Interlude: kjærlighet
I lost track of time just by staring blankly into space. All I saw was the dust sifting through the half-curtained window that gave the library a rather gloomy atmosphere. I loved it there. The gloom interior and the relentless ray of light outside seemed to complement each other. This was what I loved about being tasked with library work. The place was almost deserted on the weekend. The perfect time to be lost in thoughts.
On the table, a book lay. I borrowed it from the nearest rack. Its cover was actually white but with how the light quality gave the interior of the library a rather sepia glow, it, too, affected the colour of the book.
The title of the book was White Wolf's Journey. I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. This was the book that I immensely enjoyed when I was a kid. It felt like ages ago. Well, it really was ages ago. University life was slowly creeping in on me. Living alone was liberating. But freedom does not mean happiness.
Was I unhappy? That felt so personal to answer. The few friends I had worth contacting felt light-years away. Guess the whole 'let the bridge rot for all I care' attitude started to take its toll on me. Most of their faces were becoming just a blur to me. It felt like they were from a land far away from me.
I heard the door open. It was just the librarian. It weird that this school had a librarian but gave overseeing tasks to their students. When I had asked her--the librarian--about it, she said that it's part of the school's way of instilling discipline and a sense of responsibility to their students. I quietly sneered at this.
"Thanks for filling in for me. And it's the weekend of all days," she said. She almost scrambled trying to take her place beside me. Her being here meant that my shift was coming to a close.
Not that I mind being here. After all, all that was waiting for me was an empty apartment. I could contact some of my friends to hang out but that would be an unnecessary expense of my energy. I could not be bothered. You see, when you're generally listless, everything is boring.
I took my handbag from the rack behind us and gathered some of my things scattered across the table. 'Maybe a makeup retouch wouldn't hurt.'
As I was about to leave, I noticed the book was still lying there. I didn't know what impulse made me borrow it, but there it was, occupying spaces inside my bag.
The hallway was bright despite the stark colour they had chosen to paint the exterior with. At times I often wonder why the facade of this building was colourful only to find that that vivacity faded away as you go deeper into the bowels of this building. Only the golden ray of the sun gave it a rather uplifting vibe. Normally, I would think about traversing these halls but it being a weekend, it was really really quiet. And that soothed my mind.
After retouching, I exited the winding stair of the university. The world that usually looked like it was tinted with sepia was now devoid of it. That made everything look paler. My eyes never approved of the vernal sun. It was almost as blinding as the summer one. But all I had to blame was my failing eyesight. The books I had been reading took a rather hard toll on me.
When I had exited the main gate, I immediately flagged down a taxi and took it all the way home. I said home but it was just a meager apartment somewhere around town.
I chose not to absorb the surroundings this time. To be honest, if I could etch the views I see every day in a paper of sorts, I would not fail in that regard. The mundane was starting to erode every last vestige of warmth left in me.
I was not a good person, to begin with. Though most of my colleagues painted me as one. That in itself was something to wonder about for me. I felt a hollowness in my diaphragm. It took me effort to not clench on it lest the driver would think I was having a spell or something. The additional attention did not sit in with me.
The sun was beating down on us while the wind showed signs of the past winter. I wonder: did I also appear that way? Did I resemble the sun in its warmth, only to recoil once I opened up because of the inherent coldness inside me? I didn't know.
In no time I got off from the taxi once I reached the apartment. I closed the door behind me and leaned it as I reactivated my senses. Once again, solitude. The floor was cold on my butt despite the long skirt. But I could not gather the extra push to pull myself up and at least drop half-dead on my bed.
At least the past version of me decided to clean the small apartment. There was nothing left for me to do but to force myself to my bed.
Once the sheets gave way to my weight which wasn't much, I scrambled to reach for my bag. From it, I pulled the book.
White Wolf's Journey.
"Guess it doesn't hurt to do some reading," I whispered half to myself, half to no one in particular. I should really stop this habit of talking to myself.
The word gained traction after I reread the second paragraph the second time. After that, it started to lose some meaning. I couldn't even form a proper mental image of the things behind portrayed in the book. All I knew was that slowly, I descended into a hollow nap.
***
The mild caress of the wind coming from the window I had left open woke me up. Disoriented, I tried to look for some things to base my time on. Naturally, my phone was the first thing that I'd grab but remembering that I had not taken it out of my bag made me forget the whole thing. Too much effort. I just looked at the window. The sunlight was still golden so probably, it's still the early afternoon. 2 PM maybe?
I rose, letting the book fall on the mattress of my bed.
After that nap, I felt more tired than before. It was kinda odd to feel that way but exhaustion was catching up on me.
"This is what you get for all those times you chose to run away yourself."
I felt hungry. The grumbling in my belly reminded me that I hadn't had any meal for the day. What meager sustenance I had was a cup of coffee from a local coffee shop. Not to boast but I was a better barista than they were.
I stood up and let the dizziness settle in as someone lowkey pushed me to the side. I almost fell to the bed but giving my left leg the centre of gravity prevented it from happening.
"Now, I just need a shower and I'll probably go procure dinner." I laughed at myself for making an Adashima reference without anyone to hear it.
