Disclaimer:
Let's just skip the giant disclaimer you can find in Chapter 1!
x.
FS
x.
x. ENCOUNTER in VENICE x.
(new version)
x.
Fate seemed to pull the strings
I turned and you were gone
While from the darkened wings
The music box played on
("Charade", lyrics by Johnny Mercer)
x.
The sun is already…
(Saturday, November 3rd 20xx, from different points of view)
x.
The sun is already high in the sky when Shiho opens her eyes. Cocooned in the soporific warmth of two blankets, facing the sunlight filtering in through the half-closed slats of the wooden Venetian blinds, she sleepily registers that she is alone. Seiya is gone, either training at the barre in his studio on the top floor of the academy or practising in his soundproof room, where he keeps his guitars and drums. Being with a musician and actor entails sharing him with his job sixteen hours a day.
Falling into a light sleep interspersed with bizarre dreams and half-waking moments, Shiho wonders whether Kudo was right that she has become dependent. After giving him the watercolour card, she has become more tranquil when it comes to her past, floating on a cloud of devil-may-care insouciance despite knowing that her house of cards can crash down on her at any time. She knows that this is the proverbial calm before the storm—the fearlessness of a woman who has done all she could do and who is now awaiting her fate without being able to do much about it.
One day, a letter addressed to Seiya will be either intercepted and destroyed by her or (if she doesn't succeed) be read by him, which will be the end of their relationship. Refusing to play Tenoh-san's game, Shiho doesn't ask her boyfriend to change his number or give her his key to their mailbox. The next logical step would be to separate him from all his friends and acquaintances, his agent, and even his brothers—hiding him from the world so that no informant can deliver the letter to him. Once one has succumbed to paranoia, the obsessive behaviour will be difficult to stop. Repulsed by the thought of such pathological conduct and tired of the despondency trap she fell into every time Tenoh-san threatened to inform Seiya about her past, Shiho obstinately continues to pretend that this relationship isn't dangling on a thin thread, hinging on chance with the odds stacked against her.
Images of Tenoh-san, whirling around Shiho's head in every of Shiho's more realistic dreams (the dreams with a recognizable plot) are invariably set against the background of one of the bars or clubs in San Margherita, where Shiho and Tenoh-san used to meet during Seiya's rehearsals. Tenoh-san will, invariably, wear blue jeans and a soft cotton shirt or a knitted pullover—comfortable clothing, which doesn't suit Tenoh-san's abrasive manners and driven character. In the same way, Tenoh-san will always order an Earl Grey, a green tea, an espresso with milk and sugar, or even a spritz al bitter, depending on the time of the day. They will have an animated, friendly chat, which Shiho greatly enjoys, until Tenoh-san abruptly drops the role of the charming conversationalist for the role of the obnoxious moralist and urges Shiho to "do the right thing" just for the sake of doing it…
x.
"Tough luck, but the lady already has a date for tonight!"
Throwing her arm proprietorially around Shiho's waist, Tenoh-san smirked at the black-haired man in a grey wool and silk-blend suit, who was about to approach Shiho with the familiar bashful half-smile of blossoming infatuation. Shiho's natural inclination was to shake off Tenoh-san's impertinent arm, but, recalling what happened the last time she unknowingly encouraged someone's (Luigi Gentile's) interest in her, she deliberately suppressed the impulse for fear that the stranger could misread the gesture.
Embarrassed, the young man stammered an unintelligible apology and retreated, returning to his friends, who showered him with utterances of consolation. Shiho rolled her eyes at her companion, who took it as a cue to let go of her waist. Later, when Tenoh-san and Shiho had left the bar to settle comfortably into their chairs in a rear corner of the club, Tenoh-san directed her smirk, which slowly transformed into an irresistible smile, at the waitress who took their order.
Shiho's new admirer darted longing glances in the direction of their table, which Tenoh-san, whose attentiveness rivalled Shiho's, answered with a threatening frown.
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much," Shiho remarked after the waitress had left. "That was uncalled for!"
"No, you can't. I've left you alone for two minutes and you've already racked up broken hearts for a new record."
"Nonsense. You're projecting."
