CHAPTER VIII

/play Queen - Killer Queen

…

Mondays can be an absolute torture, an opening for another week of toil and suffering. The past few days for me are completely loaded with duties that needed to be fulfilled, schedules nearing deadlines, an illicit scheme that needed to succeed, and a certain fire queen that found happiness in adding to my list of pains-in-the-arse. I could spare barely a minute of my time to anyone else, and it's not like I needed to interact with my peers in class. Everyone resented me due to my newfound privileges, courtesy of the professor who pitied my "situation".

While everyone was learning mechanical engineering and physics, I was on my notebook, scribbling notes and calculations, but not of the lesson before me. In my mind, I was preoccupied with keeping a gun robbery scheme afloat, making sure I wasn't cheated of loans, and the hot goods entrusted to me were being fenced properly. It's good business. I didn't even notice how the day finished quickly, and soon I was heading for the gate. It's like I'm living on fast-forward. The sky was turning into a brilliant shade of orange by now, and the students were streaming out of the gate in small groups. Good for these people, they get to hang out with friends and enjoy youth. I'm not jealous, in fact I'm getting my own share of entertainment in the company of a pretty girl who, albeit volatile, never failed to amuse me.

I'm walking out of the gate and waiting for the street signal to display the red crossing figure. Cars were passing by, and there weren't so many people standing around. There's this group of tough looking guys who were smoking right in front of the school. The nerves of these guys. They look like - or at least try to look like gangsters but I'll bet they're nothing but a bunch of good for nothing hooligans. "Oh, good… I wonder what'll people say of our university," I mutter to myself, glancing at the shameless students. "What a fine way to go, smoking right in front of the school." The police aren't doing anything about that. But these guys are smoking cigarettes, and in a way that makes me feel a little bit more satisfied. Smoking is actually healthy… for the planet. Because it kills humans. Keeps the gene pool clean, weeds out the stupid.

I must have been thinking out loud, and I noticed this pretty girl beside me. She's looking at me right now, probably because she thought I was talking to her. For some reason, I felt like she was somehow familiar to me… her soft brown hair fell down to her waist, and her honey-colored eyes were alluring. "Are you… talking to me?" She shyly asked.

"Oh no, not you. I was having a go at them," I pointed to the group of delinquents who were now walking away.

We both look at each other for a few more moments, but I simply shrug and begin to turn around. "Senpai, stop ignoring me. I know you recognize me!" She cried at me.

"No, I don't think so," I jokingly say, and walk across the street and in the direction of the Grandeur nightclub. But she follows me up to the next turn on the street. I know who she is alright. Iroha Isshiki, the current student council vice-president of our university. Usually, she's very talkative with other people but there's a running gag between us; she tries to mimic my gloomy personality, just to mock me. I make fun of her as "cute". You think it's flattering, but when you get called cute, it means you're funny, like a joke.

I look back at her and furrow my eyebrows. She has a smug look on her face that I can't put my finger on. Maybe she wants me to help her in student council matters again. "Oh, great. Show it some attention and it follows you home," I mutter.

I made a turn and accelerated into a fast walk until I was sure that I had lost her in the downtown of Chiba. That was a bit rude, wasn't it? But I really didn't need any more involvement with more people. Now, where was I? I still have a shift later this evening, so I'd better sit myself down at a café and study for the upcoming written tests. I was going to do just that, but perhaps today I was blessed with extra luck - or misfortune - as I suddenly ran into Miura.

"What are you doing here?" She asks.

"I should be the one asking you that," I say.

Miura probably finished class earlier and was now on her usual way to frolic in the city. Today was not a day for the two of us to hang out, and I wasn't in the mood. My head would begin to numb if I had to juggle several problems at once, and I wanted to just be alone for an hour or two. But she had other plans, and took me to dinner. She said it was her treat.

