✧ 04. Was taken away

Summer is an unbearable season, especially for those who are unfortunate enough to be outside out of necessity. By the start of July, life had taken a turn in which the sun would beat down upon the pavement in a torrential blaze, and the only thing you could do was either stock up on ice cream to hope that it was enough to distract you from the hellfire around you, or to stay indoors and coop up next to a fan for a while. I began to go outside less, meaning any time Rin wanted to see me, she would have to camp at the izakaya and endure another agonizing bout of small-talk with Kobayashi before I could drag her upstairs. On this day, though, she skipped the small-talk to bring me upstairs with a bag of gifts.

“You forgot to tell me about your birthday,” Rin said to me as she shoved the bag into my hands. I rolled my eyes at her; birthdays were of little importance, and it’s not anything she has power over whether or not I told her about my birthday, or if she knew me by the time I had grown a year older. I hadn’t celebrated my birthdays since my 15th, in which my parents simply sat me down with a cake, took a photo, and acknowledged I had grown so much in the past year. Such a thing was expected of an adolescent, the volatility of finding one’s identity and place in the world, but into adulthood, there was no such volatility or notable difference. Why, then, would I need to continue celebrating? Rin could tell that I was pondering this futility, as she soon hooked her finger into one of the bag’s loops and pulled it open for me, grabbing the gifts herself. “You need to stop pretending like nothing matters. A year ago, you were freshly on the streets, and now you’re so well-adapted that I almost look like a rookie in comparison.” Rin spoke in her usual bouncy tone. “Aren’t you proud?”

“Of myself?” I asked.

“Yes!”

“Sort of,” I grumbled. “You’re celebrating my birthday a month late, and I didn’t do anything on that day either. But…” I trailed off as Rin was organizing all of the gifts she had prepared for me in the paper bag she had gratuitously decorated. She had arranged an assortment of bottle caps, a few new bracelets, and a note from herself.

Rin sits up, placing her hands on her lap. As she smiled at me, the glitter on her lips shimmered in the dim lighting of the room. She waves off her gesture as she speaks. “It’s nothing grand, but I put a lot of love into it, so please accept this as my belated gift.”

“You really shouldn’t have.”

“No, no, I insist.” Rin practically begged. She placed her hands on my knees, patting them enthusiastically. I place the bracelets on my wrists, adding to a growing collection of jewelry I would collect from various places in the neighborhood. Rin often would express her affection through elaborate gifts, making sure you knew she cared about you through an ever-growing presence of material things that screamed her name. I never cared for the color pink, sparkly things, or such garish makeup, but every instance of glitter on my sleeves or a new shiny accessory was the mark of Rin's affection that simply couldn’t be ignored or tossed away.

“Okay, then I have to accept. They’re nice things,” I couldn’t help but admit under my breath. Rin then nods quickly. Jingling sounds come from her head; from braids and bows and actual bells she’s interlocked into her ponytails. It was enough to knock me out of the trance I was slipping into while staring at my arm, only to be met with her large eyes and thick eyelashes. My next words came off much harsher than I meant for them to; “Whoa. Your makeup’s gotten bolder.” In that moment, Rin suddenly beamed and clapped her hands.

“Yes, it has! I’m glad you noticed. I’ve been trying something new, those gals have such hot looks that you can spot from a mile away, it makes me feel like I need something that stands out just as much. Nakucha, maybe you should try it too—” Before she could finish her statement, I was already shaking my head. Nervous laughter escaped my throat involuntarily. There was no way I would ever go that bold with my makeup, even if Rin were to give me the biggest puppy eyes and beg until her throat went dry. Maybe she could tell I was serious about my refusal, because the moment I laughed, Rin dropped the subject and stood tall. “Huh, this place is quite a bore,” she announced pretty boldly. I agreed, but it wasn’t my apartment, so I had little influence in its decor. You could understand much about a person by how they decorated where they live, but not so much if they were living with another person who had more right to how things were arranged, instead learning of the dynamic of the people living together and how much power one has over the other. Though my corner clearly had its influence, everything else was plain, with the occasional old movie poster clinging to the concrete walling and minimal furniture. “Guys really don’t care about beauty, do they?” Rin continued complaining, as if she wanted Kobayashi to hear her critiques.

“Only if it’s on someone they like,” I respond back dryly.

“What a scathing idea.”

“Scathing?”

“What? I can read too, you know.” Rin scoffed.

I smiled, nodding at her. “I just didn’t think you’d use such a specific word. That’s all.” She rolled her eyes, walking over to an empty bookshelf containing a few magazines and various unrelated books. Rin couldn’t help but inspect everything with great curiosity, running her fingers along lines of text and staring at pictures up close. “Is there a reason you’re invading Kobayashi’s privacy?” I ask. Suddenly, she puts everything back in its place and turns to look at me with those same big eyes she had given earlier.