Tenoh-san's spritz al bitter and Shiho's Blue Lagoon mocktail arrived seconds later (the uncommon warmth and the lightning speed at which they were served made Shiho suspect that, once again, a waitress had fallen for Tenoh-san's husky voice and masculine looks). Now they were stirring their drinks in contentment, watching the candle throwing flickering shadows on the blue vase on their table, from which a single pink rose with two perfect leaves was raising its head, looking evocative of a dancing girl.
"What would your boyfriend say if I told him that you date his handsome friends and flirt with dark, elegant strangers during his absence, koneko-chan?" Tenoh-san beamed at Shiho, sipped at her spritz al bitter, and wrinkled her beautiful nose in distaste. "Too much soda this time. If this happens again, I'm going to shoot the bartender!"
"You know him. He is never jealous." Shiho sighs, failing to mention that Seiya flirted with anything that moved just for the fun of it. "He firmly believes that he is the nicest and most attractive guy on earth and that I'm smart enough to stay with him."
"The kid is right, alas," Tenoh-san laughed, "that is, if one doesn't count me since I'm, strictly speaking, not a guy." She leaned in, stared seductively into Shiho's eyes, and lovingly stroked Shiho's chin. "What about passing your nights with me until he comes back?" she whispered. "I bet you're going to enjoy it."
"Stop messing around!" Shiho drew away after giving Tenoh-san's hand a slap. "Your jokes are getting us into trouble, especially when you make them in the academy in front of my students. Kaioh-san is going to misunderstand."
Tenoh-san's flirtatious behaviour and their regular meetings had given rise to speculations about the nature of their relationship. Despite her angelic patience, Kaioh-san had begun to look hurt whenever she overheard the gossips of the dancers at the academy.
"Don't worry," Tenoh-san chuckled, turning her attention to her spritz, whose orange and reddish-brown colour glimmered like fire opal and amber whenever the light of the candle played on it. "As much as I love looking at you, I'll never like you enough to leave Michiru!"
"I'm not afraid of you but of Kaioh-san. I wouldn't be surprised if she cracked up and murdered you in your sleep. Honestly, I don't know how she could put up with you for so many years."
"Love," Tenoh-san answered, taking Kaioh-san's understanding for granted. A breeze from the open door ruffled her short blonde waves, and she turned her face towards it in enjoyment. It was one of the few moments in which she looked happy and relaxed, taking in the clear summer night without brooding about anything.
For a half an hour, they chatted about the books they had read, about the music Tenoh-san had recommended Shiho, about Hotaru-chan's first violin recital, which was a success, and about Meioh-san's latest monograph on black holes, about which Tenoh-san wanted to hear Shiho's opinion. They also discussed Kudo's latest case, which Tenoh-san had heard about in the Japanese news. And Shiho showed Tenoh-san her new mobile phone, which was perpetually on airplane mode and which she only used to read e-books, as she was too paranoid to use it for messages and phone calls.
Shiho's Blue Lagoon, cooled with more ice cubes than necessary, was the same shade of blue as Seiya's eyes, and Shiho wondered for a moment whether he was still working or practising when she remembered the time difference between New York and Venice. They had already emptied three quarters of their glasses, leaving only a few drops of their drinks, the ice cubes, and garnish, before Tenoh-san reached out and touched Shiho's hand.
"Something is bothering you tonight," Tenoh-san observed with a boyish grin. "Unless it's the sort of spiritual longing which even a drop-dead-gorgeous butch like me can't satisfy, you should just dump it on me and watch me solve it for you."
The night was too pleasant to destroy it with arguments and accusations. Still, Shiho knew she had to address the issue sooner or later. Drinking up her Blue Lagoon, she delved into her pocket and brought out the small trading card—the cause of her sleepless nights since Seiya went to New York two weeks ago.
"Look what I've found in Seiya's jacket," she said, and placed it on the table. She had been ransacking his pockets for new tissues when she discovered the small print of The Starry Night. Having paid attention to her art classes at Infinity, it didn't take her long to see the parallel between the painting and Seiya's name. At first, she believed it to be one of his quirky ideas or even one of Yaten-san's cards, as Night Sky would have been a fitting name for the painting as well. But after seeing a similar card in the pocket of a robber Seiya had knocked out during the same evening and noticing that Seiya had ignored it (in order to hide it from her?), she knew that the card meant trouble.
There was a flicker of recognition in Tenoh-san's eyes before they met Shiho's gaze and turned unreadable.
