Exhaustion is something my body doesn't succumb to easily.
To me, it's like playing a video game, the constant pumping of my muscles is as easy as pushing forward on a joystick. If you think about it, you could put a rock on the controller and consign some pixel-based life-form to an eternity of running.
How morbidly beautiful. But it would make for a boring game.
But running in reality? Not boring at all. Almost liberating. I can see what those jogging enthusiasts are raving about all the time. The sweat, the aching muscles, the oven-hot oxygen pumping in and out of your lungs like a bellows.
Like this I can truly forget everything.
Why would I want to though? I'm not exactly unhappy.
"Fuck! Konata! We're stopping! Holy jeezus!" Kagami rests a feeble hand on my shoulder, wheedling me to a halt. She keeps walking, a labored, panting stride to stave away a stitch we both know she's going to feel in a couple minutes. I trail after her, laughing.
"Come on Kagami, I thought you were going to "take it easy" for me"
"That was *pant* before *pant* I found out you were *wheeze* a friggin' machine"
I laugh again, and encourage her to walk a little faster to keep the pains from getting too bad. Heartened, she keeps it up for a while before stretching her muscles and flopping onto the park grass.
She's been running for miles, the poor girl.
It started out harmlessly enough. An invitation to come jogging. Misao had rolled her eyes when Kagami asked me, waxing sarcastic about how tedious running was: getting up early, the exhaustion, the way Kagami never seemed to get tired. "Ugh," she had grumbled, haunted look on her face, "exhausting."
Needless to say, when I agreed, it was with some reservations.
But it turned out good! Who knew I would be a natural? I got like zero exercise in the hospital and yet here I am, puttering along like the little engine who not only could, but did, and did it awesomely.
At first we jogged at an easy talking pace, she giving me pointers on technique and pacing, how I should breathe and what muscles I should stretch. Concentrated silence eventually draped over us as the workout demanded our attention.
Eyes darting habitually to see me next to her, not tired at all, she kept getting faster and faster. At first the competition burning in her eyes scared me, but it got funny after a while; the disbelief endlessly amusing. To a health-nut like Kagami, this had to rankle some chains.
I matched her step-for-step. Figuratively of course, her legs are much longer than mine. We carried on like this, running around the same park for what must have been an hour.
"You did this to yourself you know"
"Uggghh, I know," her chest rises and falls with every breath, straining against her spandex tank.
The overhang of a tree splays out shade enough for the both of us, but as the morning progresses, the sun creeps slowly up Kagami's legs.
We wear workout clothes, the both of us. She's lying with her eyes closed, catching her breath, and I sit cross-legged above her. This must be the first time in a very long time that I have literally looked down at anyone.
"How are you so athletic?"
I shrug, "Dunno"
"That's not fair"
I laugh, "Sorry"
"Ugh, my legs feel like lead"
"Mmm," I lie down next to her, "my legs feel fine"
She turns her head, one eye inching open to look at me, "You little jerk. Don't say that"
The light reflects off of her camera, slung loosely around her wrist, and inspiration hits me. I snatch it.
"What are you-? Oh no, Konata I'm disgusting right now"
"Come on, just hold still a second," of course she doesn't, writhing her limbs over her body in a bid to cover up. The camera loves her anyway. Struggling like that, she's like a pin-up model, with her blue tank-top and short shorts, sweat making her body gleam like a hentai heroine.
Ugh, did I really just think that?
Enthusiasm slightly diminished, I take a few choice shots anyway.
"Okay, you can't delete these," I say settling down and holding the display over her face. I flip through them, and I can see Kagami grudgingly admit that she looks good, but she grimaces anyway. I laugh at her, "Oh, just accept it. It's done. Your beauty captured for all eternity. Just give me credit for these when you make it big"
She looks at me, unamused. I smile back. And just like that her grimace transforms into a wan smile and she giggles. Her eyes linger, but it doesn't exactly feel like she's looking at me, though I would be hard-pressed to say that she's looking at anything else.
It isn't the first time she's looked at me this way. The other night it kept happening when she thought I wasn't looking, though by now she doesn't seem to care whether I notice or not. How do I feel about it? "Uncomfortable" isn't the right word for it, but it's the first one that comes to mind.
