Part 6
Something really interesting happened when I got outside the school. Since it looked like it was going to rain soon, I decided to go through the dead tree path because even though it was not the shortest, it had better streets to deal with when it comes to strong rain and brand shoes, had a decent convenience store and twice as many bus stops.
A certain someone was waiting for me under the tree.
I gulped, but made my best effort to keep a poker face when I saw Ryo. There it was; the special event I had been waiting for a while but would postpone forever if I had the chance.
Commence the last dance.
“Sucks how ‘I haven’t seen you in a while’ is not only imprecise, but an outright lie.”
“Keeping characters in the same environment for too long ruins dialog.” Her characteristic smile now looked tired and bittersweet. “Although one could argue we do have a lot to talk about, now that we’re leading our respective lives apart even on the internet.”
Ouch, strike one.
“It’s all about differences rather than similarities, isn’t it?”
“Except when it’s not. It’s not a rule, but a guideline. You don’t have to follow it by heart, just consider it if you are stray. There is one kind of situation when two of a kind manages to match perfectly in the same plot.”
“And in which situation one can find that example, Ryo?”
“Mutual antagonism.”
Strike two. To put these equal individuals on opposite corners and make them clash, that’s what Shiina Ryo believed would validate their existence if all else failed. It could work as an enforced acting method too.
“Only works when two have the will to duel, and as far as I’m concerned it’s not usual to find two individuals like that in real life, let alone with matching agendas.”
Concern painted all over her face.
“Yes, it’s unlikely. Unrealistic even. Too good to be true, I presume.” A sigh. “I’ve been really busy myself, too.”
“One figures. You sleep in class every day.”
Her eyes reminded me of a puppy’s.
“So you still watch over me.”
“On occasion. When I’m not sitting like a gargoyle on the top of the tallest building in a bat-themed costume, of course.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Actually, a comic book character.”
“I meant the ‘on occasion’ part.”
“Probably.”
“I miss you.”
Strike three.
“I know.”
I was out.
And then, as we stared at each other from around seven meters apart with all signs of cosmic levels of gravitational attraction in the air, rain fell upon us hot and fast as fictional narrative demanded.
She held up her iconic parasol, a paragon of perfection against the hazel skies.
“Quick Shin-tsu, get in he-”
“No need to.”
I had gotten my own retractable umbrella, which was hidden behind my back, and opened it above my head.
Shattering shock was in her eyes.
On one side we had Ryo with her white-laced parasol and optimism hoping it would all be solved with a smile. On the other side, just a few meters worth of street apart, there was I, pessimism incarnate, with a black protection of my own. No longer needing hers. No longer needing her.
Ironic echo.
The water surrounded us like minuscule blades in fast rhythm patterns, a staccato wall of hits that would be quite soul crushing if I hadn’t been thinking about all the possible outcomes and suffering from anticipation over and over again until I was no longer affected by it. It was still fairly easy to pinpoint the exact moment when her heart broke just by looking at the face I found so angelical.
Infinite emotional distance.
I wanted to tell her I missed her too, but to be entirely frank, at that stage I didn’t know if I really did. Even if I blame it on having several short-lived relationships of all sorts, the fact remained I could no longer trace the line between memory and longing. Only time would let me know if burning that bridge was the right thing to do or the biggest mistake of my life. Either way, things wouldn’t work out with her no matter what I did.
If those were the lies I needed to go on, I would craft them so perfectly I would believe in them at some point. I could never lose her if I abdicated, if I transfered all the care I had for her to a different target. It would not be Rin; that would be unfair to her, no matter what she said or I could try and rationalize. There was only so much of that burden I could let her carry.
I’d pour myself on the band, an immaterial concept that would keep my mind away from her. Because that, the moment I was living, was nothing but music; both the most important thing in the world and worthless, too. Not any variation of metal, not pop, not classical, not drum and bass, not reggae, not synthpop, not polka, not electro, not blues, not house, not rock, not hip hop, not folk, not dubstep, neither hardcore punk nor hardcore techno, not jazz and absolutely not ambient.
It was tango, the kind of sadness you could dance to. It started quiet and uneventful, with no more than hints of underlying energy just waiting to be spent. It grew steadily until it exploded into something so vibrant and in your face you couldn’t ignore it. Then it alternated between the dynamics of strong and weak with such moving sorrow that every little object involved enhanced the others. It reached peak after peak as a revolving door of catharsis until it faded out to nothingness and the hollow left in your heart was a bullet hole the size of the world.
You could as well call it ‘goodbye.’
“Oh. So you got one.” She tried to put a straight face and act rational, pretending it didn’t hurt her when I knew for a fact that every little thing always did. She cared about concepts like I did, after all. “I really need to rest a little, but if you want to come over I can postpone that or-”
“I have to go. See you.”
I didn’t run or cry, leaving as calmly as I could. Just walked in the most normal rainy-day way I could, at least considering how aware of it I was at the time. At some point I got home, which showed my feet knew the path well enough by then to keep their action independent from my absent mind.
From my window, I watched the rainbow alone.