Candlelight Fantasia
Composed by Chiaki Nozomi
Risa.Satoshi
Day in and day out, it drove her insane. Most people had to find a piece of glass to see their reflection – all she had to do was look at the person across the room. Most people had to buy a mechanism to hear their voice – she just had to listen to the person next to her. Most people were one person – she was two.
Risa Harada could not go anyplace without feeling compared to her 'other self'. In her junior high years she struggled to find differences - measuring her chest, growing her hair long, becoming more popular - but she could still see people's eyes looking at her, then her sister. "How could two people who look so much alike be so different," they would wonder.
No, she and her sister were one in the same. Each learned that early on, and began their own separate roads – Riku the tomboy girl – Risa the girly girl. But their quest for individuality became a quest to find the differences and magnify them, trying to say to the world, "I AM ME! NOT HER!".
Perhaps that is why the brochure stood out to her. Normally she wouldn't have noticed the trash. First off, it lay in the middle of the sidewalk on a muddy day. Secondly, half of it was missing, probably ripped off by shuffling feet, and thirdly – it was on the ground. Risa never looked at the ground when she walked.
Still, the clichéd phrase of "Find yourself in Europe" appealed to her - a month away from her family, a month away from friends, a month in new places with new people. The possibilities were exhilarating. That afternoon she went to the bank and transferred all the funds in her checking account into a savings account. Every paycheck afterwards split the sum between the two.
Up until now, she kept her desire a secret. Not an easy feat, especially with her sister around. The two could never keep secrets from each other long. But now, after more than a year of saving, she had a nice sum of money at her disposal.
She didn't tell her parents or her sister of her desire to leave. She decided a letter would be sufficient enough, with a leave date and a return date. She didn't give a contact number for fear of disapproval.
She would be 'backpacking' it, thus packing light – four pairs of socks, four shirts, a swimsuit, a pair of shorts, two pairs of jeans, one pair of wind pants, and five pairs of underwear. She didn't fill up the backpack, but it would provide room for souvenirs or other trinkets she decided she needed.
She curled into a ball on her soft down bed. Her stomach felt like a million brats sucker punched it a million times ten and her body raced with excitement.
Tomorrow, tomorrow she would leave on the adventure of a lifetime.
"Well, you've done better than expected," Hiwatari said as he read over his son's transcript. "Too good, I dare say."
Satoshi glared at his father. Nineteen, with one master and one bachelor degree, and he says "Too good"? He almost scoffed. His father, while wealthy, never completed high school. A nice rags to riches story, but Hiwatari had to abhor the fact that his adopted son was millions times smarter than he would ever be. Even now, Satoshi could sense his father's uneasiness around him. His business may be successful, but he knew Satoshi could run it several hundred times more efficiently and effectively than himself. Satoshi snapped out of his thoughts as he noticed Hiwatari's mouth moving.
"...do next," he asked, glancing at his son with a skeptical eye. Satoshi didn't answer, thinking. The matter to consider is the inheritance. Satoshi chose his second degree, biology, but his first, business, had been mandated by his father. A degree in math would be the next logical step, but Satoshi wished to pursue a degree in the arts. If he so much as mentioned arts, however, Hiwatari would disown him faster than the blink of an eye. If Satoshi had the funds to attend his Ivy League schools, he would mention arts, in fact, he would command it. But no entry position job could cover the cost of a semester, let alone four years.
"Math," he replied. Hiwatari nodded, pleased.
"That is well." He pulled out a small stack of papers and handed them to his son. "As a graduation present I arranged a month long trip around Europe." Satoshi arched an eyebrow as he looked over the stack, basically detailing his bank account for the trip and what the maids packed for his trip. Several sample itineraries were also attached, along with road and Eurail maps. "You leave tomorrow morning to catch the morning train at eight hundred hours."
Tomorrow? Hiwatari wanted him out of the household for some reason, but what could it be?
"If you will be excused, I have matters to attend to," Hiwatari stated, and Satoshi rose and left the room, still stunned by the sudden vacation.
