All I Ever Ask For Is Truth
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No spoilers at all!
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I wonder if I have done everything right in my life. Is there something I regret?
"Hey, I … I haven't heard your voice in a while." It's strange to sit in the house alone, alone in the fancy living room, it's flooded with light but so empty.
"Yeah. Yeah I remember you told me not to call you anymore. I'm sorry." I lift my hand to my face and wipe over my eyebrows, listening to her screaming on the other side of the telephone line. She hangs up on me but not without threatening me to call the police should I phone her again. I throw the phone across the living room, stand up and walk around, get back to the table where my manuscript lies on.
I've been trying to write. I've been meaning to put down a story, my life story or a love story or something. The publishing company is waiting for it, waiting for a finished product. I have nothing on the paper, nothing meaningful I'd want to tell my audience.
I grab the car keys and my coat, leave the house without locking the entrance door behind me and get into my car. I put the keys into the ignition lock and lean back my head against the seat, breathing in the smells of a fresh car. I couldn't stand my old car.
There's muffled music coming out the radio when I start the engine. I don't really know where I'm headed, I'm not headed anywhere anyways, and drive around town, and look at people. I see couples no matter where I'm looking and decide to drive further away because I hate their happiness. It makes me feel empty.
There's extreme traffic the deeper I drive downtown. I open the car's window and let passing air mess up my hair, try to get joy from the nice weather. I think I should pick up smoking. That's what depressed burnt-out men do, don't they? I think I saw something about that on TV. Something about burying yourself in booze and liquor, smoke and do drugs.
I don't think I'll smoke.
The traffic becomes less once I'm slowly driving out of town. There are less and less houses on the sides of the streets, and the wind becomes more unhinged, more free, and I close my car's window again. It's just me and the music now.
Where are you headed?
Is this question directed at what I'm trying to reach in life, or is it just a moment's question? Where am I driving to? Do I want to move into a new town, and leave my house and work behind, start my life anew? Do I want to waste myself somewhere in nowhere, be taken in by police, have a one-night-stand with a stranger to get over the empty feeling in my chest? Do I want to drive back already, and go back to work? Maybe I can write. Maybe.
I keep driving, my eyes fixed on the straight road ahead of me. I will make a stop at the next gas station, I decide. I will buy bad gas station coffee and I will drink it because I paid for it. It's too hot for coffee, and probably too late too because it's lunch time already, but who gives a fuck and who will tell me I'm wrong to do what I want?
I'm single after all. And an adult.
There's a car on the side of the street, and there's smoke coming from its cowling. I notice it from afar, and I see a young man standing at the car, stretching out his arm with a thumbs up as he sees me approach. He's wearing black tight jeans and more belts than necessary to hold pants up his ass. That's a t-shirt hoodie as well.
I slow down the car and pull to the side, turn off the motor and exit into the heat. As soon as I step outside I miss my car's AC.
"Hey sorry, I'm having problems with the motor. Overheat probably." Hoodie guy has nice eyes, attractive facial features. His hair is standing in all directions and he shoves it out his face, looking embarrassed.
"Yeah, I can tell by the smoke. Did you look inside?"
"It's not my car. I don't ...", he looks away and rubs the back of his neck. "Well, it's hard to explain."
"Uhu, it's cool. I'll take a look." It's too hot, without the cooling wind of my AC or the driving speed. I unbutton the first buttons on my shirt and follow the guy to his car, open the cowling and take a step back to not get the smoke into my face. It stinks as hell.
"Am I fucked?", he asks carefully. I give him a longer look but he seems to be serious, so I shake my head. I roll up my sleeves, lean into the cowling and get to work – it's just engine oil boiling on the hot engine because the cap flew off the filler opening. Nothing grave, more like barking than biting. Stinky and smokey but not the car's end.
"It should be okay", I assure him. My hands are filthy with engine oil and I ask: "Do you have something to wipe my hands off?"
"I don't think so." Hoodie guy hurries around the car and starts searching behind the wheel. I wipe my hands on my pants. I have fresh ones at home anyways. More than enough.
"It's okay. Try starting the engine."
It doesn't work for some reason. The engine dies off as soon as hoodie guy starts it, and he hits the air horn, giving off impressive noise in the vastness around us.
"Fuck!", he shouts out, jumps off the seat and runs past me, disappears behind the open cowling. I follow and watch him do something but it's not hard to tell that he has no idea what he's doing. "Mister, can't you work your magic again?", he asks, pleading.
"I'm in a hurry", I lie, and put my hands into my pants' pockets. He straightens up, goes through his hair with a hand. He looks lost. "I'm off to a gas station. I want coffee. Where are you headed?", I ask, more out of politness than anything else.
