"The Dream"

It was a dark cold evening. There was something sinister in the air-- it was uncomfortably warm. I saw a girl walking barefooted. She had bruises and scratches. Her long black hair was swinging as she moved. She was wearing a white dress, blood stains glistening like fire raging in snow. She was panting, breathlessly and helplessly running away from something. Ignoring the darkness embracing her, she kept walking as fast as she possibly could with no direction in mind. She couldn't think. She couldn't speak. She couldn't cry. All she knew was run away. She must not stay. 

She looks to be around 5 or 7 years old, I thought.

 

She cocked her head to her left and saw a metal rail.

 

Who is this girl? What is she doing in this place at this time? Why is she covered in blood?

 

She climbed the rail to her feet, grabbing the metal just above her and looked down to somewhat like a thousand-of-feet. She was standing on the bar of a bridge, and seemed like she was trying to jump. She gritted her teeth and the blood from somewhere on her head dripped. As she closed her eyes, the gory scenes of incineration came back to her. The eerily poignant prospect was gruesome and I could see them too.

 

This again... Why do I keep seeing this?  Am I dreaming again? 

 

“Father…” she muttered. Her skin began to crawl, and tried to turn in an instant. Maybe the coward in her finally surfaced, but she slipped throwing herself into the depths of hell.

Chapter 1: "What I Know"

Who am I? What am I? What’s my purpose? 

These questions echoed in my thoughts, swirling back and forth since I heard it in Philosophy class. Someone I hold dear told me about it before. For a friendless teenager, it was something that reminded me how it felt like to be alone.

Knocks on the door wrinkled my brows early in the morning.  Sensing the cock-crow light seeping through the curtains; I could tell I will be late for class. The sounds of my brother as he tried to wake me up every morning, exasperated me. The thud of his footsteps, calling out my name and the grumbles he would make when he’d be annoyed too.

“You’ll be late for class, Sammy.” Akira said in his usual calm tone, with his back on door and arms crossed to his brawny chest.

I could feel the coldness of the room beyond the bed. Half-awake, a long sigh finally got out of my small lips when he said, “Dad’s waiting, idiot!” So I got up blinking myself awake and mumbled something I couldn’t remember that even Akira failed to hear, and took a bath as fast as I could, ignoring the cold water.

He was wearing a shirt today. Good for him. Akira would usually walk around the house shirtless, showing his chiseled chest, broad shoulders, and awesome abs. It would always embarrass me, really, because most of the time we were alone in the house. Not because I once read a magazine talking about oedipal love. Or is it because of that? Maybe it bothered me after all. That damn magazine! But were not even related by blood, so…  What the hell am I thinking? He’s still my brother!

If only dad was not waiting, I would just ignore him and go back to the dream world. Talking about the dream I had, it was always the same thing… about that kid covered in blood and fell on a bridge. And every time I would try to remember the kid’s face, my head would hurt; a sharp pain breaking my head into half. Seemed like the kid had no face (or maybe not). I could not remember.  I started having these dreams ever since my head got hit by some bullies in school. That was when I was trying to get my bag on the pool and someone from behind nudged me on the head and fell on the school pool. I told Akito, my adopted father, that I just slipped and fell, keeping the bullying a secret from them. I did not want to worry them. I owed them. A lot.

 

I always woke up late. I could feel Akira was thinking that waking me up every day was a drag, since he was the kind of person who would always complain. But Akito was the one who asked him about it, which maybe was the reason why he was not protesting at all. Akira looked up to Akito very much. He had always been admiring his father.

I would always envy them actually. After all, I was an orphan. My name is Sam. It was a name given to me by a priest in the orphanage where I used to live. Father Emmanuel thought the name fitted me. It meant ‘the God has heard’ or ‘morning’ and ‘bright’. People with the name Sam have had deep inner desire to use their abilities in leadership and personal independence. They would rather focus on large, important issues, and delegate the details. However, it was the complete opposite of me. I had always been a gloomy person. I preferred being alone on a corner. Never charming nor charismatic, which was not an ideal for a leader, but I had always wanted independence. Like Akira, I had constantly looked up to Akito. Both of them, actually.

“There you go, Sammy” Akito said, his voice was cheerful as ever, as we arrive in front of the school gate and he handed a packed lunched. Whenever I looked at him, I could easily recognize the resemblance of him and Akira that I forgot he was already forty seven. They were like twins. Dark hair and brown eyes, tall and lean, and even their monotone voices (which worry them they would send the opposite sex to sleep as soon as they open their mouths) were alike.

“Thanks Akito.” I said and got out of the car.

“Hey! How many times do I have to repeat myself that’s ‘dad’ for you.”  He said, while a lavish sedan honked angrily. “By the way, I won’t be home tonight. Just eat with your brother and do your homeworks.” He pursed his lips and held his breath. “I’m sorry about this…I know your brother is an idiot for making fun of you all the time. You know he’s a toddler trapped in a Johnny Bravo body.” He inhaled and bit his lips, forming creases on his cheeks. “Well, bye sweety!”

Akito and Akira adopted me five years ago from Harrison-Laurent Orphanage somewhere in Region 56. Ah, the region 56, the region surrounded by tall trees as if it was shading the whole place. It was a desolated district that the houses were miles apart or even more. You would almost rarely see people there. The orphanage itself was joyless. The orphans just grew up without feeling the love of a new family. I was lucky. I was only eleven then, sleeping under a tree when Akito found me. He had a very thick black beard and a ponytail, reaching for my hands and asked my name. Puzzled, Akito could easily tell from my big round teal eyes. Akira was there too, staring at us. He was very quiet, just observing his father as I grabbed his hand.

From spending years on the orphanage, I never had the courage to ask the people there about how they found me. I was scared, even ‘til now.  Having no memories from my past, I was always afraid of what I might find out. I didn’t even know how many years I had stayed there. Or what my real age was. am I really sixteen? Just like how the other orphans felt: the past was only a hopeless memory that should be forgotten. It could never move someone forward. A curse. 

But what am I scared for and why? Although I knew the answers myself, I tend to brush them off. I didn’t want to think about it.

Being in the Mizuki family was a blessing. A hope. A beginning. Akito and Akira were very kind and generous. They treated me like real family. Akira’s mother and sister died in a painful ordeal two years before they adopted me. Although they did not mention about it, it was something that I learnt eventually. Uncle Natsume said they died in a fire. They were raped and were stabbed multiple times. ‘It was a brutal scene’ like he described. The suspect was captured right after, and was found out to be a member of mafia. Due to that nightmare, Akito left the police force and later became a private detective. While, Akira now became a member of the force himself, elite just like his father once was. He was youngest there-- only twenty one.

Thinking about what my real purpose was, may be this was it… to fill in what were lost. To stand-in what the Mizuki’s lost. Or whatever it was, I didn’t really matter. Their pain was my beginning. Their lost was my gain. It was a selfish thought, but an obvious fact.

“What are you spacing out for, Ms. Mizuki?” Mr. Smith said and the whole class laughed with him.

I heard the class whispered names for me too. Idiot, nerd, loser. I was a laughing stock in school anyway. I thought it really was a mistake for me to be in here-- in Ethelstan International School, one of the elite schools known in 214 Regions in the world. I got in because Akito wanted me here, not because of my grades. I belong to Class D, which was a very humiliating part for me.

I am a first year high school student. The first time I came here, I knew that it would be something like this: A commoner among the rich kids, of course what would you expect? Discrimination. There were others being bullied too in this school—just another plain citizens like me or those dead kid versions of Richie Rich—treated like dirt, a nuisance and plague. Although fortunately for scholars on their uppers, they were considered gifts and were respected by others.

Never did I experience this kind of treatment back in the orphanage. I was precious. We were all precious gems there. After all, we were all the same.

Yeah, laugh all you want, I thought, pulling my newly dyed dark auburn hair behind my ear.

They think I’m a freak. They said I always give off this strange somber aura that they didn’t like to come near me. They said I was depressing to look; always sulking, thick hair and full bangs, pale skin, large and thick eyeglasses. An outcast, not a nerd.

My life in school sucked. Every time I would go here, I would always look at my watch; hoping time would run faster so I could go home. Always looking forward to see the people who were looking forward to see me, waiting for me, and worrying for me.

But with the student council’s president… I thought I could stay a little longer. With him around, life in school just changes to pink-colored rose from gray and black.  

 

Chapter 2: "The Mystery"

 

It hurts, I thought. I had always hated this. Stopping my tears from falling only hurt my throat. It was annoying.

“I’m not in a fucking mood right now and you’re the first person I see. Heh, aren’t you lucky?” The muscle guy in his white long sleeves snipped, grabbing my hair and pinning my face to the wall. He was trying to choke me with his other hand, slapping and then smothering me again.

I can’t breathe.

“Why don’t you just push her on the stairs or something?” the lanky girl suggested, chewing gum like a horse while tapping her pastel-polished index on her phone. “That freshman should know her lessons. In the easiest way possible.” She crossed her legs as she sat on the cold table and tugged her tight dark gray sweater to cover her bloating belly. Just by looking at these made me shiver in this dry chilly weather.

“That would be a good idea!” the guy pinning me said. He pulled me by the hair, almost dropping my eyeglass. I grabbed his hand struggling to escape but he pushed my head down still clutching my hair. As we hauled towards the stairs, the other girl with finally-has-the-tan-blazer-on and folded-to-look-short black pleated skirt tittered as she kicked me to my back and to the leg, making me a cripple as I gnaw in pain. I didn’t realize she was wearing sneakers instead of her don slippers. My face was getting numb thanks to this big guy. My glasses seemed fine though; it was not broken unlike before. I needed to think about another excuse if I got myself another bruise. Cutting my hair would be a good idea too.

“Make her beg.” the other guy snorting a line pleased. He rubbed his nose and sniffing like he had a cold as he walked towards us then he bluffed fondly while yanking his gold striped tie, “Okay…say you won’t attend this school again, because we don’t want to see your face--again. It’s bugging us and that you don’t belong here.” He’s sweet tone was the most annoying one. “Or this guy will definitely push you. Or me, if you want.”

Muscle guy exploded into laughter. “You sounded like a bitch.”

“You’re too loud, someone might hear--” the other short girl was interrupted. I was looking at her, and I could tell someone came. Her eyes widened, her lips somewhat parted. She was stupefied.

Charles Ethelstan.   

“Who hears who?” Charles asked as he ascended the stairs. He had a polite expression on his face. A hand inside the pocket of skinny black trousers. Why don’t all second years look this good---and neat? He was like Justin Timberlake in a suit and tie (well he even wrote a song about it), except that Charles was in uniform. The gang bowed their heads ever so slightly and finally left me alone.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded. It is him! The grandson of the founder of this school. I just could not look at him. Not with a messy hair and slapped-red cheeks. He put both his hands to his back like royalty and tilted his head. “It’s you again.” A tiny warm smile radiated from him and suddenly all I saw was his delicately shaped lips. “I see that some people just can’t stop chivvying a beauty like you.”

Oh God, help me! I nervously fixed my hair and my specs. He doesn’t mean that, does he? I just couldn’t stop my insides from squealing. I can die now. He brushed my hair softly to help me out but I instinctively waved it off. Tsk.

He pursed his lips and said, “I’m sorry…“ I shook my head lightly. Abruptly, people in their classrooms screamed with hurray. He chuckled and said, “The teachers will be having their meeting in a bit. That’s why everybody’s having the time of their lives, with ten hours of almost every day sitting in class; I don’t think I’ll argue with that.” We both let off a soft chortle. He offered me a pensive smile, “I thought you’ll ignore me again this time. You know, you’re really interesting.”

My cheeks burned. Looking directly at his electric azure blue eyes melted me. Tidy brows. Thick and long lashes. Sexy pointed nose. Pale-blonde hair. Tall, lean-built and lithe. I heard girls in school penned him ‘Prince’. Very attractive, always drawing the attention of the people around him. I could understand why every female student described him in such a detailed-manner. He really was perfect. And I knew I was one of those girls who had helplessly fallen for him.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I mean those guys---” he sighed, “Should we go to the infirmary?”

