Chapter II
Haru loved driving. As a girl, she'd always been driven everywhere, either by her father or his employees. She took the train to see me after I'd moved back home, and she'd commuted to school on the subway- so the need had never been there, and the time had never really been right.
The same year Kunikazu was conceived, though, we bought her a sky blue Volkswagen Beetle and starting practicing. She took to it almost immediately. She loved the freedom of the open country roads, the control her hands had on the wheel. She was great at it, too. When Haru drove, you never worried about her following anyone too closely or coming to an abrupt stop- much like her temperament, a car in her hands was calm and even-kilter. I remember watching her learn to drive, many years ago in spring, the windows rolled down, a cool breeze ruffling her hair, pink sunglasses gleaming against the golden shimmer of the sky. It's an image I think about often.
That was why she was driving today. The sun was shrouded in summer clouds, the windows were rolled up, and there were no pink sunglasses in sight- but still, she held a calm and delicate focus as her eyes scanned the road and the tires coasted effortlessly over the pavement.
We were on our way to Ryuji and Ann's apartment, about two hours out of the city. I always liked to watch Tokyo melt away when we made drives out to the countryside- each building was smaller than the last until the world fell flat, like one colossal wave of concrete breaking onto a beach's shore. Kunikazu was at home with Morgana, who we trusted enough to look after the house. They'd both wanted desperately to come, but school wasn't something Kunikazu could miss, and Morgana understood he couldn't be left alone. Now, without our son here, watching Haru drive in silence, I was reminded of what the world had felt like so very long ago- a world untethered, a world wherein questions might still matter, one wherein I hadn't yet seen my life's purpose so clearly in the deep brown eyes of my newborn child.
When we left this morning, we checked in on the kitchen. Inside, the construction workers were making incredible progress on the damage- in the week that had passed since the fire, they'd almost completely finished restoring the kitchen to it's original state. We'd even invested some extra funds in order to upgrade our infrastructure while we still had the chance: a shiny new stove, all stainless steel and touch-screen enabled, sat covered in plastic on the newly laid floor, ready to occupy the old nook in the countertop. I imagined it sitting there almost smugly, like it knew I had no choice but to eventually forget about the old one.
We needed to be back home pretty early tomorrow in order to approve the finalization of the repairs, but I wasn't worried- the drive wasn't too long, and I was a morning person.
According to Ryuji, our cafe fire couldn't have happened at a better time. Makoto was back home for the next two weeks visiting Sae, and Futaba would be making a trip back to Tokyo this weekend for some sort of license renewal- and so they'd both be meeting up with us at the apartment tonight. Yusuke was supposedly coming as well, although Ryuji's tendency to text a little less than clearly made it difficult for me to know exactly what circumstances had allowed for that.
A special type of anticipation bubbled in my stomach. Time had a certain way of changing people in intangible ways, and I wasn't sure how I'd react if something felt wrong. Sometimes all it took was a different glint in someone's eyes for things to feel foreign.
"What do you think their new place is going to look like?" Haru asked, her eyes still fixed attentively on the road.
"Half pink and half yellow, with a big line down the middle."
She laughed. The car muffled the sound of tires rolling on sun-baked asphalt.
We arrived not too long afterwards at our destination- a modestly sized apartment building nestled amongst telephone poles and framed with criss crossing black power lines that sliced up the sky. I couldn't decide if the partially chipped and faded paint on it's face was charming or not. The late afternoon sun cast shadows of deep black on the pavement.
"Hm," Haru muttered. "I suppose I was expecting something different, although I'm not sure what."
We got out of the car as the scent of summer floated lazily in the heat. She wore a purple sundress and sandals and I wore a short sleeved white shirt and comfortably cool slacks. We looked a bit like tourists who'd taken a wrong turn.
I texted Ryuji to let him know we'd arrived, and we waited at the door to the apartment complex for a short while.
"Do you think the two of them will be alright at home?" she asked.