I clear my throat, "Anyway, what do you want to do now?"
"Just let me rest here for a bit, catch my breath," she breathes, the intensity of her look gone. I breathe too, relieved, unaware that I hadn't been breathing, unaware that my heart was beating maybe a tad too fast. I lie down next to her.
We watch several clouds float by. Or I do anyway, her eyes are closed.
Finally: "Hey Konata, what are you doing tomorrow night?"
Nanako's job isn't what I expect it to be.
When she brought me into the building I was a little intimidated by the tinted windows and security check. The lobby was eerie, silent but for the faint sound of classical music emanating from no discernible source. It reeked of creepy professionalism. I half-expected it to be one of those murder hotels like in Hostel.
Thank god, we're not. But they have the look down pat.
We're currently lounging in a hotel room that manages to be lavish without being very big; a room for the non-ostentatiously wealthy. The couch is aged leather, dignified in its vintage antique-shop softness. It feels like I'm sitting on the great depression; the atmosphere intentionally dusty like the set of a Matrix film.
We're propped in front of an old tube television that was probably put there as a stylistic choice. Reruns of Dragon Ball Z are playing.
"Okay, I'm still not entirely sure what it is you do"
Nanako treats me to a soulless glance through impossibly dark sunglasses. She smiles at how uncomfortable they make me, and gestures behind us to a group of young people studiously working at a series of desks.
All of them are busy with a mixture of paper, computer screens, and those digital Photoshop sketch-pads, forming two short columns of illustrators armed with pens, styluses and an assortment of laptops. They flank a desk bigger and more impressive than the rest of them combined at which is seated a young woman staring intently at a computer screen, her hand a blur of activity on a sketch-pad.
Her red-rimmed eyes don't deviate even an inch from the screen. Already this girl scares me.
"I'm Ms. Tamura's bodyguard"
"Tamura's the one with the black hair and the crazy look in her eyes right?"
Even though I was speaking softly, Tamura's eyes track me like a homing missile, "I'm not crazy! My mother had me tested!"
Nanako laughs, "Yup that's her. Though you and I just call her Hiyori"
Hiyori's attention is already diverted back to her work. I lower my voice just a little bit more. "Do we now? Okay, you've probably already explained this before, but indulge me. Why does she need a bodyguard?"
Nanako smiles, "No problem. She needs a bodyguard because she's like, obscenely famous. A couple of years ago she came out with her debut series: The Pencil-Skirt Statute. Weird name right. Yeah, she's weird like that. Anyway, ever since then her work has been astronomically popular. You might be surprised to hear this, but she's actually so popular that she has people stalking her all the time. It got so bad that she had to move both her home and offices into this hotel"
"Jeez"
"But she can't stay copped up in here all the time. So I go with her whenever she needs to leave. I drive her around, I walk her to class, I fire warning shots at insane stalkers; sometimes I actually have to beat people up. Like, with my fists and shit. You wouldn't believe it. Poor kid just got too famous too fast."
We stare at the TV screen, neither of us really watching it.
"How did you end up in this line of work again?" My voice tingles with incredulity.
She shrugs, "I had all the qualifications before I was a teacher. But really it's like any other agency job. I just work for Hiyori now because she thought I looked trustworthy," she gives me a proud thumbs-up, "I'm hand-picked. Pretty cool huh?"
"Honestly, none of what you said is very plausible"
She laughs, "You used to say much the same before the…well, you know, accident"
"Are you calling me predictable?"
"Kind of. I can probably guess what you're thinking right now"
"Really?"
"You're wondering why the hell we're watching the same episodes of Dragon Ball Z over and over again with barely any sound"
I was thinking that. Dammit. "No I'm not"
"Uh-huh"
"Fine. Why are we watching the same episodes of Dragon Ball Z over and over again?"