The first time I saw him, I could say, I instantly fell for him. Just looking at him from afar was enough for me since then. It had been months since he first talked to me. He was the one who welcomed me in this school. Of course he would be the one; he’s the Student Council President after all. He showed me around, and talked to me whenever he saw me eating alone during lunch breaks. That triggered the female students to dislike me. That was the reason why I started ignoring him, but he kept approaching me.  

“Charles, why you little…!” Chelsea Ryan, the vice president of student council, shrieked. Charles looked at her in discomfort. “The meeting, dammit! You’re not planning to run again, are you?”

“Okay, okay.” Charles replied, trying to calm her.

“I’m really gonna tie you if you run away again!” she reminded. Charles sighed.

“I’m not a maso---”

“Sheesh! Just go already, you goof!” Chloe Nicholas said. Not sure if she was in the council but, I knew she was known in school. Charles waved farewell. “Idiot.” She mumbled and faced me. “So, you’re that girl.” She grinned. “What happened this time?”

“Nothing really.” I replied, removing my eyeglass and putting the ice pack the nurse gave me on my swollen cheek.

She scanned me from head to foot. “Must be the eyes…” She whispered, nodding .

“Huh?”

“That’s what ‘he’ said.” She corrected, leaning on the table and playing with her long wavy white blonde hair. I wished I had hair like that too, but Akito dyed mine auburn instead. I didn’t even know why he kept dying my hair. Maybe because he was dying his grey hair too and it would be civil to share? I loved my coal hair.

“What do you mean?”

“Stick with us. I'm sure Charles would love that.” She said, ignoring what I said. “I’m a first year too, you know? Just like you.”

“I-I know.” I stuttered.

“Then I guess you already know my name.” She stretched a hand, “Just call me Chloe. Although they used to call me ‘Ichigo’… since I love strawberries. Either name’s fine.”

I shook her hand and she smiled. Then I remembered, it was her that my classmates had been talking about. The childhood friend of Charles. Ichigo. Like they said, she really is pretty. Thick long eyelashes. Sexy lips and a really deep tubercle. Tall and thin, but not so thin, and curvy. She was like the girl version of Charles’ perfection! She looked like a mannequin because of her paper-white complexion. Cerulean-colored eyes. She looked more like a doll.

I frequently visit Uncle Natsume and Akira’s Grandparents back in Lebi in Region 39, the land of farming, during summers when many tourists from different regions would visit. I remembered, Uncle would usually whistle whenever he saw beautiful women. Although, grandma would argue with him, telling him that was the reason why no one wanted to marry him. He used to tell me that real beauty was not from ‘within’ nowadays, but on the ‘outside’. He always said that you could call someone pretty or handsome by looking at the cupid’s bow of the person. The deeper, the better.  I didn’t understand why having a prominent, sharply raised tubercle on top lip would make a plain person look really awesome. But I guessed seeing these people made me agree with uncle this time. Except that they were not plain to begin with.

The bell ringed and the school speakers beeped, announcing that classes would resume tomorrow. “Well then, see you tomorrow.” She said and left the infirmary.

“You can go home now too”, the nurse said. 

So I did what nurse just said. I looked in the mirror, and saw my cheeks still swelling. There was a little bruise beside my left eye too. I wondered if Akira would believe me if I just tell him I bumped into something while looking for my glasses. However, Akira was not stupid. He would just look at me with his usual blank face, acting like he believed me.

I walked on the way home like I always did. Playful cool breeze danced through the air yet the trees were fiery and ground carpeted with scarlet and gold. They were beautiful. With every stride I felt the sting. My spirit was pounding with every rustle and plummet from the foliage fold. The dazzling sight was rubies in my eyes yet my heart was singing a poignant and painful song. Autumn was my favorite.

“I’m home.”

“You’re early today.” Akira astounded. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Anything’s fine… Dad will not be home tonight.”

“I know. He told me he’ll be back in a couple of days”

“In a couple of days?! He didn’t tell me that.”

“He asked me to tell you. He called a little while ago.”

“I see.” I said and went upstairs.

 “Go wash yourself! You look like a raccoon!” He yelled.

I let myself free and raw in the dark. I switched the light to the bathroom and immediately filled my cupped hands with water, I lowered my face into the cold of it. Damn, it’s really cold. Locked the door, removed my eyeglass, I dipped myself into the tub very slowly.  A little groan came out of my mouth. Leaning my back on the tub, forgot I was kicked and gasped in pain, “Ouch!”

I was wondering if the bruise was big or something. I grabbed the sides of the tub pushing myself to stand up so that I could see for myself in the mirror. Accidentally, I glanced towards the door before I could really stand up. It was then, just then when my skin began to move. It was actually a frosted glass door, so you could see a little outside fuzzily. I was sure, I saw something moved there. I was stuck, staring at the door, my hands still on the sides, my back still curved.

“Aki?” I called.

I finally managed to stand up, avoiding myself to look at the door. Stepping out the tub, one foot at a time: by the moment I could step my other foot, there it was again. I instinctively looked for my eyeglass since I couldn’t really see so clearly, not losing my sight at the door, I moved my hands back and forth. Where’s my eyeglass?! My heart was beating so fast that I was starting to panic. I was shaking. I touched something and looked at it. It was my glass. Before I could wear it, my eyes widened by the sight of something unexplainable. Blood. The water in the tub was red. All red, even the water running from the faucet. Before I could scream in shock Akira knocked on the door.

“Hey, there’s a phone call for you.”

I couldn’t speak. Unsure of what happened, no words came out of my mouth. I was dumbfounded. Dripping, I pulled a towel from the rack. I could hear myself breathing wildly. Shaking as I wore my eyeglass, I scanned the tub. There was nothing. 

“Hey…”

“Y-yeah” I said still catching my breath. I tried calming myself and took a very deep breath. “Who was it?”

“Someone from school, I guess. She didn’t hang up, said she’ll wait. She did not say her name, though.”

Chapter 3: "Decisions and Beginnings"

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

The other line was dead when I picked up the phone. I could still hear the busy tone playing around my ear. Akira mentioned ‘she’. It was the only thing I know.  It was the first time someone (not a relative) called me.

Akira knocked and peered through the door as I fix my hair. “You’re up early.” he teased. “I thought I’m gonna wake you up with this--” He lifted up a glass iced cold water and drank it.

“What the hell? Seriously?!” I gasped and he nodded, chortling. Truth was, I couldn’t sleep thinking about the weird ‘thing’ I saw last night. But I decided not to tell him that. “I want to cut my hair.”

“Why? I like-- I mean, that length suits you. You know, not too long and not too short.” He said tilting his head, pupils contracted. I guess he was trying to take a good look—to make sure he was right? Thanks, brother. But I was not convinced.  He was nodding. “Why?”

“Just…for a change.” I said. He shook his head lightly no. “That’s better. Don’t cut your hair or I’ll cut your nose off.”

 

It was a little early when I came to school. I heard the clattering from the school speaker, it seemed like there was an announcement. “…The classes will stop after the first period.” That was the only thing I was able to hear.

Sir Philippe , our history teacher, started his lecture with a joke as usual. No one even bothered to laugh or simper, although I always found his caprice funny, I could only laugh to myself. I was having this feeling that there were sharp stare and glances to me coming from everywhere. It occurred to me-- Charles talked to me yesterday and they didn’t like that. I kept my head down, trying my best not to look at them. Ignore them, I told myself.

“Okay class, listen now… We all know that there are a total of 214 regions in the world. A country should have a maximum of twelve regions and a minimum of ten. Each region represents any of the five sectors of industry. Meaning the regions in a country are uhhm…the source… of… the prosperity of the country? Something like that. The number given to each region, in each country is actually not in order. For example, the region we are in now is Region 209. Region 210 is not in this country, but on the other.” He discussed waving his hands like a conductor in an orchestra. “Do I have to explain this?” Nobody answered. “No.---“

Someone threw a piece of paper to me. I looked around, but it appeared everybody was listening enthusiastically to the lecture.

Sir Philippe continued. “---The first sector includes farming, mining and logging. Those regions are designated with numbers from 150 to 199. The second include factories which refine metals, produce furniture, or pack farm products such as meat.---“

A piece of paper again. But this time, it felt like there was something inside. It was soft and muggy; must be a gum inside. I heard a voice inside my head saying, ‘It’s a gift.’

“---Those are Regions 100 to 149. The third on the other hand, include teachers like me, managers and other service providers for Regions 50 to 99. I was born in Region 92 for your information. I studied Education there, and moved here and bwalaah! I’m standing here in front of you.” He was making a gesture that mascots did when playing tricks in children parties. “Wanna know more about me?” Again, nobody seemed interested. “No? Okay…“ He carried on. “While the fourth sector has the scientists, doctors, and lawyers on 1 to 49. And lastly is the fifth, being the most important. The highest levels of decision making in a society or economy is there, the top executives, the government, universities, and elite schools like ours, nonprofit, healthcare, culture, and the media on 200 to 214. ---”

Someone blipped my back. When I looked behind, the girl raised her left brow, grinning. What is her name again? I couldn’t remember. Someone chuckled.

“---But you know guys, there are many political activists who attempted to bring back the political stability and the way the countries were supposed to be. However, scarcity is still being controlled. That’s why the nineteen powerful presidents were selected to control everything. Meaning, there are now only nineteen elected presidents in the world, to be specific. Only nineteen. Of course, everybody knows about the assassination of the two most powerful presidents almost 21 years ago. Oh well...Anyways… this is History class, so don’t take it to heart? Alright?” He moved back to the table and closed the book. “Run free and go wild, but don’t break anything, alright? Class dismissed.”

 

Tapping me from behind, Chloe greeted. “Hi Sammy!” I was stunned, she called me ‘Sammy’. I looked at her as we walk. I could feel those who saw us raging now. “What’s wrong Sam?” She asked pensively. I kept my head down. She puffed, “So, your name is Sam. Mind if I call you Sammy? I called you last night. I remember. Here--” she handed me a small piece of yellow paper—sticky paper, “--someone gave you a gift early in the morning.”

“So it was you who called me… How did you know my number?” I asked, reading what was written on the paper--- LEECH! I just realized ‘that’ girl who spanked me in History class actually made an effort for this gibberish act.

“I asked Chelsea. I passed out last night... I was drunk” she said, laughing.

“Drunk? You’re allowed to drink? I mean… you’re not even eighteen.”

“Yeah… It's easy, really. It’s not a big deal. You should come with us next time—“

“I don’t think that’ll be a good idea.” I said as we mount the stairs. “Why did you call anyway?”

“Well, next week will be the school’s thirtieth anniversary. There will be a lot of activities for the whole week. It will be my first time to attend too. But I’m not into that kind of stuff. I’d prefer to stay home.” She said, grabbing my arm. “Our seniors will be busy, but we can help them for the preparations. They announced it earlier, just in case you didn’t hear it.” She paused, “Let’s go the council.” She smiled, pulling me and leading the way.

It seemed like the school just realized that next week will be the celebration. They announced the preparations pretty late. Is it always like that? I wondered.

“The school organizers are not into celebrations.” She cleared. “They’re more focused on competing with other elite schools. Celebrations, festivals… Charles’s grandfather does not like them.” She blinked twice, her posture was suddenly perfect.

There was no one in the council’s office when we got there. Chloe pouted her lips, and rumpled her brows.  It looked like a large living room: sofas with leather upholstery and a glass table at the center; a large abstract painting that covers entirely the wall on the right; a couple of bookshelves and PCs on the opposite corner; and a long wooden table with eight chairs before the overlooking window-- with neatly arranged curtains. There was a gigantic portrait of a man who almost looked like Charles in between the bookshelves. There were lots of figurines too. The other things I saw were a coffee maker and a white board with - PARTY! and a doodle I couldn’t understand.

”It doesn’t look like the typical student council office I have in mind.” I said. “I should go now.”

“No, let’s stay here.” She implied, sitting on the sofa comfortably, and then brushing her hair to the side.