"He's a better kid than we give him credit for," I replied. "I can't imagine him doing anything drastically irresponsible."
"I hope not."
Suddenly, a series of loud bangs rung out from somewhere behind the door. Their source immediately became clear when Ryuji's muffled voice exclaimed from inside: "Holy shit! Ann! They're here!"
The door swung open and before I even knew it, Ryuji had me in a vice grip of a hug. Ann emerged seconds later, giving Haru the same treatment, coupled with an ecstatic "You're here!"
Haru managed to squeeze out a reply from her affectionate prison. "Yes! It's so great to see you both!"
Nostalgia washed over me like a wave- the entire exchange had the surreal quality of déjà vu. My anxiety melted away in the summer heat as their forms, vivid in every detail and demeanor, brought back memories of countless little moments forgotten.
Ryuji broke off the hug and I was able to see him clearly for the first time in a long while. His skin was weathered, no doubt a result of all the time he spent in the sun as Shujin's track coach, and his previously beach blond head of hair was now dyed only at the tips, with a few flecks of natural grey sprinkled in, as if to accent the pallette. His beaming smile looked the way it always had- earnest and genuine.
"Akira!" he half-yelled. "What took you guys so long?"
"It's a bit of a drive," I replied. "It's great to see you."
Ann came over and gave me a hug, tears welling up in her eyes. "I missed you both so much!"
Her long blonde hair was let all the way down, flowing freely in the light summer breeze. She wore golden hoop earrings and a red blouse. She was still a very beautiful woman, some aspect of time seemingly unable to wear away at the surface of her porcelain skin.
"You look great, Ann."
Her embrace was intimate and real. Ann and Ryuji both held a great capacity for love- despite all the jokes we'd made about the unlikelihood of their relationship over the years, both behind their backs and to their faces, none could claim that they didn't share purity of heart.
"I want to hear everything. You guys have to tell me everything! Oh, right-" she stopped herself abruptly. "You'd probably rather talk inside, right?"
They turned and led us up the iron stairwell, our footsteps echoing and clipping against the metal excitedly and unevenly. Each set of footsteps clashed with the others, giving the entire endeavor an off-kilter musical quality. We climbed so many flights that Haru and I started to pant before we reached the top.
Ryuji's already quite loud voice was amplified here. "Come on Akira, don't tell me you're neglecting your cardio?"
"Not today, I'm not."
We reached the top and followed a long and quite unsightly hallway to their apartment door- white concrete walls and unpleasant scents accented our journey. Eventually, we all stopped at a door near the end. A light flickered like a strobe and hummed loudly above apartment 817.
"Here's us," Ryuji boasted.
He unlocked the door and it swung open with a slight drag on the floor, and we all went in.
My guess back in the car hadn't been entirely wrong- there was a lot of pink, and a lot of yellow. Disheveled felt like a malicious word to use, but I couldn't help that it flashed through my mind. The apartment probably looked pretty normal to most, but Haru and I kept such a tidy living space that the amount of hair brushes, skincare products, makeup, sweatpants and tracksuits strewn across most of the visible surfaces surprised me. As my eyes scanned the room and found more and more stuff everywhere, "trainwreck" joined "disheveled".
"Some view, huh?" Ryuji asked.
I hadn't even noticed the sliding glass door that opened to a tiny concrete balcony towards the back of the room. It overlooked the apartment complex's central courtyard- which was filled mostly with old plastic picnic tables and dying grass.
"It's charming!" Haru offered.
The pair of them led us to the middle of the room, apparently the living room. A large leather couch sat a couple meters from a giant flatscreen TV setup, complete with a Playstation and speakers. This area had probably been the only one they'd cleaned up before our arrival- save for a couple stray pink socks and the occasional soda can, the couch, it's surrounding tables, and the TV stand all looked tidy. I couldn't blame Ann for not bothering with the rest.