“Curiosity,” she bluffs. “I should probably head downstairs now, before I end up finding something I’ll regret seeing.” Rin backs away with yet another big grin, which turned into a genuine smile as she noticed me following her back down. She lands at the end of the stairs with a bounce, bounding to the bar before claiming a seat next to where my usual spot was. By now, I've begun talking to Kobayashi a little more, but I chose to ignore him this time, as there was nothing he could say that could particularly stir my mind with Rin being in the room. When I sat beside her, she began to immediately adjust the bracelets on her wrist, twisting them so each name lined up and none were overlapping. The care that Rin put into her appearance was one I found myself nearly frustrated with, perhaps because I was starting to put myself into her shoes and realize how delicate such a fashion is and how often she seems to be picking at it. I couldn't tell whether she enjoyed it or was frustrated, as the same content smile was on her face. Knowing Rin, maybe she chose such an intricate style to give herself something to do at any idle moment, as she is known to be quite the restless person. Though the more I began to ponder on it, the louder the room would get before I heard my name.

"Nakuru," Kobayashi said quietly. "Are you paying attention?"

"No," I groan. I was staring directly at Rin's arm, to which she was still adjusting her bracelets, though now flicking around the beads until they lined up perfectly.

"That's fine. I think some of those workers are coming back around the afternoon, so you may want to get out of here before that. I'm sure you remember the last time they caught you around."

I certainly did. Though that first impression wasn't the best, there had been a few occasions where I was caught slinking around the izakaya while they visited. One of the worst however, was when the gormandizer of the group arrived with a girl he was seeing, and he began gawking at me, waving his greasy finger around while trying his hardest to make the girl laugh. He must have been particularly un-amusing, or she must be quite the stoic girl, as she had not had a single reaction, simply staring at me and nodding at his comments. I simply went upstairs after that, letting the man humiliate himself further in front of his date. I hadn't heard much mention of her after that, as it's been months, so perhaps she had saved herself from the embarrassment of being with such a degrading man, someone who couldn't even take a moment to consider not using a stranger as the butt of his jokes.

Call it an unwise choice, perhaps, but I decided not to budge today. Rin was next to me, and to drag her upstairs again meant that she'd risk utter boredom, or worse, a stronger urge to break into Kobayashi's things. Acknowledging the warning was fine by me, as part of me wanted to know how many in the group would show up, and what they'd get up to in their drunken stupor. I grabbed the same cup of disposable chopsticks and began to organize them in neat rows, shaking the cup occasionally to restart my work. Rin took note of this, grabbed a pair, and started to also impede my work.

"What's so bad about those guys again?" Rin asked.

"They're just exhausting," I replied under my breath. "They're not bad guys, but you can tell that they have little respect for anyone not in their in-group."

Rin seemed to frown at my assessment. She sighs, then rips off the paper wrapper of the chopsticks she held in her hands. "Is that true, or is that just your usual poor look on things…?"

I was taken aback by her comment. I didn't think I was quite the cynical person, but with Rin even pointing it out, I almost found myself wanting to stay silent. She lets the moment pass, but I eventually get my thoughts together. "Maybe I had a poor first impression, but they definitely aren't the most sensitive group to be around. Be ready for your appearance to be picked apart."

"Really? That's not too unusual… you don't really see girls as colorful as I am."

"Hm. You'll probably weather it just fine."

"Oh, no, it'll still bother me depending on how they say it." Rin smiled, now tapping the chopsticks against one another in a steady rhythm.

Besides one customer, someone who seemed uninterested in anything other than their drink, Rin and I were the only patrons in the bar. It wasn't until I got a closer look at this person did I realize they were familiar. A pair of sunken eyes soon met mine, a weakened smile accentuated only by a pitiful mustache following soon after. That had to have been Amachi, that poor man with the unfaithful girlfriend. I hadn't seen him since the last time we talked, purposely avoiding confronting him in specific due to the unfortunate situation he had trusted onto me. However, as we made eye contact, it seems he was starting to recognize me too, or perhaps he had known, and simply chosen to lay low and let me speak my mind instead of defending his coworkers. I felt a pit in my stomach form, one that was not too dissimilar to the first time we had met, but I swallowed it down and kept my hands busy with the cup. Following a few moments of silence, Amachi spoke up.

