"Lament of old mouths, blood of old supplications.
Love me, companion. Don't forsake me. Follow me.
Follow me, companion, on this wave of anguish.

But my words become stained with your love.
You occupy everything, you occupy everything."

- Pablo Neruda

Autumn, 1966

In the high-class Azabu neighborhood in Tokyo, evening ended earlier than usual. Businessmen reported back to their wives by 7 PM. Schoolchildren went to and from school religiously, without making any unnecessary stops, except perhaps to purchase goods in a nearby convenience store at the strict orders of one's mother. Storeowners closed down earlier, too; perhaps the only two industries that didn't cease to function were the police and the bar nearby.

The streets were already empty when it started raining.

A tall young man, who operated the neighborhood beauty salon, stooped down to sweep the floor scattered with strands of black hair as the aftermath of his day job. The man, unwantedly equipped with a string of female admirers, was quite handsome. Among his most noticed features were his long, dark hair that he pulled into a low ponytail, his ivory white skin, and his prominent nose that accompanied an all-knowing gaze. What made him especially desired was his knack for giving advice to his female customers - may it be about love, family, or financial matters, he knew what to do. Despite this he knew that this admiration could only do so much; most of his customers were either housewives or high-class teenage girls he had to distance himself from due to his relatively low income and poor family background. These were wives and daughters of the people who ran the country - he can look, but he can't touch.

These, however, were not his only reasons.

While cleaning up, the chimes he had installed made a ruckus and he heard the door open and close. "Ma'am, we're closed - "

"Saito."

Oh.

"Rima-san, we're closed - "

"Saito. Saito, fuck me."

A short, blonde woman strolled inside his peaceful salon, drunk, and latched herself onto Saito, who diligently dragged her to one of his chairs. Her face was evidently flustered, and her eyes were red out of either sheer drunkenness or excessive crying. Upon sitting down, Rima kicked her boots off and proceeded to unbutton her cardigan, to which Saito restrained her.

"Don't do that. You're drunk." He placed both hands on either side of her head and gave it a proper shake. Rima pushed him away.

"I'm not immensely drunk. Don't mistake me for one of those trashy women who down too much helpings of gin. I'm fine. I can count."

"Then what are you doing?"

She laughed. "I was just testing you."

Saito rolled his eyes, arranging the shoes Rima kicked off. "You know I'm gay, crazy bitch."

"That's no way to speak to the future First Lady of this country!"

The young man scoffed. "And that's no way to act, Ms. future-First-Lady-of-this-country. You should look at yourself. If anyone heard you, you're.." He drifted away, careful with his words.

Rima burst out crying.

"You know I'm already ruined, Saito," she sobbed. "I just - I don't know. I came here for some service. Will you shave all my hair off? That's what you do, right?"

"No, sorry, not when you're like this."

"Then do something, dammit!" The depression eventually grew evident - her sobs turned into hyperventilation, with the sudden upheavals of breath making her cough severely. The sight of it all - a lady in her thirties crying like a child - made Saito pity on one of his only friends in the area, and he pulled her in for a hug.

"Shhh. Honey, it's okay. What's wrong? You can go tell me."

"It's fine. I just - can I have a cigarette?"

"Mm." The young man broke away from his hug, to get two cigarettes and a bottle of vodka just in case. Rima accepted the tokens with glee, lighting the cigarette and inserting it into her mouth. The sobs had stopped. She calmed herself down with the exhalation of smoke, a sensation that gave her the familiar, bittersweet pang on her small chest as she leaned back and enjoyed the taste of death.

She eyed her cigarette carefully. A red ring appeared on the stick, its whiteness stained with her unruly lipstick.

Saito did the same - but he hated the smoke, and toyed with the idea of how he'll sanitize the place from the pungent smell in time for tomorrow. To avert his selfish thoughts, however, he waited for his companion to speak, but she took her time.

He gazed at her sadly. Rima was at least five years older than he was, but she was a lot sickly and smaller. Her eyes were always tired, evidently fatigued, and her mouth was always in a signature frown. She never looked perpetually happy.

This wasn't the first time she had seen her helpless, nor was it the first time she came barging into his door at nighttime crying - but among those experiences, it was certainly the worst. Her clothes were all messed up, and her skin was as pale as ever. As he waited for her to speak, he wished for the prolonging agony to never end. Selfish as it may seem, this evening encounter, for some reason, seemed like the last - and in a bad way.

