Act 2 - Part 8-3: Intoxication
“’Ey, Hisao.”
“What is it, Akira?”
“’m sorry you have to see me like this.”
“Huh? I don’t mind one bit. It was kind of fun getting to know... a different side of you.” I reply.
She gives me an idle chuckle before answering with “maybe one day I’ll get to know a few things about you.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean you ask a lotta questions, and don’ really open yourself up for the same treatment.” she answers.
Yeah, that's always been a problem of mine. I've always refused to open myself up to any of my classmates and even my own friends. I couldn't even force myself to do an introduction on the first day of school.
“I tend to get carried away with the questions, yeah...”
It's my problem, not a problem of anyone else. If I want to open up to someone, it has to be of my own will; there isn't a single person who is just going to waltz up and ask to know everything about me.
I squeeze the words “Is there anything you want to know?” out of my throat, knowing full well what's going to come first.
She mulls the statement over for a while, eyes staring dead ahead and she no doubt tries to think of what she wants to ask. She's unable to keep her head still, however, as her hair constantly brushes against my shoulder and even my cheek.
It smells nice, something I can't say about her breath.
“Well, I’ll get to the point. I can’t help but get a lil’ curious; sho, what’sh your problem?”
“My problem?”
“Y’know... Why’re you here?”
Called it.
“Well it’s, uh... I don’t really like talking about it.”
“Oh c’mon now, it’sh not like it’s a problem with your tackle or anything, right?”
“What?! No, it’s my heart!” I respond on impulse.
I'm getting a real bad case of déjà vu, for some reason.
She thinks for a bit before asking “got a broken heart, do ya?” followed by a few self-amused chuckles.
“Not quite. It’s something called arrhythmia; basically, my heart doesn’t work the way it should. It beats at weird intervals, freezes up every now and then, that sort of thing.”
“Ah, that sounds rough.” she answers.
“I only got it... Well, no, that’s wrong. I found out about it earlier this year, during a little incident.”
It’s something I’ve always had. Like a ticking time bomb thrown right into my chest from the get-go. Even the doctors weren’t sure why it hasn’t been an issue until now.
“It changed everything, really. I used to play soccer, but I can’t do any running around anymore. I used to have a lot of friends, but I lost contact with them during my stay in the hospital. I loved wandering the city I lived in, but I’ve been so locked up that even that’s gotten away from me; until tonight, anyway.”
“Lost contact with erryone? How long were you in the hospital for?”
Feels weird being on the answering side, for once.
“Four months.”
“Jeeeeeez. Longest I ever been in was a few nightsh, and that was o’er a broken nose.”
“What’s the story behind that?”
“Ah, ah, ah. You first.” she counters.
Argh, that was a nice save on her part.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Do you wan’ to tell it? You seem like you got a lotta stress pent up over this heart thing; wasn’t it you who said it’s nice to ’ave someone to vent to?”
An even deeper, exhausted sigh escapes my lips.
“It’s not a story worth telling, in my honest opinion.” I reply.
“Maybe not,” she concedes, “but I still want to hear it.”
Not worth hearing, and yet she still wants to hear it?
“Alright, where do I even start..."
“It was winter, back in February. I’d gotten a letter calling me out to a clearing in the woods by a girl in my class.”
A dark-haired girl named Iwanako. The sight of the white scenery. The sounds of the winter breeze rattling the branches overhead. I can remember it like it happened yesterday. The sights, sounds, and sensations of that time are going to follow me to my grave.
“I'd found it that morning in my locker. At first I thought it was a joke, so I went out to play along and get a laugh or two out of it. At least, that's how it was until a girl actually showed up.”
That dark hair swaying in the wind, those soft eyes gazing at me, her form shaking with anxiety against the winter air. It’s all clear in my memory, like a photograph taken on a professional camera.
“My heart started beating; you know any guy gets nervous in a situation like that. Well, it turns out situations like that are the worst thing for people like me.”
The thumping of my heart against my sternum; like a caged animal trying to get out of confinement.
“She confessed, the nerves got to me, and I had a heart attack. That’s all there is to say about it.”
Screaming, panic, gasping. My sight overwhelmed by the color red. That’s the last I remember of it before I woke up at the hospital. I think I was out for a few days, maybe even a week.