He walked to the elevator and left the office floor for his own. Ai, his personal servant, greeted him as the doors slid open with a smile. "Good afternoon Master. I'm pleased to learn that Master has graduated with high honors." He brushed off her comments, which sounded rehearsed. How many false congratulatories he would get today? "I have packed Master's clothes already and placed them in Master's bedroom," she called as Satoshi sauntered to his room.
A set of three suitcases lay beside his bedstead. He frowned and collapsed onto his bed. On the bright side, it was one less month to spend at home. On the other side, he could not figure out the motivation behind it. Nothing Hiwatari did was out of concern or love. Everything tied to ego or reputation, and if it didn't, well, no need for that then.
He sighed and closed his eyes. A tour of Europe was nothing new. He traveled with his father on business trips as a child, and at school such weekend trips were the norm. Just what did Hiwatari expect him to do for a month?
Paint.
Satoshi's eyes widened. A month away from his father, touring Europe, stopping and painting the choice scenes. He could build a portfolio over there, and when he was ready, send it off to an art institute to see if his skills were decent enough to warrant entry. If they weren't, he could abandon the idea and live his life as Hiwatari deemed fit.
He looked at the suitcases – too cumbersome. He would have to fit all his clothing in at least one or less so he had room for art supplies. No, those tourists in Paris he saw last month... they were using backpacks... Satoshi nodded with satisfaction. That would do.
He walked out of the bedroom to go to his storage room. Surely he had a backpack stowed away somewhere inside. He scanned the shelves before seeing a soft leather strap sticking out. He climbed up and grabbed it, then looked inside, measuring the volume. It would do. If he needed a larger one, he could buy one on the trip.
Ai crinkled her nose in confusion as Master walked back to his room, carrying an old bag of his, with a small smile on his face. She didn't have time to ponder the situation, because her pager went off with the orders to start preparing dinner for Master. She sighed and ran down the stairs to the first floor kitchen.
Risa looked at her ticket, then at the large sign, then at her ticket again. Not this early, not this soon... she couldn't be lost! "Where do I go," she moaned."Gate forty seven," a male replied, and Risa whirled to the sound, but saw no one looking at her, just the hordes of tourists scrambling about like mice. Perhaps she was imagining things? She looked at her ticket, then at the sign, still searching for her gate number. "Are you deaf? I told you it was at forty seven," the voice said again, and Risa turned around, glaring. Again, no one looking directly at her.
She heard a scoff to her right, but when she turned she saw no one again. "How rude," she huffed and looked back up at the sign, catching her train number instantly. Gate forty seven. She sighed, then wondered, "Where is gate forty seven?"
Satoshi gave up on helping the girl. Airheads like her were beyond help. Not only did she look him directly in the eye twice, but she didn't acknowledge his presence and went back to the sign like he never existed.
He pulled his luggage to the restroom, then opened the largest and pulled out his backpack. He scanned the hallways for street venders, and saw one at the corner. He walked over and plopped the suitcases down at the vender's feet.
"Whatcha doin' boy," the man snarled, "Whatcha doin' throw'n' dem bags down at me?"
"I'll sell all three to you for twenty," he replied.
The vender looked at the suitcases, then at Satoshi. "Whatcha mean sell dees to me fer twenty? I sees dees beefer. Dey was carried by dem rich folk."
"Circumstances do not allow me to carry these. You get all three suitcases and whatever's inside for twenty." The raggedy man opened one suitcase and inspected the clothing inside. His buggy ears near popped out of his head when he saw the label tags on the clothes.
"You say twenty pounds fer all dees?"
"For the third time, yes." The vender nodded and reached into a pocket Satoshi didn't know existed and pulled out a crumply twenty note, and tossed it to him. Satoshi grabbed the crumpled bill, nodded his thanks, and went on his way to the gates.
As he approached the stopping area, he heard the train groan. He cursed and dashed to the passenger cart. Just when he jumped inside, he heard a voice screaming "Wait!"
Satoshi turned and leaned out to see the airhead girl dashing towards the cart. He sighed and stuck out his hand to help her on as a gentleman should. She neared it and grabbed his hand, and he pulled her inside. "Thank God," she breathed out while catching her breath.
"Umm," she said, and looked around for the guy. She pursed her lips in frustration. Surely she couldn't be that oblivious! She looked at her ticket and stomped back to her seat. She frowned to see that her seat partner was already there, and worse, he took the window seat.