"I haven't mentioned it to Seiya yet," Shiho added, "because I wanted to hear your opinion first." Despite her rising anger, she deliberately refrained from saying "your excuse", as she knew that "Tenoh-sama" could simply get up and leave at any moment without giving her an explanation.
"Nice painting," Tenoh-san remarked after another sip of her spritz. "Too bad the original is not for sale—although I'm sure that like everything else by Van Gogh, it would be hopelessly overpriced nowadays." She took the card into her hand to study the painting with the attentive eyes of a connoisseur. "I can't really understand the hype about it, though. I like the brush strokes, but the colour palette isn't as great as all the Van Gogh lovers claim." After emptying her spritz, she held the card against the candlelight, making Shiho wonder whether she was going to burn it. "The glaring yellows in the sky hurt my eyes. Maybe it's just the print, but Michiru would say that these shades of blue don't complement these shades of yellow well. Van Gogh himself wasn't satisfied with it either; and I don't think it would have become so famous if it hadn't been for Van Gogh's gruesome death." She returned the card to Shiho, whereupon Shiho placed it on the table between them. "Did you know that he painted it in the asylum of Saint-Paul-de-Mausole? I wish he had included the iron bars in front of his window."
Having heard the background story of The Starry Night at Infinity, Shiho wasn't interested in brushing up on her knowledge of art history.
"Knowing your yellow Ferrari, I'd have expected another comment from you." She sighed in frustration, realizing that this was going to be more difficult than she had hoped. "There's no accounting for taste. Someone made over forty million euro last month just by showing this card to a well-heeled person, who is usually not in the least interested in post-Renaissance art."
"Impressive! That 'someone' leads a rather extravagant lifestyle," Tenoh-san darkly observed. "Or they have many affairs, who have a plenty of expensive hobbies. At least you can be sure that it's not your boyfriend. I give him enough credit to expect him to share the profit with you instead of letting you live on the crumbs you earn with your odd jobs. It's a shame that you still refuse to be paid for what you've done for Hotaru-chan—although I doubt that all money in the world could have rewarded you for your work."
No longer certain about her deduction in light of Tenoh-san's innocent face, Shiho decided to stop beating about the bush to lure Tenoh-san out of her reserve.
"I fear the person we're talking about is not only extravagant but also a hopeless idealist, who thinks that they need all the resources they can get in order to save the world."
Tenoh-san frowned, leaned back in her chair, and crossed her arms.
"Who has told Seiya about the blackmail?" She raised her perfectly arched brow. "Alberto Coiro? I'm starting to believe I'm the only person who is immune to your boyfriend. Even my male—and straight!—informants change sides after they get to know him."
"I don't know," Shiho lied, as she had talked to Coiro before coming here. "It doesn't matter who has given it to him. The one who has made these cards and is distributing them among the people on the list is the person I have a problem with."
"It's always the same with the people you trust. Sooner or later, they're going to stab you in the back." Tenoh-san distractedly poked at the orange zest twist in her glass with her spoon. "That's it! You can tell Coiro he is fired as of now."
"He is only worried about you. Why are you doing this?" Since Tenoh-san didn't react, Shiho gave Tenoh-san's shoe a slight kick under the table. "They've lost, we've won, you've already got your revenge—so just let go!"
Tenoh-san smiled. An enigmatic, joyless smile with a tinge of indulgent self-pity.
"It's never over," she soberly said, her smile replaced by an air of decisiveness which sent a chill through Shiho, who realized that the short spell of peace in her life was over and might never return. "The world, as it is now, is in need of dramatic improvement."
"And why do you think that it's your mission to save it?"
"Whose mission is it, then?" Wasn't Kudo's aspiration for saving the world one of the things which impressed Shiho most about her detective, Tenoh-san asked. Humankind would have died out long ago without the few people who dedicated their lives to improving it—although "improvement" was, admittedly, an overly positive use of vocabulary.
"There's a world of difference between you and him. Kudo isn't the type to sell his own grandmother to achieve what he wants," Shiho sharply returned. "He has a very strong sense of integrity."
"That's exactly what makes him so ineffective," Tenoh-san commented, taking another sip of her spritz. "Solving individual crimes and serving the present judicial system doesn't change anything about the whole picture."
"This sounds awfully familiar! I've heard all these things before—from the people you despised."
