Blessed Silence (Ruined Immediately)

By the time they finally settled the bill, Akio had tried several times to pay his share, but Kubo-san had already covered everything. No amount of arguing, reasoning or sheer force of will could change that. Through gritted teeth, Akio bowed stiffly in thanks while making a silent vow to somehow pay him back later.

After an exhausting round of hugs, handshakes, and drunken vows to “do this again soon” (over his dead body), Akio was finally free.

Walking home had never felt so good.

The night air was cool, the streets were quiet, and most importantly, Naomi’s voice was no longer drilling through his skull.

Blessed. Silence.

All he needed now was the warm embrace of his bed, eight hours of denial, and the unlikely miracle of his 8 a.m. meeting tomorrow getting cancelled.

He took a deep breath, shoulders dropping, the tension finally starting to—

“Oi, oi, Akio!”

He walked a little faster.

He had been successfully ignoring the second set of footsteps trailing behind him, but now that they had a voice attached, his moment of peace went up in flames.

A second later, hands gripped his shoulders. Then, in a fluid motion, Amaya clambered up his back, looping her arms around his neck like a backpack.

Akio stumbled forward, catching her legs before she dragged them both to the pavement.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he barked, twisting his head to give her the most withering glare he could muster.

Her grin was far too big for her face, her breath warm against his ear.

She pointed grandly down the road. “Forward, my noble steed!” she cried in the voice of a valiant knight.

“…Get off.” Akio said flatly, trying to shake her loose, but she had wrapped her legs snugly around his waist and didn’t budge.

“Nope.”

“Get. Off.”

“Too late,” Amaya said cheerfully, resting her chin on his shoulder. “I live here now.”

Akio groaned, but in the grand war of picking battles vs. conserving what little energy remained in his soul, he chose the path of least resistance.

Cutting his losses and what remained of his pride, Akio adjusted his grip, muttered something unprintable into the night, and trudged on.

His personal demon let out a pleased little hum and melted just a bit more into his shoulder, and because she was fundamentally allergic to silence, she did what she always did.

She talked.

About everything.

And nothing.

And then back to everything.

Akio tuned most of it out, but a few oddities cut through the fog. Something about how circus tents were probably cheaper per square foot than Tokyo real estate. Something else about outrunning a cheetah if she had roller skates and a particularly good tailwind.

And then, mid-ramble:
“It’s kind of weird, you know?”

“What is?” he asked, pulled sideways by the sudden dip in tone.

Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. It wasn’t intentional, not something she seemed to notice herself, but Akio felt it. It was as though she had wandered into a thought she hadn’t meant to say out loud.

“Going home.” She admitted meekly.

Akio’s brow furrowed. “What, the apartment?”

“Yeah, I guess.” She whispered, her breath skimming the curve of his neck.

He could understand that. Honestly, it was weird for him too.

“It’s just…” She sighed, pressing her cheek against his shoulder. “I don’t know, it’s dumb. Going back to the same place every day feels wrong. I can’t even bring myself to unpack my bags. Partly because I’ve never had to, but also because…”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “…because I don’t want to.”

“Do you regret coming here?” he asked.

She thought about it for a moment.

“I don’t regret coming here. Our apartment is pretty sweet, it’s perfect for aerial art, and it even came with my very own salaryman to bully.”

Akio made a noise of protest. She ignored it.

“And this city? It’s huge. It’s wild. I love it. There’s a thousand streets I haven’t danced down yet. It’s magic.”

“But I regret being sent here.” She added softly.

“The fall?”

She tensed.

“Juliya told you?”

There was no point pretending.

“Yeah.”

“Ah.” She waved it off or tried to. “No worries. It’s not that deep. I just... fell.”

She said it like she’d tripped on a crooked sidewalk, instead of plummeting from a height that could’ve shattered her spine.

“Sometimes,” she added, tone lighter than it had any right to be, “I feel like I’m still falling. Like I never stopped. Just…whoosh, straight down, forever.”

Akio didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. The strain in her voice was loud enough for both of them. So was the way she forced it back behind a smile too big and a voice too chipper.

“My parents freaked out; the audience freaked out. Everyone acted like I died or something. It really wasn’t that bad. Talk about dramatic.”

It was a lie, a bold-faced, teeth-gritting lie, but Akio didn’t call her on it.

“They think I was reckless,” she continued. “That I took a dumb risk and now I need to ‘reevaluate my priorities.’”

Akio’s jaw clenched, because, in fairness… they probably weren’t wrong.

“They said I should take some time away from the circus. Get some proper training, explore other interests. Like I’d suddenly wake up one day and decide I wanna be an accountant, or a tax attorney, or something,” she mocked. “Can’t you just see me in a little grey cubicle somewhere? Dying inside? What a dream come true.”

He didn’t laugh. Because even though she was clearly joking, even though the image of her filing quarterly returns in a clown suit was kind of absurd, he understood what her parents were trying to do.

They wanted her to slow down, to get an education, to at least consider a different life, one where she wasn’t constantly risking her bones and her breath and her everything for the sake of applause.

Proper education was step one of his own life plans, the thought of her not taking that step felt borderline irresponsible.

Akio agreed with them, but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted to hear and probably not what she needed to.

“…I think they regret raising me in the circus.” she said suddenly.

The words were small, like they had curled in on themselves, ashamed to have escaped her lips.

“They used to call it a privilege, you know?” she continued. “Said I was lucky. Said most kids never get to see the world like I did. Learn what I did. Fly like I did.”

She stopped herself, before choaking out a broken chuckle. “But now I think they feel guilty, like they screwed me over, like maybe they should’ve stuck me in a normal school, given me a normal life. One with math homework and PTA meetings and… I don’t know. Football games.”

Amaya was quiet for a beat, long enough for Akio to wonder if she was done talking, or just trying not to fall apart mid-sentence. 

She took a deep breath and gave his shoulder a light smack.

“Ugh, listen to me,” she groaned, flopping dramatically like she was trying to throw herself off his back. “I sound so depressing.”

Akio stopped in his tracks, thrown off balance by the sudden emotional U-turn.

“That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Yes! I’m way cooler than this,” she insisted, wriggling slightly on his back. “I’m fun and exciting and mysterious—”

“You’re a headache.”

“You love it.”

“I resent it.”

“You didn’t drop me.”

“That can still change.”

She gasped. “Akio! You wouldn’t dare.”

He sighed, so tempted to just unhook her legs and let gravity do the rest.

“Why are you like this?” he groaned.

“You mean charming? Lovable? An absolute delight?”

“I was thinking menace, but sure, let’s go with that.”

She tightened her arms around his neck. “Akio, my beloved steed, if you truly wanted me gone, I’d already be face-first on the pavement.”

“Give it another five minutes.”

She giggled, as if she hadn’t just spilled pieces of herself into the night air a moment ago. The warmth of it raised goosebumps across his skin.

He couldn’t help but be impressed by the way she bounced back. The way she threw herself forward with nothing but gumption and glitter before her past could grab her by the ankle.

Akio sighed, hitching her up a little higher. “Just shut up and hold on.”

She leaned in, lips near his ear. “Do you think if I do a backflip off your shoulders right now, I’d stick the landing?”

Akio rolled his eyes.

“If you try, you’re sleeping outside tonight.”