Rhetorical Questions

I’ve always wondered what makes something beautiful. Like, what is the standard? Apparently, beauty means something that satisfies the aesthetic craving of a person. But is that all there is to it?

Aren’t we missing something important?

Like something that defines what beauty really is?

***

I massage my forehead trying to ease a sharp pain that has suddenly appeared.

“Hey, what are you thinking of?”

A soft, feminine voice rings behind me. I turn around and see a girl wearing a school uniform.

She tilts her head and asks once more.

“What are you thinking of?”

Her silver hair, fixed into a ponytail, sways gently as the wind blows. The sunset behind her paints a blood red on the canvas, which was once sky blue.

She takes a step closer.

“What are you thinking of?”

The third question rings differently as I smell her perfume. Her femininity emanates from her pure and defenseless body.

“Hey, if you’re always approaching random people like this, someday, you might end up dead.”

I scoff.

“Hahaha. Great one, uncle.”

She gives me a thumbs-up.

“I wasn’t kidding, y’know.”

“We all die anyway, y’know.”

Her tone darkens, and her voice suddenly fills with seriousness.

She dispels the atmosphere with a single clap and smiles.

“Care to join me?”

“Look, this is like the intro to some kind of murder fiction where I’m the murderer, and you’re the victim. Can’t you just take a hint and stop doing these things? Don’t you care for your life?”

I look at her in disbelief.

“Surely, you wouldn’t want a young woman like me walking back home alone when it’s already this dark?”

“Look, the sun just set.”

“Come on, just take the hint!”

“What the hell?! Are you picking me up?! What is this reverse shit?”

“No! It’s because I’m scared!”

“Fine. Fine. But I’m leaving immediately after.”

***

When she said she was scared, she wasn’t lying. She wasn’t scared of the dark. She was scared of the whole idea of going home. Her house wasn’t even that far off from the riverside park where we met. But as the number of the steps we take grows, the quieter she becomes. And when we’re in the block where her house is, she bids me farewell and walks home.

Weird situation, sure.

But it doesn’t end there.

That riverside park is my bastion. I always go there after work to get some fresh air and hopefully get some kind of inspiration that would help me with writing. But for some reason, she always shows up at the same time.

Always asking me the same question.

“Hey, what are you thinking of?”

Her tone never changed, her smile the same; it’s like déjà vu every time. Every. Fucking. Time. It ended up being a call for help.

A cleverly masked “help me please.”

Then one day, she stood in front of me. Speechless and out of breath.

She stood there like an awkward bird. Don’t ask me what an awkward bird looks like, just imagine it.

“Cat got your tongue?”

I jokingly say and laugh.

She shoots me a look of disappointment.

“Ugh, shut up.”

She rolls her eyes and sits beside me.

She wants to say something. She just doesn’t know how.

Hugging her legs, she hums a familiar tune. I want her to open up, so I mirror her.

“You know, I like humming this song.”

She says as she stretches her legs.

“Oh, really? Why?”

“It somehow makes me feel like I’m the only one in the world. My brain just shuts down, and y’know, I just lose myself to the tune.”

“It’s the power of music.”

I smile and close my eyes.

“Yeah, the power of music.”

She leans her head on my shoulders.

“Hey, stop that. I don’t want to be arrested.”

“Psh, shut up. I’m a graduating high school student. Totally legal.”

“Yeah, right.”

We both laugh at the stupidity of our conversation.

We talked about anything that came into our minds and didn’t realize that it was late. She stands up and says the same thing again.

“Hey, what are you thinking of?”

She smiles and extends her hand.

***

Today is different. It’s the first time I'm dropping her off in front of her house.

“Thank y-“

Just before she could finish her sentence, yelling happened from inside her house. Her body stiffens, and she hugs herself. Her body visibly shakes in terror.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

“Y-yea. Just a little commotion. Haha…”

She laughs nervously. I didn’t pry. I didn’t want to be involved in anything too troublesome. So after saying goodbye, I went on my way home.

The next day is pretty much the same. She doesn’t say much and just stares blankly at nothing. She seems so deep in thought that I don’t want to disturb her, so I just sit there and admire her. I never thought a guy like me in my early twenties could be so enchanted by her beauty.

This took me back to the first time I met her. The definition of beauty. At what point does something become beautiful? I think I finally found the answer to that.

I lean closer to her and whisper.

“What’re you thinking of?”

“Uwa!”

Her body jolts to attention, and she looks at me with a flushed face.

“Ugh, I hate you.”

I laugh at her surprised face.

“So? What are you thinking?”

I smile at her.

“Hmm, my family.”

She sighs.

“Does it have something to do with yesterday?”

“Yeah. It’s just…”

She takes her time, not knowing how to start the topic.

