The Crossroad

“Hey Ai, so I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you said you’re free for most of the day?”

“I’m free now, actually.”

“Oh, that’s awesome. Because I have the perfect idea for what to do and I’m only like five minutes away, haha!”

Kiro was about to shove the phone into his pocket before it let out a meow.

“DON’T COME. GIVE ME FIVE MORE MINUTES.”

Kiro froze in place. Looking up from his phone, he spotted his destination a mere block away. The street that stretched out ahead of him was quaint and quiet. Large, two floor homes in shades of cream, peach, and slate lined either side of the road. The particular one that was marked on his map barely stood out from the others, having the same nice two cars parked out front and the same bay windows protruding out above rolling green lawns. And yet, knowing that this was her house filled his stomach with boiling butterflies.

Not knowing what to do with himself, Kiro continued to approach at a crawling pace. To burn away the minutes, he mentally mapped the patterns of tree bark and imagined himself tracing the flow of flowers from buds to stems.

Amidst analyzing the pattern brickworks of a garden along the way, there was a low purr. One of the cars in the driveway of his destination came to life: a bright red coupe of foreign import. It was hard to see from his distance, but Kiro made out two silhouettes stirring behind the dashboard.

Kiro jogged up to the nearest tree to try to catch a closer glimpse. By the time he could make out the bowler hat on the driver's head, the car had already begun to peel out in the opposite direction. Kiro stepped forward in front of the modern looking house that was now missing a car from the front. Somewhere behind the dark oak door out front was that mysterious, beautiful girl that he couldn’t stop thinking about.

Disappointed but not deterred, he acted on instinct and sent a text:

“Ready now?”

“Yeah, I’m coming out.”

As if on cue, the door opened the moment the departing car turned the street corner and disappeared. Ai emerged wearing a black and white sweater vest, alongside a skirt and a familiar hint of distress in the corner of her eyes.

“Were those your parents?” Kiro asked.

Ai nodded, albeit hesitantly. The particular tremor in her voice reminded him of when they first met.

“Yeah.”

Kiro lets out an “oh”, followed by a thoughtless and hurried, “Maybe I should have gotten a chance to meet them.”

Ai shook her head.

“Is there... any reason why?” he asked. “I mean, we're official now, right?”

She clutched a small carry bag to her side. “Things aren't going too well right now. It's not the best time.”

“I see.” He rubbed the back of his head. “No biggie, then.”

Suddenly, Kiro felt a jolt through his body. Ai’s hand slipped into his and her smile sent his coherent thoughts into a tailspin. All he could do was blush.

“You mentioned that you had an idea for our date today?” she asked.

—

“You know,” she whispered, “I'm glad that it's nice and personal and stuff, but did you really feel like watching this movie, or are you doing it for me?”

Despite this being a mere week from the movie’s release, they were practically alone in the theater. The shlock of the day blasting onto the vast screen ahead through an air thick with the scent of congealed butter and condensed soda.

“No, yeah. I'm having a lot of fun,” Kiro replied, his eyes glimmering with projected light.

Ai let out a sigh-laugh. “As long as you're enjoying yourself. But I'm not sure if I get it too much. I mean, come on. Martian princesses? Ancient prophecies written Into the asteroid belt? Doesn't that just sound a little bit far-fetched?”

“Yeah,” Kiro replied with a chuckle. “I don't know what's going on either, but the special effects are pretty cool. I can tell that the aliens in this movie are made entirely with makeup and masks, which is pretty rare to see these days.”

“Oh? I couldn't tell. Is that a good thing?”

Kiro nodded. “Yeah, I really love practical effects. Oh, and this movie has some of the best I've ever seen! I mean, for example, you hear that laser sound?”

Ai craned her neck and cupped a hand around her ear. “I think so.”

“I know exactly how they made it. I watched a documentary about it, and apparently they use a copper rod to hit the side of a thick sheet of aluminum paper.”

“I see,” Ai said, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Go on.”