"You really have a way of understanding things, Miss Arima," he said to me in a raspy, mousy voice. The manner in which he spoke was as if to suggest he knew more than you, though his voice was with the lisp and tone of a socially inept kid who could only speak of his favorite manga series without stuttering. This kind of person I was familiar with, as often growing up they would try to speak to me when I was reading to forge a connection, only to then profess their adoration for me a week later. However, Amachi gave an air of finally having the backing to speak and assess things as he does, despite his tone and outward appearance.

"I've come to learn a few things," I reply.

"Did you not recognize that one of the men you speak about was in the room with you?"

"I… didn't, honestly."

Amachi laughed to himself. He looked up at me again, his eyes devoid of all light. Perhaps this was the look of a mourning man, though if it were truly that, I'd find he is reminiscing too much over a mere relationship that barely lasted and was broken up by the instance of a single new man. However, part of me couldn't fault him if he were unaware of the flaws until his realization, as many would rather live in the bliss of their ignorance than to face the reality they're met with and move on from it. I was once one of those people, perhaps, but it was hard for me to tell whether or not everything I had learned up until this point was truly accepted. "It's no matter," he then responded, "I find them to be quite exhausting too. I only keep drinking with them because we work for the same department, and I need to unwind once in a while with such a demanding job."

"Is it that demanding?"

"It can be. Work's been more intensive as of late, as I've begun a new research project. Higher-ups begin to demand a lot of documentation, sometimes to the point the time it takes to write everything down is much longer than it'd be to simply do and record it all. But that is just how life is," he resigns with a sigh.

"I guess it can't be helped."

"No, but that doesn't mean it's truly hopeless."

"…" My silence fills the air with a stiff awkwardness. Amachi takes a sip of his drink, pushing his glasses onto his face. They weren't too dissimilar to mine, with rectangle frames, but I noticed that part of the rim had been soldered together, which he treated with care. I thought about everything said prior. A new research project, lots of documentation. The patterns in which those workers would arrive at the izakaya began to shift. Did that conversation we have a year ago do something to their group, coupled only with the sudden on-take of a new project? I couldn't tell what about it all was so interesting to me. My eyes began to scan Amachi, noting every feature of his appearance, down to his lab coat. It was white, perfectly ironed, and a red and white emblem was on one of the cuffs. It was the same as Maya's pin, which only confirmed to me that it had to be Umbrella's emblem. My chest began to burn for a moment as curiosity overtook me, wishing to make sense of this information, filling my head with a spinning loop of thoughts that begged to be unraveled. I spat out a rather impulsive question. "So, you said you were working on a new research project?"

"That's right," Amachi affirmed. He tugs on the cuff of his shirt beneath his coat, starting to avoid eye contact. "It's nothing too big, just looking into…" As his voice drags off, I note what he is about to say. Amachi seems to choose his words carefully. "Some experimental medicines, mostly for migraines."

Rin then interrupts. "Migraines? Is that some new epidemic happening? I've been having those for years, and I've been fine."

Amachi seems to smile at her comment, barely showing his teeth. He stroked his chin, as if mimicking the stroking of a beard, but with nothing more than disorganized peach fuzz to grapple at. "Well," he starts, "If my research goes well, maybe we'll have something out there that will help you no longer deal with those painful migraines," he tells Rin with a soft tone. It was starting to become clear he was making up words as he went. Normally, these kinds of trials aren't so openly shared. Perhaps it was much more than just medicine for migraines, but Amachi kept up his alibi as long as he could. It would be harmless to give an idea for something that was just a mere project, with no full intentions of public release or commercialization, I'd probably do the same to get a conversation going. He soon changes the topic, looking directly my way. "Miss Arima, you look like you're sweating a lot. Do you need to step out for a moment?"

"Do I? Hmm. It wouldn't hurt to step out for a bit. I'll be back, Rin." I said, getting out of my seat.

Amachi soon left his seat as well, leaving a small pile of money for Kobayashi. "I'll walk with her and make sure she's alright. Take this in case I can't come back."

I stopped for a moment, staring at Kobayashi, then Rin. He was right, I was starting to sweat a lot, but I couldn't feel much heat or sickness at this moment, just the sweating and a slight feeling of disorientation. A walk would be just fine for something like this, perhaps I needed to move around. I was convincing myself this would be fine, and soon convincing myself this brief step outside with Amachi would be harmless. When I got to the door, I stepped out and aside before Amachi joined me. We didn't acknowledge each other for long, just walking side by side as I watched my footsteps. Perhaps in this moment, my guard was let down, I felt in the hands of someone who worked in the medical field I would be fine if something happened to me. Within moments, something began to prod my side. Instinctively, I went to swat my hand at whatever was poking at me before a cold sensation brushed against my palm, and I soon grabbed onto the object. A bottle of water was pushed into my hand, now leaking droplets onto my arm, turning my fingertips pink as I tried to understand where this came from. I turn my head, looking at Amachi.

