Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation or the characters portrayed within it. They belong to the wonderful Maki Murakami and I'm only using her ideas and a bit of my own artistic license to write a story.
Chapter Two
It was dark, quiet and peaceful. The creature grew restless, wanting to know the world outside of its enclosing walls. It fought to break free from its cocoon, to be liberated – to be born. Its reward did it get. The butterfly met the light.
OF CHAOS THEORY AND THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT
Assessing their situation, Tohma's mind slipped further back in time to think over the circumstances that had brought them to where they were now. He tried to figure out which, if any, of the events and choices that made up his life had led him to the very spot he was at now, in the back of a Japanese taxi with a whole lot of issues weighing on his conscience.
Would everything still be the same if he'd done anything differently? If someone else, someplace else, had done something differently? Chaos theory relied on the so-called Butterfly Effect: a minute change in the initial conditions of a complex system having large consequences in the long-term evolution of that system. The weather system was such an example. It was said that the batting of a butterfly's wings on the other side of the world could cause a tornado in Tokyo a few days later. Suddenly, the bizarre idea that, this very minute, a little, evil butterfly might be batting its powdery thin wings in New York haunted his mind. The presence of chaos in physics was also what gave the universe its "arrow of time", the irreversible flow from the past to the future. Once more he was reminded of the cruelty of the laws of the cosmos – what was past was past and couldn't be changed no matter what. He shook the strange thoughts off and his mind somehow ended up traveling back a few years, to his days as an undergraduate student.
After spending a year in New York, where he'd polished his English skills into full fluency, Tohma had traveled back to Japan and started a degree in Market and Finance at the prestigious university of Tokyo. Half way through his time at university, Tohma had discovered his love for music and applied his knowledge at the piano to one of two keyboards of a five piece band named 'Glass Shards'. Glass Shards had nothing to do with his university life and provided him with a nice form of escapism on his otherwise strict daily regime.
Glass Shards' members complemented each other well in terms of musical ability and had gone on to play in a few small gigs. They were quite successful and well known locally, especially amongst the female student population where they counted with a few die-hard fans. Six months after forming, however, the band had been reduced to three members. Their bassist, Hitoshi Sato, and their guitarist, Takeshi Sato, had left the band to try their luck as entrepreneurs in the music software business. The band, having been stripped of almost half its crew and two major instruments, had then changed their style radically. The three remaining members' original intention had been to experiment with a new style of music involving two synthesizers to produce the sounds of guitar and bass, in the hope the Sato brothers might return if unsuccessful. Glass Shards was the original gathering of five musicians and so the three who remained felt a rename of the band was in order for the time being. They had called themselves 'Nittle Grasper'.
Before they knew it, their innovate and unique style, together with the powerful voice of their lead singer, Sakuma Ryuichi, had taken the three up to unstoppable stardom. In a matter of months the new band had a two year contract with one of Japan's most respectable record studios and they were touring the country, collecting thousands of loyal fans and becoming one of the most successful J-pop bands in history. They were being idolized and praised by the public and the press alike, all the while loving every minute of their time at the top. For almost two years, the three inseparable friends rode the rollercoaster of fame, having the absolute time of their lives
Tohma had dropped out of his degree with a few months to finish. He was still in bad terms with his family for "throwing away all the money and effort they'd poured into his education", but Seguchi Tohma had absolutely no regrets. He had what he had always wanted: a lot of money and fame. Yet, with those came something unexpected, something he didn't know he had longed for as well: loyal people whom he could call his friends. The fact he hadn't achieved his dreams via his original intentions was not important. In fact, what he got in the end happened much more quickly and amusingly than going through the hierarchy of a standard job, as he had first intended. He had also found, with surprise, that he really enjoyed the J-pop star lifestyle, with its vertiginous work, emotional pace and unexpected highs and lows. They gave him a rush like nothing else did. Being part of Nittle Grasper for those two years, Tohma had learnt more about himself than he had done the rest of his life. For one, he had realized, amongst other things, that he'd been striving to achieve what he thought he wanted for himself when, in fact, he'd been pursuing what his family had made him believe he wanted. Now Tohma was true to his desires and aspirations in life and happy to have chosen a different path for himself. He didn't know many people who could honestly say the same thing and he thought himself very lucky.
