by Kira
She sits alone in the nearly empty restaurant. The flame of the candle burning in the
center of the table flickers and catches her delicate features, from the deep, crimson
lips; to the high, lightly tinged pink cheekbones, accentuated by a small
amount of blush. Thick, dark eyelashes
are near veiled over wine eyes. Cheery
blonde hair brushes her shoulders in a mass amount of curls. Her hands are laced together beneath her
chin as she leans forward against them, her eyes watching the flame as it
teeters dangerously close to extinguishing itself. A light touch to it with the tip of her colored nail causes the
flame to grow stronger and less awkward in its growth, like a child taking its
first steps.
It has been many years since she has spent the occasion
this day happens to be with another person.
She has her friends, of course, but something so simple as today doesn't
seem to be anything worth celebrating.
Besides, each of them has their own affairs and she herself has never
thought today was worth troubling anyone.
Each year she treats herself to a lovely dessert at this particular
restaurant with a glass of wine and nothing more. Throughout her childhood it was never a day that was greatly
looked upon, only recognized by a kiss on the cheek and a wish of a good day
from her mother and perhaps something special for the evening meal. It's why she didn't think there is anything
very special about this day.
Today is only a birthday, after all.
Though as she thinks about it, this night could be the
very last she will ever have, if the tides turn in the favor of the other
side. There would be no more beautiful
Earth for things such as holidays to be celebrated and no one alive to do the
celebrating. But she doesn't mind to be
alone. As much as she enjoys being
around others, there were moments that even she realizes there was a time to
remain in solitude. She doesn't intend
to make a habit of it, but tonight, of all nights, she thinks it would be
better to be alone. Her birthday makes
her oddly nostalgic for some reason.
She wrote a letter today while in her own apartment in
Shinjuku. She isn't sure why. The sudden need to had propelled her to pick
up a pen and begin writing. The letter
was addressed to no one in particular and seemed more like a diary entry when
she was done. She hated diaries. It was as though it was expected for young
girls to write down the good things that happened to them in their journals,
but not every day was a good day. She
doesn't know why anyone would want to write about an awful day. Still, bad things happened, as well as the
things people want to forget about.
Sometimes she misses her mother on this day, the only day
that woman ever seemed to smile, though it was more for her own sake than it
being something she had meant. Her
childhood memories are not pleasant.
Fear was nearly the only emotion her mother showed her, fear of what her
daughter could do. She supposes it was
scary. For your only daughter to be
able to light things on fire with her own body, that was frightening. But she doesn't think that was a valid
reason to hurt that daughter. Physical
abuse would not solve any of those problems.
Her mother had never been a strong person. She was easily frightened and wanted to run
away from the odd abilities her daughter possessed, the abilities she passed
off as a supernatural phenomenon.
Still, children with spontaneous combustion abilities, that _was_ a bit
frightening. She wonders if she would
have believed such a thing did she not have the gift, or curse, however someone
preferred to call it. It was not
something she imagines has a use. If
someone wants to light a cigarette, they have a lighter. If they want to cook something, there is an
oven to do it for them. In this world,
fires could be lit without use of the mind.
She wonders why then, does she have such powers. And recently she learned it was for the sake
of the Earth.
She had laughed. It
seemed bizarre, an extremely far-fetched scenario. And what was more, being a Soapland girl, whatever future was
preordained for the world didn't seem like anything that was her concern. Why she should want to protect a world that
had shown her nothing but misery failed to appeal to her, either. But then she had met a boy with the weight
of the world on his shoulders, and a kind gentleman fighting because he wanted
to protect the place his wife and daughter lived, and she had felt that there was
a reason to protect this beautiful Earth.
Her mother committed suicide when she was a child. She thought her daughter was a demon, due to
her abilities of spontaneous combustion.
Without knowing her father or any other family members, she was orphaned
in the city of Tokyo. She could not stay
in one place. People from religious
groups learned of her abilities and tried to hunt her down. It was during this time she discovered the
Soapland and took up a job there. No
one asked very much about your past in such an occupation. She would be safe, not a worry in the world.
She wasn't unhappy anymore. There were many people in the world that were unhappy, with worse
lives than she had. That poor boy with
the weight of the world on his shoulders, for example, who had lost his mother
and dear childhood friends. She
wouldn't feel sorry for herself when others had more pain than she did,
especially not after what someone had told her. That kind gentleman, protecting his family, had said that her
life was precious. Why his words
affected her so much, she doesn't know, but she wants to believe him.
A voice reaches her; soft-spoken and coming from the
shadows near the pay phones outside of the restaurant's restrooms. The familiarity of it causes her to lift her
chin from her hands and glance over her shoulder, where she can dimly make out
the form of a white-clad man leaning against one of the pay phones, the
receiver to his ear and lips moving.
She can't catch any of what he was saying into the phone, but it seems
his conversation is complete in any case, as he is removing the receiver from
his ear and settling it into his cradle.
His sigh reaches her, and then, footsteps drawing nearer to her own
table.
"Kasumi-san."
He sounds surprised as he catches sight of her through the
corner of his eye. Remaining
inconspicuous seeming pointless now, she lifts her head, offering the older man
a smile and small wave. Theirs was not
a close relationship. They had, after
all, met on the battlefield. It really
was a shame, too; she thinks she could find herself liking this particular man.
"Hello, Kigai-san," she returns politely. She gestures to the vacant seat across from
her. "Join me?"
