author's note: this one-shot was inspired by the wonderful Ms. Audrey G, author of the work Chocolate. do check it out, it's amazing!
author's note 2: Además, a la amable reseña dejada por la usuaria invitada izabela, ¡quería agradecerles! disculpe cualquier error en este mensaje, estoy usando un traductor. Estoy muy contento de que hayas disfrutado de mi trabajo, y sin duda consideraré continuar con este, ya que este concepto también es interesante para mí. ¡Aprecio mucho tus amables palabras!
english translation of author's note 2: also, to the kind review left by guest user izabela, i wanted to say thank you! please pardon any mistakes in this message, i am using a translator. i am very glad you enjoyed my work, and i'll certainly consider continuing this, as this concept is interesting to me as well. i appreciate your kind words very much!
Kotoko looked beautiful, even if the mirror in her hand was slightly chipped, broken. Her skin was blemish-free, thanks to the sharp decline of sweets in her diet. It is unlike Kotoko to do something like that — rule out desserts entirely. It is a drastic change in her mostly predictable life.
Ever since she'd said farewell to the Irie family, packed her bags and left with her father, things have grown mundane.
Boring.
The pearl necklace on her neck is heavy, a constant reminder of the event she's about to attend. It is not like she is scared, no, there is no reason to fear anything.
It is only the birthday of the newly-wed — Sahoko.
All Kotoko needs to do is show her face. It is not like she will be the main topic of discussion.
No. Of course not.
She is old news, to those interested in Irie's relationships and to Irie himself. It is not like Irie will care for her presence, not like he ever has. Kotoko had thought that was just who he was, just his natural state of being — for some are more reserved than others — but she had soon realized that Irie's cordiality, Irie's kindness, did not extend to her.
It is odd, Kotoko thinks, reminiscing on the past as she walks out the warmth of her home and into the cold. The evening is frigid — Sahoko was born in the dead of winter — but Kotoko has a scarf hiding her necklace and a thick cardigan on. It is not apart of her outfit, but in a way, the black color of the cardigan and the deep-red color of the scarf mix together, create an outfit of their own.
A cozy but homely sort of look.
Terribly unfit for the party.
She spins back around, heads back inside.
Kotoko decides to remove at least one of them. She decides to take off the cardigan; it would appear bulky and strange in such a setting, though she does not even know the dress code.
Whatever. Now that Kotoko's gotten a feel for the temperature outside, she knows that she can face the cold, long as she keeps her scarf on, doesn't lose it.
Kotoko takes some time to think before she enters the house she knows all too well. She has not visited since she left, no, because she has had no reason to visit. Irie's parents, bless their hearts, have invited her to drop in, time after time, utterly unbeknownst to the unpleasant tension that is still ever-present between her and their son.
It's not like he ever returned her multiple confessions, and it is not like he ever outwardly tried to pursue her either. Kotoko has never taken Irie's words seriously, not really anyways, so why must Irie, when she tells him that she has given up?
No.
No need to dwell on the past now; it has been nearly half a year since she last spoke to Naoki. He will be well, regardless of Kotoko's state of being.
His happiness does not depend on her, so why would he care about Kotoko's presence?
When she nears the dreaded house, Kotoko wishes she had kept on her cardigan. The chill grows and swirls around her, as do the nerves in her stomach.
Cars are parked out on along the street as far as she can see. She ducks underneath the street lights, enters the dark shadows for a brief moment.
It takes a couple of deep breathes before she is calm again. The sky has darkened, signaling the start of the party, as well as the start of night.
Then again, winter nights are always too eager to emerge. A few stars can be seen in the darkness above, but to see more of them Kotoko would have to squint and adjust her vision and stare up into the sky and even make a wish or two if she is lucky enough to spot a shooting stare and she does not have that sort of time.
Still.
Something is stopping her from entering.
Will Auntie be at the door, greeting her? Or perhaps it will be Irie himself, side-eying her, arms crossed, a curt nod all the acknowledgment he's willing to give her.
Perhaps Sahoko herself will be at the door, Kotoko thinks, trying hard to remember the last time she'd had a full conversation with her.
It has been a while, a very long while since Kotoko was in the company of the Irie's.
Her eyes flicker to the window of the house.
The blinds are moving; the light behind them grows dark.
Someone must be at the window.
Her throat is free of any moisture; Kotoko feels like coughing. Perhaps she has caught a cold, the absence of her cardigan finally proving itself detrimental.
The blinds, as well as the curtains, lift slightly again. Kotoko stares at them awhile, before she decides that it must have been someone shutting the window. The atmosphere would be ruined, you see, if a draft entered the house.
She'll have to enter quickly then, shut the door behind her fast so no one catches a chill.
She readies herself for her entrance, looks away from the large window and looks towards the door.
As she nears the door, Kotoko decides to ignore the growing urge to rip her scarf off, bundle it in her arms instead of wearing it. No, she will keep her dark red scarf on, though it is covering her necklace.
The color of the scarf also matches her lipstick. The combination is striking.
Before she enters, before Kotoko rings the circular doorbell, she pulls out her mobile from the side pocket of her dress, takes a good look at herself in the small camera.
Her hair sways slightly in the evening's wind, her eyes are slightly wet from the cold wind, and her cheeks are slightly reddened from the brisk wind.
Kotoko looks beautiful, though she can't help but wonder.
It is a surprise, seeing so many people at once. Irie's house is filled to the brim. Kotoko recognizes a few people the same age as her. She sees none of her actual classmates, however.
Then again, what was she expecting? It is not like Jinko and Satomi would be here, slinging arms with Kotoko as they all cheerfully bound into the house. No. The girls cannot be by her side forever. It is inevitable, their absence.
