Chapter I
I looked up as the loudspeaker crackled
to life. "That's my flight!" I announced, jumping up and grabbing my duffel
bag. I glanced at my teammates and gave them one last sad smile, "I guess
this is it guys… see ya."
Yanagi sniffed, "Ooh Fuuko…" She
burst into tears and hugged me tightly, for the last time.
For the last time.
I was leaving Tokyo. Why? I really
don't know… I just had this feeling. A deep yearning inside me to go away,
go to places I had only heard about and dreamt of. I wanted to live dangerously,
risk everything, free of my protection in Tokyo.
I embraced Yanagi with equal strength,
"Hey Yanagi… it's not the end of the world. I'll write to ya guys! I promise!"
I looked at them all, trying to memorize every detail of their faces. It
was probably going to be the last time I was going to see them all.
Recca Hanabishi was studying to take
over his father's business someday. He has changed considerably since the
Uro Butousatsojin. He had grown taller, he had become more matured, he
even threw away the band-aid on his cheek. A few months ago, he had proposed
to Yanagi, and of course, she had accepted. He gave me a small smile and
punched my shoulder affectionately. "Good luck."
Sakoshita Yanagi was now a teacher
at the neighborhood pre-school. Her long brown hair had lengthened into
wavy locks cascading over her shoulders. Her features had blossomed into
a beautiful young lady's, which made Recca fall head-over-heels in love
with her, moreso. Her eyes were teary, but she smiled widely at me. "Call
us, will you? And you must come to the wedding; you're my maid of honor."
Ishijima Domon, now studying to be
a Physical Education coach. His threatening look diminished slightly as
he grinned at me, "Good luck, kiddo." His hand tightened around Uyashiko
Minato's, his girlfriend's, hand. No more Mohawk for him, said Mina-chan.
And sure enough, he had shaved it off and he was as bald as bald could
get.
Ganko Morisawa and Kaoru Koganei.
They were high school students now, Ganko as a freshman, Kaoru as a senior.
They had certainly grown. I was going to miss their childish laughter.
Kaoru's voice had cracked a few months ago, and his high voice lowered
a few notches to make the girls in his year swoon. Ganko still looked sweet
and innocent and still had that childish flush in her cheek.
Notice someone missing? Yes. Tokiya
Mikagami had literally disappeared. We don't know where he went, he just
told us that he was going away a few months ago, then he vanished. We all
resented him for leaving without even saying goodbye. Even Yanagi felt
betrayed, and mind you, Yanagi has never felt any resentment for any of
us.
My face darkened for a second, remembering
what he had done. But I snapped out of my reverie when the last call came
for the passengers of my flight.
I gave them all a flurry of hugs
and goodbyes, and I turned away without a second glance. I knew that if
I had, I would have crumbled in front of them.
And Kirisawa Fuuko does not crumble.
I boarded the plane and settled into
the soft cushions of my seat.
"… next stop, John F. Kennedy Airport,
New York!" said the intercom.
*****
Three years later…
Hn. How naïve was I then?
I placed a cigarette in between my
fingers, and with the flick of the lighter, it was lit. I inhaled the nicotine
and all the other chemicals that made me feel better, and as I released
my breath, smoke clouds came from my nose. I shuddered. What was I doing
to myself?
I used to be this nice, rather tomboyish
girl from the suburbs of Tokyo. What am I now?
My cropped purple hair had grown
long, into a tangled mess. Okay, if I bothered to comb it, it would look
pretty decent, but hell, who cares? Who would see me anyway? I lived alone
in my own measly apartment down in Brooklyn, the rat capital of the world.
It ain't no home sweet home, but it's all my meager salary could afford.
Yes, I had a job. It wasn't much.
I was just a waitress at a local bar. Not much? Ha! I can't tell you how
many times I've been hit on these past three years. There was even one
guy who tried to get his hands up my skirt. A kick to the groin was all
he needed to back off.
I look at the beat-up old alarm clock
on my side table. "Oh shit." I groan. It was already 7 pm. My shift was
at 7:30. I snarled, as I grabbed my leather jacket off the bed and strode
out the door, without looking back.
The fog greeted me as I stepped out
of the door. Hurriedly locking my door, I walked quickly through three
blocks of slush and ice. Winter in New York was the pits. It wasn't some
Winter Wonderland. Snow usually melted the second it hit the sidewalk.
The only place you could have gone to see snow was in Central park, and
that was a long way from here.
I threw my cigarette down and stepped
on it firmly with my spiked heel, before stepping into the Tiger's Eye.
New York has funny names, I had told myself, the first few days I had stayed
here. Grand Central Station, Bloomingdale's, Fao Schwartz... who the hell
named these buildings?
I nodded casually at my boss, Irvin
Tigers. He was a short man, kinda chubby and grumpy, with thin brown hair
tied back into a ponytail. He had a weird fixation on calling me Missy.
He nodded back, and gave me a look that said, Get over here. Sighing, I
obliged, stepping behind the counter. "What's up?" God even my voice had
changed, from a smooth pitch to a rough timbre.
He jerked his head towards a boisterous,
laughing crowd and handed me a tray with small glasses, called shots, and
two bottles of tequila. "Serve this over at Table Five. They're a buncha
young executives who probably got sumthin' tuh celebrate about, cuz it's
obvious that they've never been drunk before." He shot them a look as the
table erupted with peals of laughter again. "Tell 'em tuh shut their mouths!
