The first time she met Kano was on a rainy Wednesday, the day she arrived back to the city. Several weeks earlier she had spent the night with her family. She had a troubled family, who rather than working out their internal problems, they chose to cover it with the implications that everything was okay.
And what a lie that was.
Nothing was okay.
They still kept up the image that Kido's father, the head of the household, didn't cheat on his wife every week. The lie that their company wasn't going bankrupt was kept secret so the customers would keep returning. But most of all they kept away hidden the youngest of the household, a small child, the result of her father's mistakes. Tsubomi Kido, was never supposed to be born. Her father made that point quite clear, so did her nonbiological mother, and so did everyone else excluding one.
There were many precautions to keep Tsubomi a secret. "Don't stick out, don't do anything that will bring you any attention." She was told to not exist. She lived her life to be nonexistent. Her existence was only known to the teachers and maids who took care of her. But the only one who chose to acknowledge her presence, was none other than her sister.
Her sister was kind and knowledgeable. Her sister was what she strived to be, strong and helping.
She had always tried to follow in her footsteps, whether it was that her father had seen the elder to be the role model of a young lady or that her sister was simply the person she had loved the most in the world.
Her sister often told of stories outside the mansion where there would be large buildings, shops and schools stood. Kido knew nothing of life outside the mansion other than books, photographs and sometimes radio channels. She liked the music they played the best. Her sister occasionally played songs for her on the piano, one of the joys of Tsubomi's life was hearing her play. Sometimes, her sister would teach her to play. True wonder was when Tsubomi's fingers slid onto the ivory keys and she heard the corresponding note play. Her dream was to play the piano next to her beloved sister and hear their notes mingle together to form a harmonious melody.
But she wasn't allowed to even watch her sister's performances. And so her dream was always far from reach. Her dream was finally shattered when she was caught practicing the piano late at night by a maid.
Sadly, those were one of the happier sides to Tsubomi's life.
When she was about the age of fifteen, their financial situation had gone down the drain. Not to mention, when her sister had gone aboard for a better education, more light was shed on her origin. Her father grew angry and decided she would be sent away to the city so they wouldn't have to deal with such a nuisance she was.
Life with distant relatives was, complicated, but liberating. Those few years she had spent away from the house that had raised her was so different from the rest. Only a handful of people in the city were able to trace her name back to that prison of hers. For a years she was able to make friends (not that she made many), go to school, go shopping and other things girls her age would do. She was able to laugh, smile without consequence and stay out late at night. But more importantly, she was able to exist.
For once she didn't have to stay in the shadows, she could be who she wanted, sing in the choir or play piano in public. Although she didn't care enough for it, she was noticed. She came to make a few friends, Ayano, a kind girl who wore a red scarf and often compared herself and others to be superheroes. Ayano gave her several comic books, ("This one's a limited edition!"). She often talked of her special attacks and how she had the figurines of over 25 superheroes.
She also became friends with Takane, a girl with a medical condition that required her to sleep for many hours. Takane was harsh and seemed a bit aggravating at first, but later Kido learned to warm up to her. But their main connection was with music. She had a wonderful taste in music and often enough, she stayed over at Kido's house to hear her play the piano. A month into their friendship Takane had placed in Kido's hands a copy of her favorite album. "Keep it, you'll love it."
Kido felt spoiled, having such great friends.
But as great things do, they end. And once again the world had collapsed around her. A neatly written letter had arrived for her several months after her third year in high school. She wished it was a dream. A letter from her father that told of the bankruptcy of their company. Loans were being requested and their bank savings were slowly draining. It was calling for her to come back. The reason itself was not stated. It simply said, "We're requesting for our daughter to be returned to her home." Those words left a grotesque taste in her throat. When had she ever been 'their daughter?' Kido didn't want to leave. She had never truly considered that mansion to be her 'home'. But it wasn't her decision.
The day she came home to her father's mansion she was greeted with less servants, a fake hug from her father that gave her shivers and a tense atmosphere. When she entered the building, it felt different, there were less paintings, elaborate decorations and sculptures missing. The grand piano near her room now absent, she felt her old dwelling less welcoming.
