"If only I can acquire my peaceful rest… This colorless world might as well end me silently."
In the middle of the day like any other.
At the age of 19, Oren Foleur, as she held a document close to her chest, stood on the edge of a rooftop on one of the Otani University's buildings.
"But… How long must I wait?"
The breeze gently brushed her hair, urging her to change her mind.
Alas, her mind was already set into stone.
Amidst the beckoning light, where shadows danced from the radiant sun, Oren's soul was cast onto the platform beneath her, stretching across to the ground below a couple of stories.
Time seemed to bend, as though the world itself held its breath—capturing this poignant moment of serenity. Unlike her future determined self, her past eyes lacked any life, uncaring of the consequences and the cliche blurry future that would soon come.
Her shoes gazed over her bare soles latching onto the concrete. Scared, on whether it would connect forever or get immediately disconnected.
It was her and her alone, who possessed the means to cut the string of her fate.
"Shariputra… form does not differ from emptiness; emptiness does not differ from other forms. Form itself is emptiness, emptiness itself is form, so too, are feeling, cognition, formation, and consciousness. Ya sūnyatā tad rupam~
"In the midst of otherworldly desires and attachments, one comes and goes alone, is born alone and dies alone.
"Sukhavati might not be what awaits me on the other end. Enlightenment won't be the goal I'll grasp in the end.
"But, at the very least, I want to end this lonely, empty life, and be hurriedly reborn in a better vessel and world after life."
She let her arms wave amongst the wind.
Eyes closed as she shielded her rose within.
And let herself go.
But just right after that, a vicious silhouette arrived like an enamored glint. That figure immediately stretched and leaned themselves forward onto the sharp edge of the concrete.
And then grabbed the lost and waning Oren's hand.
Oren couldn't believe what she saw with her neck drawn back as she gazed into the above, especially with the suddennes that had transpired.
A golden air and golden glow, warmth and gentle like a morning hope. That was the image that crystallized in front of her eyes.
"Buddha…?"
The wind grazed back the long front bang of this mysterious fellow, revealing a pair of eyes who sees all of her being.
"Ahaha… I might be aswell." The foreign figure let out a wry laugh, as the tone of his pitch suggested a manlier voice in contrast to his beautiful face. "Uhm, sorry to barge in…?"
Who is this person? How did he get up here? How come that Oren had only seen him now? Questions upon predictions began to smother Oren's emotion slowly into a curled mothball inside. Combined with the vertigo, her mind immediately went into black out.
She instinctively dismissed this as a dream. Maybe the moment she wakes up, she will once again glaze her sight upon the familiar ceilings.
A human will breathe alone or together, even if they just live by doing whatever works, or living by depending on someone else.
Even if their support disappears, they'll continue to breathe.
Then they become dependent on the next thing they found, renewing the cycle all over again.
Something that Oren loathed with all of her heart.
"Urgh…"
But instead of the familiar ceiling, Oren sluggishly opened her eyes to a gold silhouette, casting his shadow over her face amidst the bright rays of the sky.
"Ā, yatto megasameta ka. -Ah, you're finally awake.-" Unlike his early image of impression, the curtain of his overgrown front fringe had already obscured half of his face, leaving only the benevolent smile a human could ever cast. He then glanced over the document that he managed to recover along Oren herself.. "Kizetsu shita nochi mo, anata wa sore o tebanasanakatta. -You didn't let go of that thing even after you fainted.-"
Seeing how she hadn't died yet. Oren placed his wrist on top of her eyes as she sighed in disappointment, and probably a little hint of embarrassment down the line. "Just, speak in english. Your Japanese needs some work…"
Flustered, the gold-haired person tried to regain his pride after hearing Oren's accent.
"Uhm, je m'appelle Occam, et vous ? -Uhm, my name is Occam, how about you?-"
"Oren…" She slowly put his wrist away, revealing her annoyed face. "And don't try to attempt to use that language either." She paused as she cast away her gaze somewhere else. "This is just a fake accent," she said without any kind of accent. "Never ever speak in french again either."
"I-I see. Uhm, I guess it's been a while since I met an English speaker here in Japan."
"Regardless, even with you helping me now. It won't change anything... The roof will always welcome me tomorrow and there's no way you'd be able to stop me every time."
That's right. This was just a fluke, not divine intervention.
Yet, the stranger across from her didn't appear discouraged by her words. Instead, his troubled complexion disappeared entirely as if he understood.
