An Uncanny Encounter at the Grocery Store

Murasaki’s news photo plagued Issei even while he shopped at the “12/16” store, a grocer affectionately named after a time signature in music: twelve beats measured in sixteenth-notes. Unlike its namesake, the 12/16 store played easy, simple tunes overhead. Most modern songs are played in 4/4, or “common time”, but Math Rock groups enjoyed creating tunes with complex beats.

Issei mused while he drove his shopping cart around the store, the thin frame rattling each time he dropped goods and fresh ingredients inside. Maybe one day Secret Prose will have a song in different times. 3/4? 6/8? Maybe even 12/16?

Still, the uncanny photo lingered in his mind. What was Murasaki battling when she wasn’t the front woman of Purple Lotus? He shouldn’t pry, but Issei couldn’t imagine her wearing such a listless, sullen face. She was declared ‘missing’ to boot. Had Issei accidentally hit the nail on the head? Was Murasaki cutting all contact with her loved ones?

Issei rounded the corner to the Spices-and-Baking aisle in pursuit of a jar of curry powder; living alone was no excuse for not cooking healthy meals, especially if it’s cheaper in the end. He spotted the sinister jar of red-hot Fortississimo Curry Powder high on its throne in the middle shelf, but as he reached out, another hand had just grabbed the jar before him–his fingers had wrapped over theirs.

He quickly pulled away. “Whoops–sorry.”

“Oh, you’re fine–ah.”

That voice… 

Issei slowly turned his head. Murasaki stepped away, curry powder in both hands, looking just as surprised as he was that they had met in such an unlikely place. It was like the missing photo was a blatant lie: her blue eyes were so full of life in comparison, and even her hair looked healthier. The contrast reminded Issei of himself; he too was in a dark place, once.

Thankfully, she wasn’t wearing that same sweater, else people could pick her out immediately. Instead, she was wearing the Catalot shirt she bought, the band Issei mentioned just once, a shirt she practically hunted down the very next day.

Murasaki stood there, unsure whether to smile or stay shocked. “Issei? I didn’t know you shopped here.”

Well, he was glad he did. “Same to you–hey listen.” 

What should he say first? There’s several things he doesn’t know–things he has to know–but again, he shouldn’t pry. Maybe he shouldn’t start with that. Yet there was one thing Issei needed cleared up.

He brought his voice low. “Listen, I’m sorry about Tuesday’s call.” He couldn’t keep himself from rubbing the back of his neck. “Uhm, I don’t know what happened, but I shouldn’t have sung…that was too weird of me to do.”

She leaned to one side. “Huh? No, you weren't…”

Then as if she remembered, Murasaki turned pink, and she waved around the curry powder in her hand, her voice nervous and squeaky. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong–I was glad–I mean–it didn’t bother me–I just slipped, that’s all!”

Issei let out a deep sigh, then chuckled. “Okay good, I was kicking myself for days! I was so sure I creeped you out.”

“No, not at all–we’re singers aren’t we?” Then Murasaki giggled, and he knew everything was okay.

“I guess you’re right…oh, one other thing.”

Issei glanced around the store, making sure no one was watching, then held up his hand in a whisper. “Have you watched the news lately?”

She shook her head. “Did something happen?”

How best to put this? Issei folded his arms. “Well, they put a photo of you out–they think you’re missing.”

As though a shock went through her body, Murasaki became stiff. Her eyes darted everywhere. Then her legs wobbled like she lost feeling–they gave out, and she stumbled backwards into her shopping cart, causing it to careen down the aisle, her jar of curry powder clattering to the floor.

“Hey!”

He rushed forward just in time, and with one hand Issei grabbed her forearm and pulled, the other arm firmly around her back. “Are you okay?”

Murasaki’s voice cracked and wavered. “Please don’t tell anyone–I can’t go back there, I just can’t!”

“Easy, easy. You’re not going anywhere.”

He felt her shuddering, then Issei realized his arm was still around her and let go.

“How…how long was I on the news?”

He went ahead and rescued the runaway cart that had stopped just before it bumped into a shelf. “I watch a lot of music videos, but I only saw it today before I came here.”

That seemed to only make it worse. Murasaki shook her head weakly as if trying to deny the truth. Then, without warning, tears ran down her cheeks and dropped on her shoes.

Oh boy, here we go. Issei hated when anyone cried, much less Murasaki, because he had no idea what to do. He needed to do something, though, because now shoppers gathered and started to stare.

“Breaking up in a damn grocery store–how shameful,” an old man said while shaking his head.

Issei gritted his teeth. It’s not what you think you old fart! 

Finally, he placed a hand on Murasaki’s shoulder. “Listen: why don’t we pay for our things, and if you want, we can talk about this at my house? But if it’s too hard or personal, I figure I can at least help you relax.”

Murasaki hiccuped as she dried her eyes on her sleeve. After a shaky breath, she nodded. “Okay.”

Their shopping finished, Issei paid for the carts despite Murasaki’s protests. When they stepped out into a street corner, Murasaki hung her head, muttering “I don’t know what to say…that’s twice you paid for me.”

It was as though all her energy was sapped away. What would it take for her to get her spirit back, and how can he help? Right now, that’s all that mattered.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” Issei said, forcing a grin as both arms held two bags of groceries. “Something’s clearly stressing you out, and I wouldn’t want you to worry about money too.”

She said nothing and simply shuffled her feet forward, silently following him from behind.

“My apartment isn’t far, thankfully,” he said, trying to think of something to say. It was quickly becoming awkward, and if he didn’t do something soon, it would avalanche into another ‘bad memory’. That was the last thing in the world he needed.

They reached a crosswalk that just ended, and when Issei stopped, Murasaki bumped into him.

“Sorry…”

Issei watched several cars cruise by until he glanced behind him. She continued to stare at her feet, only moving when he did. A dreadful thought crossed his mind: all this time, Issei had the privilege of spending time with Murasaki's true self, but all it took was one brief, dark moment for her to start resembling that uncanny photo. He had no idea what the root of her ordeals were, but it didn't matter; the sadness was still the same. Issei was in a dark place too, once.  What he wanted back then was someone to pull him out.

“Don’t worry. We’ll sort this out.”

Slowly, Murasaki lifted her head. Their eyes met, and for a few seconds they stared.

"We're friends, right? Friends help each other out, don't they?"

She stopped frowning. It was faint, but Murasaki flickered a smile as if those words gave her hope–distant, but tangible.

Murasaki nodded. "That's right."

Issei grinned. "Come on–the light's green."