"-What's somebody like you doing in a place like this? Say, did you come alone, or did you bring all your friends? Say, what's your name? Whatcha' drinking? I think I know what you're thinking. Baby, what's your sign? Tell me yours, I'll tell you mine. Say, what's someone like you doing in a place like this?"
-Timbaland Ft. Katy Perry: If We Ever Meet Again
I watched as the strange girl with brown eyes stumbled away in a hurry after knocking her head on the lamp post behind her. A clumsy and rash move, I noted in my head as she scurried off, vanishing from sight. I frowned to myself, wondering what that was all about. I decided to just shrug it off as another someone being a complete busybody. Insignificant. I pushed it out of my head dismissively, without a second thought.
After I felt like I was ready to move out of the shop, I got out and walked all the way back home, my brain flooded with thoughts about the current status of the Kira case. A few days before, I had contacted L virtually and we had a heated discussion about the case and what plans were to be made. In the end, it was decided that I would not take action unless it had truly gotten out of hand. While backup would've been helpful, L didn't want to involve anymore people in this than he already did, for the fear of risking more lives. So I was stuck in the sidelines, monitoring the case from afar for the time being and offering my opinion in the matter from time to time. It was an awful bore.
When I reached back home, I went straight for my bedroom and settled myself in an empty space in the middle of a large collection of toys that took up most of the room's floor. It was messy, but the closest thing to 'comfortable' ever since I left Wammy's. I was still busy adapting to my new 'home', but I didn't seem to be doing so well. The house was just too big and too empty, void of the familiar pattering footsteps of children running around recklessly in the hallways, and the chatter and laughter I had grown so used to hearing ringing in my ears after living there for so many years. It was a completely different environment.
There were about a little over a dozen members of my staff, every one of them adults ranging from their twenties to early forties, but all they did was take care of the cleaning, cooking and housekeeping. The only time I ever called for them was to either ask them a question or request for them to do something for me.
I sighed softly as I watched the colourful toy train chugged along the tracks I set up before, the battery-operated engine running and rumbling noisily in an attempt to mimic a real one.
To tell you the truth, I was a bit annoyed with L's decision and thought very well that I could handle the case as sturdily as he could. It disturbed me to think that he doesn't think that I was ready, even after years and years of training and studying. Still, L was my mentor and despite what I thought or how I felt about it, he undoubtedly had the final say. Bitter or sour emotions won't change the facts.
"Patience is a virtue, Near. I expect that you are aware of that." I remembered his exact words, his voice distorted by the voice-scrambler, but was without a mistake, firm. L knew what he was doing, and I was in no position to challenge that.
But what was I suppose to do now? Sit here and rot amongst my toys? It was frustrating; I was summoned over for duty, yet, it was like I wasn't even needed.
With a resentful grunt, I flicked the passing train on my right and it fell over onto its side, the wheels still turning and rolling as the engine ran. With a small frown, I helped it up again and had it running along the tracks once more, a finger in my hair as I followed it with my eyes.
...Something exciting better happen soon, or there will be a rather high chance of me silently going insane on the inside from this agonizing boredom.
The next morning came by, and still no news from L since our last meeting. For some unknown, illogical reason, I found myself wandering the streets once again, following the exact same route I took yesterday afternoon. It was strange because I never used to have these unusual urges to go for walks. I didn't even like walking.
This goes to show that sitting around doing nothing- not even having something productive to think about- has taken its toll on me. It's even causing me to do things that I don't normally do.
Soon, I found myself at the last place I was the day before, at the coffee shop on a street called 5th Avenue. I went inside and sat down at the same table and looked around uninterestedly. The place wasn't any more crowded than before, and didn't look like much of a popular destination for lunch, actually. I wondered why that was so, it was a pleasant enough place, granted a little small, maybe just enough for a full-house of fifteen to twenty people.
I sat in my chair and played with my hair, contemplating if I should order something, since it would be rude just to take refuge here without giving anything in return.
