“What’s the age-old saying?” I asked as Emi and I sat under a blanket in the silence of her spacious garden, staring up at the stars in the frigid February sky.

“Don’t eat yellow snow?” Emi supplied, popping a mochi in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

“Don’t ask the question if you don’t want to know the answer,” I took the proffered treat and took a bite. “Though the yellow snow one’s pretty good, too.”

“It’s not my place to question what you needed to do,” Emi shook her head. I’d come back to Emi’s house after the “incident” as Emi had taken to calling it and broke down in her room, rocking back and forth and sobbing inconsolably as Emi did her best to comfort me. I didn’t bother going into the specifics of what had happened, and she didn’t pry.

Once I’d calmed down a bit Emi had wrapped a blanket around me, one around her and grabbed a third and fourth and we’d come out to the garden. Even in the dead of winter the garden was peaceful and quiet. An oasis from the bustle of the city below. A refuge behind tall walls from the lights in the houses and prying eyes.

“You don’t need to question it,” I sighed, letting my hand drop to my side. “I question it. I accomplished nothing but acting like an idiot. I could have achieved the same thing if I’d just confronted her, I think.”

“I don’t know, Kasumin,” Emi shrugged. “She’s a tricky one. She always has an answer capable of inking the water enough to let her swim away scot free like an octopus. I’ve had people like that come over to the house quite often and they generally get away with whatever they’ve done simply because they’re like nailing down a drop of mercury. Just when you think you’ve got them pinned down, they squirt out and reappear somewhere else still in one piece.”

“Do you think she’s a bad person?” I asked after a moment. Emi shook her head with a sigh.

“I don’t know,” she finally answered. “My gut instinct is to say she’s not. But even if she’s not a bad person doesn’t doing bad things kind of make you a bad person by default?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I suppose it does. Well, it’s over, now.” I chuckled mirthlessly. “I kind of made sure of that tonight.”

“I guess you did at that,” Emi nodded.

“School’s gonna suck for a bit,” I sighed, my breath puffing out in the cold in an explosion of frost. “Home, too, now that I think about it.”

“There’ll definitely be a bit of awkwardness,” Emi agreed. “Not that there wasn’t already, of course. Maybe we should find somewhere else to eat.”

“I think you’re right about that. How about the cafeteria?”

“Weird,” Emi mumbled, deep in thought. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten in the cafeteria before. Do we even have a cafeteria?”

“Yeah,” I pointed out. “You buy bread from the vending machine there every Thursday.”

“That’s the cafeteria?” Emi gaped at me in surprise.

“What’d you think it was?”

“I had no idea. I thought it was just some weird common area that smelled like feet,” Emi shook her head wonderingly. “The things you learn.”

“It does smell like feet,” I agreed.

“We could always eat in my classroom,” Emi supplied helpfully. “Most of my classmates aren’t that obnoxious. Except Akihiko. He thinks he’s the great demon king of somewhere called Mara Oda. It’s best to just agree with him otherwise he’ll follow you around all day trying to prove it.”

“Good to know. That sounds fine. We’ll eat in your room.” These were, of course, trivial things, I thought. Minor issues of no real importance. But somehow it seemed important. It felt as if no matter what else happened, my life would go on. I would have somewhere to sit and eat lunch, even if everything else was gone. “Home’s going to be a different matter.” I mumbled, shaking my head.

“You’ll have Mio,” Emi pointed out.

“Yeah,” I nodded. I already had the beginnings of a plan to deal with home in the worst-case scenario. I couldn’t count on Jun not telling my parents and, as I told him, in a very real way I welcomed him doing so. Hiding like this, living in fear was no real way to live anyway. “I will go home after work tomorrow and face things there.”

“Are you sure?” Emi popped another mochi in her mouth and looked at me worriedly.

“As much as I’d love to, I can’t hide forever,” I shrugged lamely. “Life goes on, even if I did make a fool out of myself.”

“Just be careful,” Emi warned me. “Aria may be mercury, but Jun is a cobra. You hurt his pride, and it’s not something he’s likely to forgive or forget.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m sure he’s already plotting something as we speak.” I rubbed my eyes which were dry and itchy from crying so much and leaned back. “I’m not worried about myself. He can’t do much more to me except tell my parents. But who knows who he’ll try to drag down if given half the chance.”

“Just be careful,” Emi scowled. “I have no idea what got polluted in the gene pool when Jun was made but he’s a grade A shitgibbon and can’t be trusted.”

“Believe me,” I assured her. “I’m well aware of what he’s capable of. When it comes to petty, hateful shit Jun’s proven time and again there’s no sewer too low for him to crawl into.”

“Good!” Emi nodded in satisfaction, chowing down on another mochi. “I’d hate to have to get involved.”

“Are your family Yakuza?” I chuckled. Emi glanced at me, stone-faced. “Wait…are your family Yakuza?”

“Let’s head in, it’s getting cold,” Emi stood, stretching in the chill air.

