A tentative talk

A loud ringing noise woke her up from the shallow sleep she drifted into, after snoozing her alarm for the third time and the promise to get up after five more minutes. Arihira’s name made her blurry vision focus and she jumped from the futon, giving herself as much cohesion as she could, before answering, like he waited at the door and could see her sleepy state.

“I’m outside. Open up.” So, she was right to do it after all. Her face drained of color, as she looked down at her plush night clothes and caught a glimpse of her nest of bed hair in the reflection of the window.

“What?” She asked, quietly at first. “Why are you waiting for me?!”

“I’m making sure you aren’t late again.” Arihira babbled from the other side of the line, absentminded. “Dr. Tanaka was lenient yesterday because he believed your excuse that you couldn’t find your way around yet, but today he won’t be so understanding.” Meanwhile, Suzume rushed around her bedroom, tossing clothes from the wardrobe left and right in search of something to wear as fast as she could. A white shirt, tucked haphazardly into black jeans and an even messier bun on her head. Somewhat, she was prepared to open the door and see Arihira in his pristine polo shirt with an open collar and white jeans. “Sleeping in again?” His smug grin infuriated her and it hadn’t been a half hour since she woke up. “Good thing I took the time for a detour to yours.”

“Shut up.” She stepped aside to let him in. “Did you eat? I’ll see what I have for breakfast.”

Ritsu immediately strolled over to her, meowing accusatory scolds in his cat language and bunting against her legs, before she even had the time to fold her futon. “Don’t try to act cute, after what you did yesterday.” Suzume frowned. She crouched down and picked up the lean tabby cat, earning no resistance in return. He stared at her with a look, bordering understanding every word, but choosing to ignore it anyway and almost rolled his eyes. His snout near curled into a smirk. “You nearly caused a fire, you little menace.” Her voice lowered to a coo, as she cradled him. She set him down on the tatami and turned on the heater in the kotatsu table, now bare, after Ritsu’s antics ruined the tablecloth.

His kibble still sat untouched in his bowl. Instead, he insisted on climbing onto the short table and sniff the fish cake in Suzume’s leftover convenience store cup noodles from yesterday. She snatched the container away from him, but left an onigiri vulnerable to his advances. In the next minute, both cat and onigiri disappeared. “You are more pig than cat, I swear.” She muttered under her nose, defeated.

Ritsu stalked from around the corner to see this new intruder and the two locked eyes, tarnished gold versus cold moss-covered grey steel. The air in the room became thick with tension. Suzume’s gaze shifted from Ritsu to Arihira and back in awkward confusion, waiting for an explanation, which never came. “Ah…” she cleared her throat, snapping Arihira’s attention away from the feline. He shook his head in dismissal, smug smile returning to his face, as if it never left and beckoned her out with exceptional haste.

“Let’s just go.” He snarled in awfully concealed irritation. “I’m not hungry.”

“What was that?” Suzume snapped along the way to Shingawa station. “Do you hate cats or something?” Cherry blossoms littered the asphalt of the street and the velvet petals brushed her face, as they fell. Sunlight filtered through the pink crowned trees, leaving an iridescent glow on the cars, roaring up and down the streets. Faceless pedestrians barely glanced their way, as they passed by. Apartment buildings loomed from above, tight knit in the limited space. Spring arrived and with it, warmth and a fragile hope for new beginnings, as fragile as the little, pink flowers, brushed by the breeze.

At first, he ignored her, but she caught a glimpse of his nostrils flaring out in anger. A sigh deflated his chest and took the tension away from his shoulders. “I didn’t know you had one of those feline fiends.” He hissed in that silky, sultry tone. Profound hatred twisted his face and tainted his voice. “I can’t stand the things.”

“Neither could aunt Tamao. I don’t understand why, though.”

“How did you find the thing?” The question sounded sharper than intended.

“I found him limping when I first moved here. I couldn’t resist and adopted him.” Timid, she looked up to see his face, which remained eerily calm, even with a clenched jaw. “Why do you hate cats so much?”

A long pause followed, tense enough to slice with a knife. “Allergies.” A substandard answer, demanding more questions she became too afraid to ask. To lighten the mood, he reached out and flicked the tip of her nose with a fleeting touch she didn’t even see coming, until the light tingle on her nose made her nervous system register it.

In comforting silence, the two made their way toward the train station. Faceless people passed them by, uttering unintelligible nonsense Suzume didn’t bother listening to. A cloud of cotton candy with faint pink hues passed over mount Fuji in the distance. Arihira’s eyes scanned every nook and cranny of their surroundings, narrowing suspiciously.

The deafening boom of trains echoed in the small, confined space of the underground station. A board, hanging overhead announced the departures of the present and arrival of the future ones. Arihira strolled into a snack bar, tucked into a cozy corner.

