Everyone fulfilled their role. There were complaints about the amount of nicotine free loading. There were cries about second-hand smoking and lung cancer. They were ignored. Playful banters took place, words riddled with puns and double takes.
It reminded him of a duel between enemies bordering between playful thrusts, feints and aggressive blocks. Silver swords flashing and clashing together in furious motion. Quick, darting flicks of the blade. The playful teasing conversations were like that, flicking their razor edge to undress their opponent.
“You’re going all red! ARGH! So you did do it! Tell me!”
Maybe that’s why Shinya complained about the teasing. It was stripping him. Shredding his defences with the nicks of a silver tongue. Such a wicked razorblade tongue. But he didn’t mind in the end . . .
Toshiya bit his lip. His thoughts were leading off to sex again. He plucked aimlessly, staring off at the rigged lights. Why wasn’t he doing what he usually did? He was suppose to be laughing, possibly champagne high and giggling to the point of convulsion. His nail polish was chipping.
Kyo ran by screaming and shouting.
“Come back here you little shit!”
Toshiya fell back and hit the floor.
He sat on the floor, clutching his bass vaguely. A hand was offered. He looked up and flicked his dark hair away. Kaoru was saying something, frowning as per usual. He didn’t want to touch Kaoru’s hand; he didn’t want to touch anybody. The idea of the sensory of touch scared him; he didn’t miss what he did not know.
The touch of their fingers sent a chill through his body. Thrills, like a sudden chill that plucked at the flesh and caused to muscles to weaken. Dry and innocent touch of hands and fingers were acidic. They tore away at his bones and licked at the marrow.
Toshiya took his hand back. “Thanks.”
Maybe Kaoru wasn’t always frowning. Kaoru smiled and laughed that day at the gate, didn’t he? Didn’t he chuck a dummy spit just this morning about stereotypes? He looked at Kaoru’s face. He saw Kaoru not as it was, but as he knew it to be.
Kaoru was smiling and laughing. There was screaming in the background. He blocked his ears and wondered how the technical crew put up with them.
“I’m leaving.”
Everyone watched as he zipped up his bag and left. Kaoru followed him out into the hall way. He had left the room silent and silted; Kaoru wanted answers.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m sick. I think I’ll take the rest of the day off.”
Kaoru still followed him, he could hear him. He turned sharply around and corner and started running, wanting to get further and further away. He stopped; couldn’t hear anymore footsteps. He stumbled outside and down the stair, leaning against the metal railings.
The sky above him was the purest blue.
It was open and free; he couldn’t breathe.
+
The shopping centre, twisting labyrinth or maze. Whatever you called it, it was bright, big and monstrous. It’s horribly lit, too bright and the colours were dull and boring. But there were little cracks in its structure, little irregular places that no one knew about that I enjoyed; if you died there, no one would come looking for you.
I was blank. A blank white sheet of paper waiting for the world to stain me with scratches of the ink nib. I just walked, going wherever the feet took me. The people reminded me flocks of sheep to be slaughtered, following one another. They passed me with their shiny clothes, their animal skins, their silks, their perfumes, their sweat and their empty thoughts.
I wore a black long sleeved top. My arms felt frail, like they were about to tear off. I wore everything black. I looked like I was in mourning. I half-expected someone to stop me and ask if I was going to a Western funeral. All I needed was the long stemmed red roses with the thorns.
I was being depressing and I didn’t feel like shopping. It felt vacuous like everything else. I walked through the shopping centre empty and detached; my senses were enshrined in a glass ball. I tried to think but the glass monitor I met was filled with fuzz and white noise.
Up one level, down one level, I walked. I went up the escalator and down the escalator. I did it a few more times till the glare of the security guard made me stop. I went higher. The food courts. The department stores. The various little shops. The cinemas.
I went in the lift, riding up and down but never quite getting off. I jumped up and down, feeling the power of physics acting on my flesh. Inertia and gravity became my toys rather than the rules that grounded me. An old grandma glared.