Ai watched him blabber throughout the entire opening acts with glee. The movie’s action was too hard to follow, so it wasn't like either of them paid it too much mind. Once in a while, a couple of choice lines would break into their little bubble and they would laugh in unison. It was hard to get invested into what seemed like a farfetched, theatrical farce. That was, until the dramatic climax kicked in and that music started to play.

There's something about even the cheesiest of flicks that could snare one’s heart in the final act. And the two teenagers were no exception.

The lead actor of the movie, a dashing space adventurer, gazed into the eyes of his beloved. The Martian warrior princess in his arms was rapidly fading from life in the wake of her noble sacrifice.

“In the name of peace between our two people,” coughed the princess.

“Save your energy, please, my love.”

“I know. There is no expanse of space that could keep us apart. And yet, my time approaches…”

“Don’t be a fool!” bawled the dashing adventurer, leaning in over her face. “We’ll have all the time in the cosmos together!”

Having been caught off guard by the world’s most obvious cinematic development, Kiro tensed up. His heart began to race as he watched the two cardboard characters stare longingly into each other’s eyes. Urged by the nails digging into his arm, Kiro turned to his side to see that Ai was similarly enraptured. She turned to face him, evidently besieged by the same thoughts.

“But if we kiss, then our planets will be at war!” cried the damsel.

“War is hell, but your eyes are heavenly,” replied the adventurer.

The actors’ lips paused but a hair apart.

Kiro and Ai gazed into each other’s eyes as the orchestra swelled.

“Ai-” Kiro started.

The girl’s fingers curled around his, her eyes filled with determination. That same, rare fire that he saw back when she wanted to help him find the Monsterpedia. Kiro knew that she was also terrified. But, she was in motion. The only person stopping them from this moment was him.

Kiro stared deep into her eyes before she closed them.

Vibrant blue eyes.

Her cheeks were tinted by a red that shifted into a gentle pink in the harsh blue light.

Flushed cheeks on a canvas of pale, peach skin.

As they closed the distance between them.

Small, pink lips.

And he accepted them.

The dashing hero on the screen declared, “I’ll love you till your last breath.”

“Know that I loved you till mine,” replied the heroine as she slipped from his arms.

The melancholic woodwinds were deafening as the Martian princess fell down into a fiery green pit. Colors swirled from green to red to black as the orchestra let out one final triumph. The movie ended abruptly, and the credits were silent.

But the two teenagers were none the wiser. They didn't know how long they stayed with their lips locked, but when they parted, it was five seconds from when the theater's lights turned on. Snapped from their hypnotizing dream by the shock of being in plain sight, Kiro and Ai immediately shrunk to their seats away from each other. After composing themselves, Kiro was first to stand, and he offered her his hand. She accepted and pulled herself up.

“Interesting movie, huh?” Ai asked.

“I guess. I sort of expected there to be more dimensions being invaded and stuff. But that's what I get for not watching the first movie.”

Ai blinked. “Wait. You took us to a sequel for a movie that neither of us watched?”

Kiro shrunk into his shirt under her judgemental stare. “I thought it'd be two times better! You know, because it's new and improved!”

Ai ruffled a hand through his hair and rolled her eyes. “Why you have to be so…?”

“Handsome?” Kiro’s eyes lit up with eagerness.

“I was going to say adorkable,” she said, pausing to sigh-laugh. “But that's not wrong either.”

The pair exited the theater hand in hand, slipping past the shadow of a lone janitor on their way out. Their first sight outdoors was a family of rats performing a salvage operation on an overturned box of donuts. Snapping a picture while laughing in amused disgust, Kiro and Ai proceeded in the direction of the emptiest street. Despite the slight chill in the mid-fall air, things couldn’t have seemed warmer between their two smiles.

Grrrrrr.

Ai stopped in place. “W-what was that?”

“I think I should’ve gotten a bigger bag of popcorn,” Kiro replied, patting his stomach.

Ai tugged his sleeve. Her lips were pouting. “If you’re hungry, you should just say it instead of jump-scaring me.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Kiro replied. “I got my stomach from my dad.”