"Nowhere. Driving around." He gesticulates vaguely. I nod slowly.
"Well, if you walk this way you'll reach a city. You'll make it until evening if you walk fast enough. Good luck."
"Mister, wait! Can't you take me with you?" I can hear how he runs after me, and he overtakes me in few steps and stops in front of me, his eyes begging me. "Just to the city."
I think about it. Or rather, I pretend to think about it. It doesn't matter anyways. I shrug.
"Sure. Get in."
"Thank you!" The joy on his face brings a smile to mine, and I follow, get into the car and behind the wheel again. "I'm Naruhodou by the way. What's your name, Mister?"
"Asougi. Why you'd call me 'Mister', Naruhodou? I'd wager we're almost the same age?" I make it sound like a question as I start the engine.
"Eh ..." Naruhodou turns in his seat to lean against the passenger's door and looks at me. He sure is lively. "I've been told it's respectful."
"Is it? I didn't call you mister." I throw a quick look at him and notice his position. "Sit straight. It's dangerous to sit like this."
"Life's dangerous. No risk no fun. But really, there's nobody on the street to make sitting like this any more dangerous, ain't there?" He smiles cockily and I hit the brakes hard enough to make him lose balance. Naruhodou manages to catch himself before crashing against the front and curses, and I laugh quietly.
"That wasn't a very fair game, Asougi", Naruhodou complains but moves to sit straight in his seat and buckles his seat belt too. I keep a slight grin on my face.
"Never said it'd be a fair game." I shrug. "Life hardly ever is, isn't it?"
"Heeeeh … You don't seem to be the guy to have a tough life." I notice how threadbare Naruhodou's jeans are around the edges as he pulls his knees closer. "You smell like rich guy. What's your job?"
"Smell …?" I think about this and decide he meant that figuratively. "I'm book author."
"What do you write about?"
"Smut." This answer elicits a choking laughter from Naruhodou.
"For real? Like heavy porn or …?"
"I could sign a book for you", I scoff. Naruhodou leans over the dashboard, his arms crossed under his head, and keeps looking at me. I reciprocate his gaze for some seconds, then focus on the street. "What?"
"Is it?"
"No." He has something intriguing about him. I usually don't talk about my work. No, not even that I don't talk about it. It never interests anyone. Especially when they hear that I prefer to write smut over family friendly books or romance. "I didn't write anything for quite a while now", I confess. Somehow it's easy to say this, to him. I can't explain why.
"That's okay, isn't it?" Naruhodou shifts, grabs behind his shoulder and tugs the hoodie over his hair. His hair spikes still show out under it. For a while we drive in silence, just listening to the radio. I don't recognize the songs, haven't been following trends for some time now. Naruhodou seems to know them because he turns up the volume and hums along.
A gas station comes into sight and I slow down the car, pull in and turn off the engine.
"Want a coffee?", I ask.
"Nah. I'm fine, thanks."
I open the car door and cringe at the sticky air that attacks my body immediately. During my way into the gas station and back to the car with a coffee in hand my shirt manages to soak completely and sticks to my back and chest. It's uncomfortable, and makes me want to undress, and I stare at the coffee in my hands. That was such a stupid idea.
Naruhodou is standing outside the car and looks at something in his hands. I round the car to stand next to him and see that he's holding a mobile. He puts it away and smiles at me wryly.
"You weren't joking about that?" He points at the cup in my hands.
"I'm stubborn I guess." I half seat myself onto the cowling, turned to keep him in my gaze, both hands around the cheap cup. "You sure you don't want anything in there?"
"Nah." He waves me off. His jeans vibrate and he reaches for his mobile, throws a glance at the screen without pulling the phone out completly and hides it away again. He notices the question in my eyes when he looks up again. "Have you ever run from responsibility?", he asks.
"Is that what you're doing now?" I take a sip of my coffee and burn the tip of my tongue. I curse.
"Did you?", Naruhodou insists. Talking to him is so refreshing. Uncomplicated. It feels good.
"All my life, probably." I push myself off the cowling, walk to a trash bin and without further ado throw my coffee away. So much for drinking it because I paid for it. "So I take it you don't have anywhere to go?"
"Maybe." Naruhodou looks wary. I scratch my jaw.
"Ever felt like doing something stupid, Naruhodou? There's a fair in the neighboring town. If we go now we'll make it in time. You know, sweets. Or fish on stick if you like that more. I invite you."
