5: All Things Seem Possible in May
What is, was; what was, will be again; and our whole lives'
Sweetness lies in these meetings that we recognize.
—Osip Mandelstam, Tristia
May's first week is one full of encounters.
You meet Shinjiro for the first time—is it odd to think of it as the first time? still?—and he shrinks into his burgundy trench like it is a shield against death. You wonder if it is not better for him to completely retract from the world, instead of hanging around the edges of it as he is now, only to give his life.
No, you shake your head after the three of you escort Akihiko out of the hospital, the weather is too warm for morbid thoughts. The sun is out, the breeze is mild; even the sound of childish screams is no longer jarring but a pleasant interruption of your thoughts in its shrill briskness.
May is here, like Yukari said, and it is beautiful.
You run into the 'mysterious' foreign exchange student Bebe inside the bookstore. His bobbed hair shines more than the actual sun, and you think that it is rather nice to be reminded of the concerns of the common people. He is French, you know, and you want to make him sing to you Charles Grandmougin's Rencontre.
Et vas-tu rayonner sur mon âme affermie,
Comme le ciel natal sur un coeur d'exilé?
You can almost hear the soft words float out of his mouth, thin lips forming and un-forming words, until you are suddenly awakened, in the middle of the bookstore, where everyone is looking at you, and the last words of their conversation echo in your ears like wasps trapped by the mesh window guard.
You apologize for your moment.
-.-.-
That night you go to sleep early, falling onto your plump pillow that is as sweet as candy, and before you can think 'I am asleep', you are. When you flash into consciousness at midnight, you are so transfixed in your dream-thoughts that you, for a moment, lose all sense of place and self. You cannot be sure of who you are, but then you see Pharos, and you know exactly who he is.
He warns you, and you want to warn him.
-.-.-
The Golden weekend is here, and so is Tanaka's Sunday television program. You want to tell him that no, money is not all that is in the world, because you have so much of it, and yet you still cannot stop this. Or spend the money. It takes creativity to spend money nowadays, so you order everything on the program.
You meet Maiko, and you are surprised, because you had forgotten about her. You get her that weird takoyaki and your call of energy drink—should a little girl even be drinking Mad Bull?—and she is happy.
Maiko downs the can of Mad Bull and smiles at you with a million watts, and all of a sudden maybe you feel like this is the one, this is the time that you will change it all.
-.-.-
Junpei is wildly specific about his coffee. You order a cappuccino because what else is there to order at a cafe, but Junpei wants his Sulawesi beans cold brewed and gets into a mild argument with the barista (do you even call a mall café attendant a barista?)
Junpei insists that he can taste the maple syrup in the round, rich body, and the cold brewing really brings out the dried cherry in the finish. All you can think of is how if you want maple syrup, you'd have some pancakes. It's surprising for Junpei to be so… sophisticated in anything, really. Junpei is video games, manga, and failed pursuit of women—not just that, but well, mostly that.
It's funny how he tries to egg you on to go get Akihiko, and you play the demure girl who's not thinking about how to get that guy out of his uniform twenty four seven. Junpei is the worst wingman in the world, but you like having him as your wingman, if only because no other guy actually feels threatened by his presence.
"… A transfer student swoops in and steals the heart of the boy every girl wants… Don't you think that would be totally cool? Haha, it'd be something right out of a manga."
It's right out of a storybook alright, you think, just not one with a happy ending.
-.-.-
Saori from the library committee reminds you of a modern vampire, with her ghastly pale skin, eyes rimmed on the bottom with smudged eyeliner, and red, red lips. Her hair curls delightfully just around her ears, and you think that it's a shame you don't get to meet Saori when you are a boy. Gender doesn't mean much to you anymore, but it's just easier to be traditional, and you don't really think that makes you a bad person—not that's really a concern of yours.
Still, there's nothing worse than ingratitude, as your mother used to say before she got herself killed. So you say 'thank you' prettily, do that dance about not being polite and formal, and end up with another number in your head.
You get what you can.
-.-.-
The night of the full moon, you stay up reading Reinhart and Rogoff's 2010 book, yawning as you got through the chapter on the cycles of sovereign defaults of external debt—you figure that this cycle, you will be the economist. It hasn't been great so far, and you think about reverting back to manga and light novels—you haven't seen the Read or Die OVA yet.
Suddenly, you get that emergency full moon call and everything blares back into life again.
In the command room, Junpei pisses off the second-wave feminist in Mitsuru, and you barely contain your snicker. Nobody can deny that Junpei holds stereotypical views and faint beliefs in patriarchy, but it is a thoughtless, innocuous sort of sexism that can be destroyed as easily as it is kept. God knows no matter what your gender is, he always has trouble with your leadership.
But he effectively shuts up at the entrance of Mitsuru's Harley. What a babe, you think as you slide your hand over the gleaming surface of its engine, when Mitsuru is too busy shaking all that glorious mane of hair from the helmet.
