"What did Lilly want to talk to you about?" I ask Hanako as she slips into her seat next to me at the bell.
"Ah..." She cringes in her seat as the teacher looks in our direction. "L-Later." I nod and pull out my notes like I was supposed to, settling in for a long and quiet series of classes...
...
Sometime between one or the other, a note finds its way to my desk. It's unsigned, but the sender is obvious, even if I didn't recognize the purple ink and the careful handwriting.
"Are you free tonight?"
My heart pounds in my chest as I glance at the girl next to me. She avoids looking at me as I consider my reply.
"Yes. Did you have something in mind?" I place the scrap back on her desk. She looks at it quickly and smiles.
"Could you join Lilly and I for tea?"
A sudden disappointment runs through me. The way she had worded it, I had thought... Still, though, this is an interesting opportunity.
"Sure." I pause, trying to remember the name of the quaint cafe we visited during the night of the festival. "Is it the Shanghai?"
"No, in Lilly's room. Is after dusk okay with you?"
"Yes. She lives in the dorms, right? What room number?"
"225. See you there." The hasty end to the conversation is punctuated by our next teacher walking in. I quickly crumple up the paper and shove it into my pockets.
As we hastily pull out our notes, I catch Misha and Shizune giving us a speculative look. I frown at the former disapprovingly. She sticks her tongue out at me before sending her attention forward once more.
Oh boy. I hope I haven't inadvertently caught their interest. The last thing I need is a conflicting schedule. After all, I'm supposed to help out the Student Council...eventually...
I don't know why I feel like I owe them anything. No, I don't owe them a single thing. But my desire to help them isn't born out of the need to repay some kind of imaginary debt.
...
After class, I cite the need to finish my homework to avoid any chance at the Student Council duo intercepting me and wander off to my dorm to get it done as quickly as I can. Time slowly crawls by as I steadily fill the last of my worksheets with my messy scrawl before filing it into my folder
There's still a lot of time left until dusk, an hour before sunset, I think.
I guess now is as good a time as any to finish my perusal of the auxiliary buildings.
…
"Turn around, Mr. Nakai." I cringe at the familiar voice and turn to see the Nurse stepping out of his office behind me, looking pleased. I had been trying to avoid this very thing by quickly and confidently walking past the open door to escape notice, but the predator was not fooled. I quietly debate the merits of turning tail and fleeing before deciding that it would be unwise to antagonise the one with control over my medication.
"Hello." I reply, monotonously.
"I have something interesting for you. Please, step inside." He says, that cheeky grin on his face.
"Interesting? For you or for me?" I ask.
"That depends. Do you want to have this discussion in the hallway where anyone can walk in on us, or do you want to come inside?" He asks, raising an eyebrow. I make a face.
"Fine, fine." I head in. I like the Nurse well enough, but I hate hospitals and everything related to them, and his office bears enough of a resemblance to make me uneasy. He shuts the door behind me and I take a seat as close to the door as possible.
"I see that Emi has been in a brighter mood, recently. I suppose I have you to thank for that?" He asks, taking a seat at his desk. If he is bothered by the abnormal distance, he doesn't make any indication of it.
I guess that my actions really did make her feel better. Of course, I have no interest in telling the Nurse that.
"Do you?" I ask neutrally. Let him draw his own conclusions.
"Ohohoho. Interesting." On second thought, that might be a bad idea.
"Whatever. What did you really want to talk about?" His grin widens.
"Touchy, touchy. Anyways, there's another trial medication here for you. It goes along with most of the stuff you have already, though it won't react well with Formula 52. But you're almost done with that, right? Just return the rest." He says, pulling out the bottle of pills in question.
"What does this new medication do?" I ask, curious, but not particularly hopeful.
"This one is Trial 14, and it goes hand in hand with Trial 12, which you're already taking. Basically, it's the improved version of Trial 5." He says, handing the bottle to me.
Trial 5. That's one name I won't forget.
"You mean the one that gave me crippling headaches in exchange for improved tactility, right?" I question. "How is it any better? Is it even any better? Are there other test subjects? Have they killed themselves yet?"
The Nurse winces slightly at my pointed barbs, probably remembering Trial 11. That one had claimed to do the same thing, and it was far worse. It worked without problems for a day or so with little issue at first, but sent my mood crashing down and I tried to kill myself twice.
It took months to reverse those effects. Months of waiting by myself in the hospital, on suicide watch and later, with therapists.
That experience is probably why I've stopped waiting for some kind of cure or successful suppression drug. After all, I'm just the human rat. Nothing polished is ever going to be developed off of me.
"I don't know the specifics." He deflects, and I deflate, realizing that I'm taking my anger out on the messenger.
"Sorry." I say. "I didn't mean to snap like that." The Nurse shrugs.
"It happens. Have you noticed any unusual side effects from the cocktail you're currently taking?" He asks.