"And that's a good idea how?" Naruhodou laughs. I think about it, try to find any argument that would support my stance, would validate why I'm inviting a stranger to a different town that's not on my way as well. I can't think of anything (it's called "stupid" for a reason) but it's not necessary. "Let's go." I'm surprised about how little resistance Naruhodou puts up. "But let me buy some water first. I'll be right back."
I decide to wait in my car for him. It's cooler there but then I happen to catch a look of myself in the rear view mirror and notice how horrible I look. Sweaty, wild hair, shadows under my eyes (I didn't sleep much lately). Then again, my eyes look very much awake. I look as if on drugs if I'm honest. If I met someone who looks like me I wouldn't talk to him, lest follow him into a different town.
"Back faster than the wind, Asougi." Naruhodou falls into the seat next to me and smiles and I forget how shitty I look like. Who cares? If he doesn't, I shouldn't either.
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Looking back I have no idea what we talked about all this time while driving. He tells me a lot about his life and shares some memories with me but he never mentions the problems he's having. Neither do I, and it's a mutual unspoken agreement to keep the drive nice and carefree. At some point Naruhodou tells me he stole the car that I checked the cowling of. I laugh.
"You're not going to be mad? I'm a thief." Naruhodou looks surprised. He may seem like a difficult individual at first glance but he's definitely not. He's upright and honest, and caring. I haven't been this relaxed for ages around anybody.
"I'm addicted to gambling. I cheated on my wife and she hates my guts for that. Does this make you mad?", I ask. It's slowly turning dark around us, and I'm driving with one hand on the wheel, supporting the weight of my chin on my other hand and half leaning out of the open car window. My hair is fluttering in the warm wind and I'm enjoying this feeling. We're not driving very fast anyways.
"Eeeh … Fuck, man. Why did you do it?", Naruhodou asks. For the first time of ever talking about my situation the question (it's always the same one) doesn't sound accusatory or makes me clam up as usual. For the first time I can smile, even if it's a sad smile.
"At some point I just found out that I didn't love her anymore. I couldn't tell her, you know? I woke up next to her and felt something was missing. But being without her is just as bad. It fucking sucks, to be honest." I think about this. I think about this a lot, honestly. Is there anything I have done wrong with my life? I had a family, a loving wife. My career was nothing to complain about (even if people usually don't approve of my job), and I should have been a happy man. A good husband.
"Have you ever been in love, Naruhodou?", I ask.
"No. I do not- I don't think .." He struggles with his words.
"It's okay", I say. There are certain topics that some people can't talk about. I understand that.
"It's not." He crosses his arms in front of his chest. In the far we can see lights, and skyscrapers further away. "I can't tell what love is. You know, sometimes I felt like this is it, this is what I ever wanted. But it's not. It's so complicated."
"Your girlfriend?", I ask. He turns his head.
"My boyfriend", he corrects me. I lift my chin up and lower it again. Naruhodou sighs. "Fuck."
"Did you talk about it with him?"
"What. That I may want more than just fucking?" He fiddles with the hemlines of his hoodie and leans deeper against the car seat. "How do you even talk about stuff like this?"
"He's your boyfriend." I put two fingers against my temples, rubbing my eye. "Nevermind. I'm not one to talk." Is it irony or fate that made me meet him? We may seem so different but there are so many parallels between us. The more we talk the clearer it gets and it's shocking me. Just, I don't know what he can do different to not end up like me. And I wish that Naruhodou never gets into the same situation as me. He's a good guy, he doesn't deserve the pain that I'm living through. "Do you want to break up with him?", I ask carefully.
"No", Naruhodou answers immediately.
"Do you love spending time with him?", I ask.
"Yes." I keep quiet. I don't really know where I'm going with this line of questioning.
The music in the radio switches to something slower, romantic. I recognize the song and reach out to switch it off but Naruhodou catches my hand before I'm able to press the button. His hand is warm and his grip tight. I frown.
"I hate this song", I say. "Turn it off."
"Why?" He gently forces my hand down. I'm about to repeat myself, I'm about to get angry with the sudden memory, but Naruhodou lets go off my hand and turns the volume all the way down until it's completely silent in the car. Instead he's humming the song he just silenced.
I listen. The song sounds better when it comes from Naruhodou. It sounds different.
"I still hate it." He laughs.
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We reach the fair when it's completly dark around us and exit the car at the parking lot. There are a lot of people here, pressing past other people that are standing around booths. Lights illuminate the night, and cold air is brushing over my bare skin. I brush my fingers through my hair and look up to the Ferris wheel that thrones over the fair like a king. Chattering and fair music is reaching me.