Of course Mitsuru insists on riding a mass-market sport bike, and letting the custom hand-made, carbon-fibered, twin-engine Bimota Tesi gather dust back home. It's a shame, since there's nothing quite like it, and Mitsuru drives around her hard candy paint American Harley instead. A past you thinks it a crime, old thoughts floating up to you like the reincarnated soul looking into another world.
But there's a train to catch.
It is obvious, from the very first time you step on the monorail, that it is some sort of trap. But when has that ever stopped you? So you gently caress the thought of Orpheus Talos in your mind, her murmuring presence filling the void in the back of your head with a material fullness.
The coffins are a sight. Junpei and Yukari are getting freaked out by the door locking behind you, but the familiar glowing red boxes fill you with something strange, a feeling of evanescence, but also they are the most persistent thing in your life, the solid masses poised there, long and still, like souls on top of a scale, reminding you, amid of all the unrest and battling, that this is what remains after all. They rise up like audience in standing ovation after a play, as the three of you make your way ahead.
And suddenly, there is a shadow.
There is a shriek—Yukari, as she jumps back—and an obscene word—Junpei, as he gives chase and disappears ahead—and you rip out Norn—her ticking announcing her arrival—and sweep the field with wind. Yukari shrieks again, but you are already on your way to the next car.
Eventually, you reach the Priestess.
There is a moment, one moment of bursting clarity, right before you yell out Panta Rhei, but only after you let Yukari and Junpei jab at it a few times so that they feel like they've been useful—it is when you finally move your gaze from its nipples to its eyes, and you meet its gaze from behind its purple mask, and with a shock, you see yourself, in the space where its eyes are supposed to be, suspended.
I'm sorry, you think, because you know this is not what you are supposed to be doing, but can't for the life of you figure out what to do instead. I'm sorry.
To your surprise, it lowers its head just a fraction, as if in concession, as if in forgiveness, before the green blades of wind sever it into pieces and then nothingness.
You stare into the empty space that was the Priestess just second ago, and wonder if you just had a conversation with a Shadow.
Victory doesn't feel like victory. You stay up that night, reading that book you discarded. You end up beginning from the first page again, because every page looks as miserably identical as the next one, and you have no idea where you left off.
At some point, you fell asleep.
-.-.-
Girls will be girls. And that's nothing to do with anti-feminist sentiments, you think as you endure another practice. Apparently, all the bitches went to a group date, and did not invite you (or Rio, but that was a given). At least you know nobody cute was there, since Akihiko would be far too shy, and Shinjiro would just give them the bird if one of the girls asked. There is Taichi from Class 1, who has got the best gray-lavender hair, but you are pretty sure that he's gay with Haruki, who is attractive in a very neatly-plucked eyebrows sort of way.
You pull your thoughts back as Yuko whispers in your ear, her breath warm and moist, delivering a monologue that goes on forever, and by the time she get to the introduction at the end, you are certain that your ears are dripping with condensation and are also inappropriately red.
All you can think of, as Yuko leaves giggling and Rio continues to address you, is that you have to get laid.
-.-.-
Yukari asks you what your favorite flower is. It is chrysanthemums—the golden flower of death that blooms in September, killing the last of other summer flowers. It also tastes good in tea, so very utilitarian.
But you say roses anyway, because you know that Yukari admires the mysterious, mature woman who reeks of rose perfume and rose lotion.
She probably wishes her mom was like that, but you keep that to yourself.
-.-.-
Rio says that she doesn't like romances.
Bullshit, you think. The only difference between people is that some like romance because they're in love, and some are in love because they like romance. You'll be sure to give Kenji some advice over a bowl of ramen—pulled pork belly with two extra soft eggs, as your stomach grumbles—when he gets over that unrealistic teacher crush. Really, who does he think he is, Benji Braddock?
-.-.-
Exams are coming up. Misturu says that she's studying college-level material, and you roll your eyes with Junpei, and only partially to get into his good graces.
Really, college is just plugging in numbers into derivative formulas and bullshitting about Kerouac, just like high school is about plugging numbers into algebraic formulas and bullshitting about Gatsby.
At least the math teacher, Ms. Miyahara, doesn't seem like she can do math herself. Junpei shouldn't be worried as the both of you swear at Grand Theft Auto.
The actual exams are easy enough, not because you're an actual genius, but because you'd be a retard if you didn't get all of it right after so many times.
-.-.-
The highlight of the month is that Akihiko final returns from his long absence.
He is almost as excited as you are—you know how much of a physical tank he is, and you are eager to get his knuckles bloodied, his clothes soaked, his forehead glistening…
You waft in the back as he punches the daylight out of those shadows, admiring the tension in his sinewy form, and maybe Junpei catches you staring once every so often, but you effectively shut him up with a glare and a quickly whispered threat to put him in an embarrassing fighting costume.
Things are falling into place, you think, as the group heads back to the dorm, sore and tired and sucking in the warm night air, and maybe things will be better this time around.