"Sorry for doing this again, Saito." She murmured as she struggled to finish her cigarette, her fingers trembling. The young man continued to stare at her in silence, for he knew one wrong move could earn him another breakdown - and he wouldn't want that.

To Saito, Rima wasn't just a regular. Despite being a member of the elite, she was the only person who truly cared for his presence in the neighborhood. She hated everyone living there, including her husband and her sons, of whom she spoke badly of. Once in a while when evening struck, when everyone already hid away in their homes, she'd escape from her mansion to come be with her so-called best and only friend for a bottle of wine, only to come home before her husband did. Despite her problems seeming like trivial annoyances she'd vent to him about, he knew her issues were serious - and they got physical, too.

"Okay." The princess finally spoke, taking off her purple cardigan that revealed bruises of the same color dotting her seemingly flawless skin, up on her shoulders and her back. He predicted that there were more on her lower back, her legs, and even perhaps her breasts.. but he tried hard not to talk about it. "Sorry about that. So, what's up?"

Saito winced. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

"No, I'll talk about it later," she shrugged. "I can stay. Is there anything up with you?"

He pursed his lips, struggling to remember if anything interesting went on in his life as Rima stared back at him while tying her hair up into a bun.

"Nothing interesting."

"Alright," she reached out to pour vodka into her glass. "Let's talk about something we've never talked about. How's your family?"

Saito shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Rima raised an eyebrow, shaking her glass in circles in order to evenly mix the alcohol. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I was orphaned as a kid.."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, no, no!" The young man laughed. "They didn't die. I just got lost, that's all. I hardly remembered it."

Rima tilted her head in interest, leaning back as she sipped on her beverage. "Do tell."

Saito wasn't particularly uncomfortable with recounting the fragments of his past, for he rarely thought about it. He mostly focused on school, and when that was finished, work - that was how he was raised.

"It was before I came to Japan from America, after the war," He started. "After a few months over there, my father missed the motherland, and when he heard his mother's favorite traditional dancers were going to visit, he decided to buy a ticket. He expected the show to be packed with the Japanese, but the place was full of soldiers hoping to land an Oriental girl, and we were the only ones there to actually appreciate the art."

Rima chuckled. "What happened?"

"Well, the finale was really beautiful - breathtaking, actually - and it got to a point where she was so good, the soldiers just had to have her. I mean, I couldn't remember what on earth was going on or what the dances seemed like, but I remembered her performance perfectly to this day. That was how good she was. Or he, because I learned she was a boy after the performance."

Rima's eyes widened in surprise. She was going to speak, but Saito continued.

"So, like, after the performance the soldiers started to stampede and I got lost in the crowd, separated from my father. An American soldier found me and took me in, and he wasn't like one of the perverted ones, luckily. His family raised me in America and I became who I am now, yeah."

Saito smiled - awkwardly, this time - as he proceeded to pour himself his own helping of alcohol, while his friend continued to stare as if the story wasn't done yet. She wondered why he wasn't particularly swayed by that tale, for she thought it was tragic in its own. Acquaintances of hers would recount much trivial events of their past in tears, but Saito didn't even bat an eye.

"Huh," Rima raised the glass to her lip. "Didn't that even bother you? You don't even look sad. It sounds traumatic."

She waited for him to respond as he raised his eyes as a sign of contemplation. He murmured, ".. not really. I never really cared. My new parents were nice, and I hardly remembered anything."

"Ah."

"Yeah," Saito chuckled. "I don't even know my last name! I was like, 5 or 10 or something. I forgot. The only thing I remembered was my first name because my dad kept screaming it in the crowd until he faded away. That, and the fact that I was Japanese."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Rima nodded. "And you never tried to look for them? Why did you come back?"

"Nope. My American parents died, too, luckily -"

"Luckily?"

"Sorry. I'm not yet done. Luckily when I was almost finished with college. That was when I decided to move back to Japan and start a new life. I have no idea why, it just called out to me."

"Why a beauty salon? No offense, but.."

"Because."

Saito stood up to turn on the fan, looking back at Rima who was fiddling with her cardigan buttons.

The rain continued pouring, getting heavier by the minute.