I picked up the menu on the round table in front of me and flipped it open, scanning the list for something I would actually drink. I was absorbed in thought when I suddenly heard a noise in front of me; a sound like somebody was coughing or clearing their throat.
When I lowered the menu to see who it was, I went slightly wide-eyed with shock, very nearly startling and losing my stoic expression when my own eyes meet another familiar pair of eyes. Brown.
I couldn't help but stare wordlessly back at those eyes, menu drooping slightly from my grasp as she blinked back, looking from what I quickly identified as hopeful, nervous and unsure at one go.
"Erm, Hello," the strange girl from yesterday squeaked and I just kept staring at her like she was some sort of alien life-form. "How do you do?"
When I didn't make a sound or movement, except for the bare quirk of my right brow underneath my bangs, she fidgeted slightly and my mind reeled. Who is she? I am certain that this was the girl from yesterday, shooting me weird looks from outside the window. But for why? And what is the reason of her sudden approach? Could she possibly have a hidden motive of some sort? Did I do something to offend her? No. That is highly unlikely. I have not even spoken a word to her yet, nor do I plan to anytime soon, and my physical actions so far are completely innocent and not offensive at all. So... what does she want from me?
My brain automatically flashed question after question, but I found myself unable to answer any of them. However, I could conclude that my stare was making her feel uncomfortable and hers was having the same effect on me as well, so I did the honors of looking down and shifting my attention back to the menu. Just ignore her, she'll go away, I told myself.
Much to my disbelief- and growing agitation- not only did she not go away, she took my silence as a personal invitation to pull out a chair and sit at my table, across from me.
"...Yeah, so... Hi," she began reluctantly, adding more awkwardness to the already uncomfortable and tense situation. "Are you from around here? I mean, like, were you born here or something?"
What on earth was she blabbering on about? What does it matter if I was born here or not? I stayed quiet, half listening unwillingly to this odd person, half questioning to myself when she was going to get up and leave me be.
She kept at it, playing with her thumbs as her eyes rolled from side to side in this rather annoying, overwrought manner, "...I'm actually new here. I kind of just moved here about a month and a half ago, you know? So I don't really know this place that well... only this part of town, I guess. Any further up or down and I'd probably get myself lost," she laughed halfheartedly.
So why don't you do just exactly that, then? I found myself resisting the urge to twitch, her miserable attempt at engaging small talk or 'harmless chit-chat' with me gnawing at my nerves.
"I'm actually from Singapore. Have you heard of it? It's like this little island in South-East Asia. Kinda far, eh? It's a nice place, but I just think that it was too... stressful for me, so I moved here on my own... and I think I kind of like it here a lot!"
I am still not saying a single word. She was practically talking to herself. Can she not see what a fool she's making of herself? Does she not notice my lack of response? Is she not able to see the message that I do not desire company?
"Usually, I'd be at my part-time job right now around this time. But I just decided to take a break, come down here and have some coffee and just, chill, you know?'
"So I take it that you come here often?"
"Say, why do you have white hair, huh? I've been wondering that ever since I saw you yesterday. Oh, sorry that I was kind of rudely staring... it's just that I never saw anyone with white hair before. Well, someone so young that is."
"Speaking of which, how old are you?"
"And do you like coffee? I don't."
"...Oh. Wait. I just told you I came down for some coffee... err, never mind! Forget what I just said!"
The words and questions just kept on coming and coming, flooding my ears like a dam that had been destroyed. My patience and tolerance were wearing thinner and thinner by the second, even as I tried my best to keep an uncaring attitude. There was just something about her that demanded my attention. Maybe it was the sound of her voice, or the way she was talking in that foreign accent of hers, or the way she kept moving around in her seat and throwing short glances at me, never keeping her gaze on me for long.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of non-stop self-conversing, when it was in fact only seven minutes and thirteen seconds in reality, she seemed to notice that something was amiss and stopped talking.
I was relieved. At last... silence.
