My seat was empty for the next week.

There were rumours, and a newspaper article only made things worse. But nobody would broach that subject to my face - not when I came back. Even Reina kept her piece. An irrational part of my mind wondered if my Grandmother’s passing had something to do with those words she left me with. But I was chasing shadows, Reina had nothing to do with it. At least that’s what I thought at first. Our concert was cancelled due to my absence, but all of my friends in the club were understanding. Some even gave me their condolences when they saw me again. I tried to power through the pain in my heart. My Grandmother was old, and she’d been having health problems for years, I knew it was coming eventually.

The more current concern was what I was going to do about my living situation. The house was left to me, being the last living family member. I couldn’t pay tax or bills; I didn’t even have a part-time job. Grandma’s savings would keep me going for a few months, but she was a retiree. They wouldn’t last for long. Clouds fogged my mind. With grief and with worry.

The music club gave me a daily escape though. We’d come back more determined than ever to make our debut. I secretly started writing my own little tribute…

It was three days after I came back when I saw her again. Reina, stood in the same spot as the last time we spoke. Our eyes met immediately. She bowed her head, “Good evening Hideki.”

“President.”

I slowly wandered over, dusting off my jacket. “I heard the news.”

“Yeah.” I nodded, “It sucks.”

Reina closed her eyes, “I know how it feels, I’ve lost close family myself.”

“Really?” I asked. “Would you mind talking about it?”

Reina’s lips thinned and I briefly worried that I’d overstepped my bounds. But soon she returned to normal. “My sister, Hanasaki. It’ll be five years soon.” She placed a manicured finger against her temple, an action that drew my eyes. “I wish I could say that it gets easier, but losing somebody is something that you can never forget, isn’t it?”

I nodded; it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. But she was right.

“I saw her in the hospital, sometimes I wish I didn’t; I didn’t want my last memory of her to be… her body.” Reina turned to look out of the window. It was the most emotion I’d seen out of her. She was always carefully measured. “I was depressed for a good while. There is no proper way to grieve, so you should do what you feel is right.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t know what to take away from the conversation – but it would be rude of me to not thank her for telling me about something so personal.

“You remind me of her, of Hana.”

I looked down at myself. “I didn’t realize she was so… masculine.”

Reina sighed, “No, silly. Hana was my twin sister, we’re identical. She was much… friendlier than I am. And wasn’t afraid to change how she looked. She liked her jacket too.”

“Is that why you spoke to me?”

“Not necessarily. I…” Her face twisted into a pained grimace, “I felt like something bad was going to happen.”

I frowned, sounds crazy right? “What do you mean?”

“Call it fate.”

“Fate?”

Reina spun on her heel to face me directly again. Her perfectly maintained hair flew through the air before settling back into it’s normal position. “Fate. I felt like you’d lost someone close to you.” Reina’s claim might have offended me or enraged me at another time. I felt resigned, I didn’t feel like arguing with her. Reina’s face showed a small amount of self-awareness, “I apologise. I am not making light of you.”

“If you could, would you bring her back?”

Reina seemed deep in thought, “I don’t think there’s a person in the world who wouldn’t. I would not interfere with the order of things…” It was a strange answer. Not questioning the integrity of the question, not the realism of it. Her assessment immediately bought into the idea that such a thing could be done.

Reina’s eyes glowed in the low light.

I looked to the ground. I had a sudden feeling of sadness, unlike the other kind of slow, lingering sadness that came with the death of my guardian. “I don’t have any family, I’m on my own.” I could hear Reina’s footsteps approaching, and then a hand on my shoulder.

“If you wish to speak, you can always visit the council room. I would be happy to have you. I assume you would prefer not to be referred to the school nurse.”

“No, I’ve already had that talk with them.”

I found myself glancing at Reina’s hand. It was perfect from one perspective. Smooth skin without a blemish, finely treated nails that were free from extra colouring. The light flush of blood running through them. I was reminded of how I’d admired her from afar for so long. She was a model student, her popularity enduring amongst many groups in the school.

“Maybe I will visit the club one day and hear you sing.”

I laughed her off, “Don’t joke about that pres, I’m a terrible singer.”

“There’s no such thing as a terrible singer, only those who haven’t practiced. That’s what my sister would say.” Reina removed her palm from my shoulder.

“But if you want – you can stop by. Our drummer, Kei, he’ll probably faint when he sees you though.” Kei was a big fan, huge fan, openly crushing on her at every opportunity. I didn’t want to be harsh, but he wasn’t the most attractive person and I highly doubted that the two of them meeting would go the way he was imagining.

“Ah, I understand.”

“I’ve got to go, since you know… I’m making my own meals now.” Reina took a deep breath and nodded. For some reason she seemed incredibly fixated on my eyes, the direct eye contact being unusual given her evasiveness.

“Have a good evening Hideki.”

When I returned to the lonely home that I now occupied. I couldn’t get it out of my head. I entered the downstairs toilet and looked into the mirror. My messy, semi-long hair was unchanged. MY skin had cleared up a bit recently, but nothing that would elicit such a reaction. I stared at myself, playing an impromptu match of spot the difference. But I didn’t see anything except the emergence of a new spot on one of my cheeks. I closed my purple eyes and turned off the lights as I left.