But before I was able to get a change of clothes, my phone rang. There were a handful of occasions in which it rang: One is when mum was checking on me, and two…
His name was registered on the screen. I never saved any photos to be used as a profile picture for his number so it's just the call icon beating to the time of the ringtone.
I picked it up. "Hello?"
"I know you're doing practically nothing right now. Meet me at the station."
I felt somewhat irritated with his choice of tone. And I didn't hesitate to show it. "What are you, my mother?"
"I'm trying to buy meds for my sister. I know absolutely nothing about it. I need your help." His voice was almost devoid of emotion, as though he was saying things in a matter-of-factly manner.
But once I heard something about her sister, I felt my ears pricked up. "How long are you expecting to wait? Or is it better if you just fetch me here?"
"What are you? My girlfriend?"
That pissed me off all the more. This guy had no tact whatsoever. In the past, he would sometimes get himself in trouble because of how nasty he spoke. Well, okay, nasty is a bit much but if he could just cut some honesty from the way he spoke, he'd be more grateful.
"Just come here, okay? The station is just a stone's throw away from here. What's the big deal? I'd just take a quick shower and go with you" If I learned something upon dealing with him, you'd just have to match his stubbornness. It worked most of the time. I said most of the time but whenever he felt like it, he'd completely ignore me and go his way.
With that, I ended the call. In retrospect, I wondered how we could end up having those sorts of communication? We were inherently quiet people. He was quieter than I was but every time he'd call, in one way or another, we would have conversations as caustic as that one.
I never gave a second look at my phone when I placed it back down and went straight to shower. If he ever called again, I'd show him who's boss.
***
There was a knock on the door. Good thing I was done blow drying my hair. I opened the door to see him there. He looked as if he was glowing because of the sun behind him. You see, my apartment faced the west. It took me a while to adjust my eyes and when I did, I saw his eyes boring on me.
"You don't really waste time, do you?"
"I'll treat you to pizza after this."
"But we just had pizza the other day."
And without any warning, he forced his way inside my home, removed his shoes, and went straight to where my bag was. His trail seemed to produce stardust as he brushed past me; you know, that same dust that you see while looking at a ray of light passing through your window. I could not stop thinking that he was an agent of the Tyndall effect himself.
He took my bag and looked like he was weighing it with his senses.
"What are you doing?"
"For someone whose thoughts are always flying, you bring a heavy bag with you."
I didn't know how those two connected or what logic he used to come up to that conclusion, but nevertheless, I dashed towards him and snatched the bag away. "Shut up! Let's go."
I didn't even notice that the boredom that I had felt earlier vanished after I took a bath. It was a refreshing change of pace. The illusion of control--no matter how small it might seem--was more evident once you take hold of menial things that once took your schedule.
We were walking down towards the downtown mall that was literally a walking distance from my house. Even so, I wondered what took him a considerable amount of time to get to my place. Was he giving me time for myself? Despite his caustic remarks and aloof personality, he could be conscientious to a fault. He hated the wrong and upheld the right. At some point, we were the same. Though I could get emotional at times, he functioned according to logic.
Once we were done purchasing the meds that he needed for his sister, we headed to a pizza parlour to satisfy his craving. We occupied a table near the glass wall through which one could see people walking about.
If any of our classmates saw us, I knew some rumours would start flying along with next thing in the morning the next day. University students never really graduated from the gossip and all that it implied. But did I care? No. Would he care? Again, no.
As we waited for our food, my mind started to wander. And wander it did. I thought: 'this guy knows a lot of things.' It's possible that he also knew the name of the medicine he had asked me to look for. Then, why did he even bother asking for help?
I needed to prod him. "Hey, Matt."
He was checking something on his phone when I called him. Talk about rudeness. His reply was just a questioning moan.
But then again, I knew that I would not get any answer from me. At the very least, he'd just throw a dubious look at my direction for asking. You could never be too careful with this guy. "Nothing." And the noise of the city once again permeated through the glass window.
He placed his phone down and leaned against his chair. "I was sending emails to my sister. I left her home."
There was a throbbing in my stomach. "You left your sister home while she's sick? How could you be irresponsible?"
"Reika…" The way he pronounced my name had a nostalgic feel to it. To which part of my past it brought me, I didn't know. "Do you think I would do something irresponsible? What do you take me for?"
Ah, I finally understood. He sounded like my late father. Not that I was starving for a fatherly love; it's far from it. Let's just say hearing something so familiar is like finding a dear friend when you're all alone attending a party. Then, I realised how lost I really was. And I hated it.
I sighed. "So how was Althea?"
He looked outside. His countenance was probably one of the comeliest I've ever seen. A lot of my so-called friends were head over heels over him. That part I could understand. But what I prided myself over him was the depth of our understanding of each other.
"She finally made a friend." His tone was flat. He wasn't even smiling. If you were caught off guard, chances are you might think that he didn't want the topic to be pushed through.
However, for the first time in weeks, I could sense that he was happy. Excited even. Was it about the prospect of his sister making her first friend? I didn't know. But if he was happy, I would be happy, too.