We sit down at a booth in a diner and the waitress approaches to take our orders. This wasn't Saizeriya but it seemed just as successful. I was in no mood to eat, even if Miura was willing to pay. Now that I've thought of it, this was the first time we went to a restaurant like we were on a date. Sure, I'd have fed her on our second meeting and we both indulged in the burger joint during our time at the amusement park, but this was our first "dinner date".

"Your orders, sir? Miss?" The waitress patiently asked.

"Grape-nuts," I say.

The woman hums to herself, while Miura stares at me, puzzled. She then orders a cup of tea. In a minute, the waitress comes back and sets down a small bowl, a pitcher of milk and my box of Grape-nuts. For Miura, she sets down her cup of Lipton green tea. We both glance at each other in silence for a while until she starts.

"Why'd you order Grape-nuts?" She asks.

"Why'd you order just tea?"

"Because you ordered Grape-nuts."

"I ordered Grape-nuts because I didn't want there to be any mistaking this for a date," I explained.

"Um… it can still be a date if you order Grape-nuts, y'know..." Miura blushes slightly, letting the sugar fall from her teaspoon and into her cup gradually like the sand in an hourglass.

"It's not a date. You wanna share this?" I nudge the bowl of cereal towards her. An ironic gesture, considering my previous statement. Grape-nuts doesn't really contain any grapes, and I don't think nuts are a major ingredient in it… it looks like coarse cornmeal, and I have it for breakfast often. I think I'm pissing Miura off big time, but she doesn't show. She takes the bowl gratefully and brings a spoonful into her mouth.

"How's your thing… dancing thing going?" I say, trying to break the silence.

"It's okay, I guess. How's your job?"

She looks at me, and I notice she's spooning the Grape-nuts vigorously, as if it was her first meal in days. It was cute how her lips pouted when she chewed… isn't it strange how women avoid ordering for themselves while on a date, but then begin to start on your food? All of a sudden, you find her eating away at your appetizer… then your main course… and then the drinks are gone. But I don't really have to feel bad with her eating my bowl of cereal.

"Alright," I say. I guess it's alright, having to deal with drunken men, breaking up fights, plotting a scheme involving stolen guns, and trying not to get on the wrong side of the police…

I didn't want to tell her where the nightclub I worked in was, because I really did not need her to show up without warning or worse, drink alcohol and compel me to care for her again. Thankfully, she didn't insist.

"Where's your sis?" She asked me.

"Komachi doesn't go to Chiba University."

"Where then?"

"She's in the U.S. now," I finally say, looking out into the streets. My mind was somewhere else. "They're all over there."

"You're alone?" Miura looks surprised.

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"It's neither a good thing. So, what happened? They left you here to dry?"

I don't think Miura is being sarcastic, but I don't mind. "Something like that," I chuckled.

"They chose Komachi-chan over you, huh," she says. "That's how it is with younger siblings. One day you're hot stuff, the next, you're kicking the curb."

She has a point, but I don't like it. I don't think anyone likes to be told the bitter truth, even if they need it.

"What do you know? You're a single child. You get everything you want. You don't know what it's like to be treated with indifference," I say.

I guess my words fly at her like precise little darts, hitting each of their marks. She remains quiet for a bit and looks down. After a while, she comes up with something clever to say again, and she thinks she can relate with me.

"You're not always like this, are you?" She quietly asks.

"Like what?"

"Antisocial, bitter, edgy…" Miura continues, and I force myself to bear listening to her listing off my negative qualities. Well, thank you for reminding me of my flaws.

Then she says, "I'm guessing it's not just your classmates who ostracized you. Maybe your parents were harsh on you as well, and that's why you don't like people. I figured a kid is just like a puppy… if you don't treat it right, it'll either run away or grow into something bad."

I laugh at her analogy, crossing my arms.

"Well, if that was true, then I would've run away when I was seven. Far back as I can remember, dad took the belt to me. Big old welts so raw, I could hardly pull my shirt on. I stuck around, I didn't have anyplace else to go. I turned out, didn't I?"

"Turned out how?" She asks.

