3.1

Ordinary world

It was late but Hiro couldn’t sleep, he decided to take a stroll along with his book on origami. After some deliberation, he decided to put on his working clothing. Carrying just enough money for his purpose, a robbery would yield next to nothing. The empty street soon transitioned into one bustling with lights and people. Everyone was out here enjoying the night life. Be it tourists or gangsters, they all seemed to be having a time of their life.

Making his ways through the sea of leaflets. Hiro tried not to look at them, splitting images of him. Office workers littered the street, drunk out of their mind, trying to forget their miserable life. In one alley, one dressed exactly like him, the hair was the same as well. That man was puking while laughing and crying all at the same time.

There was another breed, those without a job, quite plenty in this age. Gripped with desperation, they had no idea what await, but there were still hope within their eyes.

Hiro made it there, only an imposing door in his way. Pushing open the heaviest door of his life, the young man made it inside the little bar called Glass Heel.

There, he was greeted by a familiar smile of that bartender. She was polishing a glass, a normal chore and she made it looked like an art. Her gentle yet professional smile still there where he expected it.

“The usual?” She asked, a routine question with no meaning.

“Yes” His answer the same.

Next to him were two other patrons, served by the head bartender. They seemed like people with stories but Hiro was not here to find out about that. Every since the operation two years ago, the young man had been coming here every month. Always the same drink, always the same bartender, every single month without fail.

This was what kept him going. Near death, her image was what inside his dying mind.

Hiro never knew what the drink was, he never asked. Yet, he still drunk it religiously, the best drink of his life. Before he could pick up the glass, however, Hiro found himself somewhere else.

Surrounded by those whose eyes only less dead than he, the young man was at work.

This tended to happen ever since he arrived at Eden for the first time. That world was dangerous yet vibrant, unlike his life here. And so, Hiro found himself time-skipping by running on complete auto-pilot. No one noticed that.

But no, he didn’t want to skip it, his time at that bar. Why did that happen, how could he. Hiro couldn’t tell, but he was sure of one thing, anywhere was better than here.

‘Rosebud’ He whispered.

___

There was a fight, two dead along with an animal. But the people on the train couldn’t care less. They were told to ignore everything coming from the final carriages and of course they complied. It was order from the Divine’s representative. And so, everyone continued to enjoy their ride in the vintage steam train through not the American desert while they read their books about the Wild West.

Hiro woke up inside his room on the train. Next to him was a familiar figure, sitting dutifully. It was Suiren, the bottom half of her mask was removed. Now she would function like a normal human, albeit with increased appetite to support her strength. Too bad Victor couldn’t remove all of the mask.

This was enough, just this half was enough to show how beautiful Suiren was. One day, maybe one day he could witness it all.

Sitting up, Hiro looked down at his intact legs. Victor certainly did a good job here, although the doctor was displeased about this situation. The young man couldn’t tell why.

Hiro gazed outside, it was dark, he intended to take a sleep here after returning from work. But now, he didn’t want to. Inside him, there was a stinging pain, he didn’t get to taste it, his drink, he didn’t get to see more of that bartender.

He went into the kitchen, remembering that there was a bar of sort there.

Passing through the trashed living room, Hiro made his way there. Behind, he could here the faint footsteps of Suiren, a sound that had become a part of his daily life.

Inside, the young man found someone else also getting acquainted with the alcohols, it was Fleur. By an unbelievable stroke of fate, she was the only summoned to drink.

“Hi” Hiro waved at her and the woman nodded back “Hello”

“How are you doing?” He asked.

There was no reply. Only a sighed and Fleur continued to take another shot of whiskey. Her cheeks were already flustered, the bottle nearly empty.

Momo-chan: [If I have to guess, I would say she is not alright]

Hiro made his way to a stool next to her and sat down. To put it lightly, Fleur looked miserable. But even in a state like this, she was still pretty. That meant all the make-ups were still on point, her hair still perfectly done.

“Are you alright?” Hiro asked, what could have happened, when they returned being attacked she was normal. The young man tried to rack his brain for a reason, but this had proved to be slightly above his addled mine. Eventually, he did reach a conclusion. Fleur seemed capable but she was still a normal woman. That fight must have been taxing on her mind, kind of like ptsd of sort.

“My… nail, hic, I lost one” She said with a pained voice.

Why did the thought of Fleur being normal ever crossed his mind? Hiro threw his theory in the garbage. Inside, Momo was doing the same, the young man wondered what the voice came up with, couldn’t be better than him.

“I’m sure Vict…”

His sentence was cut short by a mourning Fleur “I did… he said for some reason, it couldn’t grow back. Must be because I blew it up… hic… with my power” She looked at her hand covered in gloves “Any part I used won’t return… hic…”

“Maybe you could get another nail then, a fake on?”

“Of course… but I spent so so much time cutting them, polishing them. You have no idea”

Momo-chan: [But doesn’t she always hide them with gloves?]

Hiro: {I… It’s best we don’t question this}

The woman pulled out a lighter and then clicked it. She wiggled it around, mesmerised by the little flame “Why do I have such a stupid power, wahhhhh”

“Um, maybe because you have affinity with f…”

“I am not a pyromaniac!” She cut him off again, her eyes still fixed on the fire. It was whispering something to her, Hiro couldn’t tell.

“Right, you aren’t… I will remember that”

The room was shrouded in silence, which wasn’t a bad thing. Hiro wanted himself some peace and quiet, but this was a concerning one. Fleur was still hypnotised by the open flame, as if she was going to torch the place. Maybe he should say something, a question perhaps, one to draw her away from the fire before he got turned into kebab.

