I was absolutely positive that I had the right house, but the longer I stood there in the darkness, the more I began to think that I'd chosen the wrong window. The curtain didn't even shift, and I thought to myself that either Rima was ignoring me, or she thought I was some kind of creeper.
Bending down, I picked up another small stone, turning it over in my hands. The impatient, rash part of me was starting to think that it would be much quicker to chuck a larger rock at the window and shatter the glass completely. However, I knew that this plan, though efficient, would not have a good ending.
Letting out a sigh, I sent the little stone through the air, watching it hit the second-story window with a light tap before falling back to the ground. I waited, but nothing happened. The curtain remained draped over the glass from inside, not fluttering in the slightest.
Annoyed, I glared up at the glass as if it had insulted me. If Rima had heard the stones hitting her window, wouldn't she have at least peeked outside to see who was there? Frustrated, I decided to try one last time; if this didn't work, I would move on to a different window, as I was not the type of person to give up easily. Some would call it persistence—others, stupidity. Either way, I wasn't leaving any time soon.
Picking up another stone, this time a bit larger than the previous ones, I took a deep breath. As soon as the rock left my hand, I flinched—my frustration had caused me to throw the rock a little harder than necessary, and I was afraid that this, along with the larger size of the stone, might do some damage to her window.
Thankfully, the rock bounced off and fell to the ground without any casualties. Almost immediately after, the lilac-colored curtain shifted and was pulled to the side. There was no mistaking the small, round face that peeked out at me. So I hadn't been wrong after all—for that, I was grateful. But I couldn't help but wonder what had taken so long for her to investigate the sound of the stones impacting on the glass.
Although it was dark out, the light from inside her room made it fairly easy to see her—so I couldn't help but laugh when her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed bright red as she shoved open the window. "What are you doing here?!" Rima screeched, glaring at me from above.
I was about to shush her—I had no idea what would happen if her parents found out that I was here, but I knew that the consequences would be severe. However, with the window open, I could hear a series of muffled shouts and a string of profanities, which I assumed were coming from the floor below her bedroom. Somehow, I had the feeling that Rima's parents were too preoccupied to care about their daughter's late-night visitor.
"Good evening, Rima-chan," I said casually, grinning up at her, only causing her blush to deepen. "I'm here, as promised."
"You never said you were coming to my house!" she squeaked, and I stifled a laugh. "What are you, some kind of creeper?!" I'd seen that one coming, so the insult didn't have much of an effect. "You're like that lovesick stalker, Romeo, spying on Juliet from the bushes under her balcony!" This was a new one—Rima was getting more creative.
Unfortunately for her, I was also creative. And I was born with the ability to conjure up a witty comeback in a split second. This was going to be fun. Looking up at Rima, I grinned. "But soft! What light through yonder window breaks? For it is the East, and Rima's in her jammies," I said, taking notice of the nightgown she'd put on.
Rima blushed furiously and glared down at me. "Shut up, you psychotic stalker!" She was repeating insults now—I was starting to think that after tonight, "Stalker" would be my new nickname. To Rima's credit, she'd used a new adjective, though I didn't think that I could really be considered "psychotic" in anyone's book. Well, maybe during a character change...
"Seriously, Rima," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "I told you that we'd talk tonight, so why did you decide to get ready for bed?" It was mostly my fault, because I hadn't really clarified what "talk to you tonight" had meant.
She shouted my own thoughts down at me loudly, her cheeks bright crimson. "Because you didn't say that you were going to show up at my house at midnight!"
I hung my head in mock shame. "You're right, Rima-chan," I said, playing the part with my voice as well. "It's my fault—I'm sorry."
Rima blinked and tilted her head to the side, confusion evident on her face. Taking advantage of this, I smiled up at her and said, "Hey, I'll be stopping by your house around midnight tonight. Oh look," I pointed at myself and grinned. "There I am." I was fairly sure that if it had been anyone else, the girl in the window would've laughed. But this was Rima, the girl that did not laugh at anything I did—even if it was downright hilarious. All my efforts to get her to crack a smile were rewarded with an eye roll and a large, exaggerated sigh.
"Why are you here?" she asked, and I decided that this could be translated as, "You shouldn't be standing on my lawn at midnight and I suggest you leave before I call the police."
Returning the eye roll and sigh, I looked up at her. "Haven't we already established that I'm here to talk, as planned?" I thought I heard her mutter, "It wasn't planned at all..." or something along those lines, but I ignored it.
"And how are we supposed to do that?" Rima barked, and I stifled a giggle at the thought that she sounded like an angry Pomeranian. The first comparison had been "angry Chihuahua," but Pomeranians were cuter, and fluffier. And more dangerous.
"Well, I don't think I can climb up there," I stated the obvious. "So you'll have to come down here."
Rima stared at me as if I'd lost what little sanity she'd thought I had. "Are you crazy? My parents—"
"Somehow, I don't think they'll notice," I said quietly, and in the silence that followed between Rima and I, her parents could be heard arguing downstairs.
Rima looked indecisive, and I was starting to fear that she would refuse to come down, and that I wouldn't get to talk to her at all. She studied the windowsill for several moments, then looked at me. "Let me change first," she called softly, but her eyes held a stern look.
