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“You know, I thought for sure I would feel something by doing this.” Kafka blurts out, her hand wrapped around her cup of coffee. “Do you know why I brought you here, Oda?” Kafka asks, directing her gaze towards him. Her eyes carried a weary and tired gaze, empty and distant much like her own facial expression. She wore no smile, yet never frowned; while she may be focused on the man in front of her, she could care less about what was happening in the moment. Oda remained silent, thinking over the question Kafka presented before him; she never stays late after her work is done, nor had she ever spent time to get to know anyone else. As far as he’s aware, this is the first time he's seen Kafka interact with her coworkers beyond a working environment, yet she’s remained silent the entire time they’ve been sitting at the table. Not to mention, of all the people in the Port Mafia, he’s the one she’s been avoiding the most, yet lately she’s had little to no qualms over working for or with him within the past few days. Kafka, at her core, is difficult to understand; in part due to her aloof nature, as well as her refusal, or rather inability, to truly speak with others. Oda couldn’t come up with anything, only responding with “No, I don’t.” sipping on his cup of tea, while Kafka sighed dejectedly, turning her eyes away from him before speaking up.
“I’m terrified of you, Sakunosuke.” Oda paused and averted his focus towards Kafka, whose eyes looked more empty than they were before, decorated with a sullen smile. “I’m sorry, but I don’t follow.” Oda responds, placing his cup back onto the table. “I’m terrified of you, Sakunosuke; or rather, the idea of you.” Kafka continues. “I couldn’t handle the thought of seeing you, being around you, working with you, because you terrify me; because you remind me of a fragment of my past that I wanted to leave behind. Simply put, you remind me too much of my own father.” Kafka pauses and sips on her cup of coffee before continuing. “I despise him, I loathe him, and I fear him, all the same way I fear, loathe, and despise you; yet these past few days, haven’t felt the same.” Kafka’s smile slowly started to disappear the more she rambled, matching the empty expression on her face. Oda recognised that facial expression all too well, he slowly began putting the pieces together in his head, finally starting to understand exactly why Kafka wanted to speak to him. “You’re not scared anymore, are you?” he asks, Kafka’s facial expression remaining static as she finally averted her focus back towards him. “In a way, yes. If anything, I wish I still was.” she responds, “It’d be better than feeling nothing at all.” What little light remained in Kafka’s eyes had finally disappeared, as the two sat in silence, their drinks slowly growing colder by the minute.
The ambient sounds of dining utensils clinking against each other, paired with people’s scattered conversations weren’t enough to ease the tension between the two. Kafka couldn’t make out a single word even if she wanted to, and neither could Oda. In the back of her mind, she was hoping this tension would at least knock some sense into her, even the slightest wave of embarrassment was better than the cold, harsh emptiness she was feeling, anything would be better than this. “I thought maybe I could make myself feel whole again if I made myself relive those awful memories, but not even that could work. If anything, it’s nothing more than some twisted, demented form of self-torture.” Kafka reiterates, before letting out a sigh. “What made you think this was the only solution? You always leave early, so I assume you’ve been spending time with your friends. Not to mention it’s been a month since you officially joined, there must’ve been one or two people you’ve gotten close with.” Oda takes a sip from his cup, hoping to be met with a response from her as nothing but silence followed. “I wish that were the case.” Kafka lets out an empty chuckle as Oda froze before placing his empty cup back onto the table. “Nearly everyone I’ve ever worked with, both before and during my time in the Port Mafia, have all been nothing but liars, treating this world as if it were a play and they, actors on the stage.”
“I was hoping this time would at least be a little different, but it feels like I’m reliving my past all over again. Any time I try to interact with someone, they always have ulterior motives for speaking with me.” Kafka lets out another sigh, “It’s always the same thing, day in and day out. It’s all they ever talk about whenever someone brings up my name, it’s the only thing they know about me.” she strengthens her grip on her teacup “I couldn’t even feel that frustration around them, nothing worked; I even tried taking them out for dinner, and I still. Felt. Nothing.” Kafka placed her cup back onto the table, pushing it aside and averting her eyes from Oda. “Those frustrations, the hatred, and fear are so much better than this cold, empty nothing. I’d give anything just to feel that way again.”