“Fleur, so what do you do for a hobby!” That was all he could think of.

“Same old same old” The woman answered.

Momo: [What did that even mean!] Hiro: {What did that even mean!}

Maybe he could ask a more mentally stimulating question. Talk about a challenge. Believe it or not, back in the day Hiro was quite a social butterfly for a short while. But the last two years had taken much from him, including the ability to hold a conversation. He tried to think about something she would be interested in, there was make-up, but he knew nothing of it.

“Fleur-san… can I ask you something”

“Shoot”

Hiro was still racking his mind for a question, he finally got a basic one “What do you want to do, I mean, what is your dream?”

“Huh” Now that seemed to catch her attention, the woman turned to him. Her cheeks were still cherry red “Now where did that come from”

“I just want to know more about you” And please put away that fire.

The woman mind was working to think of a reason why he could possibly ask that. But tainted with alcohol, all the gears were starting to come off. Might as well.

“Promised you won’t laugh”

“Of course not!”

“I don’t believe you, pinkie swear it!” She said, sticking her finger out.

Alright, she took this way too seriously. Was this dream going to be something outrageous, out of this world. Hiro was starting to get curious. He accepted this promise. It was time for the grand reveal.

“Ok, my dream… hic… I wanted to be married to a handsome actor. And I don’t mean just handsome, he needs to be stunning, ripped with six pack, dreamy eyes. He would provide for me, taking me out every day to eat in the fanciest of restaurants, walking on the beach together. Then, at night, we would cuddle… hic” She said, drowning in her fantasy.

“It’s nothing to laugh about, I would love for someone to provide for me” He could want nothing more than being rescued from his work… or did he. After saying it out, Hiro wasn’t sure if he truly wanted that. Why though, he had no love for this job, yet not having it seemed alien.

“No no no” Fleur was displeased with that “I am not some hobo, I am drowning in money. There are probably cases of diamond around my place. I could buy a new necklace, but I wanted someone to gift it to me, to put it on for me with his gentle hands while looking into my eyes” The woman looked down and continued bitterly “I have a stupid power and a stupid dream… hic”

Hiro wondered how much make-up artists made. Probably not enough to have ‘cases of diamond’ lying around. But judging from the content of her bag, the young man could be sure that she had another source of income, one that he shouldn’t try to dig up.

“I… don’t think that’s stupid at all” He didn’t need anyone to provide for him. But the young man wouldn’t mind another operation to be able to take a stroll on beach everyday with that bartender. To cuddle with her, to kiss… He was turning red from all these. From just the kissing part? Really? He wasn’t a kid anymore.

Hiro turned around to see Fleur burning holes through him with her gaze.

“Do you really mean it?” There was a sparkle of innocence in her eyes. This Fleur was no longer burning, just a rather adorable ember.

“Of course…” His answer, sincere.

“Didn’t think anyone would think that… Everyone I know, they always mocked me for that. ‘It’s childish’, going on about how a woman needs to be progressive, need to be strong and independent. They said I am shallow. But I don’t want any of that, I hate strong and independent. I want to be pretty and… to have a strong handsome man to lean on” She, of course, didn’t leave out the ‘handsome’ part, now that was essential. Was the woman in front of him ‘shallow’, Hiro wondered.

Fleur wasn’t done though “You know, you sure can listen. I wonder if that’s why that Eikichi looked up to you so much”

“Um, I am pretty sure that was a joke” Hiro scratched the back of his head.

“Nah… back in that wood, he said ‘damn I look cool’, I always thought that was odd”

“How so?” The young man couldn’t see how that was related to the other.

“He always did the most outrageous, I could tell, that is a man who didn’t care about what others think of him” She said “Yet, that was his words, I thought he was just commenting about himself at first. But no, I am sure, Eikichi wanted to look cool in front of you, Mr. Hanazawa”

“That…” Hiro didn’t know what to do with this information. It was just talking of a drunk woman, he tried to brush it off, so much for a good listener.

“I couldn’t see why though… especially after that fight with Jack”

“Why is that?” The young man wondered, he would like to think he put up a valiant effort.

“What? You think that was brave or something?” Fleur immediately dashed that.

Hiro was starting to feel annoyed with this woman. What did she know? He put himself through all that pain, he tried his best and that was what she had to say. He wanted to refute her, but Fleur was looking with him with sadness. What with those eyes, did she chipped her nails or something.

“It wasn’t bravery, no, it was just suicidal”

“I… I tried…”

“Without any plan? Did you think you could just run up and grab his face!” Fleur seemed emotional “That wasn’t bravery, no, you looked like a moth to the flame, as if you wanted to go out with a bang… No, it was as if you WANTED to look heroic. I… I don’t like that” She wanted to say something deeper, but in the end, ‘don’t like that’ was all that her alcohol addled mind could come up with. “But, I am sure… hic… there is something else in there… hic” The woman lied on the counter and snored softly. The bottle of whiskey was emptied and now she was out cold.

Hiro couldn’t mutter a single word. He couldn’t accept what she was saying and yet, the young man remained silence.

The young man sent Suiren to bring the beautician back to her room while he retreated to his own. A creature of habit, Hiro didn’t forget to change out of the bland white shirt and tie. He lied on the bed, looking up on the empty roof as the carriage shook slightly, the rhythm eventually lured him to sleep.