Caleb - Maybe A Friend?

I did not mean to overhear her scolding the cats. Truly, I didn’t.

One morning silent morning, I was designated to help out with the cafe by the head priest to get used to speaking the language with locals.

The moment I arrived, Miho-san told me to grab some boxes from the back of the cafe right away. I had not even managed to put my guitar down. I walked around the corner and froze.

Aika was already there, standing in the sunlight, pink hair glowing faintly at the edges, hands on her hips as she glared down at the cats. I just keep accidentally intruding on her like this.

‘You traitors,’ she hissed softly. ‘Even this week? I got you better food now. How dare you still abandon me for him?’

My heart stopped. Him?

‘He’s not even that special,’ she continued, stabbing a finger at the air. ‘Okay, fine, he feeds you. And sings. And whatever, he’s tall. But he is not your mother. I am your mother.’

One of the cats meowed defensively. Aika scoffed.

‘Oh don’t give me that. I raised you. I fed you. I let you stay at my home during winter and you repay me by worshipping a church man? Really? Him? That guy?’

I muffled a nervous laugh. ”That guy?” Me?

I didn’t know whether to step out or die behind a trash can.

‘But,’ she muttered begrudgingly, ‘yes, he has nice hands, fine. The way he plays guitar is so suave. And his voice is hmmm… fine. And maybe he smells nice. Whatever.’

I nearly choked holding back my carbon dioxide. I smelled nice?

I considered announcing myself then, but she kept talking and I felt rude intruding into her private talk time with the cats.

I should just come back later…

‘He’s probably some sort of angel hybrid. Middle of the road handsome. Too charming. The kind of man who ruins everyone’s day accidentally. A walking distraction…’

I pressed a hand to my burning face. She thought I was handsome? Ruinously so?

I didn’t know how to breathe anymore. 

She sighed, ‘but he’s not for me. Friend or anything.’

And suddenly the scolding wasn’t funny anymore. I stepped forward then, clearing my throat. She jumped so hard one of the cats leapt out of her arms like a launched missile.

‘O-oh!” she stammered. ‘I—I didn’t hear you—how long—when—‘

Her face turned cherry red.

‘I just got here,’ I lied. Forgive me Lord. It was a necessary act of compassion. Lest this girl combust and get sent to you immediately. 

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she was too flustered to interrogate. I held out the boxes.

‘I was to help the cafe for the morning.’ I explained.

The cats circled my feet again, traitors to their core. Aika glared at them.

‘Don’t come to him now! Stay with me! Loyalty, please!’

I couldn’t help but laugh. She froze as she looked at my face. As if my laughter was something dangerous for her.

I crouched down to pet one of the cats. ‘You’re very devoted,’ I told it.

‘I’m telling you, they’re not loyal,’ she muttered in Japanese.

‘I think they’re loyal,’ I said in English.

Aika swallowed slowly. As if deciding whether to respond or not. Her head tilted the slightest bit.

‘They are not loyal,’ she replied in surprisingly good English.

I smiled. ‘You speak very well.’

She shook her head quickly. ‘No. Not really.’

‘You do,’ I insisted softly. ‘Maybe we can practice together sometime? Just for a few minutes, whenever I am around the cafe, like today, if that was fine with you.’

Her hands curled slightly at her sides, like she didn’t know where to put them.

‘Maybe…’ she whispered. 

That tiny maybe again. A door barely cracked open, but open nonetheless.

She bent down to set the bag of bread on the ground and the motion made her sleeve slide back for half a second. Just long enough to see the faint, healed-over edges of something that didn’t belong on someone so gentle. Not fresh bruises, but some marks of a life that had not always been kind.

She tugged her sleeve down immediately. I pretended not to see. I didn’t look again, but my chest ached.

‘Aika?’ I asked softly. ‘Are you alright?’ Yeah, nah. I couldn’t ignore it after all. 

She stiffened when she realized I saw it. Pure panic flashed through her eyes.

‘No,’ she said too quickly. ‘I mean, yes. I mean, I’m fine.’

She wasn’t fine. Even her voice backed away from itself.

I didn’t push. Didn’t pry. Didn’t step closer. Instead, I sat on the bench beside the cats and tapped the seat gently.

‘You can sit,’ I murmured. ‘Only if you want to.’

Her eyes flicked to the seat. To me. Back to the door.

‘Um.. I have to…’

Then she sat. Not too close, not too far, just enough that I could feel her presence. I took out the guitar from behind me.

‘I’m not going to sing loudly,’ I said softly. ‘Just practicing.’

She exhaled slowly.

I played the chorus again, her revised version. It sounded even better this morning. She didn’t look at me, but her shoulders finally relaxed. 

‘You were right,’ I said quietly. ‘The lift was exactly what the melody needed.’

She swallowed and hesitated before responding. ‘It matches your voice better,’ she murmured.

‘Thank you.’

Tender silence stretched between us as I played just chords on the guitar. Mostly hymns. Barely being audible, she eventually hummed to the tune. A harmony that slipped between the notes like it always belonged there.

Even though yy breath caught, I managed to follow her hum with a chord. She went speechless after realizing what she had done.

‘Sorry… sorry… I didn’t mean to. Forget it, please forget it, I’ll go.’  Her face flamed red.

‘Aika.’

She stopped.

‘This is beautiful,’ I said softly. ‘Don’t run from something beautiful.’

She bowed her head. Her hands trembled slightly.

‘It’s ok. We can just sit down. We don’t have to talk.’

I didn’t crowd her. Didn’t reach out. I simply played, and she listened. Her breathing steadied slowly. Minute by minute. Note by note. 

When I ended the verse, she whispered, ‘Why do you always pray? Even when no one’s watching?’

I smiled gently. ‘Because prayer isn’t for being seen.’

She looked at her hands.

‘Do you ever pray for yourself?’ she asked.

‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Do you?’

She didn’t answer. Her throat moved like the truth was stuck there.

‘I can pray with you,’ I offered softly. ‘If you’d like. Not for anything heavy. Just for peace.’

She hesitated, before barely noticeably, nodded.

Thank you Lord.

I closed my eyes. She didn’t close hers, but that was fine.

I prayed softly.

‘Father, thank You for today. For the small joys You hide in ordinary places. For courage that grows quietly. For people who carry more than they show. Please bring peace to the hearts that need it most. Please fill us with love and forgiveness.’

Her breath hitched faintly. I continued.

‘And for Aika… please let her feel safe. Even for a moment.’

I opened my eyes to her wiping her tears away.

‘S-sorry,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t apologize,’ I said. ‘Tears are honest. Honest things don’t need apologies.’

She looked me straight in the eye and something shifted. Like the first hint of trust bloomed in her. 

‘I have to go work. Something.’ She stood abruptly, cutting our eye contact.

The cats watched her dash into the cafe, then looked back at me meaningfully. ‘You’re doomed.’