“I’ll help with the preparations.” I said. She just looked at me. When I was about to reach the door, someone opened it. It was Charles. I suddenly became a stuck up. Our eyes met, it was just a moment but it felt like an hour already.

“Hi Sammy” he said, walking towards me. I couldn’t move. I was actually blocking his way! He leaned his face forward, still looking at me-- so close! I jolted backwards.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry!” I stammered. “Yes, I am all right.”

Chloe heaved a sigh. “You’re scaring her, Charles.”

He patted my head lightly. I couldn’t look at him in the eyes, but I could see from his chest (where I was looking) that he was smiling. He is smiling, isn’t he? He walked towards the small refrigerator on the corner that I did not see earlier. My eyes were following him. He opened it and took a bottle shaped like a chess piece with Fillico written on it.

“Hello” Chelsea greeted, who just came in. “Leaving already?”

“Yes.” I replied adjusting my specs.

“She wants to help with the preparations. Do something about it Chels… I mean, we know how they treat her. We shouldn’t just leave her like that.” She paused in a jiffy. “How about that thing you told me?” Chloe said, looking at Chelsea and then to Charles.

“The list of players.” Charles cleared his throat and drinks again.

“Yeah, why not help us here instead?” Chelsea asked. “Other members of the council are not here, and I doubt if they will even help. They are busy themselves with practices and college entrance exams.”

 So I did.

It was the first time I was able to spend the whole day with them. It was the first time I laughed openly too. I didn’t know they were fun to be with. I found out that Charles was actually outspoken, funny, and easy to tease. He was always smiling, sometimes clumsy too, cool, and very intelligent.

Is this really okay? I asked myself.  They were so carefree. They looked happy. It seemed like they had no troubles in life like I did. I don’t think I fit here. After all, they were rich; they shouldn’t be spending time with a commoner like me. I was not saying I was not happy being part of the Mizuki family. Honestly, I was very glad they found me. I was grateful I met Akito and Akira, but ever since I got into this school, I couldn’t stop comparing myself to these people. I’m terrible… how could I think this way? The Mizuki’s were elite too! They were considered one of the best in the police force. I kept reminding myself that.

If these people would find out I was just adopted, it would only make everything worst. Taking advantage with the Mizuki’s influence, I’m the lowest… Despicable. And what’s more, I didn’t even know who my real parents were and where they were. I didn’t know my identity. I didn’t have memories. I had no past, just the orphanage.

 I was good as dead. If the orphanage did not find me; if Father Emmanuel did not give me a name; if Akito did not take me…what and who will I become? Will I live the life I have now? Or will it be different?

Whatever my past was, I didn’t want to know. No need. I would rather remain a fool. I am what I am now. What I didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me. Or so, at least.  

I am happy. I should be happy.

I was about to leave when Charles said, “I’m always worried about how you handle yourself around our schoolmates. I mean, I never received a complaint from you or your family. I see you with different bruises, and you always say you bumped into something. Dirty uniform, messy hair… Now I know. I saw it myself this morning and it was the first time. As tough as a guy. You really are interesting, Miss Mizuki.” He chuckled.

I didn’t know what to say. It would be embarrassing if I say something.

“My bestfriend’s father died last week.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, hands in the pocket, poker-faced. “He’d be glad if we visit him. Do you want to come with us?”

I remembered what I told Akira this morning when he asked why I wanted to have a haircut-- For a change. I should move on, I decided that. A new beginning was waiting for me. So I looked at Charles and met his gaze, I nodded. “Yes.”

That made him smile.

Chapter 4: "Cat's Eyes"

 

“We have to dare to be ourselves, however frightening or strange that self may prove to be.” --May Sarton

It was typed-written on a buff-colored tissue paper. The other pieces had different passages too, but this one got me. The rain had finally died down, but I was still waiting for Chloe inside a coffee shop near the meeting spot we had agreed to. Good thing I jogged this morning when the day was still clear. It was a thing, actually. Glad I did my homeworks too as I should be. Well, it was the weekend and it would be my first to hang out with strangers.

I damped the napkin to my lips for I was sure my face was already oily that you could fry cook on it. I thought at least I should look tidy in front of these rich people. I was just not used to this weather. It had been a mystery but never been a problem.

A few minutes later, a black car stopped in front of the shop, rolled down the window at the back and suddenly Chloe’s face appeared.

“Sorry, I dozed off. I just can’t handle the rain. It’s making lazy and all.” Then a man in a black tux swiftly got out from the front and opened the door where Chloe was. “Let’s go Sam. Hop in.” I did what she said. Then the man closed the door for me and sat back in front. The man on driver’s seat was also in a black tux, and black sunglasses. They were making me uncomfortable. It had the ominous feeling.

“Charles will be late. He has a meeting he said.” She pouted. “Tasuki was not in the house, he’s making me worried.”

“Tasuki?” I repeated.

“Yah, the guy we’re meeting. I’m currently living in his house. He’s my childhood friend too, like Charles. He is not that friendly though, but don’t worry about it. He’s name is actually pronounced ‘Taski’, but it spells ‘Tasuki’. Oh I’m not used to Japanese names anyway.” She chuckled and turned.

“What?” I gave her a puzzled look. “Anything on my face?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually wearing that.” She giggled. “It looks fun. I like it.”

I was wearing a plain black pair of leggings with not-so-tight denim short, white sneakers, plain green sweater, and ponytailed my shoulder-length auburn hair. On the other hand, she was wearing a dreamy vintage dress crafted in what I think was cotton featuring a round neckline with row edge, short puff sleeves, four buttons front plankets, a side invisible zip closure, a belt with tassels drawstring, multi layer mesh skirt with blue mesh lining hemline and nude heels.

I scoffed. “It’s not. Mine’s simple. I like yours.”

“Just the casual.” She looked outside the window, fazed.

There was a soccer field and kids playing were soaking wet. I caught a glimpse from the driver, although he was wearing sunglasses you could say he was looking at us.

“You had your hair cut.” She inspected my face. “It’s good--- Better.”

Could it be that Chloe wanted to be simple? Maybe even rich people have their own perplexity. Not sure, but it felt like it. “My brother would be cutting my nose off because of it. He didn’t like it whenever I cut my hair.”

“Your brother prefers girls with long hair. I think most men do, after all they needed something to pull when things start to heat up--”

I cleared my throat. 

“—I like it when they do that.”

 

The house was so big. A mansion surrounded by tall gates, green lawn. Nevertheless, what actually amazed me was the number of men guarding the residence. They were scattered everywhere all wearing the same thing. Sunglasses, black suit, black tie, black shoes. Like clones. Both hands at the back, not moving, expressionless, very much like statues. The inside was quiet, gloomy, caliginous, and spacious. Chloe led me to the living room.

“Is there something you want to drink?” I shook my head. I actually wanted to pee. She made a gesture I didn’t catch, and that’s when I realized there was a maid waiting far behind me. She bowed and walked away. “While we wait why don’t we talk about you, Sam?” She sat comfortably to couch and checked her phone. She frowned, placing the mobile under the pillow beside her. “There’s nothing to do much in here. What a good plan this is... That Charles. He was the one who planned this. He’s really a pain. Really!” She heaved a sigh.

“There’s nothing to talk about me.” I dismissed the idea with a flick of hand.

“I’ve been staying here for five months now, I think.” She started. “I ran away from my family back there in Carmelo---”

Carmelo? I asked myself, trying to register where it was. I remembered it was mentioned in a series grandma used to watch. The one about fashion.

“—You see… My parents keep bossing me around. They were arranging my marriage behind my back. Thrice.” Raising three fingers, and then she sighed.

“I can’t believe there are still people doing that… I mean--”

“Exactly!” Her pitch was a little too high and a little too loud, nodding. “Those guys were not even good looking. One day I just snapped and decided to go here when mom demanded me to meet the fourth guy.” She chuckled, scratching her temple. “My mom became an actress when she was just twelve. Because of living and making money in such a young age, she matured quickly and decided to get engaged at nineteen. She was just so in love she forgot she was still young and she should still be living her life to its fullest. She was a darling and every man just begged their knees for her. They broke up five years after and from there her career bloomed. She had a couple of relationships but they didn’t last long. At the age thirty-five, she realized most men of her age wanted younger and bouncier women—juicier.” She let her eyes grew. “Luckily she met my father at forty-two.”

 A man on suit came with the maid earlier. The maid placed a glass teapot with a large metal infuser chamber inside, and two small cups on the table. “Rooibos tea, ma’am?” Chloe nodded. When the old lady looked at me, I shook my head.

She took a sip and continued. “Because of her many failed relationships, she wanted me to focus on one man. My father just keeps scratching his forehead about it. I just think she never learned from her experience that getting engaged or too serious to a man at a younger age is ridiculous. Once you get pregnant, it’s over. The once lusty, sexy, delicious young woman is now a mother. Fuck!” Another sip allowed her to calm herself. “I salute girls who maintained their dignity as young mother. They’re awesome. I just…you know… I want to have fun and be the rockstar of my own life, focus on myself, travel the world and achieve my goals before I’m thirty. Lucky, for you… you can do whatever you want.” She looked down to her knees. “Finding that one special man is hard nowadays. And it’ll be harder someday, maybe. I guess one day, I’ll just have to give in to who my mother wants. Hopefully not.” Her halfhearted smile meant a lot. “They don’t know I’m here by the way. They have no idea I am living with a very handsome guy.”

The suit guy lowered his head to Chloe’s ear and whispered something to her. Chloe’s eyes rolled and nodded. The suit guy took a step back and just stood there near the maid. Not moving.

“He’s---” she was interrupted by the sudden angry burst of ringing from her phone. “It’s Charles” she stood up and went somewhere. “Hullo Charles?”

I gathered my courage and asked the maid, “Uhm, where’s the comfort room?” She looked at me and told me to follow her. I never thought asking about comfort room in someone’s house needed a lot of audacity.

When I got out from the comfort room, the maid was gone. I lost myself in a maze of corridors. Where is it again? I couldn’t remember. What the hell? The place was murky, so I started panicking.

I heard a soft clatter, then a grumble. Following the sound, I found myself standing in front of a door. Is this it? I thought. 

I could hear someone’s breathing hard inside, like hyperventilating, and then a clinking sound. I knocked lightly carrying my guts. There was no answer, but I could still hear some groaning. Knocked again, more strident this time. Still none. I grabbed the knob and it was not locked, so I opened it and barged in.

It was dark, only a reflection of light from the moon lit the room. A large window was wide open, letting the curtain sway back and forth from the sweet wind. A person? I asked myself. The shadow seemed like it was bent over a tall table. The person inhaled abruptly and then exhaled, grumbling as he straightened his back. It sounded like a man’s. 

“Excuse me… I got lost… and--” A wave of nausea surged through me as I stood in the room. An orange-colored small light was suddenly prominent. I didn’t notice it earlier. It lifted and its color flared. Air was filled rapidly with a distinct smell of burn. “I got separated from Chloe...and--” He puffed and a stream, thick white smoke popped downwards until it scattered, hiding his silhouette. I couldn’t see him now. There was another clinking sound of glass, and I said squeezing my arm, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t just come in like that. I’m really sorry. I’ll leave now.”

When I was about to turn, he grabbed my hoodie and slammed me to the wall. He’s fast. I didn’t even sense him near me. He was like meters away earlier.  He lifted me by grabbing the collar of my sweatshirt then whammed me to I-don’t-know-what, and something fell. A sharp, ear-piercing, shattering sound resonated in the room. He swung me again. Hundred pieces scattered on the ground glimmering as the moon light reflected them.

Finally, half of his face was revealed. I could see his eyes. They were gleaming, glowing. Like cat’s eyes in the dark. They were yellow. Or gold. Must be the effect of moon’s illumination. His eyes were lifeless, dead. It was frightening, yet I felt sad. I couldn’t stop myself from being amazed. He was grabbing me still, looking at me. I could feel the searing pain now. He was strong.

Not this again, I thought. Involving myself with these people didn’t change the fact that I was different from them. It was dumb of me to forget that. I guessed making friends would be like kicking whales down the beach.

