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@insekii
Cause I canât sit oh I cant talk
I gotta leave this town and run to you
curse these nights that speak your name
I gotta leave this town and come to you
break (oh) this (oh) curse (oh)
ha ha ha
break (oh) this (oh) curse (oh)
she barely knew your name
to make up for it
The tea had probably cooled enough by now, and Seto took a small sip. Â It was still pretty hot, and the liquid burned a path down his throat and into his stomach that had him taking a deep breath to cool his mouth. Â He set the cup back down, intending to let it cool for just a little longer. Â The whole time he was smiling, though, and he hoped his host hadnât noticed that heâd pretty much accidentally burned himself.
He listened to him describe his favorite places, cataloging them in his head as he did. Â Heâd walked past the park, though he hadnât seen any ice cream trucks yet, and of course he knew where the library was; the large building was kind of hard to miss. Â But he hadnât been inside either yet.
"I guess that means youâre pretty studious. Â Or maybe, more that you have a quiet personality?" Â After all, all three of those places were peaceful ones, locations perfect for contemplation.
He arranged the cookies inside the box and gently moved it onto the small glass saucer on the side. It's not like he's intentionally showing his nerd side but he did enjoy impulsively organizing things, with the cookies arranged like flowers as a mere victim. Taking one, he tried not too show any signs of panic from having Seto guessed correctly. But does he really know himself that way? If being honest, Yoshio doesn't think of himself likely to be compared to a white sheep.
"I think so." Of course he's aware of that but not with the 'quiet personality'. "We all need to study, don't we? And you can learn more especially in noiseless locations." Wow, what a dumb explanation. No wonder, he wanted to quickly melt right now to avoid furthermore secondhand embarrassment but it's just so inevitable.
But the awkwardness disappeared as soon as he finished his sentence, realizing that only a fool would make a big deal out of it. Seto's not making fun of him anyway, so why be worried?
Cupcakes are made with wheat byproducts. That alone is reason not to. He isnât a cupcake though. âNot quite, but all the same I wouldnât recommend it. I probably donât taste very good.âÂ
The presence of a frown shortly graces the content expression he previously had. Yoshio presented a valid point and it grabs at his heart. Will anyone remember him when he eventually leaves? There has to be someone out there. Someone among the unknown number of people he has unintentionally forgotten.
A name appears in his mind followed by their visage and the smile quickly returns along with another thought. Even if that person for some reason wouldnât, the position will always be filled. âThere will always be someone to remember you, even if you donât expect them to. It might even be a stranger you only talk to for a few minutes one day.â
You would think the mention of the souls would continue along the melancholy-but-kind-of-optimistic route, but this is Cecil. âWell then say hi! Iâm sure they would appreciate the attention and conversation over floating around bored all the time.â Ah, the boy understands his optimism. âLooking at the bright side is the preferred option. So long as it isnât so bright you go blind. In that case ignorance is preferred. Itâs not bliss, but itâs certainly easier in that situation.â His arm is pulled back and he places them both in his lap, leaning forward as he thinks on Yoshioâs question.
"Vaguely." The memories swirl like shards of glass in water. You can see them and you can almost understand them, but grasping them fully hurts. Only a few of the broken shards have dulled edges. These are the ones scooped up to study instead. No specific memories of his hometown, but if he ignores the true focus of the shards to look at the backdrop he can piece bits together.