"I keep the volume low to keep from distracting the artists. They're a temperamental bunch," she doesn't bother to lower her voice, and a few artists sidelong glare at her before resuming their work. "And I watch the same thing so that I don't pay too much attention to it. It helps keep me focused without getting too bored. Sometimes I watch Bollywood movies," she shrugs, "whatever works"
I try to imagine this flippant woman punching a hapless stalker in the face, kicking his knee, snapping his wrist. It's difficult to reconcile this image with the goofy stoner who snuck me out of the hospital not even a few weeks ago. But as I look at her now, sunglasses poised delicately over the bridge of her nose, posture-perfect, a chill whittles its way down my spine. I can still remember the rough protrusion of the pistol through her jacket.
This, I am sure, was not the woman who presided over my homeroom class all those years ago.
Or maybe it was. I can't very well imagine her watching Bollywood movies either.
"Okay! We're done for the day! Everybody go home! Move it! Move it! Move it!"
The cadre of assistants are forced out by a frantic Hiyori (an abuse I suspect they have long grown used to). When the last of them has shuffled out the room, she breathes a sigh of relief, promptly flinging herself on the remaining space of the couch. This means her head lolls on my lap and her feet land with a thud, ankle first, on Nanako's. Nanako's fang protrudes just a tad more whenever she frowns.
Hiyori wriggles to her side, wrapping her arms around my waist.
"Konata, I am a tortured artist," she sighs, eyes lidded dramatically towards the ceiling. I take her familiarity in stride, though her closeness is very uncomfortable.
"Hey you're scaring her"
"What? No I'm not. Am I scaring you Konata, darling?"
Nanako points her fingers to her head, mimicking a gun, "The accident genius. Remember?"
"Oh yeah," but she doesn't let go. "You know I was shot at once too. Granted, I wasn't actually hit, but…still." She rolls onto the floor, sitting cross-legged on the shag carpet and looking up at me, "You don't remember me very well do you?"
"I don't remember you at all, actually"
"Pity, that." She extends her hand, "Hiyori Tamura, artist and mangaka, at your service"
"Ko-"
"Konata Izumi," she interrupts, "I don't have a slug in my head. So I remember you at least. You used to be my biggest fan"
"Oh…I didn't…I didn't stalk you did I?"
"Nah. You wrote me plenty of letters though. Mind you, I liked them. They were the only bits of fan-mail I actually read. Partly because I enjoyed your writing, partly because they didn't have cut up magazine letters for text, or pictures of me with my eyes cut out"
"Oh. Well. That's good then"
"I'm sorry, by the way. For not visiting you in the hospital. I meant to, but, y'know, death threats and all."
"Don't worry about it"
"Good. I'm glad to hear that. I forgot that I was worried about this until just now." She jumps back on the couch, assuming the original position with her head on my lap. "That's a load off my mind. I'm glad we're re-acquainted. I have so few willing cuddle pillows these days. Well, barring the occasional psychopath, but them I don't like"
"You're still making her uncomfortable"
"How can that be true? We're friends again. She said so herself. No take backs!" Nanako sighs. "So what were we talking about before I inserted myself into the conversation?"
Nanako turns off the TV, the image flickering off with an audible pop. "I was just catching Konata up on the details of this whole situation," she gestures back and forth between herself and Hiyori, "and she was waiting to talk to me about something but didn't know how to bring it up"
I glare at her, "And I suppose you know that because I'm so predictable? Maybe I just wanted to hang out"
"Fine, cool," she shrugs, "it's just you play with your hair when you – see, you're doing it now – you play with your hair when you want to talk". Hiyori keeps looking at me with a grating smile; it oozes with expectation, and I know she knows that I'm lying.
"Fine, I came to see you for some advice"
"There we go," Nanako says, turning to look at me, removing her glasses. My discomfort instantly disappears, replaced by a bafflingly sudden sense of security. The room isn't as alien as it was before, rendered cozy as if by the flip of a switch. Even Hiyori's physical contact becomes less the unwelcome familiarity of a stranger, and more the affection of a close friend.
Nanako's shades make her look inhuman. Taking them off eases the mood of the whole world. Muscles I didn't even know were tensed suddenly relax.
"So," Nanako says, suddenly all motherly and warm, "what's up?"
I look around. Nothing's really changed, but the mood shift is still alarming. "How did you do that?"