Noriko Sei was the third star in Orion's belt, so to speak – Nittle Grasper's third pillar. A few weeks before Nittle Grasper's contract was due for renovation, she announced to their manager that she'd be taking a break to have a baby. Tension and arguments broke out with the record company, but it couldn't be helped: Noriko was almost two months pregnant already. Five weeks later, millions of hearts were broken as Japan mourned the split-up of the most international band they'd ever harboured. Noriko's pregnancy was kept concealed and the public re-assured by a final press conference. In an interview with Grasper's manager the fans were told Nittle Grasper would only be going on a twelve month hiatus while its members rested, since they'd been working themselves to exhaustion.
Nittle Grasper's split-up had taken place in mid-September. Ryuichi had spent the last ten months traveling and getting to know the countries they'd toured, not having been able to do so whilst immersed in the band. In mid-October, eight months ago, Noriko had gotten married to the father of her child, Tetsuya Ukai - a man much older than her and a university professor. The wedding was also meant to be a secret, but the paparazzi had gotten hold of pictures of the event and of her obvious state of pregnancy, since she'd been seventeen weeks pregnant at the time. Nittle Grasper's members had still been riding the crest of fame and so, when the pictures were published with all sorts of gossip about the married couple, a wave of commotion rippled across the nation.
Some said Tetsuya married Noriko because of her money. Others said she was a flirt and took part in outrageous sex parties at notoriously lavish gatherings for the rich and famous, and that she'd gotten pregnant and forced him to marry her. The truth was that they'd met each other in a restaurant and fallen in love. The way Noriko told it, one night at her flat, the couple had drunk one too many Cosmopolitans after an amazing evening and ended up having unprotected sex. But no one wanted to believe in fairy tales, especially if they happened to people who were already considered too fortunate by some. Right now, Noriko was taking care of her five months-old baby girl, Saki. She still lived in Tokyo with her husband and they were both trying to keep away from the public eye.
The band's break up had given Tohma the opportunity to seize the chance towards taking the first steps for creating his own record label. It couldn't be denied he was still a business-minded individual, despite having dropped out of his degree. His experience in the industry had provided him with a large list of handy contacts, a round knowledge on the music business in general, and heaps of yen in the bank. On top of that, his leadership skills and an innate talent for making his enterprises successful put him in a prime position to make a name of himself in the Japanese music industry. Plenty of people around him thought Tohma had the brains and means necessary to achieve anything he set his mind to, and so many jumped in the wagon to practically-guaranteed entrepreneurial success. Soon enough, things were on the rise for the ambitious Seguchi Tohma. The opportunity to travel abroad to work for a prestigious international media company came up around the same time the Uesegi's were contemplating the possibility of sending Eiri away from Kyoto, and so taking Eiri with him to New York had simply killed two birds with one stone.
Eiri, who had been fifteen at the time, had been unsettled in Kyoto, where he lived with his father, brother and sister in the family temple. He had been teased at school for his foreign looks and often got into fights with the other youngsters. His grades had been on a downward track ever since the Uesegi matriarch had become ill and died, but he still passed his subjects with little study which proved he was capable of academic brilliance, but chose not to use his brains accordingly.
Tohma Seguchi was engaged to the oldest of the Uesegi siblings, Mika Uesegi, who had filled in the role of mother for her two young brothers ever since the woman had passed away. The marriage had been arranged by Mika and Tohma's parents even before Tohma had become part of Grasper, to which the young couple had presented no opposition. The two of them had been together on a few dates and liked each other well enough. They were both very active people with little time for romanticism in their busy schedules and so marriage had seemed convenient and was welcomed by both parties.