“It’s fine, you don’t need to force yourself.”

“No, I want you to know.”

“Then I’m here to listen.”

I give her a comforting smile, which she replies with one of her own. She sighs deeply and prepares herself.

“The family I’m in is not my real family.”

She takes a deep breath and continues.

“I’ve… been lost in marriages, you see.”

“What does that mean?”

“Imagine this, your mom remarried. So you have a stepfather, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

I nod.

“Then, your mom left. Leaving you with your stepfather. Which married another person. At that point, just who is the woman my stepfather married? Is she my step-stepmother?”

It’s a rhetorical question. A question that needs no answer, but a question that needs to be asked.

She continues with her story.

“Repeat that cycle a lot of times, and that basically explains my situation.”

She hugs her legs and buries her face in her chest.

“That means the people you’re with are not even related to you in any way?”

“Mhmm.”

She nods.

“How about your other relatives?”

“They were against the first marriage, so they basically disowned them. Both father’s side and mother’s side. They didn’t even acknowledge me.”

“I’m assuming that goes for the several other 'step-grandparents' you had?”

“Yeah, who’d want to do something about someone they don’t even know. I’m basically just a burden from their previous relationships. A thorn of some sort stuck in their neck.”

The conversation didn’t advance from there. It took me some time to swallow everything that I’ve heard. A unique situation that had never occurred to me to be possible. Yet here I am.

***

Romantic relationships are very hard for me. The uncertainty of the future of the relationship repels me from committing to one. But this time, I want to do something different. I want to see where this one goes. I want to know what will happen next.

We continue meeting up even when it’s days off from school or work. It’s become routine at this point. Sit on the same bench, look at the same sunset, and talk about stupid things that pop into our minds.

Life goes on.

It doesn’t take me a while to realize that it’s been getting worse for her, though. She starts wearing longer skirts and longer shirts. She even stops tying her hair and lets it all loose.

“I’m thinking of running away.”

She utters under her breath.

“And go where?”

I respond.

“I don’t know.”

She sighs. The wind blows hard as if answering her.

“How about my place?”

I offer. Her eyes meet mine, and she smiles.

“I didn’t expect you to offer your place.”

“Well, you have nowhere to go, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She chuckles cutely as she hugs her legs once more. She really likes doing that, huh.

“Just don’t expect anything grand. It’s just a small apartment.”

She laughs at my explanation.

“No need to be that serious about it, I’m just thinking about it. Not sure if I’ll actually do it. But you know-”

She digs her pockets for something.

“Give me your number.”

She waves her phone in front of me. I just stare at her.

“Ugh, come on.”

She pouts.

“Hey, no puppy eyes. That’s unfair.”

“Heh, I’m a girl who knows how to use her charms.”

“Ugh, fine.”

I groan as I reach for my phone. She quickly snatches it from my hands and opens it. I laughed as she realized her mistake.

“I mean for real? You really think I wouldn’t have a passcode on my phone?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

She gives it back to me, and I enter the passcode. I take her empty hand and hand my phone back to her.

“Here you go, miss dumbass.”

“Ughh.”

She groans in response as she grumpily types her phone number into my phone. After doing so, she hands me my phone, still puffing her cheeks.

I grab my phone and poke her left cheek. She lets out a ‘pfwoooo’ sound as her cheeks deflatten.

This kind of cuteness should be illegal.

She smiles at me, stands up, and utters the magic words.

“What are you thinking of?”

She offers her hands, and I accept.

But this time, I have an answer.

“You.”

***

She didn’t say anything on the way to her house, though I could see her face being visibly flushed. It was the same thing, I saw her enter her house, I left and headed to my own. The moment I arrive home, I receive a text.

“You home already?”

I look at the sender’s name.

Yuki, huh.

“Yeah, just got home actually.”

I reply.

***

I just realized, this is another outlet for us to communicate. So even after we meet by the riverside park, we can still talk. I did tell her not to message me at a certain time because that’s my writing time. She agrees, but sometimes she still messages me anyway, and I get distracted. Not like I hate it though. Chatting with her is always welcome to me.

She is the light to my darkening horizon. A really, really dark horizon. She basically saved me.

From myself.

I stand up, and a rope brushes past my cheeks.

“Funny how I used to think this was the answer to my problems.”

I get a ladder, untie the rope, and start cleaning my apartment just in case Yuki actually runs away from her family.

Yuki found me at a time when I thought I was done for. If it wasn’t for her, I would’ve probably killed myself the next day. But she approached me and asked me that stupid question.

“What are you thinking of?”

It’s a goddamn rhetorical question. But it can also be a serious question. I interpreted it as the former, but deep inside, I actually asked myself the same question.