"The truth is the same no matter from whose mouth it comes. There is only one truth, your detective would say."
Unable to figure out how to stop Tenoh-san, who was set to self-destruct and pull others down with her, Shiho helplessly buried her forehead in her palms.
"There is a problem with this, though," Tenoh-san continued. "Seiya is in danger! It's not like it's something new since Pandora's Box, but the degree of threat has certainly shot up."
"And whose fault is it?" Shiho snapped, enraged by Tenoh-san's hypocrisy. "This is the worst you could have done to him apart from killing him yourself!"
Tenoh-san gave her a blank look.
"It wasn't me—if that's what you believe."
Bewildered, Shiho thought for a moment about the possibility that Tenoh-san's simple statement was true and decided to consider it, albeit hesitantly. If their previous talk was an example of miscommunication and Tenoh-san had been talking about her general principles while Shiho was solely focussed on the trading card, they had to start anew.
"Coiro swears that it was you." Shiho cast her mind back to her conversation with Tenoh-san's Venetian informant, who took care of Seiya's boat from time to time and updated Seiya on the overall situation in Italy in exchange for free singing lessons. Although she couldn't afford to rule anyone out, she believed the talented street musician to be one of the more trustworthy and loyal people who wouldn't ever sell their ideals and their allies for money.
"So it's his word against mine! Whose do you trust?" Tenoh-san's eyes narrowed.
"If it was really not you, we'll have to look into this… since whoever did this must be one of your people." If Tenoh-san was really innocent, there must be a traitor among them—Shiho surmised—and Tenoh-san had an inkling of who it was when she saw the trading card. Nevertheless, Shiho knew it was no use probing into Tenoh-san if Tenoh-san didn't want to reveal the name to her. The only solution was to continue investigating by herself and trust Tenoh-san to do whatever it took to fix their problem.
"The last years were too good to be true," Shiho admitted in resignation. "I thought they've already forgotten about him."
"They haven't, and they never will." Tenoh-san gave a dry, humourless laugh. "Paranoia is always more powerful than conscience. One day, a big name will wake up from a nightmare and realize that Seiya can ruin everything they're living for within the blink of an eye." She smiled at the waitress passing their table, and ordered a non-alcoholic Yellow Bird for Shiho and a second spritz al bitter (with a spoonful less soda than her previous spritz) for herself.
"Let's be realistic about this, koneko-chan, as unpleasant as it is," she gently told Shiho, who remained silent following her gloomy predictions, after the waitress had left. "If they weren't terrified of the aftermath Seiya had prepared for an assassination, they'd have got rid of him and his brothers long ago."
x.
"We could make the most of this predicament and use the backup plan we had for the scenario that everything at Pandora's Box went wrong," Tenoh-san suggested after receiving her second glass of spritz, as Shiho didn't take her bait and reply.
Shiho, who had been raising her white-and-lavender striped drinking straw to her lips, stopped abruptly in the middle of the movement.
"That was then—I'm not even thinking of doing it now!"
It didn't take much to trigger memories of Pandora's Box. And one mental image would always prompt another, for recollections—shy but gregarious creatures—had the tendency to visit Shiho in groups. She lingered for a moment over the memory of Kudo's hands dressing her fresh wound, the sight of the retreating motorboat in the falling dusk, and his promise to return in time…
She was relieved that he couldn't.
What tha hell 's tis s'pposed ta be? Hattori Heiji had been yelling at her against the sound of the crashing waves, pointing at the black cookie box in his hand in disbelief. Tha real Pandora's Box? Ya must be kiddin' me!
"Love can be measured by the amount of sacrifice you're willing to make for it," Tenoh-san, who had traded charm for obnoxiousness in the meantime, declared. "When it came to Kudo's safety, you didn't even hesitate. Now you're only thinking of yourself. This love of yours is completely, unapologetically, selfish."
Whenever she was in a black mood, Tenoh-san couldn't refrain from making disparaging comments about Shiho and Seiya's "love-at-first-sight-thing", as she called it—as if she felt personally threatened by the idea that love, however strong, could end or change. Notwithstanding her many past flirts and her intense platonic love for Chiba-san's wife, Tenoh-san believed in never-ending true love, which was limited to only one partner in the world. A preposterous concept, which Shiho could only understand if she took into consideration Tenoh-san's peculiar bond with Kaioh-san, whose unswerving loyalty and limitless capacity for forgiveness bordered on masochistic self-denial.
