1 — Parallel Souls

In every plane of existence there is… in each of their eons—

Amidst the distance that parts us… standing each at their far end—

Our souls shall transcend, weaving our destinies anew.

⁂

Beneath the cascade of fleeting lights and explosive symphony cast by fireworks, two souls—a young man and a young woman—stood before each other. Mere feet covered their distance, yet their eyes bridged the gap, interlocking with an intensity that transformed the bustling backdrop into a mere canvas of a youthful moment.

The young man extended his arm toward the young woman. A trace of heat enveloped his cheeks as the words he yearned to deliver finally formed in his voice.

"I know this is all of a sudden, but I want these feelings to reach you." he started, his lips curling out of anxiety. With profound intentions to convey his feelings, he swallowed the worries that had been holding him back. "I like you—is all I want to say, but I’d be really happy if you could consider dating me.”

With a sidelong glance, the young woman invoked a sense of mystery. Her gesture played upon the strings of the young man's anticipations, prompting him to let loose of his feelings.

Promises and a lot of words to desperately support it—it came as if it was a full-scale attack. But words fell flat; with an enigmatic smile creeping onto her lips, she uttered the words—

"I'm sorry."

A period of silence followed. Yet, the young man never heard of so much noise. He stood dumbfounded as his eyes pleaded for an explanation.

The young woman averted her eyes. With a graceful gesture, her silky hair flowed as she tucked it behind her ear.

"Our relationship wouldn’t bloom. There’s a great distance this cruel world imposed between us."

The young man stood flabbergasted by the web of complexities in her words.

“So, no?” he inquired cluelessly.

The young woman expressed yet another smile that embraced nuance.

“I appreciate your sentiments. You’re a passionate man. I’m sure the next girl will fall heads-over-heels for you.”

Knees weak, the young man fell to his knees. A resolve he so carefully built up was denied in a passing moment, but the gnawing pain he felt would surely last for eons. As fast as the embers of their relationship extinguished, the glint in his eyes dimmed. That night, a void spanned between two hearts—one belonging to the young man; the other was from a pair of eyes afar that had borne witness to the eventful scene.

"Not again!" another young man groaned with a grimace contorting his face. He couldn't help but express his support towards the man openly declaring his feelings to his beloved. “And to think the guy was sincere with his words. What a shame!” he deplored with an awful sigh.

Kei, the spectator, rummaged around town to run different errands; each one a brief stint where owners sought only menial assistance. The ongoing festival granted him a spot at one of the stalls. His immediate task— wrapping up items on the owner's truck—coincided with yet another declaration of love, involving the same young woman to boot.

He lost count of the guys who professed their love to the same young woman. Somehow, he had a complete collection of all the tales: a confession on a desolate overpass, a flamboyant declaration amid a sea of people, and even an extravagant avowal in a fine-dining setting brimming with splendor. He came to witness these events from the sidelines. Whether it was by chance, or his perennial presence around town simply facilitated these encounters, the random series of confessions he thoroughly encountered still seemed like a huge coincidence—almost absurdly so.

Notwithstanding the fact, Kei wasn’t doubtful of her charms. Given her looks, she was bound to attract some people.

She had short, lustrous hair—blunt in all ends—brimming with a mixture of serenity and elegance. Her skin was of a pale, rosy complexion with contours that greatly accentuated her shapely nose and velvety cheeks. Her slender figure was a modest charm, a reflection of her cultivated grace. Complementing these traits were her graceful motions and genteel speech, which echoed a touch of royal heritage. While her aloof demeanor whispered a sense of distance, it acted as a catalyst to her charms that made her all the more desirable.

Kei had coined the phrase, a beauty that kills, to encapsulate her effect. Since every confession aimed her way, she shot it down coldly using the same set of words—

Our relationship wouldn’t bloom. There’s a great distance this cruel world imposed between us.

She surely had substantial reasons, but Kei chose to believe that her admirers deserved a better explanation. Not that it was his business. In the end, it wasn’t his place to amend bitter endings.

"Professing one’s love, huh?” he bemoaned, soon turning into giggling. “No way! I couldn’t quite imagine myself in it. So embarrassing! It must be nice to be young!”

The owner, who was around him for a while, glared at him from the corner of his eye. Disbelief painted his face as he witnessed Kei nonchalantly slacking off right in his presence. Though he knew the young man was just being playful, his deteriorating temper manifested in his fist. In a swift blow, his knuckle landed on the young man's pate.