I realized I was shaking. Maybe I bit my tongue, or my lip. I was not sure, but I could taste blood. My back. My shoulders. My arms. The impact. Everything happened so fast.

He was glaring at me, not blinking. My glasses were gone. It flew somewhere. I had no time to think about why I could see this guy so clearly without my glasses. Maybe, I had become a cat too, since cats could see clearly in the dark. My eyes were closing. I guessed my head hit something that my brain swam with stars.

Chapter 5: "Saved"

For a moment when I woke up, I didn’t know where I was, or what time it was. I gritted my teeth against the pain and straightened up, blanching. I realized I was in my own room.

“Sam, are you, alright?” Chloe asked. Seeing her stunned me. She looked worried and said. “You know, you’re brother is soooo cute--- I mean, really! When he was asking me what happened to you, I almost fainted! Not because I didn’t know what to say, but I was so nervous that he was looking at me with those lovely eyes!” She shrieked and giggled. “Oh my God, Sammy! I should always come visit you here!” She  said. “By the way, how are you feelin’?”

“My body’s aching. My back… my upper body actually.”

She looked really troubled now. “Tasuki was high… He was drunk too.”

“So that’s him?” I gave her a quizzical look. “Way too friendly, I guess. There goes my first hang out.”

Chloe sighed and then chuckled softly. “When we saw you two, you were unconscious and I was like ‘what the hell, Tasuki?!’ He said he thought you were a guy... Must be because it was dark and you had your short hair ponytailed. He was on drugs, so he must be hallucinating… or I don’t know. I’m not into that kind of stuff, so I don’t know. That guy really sucks. He was smoking and drinking… It was like a suicide. I can’t imagine how potent that is.” Her face was suddenly serious. “I’m sorry about this… we can’t find your glasses too.”

“I’m good… but who do you mean by ‘we’?”

“Charles and me. And a maid.”

“What?! Oh no! He saw me… Charles saw me in that condition…”

“He was really worried; he even pulled Tasuki away from you and gave him a good punch. Well, your mouth was bleeding… and the room was a mess so… yeah.”

“What?! He did that?! I don’t know how to face him now… and that Tasuki… I’m so embarrassed… What will I do Chloe?! No…” I stammered.

“Why are you embarrassed? Tasuki should be the one. But I doubt that… he is not that kind of guy anyway…”

Chloe went home pretty late. She was really worried. I could feel and see that. It really felt great when someone’s feeling that way for you when they knew you were not okay. She told me she preferred being called Ichigo, since calling her Chloe was too formal for someone she treated a close friend. Friend. I finally had someone I could call a friend. She was like a big sister.

And Charles… he punched his best friend for me. My heart could not stop from fluttering.

I was happy that I forgot the pain I was feeling physically. I had no bruises too. When I asked Ichigo how come she knew where I live she just said she learned it from Chelsea. Again. She said they looked it up on my contact information. Of course they could that, why did I forget about it?

 I turned to the other side of the bed and trailed the smoke of Tasuki’s cigarette from my jacket. I didn’t bother remove it, instead I had left it put me to sleep.

 

The Sunday morning was burning up. I thought it would rain today like yesterday. My upper body was still aching. I slept on my side with both my arms down like a log.

“Who’s the guy you were with last night?” Akira asked. He was sitting on dining table, reading a newspaper.

“Huh?” I warbled while smothering myself with crumpets, egg and bacon he made me.

“You were unconscious last night.” Sipping on his coffee, he glared at me. “A man on suit and sunglasses carried you. Just what the heck were you doing? You shouldn’t let another man touch and carry you like that, you idiot.”

“Oh really? I had no idea I was actually carried.” I said perplexed. “I felt dizzy and fainted yesterday. Maybe because of the weather?” I said, clearing my throat.

“You dufus, who would believe that?” He rolled his eyes. “It’s not like your first time in such weather. Your friend said you lost your glasses too. How clumsy.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it… I can see you clearly now.” I leaned closer to his face, grew my eyes and made a funny face. He pushed my face down and hissed. He opened the newspaper wide, and made it like a barrier. I couldn’t see his face. “Maybe it’s finally corrected?”

“But you didn’t answer my question. Hmm?”

“What is—you mean the guy? The guy must be Tasuki’s driver… I don’t know him but he is a friend of Ichigo.”

“Tasuki? A friend of Ichigo—good I thought he is your boyfriend, or something.”

“Why, if he is… would you beat him?”

“Of course. I mean--” He cleared his throat. “You are my sister. And you’re still young—

“You had a girlfriend when you were sixteen. You had a lot--”

He slid down the paper and sighed. “That’s because--” A fleeting pause. “I’m a guy.”

“What’s with the meaningful pause there?” I smirked.

“Just eat, you pesky dimwit.” Then he stood up. “I’ll stay at the office tonight.”

“What?! No! It’s Sunday!” I said, grabbing a part of his shirt.

“So?” he asked, giving me a puzzled look. “It’s not like my work stops every Sunday. I’m not a student.”

“But, you can’t leave me here.” I plead curving my mouth downward. I started raising my voice, “I mean, how about dinner? Is dad coming home? Where is he anyway?”

“Dad’s busy with a case. Just order anything you want.” He brushed off my hand.

I stared at him, mouth still cambered, as he walked towards the stairs. He glanced at me for a moment and caught me still gawking at him. He chuckled and turned closer to me.

“Are you still sick?” he asked, putting the back of his palm to my forehead. “Are you in pain or something? How are you feeling?” When I looked at him and met his eyes, he instantly removed his hand and flicked a finger to my head. I automatically touched that part in pain. “Just keep resting. You’re not taking care of yourself. You’re always making me worried…” Then he went upstairs.

Akira’s clairvoyance always amazed me. It seemed that he knew everything I had been going through. It might just be hunches but, it was always a home run. It was like we were talking through gestures and simple glances. He knew me really well.

 

It was almost six in the afternoon when the phone ringed jolting me from my slumber. It was Akito. He sound delighted when I asked him when he will be back. Akira’s gone and I was alone in the house.

“Maybe next week, sweety.” I rubbed my eyes, blinking myself awake. “Sammy, what about Dr. Khali?”

“What about her?” I stretched my legs.

“Don’t you wanna see her?” The other line choppied.

“Why are we suddenly talking about this?” I chuckled, shifting the phone to my right hand.

“It’s been two years, I’m just saying.” He grumbled.

“I came by her office before my entrance ceremony—

“Really?

“Yeah, but she was not there. Where are you by the way?”

“Just somewhere. I’ll call Akira.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, sweety.”

“Bye dad.” We both chortled. Then the other line was disconnected.

I sat back in the sofa, dazed. Breathed loudly and exhaled slowly. Turned the television on, volume up. Why is this happening now? I was panicking, that every sound I hear awakened my imaginations. I could feel my head thumping; I could hear my heart banging even with the television so loud.

“Dammit!” My body was still aching in pain that I could feel the weight of my body. I felt tired. I turned off the TV, checked the door and windows tightly closed. I went upstairs and fell into another sleep.

I could guess it was still evening, or two, three, four in the morning when I gained consciousness. It was still dark. I was half-awake. A little light permeated from the street light. I could feel the wind; I usually forgot to close the glass door on my room’s patio. Both Akira and Akito would be mad if they find out.

When I finally opened my eyes, my eyes broadened when I saw a girl standing near the patio door. Long black hair covering her face, white dress. I gasped in shock and slid myself in horror and fell on the other side of the bed. “Shit!” I cursed and it was the first time. It was gone before I knew it. I was hyperventilating, blinking myself to reality. I was not dreaming. I was sweating, jaw still dropped. My chest was running wild. My head was throbbing like crazy. I gulped, thinking what just happened.

Hairs at the back of my neck rose suddenly, and this time I could feel a presence behind my back. I screamed, ran and tripped. I thought of running downstairs, but I couldn’t—she was standing near the door.  Face on the floor, I heard her whimper.

“Stop this!” I shrieked. My head started hurting; I could feel the nagging of my body.  I sat, leaned my back on the wall behind me near the bathroom door. The sobbing started to get louder, like it was getting nearer. I capped my ears and shut my eyes, “Stop it!” I started crying. And then it was gone.

I opened my eyes, and saw a silhouette of a man through the curtain. He was standing on the terrace. He pulled away the curtain and finally let himself in. Before I realized, I ran to him. Embracing him tightly, I cried onto his arms. Relieved yet scared, but I didn’t care. Whoever he was, whatever he was. Good or bad.

He saved me. 

Chapter 6: "All Maybes"

 

“Did you know that people live because they have to know their purpose?”

Dmitry sat next to me under the old Acacia tree. It was one of those trees at the back of the orphanage. There were no spectacles to see, but it was the shadiest.  “This is my spot.” Although there was sadness in his eyes, still he smiled. “Sister Cecilia has guests. He’s back, and he brought his son with him. I heard from Anthony that the old man is a detective. He looks kind and weak, but his body says otherwise. He could be a good father.” He looked at the eleven year old me with his green eyes that almost resembled mine and said, “When I was your age, I’ve always wanted to be a detective. I wanted to prove my father’s innocence and take him out of the prison. He was the only one I have, but they took him. I was hungry for truth and that hunger molded my mind into a dream. Soon I realized that dreams can change due to circumstances and needs. Oh, how quickly life could change and living here for decades made me accept things I never did before. It changed my mind.” He touched my head like how Father Emmanuel always did. His hand was as warm as steaming milk during those very cold winter nights. “For the first time since I came here, I was wrong to think our orphanage would never have visitors. Give yourself a second chance. I think if Father Em’s here, he’d tell you the same.”

“I never thought you can give quite a preach.” Helen chuckled as she butted in, clutching the side of the tree. “Tell me what happens if you never learned your purpose?”

“Helen! I didn’t see you coming.” He gave a sigh as he continued. “Well, it means two things. One, may be because you keep changing the path towards that purpose. You were not contented, and chose the longer process. Or maybe you keep denying yourself to that purpose thinking it is not what you wanted.”

She looked dazed, but uninterested. ”What about the other reason?”

He cleared his throat and paused for a while. “May be you are not destined to know it from the beginning. You were close, but there was interference.”

Helen gaped. “Destined?”

“Accident. Murder. Suicide.”

“Okay, that’s creepy for a deacon to say. I didn’t know you believe in destiny or something. Anyways, Sister Cecilia wants to see you.”

He looked at his watch and cackled. He took a deep breath and said as he stood up, “The ball is in your court, Sammy.” I had no idea why he said those things; his past and his dream. Destiny. Innocence.

Helen looked at me in aversion. “I’m sure they’ll love to have you in their family, Helen.” I said in all tenderness I could. It was her who always wanted to have a new family, dreaming good life full of trinket and maybe hunky-dories. This could be her chance.

“Who would want a grand mal?” her voice cracked. “Stop adding an insult to an injury.” Her voice suddenly tensed, giving an obvious unexpected surge of disagreement. “Follow your greed, and let the people see your swinishness. Let them see the rotten bottled up inside you. I’ll be glad to see your back. Nobody needs loose cannon here.”

Sharp tongue, harsh words. I was the only one she treated that way. I didn’t know what made a chip in her shoulder that must have caused her growing hate of me. I was thinking about what she said, until I realized Akito was standing right in front of me. Reaching for my hand.

 

A dream. A loud whack woke me. The curtain danced as cold air swept into the room. Jitters crept at the thought of last night. Was it a dream too? I started to think seeing those had become a ritual. There was a man. I ran to him and I couldn’t remember anything after that. Akira? Before I realized it, I was looking at my supposedly lost eyeglass near the corner of the table.

I jumped and ran towards the door calling Akira’s name, thinking he must be home. He was sitting on stairs, hands on his head as if he was having a headache.

“I thought you’ll sleep at the office. You… you scared me last night. Did you forget the keys?”

“What are you talking about?” he said in a monotone.

Akito’s room was open. Papers and folders flooded the bed and the floor. For someone as organized as him, it was the first time I saw his room jumbled.