I admittedly haven't been paying too much attention. My little episode back on Monday is something to be concerned about, and I've been trying to avoid the Nurse to avoid talking about it...but caused by my medication? I don't think so.
"I haven't noticed anything outside of the ordinary." I reply.
"Really? So you haven't noticed, say, any depressive effects?" He responds dryly. I cringe.
"I don't think that had anything to do with the medicine." I say defensively.
"Oh? Then what did it have to do with?" He asks.
"Teenager confidentiality." I say seriously. "Sorry. My lips are sealed."
My confusion with Hanako is definitely something I don't wish to discuss at all. With anyone. Ever.
"Alright, Nakai." Suddenly, the Nurse looks serious. "I trust you know where to go if you need help, right?"
"I do, sir." I reply. I might not be happy about it, but I won't take stupid risks with my health. My life might not be the best, but it could certainly be worse.
"Okay. Take one of those pills now, and then once every morning, a single pill. Don't forget to quit Formula 52. Bring whatever's left to our morning meeting so I can dispose of it, okay?" He lectures. I try to look like I'm paying attention. We both know that I've heard this basic medical stuff dozens of times by now, which is why he's so lax with what I do.
"Yup." I pocket Trial 14. "See ya."
Whoosh. I dash out of the office and to safety. I should head up to my dorm to get ready for the tea party. Except...there's one more thing I want to see...
...
Of course she isn't here. The mural is long since done. Truthfully, I'm not even sure why I'm here. I guess...I just wanted to see. To try to see what Rin sees in this. A mural, painted to be a mural...
I step forward to trace the outlines of paint, staring into the colors to see if they mean anything.
Could I do it? Create something without knowing what it was?
No, I don't think I could. I'm not a very creative person. That's why I copy memories, rather than making brand new ones. But I think that there is value in both.
Slow footsteps behind me alert me to someone else's presence. I tilt my head to look.
"Hey, Rin. How are you?" I ask. "Or, rather, why are you here?" The redhead blinks.
"It's my mural." Rin replies, blankly. A pause. "...I think. Why are you here?" Rin asks. I smile slightly.
Rin doesn't seem to have changed a bit, though I haven't seen her since our erratic conversation before the festival. It's been quite a while since then, though.
"I'm not sure." I confess. "I..." I trail off, not sure what I want to say. There was something...
Murky green eyes affix themselves on a point somewhere behind me. On her mural, I think, or maybe she's just looking through me.
"Do you need help finding your reason?" Rin asks suddenly.
"...No." I say. "I don't think I need a reason." The redhead looks confused; well, more so than she usually does, anyways.
"Don't you need a reason? Like my mural. An idea. About painting a mural." I frown. It's a familiar expression around her. I open my mouth to respond -
And then I close it, because she makes an unexpectedly logical point. I can't tell her that I don't need a reason for visiting after I told her that she needed an idea to paint her mural.
"I guess I do." I concede. She stares at me solemnly, mouth stubbornly shut.
This is more awkward than I thought it would be. My neck hurts, too. I realize that my body is only half-turned towards her and can't decide whether to shift facing Rin or the mural.
I finally decide to take a seat down on the pavement, staring at the long-dried paint in front of me. Here and there, I can see the colors that I help mixed sporadically scattered around the wall, forming together to create a cohesive idea of something.
"What do you see...?" I ask, quietly.
"A mural." Rin deadpans. I shake my head slightly. All these pieces put together, bodies and eyes and faces.
"Then why paint this and not something else? A mural of a butterfly field, perhaps, or something else? Why this?" I question. She's given me an answer before, but I realize...that I can't accept it any more. It's not good enough.
"I don't know." Rin says, and as I shift to face her I see an odd expression of something flash through her eyes.
I can't help but think that this mural isn't as random as Rin seems to believe, as random as I want to believe, but there's no answer to be found here.
"I understand, a little." I say. It's an empty thought. I don't understand at all. I want to, but I don't.
It's as simple as that, perhaps. I may never understand Rin, either.
But I want to. I really do.
But I don't know how...
"Do you like to paint?" I ask Rin. She nods firmly. This much she knows, a concise and determined answer so unlike any action she normally exhibits.
"Why do you like to paint?" Her eyes affix themselves on my face, suddenly piercing. I meet them, probing brown clashing with focused green.
"I have to." She says. Her empty sleeves flap in the light breeze, Rin's figure eclipsing the dying sun.
"Why?" I press.
"There aren't words for it." Rin whispers, a note of something that sounds like pain saturating her voice. I start, realizing that this is easily the most serious conversation that I have ever carried with her.
How have I never noticed how expressive her eyes are? I guess I've never looked too much, always unnerved by their typical lack of focus. They're anything but now, though, emerald crystal narrowed in razor-sharp intensity.
"Ah." I reply eloquently, and then there is silence. I break eye contact, turning back to stare at the mural like it is the most interesting thing in the world.
Rin...
When I look back, she's gone, the sun slipping away under the horizon.