I could sense the boldness growing in her, and my patience is nearing the edge. I just let myself frown and look at Miura, wondering where she's going with this. Maybe I looked mad or sounded mad, because she flinched.

"Are you trying to be smart with me, Miura?" I say.

"No… just asking how you turned out, for someone who was beat since he was seven. I feel sorry, that's what I feel."

She doesn't look me in the eye. I breathed, sipping on a glass of water.

"Well don't go wasting your sorry on me," I muttered. "Nobody ever felt sorry for me, and I never felt sorry for anyone else. Sympathy is something I can do without."

I knew I was overlooking a lot of things. There were people who I suppose did care for me, and I returned the sentiments. Yuigahama was a friend of mine, and Yukinoshita… but love does more harm than good. It is difficult to achieve menáge á trois in a relationship, and being forced to choose… still, the ability to decide is powerful. Not making a decision is a big decision. Say what you will, perhaps I was too much of a coward to decide. Sentimentality has only brought trouble to me, and I am relieved to be rid of High school life once and for all. I hope I never see any more familiar faces, because the past is history.

Youth has always been a lie. That was the truth I believed. And what if it wasn't the truth? I don't think it matters anymore. I have far bigger things in life to stress over than the truth about youth, and I don't think I can spare a damn to find out at the moment.

"Of all the flavours there is, you choose to be bitter," she chuckles.

I shrugged. "I don't mean to sound cold, bitter, or cruel, but I am. So that's how it turns out."

Miura suddenly asks, "can I show you something?"

I just nod, and I'm not sure what she means. We're sitting opposite to each other, and she leans closer before showing me her arm. She pulls back the sleeves of her sweater, revealing her pale skin. There were faint lines drawn across it. Scars, and it looked like they were from cut wounds. I don't know if I'm supposed to be surprised, mortified or worried, but I just raised an eyebrow as I stared at her exposed arm, and then at her face. She looked apprehensive on how I would react.

"I… used to cut myself," she says.

"Why would you do that?" I asked.

"I wasn't always the popular girl in class… people avoided me, and I just felt so alone."

I just stared at her silently.

There was something about what she said that just plunged me into deep thought. I couldn't believe it. Here was this girl who's got it all: good looks, a wealthy family, and even a degree of intelligence. It's only fair that there'll be people who'll try to bring her down. It doesn't make sense. Did she think harming herself would boost her popularity? Well, I can't argue with that logic because it actually does work. Make yourself look pitiful so people will act nice and try to comfort you. And if so, then killing yourself must surely be the ultimate way to gain attention. In fact I can assure you that at the moment of your death, that is the point where people hold you in the highest regards. You actually get more flowers at your funeral than you have received in your entire life. If you haven't noticed, people like you a lot better when you're dead.

Boy, I sure hope I wasn't thinking out loud… if someone were to read my thoughts, they'd probably throw me in an asylum. I feel sorry for all these suicide people, but don't get me wrong, I'm still glad they do it; I find it highly entertaining. It certainly qualifies as drama: an irreversible act that puts a permanent end to your consciousness. That's a big decision, you'd better be thinking clearly. That's probably the most interesting thing you can do with life: end it. Look, I'm not a psychopath. What can I do? It's fucked up, but that's how I think. My brain has a mind of its own after all.

Miura was still there staring at me hopefully, with her deep green eyes. "Why would you show me that?" I ask.

"You're sort of like me, y'know..." She says.

"'Sort of like you'?… I do hope to god you didn't go around telling people that."

"Why?"

"Look, I'm just wondering… have you ever thought about killing yourself?"

That was as blunt and as insensitive of a question as it can get, but there wasn't any other way to put it. I wasn't mocking her, I am genuinely curious to know. But I probably worded it in the worst way possible. Miura stared at me with a nervous expression, and looked away.

"What if I have?" She muttered.

"Well, why haven't you?"

She looked shocked for a moment. "Because I don't really want to die. Is that not obvious?"

"Did you really think cutting yourself will solve your problems?"

"Don't act like you're all holier-than-thou with me," she angrily says to me.