Just what the hell was I thinking?

I was ready to kill myself because my plans didn’t work out. I was ready to end it all because I felt like a burden to my parents by being someone who pursued his dreams instead of actually working. They were never against it, but it just felt so wrong not being able to contribute to them.

I just felt like… a thorn.

Then Yuki opened up. Her words were an antidote to my toxic view. The internal turmoil inside of her must’ve been worse than mine. Adapting to a new family as you get passed around until you lose the meaning of the word itself.

She doesn’t show it, but I can see that she has already lost every meaning that word had.

I finish cleaning up and make sure everything’s in tip-top shape. Yuki calls me to ask where I am and that she’s already at the park waiting by herself. I tell her I’m on my way and drop the call.

***

She‘s already there, at “our” bench, swinging her legs like an excited kid on a fieldtrip.

“Yo.”

I greet her.

“Yoooo.”

She replies as she repeatedly pats the space beside her.

“Pretty happy, huh? Something good happened?”

“Yeah!”

She stands up and smiles as wide as possible. Her aura gives light once more to my dark world. She outstretches her hands and declares:

“I’m getting kicked out of the house!”

She said that with a smile.

What a fucking dumb ass.

Who gets this happy about getting kicked out of the house?

“Congratulations.”

I clap slowly. Genuinely amazed at how she said it with the brightest smile on her face. The people around us are looking at her like she lost her mind. Some are looking at her with genuine faces of concern. I mean, being with such a shady guy like me would warrant that look.

I remove the hood of my hoodie, which I always wear every time we meet up, and let loose of my dark, shoulder-length hair.

“W-wow.”

Yuki looks at me, surprised.

“I never introduced myself, haven’t I?”

I stand up and stretch my hand, offering a handshake.

“I’m Kuro.”

She looks at me like she’s seeing a different person. It was a look of awe. My hair starts flopping around as the wind starts blowing harder.

“I knew you were hiding something under that hoodie of yours.”

She takes my hand and sits beside me, still holding it.

“Sorry, I just didn’t have the confidence to face you.”

“It’s fine, what matters now is that you have it now.”

She pulls my hand and hugs me.

The warmest hug I’ve ever had since I left home.

“Are you crying?”

She whispers to me softly.

I didn’t even notice that I started tearing up. Her warmth made me remember how it felt to actually live. How it felt to actually have a connection with someone. Something I gave up back then. But here I am. With the person who saved me from the darkness that I was sure would consume me.

“I’m really thankful you talked to me back then.”

I answer back. I fumbled my words, but I didn’t care. I wanted my reply to be straight from my heart.

“Mhmm.”

She nods and pulls me closer.

I zoned out. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I’m pretty sure I dozed a little bit. I feel a little lighter, like a weight has been lifted off my chest.

And it’s all thanks to this girl who has her head on my shoulder, sleeping peacefully.

“Thank you so much.”

I lean over and kiss the top of her head.

“You’re welcome.”

She looks at me and smiles.

I lean closer and rub my nose with hers.

“So, when are you getting kicked out?”

“Tomorrow. I’ve already prepared my essentials.”

“Good thing I cleaned my room earlier, then.”

“Well, then. Tomorrow. Same time, same place?”

“Yup.”

***

That was the end of that night. I remember being so nervous I couldn’t sleep properly. I made sure I had enough bedding. I stocked up on the essentials. I didn’t know someone moving in with you had this kind of anxiety mixed in it.

The time for our meeting rapidly approaches. I pick up a couple of canned coffee from a nearby convenience store, and sit at our bench. I start drinking the coffee while I twiddle my thumbs in anxiety. Upon checking the time, I realize that I arrived a couple of hours early so I fiddle with my phone for a bit.

Yuki has been texting me all day. Apparently, she can’t wait to move in. I told her I’m the same. Which got me thinking about the same thing I was when she asked me that question.

Beauty.

I’ve found the answer.

Beauty is not something that can be defined by wonderful things. It’s something that is defined by the mess surrounding it. Without an opinion of what “beauty” is, a person might find something beautiful that you might find horrible.

In the end, it’s based on a person’s tastes and background.

There’s no clear answer.

A rhetorical question.

I never expected an answer, because there’s no clear answer.

And I think that’s beautiful in and of itself.

She arrives at exactly the time she told me she would. She has about 4 bags with her, so I rush to her side and help her.

“Thanks.”

She smiles and gives me a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, we’re in public.”

“Meh, who cares, we’re basically all over each other when we’re at the park anyway.”

“Touche.”

We both laughed.

The sun sets, and it’s the moon’s time to conquer the heavens together with her army of stars. Yet here I am, with the sunshine that saved me from the darkest part of my life.