My name is Chikage. How people address me changes, depending on their position. Chikage-Chan. Chikage-san. Or just plain Chikage. No one said it better then my mother, stroking my white hair as I fell asleep as a child. Melodies floating in and out of my head. But since I left home years ago, I never head that loving whisper again.
But I was 17 now, and with my mother long gone, I was alone. Training for a future career I know I would be good at. I could smell talent- My teacher told me. At first I thought it was ridiculous, but now I know it's a great thing to have. I train now to become a talent scout- one that will make people smile and cry.
I babble. Sorry.
Stepping through the door of the studio I have been training at, I take in the fresh smell of air conditioning.
"Chikage- You're late."
Sigh. Good ol' Yamada.
My teacher, my sensei, Yamada-san, a well known talent scout puffed on his Cuban cigar, an angry gleam in his coal black eyes. "5 minutes is everything, in this world. In five minutes you can gun down a pimp, overdose on heroin! Demerits for you, Chikage." He shakes his balding head.
He loves to over exaggerate. I know.
I don't respond and walk over to my temporary desk in the corner. I have a beautiful view of Sparrow Park, and sometimes you can hear the wannabe singers belting out tunes from the latest albums. Terrible background music.
He glances at me, and I can see it out of the corner of my eye. He doesn't look very happy. But I don't take his shit.
Wordlessly, breathlessly, I stand up, the scraping of my cheap chair making a teeth gnashing noise, and leave the room. I can't stand the man, personally, but he does dole out my pay check, and sometimes some good advice. I walk down the hall.
The floor is checked a pale blue and white, and the scuff marks bring more attention then the worn down, but fluorescent, white-yellow walls. The building is nearly empty, and the only sound within earshot is the clicking of my shoes.
I turn a corner. Another corner. Within minutes, I'm lost in the maze of the 3rd floor. I don't mind.
Usually I don't run from my problems. I face them like a man… But Yamada, he's too big of a problem. If I faced him and spoke my mind, I'd be fired-
I stop dead in my tracks. I heard something.
The sound gets louder. It sounds like a person. A robber? Theif? I don't have time to think about things like these. I step back against the wall the sound came from, and press my ear against the oak door.
A muffled voice.
"-rap, Holy crap, Holy crap, Holy cr-" I tune the person out and lean in to peek through the glass in the door. But it's too dark, all I can see is the figure of the… young woman? I don't know. But she looks too. She sees me.
Dokun, dokun.
I throw open the door and pull the most menacing face I can. "I'll have you under arrest for trespassing, ma'am. Drop your weapon and place your hands behind your head!" My heart is beating like crazy.
The young lady looks confused. She has light, thin hair to the top of her shoulders, and the biggest blue eyes I have seen hide behind a few strands. The woman looks about my age, 16 or 17, but I can't be sure. Her outfit is burgundy based- a deep burgundy army looking jacket, with gold trim and buttons. Her skirt looks choppy, as if she were to have cut it with scissors. Besides her goofy appearance, she is beautiful.
"Sorry?"
We both hesitate for seconds, and then in the same split second, we both move. I run towards her, and she to the window.
"Wait! You won't get away!" I yell, reaching out to grab her. But she is ahead of me, and eventually slings a leg over the window sill. Her face is terrified when she looks down, but scared shitless when she looks in my direction. She swings another leg over.
"Dummy, we're on the third floor!" I grab the cuff of her jacket and pull back, but her hands grip the edge of the window sill.
"Let go of me! I'm not here to steal anything!" She screams at me. I finally pull hard enough to get her to come crashing down onto the hard scuffed floor.
With a THUNK, she's on the ground. Her eyes squeeze shut.
"Ma'am, who are you, and why are you here?" I ask, confusion clear in my low voice.
"Why AM I here?" She sobs.
.. . ..
In an hour, we're both in a nearby café, sipping lattes- free lattes, of course, from the horny old man who runs the café hoping to get some kind of girl. She stares at me deeply, a milk moustache whitening with every sip. "What's the date?" She asks me.
Now, looking into her eyes, I realize they are really blue with gorgeous green flecks.
I check my futuristic watch. "Um, September 21st, 19XX." I reply quickly, giving her a questioning glance. She bites her lip.
"It worked…" She muttered.
"What?"
"What…?"
I thought so.
I set down my plastic cup. "So. What were you doing in that building?" I ask her seriously. She avoids my stare casually.
"I dunno. I just was, I guess." She shrugged.
I look her over once more. Since what happened in the building, I had taken her across the street, where there were witnesses. So if she tried to stab me, she would be taken down. But let's think positive.
She avoids all of my questions, and the only one I've had a straight answer to is a simple, "What's your name?". Takigawa Mao, she had said.
"How did you get in?" I ask, dying to scream out accusations.
Another shrug. "A door?"
I sigh and close my eyes. "Not good enough. If you don't want to be arrested where you stand, I need answers. Now." Inside my brain, the little information I have of the situation swirls like storm clouds on the horizon. But with a storm, the sunshine is gone and the rain is there. But the only thing decreasing is my patience.
Mao sighs, propping her chin up with a dainty hand. "I don't know what happened. But I was suddenly in one place, and then another. Details I don't have." A look of longing replaces the cheery girl's features.
I've always been able to think harder with my eyes closed. So I darken the light and place a hand over my eyes.
Sounds like a small case of amnesia. Or sleep walking? The whole story was a Loop de Loop of confusion. I was developing a bigger headache every second.
"Do you live with your parents?" I ask quietly.
Mao stirs the foamy drink for a few seconds. "Not really."
I study her face for a bit. "Not really, what is that supposed to mean?" I mutter.
"It means… My parents aren't with me. They're far away." She looks at me while she speaks for the first time. "Chikage kun, I'm not from here."
I'm a bit shocked. Not only did she answer a question, but she said something helpful. "Where about?"
She's quiet for a minute. "Somewhere farther away. More futuristic. Somewhere advanced, and…"She stops short of her sentence. "Oh, Chikage kun! Where do you live again?" She says with a smile. Her serious side is gone like a ghost.
"Chikage-San..." I mutter out of her earshot. "Around the gas station area, about 10 minutes of a walk away from here. In the old apartment building. Why do you ask?"
Mao shrugs, still grinning. "Lets have a sleepover!" she exclaims. Loudly. Heads turn and I turn bright red.
"Pardon me!" I yell, also very loud.
She puts on a pouty look, attempting to look cute. "I need a place to stay for the night, until I'm able to find a job and grab a place."
Unbelievable.
I take back what dignity I lost, and cough, glaring back at the rude onlookers. "You've got to be kidding me. I don't house strangers." It was simple enough.
She immediately stands up, and her chair skids for feet. She slams her hands down on the table, desperate, fearful eyes covering her face. She looks vulnerable, I think to myself.
"Chikage kun, I was in an accident. I'm no one here. Nobody. I know no one, and hell, nothing. For me, now, it's a fight to stay alive sleeping on the streets. And I am not sleeping in a box." She protests.
Her story was shady, like the character she was portraying. "…"
"I'll give you answers. I'll be in hell. But I'll say what you want me to say." She sits back down slowly.
I sigh. I'm worried, nervous, call it what you like. The girl is beautiful, but she could just be a scam artist. She sounds genuinely worried. Scared. But I was like her, once. When my Oka-san died. I felt like… Nothingness.
"I want answers. I need answers." I say with a nod. She smiles, relieved. But I left out the line I wanted to say most.
I feel like I know you.