"Do what?" she asks, innocently shifting her legs onto the couch, smiling in a way that neither suggests nor denies that she knows what I'm talking about.
This is what it must be like to have a confusing older sister. And what it must be like to want to both hug and punch someone at the same time.
"Uh, Never mind," I gather my thoughts, feeling tongue-tied under the gaze of these two women. "I wanted your advice on, well, see there's this girl-"
"Ooh, a girl! Fast worker"
"Shut up!" She smiles at this, "I mean, it's just…let me start over." Kagami, right. "Errm," my voice falters. Why is this so hard to talk about? "So I'm going to this party tomorrow…"
Thankfully Sebastian is going to the party too. He's like my emotional backup, not that I need that sort of thing.
Actually I do. I totally do. It helps ease my nerves that he's with me. If it isn't completely obvious by now, I'm not much of a party person. Or a large crowds person. Nor am I an "I don't care what strangers think of me" person (though I'm told I used to be before the accident).
Miyuki warned me. It didn't stop her from fussing over me as I got ready, but she did warn me. Resigned, however (and exciting to be dressing me up) she went about fetching all sorts of things I didn't feel comfortable wearing. Make-up? What is this on my eyelashes? What is this bra doing to my breasts? What do you mean I can't wear a hoodie? Etc. etc. Rinse, repeat.
Meanwhile Sebastian was parked out in the living room like a date, circa 1950. I told Miyuki the invite came from him, and he's happily playing along. I'm not sure how she would react if she knew I was coming because Kagami asked me to.
Playing it safe, Konata style. I'm going to have to ask one of them what their beef is one day.
But not today. For now I take deep breaths to stave away anxiety.
"Whoa, Konata, chill out." Sebastian. Sweet, sweet Sebastian. He knows me so well and I barely know him at all, "You don't have to come if you don't want to"
"Why the fuck am I so nervous?"
He doesn't answer me while he parks the car a few blocks away from Kagami's apartment. "Social anxiety. You don't like being around large groups of people. And you're afraid of being judged. And-"
"Alright already, jeez! Why do you have to know everything about me?"
He offers me a conciliatory shrug, "You used to know everything about me too. Don't worry about it." We sit in the car for a few minutes. "You still want to go?" He finally asks, "We can leave if you want, I don't mind. I know how you used to hate these things"
Did I? I remember Kagami telling me how differing interests estranged us from the get go in freshman year. I stifle my reticence. "Let's go"
The party is already in full swing by the time we get in. An indie rock song finishes just as a dance piece comes on, though it isn't loud enough that people can't talk to each other. A small crowd is dancing where the TV cushions used to be.
Misao is flitting around in a bunny-girl outfit, serving snacks and just being her own patented brand of perky sexiness.
When she notices us, she dances over. Sebastian, being the smooth guy he is, stares without trying to look like he's staring. And succeeds.
"Hey Konata!" She envelops me in a hug, twirling me around. "What do you think of my costume? Ironic, huh?"
"Hey Misao. Yeah, it's cool." I fail to see any irony. I'm pretty sure she's so far into the culture that she's forgotten what "irony" even means. Poor girl.
"You look good too! I love your dress!" That helps me feel better about it. I prefer pants. And sleeves. Dresses make me feel like I'm trying too hard. Misao grabs my wrist and drags me off, "Come on! I have to show you to Kagami!"
Self-consciousness tackles me from nowhere, and once again I feel really stupid wearing this stupid thing.
"Misao hold on-!"
"Kagamiiii~ guess who's hee~eere"
And there she is, brandishing a martini glass like a pro. She's playing the social butterfly, talking to like five people at once, looking very cosmopolitan with that dress/jeans ensemble that on anyone else would look ridiculous, but on her looks like a friggin' revelation.
She looks over at us and pauses mid-sentence.
Oh jeez. It's that look again.
"Konata, hey!"
"Hi~" Words fail me. I make a stupid little wave and instantly regret it. I think I'm blushing. If I say anything in the next five seconds I'm sure my voice will break like a thirteen year-old boy's.