Satoshi saw the airhead approaching and a feeling of dread washed over him. No, not her, anyone but her... he almost groaned when she sat next to him. "I'm Risa Harada," she said, holding out her hand. Satoshi took it and they shook.
"Satoshi Bach," he replied, changing his last name.
Risa the airhead crinkled her nose in confusion before her mouth made a tiny 'o' and then pursed together. "I know that voice! You're the rude person from this morning!" Satoshi shrugged off her words, and looked out the window. "You don't have to ignore me, you jerk," Risa muttered in her mother tongue. Even though Satoshi was a Japanese name as well, he had an English family name, which meant he had to be a late generation Japanese in England. She spent the first ten years of her life in Japan, and moved to London after her father landed a job in the local branch of Polaris.
Satoshi arched an eyebrow at her remark, but didn't reply. He had a moment of silence before the girl started talking again. His stomach knotted as he realized that the train ride would be anything but peaceful.
"Where are you going," she asked, "You're backpacking it too, right?"
"Wherever I wish," Satoshi shrugged.
Risa's eyes widened, "But what if you get lost? Or run out of money? Surely you can't be that irresponsible!"
Satoshi side glanced at her. If anyone would end up getting lost, it was her. He decided not to voice that fact and returned to gazing outside the window. "You're not going to have that seat the entire trip, are you," Risa asked as she poked his shoulder, "I want to see Europe too." Satoshi didn't reply, and did nothing to acknowledge her existence.
Risa pouted and sunk backwards into her seat. Her trip already seemed to start off on a bad leg. She sighed and rummaged through the magazines sticking out of the seats. Nerd, money, business, nerd, geek, moron...she frowned – why wasn't there a ladies' magazine? One about interior design would have been welcome compared to this rubbish. She groaned then closed her eyes and quickly fell asleep.
Satoshi looked at the sleeping girl. She was pretty when that mouth of hers wasn't flapping. He gazed at each of her parts as an artist would – noting her slightly large forehead, the soft upward curve of her eyebrows, her long eyelashes, her button nose, her pink lips, her dainty chin that become a soft jaw line. She had a few pimples visible upon closer inspection; her makeup hid it well.
He pulled out his sketchbook and began to draw. Her long eyelashes were thin, not think, though she tried to make them larger with mascara, her hair was thin and dyed a light brown – her roots were beginning to show, eyebrows were left her natural black, her nose curved slightly upward...
The bell and the conductor's voice over the loudspeaker broke his trance. He quickly closed his sketchbook and shoved it in his backpack. The last thing he needed was the girl waking up and screaming about drawing her while she slept.
As the train slowed, he nudged her. "Get up." No reply. He repeated it once more, and when she didn't break out of her slumber, he shrugged it off. Can't say he didn't try to wake her. The train stopped completely and the conductor gave the okay to leave. Satoshi stood, raised his backpack over his head, and attempted to squeeze past the girl.
Risa opened her eyes and saw crotch. She didn't know whose crotch it was, nor did she care. She screamed out "Pervert!" and started babbling for help.
Security guards appeared out of nowhere and caught Satoshi in a hold. He glared at the brat, ordering her to come to her senses and tell the truth with his gaze. Risa's eyes widened in horror when she recognized him, and spat out, "I knew you were rude, but I didn't think you'd go that far!"
Satoshi groaned. He complied with the guards and went to the police box. Risa went along to give her statement, but even if she didn't she was curious as to what punishment he would receive.
"...And she refused to awaken, so I attempted to move past her. It was then she woke and started screaming the nonsense of myself being a pervert." The police head, an obnoxiously obese man with huge sweat stains at his pits inhaled, a pig like sound, and clicked his tongue.
"All right, I'll let you off, boy. And you missy should not fall asleep on the Eurail. Lots of crazy types on there, I'm telling ya."
Risa followed Satoshi out of the police box. "I'm really sorry," she said, "I didn't know you tried to wake me. I'm really sorry." Satoshi didn't reply and she frowned, but still forced herself to walk at his brisk pace. After a minute of silence she spoke again, friendly, trying to break the ice, "Where are you going now?"
