CHAPTER 11: SILENCE
The crispy air of a cold early morning entered through the slightly opened window of the silent kitchen of the apartment, where only a young lady with an old used t-shirt and poorly rinsed makeup sat with a tall orange empty mug as she awaited the coffee to be ready. Her eyes as empty as the cup.
"Well, that was certainly one interesting night visit" the aged voice of Mrs. Kuyamasa pointed out as she entered her kitchen. Momo limited herself to stand up and pour coffee for her and her mature friend. "You drinking coffee? My my dear, one week out of here and can already tell there have been changes." Mrs. Kuyamasa pointed out carefully sitting on the vintage outdoor chair beside the table.
Momo looked in the well-known pantry and pulled out the small cinnamon jar. "I guess it's a recently acquired taste." She took a seat in front of the elder woman. Only the steam from the coffee mugs between them.
"Sweetie," a wrinkly and tiny hand full of freckles reached for Momo's hand. "What happened last night?" The flashback of the raven-haired missy in front of her pounding her door in the middle of the night was the first thing that came to mind the next morning. She attended the door only to find the young lady with tears rolling down her pearly face, breath still trying to catch her down the street. She seemed as torn as the day they had met at the park, only now her expression had a new shade of fear. And even when her mind was bubbling with questions, years of experience had taught her that we all needed silence after chaos to process.
So once more, she had taken in the pieces of youth without saying a word. She let the hot water on the bathtub upstairs run, gathered some spare clothes to offer her friend and put new sheets on the small room.
"We'll talk in the morning, try to rest dear." Was all she had said to the bundle of emotions sitting in the tub.
"I saw him yesterday." She answered back, her absent eyes looked back at Ms. Kuyamasa from across the table. "He found me."
The aged woman let out a sigh full of empathy, squishing Momo's hand.
"We knew it would happen, honey. After all, he knew you wouldn't quit school."
"That's not the problem." The black eyes of the student looked up, neglecting to let out any more tears. "I wasn't at school. I was on a...I was accompanying someone to the Kitsune Festival and we entered the House of Mirrors and at first, I thought I was hallucinating I-" her voice became croaky, her speech sped up. "I thought I was having a panic attack and it was dark and enclosed and the mirrors but then-" her own hands flew to her face, trying to conceal the fluid fear escaping her eyes.
Mrs. Kuyamasa sat there in silence, her hands discreetly tensing the grip on her coffee mug. After a few seconds of watching the girl's shoulders recoil up and down from the effort of controlling the weeping, her hands revealed her reddened eyes and irritated nose.
"Then he started talking."
The heavy silence contrasted the lightness of the aromatic steam elevating from the mugs.
"What did he say?" Mrs. Kuyamasa's question echoed in the distance as Momo's eyes fixated on her own cup.
"How did you know I was here?"
"Is it important? What matters is that I found you."
"I didn't want you to"
"I always get what I want. And I want things to be better, Momo."
"I'm not something you can have"
"You don't get it, right? I will always be here, to remind you where you belong."
"Then I'll keep running."
Those had been the last words she had said to him before shooting upwards the mini flamethrower prototype she had created. Immediately, all the fire alarms had been activated; security and other people ran inside and found her on the ground, trying not to pass out from the smoke.
"He won't give up." Was all Momo replied to the old lady. She took a long sip of coffee.
As if that recent memory wasn't painful enough, the flashback of professor Aizawa carrying her out of the smoked up house of chaos and checking if she was okay made her wish she had an earth-swallowing quirk she could use to run away from the whole situation.
"This is a disaster." Her hand traveled back to her eyes as if by covering it she could brush away the last mental image. "I was so embarrassed after the whole situation that I ran off until I got here." Now her hands were the ones reaching out for Mrs. Kuyamasa's tiny palms. "I didn't know where else to go. I'm so sorry for disturbing you in the middle of the night like that."
"Oh please child." Mrs. Kuyamasa brushed off the apology. "As a quirkless citizen, it's nice to help a hero once in a while." The wrinkles around her left eye widened in the friendliest way when she winked at Momo. "Besides, I knew you wouldn't last a week without a good Sunday muffin. So worry not, we can spend the rest of the weekend together and you can tell me more about the good part of last night's date."
Momo's face lit up like an old chandelier being lit with too much voltage. "I never said it was a date!" She stood up to get more coffee for both of them.
"You never denied it was one either! The Kitsune Festival was a great opportunity for gentlemen to take gorgeous young ladies like you on dates back in the day. What's an old maid to think?" Mrs. Kuyamasa explained with the curiosity of a teenager.
"It's not like that! I was simply doing a favor to someone." Sometimes Momo wasn't quite sure who was the older one.
The remains of a longing smile in the girl's face seemed to suffice Mrs. K. "Was this favor for the same person who got you into drinking coffee?" She asked with her chin resting on their boney hand.
The blush in Momo's pale face rushed in once more. The girl sprinkled some more cinnamon in her coffee and hid her sight from the old lady behind a sip of her mug.
"Someone's caught your attention, huh?"
A vision of the tall man with ivory skin and a pitch-black mane tied in a messy bun dressed in a dark grey robe with a cleavage deep enough to take a peek at a muscly torso looking straight into her eyes, checking if she had any injuries after pulling her out of the burning House of Mirrors replayed in her mind.
"I guess it's a recently acquired taste."
"Hey stranger"
Sitting at the edge of the classroom's window, her violet haired friend greeted Momo as she approached her desk.
"Right, as if it was that easy to remove me from your life." Momo joked back. It was good to know they were back on good terms, but she remembered her musical friend needed to talk about something important, so they agreed to meet after their respective training sessions for coffee and a very deserved girl talk.
By the time they had finished that conversation, almost everyone had entered the classroom. Momo's hand nervously fixed the rebel chunk of hair in her face when their homeroom teacher entered the classroom. He tried to quiet down the classroom as usual. Their eyes locked for just a second before her deep brown eyes looked back at Jiro, trying to focus on the current conversation.
"Momo?"
"What?" She looked back to her friend, trying to bring her attention back.
"Ladies-"
"I was saying you can tell me about your date over coffee."
An awkward silence entered through the window Jiro was sitting on. Momo's eyes widened when she realized who had approached and interrupted the conversation one second too late. Mr. Aizawa was standing right between them, hands on his pockets, a tired expression on his face.
"And I was saying you should be sitting at your desks so we can start the class." He replied back to Jiro. "Whatever personal affairs you need to discuss, please do so in your own time." He returned back to the front of the classroom, spreading the awkward silence to the rest of the class.
Momo's eyes were incapable of looking at her homeroom professor for the rest of the class. As if things weren't awkward enough between them since Friday, now Jiro unintentionally had made things worse. And to top it off, they had a training session together after class.
When homeroom session was over, Mr. Aizawa stopped her before she could escape the situation.
"Miss Yaoyorozu," he called her. Her steps felt heavy as if her school footwear was made of stone.
"Yes, Mr. Aizawa?" She fixed her eyes on the desk he was standing beside.
"See you at the underground dojo of the dorms at 6. Make sure to bring your training uniform." And said that, the man with scruffy beard and tired eyes walked past her, leaving her alone and anxious for their next meeting.
Thank you as always for reading! I've been feeling quite inspired lately so, the show will go on! All your reviews and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated and treasured as always. See you next time! Love- LB.