And scarcely after she had said those words, she decided to take her leave. A trace of camphor wafted in through the veranda. The world shone bright. Facing her by the entranceway, I struck up some small talk.
"Leaving so soon, Akemi-san?"
"I have places to be."
"Where to, if I might ask?"
"The ends of the world, and back again, maybe."
Hearing her bizarre comical remarks yet again, I gave a small but unrestrained laugh. I had gradually grown accustomed to her strange figures of speech and formality throughout the morning.
"The things you say sometimes, Akemi-san…"
In response, she gave a courteous smirk.
"You certainly are a busy person, aren't you, Akemi-san?"
"Yes, I am."
"Even though it's only in the middle of the term right now?"
"Precisely because I am free now – so I am free to make myself busy."
"And what might you be so busy with?"
She let slip a small grimace of discomfort. Seeing that, I thought I had probed too far into her affairs, but she answered me nonetheless.
"Saving the world. Would you believe me if I said that?"
"Not really."
We shared an amiable laughter. Sometime during our conversation, it had begun to drizzle outside; it was a sun shower.
"I guess it is natural that you find the things I say difficult to believe. But I assure you, Tomoe-san, I do not lie."
"You don't?"
"In the distant past, I have lied many times."
"Ah, I see. So you want to correct yourself now and do the right thing?"
"When did I ever say I did the wrong thing," and she smirked at me once more.
I had slipped up, and uttered a habitual phrase that I knew was all too rigid. All I could do was stay silent.
"If," she elaborated, "you were standing at a fork in the road, and you saw a stranger dash to your left – and if a gang went up to you, asking if you saw him, and if you knew where he went – what would you do?"
"Call the police?"
"And put yourself in imminent danger?"
"I guess that's not a feasible option."
"There are only so many times you can give yourself up to higher powers and still protect what you want."
She simpered, urging me to respond.
"So would you tell them that he went right, and in doing so, save the man's life?"
"I would," I replied with determination.
"That is surprising. Even if it means that you lie?"
"In that situation, that I lie should be the last of my concerns."
Then she looked at me, and said: "As I thought, you are very kind."
But just as I was about to return the compliment, she dipped her head down and continued on.
"However, how would you know what they were chasing him for? And how would you know what they would do to him? Were they really going to hurt him? You made a risk assessment, a very reasonable one, but what if he deserved it – deserved to die?"
"No one deserves to die," I firmly rebutted.
"Oh? Tell me why."
"It is a fundamental right – our right to life."
"And therefore? Force precedes morality," she added with a rising tone.
Slighted, I almost raised my voice in the heat of the moment.
"How can you say that?"
"Because I am evil," she replied smoothly, "But am I wrong, now, Tomoe-san?"
And she chuckled.
"That is, unless you insist that there is some divine morality, or some natural morality at work, then force precedes morality. But even then, there will be divine punishment for such transgressors, won't there be? There is no need for human intervention in affairs of the divine, is there? Yes, truth is made clear from error. But after all, between people, things are not so simple, are they?"
I found myself at a loss. I strongly wanted to argue against her words, but I could not conjure any arguments. Beneath her gossamer tone, there was a heaviness to her statements.
"What is right, and what is wrong? This is an age of comparisons we live in. I can't say I know what we ought to do – I will not be so arrogant as to say that – but I think this is something we have to spend our whole lives considering."
She sighed, smiled, and looked away.
"You see, Tomoe-san, this is why I do not lie anymore. At the very least, I do not find it preferable to do so. By and large, the truth is better – the truth as far as we can best relate it, that is."
I smiled back at her, but she never met my eyes. It had been a long time since I felt so powerless before another. The burden I felt in my heart as I listened to her words was almost nostalgic.
"Well then," she gently huffed, "I must be going now."
"It's raining outside though. Looking at it, it'll probably subside soon. And you don't have an umbrella, do you? Why don't you stay a little longer?"
"It's just a little rain. Upon us all, a little rain must fall."
With that, she looked out the veranda again, gazing far into the shining distance. I was about to suggest lending her an umbrella from my arsenal, when Nagisa stumbled out of the bedroom.
"Ah, Nagisa, ohaiyou."
"Ohaiyou."
Hair frazzled, dressed in pink-striped pajamas, she gave off a lazy yawn. Catching sight of our new visitor, she became slightly alarmed and bowed politely.
"Ohaiyougozashita," she slurred and walked over to my side, "my name is Momoe Nagisa desu."
In kind, Homura-chan bowed and slurred out, "Ohaiyougozashita. Akemi Homura desu."
Whatever thought she had of leaving seemed to momentarily leave her there and then, as she occupied herself with Nagisa.
She turned to me and asked with a straight face, "Is this your child, or are you just a lolicon?"
My eyes widened at the accusation, and I stuttered, flabbergasted. But I quickly recovered from the jab.
"Maybe this, too, is something you'll have to consider for the rest of your life."
"I see. So you are a lolicon."
"Nonsense."
She smirked yet again.
"Well, putting aside the issue of your sexual preferences, is she a good girl?"
"Very much so. Honestly, I don't know how I'd get by without her."
"I see. That's a relief."
Then, she looked at Nagisa and addressed her warmly.
"Nagisa… chan?"
"Hai, onee-san?"
"Remember to take good care of yourself and Tomoe-san. Enjoy everything that life has to offer."
"Mm," she smiled and nodded, still half-asleep.
But just when I thought all was said and done, Nagisa abruptly asked her, "Onee-san, are you married?"
Immediately, my eyes darted over to her ring finger. It was true: she was wearing what seemed to be a simple wedding or engagement ring, with no gem. I had never noticed it before.
"Hmm… Well…"
Homura-chan lifted her left hand up and inspected the ring for a while, still firmly wrapped around on her finger. For a moment, I thought she had become sentimental. Her eyes became moist, though it was hardly noticeable. It could just have been a trick of the light though, as it washed the apartment with a luminous white.
"I suppose you could say I'm not married."
"Then what's the ring for?"
"This ring… it is just a memento."
"Then when are you getting married?"
"Never."
"Why not?"
"Divine punishment," she answered kindly.
Then, she left the house, promising to bring along a gift the next time she came to visit. We waited outside the apartment till she had left the shelter of the building, when Nagisa began waving to her and calling out her name. She turned around to face us and waved back, before she carried on walking in the light drizzle, baked by the sun. All around her, the morning dew on the petals of flowers sparkled brightly, making it look as though she were traveling down a silver garden.
And when I seated myself down again at the coffee table to clear the plates, I was struck with inspiration by the morning's tumultuous happenings and hastily penned down the following verses in my sketchpad:
Quietly, they draw closer,
without parting.
From their perch on the windowsill,
they sing.