Satoshi stopped abruptly, and it was several steps before Risa noticed his halt. She turned back at him, confused. "Why are you following me?"
Risa bit her lip, "I don't know... I just thought maybe -"
"Stop," Satoshi ordered and walked away.
"Yeah, well I didn't want to stay with you either," she yelled at his retreating figure. She stomped away, looking for the nearest café. Nothing cured stress like a piece of cake. Surely Paris had cafes out the wazoo!
Risa munched on a slice of carrot cake and sipped tea while she pulled out her itinerary. Check into her hostel, see a couple of museums, and off to Italy after that. She smiled. Never in her life had she felt so free and relaxed.
"Hello, is someone sitting there," a male asked jolting Risa out of her thoughts. She gave an inviting smile and shook her head. The boy had brown curly hair that was disheveled and he wore jeans and a dress shirt with the first couple of buttons free, exposing a bit of his chest.
Oh, Paris had its share of sexy Frenchmen.
He smiled and sat across from her. "Backpacking it?" She nodded. "That's cool. I did that a couple of months ago." They sat in silence before he bopped himself on the head. "Forgive me. The name's Noir."
"I'm Risa. Nice to meet you, Noir." What an odd name. She decided not to vocalize her initial surprise at his name, and instead prodded him about his trip. "Where did you go?"
"A couple months ago? Greece and Italy. Pay respects to the greats of old, ya know?"
"So you're an artist?" Noir blushed and nodded.
"You could say that. I'm not the best there is though," he replied and shrugged. "How about you? Anything you particularly like?"
Risa shook her head. "To tell you the truth, I'm on one of those 'soul searching' trips to find that. I've always been in the shadow of my sister. Or rather, joined at the hip to my sister."
"Sister? How old is she?"
Risa smiled, "She's my twin. I'm the younger one." Noir's eyes widened with surprise.
"Twin, eh? I'm the youngest child too, but my bro's three years older than me." Silence again. Risa felt shy around this man, she couldn't pinpoint exactly why, but something about him made her quiet. He looked sweet enough – his brown eyes were to die for – but his smile... seemed forced, fake.
"So, you doing anything tonight?"
"N-no," she stuttered. Noir laughed at her embarrassment. He leaned forward and motioned with his head for Risa to do the same. She leaned forward, confused and curious as to what required such a gesture.
He smiled and stared into her eyes. Risa held his gaze for a second before looking off. He chuckled, "You're cute. Would you like me to show you Paris tonight?"
Satoshi settled down in front of a fountain and pulled out his sketchbook. There was no need to check into his hotel; the arrangements had already been phoned in by Ai. Besides, everything he needed was in his backpack. He sat and sketched the fountain, trying to capture the reflective water and the soft gleam of the statues. Occasionally a girl would wander up and throw a coin into the fountain and begin rambling of her wishes for love.
"Excuse me Sir, but are you doing portraits," an old lady asked, leaning over to see his sketchbook. Satoshi quickly covered the picture with his hand. "I'll pay you to do mine," she continued, "I have to go to the hospital tomorrow for surgery. I think this will be my last portrait," she finished, voice choking up.
Satoshi didn't have the heart to refuse. He nodded and motioned for her to sit on the bench that jutted out of the base of the fountain while he moved to the edge of the his bench. Fortunately the benches had no backs or handrails, so he could sit at the corner and face her directly.
His stomach flip flopped as he drew her. For the first time in his life someone actually requested a drawing... Beads of sweat formed as he shaded wrinkles, and he frowned as he struggled to create her kind twinkle present in her eyes.
As he finished he became aware of the crowd around him, watching, talking, pointing. He paid them no mind and finished, signed it at the bottom, and handed it to the lady. She smiled and thanked him, then attempted to give him money. Satoshi took a fourth of it and gave it back to her. "I'm thankful for the practice," he explained and the woman smiled her thanks, rolled the picture up, and walked off.
Shortly after a girl sat and asked him to do her next. Satoshi thought of declining her request, but the feeling of someone enjoying and seeing his art brought a new exhilaration to the craft. Satoshi smiled as he worked, feeling free for the first time in a long while.
It was nightfall before he stopped, but if he knew what quitting would bring to him, he would've kept working at least another hour or so.