"Back then, the situation was different." Shiho nonchalantly sipped her Yellow Bird, whose sweet fruity taste she used to enjoy but no longer does now. The background music, a melodramatic soprano howl accompanied by the usual pulsating bass, was also grating on her nerves. "Kudo only got a chance to live in peace after I left. Seiya, on the other hand, will be in danger with or without me."
"Are you sure?" Tenoh-san fixed her with dark teal eyes, whose turquoise and sea-green specks looked almost hazel in the amber light. Since they had the same eye colour, Shiho, whose mind was wandering, pondered whether her own eyes had turned hazel as well. "What has become of your emphatic 'I need to stay inconspicuous so that no former member of the Organization will recognize me'?"
"That was before I learned about Seiya's family. Nothing can be worse than that! I can't fret about a minor problem when I have an enormous one to worry about."
Shiho cursed herself for mentioning his family background. But to her surprise, Tenoh-san didn't leap at the chance to deliver a sermon.
"Do you want to say that you love him enough to leave him if the situation calls for it?" Preoccupied by her own thoughts, Tenoh-san didn't care that the trap was so transparent it insulted Shiho's intelligence.
"No, I love him enough to stay. Leaving was a mistake. Instead of helping either of us, it only made both of us miserable."
"Do you know why he's staying in New York longer than usual?" Tenoh-san, who had abruptly changed the topic, began to pluck the thorns off the rose in the peacock-blue vase while studying Shiho with thoughtful eyes brightened by a glint of victory.
"He says Taiki-san needs help with the new screenplay." Shiho flashed her an irritated look. Tenoh-san had just twisted the knife in the wound, as Seiya usually flew home as soon as he could but didn't seem eager to return to her this time. "If you want to imply that he has started an affair there, I'll tell you beforehand that I don't believe you."
"There is no affair, at least no romantic one." Tenoh-san pursed her lips in distaste. "No, we both know that he isn't likely to have affairs—he doesn't have the time to." Joggling her spritz so that the ice cubes clinked against each other in a cheerful rhythm, she paused for effect. "He was attacked by a group of men on the way to his brothers' studio, so I learned from an informant," she continued in a more serious tone. "No injuries—at least not on himself, since both Taiki and Yaten, who weren't in the best of moods after the bad morning practice session, were in the vicinity. I think Seiya needs a few days to nurse his attackers and grill them about their client's names before he can return to you and pretend that everything is fine."
She would strangle him with his own hair when he came back—Shiho murmured, taken aback by the fact that she hadn't suspected anything despite having lived with him for so long. Seiya had sounded perfectly natural on the phone, telling her anecdotes of the theatre and mocking Yaten-san's giant collection of cosmetics, which drove Taiki-san insane because his narcissistic older brother would monopolize their bathroom for at least an hour every time he visited it.
"Maybe you're right that he will be in danger with or without you," Tenoh-san poked at the artist trading card on the table with her long, slender fingers. "But you can't deny that you make him more vulnerable and that he has to pass up great chances to be with you."
"What has he passed up?" Shiho, who had begun to feel faint, shoved her mocktail away.
"There have been extremely lucrative offers from many different film studios. Hasn't he told you about them?" After a pause to let the information sink in, Tenoh-san continued in a softer tone, "In Shizuka-san's opinion, you're stealing a once-in-a-generation talent from the public by chaining him to you. Seiya has to stay away from anything which separates him from you for too long or puts you under the spotlight. The last thing he did for you was rejecting Hollywood and Broadway in favour of a few lousy underpaid weeks at La Fenice."
"I don't know anything about it." Shiho retrieved her Yellow Bird to crush both her slice of orange and her spiral of lime garnish with her spoon, ready to kill Tenoh-san for telling her the truth and Seiya for telling her lies. "He told me he was considering a comeback with his brothers and didn't have time for more demanding roles. He has only agreed to sing at La Fenice because he has already studied the part of the Phantom before. And he said he liked the director…"
"He has already turned down the comeback offer, according to Shizuka-san. There are two high-budget Hollywood remakes of Three Lights' live actions, in which Seiya could have played the leading role: the Red Ninja, and Young Sherlock Holmes, since Akane-sama insisted that Taiki play Young Moriarty this time. He threw away both chances—for whose sake, we can all imagine! Shizuka-san would have talked to you in person if she hadn't feared that he'd never want to see her again afterwards."
