First Movement: Midnight Sonata
She shuffled down the aisle, shoes flopping on and off with each step, a stack of novels in hand, earphones blaring. The undulating hues of streetlights poured into the shop. 11:50 p.m. Closing time was only ten minutes away now and while overtime was not a habit of hers, as of late it seemed as though it might become one. She was unaware of the two strangers loitering outside her store, wrapped in friendly conversation. She paused in her lazy shuffle, adjusting the neck of her sweater, taking a Stephen King novel from a shelf and skimming over the summary. Heel tapping to the beat of Smells like Teen Spirit, she continued arranging the wide array of books, magazines, and anything of the sort in their rightful places. She hummed lightly along to the tune.
Suoh, Mikoto had thought that it was high time that high school friend, Totsuka, Tatara, found a girlfriend. He won't require much help, he had thought, only a gentle push in the right direction. The man was a social butterfly who could play nice with a pit viper if he set his mind to it. However, as Mikoto soon came to remember, the amiable blond was less than competent in the art of flirting. He shook his head in disappointment-always the nice guy. It was a bit sad, not to the Misaki degree (that was always an amazing sight) but sad nonetheless. Izumo's plan had been a flop-a rarity indeed from HOMRA's renowned strategist. However, there was one thing the two of them hadn't planned for. Totsuka, Tatara was a goddamn…
The Red King sighed, breathing out white streams of smoke that curled and twisted in the winter night. He dropped the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe, Tatara's boisterous laughter still ringing out with deafening clarity.
….son of a bitch.
"I'm so sorry, king!" He said between spastic breaths. Tears poured down rosy cheeks due to both the cold and the chuckles that still trembled in his throat. His lungs were burning but it was well worth the pain. He had witnessed a quasi-miracle earlier that day. The way Mikoto's normally impassive face had contorted was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. And unbeknownst to the Red King, it was all caught on camera. If Tatara was ever feeling down, all he needed to do was picture that hilarious scene.
"Bullshit." Mikoto responded in his usual low rumble.
In all honesty, he had been worried when Tatara had gotten into his latest hobby a few weeks ago. Izumo had been the first to notice and alerted his king of his clansman's odd and alarmingly nostalgic behavior. He had reverted to an old habit he had developed in high school. Back in those days, unknown to most other clansmen, the blond ball of charisma had been a gamer…of sorts. A gamer of just one game played lackadaisically on his phone. To this day, Mikoto could remember neither the name of the game nor the reason for Tatara's intense obsession with it.
He had rediscovered the game three weeks ago and the cycle started again. The idea was simple. Get him a girlfriend and he will indubitably quit that soul-warping crap. Mikoto and Izumo devised a plan to set their good friend up on a blind date. Not the best way to meet new people but it would at least get him off that damn phone.
Somewhere along the way Tatara figured out their scheme and had concocted a plan of his own. One that involved setting Mikoto up with a male prostitute. It was quite understandable why he was still laughing.
"No, really!" Tatara insisted, a bit shaky from the oxygen deprivation. "But you shouldn't of tried to set me up."
"You are addicted to that shitty game. It was the best way to get you to stop playing."
"I'm flattered that you and Izumo care so much but there's no need to worry. I beat the game this morning. Deleted the app."
Shops and little boutiques lined the streets and while wiping away the last few stray tears the red clansmen spied a flower shop just across the road from where they stood now.
"Bastard."
He wondered if he should get a bouquet for Anna, maybe brighten up the bar a bit.
Her breaths elongated, long and slow, and astonished eyes did not dare blink for fear that the man they saw, the man they recognized would turn out to be nothing but an exhaustion induced hallucination. She watched him brush away happy tears from his eyes, more than likely from excessive laughter.
The sight of Totsuka, Tatara made her chest ache.
With hands trembling like the vast majority of Shizume citizens who stalked the icy streets, the books stacked in her arms toppled over. Emiko continued to stare absentmindedly, hand at her chest in an attempt to assuage the painful hammering of her heart. She watched as he walked briskly over to her across-the-street neighbor-Yukihana. Go talk to him, her inner voice insisted. It was a chance to reconnect, a chance to clear out murky waters and address any mistakes that were made between either party.
Emiko sighed, reminiscing.
Then, she noticed that her longing gaze had been caught by the stoic red-head. This nearly made her heart stop its furious drumming altogether. He made no indication of caring about the stranger who had been staring at his close friend like some sort of secret admirer, save for a small smirk, before he promptly followed the blonde into the flower shop.
Despite the butterflies in her stomach and the haze that clouded her judgement, Emiko did not go outside. She did not go after him, talk to him, anything. She stayed put in her quaint little shop and resumed arranging her books.
What's done is done, after all. And she wasn't the type to forgive and forget.
Mikoto stepped into the shop, a plethora of sweet aromas filling his lungs. Ah, now he remembered why he had stayed outside. These places were always so confusing to the senses. Sometimes it would be so bad, that one could choke on all of those sickening scents. Thankfully, it did not take long for him to catch sight of his clansmen. He was already at checkout, a large bouquet of red roses in hand. The Red King clapped the blond on the shoulder. Tatara looked confused for a moment.
"I thought you hated flower shops."
With a passion.
"I do."
He gestured for Tatara to follow and he did. If anything, Mikoto was a man of his word and he did promise to get the man a girlfriend. And that is exactly what he was going to do. That woman certainly wasn't staring at him and there had to be a reason for the stupefied look on her face.
"Where're we going?" He asked, the moisture of his breath turning the surrounding air white.
"Bookstore." Mikoto replied curtly.
"Since when did you become a fan of books?"
"Since Stephen King and G.R.R. Martin."
It was warm inside, inviting with the faintest scent of cinnamon wafting through the air. Mikoto went off to search the shelves for a new Stephen King novel to sink his teeth into while Tatara ambled aimlessly about the place, wondering if he might find an interesting read for later.
He would find one, no doubt. Perhaps A Telltale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe. He loved the classics.
But what light brown eyes locked onto diverted all idle thoughts and commanded every ounce of attention he had.
Fukusaku, Emiko is what Tatara found the moment he entered Frostbite Books. He stopped dead in his tracks and gawked with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. The same black hair, the same chocolate brown eyes, the same fragile frame, and the same thin scar that peeked out from her one-size-too-big red turtleneck sweater.
Disregarding the dark discolorations underneath her eyes, Tatara believed she looked rather well.
"Emi?" He spoke tentatively, softly, not necessarily as a direct question but as an uneasy statement.
She didn't look nearly as surprised as he did.
Her visage remained stoic and uncaring.
She honestly felt like hugging him.
Emiko slapped him instead.
Because Tatara Totsuka makes me very happy. A little bit short though.
-K.N.