With all her obligations at the temple, Mika had little time for courting. Currently, the marriage had been postponed until Mika's brothers were old enough to live alone with their father, and until Tohma's career was stably settled. They still had no exact date for the wedding, but it wasn't to take place for another couple of years at least.
Ever since their coming together to America, right before the New Year, the soon-to-be-brothers in law had forged a special relationship. Eiri had proved to be a bright, passionate teenager with a wild imagination and an incorrigible, but endearing, romantic streak, like those of history's tragic poets and story-tellers. Tohma had seen the seed for success in Eiri back in Japan, and had offered to help by taking the kid with him to New York. Tohma had promised Eiri would learn English, basic science, Japanese, and world history and literature, as well as broaden his life experience. Everyone had agreed it was a good idea and they harboured high expectations for the teenager. The Uesegi patriarch, in particular, was looking forward to "having his eldest son returned with some sense knocked into that youthful head of his, ready to take over the family temple as a dutiful son".
The experience of living together in New York, however, had proved to be just as valuable and rich for both of them. On Wednesdays, the two of them would go to one of Broadways' forty theatres to see a play; on Fridays, the latest blockbuster at the cinema; and on Sundays, they would walk around Central Park. They visited restaurants, parks and museums, and kept each other company. They became friends and confidants. Tohma started teaching Eiri how to play the piano and Eiri read his first poems and short stories to Tohma. They played cards and Tohma almost always won at Poker, throwing Eiri into a half-hearted tantrum. At night time, they would curl under a blanket on the sofa and watch television or converse. They talked about trivial and philosophical matters, making each other laugh until their stomachs hurt. Sometimes, though, they became so angry with each other, they kept distant and cold towards one another for days. The latter usually happened because Tohma had a practical, down to Earth, and somewhat cynical approach to life whereas Eiri's view was altruistic and filled with the naiveté appropriate of a romantic sixteen year old. A couple of days would pass and then, without realizing it, the two were back on normal terms. There was no need for apologies, make-up gifts, or gestures of forgiveness on either part. It was a rather strange alliance, some might say, given the age gap and the personality differences, but it seemed to work.
Eiri spent every afternoon at New York Public library on Fifth Avenue, Manhattan, whilst Tohma developed business relationships and learnt the ways of the stock trade in midtown Manhattan, which harboured most of the financial offices now, as opposed to the more famous Wall Street. Tohma spent his time working with capitalist sharks, investing his gathered fortune to make an even greater one, watching the numbers in his bank account roll up as the weeks went by. At lunch times, Eiri would sit on the stairs outside the library between Patience and Solitude, the two impressive lions sculpted by Edward Clark Potter in the early twentieth century. Eiri had said to Tohma that the lions inspired strength and dignity and that he hoped one day people would feel like that when they looked at him or his work. Eiri had also said that one day he would do something important and be remembered by it. Tohma had smiled broadly and his chest had swollen with pride as he'd ruffled the youth's hair and enveloped the unsuspecting Eiri in a rib-crushing embrace, short of squealing his delight to the four winds. It was then that Tohma had known bringing Eiri to New York had been the best thing for the previously straying teenager.
When the weather was nice, many people would do as Eiri and sit on the library stairs, enjoying the few rays of sunshine that would play hide and seek in the clouds on the winter months. The youngster took pleasure in observing the crowds and their actions, usually drawing inspiration for stories from them. He also loved the hustle and bustle of the big city, so different from the peace and quiet of his place of birth. In the Big Apple, Eiri's looks weren't strange and he wasn't the only foreigner either. There, everything was different – new, big, loud, vibrant, a constant carnival of cultures and customs, heart-accelerating and ceaselessly exciting. And Eiri didn't want it to end; neither of them did. In the evenings, Tohma picked Eiri up at exactly the same spot on the library's concrete steps and they went out for dinner or to one of the activities they shared. Sometimes, they simply went home and Tohma started teaching Eiri how to cook and do the housework now that "Eiri was a bachelor", Tohma would say jokingly.