Repeating locations. âA small town.â Shades of red, orange, and tan. Lots of sand. âSomewhere in the desert.â A recording booth. This shard is vivid and it sends his mind into a state similar to the visions. To outsiders Cecil looks as though he is completely spacing out. He forgets that speaking about the surroundings while he isnât truly there is likely to warrant a confused reaction. âThe mug says NVCR. Oh, hold on listeners, my script has found its way back to my desk.â Yeah heâs temporarily lost. âI do love the wording on this one, but itâs the introduction that gets me every time. Welcome to Night Vale. Iââ Several blinks and Cecil quickly straightens up. The surroundings are the park again. He is mentally berating himself and it shows. âSorry about that. On the upside youâve learned more than either of us were expecting.â
A laugh quickly followed, finding the response quite humorous. "You were too optimistic just a moment ago. What happened to that resolve?" Well, no one really wants to be a cupcake. If someone does, that's just too much. Someone. Who is that someone? Like Cecil said, it could be anyone but what if even the word anyone no longer proves significant? He had so many questions that he wanted to ask the other, seemingly amused with his gift of common sense. It's simply because he had never talked to someone who didn't find human philosophy weird or as far as his mind can remember. Breathing and permitting the air to flow is a good thing, just try not to forget that other elements exists and one cannot live with just depending on a single thing. Dependency sucks but it's not like it's avoidable. Whether someone likes it or not, whether they want to prove they do or they don't, dependency is something that is present everyday. A person eats a lunch in a certain food shop and trusting the owner that he will never be poisoned. That's also dependency. "Now, that sounds scary."
Contemplating too hard can give him headaches but he let loose by simply relaxing, aiming at the thought without the need to get closer to it. "I don't know but it's really making me mad how such a thing as hierarchy exists. Wouldn't it be fine if we're all in the same ground without needing to be ahead of one another?" Not like surpassing someone means a lot to him but losing does. He hates having to accept mistakes and though respectful, when the winner's not looking at him anymore, he would frown and take back his sweet words. It's all too good that it only happens once in a blue moon.
And he paused, listening to the sudden change of tone that the other offered which made Yoshio tensed all the same. One could pretty much tell that the other was imitating or perhaps, was a former radio DJ. For instance, the word listeners came up which breaks his assumption of the other as a news reporter. Not like it matters but it's all so weird to him. Perhaps it makes sense of him knowing what words to choose, for it had been a previous work or a dream that never happened, Yoshio couldn't explain. But as the world flipped itself back to reality, his expression shifted from bewildered to devastatingly confused. "I'm sorry but.." He blinked a few times before continuing. "Are you alright? I figured it's quite a mistake to ask much. Are you perhaps, hungry?" Or just really crazy or high on drugs, though the latter is a bit awkward to think about.
  For what seemed like half an hour inside the labyrinth of books, the young woman managed to find a small grove of books and study desks across what she needed to find. âGreat timing,â she thought, taking her first steps into the aisle. Thick and thin books in alphabetical order branched out like vines, talking of the supernatural inside abandoned homes, the infamous Aokigahara and itâs lonely, defeated souls that haunt the woods as people continue to take their life inside. All interesting information, and yet still nothing about shrines. She did grab quick books on hauntings around shrines and ceremonies, but stopped as Rei reached the end of the aisle. A small frown appeared on her face, shaking her head as she turned into the next aisle for more.
She hadnât expected to see another living being while she explored, and gave a startled gasp. Then she blushed in shame, how could she let her guard down like that? She bows and mumbles a quick apology before continuing her search in the new aisle, careful not to disturb the figure far down the shelves of books. Which cut short as she spotted something that caught her eye. Shrine Rituals and evil. At this point, a blurred memory of stakes and hammers passed through her mind, shaking her head and grabs the thick book. The bind looked somewhat new, a rich maroon color with bold, black font sprawled vertically. Opening the book, the curious woman turned to itâs table of contents to find anything that would catch her eye once more.
Lively killers surround him everywhere and who would have thought that someone would even make an attempt to murder him even in this isolated corner. He didn't notice at first but the muffled sound created by what looked like a girl, Yoshio almost dropped the book he's holding and averted his eyes away as soon as the woman pierced him with her surprised gaze. If she was indeed a killer, Yoshio could have been dead by now. He couldn't help but wonder what's making his life so full of disappointment. Steel palettes were fixated at the dark wall, expecting the stranger to leave as soon as she noticed his almost dull presence but she didn't and that made Yoshio think she's looking for something important and perhaps, he could lend an help? Maybe that'll change her mind on planning to murder him.