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The Morning After: A BONUS CONTEMPLATION
How many days had it been since we both transferred to this apartment? I don't know. I lost count. But if I ask her, I would get an exact answer. But it felt like it had been months. The apartment mom had recommended to us really felt like a home away from home. Not that I was missing my parents' house but I think the feeling of being home is the important aspect of moving on. Of moving forward.
Dad passed away a year ago. I still miss the old man but I guess kids are cursed to bury their dead. My girlfriend has been there beside me in those dark times. She never said a word. But I could feel her patting my back every time I felt like crying. And that was almost all of the time. I am such a crybaby. Nothing has changed. And I guess nothing would.
They said that the ghost of the past lingered still. And my girlfriend has a fair share of those. But every time I wake up in the middle of the night, I hear no footsteps. It might be because, during the years of her hiatus, she already vanquished those before returning to us. I remembered her big sis embraced her hard that day she went back to us.
But that made me wonder, could she still hear the footsteps through the hall? Or has she already gone deaf to the heartbeat of the monster she buried on the floorboard? I didn't know. And she wouldn't even tell me half of it. Not that I really mind. Really. People have their ways of showing you they love you. If burying the past to entertain the present is her way of coping up, I'd just wait for her. That's how I would show her I love her.
She stayed cocooned with the blanket that had been ours last night. Stupid girl! The blanket was big enough for the two of us but she hoarded it to herself.
"I will have my revenge!" I said, then laughed at myself.
Guess I was tasked with preparing breakfast today. We both were having our day off but I gave that girl the rest she deserved since she hadn't had one in three weeks' time.
"Quit your job then," I remembered telling her that. She just answered with 'why?' like the matter didn't interest her. I hated that she took too much after her sister. At times I thought she was the man of the house and I was the submissive wife. I had no complaint about that. It's just that when it mattered, I wish she'd listen to me. She had always loved so hard to the point that she forgot herself.
"Then, all I have to do is remind her, right?" I said before stretching my upper body before preparing breakfast.
"She bought ham last night so I'm guessing she's looking forward to ham omelet today." Consider it done, my princess.
After cooking breakfast, it's time to dispose of a week's worth of garbage. For a pair of cave-dwellers, we really do generate a lot of waste. Whoever was the culprit is a mystery to me.
"Guess that's the both of us," I whispered.
I just got it over with, greeted some neighbors on my way out, chatted with the landlady who was a dear and made my way back. But when I was about to come in, I heard the door of the neighboring apartment open. So I stopped for a while to spy.
Is it weird that I had talked with a lot of the tenants of this complex but never ones just next door? I find it ironic, to be honest. My girlfriend? Nah. She doesn't care about trivialities like that.
There were two girls on the front door, probably our age. The taller one seemed to be the quieter of them. How could I tell? If you spent most of your time with an introvert, you'd find a pattern that is also visible with other people her type. But my introvert is the weirdest of them all.
"Really sorry about this. But I'd ask the boss next time if I could take the day off the same as yours," said the shorter one of them.
"It's alright. There's still next time."
"Hmmm…"
"What?"
"I am just wondering what I will catch you doing later when I get home." She laughed.
The taller one blushed profusely like she suddenly turned into a tomato. That reminded me of my tomato who was still fast asleep. "P-please forget what you saw."
"How could I?" She prodded on.
The girl who was about to head to work--I just assumed that it's work--kissed the taller one. On the lips.
"Oh." The sound escaped my lips. So, that's the kind of relationship that they have, I thought.
"Bye, Adachi."
Cute.
The other girl went on her way, leaving the taller girl behind. She was about to get inside when she saw me looking at her.
Instinctively, I greeted her with a good morning. She greeted me back before closing the door behind her.
When I got inside, I could hear music coming from the bedroom. Guess she's already awake. I entered the room to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, hugging my pillow. I just guessed it's mine since the pillow on my side of the bed was missing.
"Good morning, sleepyhead." I approached her. She looked like some sort of Medusa with her unkempt hair. Despite wearing glasses, she was scowling. She had not been a morning person ever since.
I patted her hair. "I made ham omelet for us."
She threw the blanket by her side and just wrapped her arms around me. When she was like this, I knew she was relishing the silence with me. And I learned to be quiet with her. If you just listened you'd hear her heart speaking to you. I wondered: was she telling me that the footsteps are gone? I hoped so.
Then, I remembered the couple just next door. I wondered if it's cool if I invited them over here. Besides, we are on the same page on this. But first, I must ask this:
"Hey, would it be cool with you if we make friends with the neighbors?"
"And in what way would it benefit me?" Her voice was muffled from her face being pressed against my tummy.
I sighed in frustration. Knew it. "You should step out of your comfort zone, my dear."
She lifted her face to look at me. She looked like a kitten in that position. If this continues, I might end up liking cats, too. "Are you talking about the girls next door?"
Oh, how perceptive. I nodded. Should I ask her about the mental gymnastics she'd done to arrive at that hypothesis?
She buried her face again on my tummy. "Yeah. You up to it?"
"I'd think about it."
I smiled. That means yes if you speak her language.
The image of those two came back to me. Are they also like this or…?
Who knows. But I think we'd get along.