Ai raised an eyebrow in response.

“Never mind,” Kiro chuckled, before pointing across the street. “What about that restaurant over there?”

Ai shook her head. “It's nice out. We could always pick up some food and eat outside.”

Kiro nodded, and the two of them stopped by an express food stand. After grabbing a sandwich each, they waited an ominously long amount of time for the stand’s proprietor to return. Realizing the vendor’s owner wasn't coming back, the pair slapped the approximate bills onto the counter and walked off towards the city’s waterfront. They approached the park, discussing theories about the mysterious “ghost cart” they had just acquired food from.

Kiro paused in front of the greenery at the entrance. “Isn't this where-?”

“Yep,” Ai replied. “I thought it'd be a nice place where we can sit and eat in peace.”

Exchanging a smile, the pair strolled into the park along a path lined with trees on either side. The sun had set by now, though a meridian of peach-orange still clung to life atop a raft of blues and purples. They crossed a freshly flowerless meadow in the fall, and passed a small duck pond before the dark river came into view.

Taking a bench by the riverside, the two teenagers devoured their sandwiches, their speed hastened by an eagerness to resume conversation. To no one’s surprise, Kiro finished his sandwich first.

“This is nice, isn’t it?” Kiro asked, shoving the sandwich wrapper into his pocket.

“Yeah,” Ai agreed. “Hard to believe we’re this close now.”

Kiro’s brow went up in thought. “Right. It’s only been two weeks.”

“I guess it just felt longer than that.” Ai stared out at a passing barge. “Maybe that’s what it’s like when you’re really enjoying yourself with someone that you like.”

Kiro blushed without a word edgewise. His eyes darted away, but he couldn’t hide the smile bolted onto his cheeks. Ai stopped chewing and looked up towards the few twinkling stars in the light-polluted sky.

“I actually can’t remember when I felt like this before.” Ai continued.

Kiro was broken out of his abashed spell. He looked at her in contemplation, briefly remembering the wist with which Ai brought up her parents.

“Yeah,” he said, finally breaking the unwelcome silence. “Things haven’t felt this real since… I started seeing monsters.”

“You remember when you didn’t?”

“You don’t?”

“I…” Ai fumbles on her response. “I don’t know. All I really can remember is that it got really bad in middle school.”

“What do you mean it got bad?”

“It’s… hard to explain.”

Kiro stared at her briefly before pulling one of the napkins they got from the vendor earlier. He glanced around before he spotted something, or rather, someone in the distance.

“Okay, how about that guy?” Kiro asked, pointing at the Dragon-man smoking by a lamppost.

He pulled the nubby pencil that was always on his ear and started to doodle. Half a minute later, he showed Ai the completed sketch.

“Why do you always draw them like that?” Ai asked.

“Like what?”

“So… cartoony.”

Kiro paused. He flipped over the napkin.

“How would you draw him?”

“I’m not much of an artist…”

“Don’t worry, just give it your best shot. Focus on the biggest details that are most striking to you first.”

She reluctantly took his pencil. It took her a little longer with more effort, but just as she’s done, she ended up tearing the napkin.

“Ah!” Ai nearly dropped the napkin as she fumbled it back into his hands. “I’m sorry!”

Kiro gave her another reassuring chuckle. “Don’t worry, it happens a lot more often than you think.”

As he looked down, his chuckle abruptly cut. Kiro pulled the torn napkin closer to his face, analyzing every one of her rough doodle’s details twice over:

Horns, sticking out like spidering bolts of lightning. From the gaping, jagged maw, a blooming plume of blackening flame. Narrow, chilling eyes with slit pupils, staring right through the page itself. Its spine, both witheringly large and hideously deviated, with hasty scales making way intermittently for fleshy expanses.

He could’ve chalked it up to her art skills, but Kiro knew better. He knew at that moment, that the possibility lingering in the back of his mind was their chilling reality:

Ai Suzuyoku’s monsters were different from Kiro Lane’s.