Not paying much attention to the book she was holding, he moved closer to pull a book at the upper-left corner. He didn't know what he's trying to get but he can sure use that as an excuse to ask her if she needs help. Feeling the nervousness, the book landed on the ground in a pitiable position and like the embarrassed person he is, he looked away before bending down to pick it up. Wow, Yoshio, you're just really great at making fun of yourself, huh? "Studying occult?" The student finds himself asking impulsively, slowly standing up to match her level. "Oh, that.. That was nothing. I'm surprised someone other than me visits this.. abandoned sanctum." And that came up all of a sudden with his mouth slightly open, not knowing if he should take his words back.
to make up for it
Seto looked around the apartment as he was left alone, taking in his surroundings.  The main room seemed larger than the one in his apartment, and there was a slightly different layout, at least judging by the doors.  It made sense, since they lived in totally different buildings.  He wondered  if the other had lived here long at all.  It was difficult to tell, but he thought maybe heâd been here longer than Seto had.
It wasnât long until Yoshio returned, and Setoâs head bobbed up to grin at him from his seat on the floor. Â The other boy still looked kind of irritated, a hand on his forehead, but Seto ignored it.
"Oh, thanks!" He almost bolted to his feet to take the tea, but managed to stay seated, instead just shifting position restlessly where he sat on the floor. Â When his cup was full, he reached out to take it gingerly, holding the small cup in his fingers with care.
He knew enough not to drink immediately and burn his mouth, and instead blew slightly on the surface as he listened to what Yoshio had to say.
"I hadnât noticed it yet," he replied, his voice curious. Â There were so many cool places to see in the city, and he hadnât seen even half of them yet. Â The rest of what he said was interesting, especially since Seto just generally ate things because they were available and not really with much thought to what benefits they brought. Â "Is that your favorite place?"
The living room is designed in a Japanese style as usual; with the wooden table, flat pillows on the floor and a very comfy tatami. The walls are painted white and the bright light from the small chandelier can be seen reflecting through the cold wooden tiles but the heater distributes enough warmth to not make it seem like stepping your foot on it means inevitable death. Apparitions don't seem to matter for believing in nonsense is the most contagious feeling that is quietly scattered around the room. He's a silly tracker in his own way, paying more than enough attention to study the gesture of a new friend, a former stranger. It wasn't new at all for he liked observing people and noticing what makes their presence much different from the others. As far as his mind can tell him, Seto was ordinary and wait, who even gladly invites a person you met five minutes ago inside your quarters?
He finally smiled after knowing that he didn't appear that weird at all and now he feels guilty for expecting a weirder expression. Yoshio's hand, which was on his forehead just a moment ago, lifted one of the tea cups. "Kinda, but not really." It's just so hard to make up one's mind. "I prefer the city library to be honest. Though the park isn't so bad with their ice cream trucks."
"Alright, Yo- shi- o- san!â Itâs a fun role, this act of borderline strangers, that theyâre playing, and she enjoys the light fairy-skips that define the way she brushes over and drawls out each syllable with unloaded meaning. The queen of moonless nights hasnât given permission for this man to address her in such familiar terms, but she feels it to be natural and fine; the guts of the brave are worth a hundred thousand times more than those too afraid to take initiative. She hasnât has the chance to ever experience this sensation of such a gameâboth  like cats swiping with padded claws, before retreating swiftly to watch the responseâin what feels to be a very, very long time.
She feels his guarded eyes, but makes no attempt to reciprocate. At this point, all she has in terms of information is scarce, but Mikado has seen all that could be observed; she is no Sherlock Holmes, no super-genius able to deduce a million little habits by a glance at a manâs trousers. No point in staring back. Itâll only serve to make things awkward; better to pretend she isnât aware of his curiosity.
In all truth, any attempts to practice whatever skills her household had drilled into her are half-assed, melted away in the sunshine. No sense of duty at the moment; the solemn lines of rigid justice and truth that define every stiff contour, every straight line of her body is lost to the bending of her back as she leans slightly forward to muffle her giggles. A small nagging at the back of her head, to be sureâshe would lose all her personality without that sense of directionâbut this innocent socializing is⌠new. If she had been up to the task at the moment, she would have already asked a hundred innocent questions, leading the conversation in directions that would lead to Yukata spilling more of himself, but- Mikado herself feels that if she were to do the usual and rip into his guts for truth of his character, she would have violated a sacrosanct oath. Thereâs no way she could express this feeling properly, but a whisper tells her that she has received a reprieve from a world where she would break others for an attempt to create a better life. Sheâs never felt like such a traitor before this harmless encounter, and she revels in the haughty rush that accompanies heedless pride.