"Here guys, have a seat," she gestured. She sounded ecstatic to have us here, like the end of every word would've been punctuated with an excited scream had she not exercised some significant restraint.
We all dropped into the comfortable leather of the slightly reclined couch, relieved to be finished with our eight story climb.
Ryuji spoke first. "The fact that the elevator's been broken for the past month is what's been keeping me in top shape for the summer track season."
"A whole month?" Haru asked, shocked. "You make that climb twice a day?"
"Four times," Ann chimed in. "Because I make him buy me food every night."
Ryuji huffed. "She does."
"I'm not sure how you guys do it," Haru said. "Can't you tell someone about it?"
"There's no way they don't already know," he answered. "Plus, we don't really mind. It keeps us out of the house longer, knowing we have to go all the way back up."
I thought about that. I don't think that would've ever really crossed my mind- to spin a broken elevator into a quality of life improvement.
Ann got up and glided over to the kitchen- one of those kinds that was halfway connected to the living room, with a bar overlooking the couch. "Anyone want something to drink?" she offered. "I'm gonna have you all talking yourselves to death today."
"I'll take a drink," Haru replied, folding her hands politely between her knees.
Ryuji and I both echoed her sentiment.
"Gotcha," Ann confirmed.
Ryuji sighed loudly and contentedly as he stretched his arms up and crossed them behind his head, propping his legs up on the coffee table. "The kid couldn't make it?"
My wife shook her head. "Not this time. He had school."
"He wasn't sad about not seeing his uncle Ryuji?"
"Oh, he was very sad. But I told him you'd visit soon."
"Damn straight I will. Can't imagine how well mannered that kid probably is, bein' raised by you two."
"You'd be surprised," I said wryly. "He takes after you in more ways than one."
Ann returned from the kitchen with a handful of cold drinks and sat them down on the coffee table with a clink. The motion called attention to a stack of magazines I hadn't yet noticed- the top of which featured a familiar blue-eyed lady, beaming at the camera and posed with professional and unmistakable poise.
"What's that?" I asked.
"Oh!" Ann exclaimed. "Sorry, it's kind of embarrassing having them out like that."
"Come on," Ryuji encouraged.
She flushed a bit, but explained anyway. "They're pretty much all unpopular magazines or department store catalogs."
She spread the stack out across the coffee table, revealing a diverse set of periodicals. I counted about twenty of them. Haru took one off the table and we looked at it together.
"That's a catalogue for a mall outside of Osaka," Ann explained.
It was printed on thin, almost newspaper like material with ink that gave it an ugly, muted quality. The catalogue itself was probably only eight pages thick and clearly thrown together to promote some weekend sale- but still, on the very front, for all the world to see, was Ann in a black cardigan and skinny jeans, leaning up against a chain-link fence.
Haru looked up at her. "Isn't this something you've wanted to do since we were kids?"
"On and off," she replied, a proud smile starting to form on her lips.
"That's really amazing."
Ann sat herself on the coffee table, rifling through the stack. "I'd like to get a contract with a big brand," she elaborated. "But for now, it just feels great to be out there, you know?"
"Finally," Ryuji added. "Pretty much everybody turned her away for like, two years straight. And for no good reason."
"What did you guys do during that time?" Haru asked, concerned.
"Ryuji worked a whole lot. He got a night job at a ramen place down the street."
He nodded proudly, holding up one of the glossier and thicker magazines from the stack. "And it payed off!"
My wife exchanged a quick glance with me. "Two jobs for two years?" Her eyes seemed to ask. It was definitely an incredible showing of commitment, especially for a couple who hadn't even tied the knot yet.
"The drinks! I forgot."
As July haze settled outside the window in the hot evening and the air conditioning hummed somewhere above, Ann passed around a can of beer to each of us, frosted and cold to the touch. I was a little surprised- I hadn't been expecting alcohol, and judging from the look on Haru's face, she hadn't been either. I couldn't even remember the last time we drank. Sometime long before Kunikazu, that was for certain.