Soon after arriving, it had become clear that Eiri needed additional academic help, since the help Tohma offered him during weekends was not enough towards making the progress the youth desperately craved. After they'd been in America for a couple of months, Tohma came back from work telling Eiri he'd met a fellow Japanese man, a freelance tutor named Yuki Kitazawa. Their encounter had been a chance one. Yuki Kitazawa had bumped into Tohma one morning and apologized to him in Japanese by accident. The papers Kitazawa had been carrying had spilled all over the floor. As Tohma had helped him collect them, the two established a polite conversation.
It turned out that Kitazawa was a half-Japanese in his early twenties and was a bit of a bohemian soul who had spent most of his life traveling the world. He had settled in America only recently and was looking for a part-time job to help him pay the rent of his modest flat in Queens. He was a Classic Literature graduate and usually made his wages by taking on a couple of pupils and teaching them privately while he tried to make it big in the world of fiction. The papers he'd been carrying were printed advertisements of his services and Kitazawa had been touring the schools in the area posting the notices that morning. The tutor, a light brunette, gave off a trusting vibe and came across as a respectful and amiable individual. His demeanor was calm and graceful. He had a soft, soothing voice and a smile that made Tohma think Kitazawa and Eiri would get along well. In an unusual gesture of friendliness, and perhaps guided by the prospect of giving Eiri good news, Tohma had asked Kitazawa for his number and arranged a meeting with him the following week after checking his references.
Eiri was nervous about the meeting at first, but just as Tohma had predicted, Eiri took an immediate liking to Kitazawa. The three had dinner at Eiri and Tohma's luxurious flat by the Hudson River where introductions where first made. Eiri had just turned sixteen. It was the middle of February and white snowflakes were coming down from the sky on that fateful evening. The snow floated in the cold still air outside, hovering slightly before falling by the thousands in white star-shaped fractals blanketing the streets of Manhattan. They'd all been basking in the warmth produced by the heating indoors and looking out of the window when Kitazawa had made some hokey remark about the beauty of the weather outside. It had been one of those situations that had made the usually stoic Tohma almost embarrassed at the openness of character the tutor displayed. Most people would have probably laughed at the sensitivity of Kitazawa's statement, but Eiri had been very taken by it and had praised the other man. The blush covering Eiri's face probably hadn't come from the nice temperature of the dining room (as did Yuki's) or from embarrassment (as did Tohma's), but for entirely different reasons. Now that Tohma thought about, it all made sense in retrospective.
Yuki's charisma and Eiri's enthusiasm for learning with him had been all too readily obvious from day one. After Yuki had left the flat that first night, Eiri's unusual amber eyes had taken on a new look of excitement, and Tohma hadn't been able to deny Eiri's pleas to hire the young man. He had been so excited he hadn't gone to sleep until late hours of morning, chatting away animatedly and mentioning all the things he would now be able to do. Tohma had been proud he'd been the one to bring Eiri so much happiness and, inwardly, he'd patted himself in the back. How foolish he had been, Tohma thought now, but how could he have known?
The matter of fees had been settled the following day, on the condition Kitazawa kept Eiri as his only student to ensure the tutor would be at the ready in case Eiri needed to consult him. And so everything came to pass; just like that. Yuki became Eiri's private tutor, coaching him in the afternoons in the library and sometimes spending his time with Eiri in the evenings when Tohma's work kept him occupied until late hours of the night.