Odd. The best sheâs ever had are half-buried memories and dreams- dreams, when she compares their faint outlines to this sensation, no longer seem half as silly as she assumed when she dreamed them up. She feels so very alive.Â
Mikado pulls out her phone to check for the time; 3:27 P.M. the glass screen reads. Good. Sheâs sure thereâs a vendor at the park who sells ice-cream who closed at four, and Mikado wouldnât mind the coolness such a sugary treat would impart.
"If youâre going to be so insistent on making me pay for something, then I demand we go Dutch. And, hey, you made the offer first- youâre not allowed to complain!"
Words paddling haphazardly combined with shallow machinations, provided him nothing but a reason to curve his brims. A deadly hardware she is, a moving and an unstoppable one. He could already feel his previous actions forming to be a self-destructive depredation which caused him to annoyingly shut his eyes for a moment to contemplate in what point did he became wrong. Decent extravagance wouldn't hurt for he acquired more personal funds than necessary. Deadly qualities? He could organize violence (not really) in an absurd mental way without informing the other party. A tactician of a sort who can apply intellectual skills into almost everything but why did he find it difficult enough to simply deal with a member of the intriguing opposite sex? Not like she'll bite him or demon away.
"How eccentric." Yoshio could only comment on her, though of course he was fully relieved that she didn't mind. A slight embarrassment slowly crawls through him upon realizing that he just allowed someone to refer to him with his first name. Not like it was a problem or anything but it was a bit comfortable and he finds it extremely strange; gauche romantic or whatever one can call it. Bouncing shadows in the future didn't falter as they made way towards the inevitable ground.
A careless delusion comes into view. Intertwining the unusual and sorted feelings. Pulsating thoughts keep grumbling and grumbling, urging him to have the spine to keep the conversation going though clearly obvious that he doesn't have any topic in his vast mind. Like a pious banishment, a sacred idea evaporating without him being permitted to catch it, snatch it back. Yoshio was certain that he had never been so assuming all his life and yet he finds himself forming hypotheses of what she had been like before this meeting took place. No one would want to listen to his magical tedium, consisted of falsifying those beyond the norm and with that being said, he's a man full of common sense. A person who's feverishly clinging to science as if such a thing could really explain every element in this world. But a screaming sonata can be heard, not far from where they are and he wondered what made life so horrifyingly beautiful and fascinatingly ugly at the same time with humans dancing, mortally playing and progressing in life without fully understanding what's the most significant thing in the universe. Some might answer air, others might think it's life itself and as for him, he could only laugh while shrugging the thought for it didn't really matter to him whether or not there's something out there that he needs to find out.
A small tilt of his head as he tried glancing at the same screen that she lay her eyes upon on but quickly pulled back after realizing that prying on people's privacy was illegal and he had no plans on putting himself behind bars. It's not even important if she'll do it or not because for all he know, she's capable of doing so no matter how small the deal is. Both brows raised in curiosity as he anticipated words from a new friend, if he's even allowed to call her that. Â She's just so bad at giving up.
"Whatever. I don't mind paying just let me do it. I was the one who came up with the thought after all. You can treat me next time." Assuming there will be one.
Mikado was shocked to hear the news. In the back of his mind, he was hoping never to hear such a thing. These days, society treated gangs with no respect â- even if said gang wasnât meant to cause harm nor trouble. Mikado may have appeared as such an innocent high schooler, but he was still a leader; the leader of his global, anonymous group.
He wasnât going to allow such actions happen to another fellow member. But what could he do? The only thing he could do, as of now, is pertain more information from the other member.
First things first: Ask if their other Dollars member is alright.Â
Taro Tanaka is typingâŚ
Taro: Iâm glad to hear youâre doing fine, Kuroshi-san.
Taro: Although, Iâm very sorry to hear about our fellow memberâŚ.
