Monochrome
You go there nearly every night these days, the railing on the roof of the building we live in. I see you there if I come home late, but I don't think you ever realize I'm watching you. You look so lonely high up in the sky, almost like an angel trapped in the dark. That's what you are to me—an wingless angel, lofty and unattainable, completely above my understanding. Lately, curiosity has gotten the better of me and I've been following you to your sanctuary, hoping to learn something about you that would shed some light on your mysterious ways. As of yet, I've had no luck, but I keep clinging to the slight chance that tonight I'll know why it is you feel the need to escape from the world every night.
I'm standing at the top of the stairs, at the exit out into the sky, hesitating for a reason I can't place. Maybe I should leave you be. There must be some reason you're alone…. Despite my better judgment, I take a few uncertain steps in the direction of where you're standing, expecting you to sense me instantly. But you don't take any notice of my presence, otherwise I would be pinned to the ground with a knife to my throat by now. You may be an angel, but a dangerous one. Your back is turned to me, so I approach very slowly. I'm not taking any chances of snapping the thin thread holding our friendship together--it was by no small miracle that you agreed to live with me. Every single morning I wake up wondering if you're still here or if you slipped out during the night, gone forever.
I come up to the railing, staying a safe distance away and light a cigarette before risking a glance in your direction. It's just barely dark outside, a bit past twilight when everything is cast in shades of gray. You are kneeling with your arms dangling over the railing, a faintly sad expression touching your features. Your pale skin is vaguely luminescent in the quickly fading light and the rising moon reflects in your half-closed eyes. The only bit of color left is the tint of crimson in the hair floating across your eyes on the breeze. You look just as amazing, if not more so, in monochrome as you do in the sun. I wish I could tell you that, but it wouldn't make any difference…. You'd just scowl and tell me I've had too much to drink. I know you hate yourself; it's obvious in every movement, in every disregard for your own well being, in the barely visible scars on your wrists.
Working up enough courage to venture your name takes all the mental strength I can muster. It seems a sin to break you reverie, but I have to know. "…Aya…?"
You don't respond immediately, making me wonder if perhaps you hadn't heard me. When you finally do speak, your voice is so soft it seems to drift away on the wind and I have to listen closely to hear. "Does your life have a purpose, Yoji…?"
The question takes me completely by surprise—you're not usually one to discuss life motivations with anyone, not even close friends.
"Well…I…."
"I don't think I do anymore…. I feel empty inside…useless…." The quiet words falling from you lips send a slight chill to my heart.
"You have your sister."
"I'm no good for her…. I'm tainted, there's no real humanity left…. I don't fit anymore…."
"Aya…." I want to say more, but I know that's not what you're asking of me. You only need someone to listen to you.
With a small sigh you continue talking, "…I suppose that is my name now…. I can't seem to go back to being 'Ran' after all this time…. That person is dead—I've changed far too much…." You stand slowly and trace your fingertips lightly across the metal rail, looking past your slender, white hand to the abyss between buildings. Somewhere below there is the sound of an ignition catching, and the dull whine of an engine pulling away. Looking over, I know exactly what you're thinking; the vertigo and sorrowful night breeze is making you want to jump into that shadowy pit. Your body sways forward, one foot mechanically resting on the ledge while you lean your hips against the bar. Your face holds a blank, sleepy expression, as if this whole action was only a gray dream. More calmly than I feel, I rest my hands on your waist, giving you a safe anchor against the beckoning darkness.
"Aya, you can't fly…." Questioning eyes meet mine as I pull you closer to me. Without a second though at all, I find myself leaning forward to kiss those soft lips of yours. This may be the biggest mistake of my life, but it's much too late to take it back. After a moment, I pull back and slip my arms gently around you.
"What if I were to give you a reason?" I'm not expecting an answer, or indeed any response at all, but when you relax against me and rest your head on my shoulder, it was more than I had ever hoped. The monochrome evening fades to black, with just a hint of red in the corner of my vision, brightening the darkness.