“So your heart stopped when a girl told you she liked you?”
It almost sounds humorous, now that I hear it like that.
“Yep.” I answer.
“Life’sh a bitch like that.” she comments with a snort. “What happened with the girl?”
“She visited me in the hospital for a while. That’s the thing, though; it was only ‘for a while’. She held out for longer than my ‘friends,’ but eventually she just stopped showing up.” I answer, not even hiding the bitterness in my tone.
Akira’s eyes shut as she enters thought again, no doubt trying to think of the appropriate response.
“Did you like her back?”
I want to say ‘yes’ to that question, but with all the thinking I’ve done over the past few months; that would be selling myself short. I had feelings for her because of that incident; but I can’t honestly say our relationship would have gotten far -- maybe in another universe where I wasn’t a broken person, but not in this one.
“No. I don’t think I did.”
“Then I think it’sh a lil’ unfair to hold it against her.” she comments.
“I know what you mean.”
As much as I wish I didn’t. It’s easier to cope with things when there’s someone to blame; but I can’t blame anyone for this. It’s the way things are, and all I can do is ‘deal with it,’ in the words of my surgeon.
“I guess you got a broken heart both ways, huh?” she comments, an amused smile on her face.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“C’mon. Smile. You gotta laugh to keep from cryin’, y’know?”
You have to laugh to keep from crying? I wonder which part of her that’s coming from; the drunken mask that can’t help but laugh because of all the alcohol, the adult part that has to put on a happy face for the younger generation to look up to, or is it the actual Akira speaking from her own experience?
Before the conversation can continue, we wind up in front of a lavish, multi-storied, tan brick building with a large sign reading ‘Nook Condominium.’
“Ah, ‘ere we go.”
“You live here?”
“Yep. Home shweet home,” she answers.
A condo? How much money does she make?!
We cross the empty road and step in through the revolving door, into a lobby populated only by a trio of men in business suits. All three of them are bald and wearing sunglasses, despite it being one in the morning.
I can feel their gazes watching my every step, waiting for a chance to take a taser to me or tackle me to the ground. Akira, however, doesn’t flinch in even the slightest; she even greets them by name.
“Evenin’ Jack, Kaneda, Nicol.”
The three of them return her greeting with a crisp “Good evening, Ms. Satou.” all in unison. Not a single part of their bodies save for the jaw moves to do this, their eyes straight forward as if frozen in place by duty.
“Are you gonna be alright from here?” I ask as we make it to the other end of the lobby, Akira’s free arm reaching over and keying a password into the elevator panel.
“Yeah, I should be good. ‘n what about you?”
“Oh, I’ll just catch the...”
The buses stopped running at least three hours ago.
“Well, no, I think a taxi would be better at this...”
All my money went towards our little wager.
“Nah, I think I can crash in a hotel for the...”
Once again, economic situation in crisis.
“...Know any good bridges I could sleep under?”
Akira lets out a hearty laugh, having to grip her side to stay stable.
“I got a couch you can sleep on. C’mon up.”
“Ah, you don’t have t-“
“A gentleman eshcorted me home. It wouldn’ be fair if I let him sleep in a ditch.”
“No, really, don’t worry about m-“
She turns and places one finger over my lips, staring at me in a steel-faced stupor until she’s convinced that I won’t offer up any more objections.
The elevator soon arrives and Akira makes a feeble attempt to drag me inside, one arm locked with mine to ensure that I don’t try to escape.
Part of me wants to speculate as to why she’d want me in her apartment so much, but something like that would be downright improper. It’s easier to assume that she feels genuinely indebted, and she hates having debts floating around. I don’t think there’s much to repay for a guy being a gentleman, but I suppose anything is too much for her.
“Oh, and Hisao, about earlier...”
“Hm?”
“We've all gone through shitty timesh, it's how the world works. All we can do is work through it and hope we come out as better people.” she comments. “Of course, you've prolly heard that one a million times.” she adds on with a chuckle.
With that said, not another word is spoken until the elevator reaches its destination. A quiet ding rings out through the small cubicle before the silver doors open, welcoming us into the world of Akira's penthouse.