Taro: Do you happen to know if he is okay?
Taro:Â And how long ago did this happen?
      Because hearing the word gang gives too many negative assumptions. They often mistake it as a mafia of a sort and rebels; people who sell drugs and asks money for protection which leads to having real territory fights in different corners and arguments between groups who were supposed to be gaining respect in a way that harms no one else, but end up being rivals against one another.
      But this colorless group is different. They strive for peace more than a fist fight and that's made Yoshio want to know the leader more, assuming he's an older person who wants to help the people attain a better life without violence and discrimination present. Yoshio wanted to be just like him.
   Kuroshi is typingâŚ
Kuroshi: Just an hour ago. Kuroshi: He said that he was gonna quit. Kuroshi: I'm not sure if he informed you. Kuroshi: Is there anything we can do to help?
     It was an absurd question. Dollars is an anonymous group, of course the leader would refuse to show himself to offer help because his life would be in danger if he did so. But the main problem is, what are their problems against Dollars? It's not like they're bunch of criminals playing thug games or something.
"I-Iâm notâŚ!! I-Itâs trueâŚ! E-Even with m-my short disappearanceâŚn-nobody has even made the a-attempt to speak with meâŚ!"
"I-Iâm really pathetic, arenât I?"
"I don't think so."
"I mean, if you don't make an effort with talking, then nothing will happen. It's the same with waiting an apple to fall down from a tree while you sleep below it."
   Admittedly, the morning Rei woke up in her new furbished home, she felt a wave of curiosity rush through her. The topic surprisingly, was about the occult and shrines. Why was that? Maybe it was a past project, or Yuu had possibly planned to bring her around one before his death? Regardless of what the reason was, a sense of restlessness wafted over her as she began her day. She swept her hair with precise strokes, quickly brushing just a bit of stubborn strands back with moused fingers while brushing her teeth, and in just moments left home thoroughly clean and bag in to head to the closest place for a library.
  Luckily with help from a trafic guiding policeman, Rei found herself in front of a university. Being invisible as possible the young woman slipped through the doors and shuffled up lengthy stairs into a vast book room. The library was breath taking considering her days back in Uni, where the distance to the door and the furthest shelf only covered half the space in this room. Now all there was to look for was the occult and any shrines in Japan that would somehow make her remember something. Rei walked ahead to a random section, disappearing into the books as she carefully searched for anything piquing her interest or vague memories.
     A detailed report regarding foreign folklore and the like. He's been in the corner of an abandoned section for two hours due to finding it deeply interesting how such books don't seem to attract enough attention and yet just by reading one could suck a single soul away. A lot of students were gathered at different bookshelves; finding stories and their fated romance if such a thing exists so. But he was there in his fabricated artificial world were stories of the past only matters. There was an incident where he stumbled upon an article about the tale of the bamboo cutter and how Princess Kaguya is said to be residing in the moon; in its capital.
     Elders in town would talk about it with young people. Pass the stories of their ancient heroes and how they fought alongside evil creatures. Yoshio was in complete doubt of the existence of the supernaturals but to respect the culture of the town, he nods as though he was filled with deep conviction-- enamored by it. But souls do gather whenever they have the opportunity and they cry whenever their love ones, that they had left, were in pain but no matter how they increase the volume of their screams, they will never be heard. It's a sad reality but there must be a way to communicate with the dead or simply meet them but the only way he knew is to join them in which he's not yet ready to do so.
to make up for it
It struck Seto suddenly that his new friend hadnât smiled once. Â Before, heâd just chalked it up to the pain caused by being struck in the face â and now that he looked he could see the injury on the otherâs forehead â but now there was no such reason and he still looked down. Â Rather than think it was his fault (and it probably was) Seto instead quietly swore to himself heâd try to cheer him up at least a little. Â He owed it to him, after all!
He hadnât been thinking about being shy at all, but at the otherâs words he sat down quickly, folding his long legs.  âI try to be!â he responded, the usual cheer in his voice.  There were a lot of things about this town that would worry him if he dwelt on them for too long.  The holes in his memory, the strange layout, the lack of people he knewâŚÂ
"Youâre in university?" he asked, his mouth falling open. Somehow, heâd just assumed he was his own age, but looking at him again he didnât know how heâd gotten to that conclusion, since he was obviously much older than Seto. Â He committed the otherâs name to memory, determined not to forget it.