I thought that, at first, she got the message in the end, after all, even if she did take quite a bit of time. That, however, was not the case.
Not. At. All.
"...Say," She stared at me the way an idiot would have stared, utterly transfixed at the sight of a hot flame burning on a candle and reached out to touch it, oblivious of the consequences. "Are you mute?"
The unbelievable question triggered the last straw. I slammed down the menu with more force than intended, and she jumped and watched me with widened eyes as I pushed out from my seat and got up, deciding that I had more than enough of this nonsense.
How could anyone with even an ounce of brain cells possibly be so dense?
I shuffled away from the table and headed towards the door, but she followed me, much to my dismay, asking worriedly what was wrong.
What was wrong? What's wrong is that I cannot comprehend the stupidity of the world outside of Wammy's. In fact, I was put off by it. Revolted. Turned off. Offended. Disgusted. Shocked into complete silence, if you will, at the sheer brainlessness of this new community and its annoying little teenage girls. At least the girls back at Wammy's knew when they were not wanted.
"H-Hey! Wait up! Where are you going? Did I say something wrong?" my unwanted company managed to catch up with me, despite my brisk shuffling. She came and joined me by my side with a concerned expression, clueless and dumbfounded. I paced the sidewalk quicker.
Dear God, this girl was like a virus. Could she not leave me alone so we can part and forever go our separate ways, hopefully to never cross paths again? When I said that I wanted something interesting to happen, I did not by all means meant sticking me into a situation like this.
"Um, I didn't mean to offend you!" Too late. "A-and, I'm not sure if it was because I called you mute or if it was something I said earlier on or not... but I'm sorry! M-maybe I'm just trying too hard...?" I rather you not try at all, thank you.
All of a sudden, she halted in her steps, and I took the time to glance over my shoulder, stopping momentarily as well, for Heaven-knows-what reason. I should've just kept on walking forward and left her there.
"Oh, shoot! It's that late, already..?" She mumbled in realization after taking a look at her wrist watch. "I gotta get back to work or Rod will blow a fuse!"
It seemed as though someone had listened to the plea for help inside of my head and stopped the torture. She looked regretfully up at me and offered me an apologetic smile, as if I wanted her to stay in the first place.
"I have to run now, gotta get back to my job and all," she tittered and I blinked blankly, my face never showing any emotion. I didn't really care. Almost as sudden as she appeared, she spun on her heel and started sprinting the other direction, waving and yelling out to me, "I'll see you around, yeah? It was nice meeting you, Angel!"
Angel? I questioned mentally. Was that suppose to be some kind of insult or jab at me because of my whiteness? Mello, Matt and a couple of other kids back at the orphanage used to call me names like 'sheep', 'cottonball', 'snow white' or even 'ghost boy', but never have I've once been called an 'angel'.
I stood there and watched her disappear for the second time since I first laid my eyes on her and couldn't help but find her to be most abnormal. Nobody ever stuck to me so frighteningly close before, much less chase me down a street. Everything about that girl was weird and unpleasant. I have met many irksome people in the past, but none have managed to get me to react like that before.
It was extremely rare that I came that close to losing my cool, especially with someone I hardly even knew. It almost never happened. I had a reputation for keeping calm even in the most impossible situations, so this confused me a little. She must've been a special kind of annoying in the worst way possible. So clingy, block-headed and chatty and just... a gigantic bother in conclusion. Trouble at its extreme. I despised people like that with all my heart.
Despite all of that, I still couldn't get her last sentence out of my head, even as I made my way home and straight back to my room to amuse myself with my toys. It displeased me that I was probably thinking too much into it, but for some reason, it was on my mind for the longest time.
"It was nice meeting you, Angel!"... Why 'Angel'? Perhaps she was just choosing a random nickname for me since I never told her my name, so she didn't know what she should call me by. Still, if that really was the case, why didn't she call me any of those other names like the others did?
...and would it be strange to say that I didn't mind as much as I should?