A distant star

Truth must be told, I can’t help but wonder why Marygold Leafeyorb had these words at the cocktail reception if to half-retract them thereafter. He seems to regret the phrasing though he did not cancel his comment. If I wished to express my thoughts, I would do it without fogging them into minced words. If I thought it would hurt more than else I would not say it at all.

     Nevertheless, people who are used to speaking and using words simply forget to fear the power that they hold. That is understandable. It is as natural as breathing for them. In most cases, their meaning hit them later, when it is too late, when having become part of world’s gear they have elicited tangible reactions right before their eyes.

     Because of that, since we have sat down and sip tea, the director seems ill-at-ease. I wanted it to be clear that I don’t hold a grudge against him which is why I said it to him earlier. Though, despite my precautions, he remains silent. It is not like him.

     Or is something else on his mind?

     Finishing my own cup of chamomile tea, I stand from my seat and approach Marygold seemingly lost in thought. He doesn’t even notice my silent move until I am in front of him.

     As he raises his head to take a wondering glance at me, I gently lean in closer and before he even has the time to unseal his lips I sit on his lap.

     Slowly, I turn my head to take a look at Marygold, to gaze into his selenian eyes.

“…”

     Widened, they stare at me. He doesn’t utter a single thing, as if I had stolen his voice from him. I suppose he may be kind of startled since he didn’t see me coming closer. Maybe should I try to elaborate until he grounds himself.

“When my mother was still alive, she used to take me on her lap whenever I got sad.”

     With a soft whisper, I share this sliver of memory with him, my hands intertwined against my own lap.

     Strangely enough, he seems unable to take his eyes off me.

“Aurora…” He mutters.

     I tilt my head to the side and realize my acts may seem awkward.

“Though… It is not me who is feeling down. It would be better if we reversed our positions.”

“Huuh?! What are you- I won’t.”

     Averting his gaze, Marygold’s cheeks take a more coloured tint.

     I suppose he is concerned about our weight difference. Come to think of that, it may be more convenient if we stay like this.

“On another note, I don’t feel particularly sad. There’s no reason for you to hold concern.”

     His tone is more calm and I raise a hand to touch his chin from my fingertips, just enough to make him look at me anew.

“Don’t hide things that will only burden you.”

     Is what I say to Mr Leafeyorb in a delicate tone, almost as if careful not to hurt him.

     His gaze softens.

“You’re truly making it difficult to hide anything from you, you know?”

     His fingers curling round my hand are a gentle reminder of that warmth I missed.

“I merely don’t want you to get too attached. My work can be…” He trails off. “Dangerous.”

“The amount of time you spend at it is, indeed.”

     That remark, simply based on my observations, makes him chuckle.

“A workaholic, is that how you see me?”

     Actually, who would not? This question would be more suited. Another one being how else a director’s post could be dangerous. Does anyone threaten him? That doesn’t seem likely nowadays.

“Well, I suppose you aren’t wrong about that. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure this world becomes a place even better than it already is.” Marygold adds on a more serious tone, his thumb tracing invisible patterns against my palm. “Including for you.”

     The words hang in the air between us, until a neutral voice disperse them all of a sudden.

“Miss Andersen, just to let you kn-” Jaana stops mid-sentence.

     Having barely crossed the threshold of the room she stands still, staring at us with a stern, judgemental pair of sapphire eyes.

“…”

     A stare she holds longer than necessary before simply turning her back to us and leaving the room.

     As I focus back on the director, he seems to hold back a laugh.

     If one thing hasn’t changed since I met him, it is doubtlessly my lacking sense of humour. Nevertheless, they are other things more important on my mind.

“What is the Jubokko?” I ask, recalling the conversation I overheard between Kodama and the director.

     His eyes widen ever so slightly. This caution slipping into his demeanour… I have to know.

“Is this what endangers you? Is that… what took your father’s life?”

     Jubokko… A word that doesn’t hold any sense for me. I have only guessed so far this is somehow a part of his work.

     I don’t add anything else but the way I gaze at Marygold speaks for me.

“Tell me the truth.”

“…So you heard it.”

     A thoughtful expression having shapes over his features. He closes his eyes. Not long, though. For a mere, brief moment.

“It is kind of a project brought to life by my father. A well-kept secret, almost no one knows about it. And thus it should remain.” He raises his eyes to meet mines. “My father’s blood was enough. No one else’s should tint this project.”

“And yours?”

     He pushes my hand away from his face before releasing it.

     Why should he carry on such a hazardous project? Why, since the world is already a welcoming place?

“I have to accomplish what he didn’t have the time to. …Please, let me stand up.”

     The subtle firmness in his tone makes me comply with his request against my will. But I can’t just let him go and as Marygold stands up I catch the hem of his forest-green jacket. I don’t say a thing. Merely holding his gaze when he takes a side glance at me.

“Don’t worry. What I said is one thing, but I am close to succeed. Speaking of the worst-case scenario doesn’t involve it happening. And,” he turns to face me, putting a reassuring hand at the top of my head. “when my situation is trouble-free, I’ll consider spending more time with you. For the time being, I need to return to Ōnomori before the night falls. Right?”

     As much as I like this gesture, each time he does it I have the feeling that I am not taken seriously. My words are acknowledged, but they don’t actually reach him. He is here, right in front of me. Despite this closeness, it is like he lives in another galaxy, light years away.

“How can I even reach you?”

     After taking a brief glance at the window, I try to say something. However, Marygold already heads to the door, leaving the room.

     Following his steps, I head as well to the entrance door.

     Despite my attempts to catch his attention, Marygold doesn’t stop before facing the door. When the latter opens automatically, he widens his eyes.

     Armies of snowflakes are throwing themselves into the merciless wind. Lashing the land already buried in snow, it is ready to bury anything that would dare to venture out there.

“I tried to warn you… with the blizzard, you will not be able to leave.”

     And that was probably what Jaana initially intended to inform me about.

***

Needing to contact Kodama, the director let me soon after the dinner. He went to one of the guest rooms, another one being occupied by Jaana who couldn’t either return to the village.

     Comfortably installed on my bed, reflections of the holographic screen flicker upon my features as I watch episodes of ‘Magical Memories’, Niji nestled against me.

“Fumiko! You have to run away. He… He’s too strong.” The girl’s voice echoes as the scene unfolds.

     Another girl with long, green hair has been holding back until now. She seems scared, trembling.

“I- I won’t. Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

“Don’t be silly! You-”

     Until she can finish her sentence, an evil laughs echoes and her eyes narrow. Two giant hands shaped in a dark matter are thrown upon her, aiming to impale the pink-haired girl.

     Though, instead of ripping her to death, they are stopped by Fumiko. She has bounced to stand in front of her friend and cast a magic spell.

     As the hands dissolve, she turns a glance back at the other girl.

“I wish to protect you as much as I wish to protect the world.”