"Oh," Haru said sheepishly, placing her can back onto the coffee table. "I think I'll pass. Thank you very much, though."
"Suit yourself," Ryuji dismissed, leaning back and cracking open his beer with a crisp hiss.
"Well, it's there if you want it," Ann assured her.
I thought it over for a minute, but decided I'd have one. Here, in this strange other world, the reality of our lives in Tokyo felt a lightyear away. The summer air and cadence of conversation had put me in the spirit to go along with whatever our hosts had in mind, and if they wanted to have a beer with me, I wouldn't object. The cold and bitter taste of it fizzled onto my tongue.
"So, the fire? What was that like?" Ryuji asked.
"It wasn't pretty, that's for sure," I answered, taking another sip. "The moment I saw it, it felt completely surreal. You never think you're going to see that sort of scene in front of your home. It feels out of place."
"Haru, you were there, right?"
"Yes, I was," she replied hesitantly.
"How bad was it? Is it the entire bottom floor?"
She started to fidget with her hands.
"No," she shook her head. "It was just some of the kitchen. They've almost entirely repaired it already."
"Oh, well that's great," Ann added.
"It is."
Suddenly, there was a deafeningly loud and startlingly frantic bang on the apartment door. Haru jolted with a quiet gasp, but Ryuji and Ann only seemed to exchange a knowing and excited glance with one another.
"Finally," Ryuji huffed, vaulting over the back of the couch towards the door.
"Who is it?" I asked.
"Your favorite," he replied.
We all stood as Ryuji swung the door open. Standing impatiently in the doorframe was a woman I hardly even recognized at first- Futaba Sakura. She looked taller now than I'd ever remembered her being- at least as tall as, if not taller than, Haru. I didn't think she could've actually grown from the last time I'd seen her- it must've been something about how she carried herself. Her shape had grown more slender and her eyes still shone behind her new wire-framed glasses with that well-read and self-assured glimmer I'd nearly forgotten entirely. Her hair was cut shorter, too- it flowed with a faintly tousled wave to her shoulders, where it abruptly stopped, cut cleanly and evenly with a clinical flair. A sharp wit radiated from her. She came inside and immediately spotted Haru and I.
"Well I'll be damned. It really is you two."
"We found some time," I answered.
She came over to us and gave me a hug. It felt different than the hug Ann had given- it was reserved and tentative, like it was a moment she was capturing in her mind to store forever.
"You're an asshole, you know," she told me matter-of-factly.
"Why's that?"
"You gotta call more. A lot more."
She broke off the hug and turned to embrace Haru. It didn't share the same tenderness- she and my wife got along just fine, but they'd never been particularly close. I'd often wondered why that might be. Perhaps they were just different types of people, was all. Sometimes a tiny stopwatch mechanism deep inside a person's heart just refuses to move. I couldn't be sure why.
"It's great to see you," Haru said.
"You're keeping him fed, I hope?"
"He's keeping me fed most days."
"He's gotta be a good housewife."
"I try my best," I said.
Futaba turned and greeted Ryuji and Ann, casually and comfortably, like she'd just seen them last week. She was obviously no stranger to this apartment. Then, she spotted the cans of beer on the coffee table. "Ho boy," she sighed. "You guys are getting plastered already?"
"I wish," Ryuji lamented.
"How about we open up the porch?" Ann suggested.
We all nodded in agreement. My skin felt parched for sunlight. She got up and opened the sliding glass doors, letting the hot air billow in, feathering my face with golden warmth. It wasn't too hot- the air conditioning assured that- but it was instead just right, the perfect sensation, the kind that changed to be pleasant the very moment it became uncomfortable.
The sun hung low in the sky as we all talked about nothing in particular.
We drank a bit more and a subtle warmth spread out all the way to my fingertips. The sun had almost set behind the courtyard wall, the sky crimson and peach, rivers of color floating in gas.
