Some days are harder than others.
This is of course still only the beginning. I think.
I find myself absentmindedly walking the same old path down the road after school, whistling a tune and skipping along. Trying to place the feeling of unease churning in my gut, while simultaneously trying to just ignore it.
But neither really matter- because the truth eventually dawns all the same, when I find myself staring at an empty building that once held some of my fondest memories.
Oh, who am I kidding.
The happiest memories I've ever had.
It isn't that the building looks any more or less imposing. Or that it's buried beneath an inch of dust. It isn't as if the office itself is closed.
It's only...not the same.
And my skipping, cheery, whistling self ends as the thick ink of deceit seeps through to the nerve endings of my brain. Coating my darkening orbs from that illustrious cinnamon to a gaze not unlike his own.
And I'm wondering if I was fooling myself all along-imagining that the goofy smile of his brothers could ever be reflected back to me. But somehow I feel I would rather freeze under his gaze than melt under a smile. Not as if it matters anymore.
I look to the ground. I look to my sleeves, but I don't pull them up. Even if the wind has subsided and my skin is starting to pool a fine layer of sweat down my back.
There is no reason to show weakness in front of this building. Not when it seems as if his gaze is still lurking here, waiting for me to call his name again, like I used to.
Naru...
Where are you. Really?
The wind taunts me, as if I can almost hear a breezy reply.
Don't worry, Mai.
Look towards the bottom of the lake.
You'll see him again, one day.
And then I look up. I feel the rain, though the sky remains clear.
I will never come back to this building.
Not again. Not like yesterday. Last week. The months before.
"Because you're only a memory."
Another day awakens me, and it appears not quite alike to the one before. But it never is. Because even if the sky remains blue, grey, or purple, and even if the rain always falls with the same tedious rhythm, something has changed.
Yet the flow of time has ceased to carry me along, and I'm afraid my focus on reality is losing touch.
No, I am simply afraid that if I would happen to focus long enough, I would see the world in a light that isn't suited for the smile delicately painted on my face. I can't be genuine. I can't be naive. So who am I?
Am I Mai?
Or is she in England, buried with the hope that left with a case of forgotten children.
Beep.
"Mai! We've all been worried sick about you! Don't tell me there's 'been something up'. I swear the next time I have to hear one of those lame excuses I will march-" The obviously irate, but frantic woman on the other end of the answering machine was abruptly cut off by a muffled argument beyond the receiver.
Sorry about that, kid, you know how Ayako is."
A few seconds of pause, of which I could almost visualize the eye-roll and subsequent slap from the more childish of the two. Whichever one that is, I'll leave to your imagination.
A deep breath-
"We're just worried, okay? It's been a couple weeks since we've heard anything. Call us back at the office, okay?"
End of messages.
When did I start slumping against the wall like this?
Oh Bou-san...Ayako..