“You went in from my room. I can’t believe you could climb those walls. I mean, you’re like--”

“I just got home.”

That left me speechless, I froze. Seeing things I couldn’t explain made me believe in ghosts. My fingers trembled, adrenaline rush fading as my pulse throbbed in my skull. I felt it-- that person’s warmth, his breathing, and his strong arms that encircled me. Was that a dream then? What about my glasses? Why is that in my room? I thought I lost that in Tasuki’s place…

Akira was not moving from his position. There must be something wrong. He would usually tease me, flick my head or wag my hair. “What’s wrong? What happened?” I asked.

He took a deep breath and exhaled miserably, then silence. Every sound was resonating; the ticking of clock, the beating of my chest. What he said next was even more… more… I couldn’t find the right words.

“Dad’s dead.”

I couldn’t respond to that that my mouth remained open. My body just died. I didn’t know what to do. Is this the right feeling? The right response when you lost someone? A bullet through the heart. I stared at Akira’s broad back. Suddenly, he was very far, I couldn’t reach him. Like we’re oceans apart. His loneliness, I couldn’t imagine its depth.

Akira left that morning.

It was the first time the house felt empty. The person who gave me my second chance, he’s gone. Forever.

Akira must be planning to burn the documents in Akito’s room. Newspaper articles about his mother and sister’s death, clippings, pictures, and lots of pages with ‘Top Secret’ stamped on it. Was he looking for something? If yes, then what was he trying to find in a bunch of papers with words that seemed all Greek to me? I would never know. He did not mention anything about his work life before. Even Akito never did.

I sat on the floor gathering my thoughts. Until I cried for the first time. 

I remembered the last time I saw Akito, he was asking me to call him ‘dad’. Whenever I did, there was a tingling feeling, a feeling of longing for someone to call ‘dad’ and the feeling of finally having one. It was a nice feeling and embarrassing at the same time. Akito would tease how my face would become so red. His voice on the phone, calm and lively as usual last night, I never thought that would be the last time.

There was a blinking red light below the escritoire that you wouldn’t notice unless you are lying on the floor. Tears blurred my vision, so I stared at it for almost a minute and finally went to it. It was an old phone, almost low in battery. No calls, no messages. And an envelope with a note saying ‘Friday, 5pm Ground Zero’.

Inside the envelope were unclear green and black pictures, may be captured from an old CCTV, with red markers encircling a man’s face. All Friday but different times and dates stamped on the photos.

Friday. Not sure if the note was weeks or days old. Or if it was referring to this coming Friday. I started researching on Ground Zero but found nothing noteworthy. I didn’t know what this was to Akito. Or if he already met the person who wrote this, or if he even knew the person in flesh.

The funeral was all tears and black. Friends and colleagues of Akito came, it was just heartbreaking. I was waiting for grandma and Uncle Natsume but they didn’t come. Maybe Akira didn’t tell them? I just sat there with Akira as he struggled to fight grief. I felt the emptiness in him as he stared quietly to his father’s picture. A picture so lively and a frozen smile. There were exhaling sobs and jerking gasps on the background. The lump in my throat kept growing. My nose ran and tears trickled down my cheeks. I tasted salt. I held Akira’s hand and felt the cold. I squeezed him and he squeezed back. He inhaled and a heavy sigh got out from his lips as he closed his eyes hoping it was all just a dream.

***

Detective George Yan took a sip in his coffee as he walked towards us in the café nearby our neighborhood. He was a long time friend and partner in crime of Akito. It was almost a year since I last saw him in Akira’s mother and sister’s death anniversary. There were rumors that he was actually ‘in to hiding’. Akira said he had been taking the cases Akito thought as nonsensical and laughable. He was a very nice and humorous person. Akira usually called him Uncle Gin.

Seven years ago, on the day when he learned Akito resigned as a police officer, he seceded the next day. They were like brothers.

“Do you drink coffee, Sammy?” I shook my head. “Your father must be somewhere dribbling right now. He loved coffee so much; he wanted it dark and bitter. T’was like water to him. Like those cases he loved handling- the darker and vicious it is the better. ”

“What about you, uncle? I’ve never seen you in forever. Some said you were running away from something. Women? Debts?” I joked.

He hee-hawed. “You two must’ve missed me. I was with your father for months tackling something in that region.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Region 56.” Akira’s head fell from sleeping; he was exhausted considering the funeral and at the same time his work. Uncle asked him to go home first and so he left. “Rumors are spread like wildfire, but it doesn’t carry much of everything.” He continued. “Just a part of that ‘everything’.”

“Uncle,” I said. Uncle George looked up as he turned a page of his newspaper. His eye bags appeared darker and heftier; it was like looking at a forty-six years old man in his sixties. “I didn’t know you two were going out of the country. And why at 56? Did you see Father Gab and the others?” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “What happened? How did father--”

“Your brother has a good reason for not telling you anything about it.”

“He’s being unreasonable. I need to know too.” I admonished.

He took a few long sighs, running a hand over his cinereal streaked scruffy beard. “You have a point and I know that. Of course he knows that too. Sad stories are meant to be told slowly, not in haste. You know that better than any of us.”

“Is it accident, really?” I asked, trying to connect it to the dream (yes, a memory) I had with Dmitry, and what he said about purpose and that second reason. After all, it was untimely. “Just what ifs.”  

“It is.” He remarked without hesitation. He seemed sure. “They were talking about it in the office. It was raining that day, and on the way here the car slipped.” Scratching his temple wistfully. “He was careless. He was a very adventurous person; I never once thought it could end his life. If he went there with me, I shouldn’t be here with you. I must’ve died with him.” The atmosphere suddenly melancholic, the silence was hurtful. He sipped on his coffee then continued. “Remember those guys we’re with when we came to pick you up in the orphanage?”

Looked to my left recalling that time. “I can’t remember their names and faces…but I do remember there were five of you including Akira. What about them?”

“Actually, those two died almost seven months ago while investigating in that region. That’s why your father and I returned there.”

“What happened to them?”

He shook his head. “It’s already a long row to hoe and I still dunno.” He snorted. “I guess you got your curiosity from the Mizuki boys. Is that what you get living with those jokers?” He sneered, probably pulling himself out of misery. “The first time I saw you, you were just too quiet, wide-eyed, innocent little girl. Now, look at you! Time sure flies.”

“Dad called the night before he…uh…” A lump suddenly grew in my throat stopping me from saying it. His eyes narrowed, pupils dilated. I cleared my throat. “He said I should go visit Dr. Khali again.” His expression seemed interested.

“What did you tell him?” he asked. I shook my head. “Do you like her? That Khali?”

Dr. Elizabeth Khali was my psychiatrist. I didn’t know anything about her, except the way she handled her work. She was an old lady with hoarse voice that kept hunting me even in my sleep.

I nodded. “Do you? She’s kind. She’s a female, so I think we had a connection. I felt that she understood me.”

“Of course, that’s their job. You know…” he uttered snapping his fingers and making a face I couldn’t describe.

“No, I wasn’t talking about that.”

“You should see her. Akito wanted that.” There was a thin pause. “How’s your studies? I heard you’re being bullied. Is that true?”

 “It’s fine. I have friends. Finally.”

“You met him? The kid…” he looked up with his brows furrowed. It seemed he couldn’t remember the next words. “Uh, I forgot his name.”

“What kid?”

He hummed thinking hard. “He has a tattoo and--”

“Oh a tattoo, yeah, I think so. Almost every boy in that school has ink on their bodies. Abominable.”

“Abominable?” he laughed. “Lady, that’s what you call art!”

“Don’t tell me you have one?” He was making a sympathetic tsking sound, shaking his head side to side. “They look like bad guys trying to look cool to me.” I explained. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. “Uncle, there’s something I think I need to show you.” I reached for my bag to give him the envelope and the note I found in Akito’s room. Maybe he knew about it too. Not sure if it is somehow connected to anything, but it was still Akito’s. Most of me wanted to at least know a little of his work, a curiosity. This classic play-detective-game was to blame.

As I was about to pull it out, his eyes suddenly grew and held a hand. He gulped superlatively, eyes shifting eastward and westward. “What’s wrong, uncle?” Did he know what I am about to show him? A quick glance over the shoulder-- just a crowd of people I did not know who obviously love mud in their system. “Is there something wrong? Someone you know came by?”

“I forgot there’s something I needed to buy.” He clarified with a mumbled curse.  Or maybe I was just being pessimistic, as usual. Before I could say anything, he stood up, finished his coffee and said his goodbye. “You take care of yourself—and your brother.” I followed him outside as he immediately got in his old tinted faded blue car.

“Sammy!” An all familiar voice called. Ichigo. The last on my list: see someone I knew from school. She was running towards me in her six-inched wedge heels and eyeblinding flowy yellow dress. “You brat! You should buy a cellphone or any damn thing where I can contact you anytime, anywhere! It’s frustrating when some idiot is hardly reachable.”

“Are you talking about me?”

“Who else would it be?” She hissed as she pulled me back into the café and flashed a gleaming white smile. “Coffee?” I shook my head. It was like déjà vu. She raised her hand, waving to someone.

“What are you doing?”

“Menu and order.” She said innocently.

“It’s actually self-service here. And that you’re actually waving at a customer” She looked disappointed finally taking her arm down and brushed her long blonde hair.

“I’m sorry about your father.” Yup, those words. I was thinking what Akira felt whenever someone would drop those words. To my point-of-view, he didn’t like it at all. It was the same expression I eventually learned these past days. And of course, my very bones knew from the beginning that sympathy was not enough unless suffered the same fate. A grim and a fact.

Akira will be fine.

“Did my brother tell you?”

“He told Charles, I heard it accidentally. How are you? How’s your brother?”

“It’ll just take time. I need a job. I don’t want him do all the work, I have to help him.”

Her mouth curved downward. “I think I need that too.”

“Why?” I asked in terror.

“I’m broke. My parents cut me off. My bank’s drained. They don’t know where I am, and never heard from me. I’m driving them nuts the way they’re driving me.” She laughed. “I’ll ask Tasuki. He has a hotel. It’s not a five, but it’s still a hotel.”

“So, what did you come here for?”

“Oh yeah!” She took the paper bag. “It’s all blue. They’re all my babies and I’m giving them to you.”

“But-- What for?”

“Tomorrow’s party, dummy!”

I realized tomorrow will be Friday. “Time sure flies. I didn’t realize. I don’t like parties at all… thank you, though.”

”Ditto. But they were really busy at school. I heard the council is doing a lot of effort inviting people. I was actually absent the whole time too.” She laughed. “So if they bully you for not helping, you’ll have me.” We both giggled. “I hope the seniors will love it, it’s for them after all. We can drink somewhere after the party.”

“You just said you’re broke--”

“Not when it come to drinking.”

I rolled my eyes. “By the way, have you heard of Ground Zero?” I asked unthinkingly, lifting one shoulder. “Maybe you know?”

“You mean earth”s—Oh wait… Isn’t that a code or something?”

“I’m not sure.”

“I think it’s a casino hotel…” She shrugged. I took the note and showed it to her. “Yup. That ‘Friday’ just confirmed it.”

That was fast. “Really? It’s not a code then?”

She leaned closer and hinted, “It’s actually referring to prostitutes.”

“Prostitutes?” I repeated and she nodded. I didn’t know this about Akito, but really? I chuckled with the thought. I guess that explained the old phone. But what about the pictures? Must be from a case his doing. Maybe I was just over analyzing things.

 

I went home and saw Akira sleeping soundly in Akito’s messy room. He was still wearing his navy blue long sleeves, black pants and shoes. He was so tired he didn’t have time to take a bath. Since his dad’s death, he had been coming home late from work, heading straight to his room, no talking, and no eating. He would lock himself. I was left wondering what was in his mind as well as what he was feeling. I never had the chance to talk to him.

Moreover, since that day, there was this tang, a redolence of pervasive cigarette smoke in my room. Prominently at nights, never during the days. Menthol when inhaled, absinthial in maw, and gravelly in the gutter. A soothing feeling in loneliness, but not fear... I was sure neither Akito nor Akira smoke. They were health conscious.