Eventually, another knock came at the door- this one of normal volume.
Ann got up and opened it, revealing Makoto standing calmly in the hall. She wore a professionally pressed white shirt, a long black skirt, and a pearl necklace, all of which gave her a wealthy aura, like an actress. Her hair was longer now, down well past her chest, those same piercing eyes now somehow harsher, like her gaze could cut through steel. It had been ages since I'd heard that prim and proper edge to her voice.
"I'm sorry we're late. Both of us were held up in different ways."
From the hallway emerged Yusuke, who must've only been a couple feet behind. His hair was the same medium-length razor clean cut, his calm disposition unwavering, his politely held hands steady. He wore a blue shirt, buttoned all the way down with flawless care, black slacks, and dress shoes. He'd changed so little since the last time I'd seen him, it was as if he were some sort of android.
"If it isn't Inari," Futaba observed, moving in to give him a powerful hug.
"I wish that name would die," Yusuke insisted, the air hardly escaping his mouth.
"You're late," she scolded.
"Apologies," he conceded. "There was some sort of drastic delay with the trains."
"And I started heading over here the moment I unpacked," Makoto explained. "It's been a nightmare of a day."
Ann hugged them both, one in each arm. "Well come in, come in!"
They did so, Makoto with authoritative poise and Yusuke with a graceful gait.
"My," Yusuke observed. "This place is an absolute disaster."
"Hey now," Ryuji rebuddled. "It's homey. It's uh… lived in. Your place probably gives people the creeps."
Yusuke chuckled. "I very much doubt that."
Ann waived the complaint. "I know, I know. I have to clean. We're always busy."
"Don't worry about it for a second," Makoto assured her. "I'm just at ease to finally be here. The past few days have been stressful beyond what you'd believe."
"Here," Haru offered. "You must be tired. Let me take your purse."
"Oh, thank you Haru. I'll be okay, though."
Ann pulled in some more seats from the kitchen and put them out in front of the open sliding glass doors.
"Ryuji and I will take the stools," Ann offered. "You guys take the couch."
Our two new guests put down their things and took a seat.
"As you can see," Futaba gestured to the open bottles that littered the space. "We're having a bit. Don't feel pressured."
Makoto played with her hair in thought. "I don't have it in me tonight, I don't think."
Haru looked concerned. "What exactly happened, Makoto-chan?"
"Well," she explained. "First of all, the flight in was a nightmare. We hit some storm on the way over, my seat was way too small, and I had to sit next to this obnoxious American tourist who wouldn't stop asking me about my 'culture'."
"Ugh," Ann empathized. "It's the worst."
Futaba suddenly held up her hand. "Wait, wait, wait, Makoto-"
"Yes?"
"I wanna hear the rest, I really do- but does anyone else feel that breeze?"
We all stopped and felt it. It rolled in over saffron black summer hills and onto the wood floor, smelling of soil and freshness and life. My hair swayed back and forth as it cooled my face like mint.
"Ryuji," Futaba inquired. "Can we go to the roof? Remember last time?"
He looked to Ann, who shrugged and smiled.
"I don't see why not, it's a beautiful night. Everyone okay with that?"
We all nodded. I wanted to take my hands and pull the open sliding glass doors up and around me, so I could feel that breeze from every angle at once.
"First-" Ryuji announced. "We're taking a roof shot."
"But we aren't on the roof…" Haru pointed out.
"No, no, like a we're going to the roof shot."
"You're an idiot," Futaba pointed out. "But I'm down."
Ryuji got up from his stool and took a giant bottle of liquor from some cupboard in the kitchen, along with an armful of shot glasses, and sat everything down on the coffee table. Some of the glasses were simple and plain, a few multicolored, and one from some tourist attraction, a faded logo of some sort printed on it's side.
"What is it that we're drinking, exactly?" Yusuke asked.