"I'm not. Do what you want to do."

Miura looked like she couldn't believe what I just said. Did she expect that I was going to pretend to understand her and try to play it nice? I'm not going to stop her. That's right. I'm not going to say, "you're a wonderful person. You mean a lot to everyone. Don't harm yourself." It's pretentious. It's bullshit. But I'm not going to sugarcoat my opinions about her. She looked hurt and humiliated.

"I'm not going to pretend like I'm your friend, that I understand you clearly, because I don't. And I'm not your friend. I'm just sticking around until you've moved on from your ex and find another guy again. And after all that stuff you just told me… we're nothing alike," I say.

I try to explain, but somehow, I knew I messed up real bad. For a moment, she looked like she was about to cry, and then she lowered her eyes in embarrassment. When she looked up again, her glare meant something else. It was sharp and icy, far more serious than I'd ever seen her. "You're saying that I'm crazier than you." She says coldly.

"What?" I stifled a treacherous smile from forming on my lips. What the hell was wrong with me? "Because… well, I mean, you and I are different- " I attempt to rephrase myself but she swiftly cuts me off.

"Oh my God. Ugh… you're sick." She frowns at me, her eyes slowly tearing up, "you know what? Forget everything I just said. Forget that I even fucking opened up to you. 'Cause just trying to be friends always has an ulterior motive, eh? Being friends with me must be a fucking insane idea because I am so much crazier than you."

"Keep your voice down," I whisper, but she doesn't even notice.

She does the complete opposite and her voice rises into a yell. "Forget about it! I'm just the crazy bitch who can't get over her ex!" She screams at me.

"Shut the fuck up!" I hissed at her. Everyone was now looking at us… I could feel vicious stares drilling into me, which makes me just want to disappear in a cloud of smoke… I don't know if I'm ever going to be used to attracting unwanted attention, but when you're a woman, you can get away with these kinds of shit. Miura chokes back a tear, crying again and cursing me.

At that moment I knew, I messed up. I told you I was patient, but she's acting like a child, so she'll get treated like a child! But now, I knew that was all it took to send her into a frenzy. We both snapped right there. She cursed at me and swiped the table, making the now empty bowl of Grape-nuts fly off and shatter with a wonderful crash, as she stood up and stormed out of the place. Everyone gasps, shocked, while I wince in shame and apprehension. I ruined it all, and I made so many mistakes… women are very tricky creatures… It's like defusing a freaking bomb! If I let her get away, she'll probably murder me next time… or worse, I'll never see her again. Both are not options so I run after her, but not before leaving the bill on the table. Keep the change as compensation, and pardon us for the trouble!

I should give her the benefit of doubt and not label her off as crazy… because I really think she could wreak havoc on anything, given the proper motivation and reason… if she wasn't so stupid or aggressive, she would be a fine sociopath. I'm thinking that Miura is most likely bipolar - there are instances when she shows extreme softness and vulnerability, before shifting into a manic and aggressive state. Now, I'll just have to watch out and adapt accordingly, because I'm not a fortune teller and she is unpredictable. She's walking away fast down the street, and I catch up to her.

"Miura, hey. Come on, look, I don't think you're crazy, alright?" I hurry beside her.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

She violently pushes me off the curb, making me stagger a bit. She was stifling a sob, not looking at me. "I can see it in your eyes. You think I'm inferior to you, and you're treating me like some problem kid. You're just putting up until you can finally get rid of me," she says to me tearfully.

"Can I just explain myself? I didn't want people associating me with that kind of… behavior, because I've never done anything like… that," I speak carefully, trying not to screw up even more, "and you sure as hell do not want to be associated with someone like me. Look, I'm already an outcast at the university, so I don't want to affect you as well, okay?"

She wipes away her tears with her grey sleeves, holding her arms close to her chest.

"I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I just want to be honest with mine," I say.

"No, you're not being honest," she says, looking through me, "you're just being mean."