Alas, things never remain quite that simple. Tohma couldn't help but develop a burning jealousy towards the special relationship the other two soon formed and at seeing Eiri grow up, stumbling out of the shelter of Tohma's wing, and trying to fly away from the nest on his own. Eiri and Yuki hardly ever argued and when they disagreed, Yuki had a way of turning Eiri's opinions around without the kid realizing. Yuki had Tohma's precious sharp-minded teenager wrapped around his little finger, and it made Tohma more uncomfortable than he was willing to admit.
More and more often Eiri daydreamed during their time together, his innocent eyes sparkling at the mere mention of the tutor who had become such a nuisance in Tohma's eyes. He ignored his instincts, for Eiri's sake. After a few weeks, Tohma's opinion on the charming Kitazawa took a turn for the worse – he no longer liked him, but rather… loathed the man. Something now told Tohma the tutor was not to be trusted, but he put it down to his own egoistical and somewhat juvenile need to monopolize the youngster he'd grown to like more than anyone else in his life. It was because he felt lonely, he told himself, because he didn't feel needed anymore. As far as Tohma was concerned, they were petty reasons to dislike someone Eiri was so fond of, and so Tohma kept quiet and life took its course.
Because Eiri now had someone else with whom to spend his time, Eiri and Tohma's outings stopped being as frequent and their transcendental conversations were started more out of nostalgia than true need. Their words no longer carried the emotional power and complicity they had sparked before, with conversations dying soon after being started, like the shallow ripples in a pond of still water. Eiri didn't run to Tohma with his literary creations anymore, but sought Kitazawa instead. Eiri didn't question Tohma about the English language or the rhyme of a poem, but Kitazawa. He didn't even ask about equations any more despite the fact Tohma was better at Math than Eiri's tutor. By the time the snow caking the bare tree branches was replaced by sprouts of green leaves, the gap between Tohma and Eiri had widened irrevocably, and Tohma identified Yuki Kitazawa as the perpetrator.
At the beginning of spring, Tohma had gone as far as suggesting they got back to the old days and that he would try to do less work and help Eiri with his tasks, and that they should get rid of Kitazawa. It had been a daring suggestion to make, but one he'd convinced himself made sense. He'd thought about how to present his suggestion for days and after relaying the speech he'd planned, Tohma had finished with a statement suggesting "perhaps it was time Eiri became less dependent upon the help he received". The boy had been puzzled and offended. He'd said some nasty things back at Tohma and left the flat with a loud slam of the door. Eiri's words had rung in Tohma's ears all throughout that day, like echoes locked in a deep valley:
Selfish.
Heartless.
Egocentric.
Clueless.
Each one of them had carved its way into Tohma's heart and killed him inside a little, for he thought Eiri to be right, and that's what hurt the most. Kitazawa was Eiri's friend, he had said. Tohma had felt so guilty and disgusted with himself that he hadn't even reprimanded Eiri or punished him for his little act of delinquency when he'd showed up at midnight, looking tired and crestfallen. Tohma never did find out where Eiri had been that day or why he'd looked the way he had when he came back, but he had an idea. He suspected that Eiri was slightly infatuated with his tutor, and that the teenager's feelings were probably not returned. He didn't like thinking about that in depth, though. Something in his mind told Tohma it was inappropriate and too complicated to do so, not to mention he felt incredibly restless when he contemplated the idea for reasons he could not –and would not try to – muster.
Tohma pulled himself away from reminiscence and stopped looking out of the window of the car. Subconsciously, his hand reached out to pat the one lying on the seat next to his. Eiri remained mute and still. Eiri's hand felt cold against Tohma's skin. Tohma and Eiri had spent the last thirty minutes in traffic, sitting in the back of the taxi, watching yet another big city's lights pass them in a blur. Each person had been immersed in their own thoughts, which had led Tohma to thinking about the past. He found himself pained by dwelling on it, however, and his thoughts had turned darker once more at the possibility of Eiri harboring feelings for Kitazawa, so he'd broken them forcefully. Now he turned his gaze to Eiri who was still avoiding looking into his eyes and keeping dreadfully silent.
