I'd known Aya since I was a kid. She moved into the city when I was
about eight years old. Something about her mother and father wanting to be
closer to their jobs. And since they pretty much were at their jobs all
day, it got rid of the inconvenience of having to actually travel to a home
where they'd just go in, go to bed, sleep and come back in the morning. It
got rid of the inconvenience of "home". They might as well have set up
little houses in their cubicles.
But Aya didn't care. She was like that. For as long as I'd known her, she didn't let things get to her. It wasn't that she was grounded or something, because even when something completely absurd struck her, it didn't phase her. And it wasn't that she was apathetic, because she knew what was going on.
When we were kids, we were best friends. I remember how I met her, which is probably one of my oldest memories and probably the only memory I can remember in so much detail. I remember it was sometime in late afternoon and I was walking out alone in the city, painted a dramatic red- orange color, as if the whole of it were on fire, yet it never burned down. A flame that didn't burn. The sun was dying behind a jagged horizon of buildings that looked like the lower jaw of some dark-lipped beast. For some reason, I found myself walking towards the water, towards the gray stone wall that shielded the cracked pavement of the sidewalk from the dark eternity of oil-tainted water. The water clutched at the light of the setting sun, holding it close, trying to remember what it felt like to be natural again, not full of the debris of mankind.
I folded my arms on top of the wall, which was a little shorter than my height at the time and put my head in my arms, looking out over the water. The city continued there, as if it never stopped. I wondered if someday people would build buildings on the water. So that nobody had to know that anything natural could cut such a wound into the urban sprawl.
When I looked down, I suddenly noticed a slender girl with shoulder- length deep black hair making her way awkwardly along the shore, surrounded by broken bottles and faded newspapers that hid the dark, moldy rocks beneath. Her skin was a bright pale, gleaming faintly like the oncoming moon against the darkness it trailed with it. She wore a somewhat short dark gray skirt that danced with her jerky movements, and a tight, long- sleeved black turtleneck. Her body looked about my age, but her face was so focused and concentrated I wondered how old she really was.
"Hey! Hey, you down there!" I tried not to yell too loud, because I didn't want to call attention to us, two kids on the shore of tainted waters.
She stopped suddenly and looked up, thin black eyebrows raised, but without a look of surprise on her face. Her face was somewhat round, and her eyes had long, dark lashes that seemed to melt into the deep black pools of her eyes. "Yeah? What?" Her voice was smooth and sultry, like that of an older woman.
I forgot what I was going to say, looking at her that way. "Umm.what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" She turned back to picking her way along, stumbling a bit.
"Tripping over rocks." I smiled.
She scoffed. "Yeah, I'd like to see you do any better."
"Easy." With that, I threw myself over the wall and landed expertly on the rocks. I'd been down there before. I just never thought much of it until I saw the black-haired girl. Of course, it made it a little easier that I was wearing sneakers and she was wearing black formal shoes with one- inch heels. I easily made my way to her and grinned widely into her face, which split with a half-smile. "How about that?"
"Pretty good." She tilted her head, her dark hair rolling like waves to the side and her hand moving to rest on her hip. "How about a race?" Her little half-smile was dangerous, like the edge of a knife.
I got myself at the ready, taking the same stance I'd seen a runner take on TV. "You're on."
((I recommend the song by the Pillows called Advice for this part.))
She grinned still wider and readied herself as well. "On three, okay?" I nodded. "All right. One." I felt my muscles twitch under the stress. "Two." I looked over at her. She was smiling wickedly, and her dark eyes sparkled like little black stones. "Three!"
Both of us dashed off. The newspapers exploded with our footfalls, splattering like blood against the walls, revealing foot-shaped portions of rotting black stone. Bottles skittered out of the way, some flying ahead of us, some flying behind, some disappearing into the water, which seemed to suddenly kick up, as if trying to grab us with its diseased black hands. She moved surprisingly fast, her slender white legs pumping with almost as much force as mine. We dashed towards the rusted dark metal of the bridge far in the distance, feeling the ground rise and fall wildly beneath us.
The world flew by in a blur of gray and flame. The sun cast a last burning spotlight on us, throwing our dancing shadows like scorched bodies onto the flaming gray wall to our side. Glass tore our shoes, stone pounded our feet, sweat flew in little wet explosions in every direction, bursting from our glistening skin. Our breath flew uselessly from our body, used and discarded.
Suddenly, the rocks dipped sharply and the water filled the gap. Both of us tried to stop, but our momentum carried us full into the filthy water of the short gap. The loud crash of the breaking water ended the race like a gunshot would have started it. We both struggled out of the muck, finding a place to collapse amidst the gleaming sharp teeth of broken bottles all around us. The smell of decay and sweat, the smell of death and life, they mingled in the air as we gazed up at the sky, the light losing the war against the dark of night. Both of us were soaked with oil, water, blood, tears and whatever else was cast down into that tortured river.
She sighed happily and turned to me, a few specks of dirt and wet strands of hair cutting into the pale moon of her features. She held out a dripping, dirty hand for me to take. "I'm Aya Furihame."