“What are you doing?” Suzume chased after him. “The train is coming. We don’t have time.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that.”

“Good morning!” The cashier greeted, face hidden behind a mask and hair net.

“What do you mean?! Class starts at 9!”

“Would anyone care, really?” He peered into the showcase, displaying a variety of golden snacks and baked goods. “The world is just one big wonderful illusion, where consequences reach you only if you care enough to allow them to.” Suzume furrowed her brows in a pout. “What do you want? My treat.”

“I don’t like deep fried food.”

“Ah, so you don’t.” He exclaimed, like some sort of recognition came back to him. “I’ll have a box of five fried tofu sticks with a side of umeboshi.”

“Coming right up!” Ever so excited, the cashier scurried to fulfil the order.

He didn’t wait until they sat down. He fished out his box from the plastic bag and immediately devoured one of the tofu. “You eat those with umeboshi?” Suzume’s face contorted in confusion, mixed with disgust.

“I don’t.”

“Then why get them together?”

Without looking at her, he shoved the bag with a smaller box remaining inside. “They’re for you.”

“Me?!” Her face paled, as she struggled to catch the box with shaky hands. “How did you know I like umeboshi?”

Arihira’s lips twitched into a smirk, so faint, one would think their eyes are playing tricks. “I didn’t.” He answered. “I was hoping I get it right. And since the world is a wonderful illusion, anything you manifest can become your reality.”

“You keep saying the world is an illusion.” She unboxed her own snack and popped one of the plums into her mouth, reveling in the tangy, pickled flavor. “What makes you say that?”

“I find it strange… life itself. Look around yourself and tell me you believe all these people aren’t a manifestation of your own fear of loneliness that your brain conjured, so you don’t feel small in an empty world.”

“Strange.” She mused, slowing down her chewing. “Maybe they also think like that about us.”

He huffed a breath like laughter. “Maybe they are trapped in our illusion, too.”

“If life is an illusion, I think I would have made it more enjoyable.” A ringing cackle made her shoulders tremble. “I would have made myself a millionaire with a nice car and a luxurious mansion somewhere on a nice beach. Instead of that, I’m in a concrete jungle in a condo that looks like a prison more than anything.”

His lips curled up into a mysterious smile at her dream. “I suppose…” he trailed off. “But if you do wake up as a millionaire, you would think you’re dreaming. That’s where the illusion breaks.” Amber eyes burned into her with intent, amused at her confusion. “Our brains are trained to believe the only constant in reality is misery. That’s why we associate struggles and pain with reality. That’s what makes nightmares so intense. Have you ever woken up from a nightmare and felt so afraid to fall asleep again, because your nightmare leeched into reality?”

She delved into thought, searching for an instance that she couldn’t remember. In the end, she shrugged her shoulders. “No. I can’t say I ever dreamed at all.”

He hummed in response. Another huff-like laugh left him. “What if you’re dreaming right now?”

Suzume smacked him on the shoulder. “You’re trying to mess with my head.”

This time he laughed wholeheartedly. “You’re just easy to mess with.”

“If this is a dream, how are you here to tell me?”

His hand snapped up with an inhuman grace, resting his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin, tilting her head up to look into the intense, alluring gaze with a complementary smirk that made a flush creep up her neck and spread like wildfire all the way to her ears. “Maybe I’m a hallucination, too.”

She slapped his hand away from her face and turned away with another pout, arms folded over her chest in mock offense, while he descended into a fit of laughter, which made him fold over from the pain in his stomach muscles. “You’re horrible!” She shouted. “Don’t do that again or I won’t ever talk to you again!”

“Do what? Break into your little dreams? I have proof that this is your fantasy world, because you don't like fried food so this tofu tastes like cardboard.” He scoffed, tossing the box with half eaten fried tofu into the bin.

“That’s not proof. You just didn’t find the right shop that sells them.” Suzume stood up and beckoned him to follow her. “Come on, I know another place you might like.” Her all-knowing smirk intrigued him. He stared at the curl at the corner of her lips and her eyes, crinkled at the corners, as she peered down at him, because she couldn’t focus her vision from farsightedness. “Hello? Do I have something on my face?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, blinking twice, before the scowl returned on his face. “Tch…” With grace, unbefitting a human, he reached up to touch her face. His thumb grazed the corner of her lips. A reverent touch, so gentle, it felt like a feather-light caress and made Suzume’s face flare up with heat. “Yes, you’re filthy. Watch how you eat next time.” The snarky tone disappeared. The remarks sounded blunt, like a façade of cruelty he struggled to hold up, but failed.

The blast of a train made the crowds of faceless people scatter and flock to the edge of the platform in preparation. Arihira’s eyes tore away from hers and he withdrew completely, leaving her with an almost yearning ache in anticipation and wonder. “Train’s here.” He murmured under his breath.