Maybe it was just my imagination. All maybes. I grabbed my specs sitting in the corner table, examined it as I lay in bed.

No lights, just the moon. I was expecting another horror, but the feathery stench towed me to Zs.

Chapter 7: "Just Girls"

The thin skin near my eyes swelled itching in pain after the impassive lady threaded every unwanted follicle of my eyebrows-- she didn't turn a hair every time I closed my eyes gasping in awe. Ichigo on my right side was laughing while putting on eyeliner. The lady started putting me some too, starting with layers of cream and powder. She filled my brows with a small brush touched on a cork eyeshadow, then eyeliner and mascara that made me teary eyed, and blush-ons. I had no idea what I looked like. Ichigo said it would be a surprise. My face was getting thicker and heavier.

"Beauty is gained through pain." She was putting a soft, dusty baby pink lipstick that matches her alabaster skin tone. Actually, anything looked good on her.

"You mean 'enhanced' beauty."

She took a peach coral lipstick in a pouch, came to me and started dabbing. "You have beautiful teal eyes, but your bangs were on the way. You were like a talking Shih Tzu in eyeglasses. Never thought you were human." She grunted clipping my long bangs to the side, and then turned to pick a dress I would wear in that mountain she gave me. "Okay, wear these." She held up a blue knee length sleeveless polyester maxi dress with black lacey florals up top, and a pair of nude three or four inches pointed shoes matching hers.

"Are you sure? Is... isn't that too short? It's like putting lipstick on a pig. And I don't want people to see my oxter. I think I'll just wear jeans and--"

"What the hell are you saying? Every girl fantasizes a princess look. Not a midnight-Cinderella." She chided and forced me into wearing it and pushed me towards the mirror. "There. Fits like a glove."

I walked slowly and was dumbfounded when I saw myself. Tilting my head side to side, swiveling, staring and examining every detail, blinking a few times, pouting my lips. I blasted, "I never thought I am a girl. It was like looking at a different person."

"What's with those puppy eyes? Do you like it?" I looked at her through the mirror. She was wearing pearl embellished navy blue sleeveless crop top midi pencil dress, showing her smokin' lean figure and gigantic hips.

"Well, I don't have that monster body."

"Oh unfortunately, you are a flat board." Chloe said pulling my hair back.

"I don't know if you're being rude and a bully or just being honest."

"Well, I'm being honest and a reliable friend." She then looked at me and gave me a squeeze. It felt like she was worried. "I know your father just died and you should probably be grieving right now. Your brother will get over it. You will. Death is just the beginning for those who are left behind. You both should learn how to enjoy your lives. You have all the time in the world. Life goes on, dummy."

I pursed my lips and nodded lightly. “You sound different.”

“Had to learn how to say it. Charles’s mother, Tasuki’s father, and now…your’s.”

 

 

The car stopped at the entry accosting with red carpet and standing sprays. The car door held open by a man dressed like those of chauffeurs, and Ichigo's long legs finally stretched to the soft carpet.

I followed her to the vestibule enchanted by chandeliers and flowers. The carpeted hall clouded my ears with the seductive sweet sound of a human voice trapped in brass; the sound of bebop tenor sax took me into a different world combined with the adventurous juggling touch of piano. A big fountain surrounded by small spotlights gathered my attention as a crowd of people dancing in their elegant gowns and tuxedos flooded the place, some were even taking videos. Another group of men with strings were standing next to the stage, and when the music ended; they tapped their bows rhythmically on their music strands as others applauded with their hands. Maybe they would be performing too. There was a lady in a small group, dressed in a sparkling red gown holding a huge harp. Some people were shaking her hands. I wished to hear her perform too.

"Wow! I didn't know this place exists inside the campus."

"Me neither. And I just realized the performers are actually from the school's music club. I had no idea they are this good. I thought the real Charlie Parker was playing the sax." She looked at me and straightened my back. "Don't forget that it's not always about the looks, sometimes it's about the attitude and poise. Stop slouching." She said snapping her fingers on almost every word. "You need to have every seductive aura if you want Charles to see how gorge you are tonight."

Ichigo's phone rang, "We're here. Where are you guys?" She paused, looked around and grabbed my hand as we walk towards the carpeted spiral stairs.

The second floor was also crowded with groups of people chatting. Their stylish accessories, shiny and fancy handbags glimmered diamonds and gemstones. They were like walking chandeliers. Everyone was dressed to kill and up to the nines.

"Talent scouts." She said.

"What's that?"

"People looking for people. And they are everywhere. The gymnasium must be somehow connected to this building."

There was a big door which looked like an entrance to a movie house. Ichigo slowly opened it, and brandished a concert hall inside. I actually never had been in one; just saw it on some brochure. The wide podium was sitting at the core of the big room. An old man was standing in the middle of it and upon seeing him, Ichigo elated with excitement. He was saying something I failed to catch on which the crowd applauded with a soft chuckle.

Ichigo pointed to the far left near the other big door. Chelsea was waving at us. Ichigo gave her a smooch on the cheek. When our eyes met, she asked in a whisper, "Is this Sammy?"

"What do you think?" Ichigo nodded grinning as we launched ourselves to seats next to her.

"You look very, very different." She said in astonishment. "You look stunning." I squeezed my hand in bashfulness. Not used for such words.

The place had hollowness in it, making our conversation sound empty but loud. Every thud made a ringing in my ear, even a cough from someone seats away sounded so loud but soft, that even the speaker knew where it was coming from. The speaker's voice sounded differently though- louder and clearer in any other way.

"So far so good VP. So what did we miss?" Ichigo asked keeping her voice down.

"You missed some introductions from our beloved student council President."

Ichigo looked at me, bottom lip jutting out and worded "Sorry". I replied lifting a shoulder.

“Outdoor sports clubs. I only watched Kyle’s game, they won the soccer match against JY Academy.”

“Nice!” Ichigo nodded, running a hand over her wavy hair. Her gold watch twinkling was enough to attract magpies. "I can't believe you guys invited Vladimir Blavatnik. That's freakin' Blavatnik of SunRise! Wow! How did you do that?"

"Well, our pres wanted to make some good impressions from his grandfather, so we surveyed our seniors regarding their future plans. Since most of them have their eyes on business-- knowing majority are already businessmen, they requested an invitation for Mr. Blavatnik. We're lucky. He is actually very enthusiastic about it. And Charles's father knew him unsurprisingly well."

"What about the others?"

"We also invited some noteworthy guests for them, like Josephine Hunt and Zasha Lee of Purple Diamond for our future designers and of course etcetera. Also talent scouts."

Applause oscillated in the big room. A student handed Mr. Blavatnik bottled water. The light dimmed and the projector started running.

"You guys are really serious about this. By the way, where's Kyle?"

"Oh, he's with Charles, Tasuki and Lester on the front."

"Lester?"

Chelsea shrugged. "You don't know him?"

"Is he cute?" Chelsea and I rolled our eyes heavenward. She tittered. "I need a drink."

"Oh, everybody knows we don't serve alcohol here, honey."

"Boring!" She hissed. She pulled me as she stood up.

"Where are you guys going?"

"My butt is hurting."

"You just came--"Chelsea scoffed. "Okay, I'm going with you."

"What about Kyle?"

"Oh come on, he's not a baby."

Outside, the music changed to the soulful sound of vibrating strings. People were watching the performance below. There was this feeling like there was water in my ears, swallowing hard helped. Must be the lagging difference of sound perception inside the concert hall and here outside. A waiter came carrying a tray of juggling drinks. Chelsea took a glass.

We went to the museum-like part of the building. There was an art-exhibition going on. From the art club? The atmosphere in here was quiet and mostly couples, group of boys debating their interpretations, and art-loving individuals. There was a small group of men (in forties or fifties) discussing with a student. They were praising him.

"A freshman. I've seen him before and had no idea he's a man of art." Chelsea said. "I guess you'll never know a talented man just by looking. You need to know the pathways of the puzzle in his mind to understand the world he's living. Geniuses sure live in a clandestine world."

"Can we speak informally?" Chloe suggested.

The painting was a dirty gray and white, illustrating an old man sitting with his head and one arm resting in a ragged wood box. Opened palm. On his feet was an empty can. Maybe the man is a beggar or maybe dead. The painting was giving a somber feeling due to its dull, dark color, broken houses, dilapidated buildings, dark heavy clouds with flashes of lightning and drops of rain. On the bottom part of the picture was a burnt book swimming in red mud. Just the words '...only him...' could be read.

Atheistic, political in nature, war, education or economy as they construed, but for me, it was a picture of what you see outside the orphanage. The desolated Region 56. The more I thought about the orphanage, the longer I could keep my eyes off the painting.

There were others beautifully made that could not be left ignored. I couldn't believe students of my age drew this. What took my interest was the painting of a big old tree. No leaves, no flowers. It seemed dead with snow on its feet and grey clouds above its head.

The feelings of nostalgia brought me back to my nightmares. A face I couldn't remember, dress with blood, and that feeling I always had whenever I remember ‘her’. The cold of winter.

A man stood beside me, hands on his pocket, eyes on the painting. Dark brown mussed up casual messy bed head look with bangs almost covering his thick brows, and an aquiline nose with a very prominent bridge-- he was the guy who saved my butt once.

It was during the last days of summer, I recalled. Three boys were heckling me; one clutching me from behind, one stuffing fist-sized marshmallows in my mouth while the other was trying to unbutton my uniform. Yes, boys like these existed in school. I was wildly screaming my lungs out, but the gooey pile didn't help-- it was choking me to death. My crying only made it worse, it made me hard to swallow and scream for help. He then came splashing us with two cans of soda. He was like Father Emmanuel sprinkling holy water that time. He said he was sleeping and we disturbed him. The boys walked away booing, then he threw the empty cans to me as he flee. It was a sticky memory.

"Soul of Winter." He mumbled. It was the title of the painting, by Hero Nakamura.

My cheeks warmed, gathering some courage to start a conversation and asked hesitantly, "Is this yours?"

I heard silence and embarrassment rushed through me, I suddenly wanted to run-- swiftly. Then his words came out, "Do you like winter?"

I thought hard, reflecting. "Isn't it sad? I’ve always hated winter.  It looked dormant. Life looked still, indwelling and silent." I bit my lip, unsure of what I was saying. "Do you like winter?"

"It's peaceful and quiet. Just by looking at it makes me want to sleep."

I chortled. Suddenly, Ichigo came and blindfolded his eyes. They know each other?

The guy gripped her hands, and said "Nicholas."

Ichigo's arms extended into an embrace. "I thought for a second you'd call me by my first name, Tasuki."

What? No way! Tasuki?! My cheeks flamed hotter; I wanted to hide this time. I couldn't stop my lips from twitching. With such a nice introduction we had before in his house, I had always thought I would never be able to face him.

Ichigo sniggered when Tasuki brushed her hands. "Tasuki, this is Sam Mizuki." She introduced. My chest suddenly fell to my stomach. "And Sammy, this is our Tasuki Takahara"

It was just a fleeting glance but, it was the first time I saw his face clearly, and the first time our eyes officially met. The last time didn’t count. My knees weakened when we did and realized I couldn't stop myself from staring. His hazel eyes were fiery with dominating flecks of gold.

"Where is that friend of yours you're not telling me about?"

Tasuki turned to face her and looked around, and nodded towards the guy approaching us with Chelsea prancing. Ichigo licked her lips. A muscle on Tasuki's face moved and a thin dimple over his perfect five o'clock shadow appeared when Ichigo turned to see his friend.

The guy was tall with muscles bulking over his well-fitting tuxedo, had clean heavy stubble that added attractiveness to his gleaming smile. Neutral skin, natural brown hair and thick brows that gave more life to his gunmetal eyes. There was no way Ichigo would not fall for this guy, the girls around the room said so.

"Oh, Greek nose." She whispered.

Finally he greeted with his deep manly voice, "Hello."

