by Tay LaRoi
Tomoko laughed and set her cup down. “This isn’t about me. Where’s Ingrid now?”
“She’s around. I sent her sightseeing. She knows to leave without me.”
“You thought of everything, didn’t you?” Tomoko studied her old friend in silence and blinked away oncoming tears. “Well, if we have nothing left to discuss, what do you want to do?”
Ayame tried to ignore her sinking heart. Now that the moment had finally come, how could she not be ready for it? “I want to ask your forgiveness for leaving without explaining what really happened. It’s too late to ask my parents, but if you can forgive me, that will be enough.”
Tomoko nodded and took a few shaky breaths. “Of course I forgive you. How could I not? I forgive you and still love you, even if it’s not in the way I once did.”
Ayame held her breath, waiting for the process to start, waiting to disappear, turn into a beam of light, anything. Hopefully, it wouldn’t hurt.
Moments passed and Ayame still sat there, plain as day.
A few more passed, just as uneventful as the others.
“Did you and Ingrid have a backup plan?” Tomoko asked.
Ayame groaned, holding her head in her hands as if she could hide from her embarrassment. “No. We’re really bad at this.”
“I’ll say,” Tomoko chuckled. “Will you tell me about Ingrid? Maybe I can help.”
Ayame sat up and thought about her. “Ingrid is the strangest person I’ve ever met. She sees the good in every situation. She’s creative and resourceful. She doesn’t like to fight. She’s kind, smart, compassionate, and—”
“You have feelings for her,” Tomoko finished. Ayame tried to sputter out a counterargument, but Tomoko lifted a hand to silence her. “Don’t deny it. You acted the same when you confessed that you loved me. And I bet you’ve cooked all her meals since you moved in, haven’t you? I almost lost my figure thanks to all your cooking when we were together.”
Ayame shrunk in her jacket and stared down at the table.
“Do you think that she might be the answer? The love you two have?”
Ayame scoffed. “I’ve attacked her, invaded her home, dragged her out here… She just wants to be rid of me. Besides, I didn’t know Ingrid when I died. She wasn’t even born yet.”
“True, but you knew what love felt like, and you missed it, didn’t you?”
Ayame folded her arms and tapped her foot in response.
Tomoko laughed and shook her head. “You could roam this earth for a hundred years and you’d still be the most stubborn person on it.” She looked at her watch and got to her feet. “I’m sorry I can’t help you any more. Tell Ingrid how you feel. If she’s as strange as you say, she’ll probably surprise you.”
Ayame followed her friend as she paid for her coffee, introduced her as her niece, and left the cafe. “Where are you off to now?”
“I have to hurry home and cook dinner. I love my husband, but he’s completely useless in the kitchen. You’d be impressed by everything I can make now.” With a sad smile, she added, “If you get this whole curse mess taken care of, come see me. You’ll need to celebrate. Bring Ingrid.”
“But I’ll cross over when the curse breaks,” Ayame reminded her.
Tomoko shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. If I never hear from you, I’ll assume that’s what happened.” With another long, bittersweet look, Tomoko turned to leave. “Goodbye, Ayame. I wish you the best, both in this life and the next.”
“You too, Tomoko.”
And with that, the two parted ways for a second, and possibly last time.
The clock inside the station read 4:55. With no way to call Ingrid, Ayame decided to soak her feet in the small baths that bubbled and steamed outside the station. The floating sensation and the flow of the water felt good, even though she couldn’t feel the heat. It relaxed her so much that she nodded off. It certainly beat dealing with her thoughts.
Ingrid had feelings for her. What a joke. Even if Ayame hadn’t terrorized, harassed, and inconvenienced her for the past two weeks, there was no way Ingrid could love her. The gashes across her face made sure of that. And yet, Ayame could have sworn she heard a note of relief in the voice that woke her up.
“You’re still here.”
Ayame opened her eyes to find Ingrid standing before her, hair damp from the rain, a bag of souvenirs in her hand, and an uncertain smile on her face. For some reason, the sight made Ayame burst into tears. Before she could think better of it, she flung herself out of the foot bath and buried her face in Ingrid’s chest, holding her tightly as she sobbed.
