The Death and the history lessons

Strange words to say, honestly, right?
They’re not the kind of thing you plan to say. There’s no ‘right’ moment for them—they just float there. You grab them and let them go.

On the other hand, I have to admit I wanted to sound cool in front of her.
I wanted to ask how she was feeling.
I wanted to ask how she saw the world now.

Thinking about it more deeply, she knew everything about me, down to the smallest detail—not because she was omniscient, but because ever since we met, she’d done nothing but poke around in my brain, metaphorically, of course. In contrast, I didn’t know much about her. Maybe because there wasn’t ‘much more’ to know.

Maybe that’s why I decided we’d have a day like two normal people.
Because maybe we’ll become two people, but never normal. Or because maybe she’ll never become human.

I hate to admit it, but making promises in the heat of the moment never leads to anything good, and I had no idea how I was going to make Sayo want to live.
I don’t think it’s something you can just say.
Truth be told, I had more questions than answers.

“A Death, Eiji?” I heard her ask, giving me a headbutt in the back before catching up to walk beside me.

“That’s what I said.”

“Which one?” she asked with fake curiosity.

“Don’t push it, Aranara.”

“Hah, I already know the answer anyway.”

“Then why ask?” I replied with a sigh, giving her a light shove.

“Uh… just curious to see how direct you could be.”

I think, sometimes—no, almost always—we hear but don’t listen. That’s how a lot of things go over our heads.
Most are trivial, but those trivial things complete little puzzles.

The streets opened up like veins. There were parts of the town she didn’t know and places I hadn’t visited since I came here on vacation as a kid.
I tried to show her the town shrine, but her enthusiasm dropped to negative numbers when she saw the number of steps we’d have to climb.
Part of me was grateful for that. Too many steps.

We passed by the ‘crooked tree,’ barely noticing it. Instinctively, I ran my hand over the mark on my neck, but I didn’t feel anything.
I’m not entirely sure yet, but I’d like to say it belongs to the past now.

I found out Aranara was really talkative when you gave her some space.
She told me about how Socrates stood firm in his convictions as the hemlock poisoned his body.
She talked about Yukio Mishima’s final moments and how, to her, it still didn’t count as suicide but as an act of preserving honor.
Wardell Gray—she didn’t want to say much about him, just that she wasn’t paying attention when it happened.Thousands of years meeting people for mere moments—moments far from leaving fond memories.

[Did you really never feel anything?]

From the most iconic poets like Gérard de Nerval to complete nobodies… like me.

[When did you want to ‘resign’?]

I could be wrong, but I think I must be the worst on that list. Not out of self-centeredness, but because all this time, I’d done nothing but force her to watch me try to kill myself over and over.
Guilt? No.
Regret? Probably.

Noon turned to afternoon. We didn’t do much—she told me her stories, I told her mine. We wandered through the town center, which was starting to fill with people. Every now and then, some turned in our direction because, sure, I was lost in the moment, but that didn’t change the fact that, technically, I was talking ‘alone.’

“Aranara, let’s go this way.”

“My legs hurt… ugh…”

“Come on, don’t make me drag you.”

“My legs hurt, Eiji…” It sounded like a tantrum again as she walked like her spine was made of jelly.

It was one more step, in several senses.
Human exhaustion.
Human pain.
If there was one thing I did know about her, it was how stubborn she could be—or rather, how whimsical she could be. So I had no choice but to take her hand and make her follow me to a small shop on the first floor of a mall.

[I’m lying. There were plenty of other options, but I think we’re at the part where I can admit I just wanted to hold her hand.]

“Eiji… ugh…” She walked looser and looser, practically a green-clad jellyfish at this point. “…my legs…”

“Don’t exaggerate, it’s not that bad. Look,” I said, pointing to a glass storefront.

“Manipulator…”

“The worst.”

“A Machiavellian mind…” she said, laughing as she approached the glass.

“Did you meet him?”

“Nope, not him.” Her eyes were scanning the shop’s interior. “It’s not spring yet.”

“Thought we could get a head start. Plus, buying off-season is cheaper.”

“You gonna buy me something cheap, Eiji?” she said, mimicking the tone of a soap opera diva.

“I’m gonna buy you what I can afford,” I replied, laughing.

“As long as it looks good on me…”

“No doubts there.”