The attractive waitress brought them a new plate of olives and a bowl of potato chips—the usual snacks for the spritz—and flushed at Tenoh-san when Tenoh-san gave her a little wink. Hazily, Shiho wondered whether the waitress would still be so taken by Tenoh-san if she knew Tenoh-san's real sex. It wasn't unlikely, as many women had doubted and redefined their sexual orientation after meeting Tenoh Haruka.
"Even if you weren't ruining his career—don't look at me like that, you know you do—this has been doomed to failure right from the start. Your relationship lacks a solid foundation since it's built on a lie. Or on your economical handling of the truth, if you object to be called a liar." Tenoh-san pushed the bowl of potato chips towards Shiho, who declined. "If Seiya marries you and learns about our secret some day—someone will always talk—he will go through hell during a divorce! You know he hates the paperwork just as much as you hate the publicity."
"The solution is simple." Shiho made an effort to keep her face impassive. "We aren't going to marry."
Tenoh-san was visibly appalled by Shiho's obstinacy.
"And how long, do you think, will this situation last? Seiya loves kids. I'm sure that he will want to have his own some day. You two can't raise children together under these circumstances. This is a ticking bomb! You're stealing his time."
As Shiho didn't respond, Tenoh-san pressed on: "In a few months, you're going to see Kudo again—"
"I don't know whether it will be possible after this." Shiho gave the trading card, which was sandwiched between the plate of olives and the bowl of potato chips, a hateful look. "If we don't solve this problem by December, I'll have to postpone our Beika trip. I don't want to get Kudo and the Professor into trouble."
Tenoh-san impatiently waved the interruption away.
"When you meet Kudo again, old feelings are likely to reemerge—"
"That ship sailed a long time ago," Shiho coldly put her straight. "I'm not interested!"
She had grown accustomed to their correspondence, in which they never trod on the boundaries of friendship (although his emails sounded at times oddly flirtatious), and the conviction that he would always stay the most important influence on her without ever being able to throw her emotions into turmoil again. Apart from the secret she had to keep from Seiya and the danger the trading card had caused them, she liked her present life as it was—a quiet, reclusive life with occupations which gave her satisfaction even though she didn't earn much, a few good friends in Beika, whom she was going to see again in a few months, and an amiable life partner, whom she loved and who loved her.
If you had cared enough about someone to give up your life for their sake, your feelings for them would never die, Tenoh-san asserted. It was only a question of time and circumstances until they returned. "Don't you think that it will hurt Seiya more if you leave him for another man than if you just leave him now? He deserves better than what you can give! You've already stolen four years of his life in which he could have recovered from the separation, fallen in love anew, and marry someone else. Don't stay with him just because it's so comfortable."
"Have you ever considered that it's exactly what I don't want him to do?" Shiho took a potato chip from the bowl and balanced an olive on it. "Maybe I'm staying with him because I can't leave!" She ate the potato chip and the olive in quiet defiance, deciding to treat the matter as lightly as possible.
She could leave him since she had already done it more than once, Tenoh-san insisted. She only needed to stay away for a few months until the feelings had died down. "I'm sorry if you've become too attached. But what you do for Seiya is absolutely nothing compared to what he has to give up for you." To turn it up a notch (she had always had a weakness for the dramatic), Tenoh-san added solemnly, "If you don't leave him by the end of this year and join me for our 'emergency measures', I'm going to end it for you two."
If Tenoh-san were another person, Shiho would have thought the warning to be a product of sadism or the twisted desire to control, which would have rendered it harmless, for Tenoh-san would only lose her power over Shiho and endanger herself after carrying out her threat. However, Shiho knew Tenoh-san well enough to believe that Tenoh-san sincerely tried to help at the cost of harming herself. Tenoh-san's generosity, in its extraordinary excessiveness, was infinitely more menacing than sadism.
"I wonder why you can't see how insufferable your games are." Shiho morosely watched the last ice cubes melt in her glass and, for unknown reason, was suddenly reminded of Seiya's carefree laugh when he claimed that he would still like her even if she had tested poisons on annoying colleagues. "You put so much pressure on others that, someday, someone is going to snap!"