Chelsea’s pixie hair’s natural wave blew ever so slightly when she looked at me. "Lester Hellewege, this is Sammy, Sam Mizuki." Then shifted to Ichigo, "And this is Chloe Nicholas." Ichigo just stared at him. A tight-lipped smile flashed on his face forming crow's feet around his eyes, bowing his head nimbly.

"Of course, no alcohol.” Tasuki said.

Lester shook his head and laughed. "Too bad. All sweets."

"We can drink somewhere after this." Ichigo proposed.

"Do you drink, Sammy?" Chelsea asked. I whipped my head. All laughed, not Tasuki. "We'll take care of you."

Two teachers called Tasuki. He lightly pushed Ichigo on the curve of her back with his palm. After reading a lot of romantic gestures, that one must be the sweetest. Must be because they had known each other since childhood, or maybe more. Or maybe it was just me. The teachers were smiling when he came, even tapping his back and shaking his hand. Lots of girls glanced over at him, even men. Just what are these people, really? They're not celebrities, are they?

"How'd you know Tasuki?" Ichigo held her voguish nude handbag to her front. She placed her foot in front of the other, pointing at the hunky man. Chelsea saw this and specked her lip.

"Uh, we met in Region 122 six years ago. His grandfather knows my father, they're business partners actually. After I started my own business--"

"Oh, business? What kind?" She asked.

"Scrap metals." Both Ichigo and Chelsea nodded with delight. "Yeah... I eventually met Charles because of him." He hummed, "So, where are you from?"

"I'm from 207."

He inhaled, expanding his chest and said exhaling "Ah, that explains the accent. They said you were a model?" Ichigo rubbed her forehead biting back a grin.

Chelsea cleared her throat and grabbed my arm. "Uhm, Sam and I should probably go and eat."

"Sure, sure." He answered. Ichigo nodded.

"Let's just let them get to know each other." Chelsea prodded to me.

We went to the buffet area. Upon entering, the delicious smell made my stomach grumble riotously as if I had not taken anything for days. My eyes were welcomed with the finest cuts of fresh seafood, meats, nuts and berries, out-of-season fruits and vegetables, caviars, steaming soups, and colorful Hors d'oeuvres.

Chelsea took slice of shrimp and pesto pizza with goat cheese and a slice of chicken breast sprayed with gold paint.

"Is that edible?" I asked.

"Yes, it is." She laughed. "Watch out for calories." She took a spoonful of spinach artichoke dip and matched it with crostini with tomato toppings and some rose apple pies.

I headed for some desserts, which most of them were left untouched. I grabbed chocolate raspberry and black forest meringue cupcakes. Their Sichuan red oil wontons and black vinegar sauce took me to heaven, as well as the roasted sweet potato rounds with guacamole and bacon and that beet salad on sticks. Just by looking at all these foods made me full, but looking at those cakes with sparkling glitters made my tummy turn. Are those even food?

I heard a commotion, then suddenly Chelsea's voice. "Hey! You're doing great."

And a familiar laugh. "We do, Chels. Where are the others?"

Charles's voice immediately pulled me to a realization. I am a girl tonight. Stop slouching.

A girl dressed in a white backless pencil dress studded with small diamonds came to me, grabbing my hand that was holding the blueberry Zucchini smoothie and splashing it onto her face down to her dress accidentally on purpose.

Suddenly, she was screaming blue murder.

Chapter 8: "Alcohol"

 

It was a moment when arguing was up a blind alley and that remaining silent was the best way of protecting yourself. The vertically challenged lady’s friends came and helped her put the blame on me. The usual stack in my high school fairy tale. People in this school just loved making mountains out of molehills. They said I splashed the drink to her on purpose. It was not a big deal, really. It was just a dress and a cold spill of juice.

“Do you even know how much this cost?!” She demanded an answer, contracting muscles on her neck with egregious eyes.

“Thousands.” Her friend with bony cheeks cut in.

How illogical. Who would buy a dress that expensive just for tonight? 

“I bet you stole that dress you’re wearing.” The other one said, crossing her arms with clenched fists. She had this grimace on her face. "Or are you a sly fox in sheep’s clothing?”

“As if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.”

“Your family can’t even replace that old blue truck your poor father drives to block the school gates. Are you saying you can afford to buy me a dress?”

Her words stilled me. Heaviness invaded my chest. Every time those words were used against me, feelings of animosity started seeping in. They don’t know anything. Enjoying myself when Akito just died, I guessed it was karma talking to me. Akito…

“I’m sorry.” Being contrite, I clasped my arm in a reflex, squeezing myself.

Charles came. The ladies rapidly changed their expressions as if they could not believe the president was before them. I thought I saw bony cheeks tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. They were delighted. For me, it was like a horror movie.

“Excuse me ladies.” He grabbed my wrist and all hell broke loose as he pulled me out of the room. Suddenly, everything was in slow motion. The crowd was looking at us, it felt like magic, but with their piercing eyes (one way to burst my bubble of fantasy); I wished time would stay slow.  Nonetheless, this was adding fuel to the fire and the situation was making it worse. Although there was concern in those blue eyes, I was not sure if he was thinking about shorty. Did he believe her? Is he mad at me?

“I’m sorry.” I repeated.

He nodded as if he understood. Only the faint lively music coming from downstairs was helping the momentary silence. He placed both his arms to his back as we waited for Chelsea. With a squeeze, I felt guilty with her cleaning that mess. With many people still looking, scanning me from head to foot, and with the president beside me all I could do was bow down my head and do nothing but repent.

Chelsea’s heels were clicking as she followed us out. “What happened in there?” Chelsea asked.

“I splashed my smoothie… I’m sorry.” I said brave faced, reaching the back of my neck to give myself another squeeze. “Just a faux pas.”

“Be careful next time.” He said.

“The dress didn’t even suit her. I think she only wore that to flaunt her fake boobs.” Chelsea said rolling her eyes.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” One guy said. I saw him with Chelsea before, Kyle maybe? Raven hair and eyes like hers, medium dark skin with a touch of golden yellow undertones, tall and lean. His smile made his eyes disappear. He pulled her close and planted a kiss on her ear, but Chelsea waved him off. The pair exchanged a glance so filled with years of special bond. I glanced up in time to catch the ephemeral expression of envy in Charles’s eyes.

“How was it?” Chelsea asked.

“It was very entertaining. I learned a lot. It felt like I was in grade school being taught on why people using stainless steel chopsticks are smarter and more logical. It was that same feeling when I first learned about that--”

“Is that true? Did he teach you how to use stainless steel chopsticks?” Charles asked innocently.

Kyle stifled a chuckle. “No, no.” He lifted his arm for a high-five then slamming their shoulders like gangsters do their handshakes. “We’re doing great, man.” He then turned to me, saluting. “Nice to finally meet you, Sammy. I have heard a lot about you from our lovely president.” Charles grabbed him and scuffed his head.

“Oh come on, boys.”

“I’ve been looking for you, guys.” Ichigo exclaimed and nudged Charles stomach. “So, where are you up to now?”

“I’m heading to the gymnasium-”

“I’m coming with you, Pres.” Kyle said.

“Ugh, I’m not going in there. Stinky sweats of boys are just a no-no to me. I’m out.”

“High school is all about sports and clubs, you spoiled brat.” Chelsea reproved.

“Are you going with them?” Ichigo asked me but when I was about to answer, she said “No, you’re not. You’re coming with me.”

Charles laughed. “We have girls playin’ too.” Ichigo shook her head no. “The gymnasium is really big.”

“Still, na-ah! There’s nothing to drink here. Shall we go?”

“You can’t win with a stubborn woman.” Both Ichigo and Chelsea hissed to Kyle. “Okay, okay you win.”

“You go with them, VP.” Chelsea gasped when Charles said it. “I have the secretary here.” He said tapping Kyle’s back. “You’re coming with me, right?” Kyle immediately nodded.

Then he looked at me and flashed the most wonderful smile. Warmth radiated in me and from that moment, all the gloom I was feeling faded. “I’ll see you later.”

Both Chelsea and Ichigo teased their elbows to me.

 

“What happened, Sam? You look like death warmed up.” Ichigo whispered as we walk our way out of the building.

I could tell her everything that happened but, as I said it was not a big deal. Besides, I already told Chelsea that it was entirely my fault.

“So, what happened between you and Lester? Do you like him? –I think so, anybody can actually tell. ”

“At first look, I thought he is the kind of guy who is all brawn and no brain.” She sighed. “Am I really that easy to read?”

I lifted both my shoulders and let it fall.

The three of us stepped into the car. Then another black coupe dashed to the front which the driver followed.

“Tasuki looks like he’s in a good mood.” Chelsea said delightedly.

“Really? I can’t tell.”

“I actually didn’t know how to face him when you called his name. I didn’t know your friend is a student here. I thought he’s a college student or someone in his twenties. Although I did see him before in school, I completely had no idea he is that ‘Tasuki’ Tasuki.” I said, catching the driver’s glimpse. Ichigo burst into laughter.

“Have you ever heard about the guy who topped all the high school entrance exams he took? Or the student who won the Regional Annual Competition twice? It was him. Charles’s grandfather is very proud of him.”

“It was my second time to see him at school.”

“Well…that’s because he thinks he is better than the teachers. He keeps ditching classes or sleeps during lectures, but when the teacher asks him, he always answers correctly. He is my classmate and I always find it amusing when he does the lecture as his punishment.” Chelsea smiled.

“He may be smart but his attendance is bad.”

“What’s he doing these days? He looks very tired with all bags under his eyes. He didn’t even shave.”

“I think he likes you, Ichigo.” I caught the driver’s eyes again. Odd and a little creepy.

“What? Me?” The corners of Ichigo’s mouth spread further. “I wish! I’ve known him for a long time and I actually liked him since the beginning… but I gave up already. He just won’t see me that way. He thinks of me as his sister. There’s a world of difference between us. For an eighteen, he’s very far. I mean, in his eyes I’m still a kid.”

“Eighteen and he thinks you’re a kid? Is he third year?”

“No, second year. Well… Charles is nineteen and a second year. We’re the youngest here.” She winked.

“Uh, okay? Why does age matter here?” Chelsea’s voice rose ever so slightly at the end.

“Actually, Chels is twenty-five.”

“No, I’m not! I’m seventeen!”

 

I guessed this was how girls talk to each other. Talking about boys when they were not around. Helen and I were the only girls in the orphanage back then. If only Helen liked me as her friend…

“I forgot we have a beginner here.”

“And her brother is a police.”

Now that I think about, is it okay for me to drink? Akira was grieving right now. Guilt suddenly surged through me. Not that I forgot about Akito. Is this really what I’m good at—run away? Helen might be right. I am selfish. And it is becoming prominent to a disgusting level.

 What is Akira doing right now? Is he okay?

 

The place was filled with mellow ambiance of blue, violet and yellow rebelled with loud music. Tables were glowing-cobalt like the back bar with amazing numbers of liquor bottles flauntingly displayed and sparkling stemwares hanging fitted overhead.

Tasuki headed straight to the glowing-mauve front bar and waited for the young man serving a couple to see him. We found ourselves a place; two tables from the corner right next to a small group of youngsters who were laughing and seemed having fun. In a few, the young man in bowtie finally came to him. He was smiling and nodding while Tasuki was talking to him.

I sat between the gals, and Lester made himself comfortable in front of Ichigo.

“I guess, we’re too early?” Chelsea asked.

“The bar clock moves twice as fast from midnight to last call.” Ichigo remarked.

A waiter came flashing a smile, looking at us one face after another. “What can I get for you?”

“What do you like to drink guys?” Lester asked.

“Anything that says we just want to get drunk. Everclear and mountain dew? LIIT?”

Chelsea scrunched her face. “Captain Jack Sparrow will do as an entry point for our new drinker.”

“And Bloody Mary for me, please?” Ichigo added.

I pursed my lips into a thin line, thinking about how much money did I have with me and that drinking should probably be the last thing in my list right now.

“Nice choice.” Lester told Ichigo. “They say the drink you order tells a lot about you.”

“So what does Bloody Mary say about me?” She asked coyly.