"This ain't the time to be watching other people's drama in leisure!" he exclaimed. "Besides, those guys can't possibly be older than you!"

“I got carried away” Kei chuckled, caressing the trauma on his head. His resilience theatrically brought his hands to his hips. ”Well! If you witness a youthful moment before your eyes, wouldn’t you just want to sit back and watch?”

The impressions of an old man were uttered by a young body. As a matter of fact, shouldn’t this young man embrace his own youthful adventures? The owner gazed at him with scrutiny when the thought occurred to him.

Kei, though his age is unbeknownst, his developed features are suggestive of a young adult. On the contrary, his countenance—an everlasting presence brimming with purity and whimsy—implied he was not past his teenage years. While he might give off an unsophisticated impression, some women (and possibly men) would fawn over his tall and deceptively slender figure.

His hair, a cascade of dark and wavy locks, bore a resemblance to gaping curtains that shrouded his trimmed temple. Casually drawn into a cropped ponytail, it carried a pleasant disarray that embodied a spontaneously rugged appeal.

Not to mention, his prized charm—his eyes, brimming with a pink, vivid gaze like the afterglow of a setting sky—could cast one into a spell. Even the owner, with a cursory look alone, was lost in his surreal gaze. The fact that Kei was romantically uninitiated was ridiculous, almost criminal.

The owner shook his head, barely escaping the snares of his gaze. "Why are you getting excited over other’s relationship? You’re young, and—damn, you’re a looker yourself! Get your own relationship!"

Kei chuckled at his remark; just the thought of it seemed amusing.

"I’m bound to an honorable undertaking—something mere romance cannot compare,” he began with a whimsically steadfast voice, subsequently sticking his thumb to his chest. “The omnipotent Kei belongs to everyone, and when he is needed, he shall emerge from the shadows… For the right price!”

The owner crinkled his nose. “That can’t be fun! You have to be more indulgent while you’re young!” he argued. At the expense of keeping up with Kei’s boundless energy, he lets out a long-suffering sigh. ”I know you’re eager to help people, but if you did not set some time aside for adolescent stuff, you’ll be missing cherished memories!"

Kei playfully patted the owner's shoulder, a means to thwart a dreary thread. "Don’t be like that! I’m sure our little acquaintance will make a great memory."

Unfazed by his diversion, stern subtleties filled the owner’s expression.

"You'll grow old and miserable."

Kei couldn't help but awkwardly laugh as he realized the futility of his attempts. The old man’s reminder never occurred to his head, but his words probably carried the weight of his experience.

Academics, forming friendships, and the thrill of romance—all but a glimpse of myriad troubles in the mind of most normal adolescent boys. Such a privilege is elusive to those living in reality at a young age.

As the world around Kei focused on what to get for their next meal, he wondered where to get his. While others thought of when to sleep, Kei constantly had to find a place where he could lay his body to rest. And while the majority took tomorrow for granted, Kei grappled with the challenge of how to overcome each passing day.

Every issue can be equally valid, yet Kei was stuck in the depths of reality. The world may have turned against him, but never—even in a moment—he abhorred his life. Never did he curse the world for what it put him through. Every struggle, he solved with a dazzling smile on his lips; such finesse was carved into his heart.

"Don’t worry! I get my fair share of fond memories while helping people. As for romance and juvenile fun, if it’s bound to happen, it shall happen,” Kei assured with an unyielding beam. During the brief pause that followed, his thoughts lingered around his own words. Conceited by his sentiments, he enthusiastically shot a finger up. “That’s right, we don’t know what comes next! The mysteries of tomorrow—that sort of anticipation— doesn’t that make your heart throb!?” he exclaimed with utter delight.

For a moment, the owner looked dumbfounded. His hopefulness was awe-inspiring at the very least. However, the longer he gawked at Kei, the more ridiculous his sentiments seemed compared to when he said it. The sheer absurdity had the owner snorting and cackling.

"What a naive thing to say!" he cried in laughter. With his arm on his stomach, he repeatedly patted Kei’s shoulder with the other. “Your optimism is way over the top, it’s incredible!”

Taking it as a compliment, Kei giggled in response, palms gleefully resting on his cheeks. "Oh, you’re way too good with words! You're making me blush."