"Let's go?" Naruhodou steps next to me and I offer him my arm before the thought that it may be strange to do so occurs to me. But he just takes it without comment.
I don't remember when the last time I've been to a fair was. There's no real appeal to it in my opinion, just food and wasting money that I can just as well waste in casinos with a higher chance of winning something. But one look at Naruhodou's shining eyes tells me that this is worth it. His joy is contagious and before long I find myself at the shooting stand, paying the fee for two rounds. Naruhodou begs me to start and with a smirk I take aim.
I miss.
"Aaah, Asougi, aim better!" Naruhodou grabs me by my elbow and points at the little labels all over the stand's wall, explaining that I actually have to shoot them off if I want to succeed, and I'm captivated by sudden determination to shoot something for him, just to prove that I understand that point. Even after two rounds it's just enough for the smallest prizes.
"Well, you tried." The booth guy winks and reaches over the basket with what I can choose from. I lift my eyebrows at Naruhodou and he immediately snatches a hairband, reaches up and ties his hair into a short ponytail. I stare, and he blushes.
"Does it look bad?", he asks.
"No. I'm just – if you wanted a hairband we could have gotten one at the gas station. For less money."
"That's the point though. It's not only expensive but it's something you've won for me. The Asougi band, you know." He says it with a seriousness that pushes heat into my cheeks and I avert my gaze. Not that it passes Naruhodou unnoticed. "What are you getting all shy for? Next time shoot better and it will be more than just a hairband."
"Hey, why didn't you do it if you're better?" I hit him but he dodges my weak punch, laughing.
"Want me to shoot something for you? Watch that." He grabs my arm and pulls me to the archery stand, on the opposite side of the walkway. He pays for one round, listens to the explanation of how to use the bow attentively and grabs the bow that the woman behind the booth table reaches him. When his fingers close around the carved wood I can already tell that he's no amateur. It's funny to watch him boast in this silent way, and I lean to the side to watch him better as he's shooting, smiling. Of course he hits the aim on the far wall perfectly, every single arrow, and I notice how he lets out controlled breaths every time before he hits bullseye.
"Cupid", I say, and Naruhodou's eyes flash over to me when he lets loose of his last arrow. It misses.
"What?", he asks and puts down his bow, his ears and cheeks slowly turning red.
"Cupid", I repeat. "They say he never misses his aim."
"Well." Naruhodou averts his gaze, his ears still burning. "I just missed. Thanks to you."
"Isn't my fault that you're so easy to distract." I put a hand against his triceps and move closer in a clumsy attempt of comfort, and then am asked to choose something from the prizes by the booth's proprietor. Since I can take something middle-sized I go with a black mouse that's holding a piece of cheese in both paws and wears a little funny hat.
"A mouse?"
"I'll cuddle with it at night. It gets lonely in bed alone", I say jokingly and look down the walkway to see where to go next, so I miss Naruhodou's reaction, and add: "We should grab something to eat. I didn't even drink the coffee this lunch. I'm starving."
"Sure." We walk on, get into line for little snacks like pancakes, fish on sticks (I wasn't joking when I said food like this is sold on fairs), and something they call a "Wurstsemmel", nothing more than sausages in a roll …
"The name justifies the prize", Naruhodou says between bites but we both must confess it's delicious.
"Does it though? I'm an unpaid book author with no money. How will I able to afford a living at this rate?" It feels like a sarcastic comment and in other contexts – in any context, really – shows very much of my character, but Naruhodou shrugs and asks me to ride the Ferris wheel with him. I agree to it.
We get into line, pay for two tickets and watch the respective cabins move in rounds, stopping from time to time to let people in and out.
"I'm afraid of heights", Naruhodou suddenly speaks up. He puts his head back and a hand against his eyebrows to get a better look at the very top. I stare at him.
"Wha- why do you suggest to- It's not too late, we can turn back now." I already reach out to pull him away but he instead takes my hand and looks at me, his facial expression so serious like I haven't seen him today.
"I'll be okay. I won't be there alone. You're with me."
I open my mouth but no words come out. I want to tell him that I'm not able to help, that I'm not a reliable, no I'm actually a terrible person, and that he should rethink his opinion of me, but none of these words ever see the light of day. The Ferris wheel stops and the attendant asks us to enter a cabin, and much to my quickening heartbeat we're alone in our cabin, just Naruhodou and me.
The floor is quite shaky from just stepping on it and I feel fear kicking in almost immediately, even though we aren't up in the sky yet. I sit down, put my arm onto the railing (it's an open cabin and leaves a great opportunity to look over the night sky and the city lights but hell do I wish it was closed instead and wouldn't shake so much) and cling to the metal in my hands. Naruhodou sits down next to me, not close enough to touch, and embraces himself.