“You’re worrying me right now,” I admitted. “Why aren’t you answering?”

“I’ll have Miss Harada make us waffles in the morning,” Emi declared, wrapping the blanket around her as she headed back toward the house. “I like waffles.”

“Emi?” I hurried after her. “Are your family Yakuza? Come on! Don’t leave me hanging like this!”

I hurried into class the next morning, looking neither left or right as I took my place near the window and pointedly stared outside. My head was throbbing as the other students began to file into the room. I had no idea how to handle being in the same class with Aria. Awkward didn’t even begin to describe it. I’d always heard that relationships with someone you worked with were a bad idea. I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised when that also included people you went to school with.

I had no idea if she was in class once Ichikawa sensei began. I couldn’t bring myself to look in her direction. I kept my head pointed toward the book, looking at nothing, listening to nothing, thinking only of getting through the day with a minimum of drama. I had almost made it as the clock ticked over toward lunchtime when I felt the phone in my pocket buzz. I sighed quietly and slipped my hand into my pocket, making sure the teacher’s back was turned to us.

You don’t owe me anything. I know. Would you please meet me on the roof at lunch, though? Aria had texted me. I scowled. Fuck, I thought. God fucking dammit. I didn’t want to meet her anywhere for anything.

She was right, I didn’t owe her anything. In fact, if anyone owed anyone, she owed me, I scowled angrily. What the hell could she possibly have to say to me? Or, more importantly, what was there left for me to say to her? I typed out a hasty “Go fuck yourself” but my finger paused over the send button. I sighed and shook my head wearily.

Fine.  I replied. Shooting off a quick text to Emi to let her know I’d be a bit late for lunch.

Don’t do anything foolish. Emi texted back quickly.

I’ve already done foolish. Not much further down that hole I can go.

You know what I mean! Emi’s skill and speed at texting constantly took me by surprise.

I’ll be careful.

Good. Don’t forget to pick up bread for me from the foot place!

Will do. I answered with a smile.

While the air was cold, and breeze blew off the ocean there was no rain falling from the gray Tottori winter sky. I closed the door to the rooftop behind me and pulled the collar of my jacket up to guard against the cold on my neck. I knew instinctively where she’d be. There would be no doubt. I turned to the left and moved around the edge of the entryway to find Aria standing with her back to me staring out over the town toward the mountains to the west.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” Aria said, not turning back to face me.

“I said I would,” I replied simply, not daring to get any closer than I was.

“Yeah,” she nodded ruefully. “You did. You always kept your word. I’m glad one of us could.”

I stood for a long moment, watching her back, her blonde hair billowing in the faint, chill wind. It was here we’d first met what seemed like a lifetime ago in a different world. Here I’d saved her from the seniors. Here I’d taken my first steps into an orbit I had no business traveling in. I took a deep, unsteady breath and pushed my hands into my pockets.

“Why did you want to meet?” I finally broke the silence.

“I know you don’t want to hear excuses from me,” Aria responded after a long pause. “I don’t really have any to give anyway. There’s a lot I could say. A lot more I probably should say and maybe one day I’ll be able to tell you everything. That’s if you even want to hear it. But not any time in the near future, I don’t think. What I’ve done is too raw and if I tried right now it would just be hollow and useless, I think.”

“Then why call me up here?” I demanded irritably. “You don’t owe me anything and I sure as hell don’t owe you anything. I’m pretty sure I said all I wanted to last night.”

“I just wanted to know one thing,” Aria’s shouldered stiffened slightly at the tone of my voice. “If you’d humor me, that is.”

“What?”

“Why did you give me the tennis bracelet?”

“I didn’t know I needed a reason,” I scowled.

“Please?” Aria begged quietly. “It’s important to me.”

“Because I loved you and you wanted it and I wanted you to have it,” I shrugged.

“Loved…” Aria’s voice was little more than a whisper, her head nodded once. “Thank you. I won’t insult you by trying to give it back. But I will cherish it forever.”

“Do what you want with it,” I shrugged, turning to return back the way I’d come. “Happy Birthday, Aria.”

“Thank you.” She said to my retreating back.  “I still love you and always did. I never lied about that.”

“Why should I believe you or even care?” I shook my head in wonder she could even say something like that.

“There’s no reason for you to believe me, but I can’t imagine you don’t care. At least somewhere deep inside. Even now.”

“What difference would it make if I did?” I chuckled hollowly. “Would it change anything? Would it make it any better?”

“Maybe not,” Aria agreed. “But maybe it would. Maybe not now, but someday it might.”

“Somehow I doubt that” I muttered.

“For what it’s worth, I can’t begin to tell you how sorry I am, K-chan.”

“Trust me,” I replied, “you’re not half as sorry as I am. Goodbye, Aria.” I glanced around one last time at the place where it had begun and was now ending for good and sighed before walking woodenly back to the door and disappearing inside.