“I don’t know, I’m not behind the bar. But I do think a woman with that on her hand is sexy.”

“Really… so how many girls have you seen ‘sexy’?”

“Hmm, I only remember my mother.”

“You think your mother is sexy?”

“She’s in her fifties, and yup I still think she does.”

“So you think I’m old and still sexy?”  Chelsea and I were struggling not to laugh.

Lester burst into a hearty laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Should I order one too?” Chelsea joked. Ichigo glared at her making a funny face.

Tasuki called Lester and so he went to the stools beside him. We couldn’t hear them talking, but Lester and bowtie were smiling and laughing. The man in the bar placed a glass with funny bulbous bottom part on the table and poured a faint clear green liquid, after that he put a spoon with slits on top of the glass. Lester took something from the bowl next to it and placed it on the spoon. A brown cube (Sugar, maybe?). Finally, the man slowly poured water from a dripping cold pitcher over the sugar. The liquid in glass slowly turned cloudy and forming a distinct line between the clouding and a vivid line of clear and intensely green liquid on top. It was fun to watch. Lester stirred it lightly with the spoon and happily pulled the glass to his lips, tasting and feeling it sip by sip.

It felt like I tasted it myself—that I saw green fairies dusting their wonders in front of me.

The order came. Ichigo opened the bottles, placed ices in a glass, and poured the liquids.

“Here. Have a taste.”

I pulled the glass to my mouth like how Lester did. I snorted the sharp aroma that went straight to my brain; I instinctively asked myself, Can I really drink this? Ichigo must’ve heard the unvoiced qualifier and nodded yes. As soon as the cold tangy liquid touched my tongue and reached my gorge, I choked and almost spewed. I was making the same face whenever I eat Sour Patch. “Bah--Oh God! What is that?”

She giggled. “Four to five parts Captain Morgan, Four-five parts of JD and one part coke—as it should be.”

“I’m not drinking that!” I said holding my breath, grabbing a Honey Rum Spicy Chicken Wing and took a huge bite. “God! I forgot that’s spicy! I need water—“

“Shut it! Drink that or I’ll shove that bottle into your throat!” Ichigo threatened.

I looked at Chelsea with the save-me face, but she just laughed and made herself a drink. I have to go now. Akira must be worried sick right now.

The boys came back. Tasuki sat in front of me. He slid an open can to me and stuck a spoon in it.

“That’s caramelized milk, Sammy. It’s good with Captain Jack, go try it.” Chelsea winked. I took the can and offered her, but she shook her head, “I don’t like sweets, neither Ichigo. Do you?” I nodded. “I think Tasuki gave it to you specifically.” She whispered.

I looked at Tasuki to thank him, but he was busy listening to Lester. He was not even turning a hair.

“Do you drink Martini?” Ichigo asked Lester.

“That’s a ‘Bond’ thing, right?” Lester laughed as if the green thing he drank earlier had no effect at all. “No. I’m actually beer-lover.”

“Well… they say, ‘liquor before beer, you're in the clear. Beer before liquor, you'll never be sicker.’”

“It’s not true… but yeah, I do appreciate beer as last.”

“Beer and sake. And spicy chicken.” Chelsea noted. Lester snapped his fingers agreeing. “But, calories!”

Every time they lifted their glasses for a toast, I was forced to drink. I thought it was always a requisite. After my third, no—fourth big gulps, I started feeling buzzed. With every burning sensation lining my gut and strong aftertaste, I reflexively dug the caramel to my mouth. It was helping, but it didn’t stop my throat from tightening with repulsion and my eyes from squinting.

With few more gulps, I didn’t realize the place was full. Music had become louder. Conversations got louder too. My head was throbbing.

Chelsea and Ichigo were dancing and crooning from their chairs. And my several trips to the toilet were annoying me. My movements somehow slowed.

Tasuki stood up and numerous eyes followed him.

“Where are you going?” Ichigo asked keeping up with the loud music and loud jibber jabbers of people. Tasuki pulled out a cigarette and went somewhere. With him and Lester gone, the wolves started asking Chelsea and Ichigo if they could buy them drinks or get their digits. Where is Lester?

“Oh, I think that guy is cute.”

“You’re slurring.” I said.

“You too. A lot.”

“I’m not.” I chided.

“You’re not speaking in English.”

I was rocking like a boat. I couldn’t see people’s faces clearly. My eyes were crossing. Chelsea asked the waiter to take the empty bottles and ordered something else. It was then that I discovered my glass had a different liquid in it. It was clear and had leaves and lime in it. It was kinda minty. I lost my taste buds, but the funny aftertaste was still there. How many drinks did I have? The waiter took a number of empty small glasses and a plate with untouched limes. My eyes grew, Just when did they order that?

 

A laugh jolted me back to yet another skittish and erratic consciousness. I just wanted to go somewhere and sleep. 

“Are you okay?” Charles’ face popped out.

“Yeah. Are you?” Wait-- what did I just say? Am I really talking to Charles?

I noticed they shifted seats. Charles was sitting next to me. Chelsea and Kyle seemed like they were fighting. Ichigo and Lester were on a quiet conversation. Is that a rose napkin?! These two just met each other and now they were on that level already?

He laughed. “We came late-”

“Yeah.”

“—Kyle and I had a couple of drinks on the way here. Our seniors are celebrating too. It’s a shame to reject their invitations, and I think our VP is not happy about it--”

“Yeah.” The hell with ‘yeah’, but I thought the alcohol was actually helping boost my confidence. It warded off any embarrassment.

“Hey, are you really okay?” I nodded. “Just how many glasses did you have?”

“I don’t know. Four, five?”

“I doubt that.”

“Negroni on the rocks” Chimed the waiter. Kyle raised his hand and took it. “Whiskey, neat and a can of juice.” Charles thanked and tipped him.

“I’m just drinking whatever’s in front of me. I was drinking half the glass, and then in just a few it’s full again.” I admitted.

“Seriously?” I nodded like a child. “You’re funny!” He tittered and took a heavenly sip on his iceless glass. He leaned closer as I craned my neck to hear what he was saying. “Did I tell you already how beautiful you are tonight?”

Did I hear that correctly? Damn the loud music, I must be hearing things.  “Do I have anything to light?”

“What?” He jounced.

“You said ‘do I have anything to light?’”

He snickered then a serious face. “Okay I’m taking this.”

He took the small cup that was sitting in front of me. I thought I have seen a small cup like that one before—where was it again? He lifted the cup with both hands on the base part and allowed Chelsea to fill it for him. Oh yeah… Uncle Natsume. He called that uh… O… Ochoko? He also took the mug --beer, maybe? Sake and beer, right? I think Chelsea said that before.

“Hey that’s mine.” I rebuked.

“I’m drinking yours.” He wiped the mouth of the can, opened and streamed the pineapple juice into a glass. “Drink this.” He beamed. “I said, you look beautiful tonight. You are.”

“Way to go, Pres!” Chelsea extolled.

I thought I heard it correctly this time. Maybe because I had too much already, that I took his words not so seriously. But it didn’t stop me from smiling like a goon and that I was actually being obvious about it! I hoped he was not drunk.

“Sam, come with me.” Ichigo pulled me up and we zigzagged towards the comfort room. “Why are we gliding?”

 It was crowded with girls retouching their make-ups and lines waiting for an empty cubicle. So I waited on the narrow hallway outside and stared on the spinning floor. Dark light was making it shoddier. I watched the people near their tables bounce their heads and swing their bodies to the loud and lively music. They were like pilchards flapping for water. I closed my eyes swaying back and forth. I opened and two men drew near.

“Hi, are you new here? I’ve never seen you before.” The guy in dark polo said.

“What’s your name?” The other in light polo asked.

“Here,” the guy in dark extended his hand with a glass of liquid. “This is for you.”

I tried to reach it, but another guy swiftly placed himself in the middle. He stretched his arm to the wall, blocking the two men. I struggled to look up and saw two faces of Tasuki right above me.

“Oh your boyfriend?”

“Come on, let’s go.”

Then they were gone. Tasuki took the can of juice, which I completely had no idea was actually in my hand the whole time, and drank it. He handed it back emptied. We were on a stare down and no one was blinking an eye. His chameleon eyes reflected blue-violet. I found myself close enough to touch him. Teary, I shut my eyes and lost the battle. When I opened it, he was gone.

Ichigo finally came out. She scoffed and rubbed lightly the edges of my eyes. “Is the make-up still intact?”

“Yes. You’re still a ‘woman’.” She slurred. We cackled like geese.

When we came back, they were laughing so much. Kyle was the clown.

Kyle stood up and made a funny stunt. “--He was like, ‘what the fuck?’ People were twisting on their seats at my ridiculous oversimplification. He just didn’t get it.” Then he slumped beside Chelsea.

“What about you Sam?” Chelsea wobbly pointed me.

“W-what about me?” I stuttered.

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself? I mean, what’s inside ‘Sammy’s Mystery Bubble’?”

“Anything to talk about? Hmm, like middle school?”

Middle school? God, what about middle school? I thought hard. Nothing.  Maybe because I was intoxicated. Why can’t I remember anything? It was like there was a pass-over between my memories of the orphanage and the present.

I must not put my cards on the table. I was afraid I might say something stupid. If I couldn’t control my actions, what more with my words? These people did not know I was an orphan, and had this stupid amnesia and weird dreams. If these dreams were really my memories, then I should’ve been dead for a long time, but here I was. I don’t even know why I am here. In front of them. And in this world. I should carry on with my false pretences and lead them up a garden path. Gosh, the alcohol was making me too emotional. Make them hear what they want and what is obvious.

“Sam?”

“Right. Uh… uhmm… I’ve always been a loner. I mean, I’m not good at socializing. Just home, school, home. I never really cared about hanging out or play games... I’m uh--” I stammered.

“You have your own world.”

“Yeah… Ha-ha, with my dad and my brother always not at home… I spent almost entirely my life alone.”

“Speak in English!” Chelsea yowled.

“What do you do when you’re alone?” Kyle snickered. “That didn’t sound right.”

Running away from my past. Hiding myself, covering my ears from the voices I hear.  Writing something in my journal. My journal?! Dr. Khan gave me this thick notebook, like a diary. I wrote every detail of my life as Sam Mizuki there… Why did I stop writing? I gave it back to her, why did I do that?

“Watching TV?”

“Y-yeah. Sleep, watch TV. Anything you do when you’re alone.”

“That’s why you isolate yourself.”

“There’s a huge difference between you guys and me. I’m sorry for being born without a silverspoon in my mouth.”

“Ooh! Such a pessimist!”

“That’s stereotyping. It’s like saying we only buy everything expensive and living high off the hog. That we live in an ivory tower… Truth is, we’re all pikers and skinflints. We also experience the seamy sides of life. The difference is, you know how to enjoy the deep, and you’ve been there, so you know what’s the feeling down there.  While us…” He fumbled for the word, snapping his fingers. “Ichigo what do you call that again? Charm--?

“What the— you mean poise?” She sniggered covering her mouth. Lester and Chelsea were shaking their heads.

“Yes, poise! We go down with poise. We’re actors; we know how to keep up appearances. But we don’t acknowledge the Murphy’s Law. We avoid errors because we are afraid. Down there is the end of us. You know, living is like drinking.—“

“Get outta here!”

“--It’s not about the brand and how expensive it is, it’s about the alcohol. That’s why people drink, it breaks all the barriers. It’s about companionship and enjoyment.” He stood up and offered a toast. “Let’s just get drunk, people!” Tables near us and some people who heard him said, “Yeah!” and “Woo-hoo!” in unison.

 “He’s always like that when he’s drunk.” Ichigo said.

“Nice speech!”

I looked at Charles and stared at him for a while. He was laughing genuinely. The familiar fire suddenly sparked and burned like wildfire inside me. He cocked his head and accidentally caught me drooling. The wide bright smile on his face faltered, and suddenly we were eye to eye. It seemed like the loud music stopped. Out of the blue, it was all quiet and all I heard was… “Come with me.”

The green fairies must still be working their magic for me.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 12.05.2015

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