"Tea would be great, thank you!"
He didnât really have any strong memories associated with tea, but all the same a happy feeling appeared in his chest at the thought, so apparently he did at least like it.
     Why so surprised? He didn't look like an ordinary high school boy or did he? Such a shame if that's the case since he's been trying too hard to look mature in front of a new acquaintance but seems like the result wasn't the same with what he was expecting. In that moment, Yoshio forced himself to see the point of it as useless since it doesn't really define who he was so to fear something so trivial is the same with being an idiot. He refuse to accept that sometimes he could be one.
     "I am." He responded with his back facing the other and went to the kitchen after receiving the request. Having a guest doesn't happen so often but he could already claim that his apartment room could already serve as a separated world, unless you count the room which is owned by another person; which is positioned in front of his. They don't talk and the girl always appears as though she had no time to waste on him.
     It didn't take much time to prepare considering that he was already brewing something before Seto arrived. Yoshio had different kinds of beverages ranging from teas to expensive wines arranged in the wide kitchen. The latter remains not quite useful in there and he had yet to open one but not today. Hands traced to check what tea set should be used and he picked the one with blue and gold color palettes.
     Returning with his left hand remaining on his forehead and the tea set balanced on the other, he set them down on the table by letting go of the arm that used to be so glued on his head for a moment and had everything organized. Sitting down across, he started lifting the tea pot to pour some on Seto's cup. "Have you seen the Chinese store nearby? I got this Pu-erh tea in there. They sell inexpensive but high quality goods. Pu-erh tea lowers the cholesterol in the body.  Good for a person who likes fried stuffs."
"Unauthorized killing is a bit out of line. You should get all ritualistic sacrifice approved first." And talk it over with the potential sacrifice, but sometimes that step just had to be skipped.
"Weâll all disappear at some point. Some of us sooner than others. Some of us much, much, later. Now why would you be afraid of something like that? Being scared of the inevitable end is no way to spend your time. Being scared of other things, certainly. There are lots of frightening things out there. But not that."
Death isnât something anyone should dread. Everyone has to go eventually. Cecil sets his arm along the back of the bench so it goes behind the boy and gives what he believes to be a reassuring smile. There might be a hint of a laugh in his eyes because honestly, the boy is worried about something so mundane? It is a bit amusing.
"Human lifespans are a bit short, but thatâs just more incentive to make it worth living. Not every aspect of your life is beyond your control. Fine one that isnât and do something with it. Something you enjoy. Something that will make your days on this Earth worthwhile until you too leave this plane of existence."
"Your name is the foreign one to me." Sudden subject change but Cecil doesnât think anything of it. Except of course that Yoshio is an odd name. Odd isnât bad though, and the strange name sounds neat. "But foreign is objective. Good to have your name."
      He didn't mean to laugh but it was an absolute absurd thought. "Are you some kind of evil cupcake warning a human not to eat you? Humans have ears but at times they serve no purpose."
      "The idea of me and the others naturally leaving the Earth isn't scary at all. What's terrifying is to leave without anyone remembering you. They will mourn over dead bodies; flesh where we used to be caged but the souls don't rest in peace, you know? They're just there and I can see them everyday." He also could hear them.
      Unless you don't have someone else. Someone that one day might be left off of another because of the tragedy called death. A person who's forced to depend on himself because the metals that supports the bridge were no longer present. To put it simply, people mourn over the dead not because they were gone but for the reason that no one will portray the role and provide the things they used to be anymore.
      "People used to survive for thousands of years and how did we fall in such a limit? If anything, I want to go back to that period of time even if it means abandoning my modern fate. It's not so bad to forget about improving since time can make enough progress than an environment's worth. But I suppose looking at your point of view is better."
      He would study the others' expressions as he take consideration his own facade. To prove an optimistic point requires a a convincing statement and deliberation and Cecil reached that. "That's just how the world is, like you said." Aiming in thought, he figured he should ask. "You don't happen to remember where you came from.." All of a sudden. "Or do you?"