"No, I expect you to come outside in your pajamas," I said sarcastically, and she glared.
"Stay," she ordered, and just to get on her nerves, I barked at her. If I'd had a tail, it would've wagged.
Several minutes later, Rima appeared in the window again—this time, wearing a light blue blouse and a knee-length white skirt. Glaring down at me again, she let out a sigh. "Alright, so how is this going to work?" she inquired, attempting to calculate the distance from her window the ground below. She looked nervous.
"Well, you could take the front door," I suggested. From all the yelling going on in the living room, I figured that it wouldn't make a difference if Rima walked right out the door in front of her parents. But she wasn't going to risk that, and I knew it. She ignored my comment completely, still looking at the ground.
"The only thing you can do is jump," I told her, and her head snapped up.
"No!" she exclaimed, looking absolutely horrified that I would even suggest such a thing. "I'm not suicidal! I'm not jumping out a two-story window!" Her desperate refusal led me to the conclusion that Rima was afraid of heights. Or of falling. Or both. I waited for her shouts to die down before looking up at her.
"Rima, don't worry. I'll catch you." Sadly, this did not comfort or reassure her in the way that I'd hoped. If anything, it had the opposite effect. Her face flushed bright pink and she shook her head furiously, her golden curls bouncing around.
"No!" The single word was powerful enough to tell me that it was going to take some serious convincing to get her to jump.
"Rima-chan, what exactly are you afraid of?" I asked, trying to be empathetic and take her feelings into account.
She stared at me, and suddenly the arrogance was back in her eyes; when she spoke, her voice dripped with it. "Afraid? Oh, no. I'm not afraid at all. I'd just love to jump out a two-story window, fall, hit the ground, break my leg, etcetera." Rima was the Queen's Chair of the Guardians—she was the Queen of Sarcasm as well. But I could understand where she was coming from.
"I said I'd catch you," I reminded her, failing once again to reassure her in any way. Rima was being difficult.
"You'd probably drop me!" she exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at me as if I'd stolen her diary.
Her words stung, and I did my best not to flinch. "Rima-chan..." I said quietly, my voice coming out quieter than I would've liked. "You don't trust me?" I hated the way that I sounded like a sad child that'd just been scolded by his mother, but maybe that might get through to her. At least I wasn't pulling the puppy-dog face like Tadase had tried to do to get me to join the Guardians. I looked up at her, and I hoped that I didn't look too sad. "After everything that's happened? After everything you've told me, you still don't trust me?"
For once in her life, Rima sounded unsure. "T-that's not it..." she said quietly, but she made no move whatsoever that indicated that she had decided to jump. Instead, she just stared down at the ground, not meeting my gaze.
I didn't know what I would do if I didn't talk to her now, because it was impossible to talk to her about this at school. I decided that I would make one last attempt—if this didn't work, I couldn't do anything. I exhaled in a gusty sigh and let my shoulders sag a bit in defeat. "I understand..." I said quietly, looking up at Rima with a small, sad smile. "If you don't want to talk to me, I won't force you." I turned my back to her and started to walk away, casting a glance over my shoulder. "I'll see you later, Rima-chan."
I kept walking, forcing myself not to look back—my desperate attempt had failed miserably; if she hadn't called out to stop me by now, she wasn't going to. I had almost reached the gate when I heard her voice, and though it was quiet, I was able to make out what she said. "Do you promise to catch me?"
I stopped walking, but I didn't turn around or say anything. After a few seconds, she called again. "Do you?" I turned around and looked up at Rima, nodding.
"I won't let you get hurt," I murmured, and I realized that the words had a double meaning to them. "You can trust me." I walked back and stood under her window, looking up at her.
Still looking indecisive, Rima opened her window further and sat down on the windowsill, swinging her legs over the edge so that they dangled outside. She stared down at me, and I could tell that she was frightened. "It's alright, Rima-chan," I assured her, and she closed her eyes tightly before sliding over the edge of the windowsill.
I caught her easily, holding her bridal style—she was so small, and she didn't weigh very much. When she opened her eyes, she didn't look at me. Instead, she stared at her knees, her cheeks rosy red. "This is embarrassing," she muttered, and I let out a soft chuckle before setting her on her feet. Rima smoothed out her skirt and looked at me. "Thank you," she said curtly, and I smiled.
Rima looked around; I guessed that it was around 12:30, and she'd probably never been out of her house this late. "Where are we going?" she asked, turning to me and tilting her head.
"Just taking a walk," I replied, and she nodded. The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable, but it was a little awkward. Rima stared at the ground, still blushing, and I couldn't help but smile.
"Nagihiko," she said quietly, and looked up at me seriously. "I know why you called me out here, and I know there's a lot you want to ask..." She didn't seem hesitant at all, and I figured that after telling me what she already had, I was the only person she could talk to about it. I nodded silently.
"There are a lot of things I was wondering about..." I admitted, wondering if I was coming across as nosy.
"Don't worry about it," she suddenly said. "You're not prying—I'd want to know, too." At times, I honestly wondered if the petite little blonde could read my mind. Either that, or my facial expressions were extremely obvious—both of those were scary thoughts to have.
"Alright," Rima took a deep breath and stared directly at me. "First question?"