Her eyes gazed into his back from above her milkshake. The
booth in which she presides is in the corner, shadows from the late
night sky pouring in from the large, glass windows of the Crown
Arcade. She can't remember how long she'd been sitting there,
watching him. It was the only way she could be near him lately.
He'd pushed her away without reason and she could do nothing more than
than obey. She knew that somewhere in the barriers he'd put up, love
for her for still existed. It was impossible for him to stop loving her
so easily, to stop the emotions that had altered the course of his
life. It had been hard enough for him to accept what how she had made
him feel. That knowledge was what gave her the courage to watch him,
waiting for his heart to overpower that thick skull of his and tell him
that he was only causing more problems.
Motoki had been attempting to talk to him for the past ten
minutes but with no success. Mamoru had done nothing to acknowledge the
fact that Motoki was even there. He just sat there, staring with
sadness into the cold cup of coffee that lay before him. Even in
the haunted lighting of the counter, she could see his face as if
she were looking at him face-to-face. His eyes had dark circles under
them, proving her theories of him not sleeping correct. How much
she wanted to walk over there and comfort him, to tell him it was
okay, but that privilage had been lost to her. He'd taken it away
with a promise of no return.
She looked up into Motoki's eyes. He looked really worried and
she just nodded, knowing that she could not
comfort him when she couldn't comfort herself. 'Why is he doing
this?' The thought had implanted itself into her brain, like a
permanent tattoo. Her fingers left the cool glass of her cup and
gripped the red rose at her side. The thorns cut into her hand and
she dropped it right away. Bringing her hand to her eye level, she
wiped away the few droplets of blood with a napkin and picked up
the rose again. It's petals were in a tight formation as it had yet to
bloom. The tiny paper card was tied to it with a pink ribbon, her
scent sprayed onto it.
She stood and walked over to him. His shoulders tensed and
she knew that he had heard her approach. Her school shoes tapped
against the linoleum floor as each step brought her closer and
closer. She was only a few feet away from him but he refused to
turn. Her hand went to his shoulder and her lips brushed near his
ear.
"I'll be waiting," she whispered softly. The rose lay in
front of him on the counter as she turned around and through the
sliding doors of the arcade. She cast one last look behind her and
ran down the sidewalk toward her home. Her defenses were dropping
with each step she took. The reserve she'd implanted into her mind
was dripping away, along with her sanity. Her front door opened
without the need of a key and she ran up the stairs. Once in her
room, she fell onto her bed, her hands reaching for her pillow.
The tears were forming, but she held them back. 'I can't cry. I
won't cry. He'll realize it soon. He will. He will. He will...'
"He's never going to know!!" she yelled. The tears flooded
down her cheeks, moisteneing the material of her simple school
uniform. She curled into a small ball, the sobs wracking her body.
The flow subsided some after a few minutes. She straightened out
and gazed at her ceiling. An inkling urged her to look at her desk
and she followed it. Rising from the bed, she picked up the small
stack of cards she'd tried to organize earlier. Her fingers tossed
each one aside until she'd found it. The postcard held a picture
of the Tokyo bride on it, the twilight giving it an eerie look.
She'd found her solution.
"Tommorow. Tommorow I'll find my solace."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*