They'd taken the cab right outside the airport terminal after collecting their suitcase and going through customs. The air was stuffy and humid outside and the contrast between the fresh, dry air-conditioned interior of the airport and the moisture outside had made them break into sweat almost immediately. It seemed to Tohma that he'd spent a good portion of his life riding taxis now and, had he been under different circumstances, he would have laughed at the unlikelihood of that statement. What was more, Japanese taxis were also yellow, and a strange sense of Déjà vu was invading their ride to Ryuichi's apartment, taking it to a whole new level of surrealism.
Déjà vu: the feeling that you've been there before, at exactly the same place, with the same people, thinking the same thoughts, speaking the same words. Then, for the briefest of seconds, something truly strange happens: you think you can also recall what you did next. Your mind tricks you into thinking you can actually see the future ahead of you and then, as if you were observing a play, your actions aren't yours any longer, but a mere re-enactment. Tohma thought it all to be strange and beyond his scope of comprehension. He refused to think about the past anymore, and his mind switched back to delving into more practical matters. He questioned himself about the idea of bringing Eiri back to Japan so soon; but he'd acted under pressure and chosen what he thought to be the best path.
Tohma reckoned Eiri needed some time alone, away from his family and friends in Japan. He didn't think it would be appropriate to send him back home to Kyoto just yet. Right now, Tohma thought, what Eiri needed most was love, support and understanding from those around him; but Tohma didn't want to force Eiri to share his painful experience with anybody – if he didn't want to – in order to get them. Tohma guessed Eiri wouldn't want to tell the rest of his family members what had happened, so sending him back to the temple in the state he was currently at, would only exacerbate things for Eiri, since his family wouldn't be able to understand his behavior.
To top it all of, the head of the Uesugi clan, an elderly Buddhist monk, would probably look down on both Eiri and Tohma if they appeared in Japan without good reasons to back up their early arrival. That was a situation Tohma wanted to avoid at all costs, for it wouldn't do either of them any good. Eiri would, most likely, be expected to resume his duties at the temple and his studies in a local high school. In Tohma's opinion, however, the teenager wasn't ready to carry on a normal life just yet.
The situation was too delicate to leave it in the hands of fate, but Tohma still didn't know how to handle it. What about his job back in America? What were they to do now? It was going to be very hard to keep it all under wraps, and he hadn't actually given the matter serious consideration yet. It was too much to handle all at once. Despite knowing Eiri was traumatized by the incident, he didn't really know just how he felt about it all. As a matter of fact, Tohma was still in the shadows about what had happened exactly. For once in his life, 'brainchild Seguchi Tohma' didn't know where he was going, or what he was going to do. It was beyond frustrating and painful – it was Hell. Tohma was also worried that Yuki Kitazawa's body would be found eventually, and that the tutor's death be connected to Eiri and himself, despite a lack of records linking the three. There were many things troubling him, many more than he could handle calmly, but he tried to remain strong. One of the two had to, after all, and it would be him without a doubt. He would take it upon himself to make sure everything would be all right.
Tohma pulled himself away from thought once more when he noticed the familiar surroundings. He felt his heart thumping in his chest and realized he was sweating again despite the cool cab interior.
"It's that building up the road. The one with the glass doors and the security guard at the gate," Tohma told the taxi driver.
The guard knew Tohma and he greeted the pair politely when they got out of the vehicle after paying for their fare. He picked up their suitcase from the taxi driver and stepped onto the sidewalk.
"Hello Anzai-san," Tohma greeted the doorman back. "This is my to-be brother in law, Uesegi Eiri."
"Nice to meet you, Uesegi-san," Anzai-san replied with a slight bow. Eiri mirrored the man and bowed politely, too.