She was only grateful to see her sister again, she was the only thing that had remained her family and loved one. She spent all the time she could with her sister, even though Kido was still resented by her family. The tension between her and her family hadn't changed, but her sister's relations with her family had. Her sister was much more stressed, white hair poked from her signature red hair. Kido wanted to be there for her sister, for emotional support. But it never helped her family's internal struggles. Something bad was brewing and sometimes there'd be warnings of an outburst, where Kido's sister would whisper a soft, "Be careful." Other days her sister would tell her to be prepared to leave and to always keep a back hidden where all her valuables were kept. Kido wasn't sure what to expect.
The happier days were past her. She spent her time listening to music that Takane had given her and reading through Ayano's comics, escaping the world that seemed to break down before her. Most days of her life just made her want to disappear. But ignoring problems don't make them go away. Ignoring problems, just like it began with her and her father. If you ignore the leak in the dam, the rest will come falling out. And sometimes lessons are better learned through experience than in books and fairy tales.
The morning the mansion burned down was about two months before she moved back to the town where all of her happy memories lied. Kido remembered waking up in the night before the fire. She remembered feeling tense, the hallways were empty and strangely all the servants had left. That night, her sister and father had a huge argument, Kido had no part of it. Before she went back to sleep, she thought she had smelled gasoline, but she had brushed it off with the thought of sleep.
Only half an hour later, there was a loud banging on her door. She got up with a start to see her sister fully dressed, who yelled at her to get dressed and get her emergency bag. Her sister's tone alarmed her slightly but she was out of her room in a minute. As soon as she had opened the door, the smell of gasoline littered the house. When they entered the first floor of the house, she could hear the sound of fire burning. The front door was toppled over and set aflame, and so was the back door. And so were any of the other doors to the outside.
She remembers running back upstairs to find some kind of ladder with her sister.
She remembers her sister calling 911.
She remembers the hallway where they had come out of being engulfed in flames.
She remembers the ground below them collapsing.
She remembers her and her sister being trapped by the falling ceiling.
She remembers her legs brushing against the flames and how her sister yelled for her to leave.
She remembers how the glass from the window dug into her skin from the drop.
She remembers waking up in the hospital.
She remembers leaving her sister behind.
Present Day
"Did something happen? You were one of the top students in our school. You just suddenly left. I mean, you didn't come back for another year. Did you find a better school? I can completely understand that, I didn't like my school either." Kano went ahead and ran his mouth even though he got little to no response from Kido. Somewhere in the conversation, Ayano had to leave, probably to meet with her boyfriend, Kano had said mockingly.
Kano's mouth seemed to move endlessly despite Kido's obvious glare and how she distanced herself from him, scooting to the far corner of the seat. But eventually his mouth drew to an end. "Hey, are you alright? You haven't really said anything." His words changed from 'saying whatever comes to mind' to 'I'm slightly concerned'.
She was glad that his ranting had ended and she finally had a chance to say something on the lines of 'I don't want to be around you.' Instead, what had come out was, "I'm just tired, I think I'll retire to my apartment."
"Oh, if that's the case, I have the rest of the night off, I can walk you home! It's never fun to walk home alone." Kano had said cheerfully. Kido had groaned.
"Soo..." Kano had followed her slow footsteps in the snow covered sidewalk. "How long have you been here?" He tried to make conversation.
"Not long." She said simply, hoping to lose him in the weather. Kano seemed to catch up fairly quickly, running up to her like a lost puppy.
Something shined in his head, as if he had just got a big idea. "Oh yeah! You know I heard you were pretty wealthy, do you live in a mansion or something?"
Kido gave him a glare but Kano had pretended not to notice. "I, used to."
"Oh-" Kano's mouth stopped moving for a moment. "Why did you move?" Kano kept his eyes on her face, waiting for a response. "Tired of the luxury life?" He added sarcastically, adding a light laugh at the end of his sentence.
Kido hesitated on her answer. Her voice unsteady, growing irritated at his constant questions. Rather than spout off about the truth, she gave an exasperated sigh and said, "I was tired of it."