"Take that," he tells me, “You could be dehydrated."

"Oh. Okay. Thank you, I guess." I hesitated in taking this bottle, but as I opened the cap, Amachi could tell I was struggling to accept his offer.

"It's alright, just drink the water. I had it in a bag." He tried to reaffirm. As I drink the water, it's clear he's keeping a careful eye on me. Amachi had a habit of staring at the things he was focusing on, and I could see his eyes darting between my face and the ground. "You're pretty stiff," he comments. "Don't worry, I'm trying to make sure you don't faint - and if you do, I'll catch you."

"That's not why I'm hesitating."

"Then, why are you?"

"You gave me a bottle of water unprompted. Most people don't do that for a stranger unless they want something."

Amachi laughed nervously, as if caught in his intentions. "I'd hardly say we're strangers, Miss Arima. Perhaps we're more acquaintances, but… you aren't wrong about that. Anyone who says otherwise is lying about what they want. The difference, then, is whether they respect you enough to tell you." I stared at him for a little longer. "…That is to say, perhaps I do want something," he meekly whispers.

"What is it?"

"Let's put it like this - I'm interested in you. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and you helped me out of that relationship with that drag of a woman. I'm sure you've heard, she was in fact cheating, and she ran away the moment I confronted her about it."

"That I did hear, yes. But you're interested in me? I've heard this before… what more?"

"I just want some of your time. I'm sure you have plenty of it, with the situation you're in. Let me understand Miss Arima, and what makes her tick. People are important in my field, and it's not often someone like you is found."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're unique. You don't even take drinks from a stranger, or fall into their arms at any flattery. Look at how far apart we're standing, Miss. I'm sure with enough time, you'll find a good footing for yourself. It just takes some trust - exercise it here, perhaps."

"You're coming off a little strong," I grimaced.

"Perhaps I am… but is this an approach that works?"

"Sort of. I've been hearing a lot about your company, so it was inevitable I would have asked about it. You seemed to be the most approachable among your coworkers, and…"

"Really?" Amachi seemed surprised. He put a hand to his forehead, shaking off his shock within moments.

"Something like that. It'd just been showing up more around me, so I wanted to ask about it."

"Well, what you know now is probably enough. Unless you're looking for a job."

"Not really."

Amachi nodded. "Then, that's all it is. But, think on my offer, and if you want to become friends properly. I won't be offended if you say no."

I didn't answer him in that moment, simply staring at the ground again as we turned to walk back to the izakaya. When we had returned, Rin was gone without so much as a text telling me she needed to attend to matters, and she enjoyed hanging out with me. I felt an odd feeling deep in my stomach again, so I retired upstairs as Amachi and Kobayashi got back to talking over drinks. When I made my way to my bed, I wrapped myself in my blankets and got to staring at the ceiling, a favorite pastime. I began to ruminate on Amachi's words. The notion that most people have some kind of intention in their kindness made sense, and it felt nice for it to be confirmed, but to have him suddenly state his desires to me confused me. Honesty was not so easily given by most; at least not in that sense. If he were to play all those cards so openly, did that mean I was well-respected, or was he simply being upfront to see if I'd take the bait? Rin's comment on my cynicism began to wear on me as well, perhaps my stasis over the past year was due to my fear of taking on new opportunities. Most people have to assess risks, yes, but they will just as quickly take them if it means that the benefits of such a risk outweigh the detriments of it. I had come to understand then, the number of risks I had avoided outright and thus opportunities lost that meant I was not getting anywhere with my life and my pursuits to a decent future. I've grown complacent of this, and here I was avoiding yet another risk. Had avoiding one's interest in me to the point of shutting them outright left me entirely lonely now, not wanting to engage in the human pursuit of connection ever again?

I had fallen asleep before I could draw any conclusions on this. In my dreams, however, was the vision of a future I was longing for. Myself, a pile of books, and a beloved cat by my side as I must be some kind of author or professor, someone successful enough to have a piano in her own home and wear sweaters made of pure cashmere and not polyester. Perhaps I still dress as I do now, but with a wider range of options, so as to suggest I have enough space in my closet to afford such a collection. A life I don't have now, suddenly at my fingertips, perhaps this was the life I was sabotaging myself from achieving should I continue this agoraphobic lifestyle. I've come to realize, I even began avoiding that bookstore following my time with Rin, visiting once a month as if meeting her and now being able to be traced has suddenly made the space unsafe. Risks were something I was constantly telling others to take for their own good, yet I couldn't do so myself. When I awoke from this blissful dream, I was not greeted by a beautiful home or a cat cuddling up to me. It was simply me, my futon, and the smell of sugar filling the air of the morning. I felt sick again; an ailment not caused by anything I had eaten, though it felt as such. No, this was malaise of my own making, a feeling of self-loathing I had once avoided for so long suddenly at the forefront. Amachi was burned into my mind, his words and his assessment of me, something that suddenly felt false, as no one could be as cowardly as myself, someone who claimed to know how the world works, yet refuses to play into it herself.