"In the midst of otherworldly desires and attachments, one comes and goes alone, is born alone and dies alone.
"This passage points to the fundamental truth of individuality and solitude in the circle of birth and death. It highlights that despite being surrounded by countless desires, attachments, and relationships—each being ultimately faces birth, death, and the journey of existence alone.
"The inherent solitude and individual responsibility we have in navigating our own path––"
"And that's why, nothing ever mattered," Oren intruded. "I can die now and nothing will ever change, nor will my death mean anything in this world. Throughout my whole life––"
Everything continues to collapse on itself, anything that should have lasted, ripped from her hands. Her batted breathing hastens, her elucidated voice heightening to reach a breaking point yet, that too, crumbled away pathetically.
"I have, and will always be alone."
Oren slumped forward, her head hung upon an invisible rope, tied to a rock in an ocean, beckoning her name at every turn. Strangling, robbing, taking and taking more and more.
Yet still he poked her chin up with that stupid smile.
"Every human is alone, but every loneliness comes with the presence of your best companion, you know?" Occam lightly snickered.
"What do you mean?" She furrowed her eyebrows, perplexed.
Without any warning, Occam gently caressed Oren's ears.
"Sound waves are picked up by the ear, converted into electrical impulses and sent to the brain where they are processed, allowing you to unravel the world in a near spiritual sense.
"But how does this ear function? After all, doing all that work is very exhausting for an organ this size.
"That's where the blood comes into play." Occam then slid away his arm to hold Oren's idle wrist, gently adding a little force onto the blood vessel. "Trillions of them reside in your blood cells, carrying oxygen to keep your selfish body moving. They do that and die after 120 days.
"Of course, we all know that it's our lungs and heart all along that gather this energy as they pump these never wavering workers inside of us, but sometimes we forget that it does not mean they'll rest when we do. Or else, every organ in our body will fail.
"Your tongue that allows you to taste culinary wonders of our civilization, your eyes that let you feast upon the absurdity of our reality." Occam then guided Oren's hand onto his cheek, nearly touching his ever fervent smile. "And your sense of touch, that allows you to confirm everything you ever doubt."
She blinked, stubbornness slipping its grip as his words toiled around in her head. Perhaps it was the shock from an astute reply to her ponders, or the surreal-like situation that she found herself in.
Unconsciously, her cheeks brightened red.
It was also then when Oren realized that she was resting on Occam's lap all along.
"Are we truly alone in this world, when there are our very own physical vessels there with us who tried their best to keep us alive, despite us asking otherwise?" Occam reiterated––
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!"
Before his chin was smacked by Oren's skull.
"Bhwek!??"
Oren launched herself up into the air. Looking left and right, she just realized she had almost killed someone right after she attempted to kill herself.
"AAAAA– are you okay??"
"Ahahah, this is a mere silent concussion in the making. Be worry less, lest you want to waste your worry for this little one's health—"
Blood trickled out from Occam's nose.
"GYAAAAA—"
It took a while for Oren to calm down and treat the suspicious individual's surprisingly minor wound. After things had been orderly assorted, both of them were back to their former awkward position, just that this time, they had switched their roles.
"It's been a while since I got a pillow lap from a beautiful lady."
Oren sighed, still unaware of what she had gotten into. "You should be grateful then." She then shifted her gaze to the side as she quietly muttered, "This is also my first time to have someone on my lap."
"Of course, I'm still prettier!"
Veins seemed to burst from Oren's forehead.
She regretted suggesting this kind of development.
"Argh! As expected, this isn't working at all!"
"Ahaha, maybe we shouldn't be doing this after all."
An awkward smile crept up his face. Oren held back the subconscious instinct to smack him.
"This is wrong!"
And then they switched back their roles, with Occam giving Oren a comfy lap pillow.
"This is right," she said, an exhale of relief escaping her.
"Eh?"
Occam wanted to ask the reason for why this event unfolded, but judging from Oren's pouted face, he wasn't going to get anything even if he tried.
"I noticed that you're not from here." Oren rotated her position to the side, slightly mothballing her arms in front of her breath. "Are you pretending to be a student to attend the seminar?"
"Aish, so you saw me huh."
"You thought that you're so slick, huh, as if your shiny as hell hair was supposed to be a covert—."
"And a gorgeously beautiful face!" Occam pointed his indexes to his bright smile.
"Ugh… Fine! I admit, and a gorgeously beautiful face…"
"Hehehe, you're beautiful too, you know? Too beautiful, in fact, that one will be sure they'd take more than just a second glance when they see you this up close."