"Excuse his quietness. He's really tired from the long journey," Tohma said, putting his hand on Eiri's shoulder and squeezing lightly. He knew that the last thing Eiri wanted to do right now was to engage in a meaningless conversation with a stranger. As a matter of fact, Eiri seemed to be avoiding any kind of interaction with the real world. Tohma would see to it that they broke down the wall of silence he seemed to have erected. One thing at a time, though; all would be dealt with in due course.
When they started walking, Tohma noticed Eiri's walk was strange. He walked slowly, dragging his feet along the floor, his eyes fixed on his own little steps forward. The guard seemed to notice the funny walk, too, but said nothing about it, and slowed down his own walk. Obviously, he had no idea and no reason to think anything of it. Tohma, however, knew the reason: the boy was probably sore from the abuse he'd received. All those hours spent sitting down probably hadn't helped matters at all, either. Tohma felt the pang of pain and guilt again, but he pushed it aside, or else he'd lose all the control he still had over the situation. He walked alongside Eiri, still squeezing the teenager's shoulder. His hand trembled slightly.
Anzai-san tried to strike up small conversation with them. It must be a very boring and lonely job, the guard had, Tohma thought. Although there were probably fun aspects of a doorman's job as well. The guard probably knew the comings and goings of most residents in the building. Most of them were rich people in the entertainment business, who often led an extravagant way of life. The doorman must know who they went out with, where to, who they brought back, and what sort of activities they partook. It could be quite entertaining, if you liked that kind of thing, Tohma thought.
"Ryuichi san left a couple of months ago saying he didn't know when he'd be back. Australia, I think he said he was going," Anzai-san said as they walked through the spinning doors leading into a light pink marble receiving hall.
"He said he'd bring me back a nice present if I took care of his plants, so he left me the keys to his flat. Ukai-san has also come by a couple of times, to make sure I haven't run away with anything valuable or worthy of selling to the gossip magazines. I think she was shocked to find out Ryuichi trusted me with the keys. I'm an honest person, though. I wouldn't take advantage of a nice man like Sakuma-san," the doorman laughed heartily and the vibrations echoed in the hall. "She's very cunning, but she has no reason to worry." The man set the suitcase down and pressed the button to the lift.
Anzai-san took out a white handkerchief from the front pocket of his uniform jacket and wiped his sweaty brow. The man looked hot in his black doorman's uniform with golden buttons clinched up to the neck, complete with white gloves and a black flat hat. "I bet you haven't missed this weather!" he blurted out suddenly. "The rainy season is coming on slowly this year. They said in the news today that it would really kick off today or tomorrow, but I don't believe it. They said exactly the same thing a couple of days ago and we still have no rain. It's just this horrible humidity in the air. I suspect the truth is these so-called scientists have no clue how the weather works, and they don't want to admit it." The lift arrived with a 'bing' and the guard put the suitcase inside it.
"I think you are right, Anzai-san," Tohma replied. "The weather system is chaotic, impossible to predict one hundred percent accurately." 'Just like disasters in life,' Tohma added to himself inwardly, feeling gloomy. Anzai-san gave him the set of keys Ryuichi had given him and asked him to look after Ryuichi's plants during their stay. Tohma pocketed the keys and almost forgot that tipping in Japan wasn't a common thing to do. He then got into the lift with Eiri and used the key Ryuichi had lent him to access the top floor.
"I'll give the keys back to you when we leave. Have a nice evening," Tohma bid his farewell.
"Thank you, sir. You, too," came the reply.
Ryuichi's apartment was the only one at the top of the building, and it was comprised of all of an impressive four hundred square meters. The place was incredibly large, not to mention expensive, for Japanese standards. Tohma dropped the suitcase by the door and took his shoes off in the foyer as he watched Eiri walk through the second door into the large apartment. The floors were made out of cherry wood parquet; the room greeting them after the second door being a large rectangular lounge, scarce in furniture and with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the Tokyo skyline. Eiri pressed his hands to the glass and rested his forehead against the window, leaving a vapor circle there with his breath.