"I'm glad you could make it, you look good"
"I- uh, Sebastian brought me," I look around for him and it hits me that I pretty much forgot about him when Misao dragged me off. "Don't know where he went though…"
"I'm sure he's fine, let me show you around"
And she does just that, introducing me to a few of her friends, but never abandoning me to talk to them on my own. She's very attentive, and though it makes me feel a little pathetic I'm glad for it. If I was left by myself I'm sure I would never talk to these people, but with her I become engaging, I feel brave.
After she genuinely laughs at another one of my jokes, it surprises me to realize that Kagami didn't invite me to be nice; she invited me because she wants me to be here. It surprises me to realize that I was actually worried about such a thing in the first place.
That's actually a pretty awesome feeling. Why couldn't we have done this before the accident?
But to my horror, Kagami is eventually called away to handle something in the kitchen. She smiles at me apologetically and excuses herself, promising to be back soon.
Where was I? Oh yeah.
I don't like parties. I don't think I ever did, and I remember why when I'm left alone. Everybody has formed off into their own little groups; chatting, dancing, eating, laughing. They coalesce into amoebic clusters that ward off outsiders, and as an outsider it makes me feel pretty crappy. It's like we're all in elementary school again, stumbling to find a table to sit at.
Well, that's how it seems to me anyway. I'm just a shy person who thinks too much when she's uncomfortable, so by all means don't take my word as gospel.
Some of the people I had been talking to when Kagami was with me start conversations, but without here there I'm awkward, I stutter. They smile and move on, and I hope they don't pity me right now.
Well fuck.
I'll just awkwardly sit on this sofa fiddling with my phone while the people with lives are making out with each other. I briefly consider dancing, but I would feel awkward up there on my own. Where is Kagami? God she hasn't been gone five minutes and I'm already lonely.
Feeling as if my phone performance isn't enough to convince anyone that I'm not pathetic, I get up and head for the snack table.
I stare down at an esoteric assortment of what have to be Misao's creations. I try one, earning an explosion of citrus flavor that doesn't quite match the texture of what I think was a kind of Venezuelan pancake.
Weird.
Someone taps my shoulder. Sebastian. He's got a cigarette in between his fingers and he tilts his head towards the balcony. I follow him, shutting in the heavy bass of some Dubstep track as I close the glass door.
Surprisingly no-one else is out here.
"You having fun in there?"
I sigh, "Sorta. Clearly this isn't my scene"
He laughs, "I could have told you that. I saw you sitting there by yourself for a while"
"Ugh, I must have looked pathetic"
"Maybe a little," he lights up his cigarette, smooth bedroom silk oozed out of his mouth. "It's a nice night"
"Yeah it is." Kagami's apartment is high enough that the city lights look like constellations. The stars, meanwhile, were out in full force. There's an entire galaxy outside Kagami' balcony.
"You doing okay?"
"Yeah, just took a little blow to the self-esteem"
His eyes crinkle in their slits, "You wanna hear something funny"
"What's that?"
"I…." he laughs self-derisively, and I know this is an attempt to make me feel better, "Ever since I was a boy, I've have a thing for people who dress like animals"
He delivers this in a folksy deadpan enough like joking that, after a moment's snorting, my eyes widen and I begin to laugh in earnest.
When I catch my breath I wipe tears from my eyes. "Oh man, that's funny. Thanks for that, I needed a laugh!"
He smiles, a single eyebrow quirking in that jaunty manner that is just so him. It takes me a while to realize that he isn't trying to correct me"
"Wait, you're serious? You're a," I lower my voice to a conspiratorial soto, "furry?"
And now it's his turn to laugh, "Yeah! Maybe a little. When I saw that Misao girl in there…you don't even know. That stuff just really gets me going"
"I think anyone would be turned on by what she was wearing"
"Well, yeah. But it's a little more than that. It's like…if she were wearing anything else in the world, so long as she was wearing those bunny ears, I would be good to go." I look at him incredulously, "Hey c'mon, I'm serious here"
"Wow." I allow myself a moment's thought-digestion, "Wow that's pretty crazy"
"Not too bad I hope"
"No, not at all! I mean, thanks for telling me that"
He ruffles my hair, "Relax, it's not as if I'm coming out of the closet or anything. I'm not, by the way."