The cabin starts moving, way too fast for my liking, and we're rapidly ascending, and it feels like all blood is rushing from my brain into my heart. Then I notice that Naruhodou is off worse than me because he's actually shaking, very pale, and stares at the tip of his shoes. Without a second thought I let go off the railing and pull him closer to myself, pull him to my chest and embrace him. His heart is flapping like a caged bird inside his chest – just like mine – and he lets go off himself to wrap his arms around my waist instead. I give off a shaky laugh.
"We're suicidal", I say.
"Life's never been easy", Naruhodou whispers.
Our cabin reaches the top of the Ferris wheel and I feel how my breath catches. Despite my fear and the height we're on the sight is gorgeous – from here you can see the stars on the sky and a what feels million lights in the distance, and the thought strikes me that down there are thousands of people living their lives, small like ants, right now, and I'm up in the sky with Naruhodou in my arms, looking down on them. I've met this man today, through an accident, and for some reason we both went with a flow that we do not understand.
"Maybe some things are that easy", I mumble, more to myself. But I whisper at Naruhodou: "Look at this beauty." If I wasn't so scared I may even stand up to get a better look. I understand why people go onto Ferris wheels and pay so much for a ride now. Night time, and night lights, those are things you can't capture in words or through the lens of a camera. That's what makes it special. What makes it beautiful.
"I'm looking", Naruhodou says, and I throw a quick glance at him, only to notice that he does not, in fact, look at the city lights. It takes me another second to process his last words, to understand the meaning, and my eyes widen and my head flies around to look back into Naruhodou's sincere eyes.
He laughs shakily.
"Was that cringy? Look, I'm just – I don't know." He straightens up in my arms, blushing. "It's a strange feeling, Asougi. I'm feeling like I'm doing something right in my life, for the first time. I don't fear that I'm doing anything wrong, you see? I mean, it doesn't feel wrong. That makes it right, logically." He's smiling but there's also a single tear running down his cheek, into the corner of his mouth. I lift my hands and cup his face, brush away the tear with my thumb. I haven't felt like this ever since …
"Naruhodou ..."
"Look, I'm not saying -" He's fighting with his words and breaks off, closing his eyes for a second. "I don't want to hurt you, Asougi. This may seem like I'm taking advantage of you, because I ran away from home and I'm in a relationship and considered marrying him, and I just burdened you with all of my problems, and then .. you have your own problems. You're sad and depressed, and you don't need someone like me in-"
"Naruhodou." I interrupt him with emphasis this time and finally – finally – he looks up and meets my eyes. I have been fighting with words for months, I have not been able to put them onto paper and write a novel but today, this evening, it's so easy to speak what's on my mind. "This day is everything I could wish for. Stop talking badly about yourself, you're the most honest, upright and genuine person I've ever met. I haven't had this much fun in an eternity, and I'm grateful for every moment we had, and still have. Please, I- whatever you want, Naruhodou, I'm here, and … I will not rush anything, or force -" I stumble over my words as his lips touch mine and shut me up. His kiss is salty, remnants of the tears on his cheeks, and it tastes bittersweet as I lean in and return it, deepen it. My hands brush over his jaw and I bury them into his hair, astonished how soft it is despite its looks. Forgotten is the Ferris wheel and only the sensation of our joined lips exists for the moment, and I have to force myself to break away to breathe, and to not overstep a boundary.
We're both breathing heavily, cheeks flushed and eyes glistening, temple against temple. Naruhodou reaches for my hand on the seat and intertwines his fingers with mine, not looking away.
"Thank you", he says. I shake my head against his and close my eyes. I feel at peace and at the same time like exploding with joy. I feel like crying, too.
"Thank you", I whisper.
The ride on the Ferris wheel is over quickly and I wish we could have sat side by side with Naruhodou just like that, going in rounds without sorrows and thinking about what will come next, just arm in arm. But everything comes to an end at some point, and once we're off we don't part but amble back to my car in unspoken agreement.
"We should maybe stay here for the night. I don't feel I'll be able to stay awake for a drive back", I confess. "But I don't have any money left to pay for a room."
"Me neither." Naruhodou yawns. "How used are you to sleeping in cars?", he asks.
"Not very. I prefer beds." I open the door to the backseat and scrutinize it as sleeping place. "You sure?"
"Yeah. And tomorrow we'll stop by the gas station and buy coffee. And drink it this time for real."
"Deal." I smile. No, I definitely do not regret anything, looking back.