Ingrid stumbled and wrapped her arms around Ayame. “It’s okay. We’ll think of something else. How was Tomoko?”
Ayame took a shaky breath, nodded, and wiped her eyes. “She’s happy,” she sniffed. “It’s just a lot to take in.” Suddenly self-conscious of onlookers, she mumbled, “Of course now I realize I can still cry.”
“Why don’t we go inside and talk about what happened?” Ingrid suggested. “And get your shoes back on. You’ll get sick with wet feet in this weather.”
“I can’t get sick,” Ayame grumbled, gathering her things.
“If you can cry, maybe you can get sick. Let’s not risk it.”
From the lobby of the train station, they watched the sky begin to drizzle, and Ayame explained what had happened, leaving out what Tomoko had said about Ingrid. Tired of talking about herself, Ayame turned her attention to Ingrid’s day trip. Ingrid played it down as uneventful and focused on new ideas to break the curse.
Ayame refused to cooperate, going to sleep the moment they sat down on the train, only opening her eyes to switch trains on the way back to Sendai. Luckily, Ingrid gave her the space she wanted. They could think of more ideas tomorrow, but as Ayame lay on the sofa late that night, straining to hear Ingrid breathe as she slept, her mind wandered away from the curse.
Instead, she wondered where she’d go next in her eternal time on Earth.
Eight
Something felt wrong when Ingrid woke up. A stillness hung in the air that she couldn’t articulate. She sat up to find her living room empty and the throw blanket neatly folded on the back of the sofa. There was nothing but silence in the kitchen. Ingrid shimmied down the ladder to investigate. Finding no more clues in the living room, she opened the door to search the kitchen.
Ayame’s shoes were missing.
Ingrid told herself she must have run to the convenience store up the street. It wouldn’t be the first time, but she always left a note promising to bring back change. Sure enough, a bright-pink note jutted out from the fridge. Ingrid plucked it off, expecting it to bring some level of relief. Instead, her heart sank lower with every word she read.
Ingrid, I’m sorry I didn’t wake you, but I knew you’d try to make me stay. You’re too kind to kick me out, so it has to be this way.
I realize now that there isn’t a way to break my curse. This is simply my existence now, and I refuse to burden you with it. You have too much life ahead of you for me to drag you down, especially with all my lies.
You never had to help me break my curse. I didn’t have to hunt you down and get an answer out of you. My curse doesn’t work like that. I just wanted to see you again. You’re so interesting, strange, and kind that I needed to know more about you. Please forgive me, and please be happy. No matter what happens in life, please don’t let anger or hatred consume you the way it consumed me. You’re too wonderful, too beautiful for that.
Goodbye. Thank you.
Your friend, Yamada Ayame
Ingrid threw the note in the trash, slipped on her shoes, and grabbed her keys. “Goddamn it.” Despite the shock of the late autumn chill, she didn’t bother running back inside for a coat.
But of course, that wouldn’t do.
“Ingrid, you’re going to catch a cold coming out here in your pajamas,” Mrs. Suzuki called from her front door. She frowned once she noticed Ingrid’s expression. “Is something wrong?”
“A lot of young people live here. You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Short, wearing a mask, long hair, black coat, big ears.”
Mrs. Suzuki perked up. “I just saw her heading toward the train station. Is something the matter?”
Ingrid took off while shouting, “I’ll explain later. And thank you!”
Of course, she didn’t know how much later that would be. She’d have to think of a believable story. Ayame would help her think of one. Ingrid just had to find her.
But how would she find someone who could literally disappear?
Ingrid scanned every narrow alley, every curved road, every face and the back of every head in her desperate search. Every time her heart jumped with hope, it would only fall again at the sight of an uncovered, normal face.
Ayame had to be near the station still if Mrs. Suzuki just saw her. If Ingrid could just make it across the street—
Except she didn’t see the red light. Or the semi.
Just as Ingrid realized her mistake, she felt herself fly in reverse. Her shirt collar choked her as she flew backward and landed hard on the pavement.