âŽ
a peck on the forehead.
It was amazing how a few online chats could turn into many online chats, to full on text messages to a real life meeting. As soon as Mikado was offered the chance to meet Yoshio in person, Mikado reluctantly took it and never let it go. When the day finally came, Mikado was anxious. But Yoshio welcomed him with open arms, and the two decided to walk around Hajima, then eat dinner back at Mikadoâs apartment.Â
When they arrived back at his place, he let Yoshio sit back on the couch while he went to the kitchen and started to whip up something nice for the two to eat. Mikado was so focused on making them dinner, that he didnât notice his companion had snoozed off into dreamland. Turning around, he lifted an eyebrow, slowly walking over to the couch.Â
He looked so calm, his breathing slow and lulling. Mikado couldnât help but smile down at his relaxed demeanor. In fact, he found this like some sort of picture perfect scene from a movie.Â
âŚ..He looks adorable. Mikado didnât want to wake up him just yet, the stubborn little gang leader he was. But what was he to do now?
He looked down at his elder companion, lost in thought for a few moments. Finally, he leaned down even more, lips a few inches away from his face. Soft lips pecked the front of his forehead gently, eyes lowered into a collected gaze. He placed another quick kiss atop the gentle skin. A light red hue tainted his cheeks, as he stood back up, quickly walking back over to the kitchen.
He would never tell a single soul about this.
The boyâs retort regarding the cannibalistic comment makes Cecil chuckle. âGood for you then. After all if that is what you thrive on then who am I to put you down for it? Who is anyone to deny you what you enjoy in life? Who are we at all? But yes, good for you.â
He watches silently as the boy sifts though his thoughts.He knows what it looks like when someone is having an inner monologue with themselves. Itâs something that happens quite often, especially within his own mind. In fact, heâs doing it right now. Taking the moment the boy has given him to do the same. To sort through the confusion between what he should say, what he might want to say, what topics definitely shouldnât be broached, and many other things.
Several possible conversation paths are thought of, but rather than use any of them the host lets the temporary silence continue. He can see the gears turning in the boyâs head (not literally of course) which is why he doesnât speak up. The other is either working up to say something or deep in thought, and neither is something you should interrupt. The moment is filled in his part by looking up the slowly-clouding-over sky, and a strange feeling encompasses him. Two actually. The first is that he should be frightened of it. The second is that he should be watching it from somewhere else, but that feeling has been with him ever since he arrived in town.
A glance back at the boy, whose smile he returns. Back to the discussion it seems.
"Youâre jokes are fine. But now masochist? That might be a bit much. I mean, I just take what life gives me. If the universe decides that today I need a bit or a lot of pain in my life, well, thatâs the way it goes. I wouldnât say I seek it out. More often than not it seeks out me. Thatâs just the way things work, however, and it canât be helped. I prefer to take it and do what I can with it rather than spend my life terrified and hiding from every little thing. How does anyone like that get anything done?"
As he makes himself more comfortable on the bench by leaning into the arm, another thought occurs to him.
"I realize names arenât really important, but it would be nice to have one for you. I go by Cecil."
      He was just a man who sees the world as an unfortunate wonderland and he couldnât help but test his luck. âYou say that, but I donât think youâre the type to allow someone to commit murder just because itâs entertainment for them, or would you?â Not everything should be permitted. Just because itâs fun doesnât mean it should be allowed.
      Comparing yourself with others is the most absurd thought that one may have. Because first, it does nothing to a person but present them negative thoughts and make them focus on their weak points. As for him, he didnât know if he had any but heâs certain that just like the others, there are times where his knowledge seems inapplicable. Secondly, thereâs always someone better than the other. One may have beaten you in a competition but one day, they would experience the same defeat. Lastly, arenât humans created to be different from each other?