They say a person's home tells a lot about them, so I guess the best words to describe Akira in this instance are 'modern' and 'low-maintenance.' Hardwood floors, a couple of landscape paintings, and lighting provided by a single ceiling fan. The first room right out of the elevator is rather large, containing a widescreen TV with a long sofa, a recliner, and a coffee table in accompaniment.
The view is the most impressive thing, however. The entire opposite wall is composed of a window spanning corner to corner. From here, you can see almost the entire city; the flashing lights, the neon signs, the headlights pacing their way up and down the roads, everything.
“Liking the view?” Akira asks with a confident grin.
“It’s amazing, I’m not gonna lie.” I answer.
“Runs me a good bit o’ money erry month, but it’s worth it.”
“Make yourself at home.” she adds on before removing her arm from mine and stepping off to another part of the penthouse, her hand guiding along the wall for support.
Well, no point in being timid about it now that I’m here.
I take a few steps into what must be the living room and plop down on the sofa.
For some reason, I get the feeling that this place is well cared-for, since I can't spot a single scratch, scrape, or scoff on anything in the room, not even on the polished wood floors. The coffee table looks as though it were brand new, despite a label on one of the legs indicating that it at least four years old.
Granted, there's not much to care for, since there's no other furniture in the room except for a few bookcases loaded with textbooks, binders, and movies. But still, I get the feeling that she carries a lot of pride in keeping this place cleaned up.
It’s a few minutes before Akira returns, but in time she comes back with a blanket and a few pillows, having to struggle to hold her balance as she half-delivers, half-throws them at me.
“Awright, I think you’re set.” she comments.
“Yeah, this is great. Thanks for, uh, letting me crash here for the night.”
“Don’ worry ‘bout it. No one else livesh here, so don’ be shy or anything.”
The dark bags under her eyes have become even more prominent, showing off how fatigued she has to be from today. She seems to be feeling it as well, as she gives me a nod and makes her way back to what must be the bedroom.
“’Night, Hishao.” she calls back.
“Good night, Akira.”
...
Well, I can understand the exhaustion at this point, because that was one hell of a day. Hard to believe that I woke up at seven this morning to go to class; and yet here I am sleeping over at a girl's house at an hour past midnight.
This entire month has been a trip, for the most part. New school, new living arrangement, new people, a manly picnic on the school roof, a science symposium, and multiple meetings with the woman in the other room.
Akira.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again; that woman is something else.
There’s not just something about her; everything about her is appealing.
Her personality and how she comes off as a person. Just someone trying to get everything sorted out and wants nothing more than a life of stability; that's a dream I can get behind with just as much fervor.
Then there's the sense of humor, and the fact that she doesn't take anything very seriously. It might just have to do with four months in the hospital surrounded by doctors and life-threatening complications, but all I want at this point is for everything to calm down. It's been way too long since I've had a day where I could just laugh and take it easy, and Akira creates the kind of setting where that's possible.
And on top of all that, well... I'd be lying if I said she wasn't beautiful. The images of her figure and the feeling of her arm slung around my shoulder is more than likely going to pop up in my dreams during the nights to come. It's not a beauty like her sister's, though, where there's always this pressure not to do something stupid. It's more of an 'easy on the eyes' beauty; the kind of face you wouldn't mind waking up t-
I'm rambling again.
Anyway, I'm starting to find myself thinking of these things more and more, every day. The same thoughts of the blonde girl in the other room skipping through my head, the same daydreams about talking on that park bench and meeting in the Shanghai...
Hell, if every day could be like today, then I think my life could finally take a turn for the better. No more depressed nonsense, no more endless thinking; I’d always be busy. Maybe that's the appeal of companionship; there's always someone there. That's a quality I've come to appreciate after months of staring up at the ceiling or into the contents of books.
The hurdles I’d have to hop over are still quite intimidating, however -- the age difference, the fact that she already has a boyfriend, her professional life, and plenty of other factors.
But you know, this is the first time I've truly felt this way about someone. Maybe the challenge just makes it that much more appealing.
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) But keep your head up, you've rounded the first lap, now's not the time to go back and fix it, but now is the time to press forward to keep at this race. I'm loving what your doing so far, and it seems like its only going to get better. Take this is a boost of confidence, that me, and I guarantee despite the criticism so far, many others are eagerly waiting for your next release. Godspeed!