GRAVITY | Chapter 02: "Buzzer"

There comes a point in any relationship in which words cease to matter. You look at your precious person in the eye, but you don't say a word, because they already know what you're going to say. Words are unnecessary. They're extra baggage, and that's it.

But I mean, like, words are still pretty fucking useful even once you've gotten to that point, so you won't see me not using them.

"Jackie," I said to my best friend, "it's happening again."

Jackie looked up at me sharply, because she knew exactly what "it" was. Her blue-and-brown hair swung forward to cover one gray eye, mouth drawing into a thin line, lipstick poised in front of her face. The hand braced on the sink in front of her tightened into a hard fist, obscuring the turquoise nail polish she had lacquered on the night before.

We were at school, in the second-story women's restroom. Jackie's parents didn't allow her to wear make-up, but that didn't stop her. Every morning we met in the bathroom and got ready for school together. As two gaijn (well, one hāfu and one gaijin) with multicolored hair, we drew enough attention on the Japanese commuter train as it was, even without our punk-rock liner and lipstick. This day was no different from the others. We'd headed to the bathroom for our daily communal makeover like usual.

Too bad my little proclamation was anything but usual.

"You mean you're getting the creepy feeling?" she asked. I nodded and leaned on the closed stall door behind her, staring off into space. I felt her eyes train on me in the mirror. "How long has it been going on?"

"Since last night," I grunted, closing my eyes. My feet scuffed the tile flooring, echoing in the empty lavatory. "I thought it would go away after a while, but…"

I shrugged. I heard a popping noise—presumably Jackie snapping the cap back onto her unused lipstick—and opened my eyes again. Jackie stared at me, obviously concerned.

"Is it the watching feeling or the creepy one?" she intoned.

"The watching one."

Jackie swore, more colorfully even than her striped hair.

I shrugged again. "No biggie." I laughed a little, but her frown only seemed to deepen. "I just thought I'd give you a heads up—after what happened last time, I can't be too careful."

"Damn straight." Jackie turned back to the mirror, uncapped her blood-red lipstick, and applied it to her lower lip—but then she stopped, leaving her upper lip bare. I had to suppress a giggle.

"I'll walk you home today," she said, smoky eyes smoldering.

Again, I shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"But Mir—"

"Jackie." I said it a bit more sharply than intended. "I'll be fine. Seriously. I took that self-defense course, remember?"

Though Jackie's face remained morose, she decided not to press the matter further. She finished applying her lipstick and started on her eye makeup. I stood silently, watching as she completed her morning routine.

"I'm not going to class today," I informed her as she put away her makeup. "I'm gonna play hooky."

"Again?" Jackie said.

"Mm-hmm. It's really hard to concentrate with this thing nagging at me."

Jackie nodded sagely. "I get it. I'll vouch for you."

"Thanks."

"Where will you be?" she asked.

I jerked my head toward the handicapped stall at the far end of the bathroom. In this bathroom, the handicapped stall had a window just large enough for me to squeeze through. Outside of the window stood a gingko tree with thick branches and few leaves; great for climbing. It reached straight up to the roof and overhung it enough to provide a splotch of shade just big enough for me to nap in. I liked that place the most. It was close to the sky and a perfect spot for reflection, meditation, and naps. Delicious, delicious naps.

Unluckily, however, Jackie could not follow me up there. Her hips were too wide to fit through the window. Actually, most people couldn't fit, but I was a small person so it didn't matter. Most people wouldn't be able to climb the tree, either, but I was, and am, one hell of a climber. Heights just feel natural to me, for whatever reason.

"Want me to bring you lunch?" Jackie asked. I grinned and nodded.

Just then the bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. Jackie hefted her backpack to her shoulder, then waved two fingers at me. Her way of bidding me fare-the-well.

"See you at noon."

"You know where to find me."

I watched as she left, then turned and picked up my own black messenger bag. I headed over to the last stall and locked it behind me; if I didn't do this, somebody might shut the window behind me, cutting off my only way back into the school. Sure, Jackie would let me back in at the end of the day, but if I had to use the bathroom at some point I would rather it be in a toilet, not the rain gutter. Talk about undignified.

I popped open the window and pushed my bag out, shoving it snuggly into a fork of the tree. I soon followed, heaving myself up via the top window ledge so I exited feet first. I'd done it so many times that way my arms had developed a nice layer of muscle. Playing hooky, it seems, has its perks (mainly ones in the aerobics' department; my grades' benefits are another story).

After I levered myself out and got settled on a bough, I located my bag and slung it across my shoulders, then positioned the thing comfortably on my right hip. With that out of the way, my hands were free to climb. I clambered up the tree like a monkey and hopped down onto the black roof. The shingles had been nicely roughened, whether by design or the force of the weather I couldn't say, and provided me with good purchase. I sat down in my patch of shade, bag beside me, and looked out on the world below. My spot overlooked the school courtyard, where most of the student's ate lunch and had P.E. The same tree I had climbed earlier, however, obscured me, so it was nearly impossible to be spotted. The sky above was pale blue, spotted with puffs of innocent looking cloud. I leaned back against the slate of the roof, pillowed my head on my book-bag, and closed my eyes.