Reaching up to brush away a rebellious strand of blonde,
he seems unsure about taking her up on the offer. She cannot blame him for being uncomfortable. They are supposed to be enemies, he from the
side that wants the destruction of this world and she for the side that wants
to preserve this Earth for the beauty it truly was. Or perhaps he is more concerned about whether or not one of his
comrades might happen upon him dining with one of the enemy. His 'kamui' hardly seems the kind that would
take it lightly.
"I think I shall," he decides finally.
She smiles her usual friendly smile at him as he pulls out
the chair and seats himself comfortably.
One slender finger traces the rim of her wine glass as she takes in the
image of her newfound companion. He is
certainly handsome, from his expressive brown eyes to the dimples that appear
in his cheeks when he smiles. The aura
of a businessman clings to him well, from his classy attire to the simple
manner he holds himself. She wonders
how she looks in comparison, as a Soapland girl clad in her usual revealing
garments. It doesn't seem possible for
her to be able to present the sort of aura he does.
"It's a surprise to see you here alone," he comments. "A beautiful young woman such as yourself .
. . one would think you would have all the men here flocking over to buy you a
drink."
Amused, she laughs softly. "I shouldn't think I would take them up on the offer. Today is a day I like to spend alone."
As she was the one to invite him to sit, he sees no need
in asking if he is intruding upon her solitude. It is nearing midnight in any case. Her birthday will soon be over and she is over the need to be
alone. That, and she doubts there would
be another moment like this one she can spend with this man. The next time they meet, it could very well
be as enemies attempting to kill one another.
But for the rest of the evening, she wants to forget all of those
affairs. It isn't a very cheerful thing
worth discussing.
"Is today a special day?" he asks.
"My birthday."
One slender blonde eyebrow rises. "Oh, is it?
Happy birthday, Kasumi-san."
She laughs.
"Aren't you going to ask how old I am?"
"A gentleman never asks a woman her age."
She smiles softly.
He's right; a rude man would have asked her age. She is not ashamed of growing older as some women
are, believing it made them less desirable, but she does appreciate that he has
the manners not to ask. Someone like
the monk from Osoka, for example, would have asked her age. Though she doubts he would have meant it to
be rude, either. Sometimes he simply
doesn't realize what he is saying before it's too late. It was what earned him the lack of favor
from the priestess in their happy family.
"It's an odd coincidence," he begins, "since today is the
birthday of my sister."
"Is that so? Have
you wished her a happy birthday?"
A faint smile appears on his face. "I did, when I was at her grave today." He waves a hand dismissively before she can
reply. "You didn't know. There's no need to apologize. But tell me, why do you want to be
alone? I'd think your comrades would be
more than happy to celebrate your birthday with you."
"I have always spent my birthday alone, since my mother
passed away. It feels weird to be with
anyone."
As all of the waiters seem to be cleaning up for the
evening and not bothering to see if there was anything more she and her
companion would need, she offers her wine glass to him. He accepts it, his fair-colored fingers
brushing against her darker ones as he grips the stem of the glass. His lips settle over the rim and he takes a
generous amount before setting it down.
She smiles and drinks after him.
"Tonight could be your last birthday," he says slowly.
"I think you read my mind, Kigai-san," she laughs. "That is the very thing I was thinking
earlier this evening. Still, I didn't
want to be with anyone tonight."
She reaches across the table and gently takes his hand,
pulling it across the table and into the light the candle gives them. The glass on his watch reflects the flame's
light.
"It's past midnight now," she says, releasing of his
hand. "So I think it's alright for me
to be with someone."
He smiles. "I'm
glad you chose me."
Again she laughs, her tone light and unusually cheerful
despite everything. "I'm glad,
too. Not only are you a gentleman, but
also you're good-looking."
"You flatter me.
I'm nothing special."
"Liar."
He falls silent at this, knowing that she is right in
saying so. He tries to present himself
as nothing more than an ordinary person, as he is fond of telling people, but
it almost as though people can sense evil.
Normal is far from what he will ever be. Normalcy is reserved for the people that have no knowledge of
what he and his lady companion are involved in. Sometimes, he wonders if he should be happier in knowing that the
world could end very soon, or would he been happier to not know a thing. Obliviousness doesn't seem so bad in the
long run.
"I'm only an ordinary public official, Kasumi-san," he
replies after a moment. He smiles
again.
"Life would be much easier if that were true, wouldn't
it?" she asks softly. "I wonder if
people would think better of me if I could say something like that. But if you tell someone you're an ordinary
Soapland girl . . . if it's a guy he asks for your card. Women give you nasty looks. I can't even do that much."
"It wouldn't be life if it were easy." He sighs.
"I think it would be better to be more concerned about things like that,
than things like 'am I going to die tomorrow?'
If the world ends . . ."
"Let's not talk about that," she interrupts. "For one night, I want to forget it all."
She doesn't think it will ever go away. The thought will always linger in the back
of their minds in any situation. They
will never have any sense of normalcy.
She wonders if any of them were meant to have 'normal lives.' He is right when he says it would be easier
to worry about the small things, when their largest concern is the fate of the
world. She doesn't know if she would be
happy with such a mediocre life, though.
She doesn't even know if she prefers this life to a mediocre one.
What she knows is that she wants to be able to try this
'normalcy' thing.
And she knows she is happy to spend it with him.
For one night, this night . . .