I got off at the roof. I heard it went down and got stuck between level 3 and 4 for the next hour.
The roof I stood, in the midst of a wide grey expanse. Cars everywhere, in little slots; so structured. I wanted to jump off, screaming ‘see, life is not so numbing after all’.
But then I would die, and I didn’t want the end to come just yet. It was such a lonely and desolate place, with just the moon.
I scouted it out. Little strange corners here and there, between the air conditioning block and the next level of 360 parking spaces. Grey cement and colourless wall paint. I saw some stairs and decided to go down them; I was even sick of escalators.
No one took these stairs. The cityscape at night looked haunting, with flashing neon lights and the head lights of cars. Green and purple. Water became a rippling silk blanket of ebony. I felt the crumbling cement in my hand. The end was everywhere.
I lifted my leg and threw it over the cement railing of the stairs. I didn’t know what scared or inspired me more. I was afraid of death and the consequence of nothingness it brought, but I prayed for its soothing balm across all my fears, insecurities and worries.
“What are you doing?”
A quiet voice from the darkness, at the bottom of the stairs. The light of a cigarette being inhaled. A tiny click and a light. Kaoru smiled, the flickering flame accentuating his ghoulish appearance.
“This is my haunt, and you are under a contract, Toshiya.”
I pulled my leg back and skipped down the small flight of stair. “AH! Kaoru. Are you following me, or am I following you?”
He switched off his light, “Who knows? And just what were you doing? Aren’t you sick?”
“Yes. I am sick.”
“Why aren’t you at home then?”
“Who said I was that kind of sick? I wanted to fly away.”
+
He was strolling down the street with me, as I walked with leisure, feeling my legs wobble with each step. The pace set was playful, and spontaneous.
He was mocking me. “Flying? Is this a romantic notion of yours? Are you feeling alright?”
I tried to mimic Kyo’s vomiting noises. “Me? I couldn’t be romantic to save my life. I forgot to attend half the dates I made, and stuffed up the pre-date procedure in the other half.”
“What happened to your gushing confessions over the phone?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I smiled, “I grew up? I’m in a band now? I’ve seen dead people? I’m disillusioned?”
“I say disillusionment is the best answer.”
“I’m sure it must be a wonderful experience to like someone a lot and have good reason to, but I haven’t really had that kind of experience. I’d love it try it out but maybe someday, eh?”
“Time is the key to all things. But still, just what were you doing wanting to fly?”
“I didn’t want to fly! I wanted to fly away; there’s a big difference.”
“Are we that bad?”
“No of course not! I love Dir en Grey! Just . . . anyway. My philosophy is that love is not a real word.” I covered my mouth and smirked, “Pretend I didn’t say that.”
I slapped my hand, “Bad person!”
“It’s become a convention.” He stated.
I grinned, “That’s the exact reason why I despise it. Romantic love is for romantics. I’ve done it all; the clichés sucked. Besides, I think it’s all a conspiracy by the chocolate, flower and plush toy companies.”
He laughed at that. “I’d agree if you were talking about Valentine’s Day.”
I placed my finger to my lips, “Don’t tell but I worked in a candy shop for fun and read the Consumers Bible. It said that love wasn’t real, it was a manufactured produce for mass consumption like everything else in this world.”
He tilted his head and peered at me, perhaps seeing me for the torn thing I am. The sensuous and the cynical, to be cruel to be kind. What is real? I’m falling apart at the seams. My body is unwinding and the threads are coming undone.
“You really believe that, don’t you?”
“Of course. Why? Is it so hard to believe?”
“You seem so happy and light and well . . . hyper; it’s assumed.”
“Oh, the dreaded stereotypes. It’s a recent thing, but it’s me.”
“You hate that, don’t you?”
I signed, “Yes. You know, people think you’re way too inhibited most of the time.”
“I suppose you don’t agree with that description?” he asked.
“I don’t know you, but I don’t think you are at all. The true spirit of Kaoru comes out only in concerts, probably.” I shrugged and smiled, “Who knows really? It’s a mystery.”