"It's magnificent, isn't it? Ryuichi and I fought for this place, but he won the bet in the end. People underestimate Ryuichi, he's a very clever man," Tohma said as he came walking behind Eiri and stood next to him. From the view out of the window, the people and the trees looked like small toys one could gather and crash in their hands if one so wished and the many colorful lights visible adorned Tokyo city like sparkling garlands on a Christmas tree. Tohma watched Eiri stretch his arms across the window, in a cross position, and turn his face so that his cheek lay against the glass. The flat smelled like it'd been shut for a long time and the furniture was covered in white sheets to keep the dust from settling on its surface. It reminded Tohma of the blanket of snow that had covered New York on many occasions this past winter. That time felt incredibly illusory and far away right now.
"I wish the glass would disappear," Eiri whispered. "I wish it were just me and the lights in the dark, floating. I would let the wind take me and carry me away."
"Eiri…" Tohma clenched his fists at his sides, feeling frustration and emotionally clumsy for not knowing how to comfort him. He looked out of the window, into the starless Tokyo sky. The long winding roads below were filled with speeding cars, their red tail-lights almost static in the distance, like swarms of suspended fireflies glowing in the seemingly endless night. Just like Tohma couldn't see the end of the roads, he couldn't guess what the future held in stock for them, and it'd be foolish to pretend he wasn't afraid. He rested his weight on the glass, too, on his right shoulder, and faced Eiri, whose eyes were closed. The boy's skin looked terse and a bit pale in the penumbra created by the distant backdrop, and the veins underneath it remained invisible to the naked eye. He looked serene and wasn't crying, for which Tohma was glad. After forty eight hours without sleep, hardly any food, and all the stress and emotional tension, they were finally truly alone, back at home; just the two of them, like it should have always been.
"The bastard deserved it," Tohma said without thinking. "You shouldn't feel guilty." Eiri's eyes opened wide. His mouth trembled a little, showing a thin line of white teeth. He opened it to speak but only ended up biting his bottom lip.
"I trusted him," Eiri whispered in the smallest of voices. "How could he do that? Why did he hate me so much? What did I do? I don't understand. I… I…" Eiri bit his bottom lip again, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in a shaky breath. Tohma placed a hand in his back and caressed it soothingly, in slow upward and downward strokes, as if trying to absorb Eiri's pain into himself.
"– loved him. I know," Tohma finished for him. "That's exactly why he deserved it."
A raindrop fell on the window just then, barely missing Eiri's face by an inch. Then another raindrop fell, and then another. Soon enough, the skies torn open and hard rain poured down outside, forming a liquid curtain of water sliding down the glass. It seemed that the meteorologists got it right this time – although late, the rainy season had finally arrived in full in Japan. Tohma moved behind Eiri. He reached out with his hands to bring his arms off the window and into Eiri's chest, where he folded them as Tohma covered them with his own in an awkward hug. The world seemed to come to a stop, but it was all just an illusion, and Tohma knew it.
"Everything is going to be all right," Tohma whispered in Eiri's ear. "I promise." He really hoped he could carry his promise through and he would try his hardest to fulfill it. He rested his chin on Eiri's shoulder and the two watched Tokyo being cleansed by the heavy rain.
For a crazy moment, Tohma thought he could hear that far-away butterfly flap its wings in mid-flight – whoosh, whoosh: an augury of a yet stronger storm to come. Chaos was being set in motion; the arrow of time plunged ahead unhindered.
To be continued
In the next chapter someone else enters the scene and we find out more about what happened in New York. Can Eiri and Tohma go back to a normal life in Japan? Will they be able to fence off the ghosts and demons chasing them? Stay tuned to find out.
One of my favourite Grasper Pictures:
w w w(dot)patosan(dot)co(dot)uk/patimages/NittleGrasper(dot)jpg
New York Public Library:
w w w(dot)patosan(dot)co(dot)uk/patimages/NYpubLibrary(dot)jpg