Besides.
That life — the time of high school girlfriends and giddiness — is past her now. Kotoko has matured, whether she likes it or not. It is time to reconcile with her past, beyond time to accept her future.
She sits down on the couch — a new, large leather sofa — folds her hands in her lap, glances around for a while, sees everything and takes in nothing.
It's a relatively calm party, but she's not feeling comfortable, no, far from it.
It is cramped, mainly because Kotoko is in the very corner of the plush chair, trying her best to not interrupt the heated conversation going on between the person seated next to her.
He is on the phone — the guy on the couch — his eyebrows furrowed, free hand waving around. Visibly peeved, audibly angry.
Kotoko smiles nervously as she gets up, leaving to find somewhere else to sit and do nothing.
She enters the kitchen, sees only a group of girls sitting on the table.
Kotoko blinks at them. Usually, whenever guests arrived in the house, Auntie would happily resign herself to the kitchen.
Auntie is nowhere to be seen.
Really, how unlucky is Kotoko? All she'd wanted was couple of acknowledgments, enough to clear any sort of rumors that might emerge, and then, and then Kotoko would finally take her leave from the Irie residence, once and for all.
Still blinking back at the girls, returning their confused stares and nonverbally interrupting their hushed conversation, Kotoko realizes that there is music playing in the background.
She'd heard it, of course, when she first entered the house, but it died down as she shut the door behind her, faded into background noise in her mind.
Kotoko had forgotten about it.
Now, it is entirely too loud. So loud in her ears that Kotoko almost misses the words of one of the girls, a black-haired long dress brown eyeshadow tinted lipgloss straightened hair long dangling silver sparkly earrings girl.
"…Can you get a glass for me?" The girl repeats, slowly, smiling as she glances at one of her friends, as if they're exchanging a joke of some sorts. The interaction is brief, but it leaves a stain on Kotoko's heart.
"Thanks," the girl adds, an afterthought, when Kotoko finally moves towards the all too familiar shelves, pulls out a glass.
The girls giggle when Kotoko places the tall glass on the table. Only one girl smiles apologetically at her, gives Kotoko a look full of sympathy.
Kotoko ignores both the giggles and the pity.
Her red lipstick feels all too out of place as she leaves the kitchen, heads to the bathroom. Perhaps she will wipe it all off.
She finds herself lost as she searches for the bathroom.
Irie's house has gotten…larger. There is a new something, Kotoko realizes as she heads down the unfamiliar hall, peeks in an opening.
It wouldn't hurt to get a closer look at the new installments, right?
It is when Kotoko sees two people, shadows in a dark room, illuminated only by the slivers of the light filtering in the closet, that she realizes.
Kotoko leaves the couple alone, leaves them to have their moment.
It is, after all, their day to celebrate, isn't it?
She wonders why she is still here, at this party that is not really a party, at this house that has never been her house, at this party where she does not belong.
If Kotoko left right now, would anyone notice?
Would anyone care?
She thinks, as she steps over a popped balloon, that the answer to both questions, is no.
Kotoko says it, says no not once, but twice, when she is offered a drink.
The stranger peers down at her, asks if she is alright.
Kotoko thinks about it.
Thinks if she should say no, she is not alright.
She tells him that she is fine, and she tells him thank you for asking.
The stranger is not convinced, but he shrugs, leaves her alone in the hall.
It is no use, really. Kotoko should have said yes.
She should drink. It is a good idea to drink, to let loose and get her mind off of things, but Kotoko knows it is futile.
Being back in Irie's house is sobriety itself.
"Are you leaving already?"
Kotoko turns, lets her hand fall from the cold doorknob.
Sahoko blinks back at her, her soft, mild voice heavy with concern. "Are you alright?" Sahoko asks, takes a once over at Kotoko's outfit. "It's quite…cold outside, Kotoko, do you need a ride home?"
"I'm fine," Kotoko replies, smiling brightly. "I was looking for you, actually, Sahoko. I wanted to wish you a happy birthday."
Sahoko smiles back, that shy smile of hers, though her dewy eyes remain the same, edged with worry. "Thank you, Kotoko, I appreciate that."
"…I wanted to extend an invitation to…your family," Kotoko begins, breaking eye contact, trying to piece together the words. "As a birthday gift."
Sahoko leans in. "Sorry?"
"My father's restaurant," Kotoko explains, blinking quickly. It is difficult, to reintroduce Irie's family back into her life, but she must. "You're always welcome to dine there, we've even got a family discount — "
"There's no need for that, Kotoko."
Sahoko turns, smiles as Irie's hand rests on her shoulder. Sahoko's eyes crinkle now, the worry now gone as she smiles up at him.
Irie's grip on Sahoko's shoulder is firm. The light shines on his hand, illuminating a simple band on his finger. They make a fine couple like this, perfectly dressed, appearances meticulous and fine.
Kotoko can do nothing but stare at the picture perfect people in front of her. It seems that even their silhouettes, their shadows, are perfect.
"I assume you're well off now," Irie continues, glancing at Kotoko's neck. "A necklace like that is expensive."
Sahoko blinks. Her gentle smile fades. Her eyes, wide and confused, dart around for a moment before she cranes her neck, stares up at Irie. "Naoki, what is that supposed to — "
"I saw the price tag in the shop," Irie explains, his voice suddenly softened. "I thought of you, Sahoko, when I came across it."
Her face colors slightly, Kotoko notices. Kotoko watches Sahoko's reaction to Irie's words for another moment or two, before she feels the weight of a familiar stare on her.
He's looking straight at her.
"You left it in the hall," Irie tells her, frowning slightly. "Your red scarf."
