Metallic
by Autumn Win-dow
She curled up in a corner of the room, her chin leaning on her knees. At this point, she had memorised every single detail of the poorly lit room, and whenever her eyes out flicker, she would correctly expect to see something.
Such as a hoof shaped crack near the door.
Chalk remains in the corner opposite where she sat.
Bite marks on the bed's frame.
Blood stains on the floor's concrete centre.
The woman's hair, having used to be a healthy seaweed green reaching her shoulders, had grown to her waist, now barely a dull colour under the light of the moon seeping through the high window. Her once manicured, shiny nails were now trimmed and blunt, and the brightness her eyes used to emanate years ago had considerably dimmed, because in truth, there was nothing in which she felt hopeful for anymore.
Her new roommate, a woman with ashy hair approximately the same age as she, stared at her curiously.
"Why are you curled up there? You should go to sleep. It's freezing."
She raised her head, and with a bitter sigh, muttered, "I'm not tired. And I've been living in this cold for years, so it doesn't really bother me. You'll understand after I leave."
The ashy haired woman arched her eyebrow. "When will that be?"
"Tomorrow." A blunt reply escaped her lips.
"Oh," the woman sitting comfortably as she could on the bed whispers, "that's a shame, because we just met-"
"It's a shame for you. I'm thrilled to get out of here, and as I said, you'll understand soon enough," the green haired female let her head lean on the chalky wall, as she asked, "what's your name?"
"Wakako."
"Sumire." A faint smile appeared on her lips as she spoke her name. "What did you do to get here?"
Wakako's lips pressed together in a line, as she looked down at her hands. "I… shot someone. My fiancé."
Sumire did not seem surprised at her confession, as her smile remained—a dead look in her eyes. "Really? With what?"
"A… knife."
The woman in the corner huffed, as she continued. "Was it just you, or was someone else involved in the affair?"
Wakako glanced up immediately, a terrified expression on her face. "There was no affair!"
"I meant affair as in the crime, but it seems there was something else on your mind." Sumire nonchalantly commented, as the other woman's hand rapidly moves to her mouth. "So, was the affair on your part, or his?"
"O-Of course it was him, why would I have killed him, otherwise?" Wakako's hands were clutching the sheets.
"Guessing from the bruises on your legs and wrists, he was probably a domestically and sexually violent lover." The green haired woman pointed out, as Wakako reflexively reached for something above her wrists—nothing. "And it seems that you're used to covering the bruises, but unfortunately, you're wearing short sleeves for the first time in a while."
"H-How do you know that?"
"Your hands are considerably more tanned than the rest of your arms… am I right?"
Wakako opened her mouth to refute, but no sound came out. After a moment, she complied. "Yes, it's true… but I still killed him."
"You're lying."
"I'm not-"
"You said that you shot him, yet you replied to my question about what you used to kill him with a 'knife'," Sumire scoffed, "were you like this with the police? Because they should've picked up on something like this if they were actually good at their job. If they had done their job, you wouldn't be here, listening to a prisoner deciphering what they hadn't."
Wakako froze as her roommate turned her head, staring bitterly at the door. "Assholes. Saving guilty lives in exchange for innocent ones. This is an idiotic system."
"But, Sumire," the ashen haired woman muttered, "how did you figure it out?"
Sumire suddenly laughed bitterly, as she responded, "It's ironic, because every other roommate I've had during my time here asked me the same thing. They were all innocent."
"…Are you innocent?"
"If I had a lawyer, they'd see me as such. But I'm just like you—I'm not innocent to the police, or the public, or…" She pauses in her words, but only briefly, "…to my friends."
It was then when Wakako stood up from the bed and sat herself on the cold ground beside her roommate. She placed a land on the latter's shoulder, and asked, "I'm not asking what they think, Sumire. I'm asking about what you think. Were these years of you sitting in this freezing jail cell rightfully enforced?"
Sumire clicked her tongue. "I have a pretty good knowledge of the legal system, but that's one question I can't answer. Because it doesn't matter, I can't be proven innocent anymore. Even if I'm innocent, I'll still be out of here tomorrow."
"Then," Wakako was worried, but she pushed on nonetheless, "what did you do to be here? At least tell me that."
A silence ensued, before she was able to reply with a solemn, "I'm in here because my parents died. Because I wasn't a good daughter to them. I wasn't a good person. I was a traitor to them, as well as all of the acquaintances I've made-"
"Friends, Sumire."
"What?"