I stretch out, roll over onto my stomach, then push myself up. After refreshing myself for the day, I make my way downstairs with my bag and greet Kobayashi with a brief salute. Again, I saw Amachi at the counter, enjoying another drink. Quietly, instead of heading outside as I usually did, I decided to sit at the bar a few seats away and order a late breakfast for myself. "Omurice is fine today," I tell Kobayashi, pulling the sleeves of my hoodie.

"Miss Arima, good morning," Amachi greets me. "It's a little warm today, do you want to wear something so thick?"

"I don't mind. I'm never outside for too long."

"If that suits you. Did you rest well at least?"

"Sort of. I feel like I overslept, though. It's kind of hard not to, with how little I have to do most of the time." I messed around with the bracelet on my wrist, one I got from Rin, and avoided looking at either Amachi or Kobayashi.

"I get it," Amachi says with a sip of his drink. "Say, what are the people around here like? I'm from the other side of town; I only come this way because the service is better than most places in my neighborhood or around work."

"A mixed bag. There's one old woman who complains about her husband often, and an awkward student that… well, he's rather socially inept, to put it honestly."

"Pff. What a way to put it."

"They're not bad, though. Ordinary people with ordinary lives, they probably come here for all the same reasons as you do. To unwind and maybe complain about their lives, if it so fits them. Most people only stay in places like this to get rid of their worries."

"That's right. I mean, I'm here on my day off to relax and talk to you again, since yesterday's conversation went so well."

The moment Amachi confessed that, I found myself almost beaming. Not often do people come to seek my company, at least not since Sumire had come and went out of my life. The mystery behind a man like this was intriguing, something I found myself longing for a little more than usual, with the hints of us being more similar than we think, I knew my view of things wouldn't be turned down by someone like him. Even then, though, I still couldn't help but have my own critiques. Such was the way I saw the world, and perhaps the way the world itself simply is. "I don't think too much of the people that come around," I continued from my earlier statements, "I find them all to be hollow, but a simple life is a life made easy."

"That sounds right, Miss. Some of us live complicated lives, and some of us don't. The bliss of a simple man is one the complicated man longs for at points, much like that friend of yours. Would you say she's a simple girl?"

"She tries to be," I croak out. "Rin's always seemingly happy, she only cares about making friends and expressing herself. But beneath the surface, there's something deeper, I'm sure of it."

"Interesting. Perhaps most people operate like her, too. But that facade of simplicity makes it awfully hard to connect."

"It does," I murmur. It felt odd to suddenly be understood like this. Amachi said everything slowly and deliberately, with a confidence I can only assume came from years of experience and misadventures in dealing with people. How odd, he was, someone so seemingly understanding of human nature yet unable to navigate his own social failures at points. Perhaps we weren't so dissimilar in that sense, as this plight I found myself in was a result of the same pitfall - understanding yet failing regardless. Amachi let out a quiet breath as he continued speaking, closing his eyes for a moment. He often did this when preparing to say something quite difficult, as if shielding himself from the reality of his own words.

"Reine also seemed as such. I loved her for her simplicity. But when we got together, suddenly she was riddled with problem after problem and she ended up being very complex. However, that only pulled us further apart. The person I thought I knew was much more complicated, and perhaps in that, she realized I knew she wasn't who she once was, and decided to pull the shutters again once someone newer came into the picture." Amachi's words filled the air with a deafening silence.

I only then broke the silence with a scoff. "Didn't think you'd still be talking about her."

"Oh, sorry, how rude of me." He clears his throat, adjusting his posture. As my plate is placed in front of me, Amachi turns so he's leaning in my direction, able to make better eye contact. "I understood back then, that you were right. A woman's world is complicated, but perhaps it's not only the life of a woman, but the life of a human that is complicated. The difference between us all is how much we understand those complexities, and how much they show. Only then, do you see and decide who's worth keeping around. Isn't that right, Miss Arima?"