"Because it's what I studied, and it's what I love. My parents accepted me for who I was when I told them I wanted to pursue beautification as a career, despite me being a guy. When I came out, they were alright with it; society, not really. Upon coming back here I didn't exactly tell anyone except you what my sexuality is."

Rima, again, nodded as she stared into her empty glass. "I understand. There was a time I thought I was lesbian, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. In high school. I never told anyone, though, until now."

"Ah."

"Maybe I still am, though."

Saito was caught off-guard as he glanced at the woman in front of him, who, in turn, looked him in the eye with a deadpan expression. She held her empty wineglass in front of her face, right across her mouth, and proceeded to attempt drinking the remnants of its contents.

"You're kidding."

"Somehow," Rima muttered. "but I only ever loved one person in my entire life, and she was a girl - or at least, I thought she was. Your story reminded me of her."

The young man raised an eyebrow in confusion as he waited for her to continue, to which she succumbed to his expectations.

"I was in high school. She was a girl in my class, big whoop. It took a while before she got famous as a traditional Japanese dancer, but after an incident in America she was discovered to be a man. That was way after she ditched me in Junior year, though." She inhaled deeply.

"So you weren't the only one enchanted by the great Fujisaki Nadeshiko?" Saito grinned as he pulled out his wallet, revealing an old picture of the dancer inside his wallet. When normal men would have pinup girls concealed in between the recesses of their money, this one had a picture of a crossdressing male in a kimono, among other things. "Ah, so we shared a first love."

"Yeah."

"What happened? Why did she leave?"

"Career and shit," Rima scoffed. "I mean, I understood, but I quite imagined planning our lives together, you know? We didn't have to be together, but we were best friends. I should at least be in the picture, but she forgot about me. Completely." She leaned forward to pour more vodka into her glass. "It was the worst I've felt, ever."

Worse than those bruises? Saito wondered, but was too afraid to ask.

"When she left, everything just went downhill, like poof." Rima tried to re-enact an explosion in her hands. She stared across his shoulder, at the huge mirror behind Saito's seat, used for hairdressing. She saw nothing.

"Okay, Rima, it's your turn." He put down his glass on the table, and leaned back on his leather chair. "Tell me everything. Please."

"Alright," she cleared her throat. "I lived a fairly normal life when I was a child. My parents were both hardworking and had reputable roles in society, therefore I was what you could consider privileged. In elementary school I went to a co-educational public school, but upon reaching high school, for fear of getting impregnated by my peers I was transferred to well-known private all-girls school. I was the only one new.

"That was when I met her - Nadeshiko, I mean. I hated her the moment I saw her, for she was too beautiful for my eyes to completely take in. Her skin was perfect compared to the bruises I had on my legs due to too much clumsy tripping; her hair was flawless and looked well treated. Her face was absolutely radiant. Everyone admired her while I was looked down upon due to my smallness and lack of social skills. Yeah.

"We weren't exactly nice to each other and treated each other like rivals, despite her being obviously better at everything. I hated her for stealing all the attention and for being a major teachers' pet, and she hated me for being the only one who hated her."

"What happened? How did you two become friends?"

"Well," Rima gulped the last of her glass before reaching out to pour another serving. "there came a point she started being nice to me, so I started to do so as well. We became the best of friends. She taught me how to be pretty, and she was the only one who actually made me feel special, besides my parents. We were inseparable and we knew everything about each other - or so I thought. She knew everythning about me, though.

"But I never knew she wasn't female."

Saito questioned, "When did you know you fell in love with her?"

"When she left."

The rain continued to pour heavily, and before the two companions knew it, an hour and a half had already passed. There weren't much days as sad as this. It was the kind of day when the weather felt like they knew and grieved for your remorse as you sunk deeper and deeper into a leather chair. It was as if the climate mocked you, and enjoyed doing so - it hugged you bitterly, enveloping you in a cold embrace, and laughed at your reminescence with the pitter-patter of raindrops upon the asphalt pavement. Despite this, you can't exactly do anything about it, except perhaps turn the heater on and wait for the rain to stop.

The curse of silence continued to dread them. Rima sought to continue.