"I wouldn't tell you the truth if I didn't care about you." Tenoh-san leaned over the table until Shiho could discern her fragrance, a confusing mixture of white musk and wild rose exuding sweetness and warmth, mingled with the dry, bitter scent of Campari. "I thought we were on the same page when you went with Seiya to Venice. I told you that it was only a question of time until it ends, when you were done with the cure and I returned the screwdriver to you. You claimed that you knew what you were doing and that you only wanted to enjoy your time here without having great expectations. So, who is playing games with whom?"
Struck by the realization that Tenoh-san had never intended to leave Seiya and her alone and that, Machiavellian as she had always been, Tenoh-san had been determined to destroy their relationship after Shiho finished the cure at the latest, Shiho tightened her grip on her glass, blinking back tears of rage at the betrayal.
Tenoh-san reached out and gently touched the small bracelet on Shiho's wrist, her rich contralto voice tender and full of concern. "Did you really believe that this could miraculously work out in the end?" Her deep eyes, whose colour shifts between teal blue and hazel in the flickering candlelight, grew warm and melancholic as they tried to capture Shiho's gaze. "We both know that the world isn't a stage—and Romeo and Juliet is only a play."
"It's time to end our date now that you've worked yourself up into your psycho-mode!" Shiho angrily fished for her purse. Thoroughly sick of Tenoh-san's condescending attitude and tedious abstractions, she began to miss Seiya, who was pleasantly uncomplicated by comparison.
"Don't, koneko-chan!" Tenoh-san stopped her with an imperious flick of her wrist. "I'll pay."
They were past the stage of bickering about whose turn it was to pay for their drinks and meals, and Shiho mourned their on-again, off-again friendship, which had been constantly eroded by Tenoh-san's belief that she was entitled to decide over other people's lives for them.
"Have you thought of Kaioh-san?" Shiho made a last attempt to change Tenoh-san's mind. "What's going to happen to her if you really go through with your plan?"
"I'm always thinking of her," Tenoh-san coolly retorted. "I'm thinking of her—her music and her painting career—and of our little princess, who should be allowed to live the rest of her life without this Pandora's Box mess!" That's why they had to do whatever was needed to keep them safe, Tenoh-san asserted. The two of them should also make the best of the situation and use the chance to turn the world into a better place than it was now.
The same words as Gin's—years ago, when Shiho was young and naive and still believed in grand utopian dreams, especially when they came from his lips. Beholding Tenoh-san's unruly white-blonde bangs, which were starting to fall into her eyes, it hit Shiho that darkness was lurking in the most noble minds, taking over as soon as self-indulgence coloured one's own perception.
"It's you who has changed since Pandora's Box," Shiho remarked, for once abandoning herself to nostalgia. "Back then you only tried to protect the people you loved and take revenge on the seven crows. Now that you're accustomed to playing hero, you carelessly wreck other people's lives for your utopia."
"It's odd that you scorn utopias so much when your own boyfriend's name alludes to them." Tenoh-san smiled, switching from being unbearably preachy to being unbearably charming as quickly as the wind changed its character.
"Apparently, it's not his name I'm in love with," Shiho pointed out.
"Don't be such a dope and nurture forlorn hopes," Tenoh-san slowly shook her head. "I've known him for longer than you—in case you've forgotten. Seiya is extremely protective about the people he loves. He is never going to forgive us for what we've done."
Hope could be either the greatest blessing or the greatest evil from Pandora's Box, for it calmed and inspired as well as it tortured and mocked—Tenoh-san philosophized, drank up her spritz, and casually took apart her orange zest twist. But hope, as dangerous as it was, was also indispensable.
Perhaps it wasn't her but Shiho, who had forgotten that stars were but untouchable to human hands. An invaluable guide in the darkness, the light they emitted came from a faraway place, which was separated from our world by space and time.
You could be tempted to believe that you only needed to climb a mountain and reach out to catch one in your hand, Tenoh-san concluded. But you should be sensible enough to know that this hope was ultimately deceptive.
"Do you know what Van Gogh said about this?" She indicated the brightest star on the card and, instinctively, touched the gold cross around her neck. "Just as we take the train to Tarescon or Rouen, we need death to reach a star."
x.
