate them.”
Where Kiara’s tone was previously simply exhausted and laid back, it had suddenly become laced with venom in just a few seconds. It was a surprising enough shift for Calliope to turn her head to take a look at her rooftop companion, seeing a deep frown and a stern expression on the woman’s face. Upon noticing she was being observed, Kiara quickly got a hold of her expression and placing her chin on the back of one of her hands by hunching over enough to reach it on top of the railing.
“I won’t ask if you don’t want me to. Sounds like a lot.”
“I just fucking hate all of it. And I don’t just mean going out. Hate the people there as well. My boss is such a fucking creep every single time.”
Calliope gave a slow but taken aback nod, unsure how to proceed from there. It seemed she had started an absolutely terrible topic to talk about and almost regretted trying to strike up a conversation. Just her luck for offhandedly mentioning the one topic Kiara had definitely not wanted to think about. Either that, or she had truly become so dreadfully bad at interacting socially with people due to her almost complete isolation safe for her one friend in the office that she simply did not know how to talk normally anymore. Before she could wonder more or was prompted to say something, Kiara suddenly continued, unable to hold back her rage fuelled words.
“When I first got this job, I was so happy. Not working a normal desk job or a secretary but a direct assistant to an influential and self-made CEO? Landing that right after arriving in Japan with nothing to my name? Too good to be true but I took the chance anyway. Thought I could learn a lot about business, the pay was beyond good, I could get my name out there and meet other people in the scene. All fucking bullshit.”
Her grip on the documents in her hands increased in strength enough to cause them to crinkle and crumble, obvious indents from her fingers showing in paper and plastic of printouts and folders but she did not notice whatsoever, her mind too busy replaying memory after memory and the emotions of having her chance turn out to be a massive disappointment. An angered noise left her as she clenched her teeth, almost biting through the cigarette in the corner of her mouth, eyes glaring directly at her own reflection as if to taunt herself for being so stupid.
“Turns out I’m nothing but exotic eye candy for my boss. A price, some sort of rare collection piece for her to show off to her disgusting friends and partners. Someone to just walk around with her to look pretty and play lap bunny when she gets drunk at some karaoke place. I haven’t learned shit, don’t have a single fucking day to myself and guess what, she’s not self-made. Her friend runs the fucking company. Also means HR doesn’t care because they’re afraid of stepping on the big boss’s toes.”
She was almost ready to chuck all the papers directly over the edge of the building with her trembling hand but managed to collect herself at the last moment, instead simply giving the grey concrete wall a kick with the tip of her shoe. It was painful of course but it helped enough to release some of her anger and keep her on track enough to be aware that she was still being observed and in the presence of another person. Her being a stranger truly did wonders, causing Kiara to have no filter when talking about her superiors.
“I feel disgusting every time I come home. I know she and her friends leer at me all the time in ways I don’t even want to think about. Fucking pigs, all of them. But what can I do? Just some poor foreign girl no one gives a shit about. Can barely walk to and back from work without some asshole staring at me like I’m some kind of alien.”
A bitter laugh left her as more memories flooded back to her mind, tears almost welling up in her eyes again but held back entirely out of spite of not wanting to give herself the satisfaction of feeling pity. She blamed herself for falling for the job offer that seemed much too good. Even if she were to quit now, she would return to being a no one with nothing on her resumé, lost in a country so very far from home all by herself.
“If it’s any help, I get that last part. When I first got here, I got stared at more often than I can count. You get used to it eventually. Or at least I did.”
“Not sure that is something I should get used to. Maybe everyone else should just get used to me instead.”
Once again, her words seemed bitter and laced with anger, something that struck a chord with Calliope as it reminded her a lot of herself when she first arrived in Japan. Similar struggles of feeling like an outcast, not knowing where she belonged, stressed by trying to fit herself into a different culture and being cut off from everything she had known before. Out of a sense of comradery, she raised a hand to gather the other woman’s attention without having to touch her unannounced, knowing she was still being observed through the reflection in the window.
“Believe me, been there. It gets better over time. Mind if I ask something that may sound stupid?”
“Go ahead. Can’t be more stupid than how I’m acting right now.”
“Why come here? Based on your accent, you’re not from America and you’re also not from around here, so why Japan of all things?”
At first, Kiara turned quiet, taking a few intense drags on the cigarette, strong and fast enough to almost burn it down to the end. After mulling over her words for a while, she finally turned her head to look directly at Calliope again, once again less angry or bitter and seeming more defeated and exhausted. Her free hand ran through her face, swiping up some escapee strands of hair to tug them behind her ears instead to be fixed into the bun later again.
“Honest answer? I just wanted to get as far away as I could. See if life was better here than home. If life was better literally anywhere else but home. I worked my ass off for everything back there. And so did my mother. Never met my Dad, fucked off before I was even born. School was hell and I barely made it through next to working a job to help my Mom with bills. Had to take out a loan to study at a shitty university for a basic degree. After paying it back, I used the last of my money to move here a couple of months ago.”
With another loud sigh, she took the last drag off her cigarette before dropping it to the ground of the roof to join the grey concrete, giving it a firm step or two with her black shoes to snuff out the last embers of the flame without allowing even a chance of survival. The action seemed to carry some meaning for her as she glared down at the extinguished smoke under her shoe, twisting her foot once or twice to add to the destruction.
“But guess what, it’s just as shit here. I’m still broke and lonely but now I’m also getting eye fucked by my boss every single day and couldn’t even go back home if I wanted. Fuck me, right?”
