I was surly and anxious all that week. What Coffee girl and I had, Sunday evening, was what most normal couples would call a fight. It was our first, and now I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't even have anyone to ask. In a normal relationship, the boyfriend would probably call and apologize. Right? But I didn't know Coffee girl's phone number any more than I did her name, I couldn't call her.
I wasn't even sure if I should be apologizing. For what? I didn't say anything wrong, only the truth. If that was all it took to make her angry, then so be –
No. That worked on everyone else in my life, but not her. I didn't want Coffee girl to be angry at me, unhappy with me. I definitely didn't want her to stop seeing me. She should like me, that was important. Really important. I'd never cared so much about what someone thought of me; not since that moment I felt my own soul being ripped from my body had I felt so vulnerable.
That's why I was surly. I was anxious because I didn't know what would happen come Sunday, what I was supposed to say or do – assuming she did actually come. This boyfriend stuff was tricky after all, and for once I had no tech manual to refer to. I'm not proud to admit that I almost chickened out by not going.
Almost. But nervous as I was, the thought of going another week without seeing her was worse. If nothing else, I had to be there – no matter what happened.
It turned out to be the last thing I'd have ever expected.
'graduation'
The first surprise came when I walked into the café and found her already there, fidgeting in her usual seat with legs crossed and no book in sight. The second was her appearance – not the usual jeans and cotton shirt but a dress, complete with heels and make-up. I barely had time to process these two oddities before she'd rocketed out of her chair and crossed the café, almost throwing herself against my chest.
"Oof," I grunted. "What the- what?"
She separated her face from my shirt and squeaked again, no more understandably than the first time, and waved her hands for emphasis. "What? I can't- slow down." Some people were looking our way now. "Okay, hang on."
With some difficulty I managed to back out of the café and drag her with me, Coffee girl rapidly approaching hyperventilation and piping a random syllable here and there. Something told me we'd never make it if I tried to go for the stairs and I settled for hiding behind the Self Help shelves, taking a chance that we'd have our privacy. She still hadn't said one coherent thing yet.
"You're going to have to slow down if you want me to understand," I advised, and covered her hands with my own. "Breathe. Deep. In, and out."
It took a little coaxing, but eventually she caught onto the idea and copied me, some natural color returning to her made-up but white face. Her eyes were still dilated with sheer panic, though, and it was with a thumping heart I waited for her to speak.
"I graduated," she whispered.
That's it? "Okay," I said uncertainly.
She shook her head frantically, her pearl drop earrings whipping back and forth. "No, I graduated."
I was missing something here, that much was obvious.
"I- I- I -" At this point she had to stop and take another few deep breaths, squeezing so hard that my hands hurt. "I made the decision. I told Kaa-san, and Nii-chan, that I'm… going to get my own apartment."
Everything in the bookstore stopped. For one heartbeat.
"You what?"
"I d-did it. I told them that I wanted to move into my own place for college, that I wasn't going to live with either of them." She was literally trembling, her eyes still terrified, but her back was straight and her chin high. Stupefied, I could only stutter one word.
"W-why?"
"Why? It was your idea! You know why."
"No, I mean- last week you wouldn't even consider the idea. Why did you…" Grow a spine? Stand up for yourself? "… change your mind?"
At that she shook her head, slowly and helplessly. "I don't know. I- I just… saw it."
"What?"
"It," she repeated, as if I should know what that meant. "I was at my school, all dressed up for graduation and wearing my cap and gown. My family was in the crowd, clapping and cheering when I crossed the stage. The dean handed me my degree, and- and… it was fake. They use rolled-up blank parchment for the ceremony and mail out the real degrees later, you know."
Actually, I didn't know that. Not like I bothered to go to my own graduation ceremony.
"It was just a piece of paper," she continued. "It meant nothing. I couldn't stop staring at it, hearing your words over and over again inside my head until I thought I would explode. It was all just so stupid; I was graduating but not growing up. My family wasn't ever going to let me grow up."
She paused then to take a shuddering breath. "I knew it had to be today or never. They all came crowding around me, my mom and my stepdad and Nii-chan, giving me gifts and hugs and… I told them. Just like that, out of the blue, that I'd get my own apartment for college. Everyone just froze, and stared at me. It was horrible. Then they started arguing with me, then with each other, and it all went to hell faster than I could blink. I had to get out of there. Mom and Nii-chan were so busy yelling at each other they didn't even notice when I left, and I got on a bus and came straight here. I had to see you, I had to be with you because I know you're the only one that will understand."
Her little hands were holding onto mine for dear life, but her terrified eyes were dry. She wasn't upset, she was excited. Scared, yes, but proud too. She'd done something today she'd never done before and the only person she wanted to share that with was me.
I didn't realize I'd moved until her nose bumped against mine, and I could feel her shallow breathing on my lips. She was just so soft, and smelled so good, something delicious waiting to be tasted.
"Congratulations," I murmured, the word hardly more than a mumble of sound in the lack of space between us. And then my lips were on hers, kissing her, claiming her, showing approval better than any words could. She responded eagerly, almost desperately, perhaps seeking reassurance. This was not any kiss of respectable distance, as they always had been before, now her body pressed so closely to mine I could feel her heartbeat. Her arms encircled my neck and it seemed only natural to slip my hands around her small waist. Coffee girl wasn't as voluptuous as some female duelists I could name, but in my arms she felt perfect.