He mocked me, “No, it’s a secret.”
+
I didn’t feel like drinking the tea. It was warm and pleasant. I cupped in my palm and swallowed its refreshing bitter fragrance. Aromatic and soothing. The night time was always cold; my nose was frozen, and my cheeks were icy. The conversation between Kaoru and I had dragged on.
I tried to find out who he was; the little quirks that make his personality. He wanted to answer the riddles to my conflicting self; he desired to pluck from me the small print written in the dark corners.
We had fallen back to the topic of love; singularly most revered, hated and adored topic of the modern world.
It was as if the world had descended into madness, in love with the idea of falling in love than falling in love and living happily after. I blamed it on the sappy fairy tales told in the world to children, growing up with the zenith of their life being one single goal - to find their one true love.
“I don’t believe in soul mates.”
“Oh,” I peered up, chin in hand. “Explain.”
“There are billions of people on the earth! Think about it; how the hell are you suppose to find your bloody soul mate if you only meet something like 1 % of the population in your whole entire life, know intimately even less? It just isn’t correct.”
Yes, I had thought of that. I just assumed that the love gods and goddesses must have thought about that before plopping you down on the earth. It wasn’t by mistake that she married him and not him, right? There is an orderly and well organized system, I’m sure.
He took a drag on his cigarette, “I think people are brought together by the need to be with other people. It all human nature doing the talking.”
Human nature; the need to belong and the need to eradicate loneliness. Maybe that’s what the stupidity of this fanciful emotion meant all along. The need to belong and not be alone, that was the core; the rest was just window dressing - the candy, the bears, the flowers and the searing gold band.
She signed, dipping her fingers into the goldfish bowl. ‘I don’t know what she’s so upset about. He obviously treats her very well. He’s a good choice.’
‘Did you make a good choice, mother?’
The finger of her wedding ring trembled. She smiled and started ikebana practice.
Kaoru dabbled his cigarette in the ashtray and lit another. The waiter came and cleared it away. It was full. I looked at the time on my pocket watch; it was the next day. We had talked for hours; I was afraid that I would have nothing to say.
I yawned. I was feeling sleepy but I wanted to stay awake.
Kaoru frowned, “Hey, where did you get that?”
I looked up, “Get what?”
“The pocket watch.”
“It’s mine.” I smiled fondly, “A friend gave it to me.”
He reached for it, “May I?”
I laughed, “Okay, I’ll confess before hand; so a friend didn’t give it to me, I just took it.”
I handed it to him and watched his expression. His face usually always grim – the grim reaper, that’s who he reminded me of. Death and the end. He had a look of concentration. It was touching to see his focus as he turned over the gadget in his dry palms so gently.
He was quiet, “You were on holiday when you got this, weren’t you?”
I smiled, “Reading minds now are you? Enlighten me! Just how did you know? Have you been talking about me behind my back? Um, wonder who I’ve told . . .”
Kaoru frowned, “No, it’s mine.”
‘What is it?’ she asked.
I laughed; because this was my part; it was my line; the vowels and consonants of my tongue; the shape of my mouth even if I didn’t like my teeth. ‘Look what I found.’ I lied but what she doesn’t know cannot hurt her.
My fingers reach to catch a beauty, something small and silvery. This strange cyclical disk in the grasp of my bony adolescent fingers, with a beautiful, twisted metallic chain. A pocket watch. Keeper of time and ruler of the motions of living that strangled all men and women in their sleep.
It was the only thing I had to remember by. This instrument of time was also the bondage under which I laid, to be flayed by it, uplifted by it, lightened and crushed by it’s dainty strokes.
‘It’s pretty, don’t you think?’
My mother frowned.
I was covered in mud and rain.
“Oh.” I had nothing to say.
He looked at my eyes for the first time, and searched them out for the specks.
“Hello . . . I’ve missed you.”
“. . .”
I fell backwards.
Arna.