I looked at that hand for some time before smiling and taking it, the filth on both of our hands mixing and dripping off together. "Tama Maseo."
She smirked that same wicked smirk, her dark red lips like blood on the edges of the knife of her smile. "Nice to meet you."
But Aya didn't care. She was like that. For as long as I'd known her, she didn't let things get to her. It wasn't that she was grounded or something, because even when something completely absurd struck her, it didn't phase her. And it wasn't that she was apathetic, because she knew what was going on.
When we were kids, we were best friends. I remember how I met her, which is probably one of my oldest memories and probably the only memory I can remember in so much detail. I remember it was sometime in late afternoon and I was walking out alone in the city, painted a dramatic red- orange color, as if the whole of it were on fire, yet it never burned down. A flame that didn't burn. The sun was dying behind a jagged horizon of buildings that looked like the lower jaw of some dark-lipped beast. For some reason, I found myself walking towards the water, towards the gray stone wall that shielded the cracked pavement of the sidewalk from the dark eternity of oil-tainted water. The water clutched at the light of the setting sun, holding it close, trying to remember what it felt like to be natural again, not full of the debris of mankind.
I folded my arms on top of the wall, which was a little shorter than my height at the time and put my head in my arms, looking out over the water. The city continued there, as if it never stopped. I wondered if someday people would build buildings on the water. So that nobody had to know that anything natural could cut such a wound into the urban sprawl.
When I looked down, I suddenly noticed a slender girl with shoulder- length deep black hair making her way awkwardly along the shore, surrounded by broken bottles and faded newspapers that hid the dark, moldy rocks beneath. Her skin was a bright pale, gleaming faintly like the oncoming moon against the darkness it trailed with it. She wore a somewhat short dark gray skirt that danced with her jerky movements, and a tight, long- sleeved black turtleneck. Her body looked about my age, but her face was so focused and concentrated I wondered how old she really was.
"Hey! Hey, you down there!" I tried not to yell too loud, because I didn't want to call attention to us, two kids on the shore of tainted waters.
She stopped suddenly and looked up, thin black eyebrows raised, but without a look of surprise on her face. Her face was somewhat round, and her eyes had long, dark lashes that seemed to melt into the deep black pools of her eyes. "Yeah? What?" Her voice was smooth and sultry, like that of an older woman.
I forgot what I was going to say, looking at her that way. "Umm.what are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" She turned back to picking her way along, stumbling a bit.
"Tripping over rocks." I smiled.
She scoffed. "Yeah, I'd like to see you do any better."
"Easy." With that, I threw myself over the wall and landed expertly on the rocks. I'd been down there before. I just never thought much of it until I saw the black-haired girl. Of course, it made it a little easier that I was wearing sneakers and she was wearing black formal shoes with one- inch heels. I easily made my way to her and grinned widely into her face, which split with a half-smile. "How about that?"
"Pretty good." She tilted her head, her dark hair rolling like waves to the side and her hand moving to rest on her hip. "How about a race?" Her little half-smile was dangerous, like the edge of a knife.
I got myself at the ready, taking the same stance I'd seen a runner take on TV. "You're on."
((I recommend the song by the Pillows called Advice for this part.))
She grinned still wider and readied herself as well. "On three, okay?" I nodded. "All right. One." I felt my muscles twitch under the stress. "Two." I looked over at her. She was smiling wickedly, and her dark eyes sparkled like little black stones. "Three!"
Both of us dashed off. The newspapers exploded with our footfalls, splattering like blood against the walls, revealing foot-shaped portions of rotting black stone. Bottles skittered out of the way, some flying ahead of us, some flying behind, some disappearing into the water, which seemed to suddenly kick up, as if trying to grab us with its diseased black hands. She moved surprisingly fast, her slender white legs pumping with almost as much force as mine. We dashed towards the rusted dark metal of the bridge far in the distance, feeling the ground rise and fall wildly beneath us.
The world flew by in a blur of gray and flame. The sun cast a last burning spotlight on us, throwing our dancing shadows like scorched bodies onto the flaming gray wall to our side. Glass tore our shoes, stone pounded our feet, sweat flew in little wet explosions in every direction, bursting from our glistening skin. Our breath flew uselessly from our body, used and discarded.
Suddenly, the rocks dipped sharply and the water filled the gap. Both of us tried to stop, but our momentum carried us full into the filthy water of the short gap. The loud crash of the breaking water ended the race like a gunshot would have started it. We both struggled out of the muck, finding a place to collapse amidst the gleaming sharp teeth of broken bottles all around us. The smell of decay and sweat, the smell of death and life, they mingled in the air as we gazed up at the sky, the light losing the war against the dark of night. Both of us were soaked with oil, water, blood, tears and whatever else was cast down into that tortured river.
She sighed happily and turned to me, a few specks of dirt and wet strands of hair cutting into the pale moon of her features. She held out a dripping, dirty hand for me to take. "I'm Aya Furihame."
I looked at that hand for some time before smiling and taking it, the filth on both of our hands mixing and dripping off together. "Tama Maseo."
She smirked that same wicked smirk, her dark red lips like blood on the edges of the knife of her smile. "Nice to meet you."