"That was not a compliment!" the owner exclaimed, the look of derision wearing off his face. He began to hope he could share Kei’s enthusiasm. Before it could plague him, he pulled out a wallet from his pocket. Kei watched with anticipation as the owner counted money.

"Alright, I've added a few extra. Make 'em count!" he said bashfully, handing over Kei’s commission.

Kei gasped in delight, playfully clapping his hands. “You’re a gift to everyone around you! I love you! Let me kiss you!”

With puckered lips, he threw himself to the owner. The owner’s palms reflexively pressed against the Kei’s cheeks, grouching all the while.

“You bothered me enough. Now, begone from my sight!”

“But I thought I was going to be your regular!” Kei riposted— a daring ploy, but his attempts were seen from a mile away.

"I never said that, dumbass! This is a one-time thing. You'll run me out of business if you keep coming!"

With a hint of frustration, Kei playfully pouted. It was his endless impulse to fool around, but he also recognized the need to spare the owner further trouble. With utter resilience, he took a deep breath as he stretched his back, then turned away.

“Kei’s services are never a one-time thing! Should you need help, Kei is right 'round the corner. Buh-bye!" he exclaimed, as he shot off. The owner idly watched as the young man waved his hand goodbye.

"What a handful. We’re not even done closing up shop," he complained, ironically, with a beam embodying his growing fondness for the young man despite their recent acquaintance.

Even as a homeless person, Kei adopted the familiar patterns of ordinary nightly routines. After a weary day, he wouldn't forgo a shower. He’d approach establishments generous enough to lend their restrooms, a sanctuary where he could cleanse not just his body, but also the impurities that would have lingered in his mind.

Afterward, he'd embark on a search for sustenance, rummaging around the city in search of meager provisions or even the remains of others' repasts. Kei wouldn't call it a night without replenishing his fuel for the travails of tomorrow.

Finally, as exhaustion sets in, he would seek shelter for a good night's sleep. He’d settle for conventional options—the sheltering arches of bridges or the quiet corners of a desolate park. With the flu rampant, however, he had to seek a place indoors.

Kei dragged his feet around town to continue his search, but luck would not just have it. What seemed like a continuous search proved otherwise when he heard deep and obscure voices— discernibly an argument.

His gaze darted toward an inconspicuous shop situated in a rather suspicious basement. Kei instinctively pried, sticking his ears to the door. But before he had a chance to listen, a figure almost twice his volume stormed off the entryway, causing him to fall on his bottom.

"Good luck finding a replacement with your shitty rate!” the formidable figure screamed as he flounced off the scene.

What followed was a succession of heavy, rapid thumping, each footfall apparently aimed at Kei's direction. When the doors to the shop unbolted, it seemed as if the gates of hell themselves opened. Emerging from the depths was a vicious old man, radiating an aura of fierce intensity. His bald head, wreathed by tattoos and piercings, exuded menace that encircled the vast expanse. Brows furrowed and veins throbbing, an impending disaster loomed out of his simmering rage.

"Come back here, damn it! I'll fire the shit out of you!" he bellowed with great menace.

From a distance, the other person shouted, "Rot in hell! I quit!"

Their cries filled the night with great conflict. Poor Kei, still on the ground and flinching, stuck like a sore thumb, and inevitably caught the old man’s attention. Finding the perfect release for his pent-up anger, the dangers bordering the old man’s presence exponentially shot up.

"You!” he began, his countenance ever-brimming with hostile admonishment. Eyes aglow, he bellowed, “Tend to the shop or I'll kill ya."

Kei’s spine shuddered at the weight of the old man's warning. Luck and intimidation concurrently befalling him, he muttered with a stiff smile persisting on his lips—

"Count your blessings."

No formalities were made. The moment Kei agreed, the owner walked out of the shop. Not that he had a choice, but it was a decision he had made without truly understanding what he got himself into. Grasping silver linings, the old man’s absence meant no lives were in danger. He potentially found himself a place to sleep, perhaps eternally.

As Kei hesitantly ventured inside, he was welcomed by an eerily frigid touch, gnawing at his skin with an otherworldly coldness. The room stretched before him, bleak in every corner an eye could reach, embellished by unsettling displays that whispered trepidation.

Making his way through the abyss, his steps echoed faintly against the cold, hard floor. His gaze fell upon a suspicious door tucked into a corner, a portal that seemed to lead to unknown horrors. Kei instinctively retreated into an enclosed reception which apparently is the only safe space around the premises.