"It's uh…" Ryuji read the label as the drink sloshed in it's bottle. "Nihonshu."
Yusuke grinned, satisfied. "That's great stuff."
"Let's hope."
Haru looked at me hesitantly. I shrugged.
"Alright," Ryuji commanded. "Pick one and line 'em up!"
I took the green glass and Haru took a pink one. We each lined up the glasses we'd chosen in a neat row near the end of the table, everyone having selected one with the exception of Makoto.
"I thought you weren't drinking, Haru?" Ann looked concerned, like she didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable.
"I don't know," she replied. "I don't want to ruin the mood."
"Just don't push yourself if you don't want to."
Ryuji poured the bottle messily across the line of six little shot glasses. Ann gasped a little as some sloshed onto the table. "Don't make a mess!"
"Okay!" Ryuji picked up the first glass, and handed it to Ann. "First, for my beautiful model, Panther. May your days become more and more booked, and may your dreams come true."
"Why, that was sweet. You still shouldn't have poured the drinks like that."
"Next!" he announced, turning to Yusuke. "for our illusive and mysterious disappearing artist, Fox- who occasionally vanishes from the face of the earth to draw inspiration from alternate dimensions."
Yusuke took the glass respectfully. "I know I can be difficult," he admitted. "But I try my best."
As he passed over Makoto, he gave her a curt nod. "None for Queen," he said. "But we all should applaud her iron will."
"I would if I could," she explained.
Ann rolled her eyes. "He's just being an ass."
He targeted Futaba next. "And now, a drink for our friend Oracle, who never fails to show up when we need her."
She nodded with honor and took the shot glass from him. "You two aren't gonna look after yourselves."
He looked at the table, hands on his hips. "Two left."
"At least there won't be much more of this," I observed.
Ryuji picked up the glasses. "Shut it, people!" He approached Haru. "And next, for the sweet and caring Noir- may you never realize how below your level you settled."
She took her glass with a little bow. "I couldn't ask for higher praise, Ryuji."
"Last, and definitely least," he turned his attention to me. "Joker." He handed me my drink. "It's good to see you, buddy. I'm glad you two could make it."
He raised his glass. "To the Phantom Thieves!"
A chorus of voices repeated his call with a vague undertone of embarrassment, like we all knew how ridiculous we were being. We clinked our glasses. I tilted my head back and nearly choked as the industrial-grade drain cleaner scorched my throat. I coughed violently, a dizzy ripple pulsing through the back of my spine. Apparently, some were better at this than I.
"Damn Haru!" Ryuji exclaimed. "You downed that like a veteran!"
"There's a side to me none of you see," she said shyly. "The closet alcoholic." She placed her glass back on the table daintily.
Ryuji grinned, amused. "Fuck it, then. Let's do one more."
"Oh, come on," Ann complained. "Don't make this a thing."
Yusuke looked at Ann blankly, like he hadn't taken a drink at all. "I'm fine for one more."
"Same here," Futaba agreed.
They looked at us expectantly. I gave a little nod. "Yeah, sure."
"Alright…" Ann conceded.
Ryuji filled another set of shots to the brim as the sun finally disappeared from the sky, like it had never been there at all. The shadows grew long and black and took over the room. I took another drink and everything started to subtly move.
Ryuji held up both hands, like he was trying to stop an invisible train. "Okay, everyone- missions. Akira, Haru: you two get half the chairs from the closet in the bedroom. Futaba and I will get the other ones from the hall closet."
"Hell yeah," Futaba cheered.
"Makoto and Ann, I need you two on drink and snack duty. We're counting on you."
"Alright," Makoto agreed, something in her voice a little uncomfortable, like she hadn't been expecting to walk into this scene tonight.
"And Yusuke and I will get the hatch open."
"The hatch?" I asked.
"Yeah, the hatch. They don't let just anyone onto the roof, it's restricted. But-" he fumbled with his keys in his pocket, pulling them out and showing me a small silver one. "We have connections."