We parted for breath. I could feel the air moving in and out of her lungs, escaping from between her lips in shallow ragged gasps. And I, who could bring an attacker twice my size to the ground without breaking a sweat, was in a similar state. Read the Economist now? Not likely.
"Dinner?"
"Yes please."
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The restaurant was almost empty, given the position of the hands on the clock, and quiet. A nice place, nice enough to keep out anyone Coffee girl might be acquainted with, one that I'd happened to recognize as the site of a past business lunch. The hostess took one look at the two of us, and Coffee girl's dress, and was quick to seat us in a private booth far to the back. She stuck to iced tea; I felt the need for a restorative beer.
"To graduation," I proposed, and raised my bottle. "The real one."
She ducked her head and giggled nervously, but clinked her glass against my drink. Soft and muted atmosphere notwithstanding, Coffee girl couldn't sit still and was fidgeting in her seat like an executive who just can't wait to report his stunning sales record. The glass was shaking slightly in her hand when she returned it to the table.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded, then shook her head. "I feel like I'm going to explode any second," she confided, her voice low in spite of our total privacy. "It's like there's this energy inside me that might shoot out through my skin and I can barely keep it contained and you probably think I'm crazy, don't you?"
"Not at all," I assured her. "I remember that feeling. It's independence. You'll get used to it."
"It tingles," Coffee girl decided, an uncertain smile flickering in and out of existence. "But it's scary feeling too."
"I know."
At that she raised a skeptical eyebrow. "What would you know about that?"
"Contrary to whatever you might read in the newspapers, I was born from human parents. I know what it's like to be scared."
"Scared, like I-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing-scared? No."
"Yes."
"When?"
"Plenty of times. I remember…" I took a contemplative swig of beer and let a few memories stroll through my mind, old and outdated ones. "…when my adoptive father died and the leadership of the company fell to me. Just a week after his funeral was my first executive meeting, and I was scared as hell."
Coffee girl had gone wide-eyed with amazement again, looking just like she did when I fed her some economic fact. "Really?"
"Really." That's when I caught myself, stiffened, and gave her a sharp look of warning. "You better not tell anyone about this, by the way."
"Oh, no!" Hastily she shook her head. "I wouldn't."
"Good. I was barely into my teens, and I had to walk into that room and sit at the head of a table full of men more than twice my age. Most of them were after my chair and couldn't be trusted, I'm sure none of them believed I could actually run the company. And there were times when I wondered if they were right."
Coffee girl looked riveted. "I would die. How did you get through that?"
"I almost didn't. Right away two of the vice-presidents tried to throw me for a loop, burying me with technical details for their competing missile spec designs and then demanding a decision."
I could feel my heartbeat speeding up with the memory of it, the pounding adrenaline that had been flowing through my blood that day as I sat and watched so calmly. The old man had trained me to never let anything slip through my facial expression and I didn't fail him in that, at least.
Coffee girl was on the edge of her seat. "What did you say?"
"I knew what they were trying to do, could see how they were working together to maneuver me onto their own playing field. And I realized right then that I'd never survive if I played by their rules. I had to make my own game."
And that's literally what I did.
"I told them that, from this date forward, the company was discontinuing all missile guidance programming, all weapon design, and terminating any outstanding contracts with our buyers. Departments would be deconstructed and reformed to the purpose of a new product – entertainment."
"You said that? Right then and there?"
"Right then and there. And yeah, I was terrified. But I never backed down, not through all their shouting and raving and then the rounds of downsizing as my orders went into effect. To this day, I know I did the right thing – it's my life, after all. I had to do what I wanted."
"Wow… it's not so different from my story, in a way."
"I know. Why do you think I argued my point so much?"
She blinked, and then understanding filtered into her eyes. The shaded light above our heads turned them so gold. And then a genuine smile played across her lips.
"You know, I think you're quite nice."
"Don't tell anybody that, either."
"I cross my heart," she promised, performing the accompanying motion that, incidentally, drew my attention to her neckline. I liked that dress, a little cream-colored number trimmed in lace that displayed a slim waist and hips normally concealed by jeans.
"You, ah, look nice, by the way," I muttered, and took another quick swallow of alcohol. Coffee girl blushed a light pink and looked down.
"Thank you. My mother's graduation present. I guess this is the last time in a long time I'll have a new dress."
She uttered a tiny and resigned sigh.
"Guess you're not looking forward to going home tonight, huh?"
"No. It's going to be terrible. But- it can't be any worse than those men in your company. And if you could do it then I can too."
"Well said," I complimented.
"Still, I'm not exactly in a hurry either. Um, do you…"
I placed a hand over her nervously tapping fingers, holding them still. "I've got all the time in the world."
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Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
Well. Obviously I did not get this chapter done before my feet hit American soil, and for that I am sorry. I made it as far as the invitation to dinner (kind of a late lunch, actually) and then everything just snowballed. Conversations are tricky things for me, so I had to hold off until I could spend some quality time with my laptop. That meant not just coming home but seeing all my friends and family, attending one wedding, and – oh yeah – looking for a job. Still working on that last one, by the way, which means Coffee Girl is now skating perilously close to real life. Wish me luck.
To Elegant Destruction: I'm glad you like the story and I assure you that I'm familiar with the phrase 'first-person narrative'. Speaking of which, Vespera, you have a good point. I hope her little speech early this chapter helped to fill you in a little better on Coffee girl's thoughts. As the relationship becomes more and more 'normal', there will be more open conversation between them and I think we'll get a better look at what's going on in her head.