“Are you crazy?” a voice demanded. “We don’t need any American ghosts running around, dumb ass! And you’ve got a lot of nerve commenting on my ears with a nose like yours.”
Ingrid knew she should be shook up from almost dying, but she only felt relief as she looked up to see Ayame standing over her, regardless of the anger etched into her face. Her throat closed up and tears blurred her vision as relief washed over her.
Ayame let out a long sigh and offered Ingrid her hand. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t yell. Are you okay?”
Ingrid took Ayame’s hand and crushed her in a tight embrace once on her feet. “Don’t leave,” Ingrid begged. “I don’t care that you lied. I don’t even care if we stop looking for a way to lift the curse. Just stay.”
Ayame wiggled out of Ingrid’s grip. “I definitely pulled you too hard. You clearly hit your head.”
“Will you be serious for once?”
“No, you be serious. I’m nothing but trouble. How are you supposed to do anything with me hanging around?”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“Why are you so desperate to keep me around?”
“Because I love you.”
Ayame blinked, and Ingrid’s face began to burn.
“It’s not like I meant for it to happen,” Ingrid stuttered. “It’s just that I think you’re really strong and have a surprisingly gentle heart, and I meant what I said that night I met you. You really do have beautiful eyes and, geez, I’m making this worse.” As she massaged the back of her neck and stared down at the cement, Ayame began to laugh.
“You make it sound like it’s my fault,” Ayame wheezed as she held her stomach.
“It is, though!”
“No, you’re just crazy. I’m none of those—”
“Ayame? What’s wrong now?”
“Look at my hands.”
Ingrid began to ask why, but as the cold air brought red patches to the surface of Ayame’s knuckles, her question was answered. The two locked bewildered eyes, and then Ayame grabbed Ingrid’s hand and dragged her to the nearest secluded alleyway, not unlike the one where they first met.
Ayame reached up to pull off her mask and then froze. “Ingrid, I can’t. You do it.”
“Why me?”
“You love me, right?”
“That’s not playing fair.”
“Please?”
Ingrid took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and gently pulled down the mask. After a count of three, she slowly opened her eyes, expecting the same ragged scars to rip across Ayame’s face.
Instead, two faint lines stretched a few inches from the corners of Ayame’s mouth. Ingrid would wager that, if she didn’t know to look for them, she would have missed them completely. Without a word, she took Ayame by the shoulders and turned her to face the empty shop window to her left.
Ayame stared at the woman in the glass in silence. As tears filled her eyes, she lifted her hands to feel smooth skin for the first time in forty years. As the tears rolled down her face, Ayame began to laugh. Ingrid had never heard someone laugh with such purpose before. It was if Ayame had to make up for all those years of lost joy. When that joy overflowed, Ayame turned to Ingrid, stood on her toes, took Ingrid’s face in her hands, and kissed her long and deep.
Ingrid pulled Ayame close, soaking up the warmth that had been absent only moments before, and placed tender kisses along the thin scars. She chuckled when Ayame turned her head so that Ingrid had no choice but to kiss her mouth again.
“If we’re going to make this work, you’re going to have to stop being so controlling,” Ingrid laughed between kisses.
“Could be worse,” Ayame replied. “I could be chasing you with scissors.”
Ingrid pulled away but kept her arms tight around Ayame’s waist. “You let me win that day, didn’t you?”
Ayame grinned. Ingrid wondered if she’d ever stop.
“Maybe.” Ayame wiggled away but kept Ingrid’s hand in hers as they walked back toward the main street. “The universe isn’t fair, you know. Sometimes you have to give it a little help.”
About Tay LaRoi
Tay grew up reading too many fairy tales and watching too many movies, which is probably why she writes fantasy now. When she’s not at her day job or writing, she can be found taking spontaneous drives to new places, and drinking way too much coffee. Her first book, “Portraits of a Faerie Queen,” is set to be released in 2017.
Website: http://www.taylaroi.wordpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TayLaRoi
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TayLaroi
Other books by this author
The Faerie Court Chronicles
Portraits of a Faerie Queen
Also Available from NineStar Press
www.ninestarpress.com