"Enough about that! You want to learn something about Buddhism Archeology if you're this set into sneaking inside the seminar, right?!"
"Oh, you want to give me a private lesson here?"
"I will, until the sun is tired from reminding me how lowly I am from that uncaring sky…"
As the private lesson made its progress, Oren found out that Occam was actually one of the foreign actors that was on an overseas trip to shoot a scene somewhere in Tokyo.
This information didn't really faze her, needless to say. Afterall, Oren hadn't really connected herself to the world of living for a long time.
The afternoon friend-to-be began to bond their woeful knowledge over the course of the ticking sun.
It wasn't only knowledge that was shared, but also their personal view, seeds, and various other things to enrich the other's barren heart.
Time went on like a daring beast, but what was felt to be a mere couple of hours from each other's life, was transformed into an ever endearing memory of Oren's life.
It might be the first time where her soulless eyes were filled with colors and warmth.
"The sun really set their end on the horizon, huh."
"You look disappointed, Oren." Occam snickered. "The sun's not leaving forever, you know? Tomorrow and the day after that, it'll come back, every day."
"But the day won't be the same without you, though."
"Oh my, have you been enamored by my charm already?" Occam signed a double peace beside his cat-like smile.
Oren accompanied the playful smile with her own cheeky smirk.
"Maybe. Who knows, you're my first ever student afterall."
"Then I'll make sure to live up to your expectations, Oren-sensei~!"
They shared contacts right after. Oren stared at the newfound numbers within her contact list. It was a foreign feeling, but a welcomed one.
Seeing the glimmers on Oren's wide-open eyes, Occam thought it would be fun to add her social media account. It was to his surprise that Oren didn't have one in the first place.
The face that she showed after Occam taught her how to use social media however, was enough to recharge someone's energy for back-to-back all-nighters.
Occam was even able to hear the near audible "Yippeee!" from his new teacher.
"Can we meet again tomorrow?" Oren asked, rather hesitantly, but she was able to convey her thoughts into words in the end.
"Tomorrow, can't do. Tomorrow after tomorrow however, I can diggery do." He snapped his finger which ended in a thumbs-up right in front of his grin. "I'll treat sensei to somewhere nice, in exchange for this private session!"
"You actually don't have to–"
Before she knew it, Ocaam had already escaped the vicinity like a volley of wind.
"-do that…"
After that event, Oren's barely-present will to live was ignited again and again every time she was exposed to Occam's carefree eyeless face as they met each other while he was still in Tokyo. The rooftops had finally ceased its call.
Oren's life in her former soulless apartment was also accompanied by the thoughts of how eventful it was for her to finally have someone she could call a friend. With some instances of time where she couldn't stop thinking about Occam as she carried on her daily life.
Even when Occam was busy with his work, Oren would be there waiting, sometimes until night time. She was also there when Occam joined a music band for a while until their first album. She was also there when the movie came out a few years later. She was also there at the airport, waving her arm to wish Occam a farewell until their eventual reunion.
She was also there when Occam's family was having a feast for their youngest child's birthday. She was also there when Occam decided to finally tighten up his personal security. She was also there when Occam was moving his house in panic. She was also there when there was a crazy woman who planned to kidnap and take Occam for herself.
She was also there when Occam was sleeping. She was also there when Occam was bathing. She was also there when there were many who did the same as her. She was also there to ensure Occam's safety from all kinds of worldly danger.
Before she knew it, her hands had already been smeared by the blood of many.
"They spoke unspoken things."
Occam's existence was the happiest realization of her life.
"They rode on broken wings."
Her eyes stayed a beautiful pair filled with vibrant light.
"They wrote a symphony with broken bows and broken strings."
Her will is unclouded.
"They harmonized to bring each other simple hope from hymns."
To give everything for her sole source of humanity.
"But a pin that soaked in ink and poked in skin can only sting–"
So even when her wrists were nearly crushed to dust, she would be happy to defy humanity's limit and tighten her grip on the instrument's hilt.
"Like broken bones, broken oaths or broken wings."
To aim the barrel at the blasphemer's head.
"Hmm!??"
And pull the trigger to deliver a violent divine retribution.
It happened in the blink of an eye. Stehno subconsciously loosened her grip as she moved her head out of the way, allowing the mangled hitwoman to slink and break free.
Oren once again guided her broken arms and undaunted gun forward.