Isolated from the realms of fright, Kei waged a quiet battle against his encroaching fatigue. He stood adamant about accommodating potential customers. Yet, each individual who intermittently strolled inside moved about with an air of detachment, their eyes hollow and their expressions distant. No one batted an eye at the staff if Kei could even be called that. Their only purpose was to enter the dubious door Kei didn’t dare enter. That actually worked in his favor— if no one cared to interact, Kei might as well blend with the displays arbitrarily placed around the lobby.

He wandered through the room's obscurity, seeking amenities to bolster his slumber. Motivated by the charms of comfort, Kei ambitiously maneuvered a sofa from the lobby to the reception. Amidst his valiant attempt, his eyes caught hold of a sizeable jacket on display. Rather than leaving it unused, he figured he might as well use it as a blanket.

Notwithstanding the looming peril in the air, the ambient ringing and once-nagging cold felt oddly accommodating. The lack of lighting slowly deprived him of his vision, allowing his eyes a moment of repose. In his weary state, it didn’t take long for the drowsiness to settle in. He wouldn’t even notice he was being robbed of his consciousness.

Simultaneously feeling all things delicate, Kei succumbed to rest. Sleep had never felt so comfortable before—satisfying, almost, until eventually, an immediate presence unwittingly invaded his space.

Revealing himself from his cocoon, Kei squinted toward an inconspicuous figure whose whole being was concealed to the bone. Displayed on their right hand was a considerably large pouch, and on the other was a stack of hard cash. It was seemingly bound to the pouch if it weren’t for Kei’s watchful gaze.

It was supposedly an easy score if not for the anomaly who chose to sleep in the sketchiest of places. Now, standing at a stalemate, developed a cumbersome situation.

“It's alright. Put it down and we can all forget about this." Kei told them in a desperate attempt to de-escalate the situation. A beguiling smile and a compelling voice graced his comportment—a perfect trap, supposedly. Such an attempt was unfortunately futile when the sly thief ran off quicker than his eyes could see.

Kei chose to dismiss reality, convincing himself it was all a dream. However, the terrifying image of the old man surely felt real when it intruded into his thoughts. In the realization of his impending doom, Kei zoomed out of the counter and hightailed the thief, screaming—

"Bitch, you're gonna get me killed!"

Their fervid pursuit, where both sides showed no signs of letting up, invaded the tranquility of the night. Kei, his demise becoming more apparent with each second, pushed his legs to the limit, each fervent stride conveying his desperation. In close pursuit, the thief matched Kei's speed, stealing anxious glances over their shoulder. Realizing their dwindling distance, desperation fueled their sprint. Faster than their limits, however, they tripped.

Kei seized the moment that introduced itself, subduing the thief dexterously. He deftly clamped his grip over the thief’s arms. With his knee, he pushed their abdomen against the ground.

"Second chance. Hand over everything" Kei admonished, ready to break a bone at the first hint of struggle.

The thief swiveled their head, laying their eyes on the person who forced them into a submissive position. Their hood shifted, revealing locks of pale blonde hair that slithered beneath their disguise. Kei was initially averse to prejudice, yet he couldn't help but battle his own preconceptions towards the thief. Their fragile structure and enchanting softness made more sense when Kei inclined to the fact that the thief was a woman.

Compelled by lingering uncertainties, Kei adeptly flipped the thief over, pinning both their hands to the ground just above their head. The moment he uncovered the very image, a surreal shift occurred—the world around them seemed to fade into insignificance, casting an ethereal spotlight solely upon the figure before him.

In the heart of that tense moment, Kei was greeted by a stabbing glare from a pair of lucid, cyan irises. While her eyes were novel to him, a whisper of connection tugged at the strings of his memory. Gazes interlocked with an electrifying tension, fragments of encounters surfaced at the edge of Kei’s awareness.

In the face of a bustling city, Kei had absorbed countless faces; among them was a young woman he always observed from afar. Their constant distance had been sparing him from her restraining allure. Now parted by mere inches, he was too enthralled to discern the subtleties of her aspects. The resemblance eventually settled in, and in its realization, Kei’s mouth fell agape and his eyes widened. The last person he’d expect the thief to be laid on the ground before his very eyes.

A beauty that kills…

At last, two parallel souls intertwined.