Her words carved into me, and reminded me of a certain memory…

"You may not have experienced the shit that I did. But you found it amusing, didn't you? You think it's funny when people show weakness, because you yourself don't open up at all. You're a conformist. You're a liar. I opened up to you, and you judged me. You're an asshole."

She must've wanted to leave me right there and then. I remained silent, because she's right. Finally, we've shown our true colors. This either shatters this charade of a relationship and separates us for good, or maybe… maybe we'll finally have a genuine relationship in the form of enmity. Based on hatred and contempt, but a relationship no less.

I watched Miura start to walk farther and farther away, and I felt lightheaded. She sees that I have the same look her "friends" gave her to show that they cared, when the truth is that they couldn't give a damn about her. It really wasn't my intention to offend her. But trying to pretend being nice insulted her, who hated superficiality more than a bad character itself.

I remembered watching Yukinoshita walk away and disappear into the airport for the last time. She promised to message me from time to time, but every week, her texts became fewer… her words condensed into no more than a sentence, lacking warmth or affection. Being the feeling-lucky young man I was, I didn't notice until it was too late, and she stopped talking to me at all. I haven't heard from her since the first year of college. If there was one thing that I've learned, it's that when your text conversations start to die out, her replies become more distant and apathetic.

"Hey…" I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I looked up to see Miura giving me a concerned look.

She wasn't crying anymore, but her eyes were red and her cheeks were flushed. I thought she left… I was inwardly relieved that she didn't. I didn't notice I was leaning against a wall as if I was about to croak anytime soon. My vision was hazy, and I felt like just lying down on the streets and sleeping. "You look pale," she says, "are you okay?"

"Yeah… I'm alright. Just a bit dizzy," I say. She kept a hand on my right arm as we walked down the street towards the train station. This was an awfully long day, and I felt exhausted. Miura's words still lingered in my mind, tormenting me.

I started telling her about how things grew cold between me and Yukino, and how I try not to think of that… and everytime I do, I feel sick. The real reason why we didn't work out is because Yukino is a wealthy, prestigious girl, and I'm a nobody. Rather, it was her parents who discouraged the relationship. It was only logical. You don't let your daughter marry a guy who doesn't have anything to show for.

I don't know what's it worth, telling other people your stories… maybe I hoped she would make fun of that, and then we're even. But she didn't. She just quietly listened. I told her that one of my biggest fears was being left behind by the people who I had come to love. Quite ironic coming from a guy who says he doesn't need anyone else. But it's not being left behind that's what I fear, it's when they leave you without a conclusion. The worse is that she left me without a proper goodbye or even a simple "I don't love you anymore." And that leaves me with a dreadful feeling of hope.

"There's no excuse that I'm an asshole," I say, looking away in shame. "I don't mean to be, but I am. So that's how I come off."

After a while, she looks at me and says, "I don't care if you're a complete asshole… let's be completely honest with each other… even if it'll hurt."

I paused, then finally nodded.

"Agreed."

"Hey… I won't leave you behind, okay? But promise me… you won't leave me too..."

Maybe I am sort of like her. She too didn't want to be left behind. At the end of our High school life, most relationships have been finally revealed. And a whole lot of them turned out to be façades, superficialities and short-lived ties. Everyone drifted apart, but some still wanted to remain close with their friends. "I promise," I say to her, but I do hope that I'm not lying to myself. I don't know how far both of us will get… here we are, a sociopath and a probably bipolar person. A rich girl and me; a nobody. This isn't going to end well. It certainly wasn't the greatest pairing in the book, but maybe it'll work… but I promised that I wasn't going to abandon Miura when she needs me the most.

"So..." I quietly start, "you still wanna be, uh… friends?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she smiles, all traces of sadness or anger disappearing.

Her smile was contagious. I found my cheeks heating up… what's this, my lips are grinning on their own? This is embarrassing. I think in every relationship, people ought to have a good fight or an argument. It's no fun living a 'happily ever after' situation. Besides, adversity challenges the bonds you have with each other. You'll see how brittle, or how strong the relationship really is.