"I don't know," I fibbed in the moment, avoiding making a conclusion. My stomach began to churn with an uncomfortable feeling; something akin to excitement, perhaps nervousness, maybe a little infatuation at this sudden interest in my thoughts and acknowledgement of the things I’ve learned to this point. My parents were also fairly complicated people. I still have yet to understand or think of why they could have simply let me go, but perhaps the circumstances around my existence grew to be burdensome. Perhaps the incessant pressure they placed on me and berating even until the last day I was with them was a result of a number of things they intended to hide from me as their child. However, I still couldn't find myself forgiving them, or even wanting to try and sympathize with the utter abandonment in not even trying to find me themselves, despite the clear evidence I had left that day in grabbing more of my belongings. I started to stare at the counter, examining the wear and tear of the wood, every moisture ring that left a film on the laminate, something seemingly impossible to clean, always leaving a mark of past patrons and the lack of coasters in the izakaya. It's almost as if Amachi noticed my sudden withdrawal from the conversation, as he turned away and went back to enjoying his meal without another word.

I can't remember how much time passed again before seeing Amachi again. We had begun having more conversations, more instances of talking and learning things about each other. He was someone with a great interest in games, puzzles, and machinery. The reason he took his job at Umbrella was because of his degree in college, one in biology, and his understanding of the human body as something akin to a machine. When I had asked him some questions, mostly pressing on my curiosities of why things were, he'd get into a long-winded explanation starting from ground one, and I would find my head spinning in confusion of the complicated mechanics of the body. But he seemed amazed by it every time. In turn, I'd share a little bit of my life one piece at a time. From what I remembered of my parents, to Rin and Sumire and what happened with Kobayashi. One night, he decided to sit with me by the convenience store I used to frequent, asking me about my bottle cap collection. After we had gone in to get drinks, he noticed I had stared at the bottle cap of a soda bottle for a few seconds before stashing it in my pocket.

"Miss Arima," he started, "Do you collect bottle caps often?"

"I do. I don't know how many I have by now, though."

"What made you start?"

"Rin suggested it to me. You know, my best friend. She collects tabs, and figured a way to pass the time and make a mark of the experiences I've had was to collect something. Well… that's how I've taken it, at least."

Amachi nodded. "That girl's interesting. Tell me a little more about her."

"Hm." I felt my throat close up for a moment, almost choking on my own spit as I tried to get anything about Rin out. The thought of her brought up a flurry of feelings, something so suffocating I found it difficult to recall her even in private moments. "She's… kind. We don't really see each other too often, but I find it nice that from day one she had always been so kind. We met in the bookstore down the road, where she wanted to find some romance novels, and was making quite a mess."

"Someone passionate about romance… are you?"

"Sort of. I like all books, but she was always so fixated on romance stories following her own failures into it. I started picking it up as well, but she was always more passionate about it."

"Does she have a job?"

"Maybe a few odd ones. She's on the other side of town often, perhaps picking up small gigs. She always has the money to get some new outfit, so I imagine her income is decent, but not enough for true stability."

"…How interesting. Is she good company?"

"As good as it gets for me, really. Though, I don't know if that'll ever change."

Amachi crosses his legs, moving a few inches closer to me. I move further away, until I was nearly off of the bench we sat on. "Well, you want change for yourself, right? Have you considered that maybe staying with the same people for a while is creating stasis?"

My throat tightened again. "A little," I croak out uncomfortably. To that dream I had again, no one I knew now was in it. No one was in that dream at all, but perhaps for me to get there, leaving this life behind was required. "That woman I used to know… the escort. She suggested I start traveling, since I would meet more people and experience things I'll never get to here."

"That can also happen if you simply leave the bounds of this street, Nakuru."

I froze as my first name was said. Amachi's voice said it so smoothly, speaking to me as if to comfort me through this tense moment. I couldn't understand why I felt so nervous. Mentioning Rin, talking about these things, the dream I had, all of these understandings, something about it all I couldn't relax in, I was getting more and more nervous, and the world suddenly felt upside down. Amachi then got to talking once more.

"As it stands now, I feel I've come to understand that those around you, as complicated as they are, they have flaws that are holding you back. Rin, she's a decent girl, kind and charitable… but her life is unreliable and unpredictable. You never know if she'll be there when you need her most. Kobayashi, as long as I've known the man, he's not bad either. However, he's grieving, and that makes him reckless as well. He moved too fast, didn't he?"

I agreed silently. Both of those were true. I found myself admitting that even Rin was pretty unreliable, with the months we'd spend apart before she'd show up again with no explanation to what she was doing, and how many secrets she kept. As much as I cared about her, I felt I was dealing with a shadow at times.

"That escort, too. Her name was Sumire?" Amachi continued, drinking from the bottle of beer he had in his hand. "Are you sure you should hang onto someone that disappeared so fast, without even telling you her real name? She's surviving as much as you are, and if you've yet to see her again, consider if that's a sign that maybe she's had her role in her life and won't reprise it. That's not to say they're all bad, though," he relaxes on the bench, reaching a hand towards me.