"She left me in my weakest moment," she started. "My parents had already started bickering while trying to maintain a joyful family facade, and I believe that's worse than not concealing the tension at all - because they make you hope. Despite your awareness of the ongoing conflict, the fact that they turn a mask on makes you believe that this isn't the end; that they wish to come back to how they used to be. And I was hopeful it'll return to normal, for five months until they legally separated."

"I'm sorry - "

"Despite this," Rima interrupted. "The last day I saw her - Nadeshiko - was still the worst of my life."

They were both in front of the Seiyo High School gates, and coincidentally, it was in the middle of the spring when the cherry blossoms were ripe to bloom. The petals fell all around them; the sky shone bright, and the birds chirped, as if to celebrate something. There was no justification for whatever had to be celebrated though. The blonde teenager was in tears.

"I'm sorry I have to leave," said the tall, dark-haired girl standing in front of her, holding both of her hands. "I promise I'll return."

"Promise, Nadeshiko?"

Nadeshiko smiled. "Pinky promise. You can write to me anytime. If your parents continue fighting, just tell me, and I'll reply as soon as possible."

"If you don't reply, I'll - "

"I'll reply, Rima. Don't worry." Nadeshiko started laughing. Rima stared at her best friend, about to leave, and she could feel a painful pang in her chest as tears continued to well in her eyes. She didn't understand, though - how could she be so attached to this person? They were best friends, right? Just friends.

"I have to leave now, it's almost 6." Nadeshiko pursed her lips, shrugging. "My flight's in three hours, so.."

"No," Rima interrupted. "Please. Just a little bit. Let me look at you."

This was the first time she looked at her best friend seriously, prolonged. In a huff she took in Nadeshiko's facial features, and for the first time, she looked particularly different. More attractive or so. Rima swore she could feel something weird and different inside..

"Rima."

"Wait."

She continued looking at Nadeshiko, holding both her hands as she squeezed them for the last time. This might be the last time she'll see practically the only person she cherished her entire life. She wanted to try something new.

"I really have to go now - "

Rima pulled on Nadeshiko's tie, causing her to stoop down.

" - so if you have anything else to say, please - "

And before they both knew it, Rima kissed Nadeshiko. Hard. It surprised Rima that the feeling was practically mutual, and that Nadeshiko kissed back - was it to not embarrass her? Or maybe because she wanted to kiss her as well?

Her lips felt nice - really, really nice. Nicer than the ice cream they ate on Saturday afternoons, or the novels they both shared to enjoy. It felt nicer than the beach, or skipping class.

The way she kissed was nothing like the way she moved, or the way she talked, or the way she looked at her sometimes. This time, it felt different, and for the first time she was sure of what she felt.

She felt everything - from Nadeshiko's teeth bumping into hers, to her own hair flying around with the cherry blossoms and sometimes stinging her face. It was awkward for a first kiss (since she knew for a fact that both of them have never kissed anyone before) but damn.

Damn.

For some reason, Rima started crying again.

"Why can't this last forever?" She murmured as she pulled away. ".. And why didn't we do this earlier?"

"Don't cry."

They kissed again.

Nadeshiko pulled her in closer and closer, and Rima felt deliberately consumed more and more. Her knees felt even weaker when her best friend started wrapping her arms around her waist, and Rima could feel her heart pounding so hard it could knock itself out of its ribcage any moment. It was as if her lungs had stopped functioning temporarily, if only to prolong Nadeshiko's mouth onto hers.

Rima felt utterly confused as they pulled away slowly, flustered. Nadeshiko was, too, as evidenced by the aversion of her eyes and the way she covered her lips in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," Nadeshiko murmured.

But in truth, Rima didn't care. She didn't mind at all, until..

"Rima?"

Her mom saw.

This chapter is divided into two, and the second part I will upload later this week. I promised an update of this, and I'm sorry that my writing took a deep U-turn and that this took so long, like, a year.

Promise I'll finish this, I think it'll only last four chapters anyway.

So, thoughts?

If you wish for more of my writing, I have a series of Really Bad Oneshots uploaded, but one of my most underrated stories is Why They Left, which is essentially a story revolving around why our favorite group of teenagers fell apart. More teenage angst like this one, yay! I kinda discontinued it because it didn't really get the audience I willed for it, but I really liked the concept and wanted to continue, so yeah. Hope you check it out.

I'll also be rewriting The Art of Saying Goodbye, if you were wondering.

Cheers!