I put away my pointed stare. "Right, sorry." We both smile at the absurdity of it all. I half-expect him to yell "just kidding!" "I guess that makes it the second time you've told me about this little fetish then?"
"Actually this is the first time I've told anyone"
"Even before-?"
"Even before the accident"
It's not even a big deal, but I feel a tear threatening. I mercilessly wipe it into a smear on my cheek.
I punch him in the arm, even though I really just want to hug him. "You're pretty much my brother aren't you Sebastian?"
He laughs and puts his arm around my shoulders. We spend more time out there, just looking out into the galaxy, than we spent at the actual party.
*Snap!*
We both turn to see Kagami standing there with her camera. Neither of us had noticed her step outside.
"Hey, guys, that was just such a perfect picture so," she holds up her camera and shrugs, "sorry. I'll delete it if you want"
"No, please keep it," Sebastian walks to the door, "I think I need to get back the party anyway." He leans over Kagami's shoulder, looking at the camera's display, "Oh wow, that is a good picture. Send it to me okay?"
Kagami nods, closing the door behind him before turning to me. I can hear Gangnam Style as the door swings open and shut. Inside, entire crowds are riding imaginary horses in that ridiculous dance.
Out here though, we're all sober. "Hey"
"Hey"
"You uh, having fun with Sebastian out here? How scandalous," It's a joke, I know, but it doesn't sound like one.
"Sebastian?! No, oh wow, no. he's just a friend"
She brightens,. "Sorry I didn't mean to assume"
"It's no problem. It's refreshing really. Most people think I'm his little sister. And because he drives me around all the time, well, it's not an impression I've done a very good job at avoiding"
We share a warm laugh. Holy bananas, am I funny. The moment ends in subdued silence.
Finally: "I'm sorry I abandoned you in there. Party drama, you know"
I laugh, "I really don't, but it's alright"
She joins me at the railing. "You been having fun?"
I briefly consider lying, but Kagami's eyes compel the honesty out of me, "Well, maybe a little. No, no not really, this sort of thing isn't my cup of tea." My eyes twinkle with apologetic aplomb.
"Oh…I'm sorry to hear that"
"Don't be! The only times I had fun were when I was with you!" And now I sound clingy. Spectacular. "Wait, I mean…uh, forget I said that"
"That was literally so sweet that I think I have diabetes now"
I'm pretty sure my face is red. "Okay! Okay! Enough mushy talk, moving on!"
She laughs, "I don't know, I think I like this mushy talk. What was that you said about how the highlight of your evening was being with me? Gosh, I can't quite remember…"
"Please, please, forget it. Pretty please with a cherry on top?"
Her smile fades, the light of the balcony light shining off her lipstick, resolving into that same look she's been giving e for the last week. She stalks closer. "No chance of that happening"
The playful air has vanished, replaced by whatever off-the-walls tense nonsense this is. I can feel the blush burning in my cheeks as she gets closer. "J-jeez Kagami," I murmur, "What are you doing?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" She returns.
I'm not sure what's happening. Well, no, that's not true. I'm pretty damn sure I do know what's happening, I just can't reconcile the fact of what's happening with the long-time expectation of what I was pretty sure would never happen. But it's happening and, why oh why didn't I take Nanako and Hiyori's advice seriously? And, and-
And her face is awfully close.
I swallow. "What are you-?" Kagami whispers something, and even though she's barely an inch away I can't hear her.
Slowly, gently, she tilts my head up and presses her lips against mine.
Kagami's lips are…nice.
One of her hands rests on the small of my back, the other on my shoulder. I'm sure that if I don't hold onto her, my legs will give way. So I do, taking a handful of her arm and a fistful of her sleeve. The kiss isn't terribly passionate, but is firm and gentle at the same, lasting long enough that I don't quite notice that Kagami has pulled away before she kisses me again, this time briefly.
She looks at me searchingly. "Konata? Was that…was that okay?"
I wait for the world to resolve itself, but it doesn't. I look up at her nervous purple eyes and feel my life struggling to catch up to me. A rock being lifted bodily off my controller.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"Do you like video games?"
Author's note: Things will only get weirder from here