      Wouldnât it be nice to have the same optimism as the stranger on the other side of the bench? If only he could see a brighter source of light in a dim room with nothing but a single candle, it might be possible for him to escape his room of pessimism. Still, itâs easier said than done. Today, he would be able to stop thinking of idle thoughts and allow his mind to process criticism and how itâs precisely different with insulting judgment. A row of cutis anserine lingering at his arms, perhaps predicting tomorrow with an unhealthy mind doesnât perceive satisfying results. Itâs the same with how fortune flows and the Chinese predicts, a dragon must not be terrified despite the age.
      He loves studying but the thought of knowing nothing else scarps his mind.
       âSo youâre saying that youâll also be fine if the world tells you that one day, youâll die? Iâm sorry if this sounds harsh or dumb-- whichever but, just how do you stop being afraid of disappearing? To people, right now it sounds like a normal thing. Death is always there in front of your door. Is there a way to fight the universe and flip a bird at it while saying, âHell, no. Iâm gonna live a thousand years more. Not even death can stop me!â? A device to prolong human lives would be fantastic as hell. Itâll make Satan regret dying.â Well, things escalated quickly.
     âNah, donât say that. It is, so knowing yours is an honor. Quite a foreign one, huh? Iâm Yoshio.â This conversation is better than having himself observing people as though heâs a hired assassin, willing to find his victim in a handful of needle.
ď˝ď˝ď˝ď˝ď˝ď˝ď˝;;
   As soon as the person he grabbed on to turned to face the blond, he made a disappointed expression when he finally noticed it was a guy. He was really sure that he called a girl a while ago, thatâs his guess. Well, heâs just very stupid to not notice that he the person he grabbed onto was taller than him and manlier. Anyways, thatâs not the reason why he pulled the guy for. He needs someone to help him look for a place to stay while heâs in that situation. And this guy looks like an adult that he could trust and it also looks like he knew this place, he hoped.
   He slowly pulled his hands, removing it from the otherâs shoulders as he grinned, scratching his head as he looked down. ăI guess I was a little rude earlier⌠grabbing you all of a sudden.ă he looked up to meet his face, followed with his hands clasped together as he closed his eyes. ăSorry.ă Well, if itâs a girl whom he grabbed onto earlier, he wouldnât be apologizing like this right now, and if it was really a girl⌠you probably know what would happen next.
   ăAnyways,âŚă Masaomi spoke, getting straight to the point now. ăâŚI just arrived hereâŚă he looked at the luggage he brought here, as if proving that he really was just new. ăâŚand I really donât know where are the nice places to stay here. I was just wondering if you could help me look for a place?ă he asked with a smile plastered on his face. He quickly spoke up once more as he introduce himself to him first, since he thought it was needed. ăOh! By the way, the nameâs Masaomi, Kida Masaomi and itâs nice to meet you.ă
     The person, whom Yoshio assumed to be younger than him look somewhat deceived the moment he turned around to eye whoever caught his attention with a slight force. He had no idea what made the other mold his expression into what could be described as downhearted; a little displeased, probably because he got his precious expectations ruined. But what bothers the taller one is what the blond was assuming albeit the matter wasnât that significant for the both of them. Facing the stranger fully, Yoshio lowered his head a little before shifting his gaze at different directions. The city is quite wide and for someone to mistake another for a familiar figure is only normal, isnât it?
      It was awkward, the way the boy took it as a big deal. A touch doesnât make him that uncomfortable and heâs quite sure he had done the same during his first time here in Hajima. âItâs fine.â Heâs just glad that the stranger didnât happen to be one of those criminals lurking around. Theyâre only a few of them in the city considering the peaceful and modern ambiance it gives but not all people are blessed so he couldnât blame them. âItâs nothing. I was just surprised.â Yoshio nodded.
     âYutaka Yoshio. Iâve been here for months now and I wouldnât lie about knowing only a few things around here, Kida-san.â He admitted, displeased that he wouldnât serve much as a help in guiding this person. A hand was inserted in his chest pocket, pulling a v-card and he handed it over to the blond. It was only to guarantee that if he needed a help in something or simply got lost, he could always contact Yoshio for help. âIâll recommend you an apartment depending on your preference though. You should give me details.â Varying from the special services to the ones closes to the town. Everything comes with a price unless living in a cheap hotel room would be fine.