“I’ll need shoes if you get a dress,” she said, pretending not to hear.

“Uh…”

“Maybe a hat would suit me. It’s windy in this town.”

“So demanding…”

“Hey, it’s my first time in a situation like this—are you gonna blame me for wanting to make the most of it?”

[My first time too… and not because you’re a Death.]

The passing crowd, their glances, and the murmurs I couldn’t quite make out were starting to get to me, though I kept it to myself. It’d been happening all day.
At the temple stairs.
When we passed the old lady’s shop, me practically crouching to avoid explaining why I’d skipped work again.
When we walked down the main street.

I just shot glares back at passersby, like I was firing lasers from my eyes. Amid the crowd, I saw Sayo standing at the corner of the first floor. The afternoon had settled in, so she was probably taking advantage of the golden hour to snap photos.

From what I could see before we got closer, it was an old camera—one of the early digital ones. I knew the brand well but I won’t name it, for commercial issues.

“Sayo!” I called, waving my arm.

“Four-eyes!” Aranara added at the end. As we walked, it seemed the ‘lion’ was calm this time—she spoke in a surprisingly friendly tone.

Three steps. Just three steps, and both Aranara and I froze in place.

“Oh! Aranara and her cat!” Sayo said, surprised, snapping a photo before we could react.

“Why am I ‘her cat’?” I asked, though I was more focused on the camera lens pointed at us. No, more than that—on her hands holding the camera.

“Cats have nine lives—guess the nickname fits,” she said, instantly noticing my eyes fixed on her hands. She stopped talking and walked toward us. “How’s the day going?” she asked. No matter what, her voice never lost that soft tone.

I turned my head, needing to know if Aranara had seen the same thing I did, but no luck. She was glued to the shop window like a sticker, probably making a mental list of demands. My wallet was going to hurt later.

“How’re your hands?” I turned my attention back to Sayo.

“Straight to the point, huh…” She laughed. “Steady as two pillars,” she said, letting the camera hang from her neck, extending her hands palms-up.

“How’s that possible?”

“If I had to lie, I’d say I’m testing an experimental drug for neurological disorders…” she said, lightly rubbing her index finger against her lips. “If I had to tell the truth… well, then we should grab a drink. It’s not something I can explain just like that, especially not in front of her.” She nodded toward Aranara, still lost in the window full of next season’s dresses.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” I said, glancing at both of them.

“Huh? No, you shouldn’t—not from my perspective, at least.”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, Sayo.”

“I agree, but I think our perspectives are gonna align, even just a bit.”

I rubbed my face, like I was trying to peel off the exhaustion stuck to my skin, and agreed with a gesture. There was a café right below the shop, so I figured I’d let Sayo go first while I explained to Aranara, just in case.

“Hey…”

“Eiji, I can’t just have one dress for the whole season!” Her head looked like it was trying to phase through the glass.

“You’ve been wearing that parka for a month and only complained two days ago…”

“I’m e-vol-ving,” she said, squinting at me. “I need to adapt my outfit… but there are so many… it’s hard to choose… so you’re gonna have to work more hours with the old lady, you know?”

Her comment pulled a laugh out of me—too loud, though since people had been staring at me like I was nuts all day, I didn’t care much. “I’ll work Sundays too.”

“Don’t Sundays mean strolls?”

“Where’d you get that?”

“From the movies.”

I sighed. “Listen, I’m heading to the café downstairs. Gotta talk to Sayo about something.” As soon as I finished, I braced for impact.

“Okay, bring me something back?” I replayed her sentence in my head a hundred times in a second—word for word, tone, gestures. She wasn’t upset, unlike the other day at home.

“Just like that?”

“You want me to make a scene, Eiji?” she asked, like it was a challenge.

“No, not really, but it’s what I expected.”

“That hurts, Eiji…” she said, pretending to wipe invisible tears. “Go talk to four-eyes. I’ll wait here, or at the other shop, or the one across the street.”

“So I’m gonna have to hunt you down all over the center…” A smile slipped out. “Alright, I’ll see you later then.” I said, heading for the stairs.

“Oh! Eiji…”

“What?”

“Uhm… ah…” She pulled the hood of her parka over her head, her face completely hidden, like burrowing into a sleeping bag. “I... like my cat...”