Calliope had nothing to answer to that, instead simply looking at the other woman with something akin to pity or concern in her eyes. It had been a while since she had met someone, she could honestly agree had it off worse than her. Both of them dealt with many of the same issues of being a foreigner in a new community but at least Calliope had her dignity intact while the brunette was treated like an escort rather than an employee of a company. She took her cigarette out of her mouth, looking up at the sky for a few seconds before trying her best.
“Shit man, I got no clue what I can even say about that. It’s fucked, that’s for sure. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of that. Might mean nothing coming from someone you just met but, dude, you deserve better.”
“I…thanks. Thanks, that actually really helps. Haven’t heard anyone say that in a long time.”
A shudder went through Kiara upon reflecting on the words she heard. Her first reaction had been to react spiteful, point out how useless the answer had been but in truth, it had hit her directly at the source of her hurt. No one gave a shit about her, barely anyone ever had. Of course, her Mom loved her and she loved her back but outside of that, she had always fended for herself, struggled through school and work, through classes and the move to Japan. No one had stopped to offer her help or even just an open ear, listening to her problems or worries, yet this complete stranger had done exactly that, even if unprompted and rather than walk off, she had shown understanding.
The relatively tender moment was broken up by the gentle ringing of a basic phone alarm in Calliope’s pocket, informing her that her breaktime was ending and she would be expected back at her desk in a couple of minutes. Without even looking at the screen, she simply thumbed the lock button on the side of her case to shut off the alarm and took one last drag on her cigarette before stomping it out on the ground, a motion she had learned well through repeating it dozens of times up here on the roof. Most of the buds littering the floor were most likely hers.
“Seems break time is over.”
“Oh, do you really have to go already?”
Kiara sounded almost disappointed or hesitant of letting Calliope go after having received the first words of care or interest in her wellbeing from someone other than her mother in years. She knew it was humiliating to want to keep an almost complete stranger with her simply because she was shown a shred of care but in her current state, the raw emotional side of her body won over the more shame driven, logical part of her brain.
“Sorry to say but yeah.”
“Guess that’s it then.”
Calliope pushed herself off of the railing to stand back up straight, stretching her back once or twice to let her joints pop and return to a more work appropriate mindset. Though she lingered around for longer than she normally would. Under normal circumstances, she would already be halfway down the stairs and toward her desk, but the other woman seemed so vulnerable at the moment she was seriously hesitant of leaving her all by herself.
“Hey, you gonna be okay?”
“Me? Yeah, sure. Though thanks for asking, Calliope.”
“Well, if you say so.”
She was not entirely satisfied with the answer she received but felt unable to dig any deeper. Time would become an issue if she loitered around on the roof for another couple of minutes and she wanted to avoid having to explain to her supervisor why she had been absent for so long. Furthermore, they were still technically strangers and poking her nose in a stranger’s business was a sure-fire way of making herself unpopular.
As such, she raised one hand in a lazy goodbye before walking toward the door that would lead to the stairway down into the building. About halfway there, Kiara suddenly called out her name and speedily walked up to the other woman with a conflicted expression. Before explaining herself or the cause for stopping her, Kiara suddenly threw her arms around Calliope in a hug, squeezing for just a moment before immediately stepping back with a slight blush on her cheeks, knowing the action had crossed several boundaries but having been unable to stop herself.
“Just wanted to say thank you again. And sorry. For just dumping all of that shit on you. And for the hug. As you said, been a rough day.”
“Uh, yeah sure, no problem. We’ve all been there. Take care of yourself, Kiara.”
Calliope felt awkward, having frozen up upon receiving the hug and now wishing she had either pushed her away or returned the short hug rather than just do nothing. The simple physical contact of having hugged someone or rather, having been hugged by someone had felt so strange, her last time feeling such physical contact with another person having been almost three years ago. Something that showed her she truly had lost touch with the very physical contact focused type of person she used to be back home.
Rather than allow herself to brood on it for too much longer, she spun around again and closed the distance between herself and the door, pushing on the handle before pulling the door back toward herself and opening her escape path from the awkward situation. Yet again, her name was called out and she turned around, trying to ready herself for another physical touch that might follow though none of the sort actually happened as Kiara still stood where she had left her by her lonesome, one hand reached out toward her but now letting it hover in the air uncertainly.
“Hope to see you around, Calliope. Like, up here maybe. Or wherever. It was just nice meeting you.”
“I usually come up here during my breaks around the same time.”
“Oh, that’s nice! Then I’ll make it up to you next time.”
Calliope had revealed her semi-secret spot for her breaks without really thinking about it, too surprised and still caught up in the surprise of the hug that she had no way but to answer honestly to the inquiry. The promise of making it up to her surely meant that Kiara would return soon, something that was both oddly pleasing but also terrifying to Calliope who had yet to decide if that would be a good or a bad thing.
This woman had so far mainly ranted at her about her unsatisfying life, leeched a smoke off her and had touched her without asking. Yet, this had been the most interesting situation she had been in for months in her otherwise dull and routine life. It also helped that she was pretty cute underneath all that anger and hurt, not that she would say it out loud. The poor woman was dealing with enough unwanted attention as it was.
Rather than risk any further awkward and prolonged goodbye, Calliope disappeared through the doorway and into the stairwell, descending down several flights of stairs to get back to her floor while replaying the moment of the hug in her mind over and over. Arms around her, squeezing gently, brown hair close to her nose, smelling faintly off some sort of flower she was unable to place, kind words of gratitude directed toward her in a tone she had not heard in a long while. Perhaps she should tell her one friend in the office about it later. Maybe this story would make her seem less dull in Gura’s eyes if she finally had something to talk about that was not work or rent related.