The days you want to last the longest always end up vanishing away in the blink of an eye. Filling them with routine doesn't help. Becoming absorbed in anything from the menial to the seemingly pivotal made no difference. There was a hole somewhere in my person, but I could not seem to locate it even as it grew larger and larger.
"You have the look again," Gakupo told me one bleak and cloud-covered morning.
"If 'that look' is fabulous, then I agree." My voice held no amusement.
"You are starting to sound like me, which is very worrying. I hope you are not pushing myself."
"Worry all you want, old man. I got to leave early today." I stood from the mattress and began brushing my dirt-caked hair.
"I wish you would tell me what's wrong. You seem to just be slipping farther and farther away."
"Maybe I've been starting to understand what you always say about our position in this world and how hopelessly impossible it is to do anything about it."
"Don't say that. How many days until we have enough money for the flat?"
"I've lost track."
He was silent after that, and that inconceivable guilt that accompanied my melancholy crept in again. I couldn't help but stay in this half-asleep state of mind. When you get used to the idea that your life might not end like your parents' did, reality crashing in is all the more unbearable. Helping Miku felt just wrong now, but I did as she told anyway. Gathering names. Conducting trivial interviews that all began to blend together into the evident fact that there are disgusting people in this world. Not today, though. Today was different.
"Is this about the wedding?" Gakupo asked as I was heading for the gate.
"I don't know. Probably." I did not tell him I was going with Yuka to help set up for it that day. This night was the big event. Maybe I would snap out of it when this whole thing is over with.
A dead man was outside Yuka's door. He must have been homeless, crawling his way to the sweet smell of pastries that wafted from her shop and just sat there to die. Her mouth was wide open and his eyes were rolled back into his skull. Blood ran down his jaw and his clothes until it pooled on the ground. Someone would come to remove him eventually.
Yuka didn't pay the corpse much mind as she loaded up a carriage with her breads, cakes, and other delicacies. She waved me over, and I began lifting the crates and baskets with her. How she managed to make all this was a mystery to me. There was enough food to feed the entire city.
"Is your mother coming to help as well?" I asked as we hopped aboard the carriage. Lack of space prompted us to sit on the crates like a couple of vagrants hitching a ride to a new land. Truthfully, I had never ridden in a carriage before. A tiny bit of joy sparked in the darkness.
"No, she…has taken ill," Yuka replied.
That joy flickered and faded. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine. Let's just get the work done and over with."
I felt dizzy at every rock, dip, and turn in the road. The nausea distracted me for most of the way to the center of the city where I found myself facing the Kagamine residence once again. Maybe I was torturing myself, but some torture I can't stay away from.
White flowers ornamented every window, door, and lamppost on the property. The square around the building was even more crowded than usual, and our driver commented how beautiful it looked at least seven times before dropping us off at the back gate. The day would never come when I could walk through the front doors like a real person. The thought placed lead in my arms, and unloading the crates was all the more difficult.
Some strong men helped carry in the goods. I used the crate I was hauling to cover my face and avoid any unnecessary confrontations from Teto, but she was nowhere to be seen. All the other servants were too frantic with their preparations that they couldn't tell the difference between me and the queen herself.
A thin sheen of sweat had appeared on my face by the time we made it to a great hall I had never yet seen. People with all sorts of purposes hustled around the white lace and pink satin to make sure this wedding was perfect. Some loud-mouthed woman was screeching for the caterers to start setting up. Yuka and I worked efficiently and silently for a very long time.
"Did you want to come with me because of Len Kagamine?" she asked suddenly as we cut and arranged the loaves of bread.
"No, what do I have to do with Len Kagamine?" I answered.
"I asked Gakupo. He told me everything."
No words for a while. "You think I'm foolish."
"Yes, but I'm still sorry."
"Don't be. I'll be over it soon enough, as soon as this God-forsaken wedding is over. I don't even know why I felt so drawn to him. Nothing makes much sense anymore."
"I really am terribly sorry. Remember that, please."
The room around us became slightly quieter. Our hands stopped moving as we scanned the room for any source of the solemnity. My eyes landed on the entrance to the hall, where Len Kagamine stood with who would seem to be his mother, observing the space with a reserved interest, but the sunshine of his features which I had seen the night of the party was gone. I could sense Yuka tensing behind me.
"I think I should go," I whispered to her. My sight was still set on him. "This is too painful."
Before she could interject, I began walking briskly away. My heart was beating to quickly I could feel it through the blood in my veins. Len had started walking as well, uncomfortably close to my path of movement. I made sure to keep my head down and shielded by my hood as we passed. I almost relaxed before a large man bumped into me and nearly sent me face-first onto the marble.
"Oh, I'm sorry miss! You're just so small, I couldn't even see you!" his voice boomed, echoing off the walls of the room and sending the people into another silence. I felt their eyes.
Shaking my head and making forgiving hand motions, I attempted to pacify the situation without my voice being heard.
"What's your name, young lady? Are you a mute?" His words were harsh, but his tone was jubilant.
"No, I'm sorry, sir. My name is Mayu, and I really have to be going now," I whispered.
"Huh? Mayu? Speak louder, my hearing's been failing me for years!"
"GOOD DAY, SIR!" I shouted and booked it out of there. Sneaking a glance behind me, I saw Len watching with a perplexed expression, then realization. No, he couldn't have recognized my voice. We had spoken so long ago and for such a short period of time. I asked myself if I would recognize his voice if I heard it even in the most impossible of places. Yes, I believed I would.
He started running toward me. I ran faster. Out the door, through the halls. He called my name, the name I foolishly gave that old man to repeat to the world. Down stairs, more doors, into the streets, into the crowd, he called my name, but still, I ran faster.
That night the word came out that Luka Megurine had died an hour before the wedding was supposed to take place. I cried for her, but I also cried for me and this whole damn hopeless situation, and this whole damn dying city and my whole damn life.