I refused.

"They're just a little too messy for someone who possibly desires stability in her life, and views the world with a hesitant lens. Look at how you just withdrew from me."

I look at Amachi, suddenly relaxing. He had a point. I could keep people like that in my life, but to keep them as pillars with their own problems and instability, I couldn't sustain myself on something like this lest they begin to take from me as well when I barely get a footing. I had already forged a distance between Kobayashi and I since what happened, and Rin was distant enough as-is with her mysterious ways. Amachi was the only one with consistency, something I longed for, and he seemed well put-together. For a moment, I considered it to be worthwhile to keep him around, even if just to learn from how he operates to see how I could get there, to finally see the life I envisioned for myself. The most stable people are not the ones who keep chaos around them, but those who let chaos sort itself and only focus on the messes they can clean up themselves. Amachi was one of those people, and there was a world of more of those people who could hold their own. Even his view of his brief look into chaos, through his former lover, was very grounded. "I withdrew just because I am not too fond of physical touch," I confessed. "Even the few times Rin has hugged me have been awkward. Don't take it personally."

"Not at all," Amachi affirmed.

After this interaction, things stayed about the same. Amachi started coming by less, perhaps only once a week, but he was a regular at this point. He'd often just walk and talk with me, and I began to open up a little more. Then, the gifts began. I knew there was some kind of intention behind the gifts, though I'd be reaffirmed that it was just an act of appreciation for my time. I received a couple of books, the occasional meal, little gifts that didn't last too long, but built rapport between Amachi and I. One night, he came in much later, after work, and immediately sought me out. "Nakuru," he said, "Let's talk for a while." One would have to believe this was the start of someone forging a tight bond, seeking out another, perhaps it could be love; people often find the adrenaline of connection to be addicting, something they'll chase after over and over until they have achieved a sense of ownership over the thing they wished to connect to, or something new and more entertaining comes in. Perhaps I was the most interesting thing to Amachi at this time, then, as he had continued to pursue me with new things to talk about.

"Sure," I would pass off, pulling my sleeves over my hands in a weak act of protection. At this point, Amachi had begun to attempt more obvious forms of connection, and I would reciprocate only within the bounds of what I found appropriate - falling short only of what I'd find acceptable with Rin. Keeping a few feet of distance soon became only a few inches, then we began exchanging drinks and pouring from one another's bottles in a fashion so which the surface wouldn't touch the other's lips, occasionally spilling onto our shirts or chins before laughing it off. He was careful never to comment on the messiness of my person, or the uncouth manner in which I'd do things in comparison to the expectations of a girl of my status, simply accepting that I occasionally messed up and would make a fool of myself. We had approached the same streetlamp far down the street that he usually took a moment to check his shoes, wiggling around the laces in a manner to feign securing his shoelaces, before continuing on his walk. However, this time, instead of checking his shoes, Amachi stared directly into the streetlamp for a moment before looking at me.

"How about we chat somewhere quieter?" Before I could recognize how my body was reacting, he was already starting to brace himself for my reaction. Amachi put his hands up, a smile on his face. He suddenly looked all too friendly in this light, clean and orderly teeth bared in a nearly too-perfect grin. "I know that's a bold request. You know how this works; I won't pretend that it's anything else to you. However, if you get uncomfortable at any point, you can say no, and simply leave. I won't chase after you or convince you to stay," Amachi tried to reassure me. I figured at this point, if he had wanted to do something in poor taste, he'd do so. Even the times in which he tried to get closer to me or hold my hand, I'd withdraw and he'd create distance between us. If he were a man of his word, although few in this world are, I could disagree and he would simply let it go. Someone of his caliber had so much to lose - he had no reason to be so foolish.

"Okay, lead the way, then." I murmured.

"Thank you," Amachi said back just as softly. He reached for my hand, in which I decided to take it this time, and only this time. With how dark it was outside, the world was cast in a shadow in which even the most prominent of people would find themselves lost, and in case I were to lose my glasses, I would be much more hopeless. Amachi seemed to take this notion well, as he held onto me tight, though after a few moments, he loosened his grip as sweat began to build between our palms and I tried to pull away to wipe it off. The streets this night were particularly quiet; nothing of note was happening, the world turning its eyes to the events to happen.

Soon, he had turned into a small apartment complex with thick walls, something quite uncharacteristic for this part of Shinjuku. Amachi opened the door to a small suite on the first floor. It was a rather clean apartment with few furnishings, as if pre-furnished for whoever was set to live there. I scanned the area for anything out of place; the area felt a little too clean, instead, extremely orderly for a space meant to be lived in.