"Don't call them acquaintances," Wakako repeated, "if they were acquaintances, you wouldn't be a traitor."
The green haired woman sighed, "Fine, friends. Either way, they've lost hope in me to the point where not a single person has visited."
"…Were you expecting anyone in particular?"
"Of course not," Sumire murmured, "didn't you hear me before?"
"Surely, you've been in love with someone." Wakako said, "I can tell if someone's eyes portray a person heartbroken or longing for someone-"
The woman stood up from her corner, "this is a waste of time," she spat as she climbed into her bunk.
Wakako could only smile at her roommate's reluctance to admit such facts, but was also saddened at how hard being in jail had hit her.
"Sumire-"
"What is it?" She snapped. "I'm tired."
The ashen haired female stood from her position on the floor, and breathed, "I know you were innocent. You never explicitly mentioned killing your parents, just that they died. I guess your detective abilities rubbed off on me, huh?"
Sumire faced the wall, unwilling to respond.
At last, the cold rings around her wrists were released, as she stood with a pair of policemen at the front of the station. Prior to her release, Sumire had her hair cut back to its original length, a female officer had kindly—and strangely—lent her some business attire to wear.
"That's it, Miss Shouda," one of the officers said behind her, "you're off to live your life and go to work as responsibly as you please."
She scoffed as their words, not turning around, "Well, it's obvious I can't do that. I used to work here, after all."
The two officers looked at each other in disbelief, as she confirmed their suspicions. "Yes, I was an officer here. And let me tell you that you've convicted quite a number of innocent people these ten years."
She did not turn to see their response.
"Well, I guess this is it. I'm finally out of this hell hole, and I won't have to see the same sky blue and navy ensemble ever again." Sumire sighed as she was about to take her first step towards freedom.
However, she was disrupted in her steps by a police car driving up the lane.
"I bet it's another unfortunate bastard," she muttered under her breath as she watched the officers exit the car and escort the man in the back into the building.
As Sumire was about to leave the matter aside and walk around the police car, she was soon face to face with who she had least expected to exit, handcuffs chained on his wrists.
"Koko?" Her eyes widened at the sight of the man of her past. "W-What are you doing here?"
The sandy haired male was also shocked by their sudden encounter. "Sumire... I'm sorry I wasn't able to visit you during your-"
The anger she had repressed during her time in jail was finally starting to emerge, as she burst out, "Save it, because you didn't. I missed you, I could practically feel my life being drawn out in the goddamn place, and where were you?"
She could feel her tears prickling her eyes, as the officers at Koko's side ushered him forward with a few annoyed remarks.
"Forgive me." Sumire heard him whisper as he walked past her, into the station.
There was a brief moment of silence as choked back tears before she turned to the officers still at her side. Anger was quickly placed with confusion and terror. "Why is he being arrested?"
"For several murders ranging from ten years ago, of those apparently involved in the Gold Snake movement-"
As the information began to sink in to her brain, the tears were no longer able to be repressed—as they flowed out of her eyes relentlessly, she turned and ran back into the station.
"Koko!"
He, with the officers at his side, turned around, and all it took to break her heart was the guilty expression on his face. As soon as she was close enough, she reached for his face and gave him a passionate kiss.
Sumire's fingers trembled, but they did not let go of his face. She could feel him trembling beneath her as he kissed her back with equal passion.
Their kisses were salty.
"I'm sorry, Koko," she whimpered after breaking away from the kiss, "I'm sorry I didn't believe in you, you idiot."
"You thought I was joking back then, when I'd said that I would avenge you. You don't have enough faith in me, Sumire." Koko joked, though saddened by the tragedy of their moment, as he was forced away from her.
The officers were behind her on guard if she were to dash forward again, but she did not move.
As soon as the bell rang, she dropped her phone and ran to the door. She swung it open to see Koko, drenched in the rain, and she immediately wrapped her arms around his torso tightly. Her tears mingled with the water soaked in his shirt.
Sumire felt a comforting hand on her back as she sobbed.
"They're going to kill my parents, Koko!" She shook her head in denial, "Why did they have to get involved in opposing this stupid movement?"
"We won't let them do it," Koko comforted her, but his voice trembled all the same, "I won't let them do it. We're going to stop them."
"Stop joking, Koko. They're going to frame me for it, I just know it!"
"They're not going to, Sumire." He forced through gritted teeth as he held onto her tighter, "Because if they do, I swear I'll track every single member down and make them wish they never were involved."