My thoughts drifted as I lay there, but the feeling of being watched still grated on my nerves. I tried to tune it out, but to no avail.

It felt just like the last time.

Last year, this same feeling settled down on me for almost two months, gnawing like an infected tooth—and then he'd struck. Tried to force me into the back of a van, and only thanks to the intervention of a passing police officer did I escape. When the police investigated the man's home, they found surveillance equipment and photos of me plastered all over his house. I had been stalked and nearly kidnapped by a fucking psycho.

And my gut had known all along.

Listen to your gut, says I.

I'd had gut feelings ever since I was a child. Just small things, usually, ones I largely ignored until Mister Psycho showed me how valuable those feelings are. I could usually tell when people were lying, and I could always tell when someone approached me—even from my blind spots. Useful stuff, though nothing special.

I opened my eyes and stared up at the leaves above me. They looked slightly grayish as they rustled in the wind, their green masked by the shadow created by the tree…

Apparently I dozed off, because I awoke to Jackie's shouts of, "I have pizza, you monkey. Get down here!"

I left my bag on the roof, scampered down the tree, and took the pizza through the window. I ate while sitting in the tree; Jackie leaned on the windowsill so we could talk. She had locked the stall behind her so no one would walk in.

After we ate, I climbed back up to my perch.

Again, I slept.

This sleep, however, was unlike the first. During this bout of unconsciousness, I dreamed.

I couldn't remember exactly what about when I came to, but I could vaguely recall people flying. Objects, too. And the strangest part of all was the large purple eye, watching my every move, hovering above like a violet moon.

Creepy, I thought, shivering.

But it was almost time to leave school, a glance at my watch revealed, so I put it out of my head. Sure enough, moments later I heard Jackie's voice floating up from below me. I eagerly climbed down and met her, and then together we exited the school. The route to both my house and Jackie's followed the same path for awhile before turning in different directions. We chatted all the way, but before I could bid her goodbye at the diverging point, Jackie stopped me.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you the rest of the way?" she asked, voice and eyes steely with concern.

I grinned at her. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

She still didn't look convinced, so I mock-punched her in the jaw gently. She laughed despite herself.

"I can take care of myself. After all, what were all of those self-defense lessons for if not to protect myself?" After the whole stalker incident, I had enrolled in a combination kick-boxing/martial art/defense class for teens. "I can kick ass and you know it, Jack."

Jackie smiled. "You'll be sure to keep your cell phone on just in case though, right?"

I nodded. She looked relieved, if only slightly. We then said our goodbyes, and I was forced several more times to promise to be careful. Once I had satisfied Jackie, I went on my way.

I really hope this just fades away, I thought as I strode off. I kept my eyes fixated on the pavement. Maybe I should check to see if that one creep got out of prison or something…

I was so wrapped up in my thoughts (and flashbacks of the man in the ski mask, that man who'd tried to kidnap me, who still haunted my dreams like a persistent ghost even after all this time had passed) that I did not notice the boy until I crashed straight into him. My feet went out from under me like I'd been kicked in the shins; I went down with a cry, landing hard on my ass.

"Are you all right?" a smooth voice said, concerned.

I looked up, squinting. At first I thought he was a girl, but then I realized that he was simply...well, effeminate. And once I figured out that, I also realized that he was actually one of the most beautiful boys I had ever seen. Like, ever. He had long, shiny red hair, green eyes one could simply drown in, and skin so pale and smooth he would make a model jealous. And god, that hair! So vivid and natural even though it clearly wasn't. Get me the name of his stylist and hair dye brand, stat. The only thing that was really wrong with him was that he was wearing a pink school uniform. He might have been beautiful, but I wasn't attracted to him at all; he was just way too girly.

"I was until you decided to drop out of the sky," I said, glaring up at him.

His congenial smile faltered, but he covered by offering me his hand. I ignored it and clambered to my feet without his help, then looked down at my clothing and brushed myself off. Despite my attitude, my heart was pounding.

I didn't sense him coming, I thought with a touch of panic. I can still feel the watching feeling, but—I guess I was just too preoccupied with THAT to notice HIM.

I looked at him again. He was staring at me, which weirded me out, but I realized after a moment that the gut feeling was originating from elsewhere. This pretty boy was not the watcher.

"What?" I asked.

He smiled politely, but did not say anything. I huffed and pushed past him, because fuck that noise, I didn't have time for this.

I stopped dead in my tracks, however, when I heard him call out after me.

"What is your hurry, Miranda-san?"

For a second I thought I had misheard him. Then, when it sunk in that I hadn't, I wheeled around, heart thudding sporadically as adrenaline and fear coursed through me. All at once my psychic alarms started buzzing like a swarm of bees, going off like sirens in my head. My eyes roved across the spot where he had been standing, but—

Nothing.

The effeminate red-head—the boy who had somehow known my name—had vanished.

AUTHOR TIME

Well THAT'S a creepy way to introduce yourself, Kurama. Would love to hear your feedback if you're reading, and I hope you enjoyed!