"To the janitor," Futaba snorted.
"He's a nice guy."
We split up to fulfill our duties. I could walk fine, but I wasn't careful I could feel the building sway in the wind. Haru and I journeyed to the bedroom, where we were met with little rolling hills of dirty laundry piled in corners and an unmade bed that looked cool and comfortable. The lights were off, and I didn't care to find the switch.
I looked around for a closet, but only saw the harsh fluorescent light of the ajar bathroom door. "We need to find the chairs," I thought aloud.
"Maybe there's a closet in the bathroom?" she suggested.
We crossed the threshold from carpet to tile as we entered, cheap ugly lights humming angrily at us like a hornet's nest. The mirror and sink were immediately in front of the door, creating an almost eerie scene as I watched the two of us emerge from the soft black into the harsh light. I caught myself staring at my own image, just drunk enough that I could see myself as another man entirely if I tried to. He looked tired, like somebody I'd have seen on the train in my youth and not given a second thought. I noticed that she must have had the same inclination, tousling the back of her hair self-consciously, her eyes darting up and down her own body.
"I wonder how Ann stayed so beautiful," she wondered aloud.
"I'm sure she wouldn't look good in these lights," I assured her.
"Hm," she thought to herself, "maybe not." Then she sort of stumbled without moving, catching herself on my arm. "We're a little drunk."
I laughed. "I think so, too."
"Is this okay? Is what we're doing alright?"
"I don't see why not," I answered.
To the left was a little closet door, one of those kinds that was barely half the width of a normal one. I opened it up and was met with countless shelves filled with hundreds of skincare products and makeup brushes. Towards the bottom there was a little area free of shelves, where three foldable chairs rested in a cobweb force field.
My wife recoiled a bit. "Oh… we need to help them out with this place."
"I think they embrace the chaos."
"I don't. I could hardly handle your room at LeBlanc."
I reached in and brushed aside some cobwebs, fumbling and nearly losing my balance as I pulled the seats out of their nook. She stabilized me, dainty hands on my back.
Two of them were red, printed by some third party company with the Shujin academy logo in black on their back supports, and the third was a dark and old green. I imagined it might have been passed down to them by some family member, now dead and gone.
"Do you think we should clean the spiderwebs and grime off?" Haru asked tentatively. "I wouldn't want to sit on that."
It looked like the red chairs were mostly clean, but the older looking green one was covered in quite a bit of grime.
I turned on the sink. After a brief delay, it sputtered to life, hissing white noise as it released a pillar of water. I picked up the green chair and ran it under the faucet, making sure to rotate it and soak it from every angle, only after a couple moments realizing how idiotic I was being.
Haru started laughing quietly, holding her hand over her mouth. "What are you doing?" she asked.
"I figured I'd clean it," I said.
Her voice cracked with amusement. "But how is that going to clean anything? You're just getting it wet."
I thought about it. I wasn't sure. At least the cobwebs were gone.
"Hm," I observed, removing the now dripping chair from the vanity. "I guess I'm a little further gone than I thought."
She continued to laugh as I picked up the rest of the chairs and carried them out, the green one leaving a damp stain on my shirt. I hadn't heard her laugh that honestly in a very long time. I felt like if I'd been sober, I'd have something to say about the way it sounded. But for now I was just happy and drunk and stupid, and so was she.
When we emerged from the dark and soft atmosphere of the bedroom, everyone was loitering around by the apartment door, talking amongst themselves. A stack of similar-looking folding chairs rested against the wall, ready to be taken. Makoto held a couple bags of snacks, doing something on her phone. Ann carried a bottle of liquor in each hand.
Ryuji saw us enter. "Everyone ready?"
"Yes, we are." Haru answered. "Akira put one of your chairs in the sink."
Ryuji shot me a confused glance. "What, man?"
"Let's just go," I replied.