They're disturbin' the other customers!" He stormed into the back, muttering
something about, "Buncha beginners... dunno a thing about real drinkin'..."
I sighed once more. "Comin' right
up, boss!" I muttered sarcastically. I balanced the tray in the palm of
my hand and headed towards the table.
"To a Johnny Madison who *hiccup*
single-handedly settled the case!" a man with sandy hair exclaimed, raising
his shot of tequila and downing it in a single gulp. "To Johnny!" The people
repeated joyously. A man with brown hair stood up and gave an exaggerated
bow.
I rolled here eyes and put on a fake
smile and announced, in a falsetto, "Here gentleman. Your drinks." I quickly
arranged the shots in a circle and placed the two bottles in the center.
In doing this, I was lowering my torso, revealing quite a lot of cleavage.
Hey, that was my job. Look available, but don't be available.
"Heyyy... some kinda Oriental chick!"
Sandy Hair said, drawing himself closer to me. I could feel his putrid
breath on my neck, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust. I ran my finger down
his cheek and drew away from him, purring, "Sorry hon, but duty calls,"
I jerked my head in the direction of the bar.
I turned away, but he grabbed onto
my wrist. I was getting pissed. "Excuse me," I snapped, and wrenched my
wrist out of his grip. He stared at me hungrily, "You don't want me?" He
shrugged, "Suit yourself. Why don't I introduce you to my friend here?
He's some kinda Oriental like you too. Maybe you could understand him."
"Arrogant, racist asshole," I muttered
darkly. I clutched the tray tightly as the urge to throw it at his head
overcame my senses.
"Stop it, Dennis," a voice interjected.
"Leave her alone."
As I heard the voice, my ears pricked
up and I shook my head. No way... it couldn't be him... he was long gone...
it was no way that he was here in this very bar, defending me at this very
moment...
"Aww Mikagami! I wuz just foolin'
round..."
But it was him.
My eyes met familiar blue ones, once
glazed with ice and steel, and now melted, jovial and merry. I took in
his familiar features, his straight nose, his extremely handsome, formerly
emotionless face, his smiling lips, his hair... his hair?!? His long gray
locks had been sheared off, cut into a stylish, shaggy do. It was finally
shorter than my own. It was still him.
"Tokiya..." I breathed.
"Fuuko. Kirisawa Fuuko," he whispered,
softly. We looked at each other, until Dennis jostled him. "Ooh... looks
like I hafta tell on you bro!" He cackled. "Vic's gonna be so pissed you're
hitting on a waitress at a bar." He hiccupped and guffawed even louder.
I clenched my fist and stepped forward,
glaring at him menacingly, when Irvin yelled, "Yo Missy! Table Twelve if
you please!" I glared once more at Dennis, glanced back at Tokiya, then
hurried over to table twelve.
As I wrote down the orders of two
gangster-type fellows, my mind wandered to Tokiya. I gave him a quick glance
and saw he was still sitting there, though not looking as ecstatic as a
while ago. Did him seeing me affect him like me seeing him?
I rushed towards the bar to give
the order of two beers. I wanted to ask him that question badly. But as
my head turned to him again, he had vanished.
Again.
I cursed under my breath. I had just
let him slip through my fingers when he was merely a few feet away from
me. My old comrade, one who I haven't seen for a few years. I had so much
to tell him, so much to share with him. About Recca, Yanagi, Domon, Kaoru,
Kagehoushi, Ganko, Kondo... all of them. But even I haven't heard news
from them since Yanagi asked me to come to hers and Recca's wedding a two
years ago, which I politely declined, saying stuff about plans I had made
before then. Bullshit. When I heard the hurt in her voice, I just stammered
a goodbye and put down the phone. I couldn't bear lying. And if I went
and they'd ask me about New York, I couldn't tell them about my misery
lest they insist I move back and I would be telling more lies. I let out
a sigh before scurrying off to another table.
The past was the past, and the present
is now. Sure it was nice seeing that Tokiya was okay and alive and all,
but he was part of my past, as were Yanagi and the others, and I was not
willing to relive it for his sake. But I can't help but think if I have
a future. I didn't think working in a bar would be a future that I wanted.
But it was my only alternative.
Tokyo... I simply can't go back there
and face Yanagi and Recca after missing their wedding. They would be angry
and hurt, and I would have to be forced to tell them about my life here
in the Big City. Then they would start to pity me. And I hate pity.
Let the Fates be, I tell myself.
If they wanted you to see Mikagami again, fine. If they wanted to make
Mikagami disappear again, also fine. I was living my life the way I wanted
it to be lived. And that's all I ever want.
Shit. I hate thinking deeply. I poured
myself a shot of tequila and downed it in one gulp. My vision blurred for
a second, then normalized. I had mastered the art of drinking only a few
months ago, and since then, I'd been drinking a few times to get my mind
off of my problems. I'm not an alcoholic. I don't get drunk on my ass then
stagger home. No. I can drink plenty amounts and still keep my sanity.
That's what I learned from Irv.
I grabbed the beers from the fridge,
and then brought it over to the gangsters. It was gonna be a long night.