"What a place," I commented.

"It was provided to me by the company. However, I had already bought a house in my younger years, so it was of no use to me. I just sleep here during periods of intense research," he spat out the explanation as if knowing I was turned off by the stark cleanliness of the place. Amachi then waves his arm towards a couch, inviting me to sit down with him. I didn't feel like moving quite yet, so I stared at it, but eventually I slowly made my way to it. It was gray, with only a few white and light blue pillows towards the ends of the couch. A kotatsu was a few feet in front of it, in which only a singular notebook was on the table next to a book with Umbrella's logo embossed on its spine. I felt somewhat unsettled in this place; mostly because it was new, as I hadn't ever noticed this building nor been inside any residence other than Kobayashi's atop the izakaya since the day I ran away, but in particular everything was frozen in time yet presented in a way as if to appeal to visitors. It was the kind of natural order you'd only find in furniture displays to convince you to put yourself into the space itself, and imagine yourself with the life you'd have should you buy and arrange your home like the display. A few minutes passed of Amachi getting himself comfortable and removing the outer parts of his work clothes before I spoke up again.

"I want to ask again. What do you actually want from me?" I pushed the question quietly, staring at the book while tracing its every detail.

"I told you already, Nakuru. Your time, your attention. That's what I want."

"You've had quite a lot of that. Are you sure there's nothing more?"

"…Well, if I had to be blunt about it, I eventually wanted all of you. Is that not the reason a man like myself would ask for the time of someone like you?" He admitted it rather honestly.

In that moment, I felt another pit in my stomach. Something worse than when Kobayashi confessed the same thing, burrowing a burning hole into my mind and body. I glared at my shoes, soon taking in as much detail as I could. The floors were made of interwoven chestnut planks, the walls a stark white, the front desk of the complex was a dark gray with a marble counter. Something told me to simply remember this moment, where I was and what I felt, in case I needed to recall the moment the world showed its ugly face to me once more. Amachi noticed the haze I began to enter, and soon rushed to my side. He held his hand onto my chest, feeling around my sternum for my pulse. His other hand was feeling my wrist for the same thing, trying to ease me into a comfortable position.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough with my intentions."

That was a lie. He was clear enough, surely. I had deluded myself into believing that it was anything but, to preserve my own feelings and the pain of making yet another rejection. I simply thought understanding the rules and intentions behind someone's actions meant I could win and keep some kind of connection, even if I didn't reciprocate. Yet, even with so much honesty on the table, I found myself to be fooled once again. "Sorry, no, I should be sorry, I just- I would rather be friends, that's all." I murmured between quick breaths. Amachi got up, preparing a cup of water for me. In the moment, I couldn't hear exactly what he was doing, but at some point, something clinked against the glass with a high-pitched 'ting' sound, and it surely had to be some kind of utensil hitting the side of the glass. When Amachi came back, he put the cup in my hand, instructing me to drink. Nothing smelled off, nothing tasted off about the water either. It was simply a glass of water in a clear, ornately engraved cup. I put it to my lips, taking a couple drinks of the water. Amachi put me to rest on the couch. I stared at the ceiling, taking deep breaths.

That was when things started to get hazy. The sound of the apartment, though already quiet, soon became entirely muffled. I could hear rustling, Amachi's voice softly speaking into a phone, and sounds of breathing over me a few times. I couldn't open my eyes for long if at all, simply lying there trying to grasp at consciousness, wondering what every sound and smell and feeling was around my body. At some point, I heard something hit the floor and shatter with a stomp. Things got colder, then warmer, and I could feel something touch at my thigh for a moment before a stinging pain surged through me, lasting a few minutes. I instinctively tried to move my legs or arms, and I felt my wrist push against something soft, before pushing a little further brought some of the force back to me. I groaned; what little strength I had in this moment was all I could get to try and stay awake, though it was not enough to see the situation. The warmth didn't last too long either, as I soon felt cold again, before a blanket was placed over my body.

Surely, in this moment, I was no longer able to control myself, and I could only hope that whatever happened while I was catatonic was something I could bear to face. When it was over, I could barely breathe or even try to fight out a couple of words to ask what was going on. The light burned my eyes when I could manage to even get a brief, blurry glance at the world, seeing only the hazy image of Amachi over me, holding his palm to my forehead. I had, for a moment, wanted to go back to when we were simply sharing our worldviews, and I wasn't burdened with anything more than giving up some of my time once or twice a week. This dreamless sleep I found myself in soon became one I never wanted to leave, lest I face the reality that awaits me once my eyes open again. The reality that I, Arima Nakuru, would soon become something different entirely.