Shelf #006

Later during that very same day, Kuu was back home from the bookshop. Inside the living room at his house, Kuu headed upstairs and paused, wide-eyed in surprise. Spike came down the steps, amazingly wearing full body, blue scuba diving gear and black leather pants with large goggles on his head.

"Ah– Hey."

Kuu stared speechless for a second. Thankfully he found his voice.

"Hi. . ."

Kuu couldn't utter a single word on that. This person was just over the board daring to go and wear something beyond the norm. He quickly went up the stairs to his bedroom. After a few minutes of changing his shirt to a fitted white camisole–– which deliciously carved his chiseled chest and showed his well-toned arms–– Kuu went down the stairs and joined Spike in fixing a cup of tea in the kitchen.

"Just incidentally–– why are you wearing that, Spike?" Kuu asked, still eyeing his friend's attire.

Spike took a big spoonful of cereal. Then, "Ahm–– Just a combination of factors really. No clean clothes. . ."

Kuu took a sip of tea. He then took out a bread from a pack across him on the table. "There never will be, you know. Well, unless you actually clean your clothes."

"Mmm. . . yeah–right. Vicious circle. And then I was like rooting around in your things, and found this, and I thought–– cool. . Kinda spacey you know."

Then after that cup of tea the two went upstairs on the rooftop terrace, just passing the day. Kuu was sitting comfortably on a beach chair under a large white parasol, reading 'The Bookseller'. He still looked crushingly handsome with the spectacles on. His skin temptingly fair against the heat of the sun, thanks to this camisole which also revealed his bare, wondrous biceps. The terrace here was small, and the plants weren't great– as this place was really beautiful and relaxing before, but his ex-fiancé took almost everything in their house, including all the pretty flowers and left him with this– a kind of ugly-looking, almost barren flat. But still, this terrace overlooked the great historical Kyoto in a rather wonderful way. And the weather today was really nice, with gentle breeze sweeping across the terrace, and the sun on the horizon warm. Familiar people buzzed around Portobello road below.

Spike was leaning on the banister at the far end of the terrace, still in the blue scuba gear, goggles on and checking the surroundings with it.

"But you know. . . There's something wrong with this goggles though," he said.

"No, they were prescription. So I could see all the fishes properly," Kuu said, turning over the page he had just read.

"Groovy."

Spike got up and went down the side stairs.

"You know Kuu, you should do more of this stuff."

"So, any messages?" Kuu asked, squinting through the brightness behind his spectacles. Spike took a cigarette and lighted it. He smoked with it for a while before he finally answered.

"Yeah I wrote a couple down," he replied. He leaned on a brown wooden beach chair and stretched his feet on it.

"Two? That's it?"

"You want me to write down all your messages?"

Kuu closed his eyes in exasperation. Sometime today perhaps, there might be a call from her. She might be looking for him today. He placed a bookmark on the page and closed his book.

"Alright, who were the ones you didn't write down from?" Kuu asked, still hopeful. Spike smoked a bit.

"Ahm let's see–– ahm. . . No. Gone completely," he said. "Oh no, wait. There was –– one from your mum: she said don't forget lunch and her leg's hurting again."

"Right. No one else?"

His heart was ready for a crush. Surely she would be thinking about calling him somehow. . .

"Absolutely not."

Kuu nodded silently. A sharp fang pierced his heart. He opened the book again, and tried to occupy his mind back to the book's scenario where he left off. But all that appeared very vivid was her face. Her smile. So she didn't call, huh . . . Yeah, that was expected. . . So many reasons because she was in fact, the biggest, most famous star in the world and, a supermodel on top of that. No wonder she hadn't thought about him. . A person in such an industry like that have so much time on their hands to occupy themselves with, and keep themselves busy, more than anyone else.

If only she had known. . He had been thinking a lot about her all this time. . . At least once, she would call. . .

Spike read his expression, and he knew there was something. He leaned back and relaxed.

"Though if we're going for this obsessive writing-down-all-messages thing–– some American girl called Julienna called a few days ago."

Kuu froze–– had he heard it right? He then looked at Spike.

"What did she say?"

'Gotcha! So it was this girl.' thought Spike. He smiled a bit and smoked again.

"Well, it was genuinely bizarre. . . . She said, hi–– it's Julienna–– and then, she said, call me at the Westin Fuwa –– and then gave herself a completely different, weird name."

"Which was?"

"Absolutely no idea," Spike answered and smoked again. "Remembering one name's bad enough. . . ."

Defeated, Kuu went back to his book and read again. If only Spike could remember the name, he would definitely go straight to his phone and call her––

A sudden realization hit Kuu. Yeah, right. . . Why didn't he thought about that earlier? He had to call that hotel and talk to her. At least just for a while, for a few minutes or even two would be enough. Just to hear her voice was enough. . .

"Spike. Did she left the number of that hotel?" Kuu asked, his heart beating in anticipation.

Spike thought about it for a moment. Squinting through his eyes, as the rays of the sun hit him, he spoke.

"Yeah. . ." Spike answered, nodding at him. "Yeah–– I think she did."

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