message in a bottle | soudam

Day 18: Halloween, Part I

I leaned against one of the posts on the bridge, awaiting Gundham Tanaka's arrival. Seven minutes remained until your meeting was supposed to start. I looked down at myself and ajusted my belt a little. Today, I was dressed in a much tidier way than usual; I wanted Gundham to understand I wasn't just a desperate teen padding after a princess, and maybe even make a friend in him.

However, my outfit (comprised of a clean Catfish And The Bottlemen top and blue jeans) was spectacularly mediocre compared to what Gundham arrived in shortly. His was a long black coat with a thick curl of cream faux fur at its hood, covering his hair and framing his serious face. The ends of the coat blew in the low breeze to reveal a white top, thick black trousers and his signature long, purple scarf. I had to admit, he looked like the kind of person you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley, but, in his strange, dark way, Gundham looked fairly attractive. Self-conscious, I tucked my hands into my hoodie pockets.

''Greetings, Souda. In all honesty, I was not certain you would show up. It seems I was incorrect not to trust you,'' Gundham chuckled, raising his chin.

I wasn't quite sure how to respond. ''Oh, uh, thanks. I was looking forward to today, actually,'' I shrugged, scuffing my foot in the ground awkwardly.

''Ah,'' Gundham smiled his bright smile, ''Shall we go, then?''

I nodded eagerly and he began across the bridge again. I glanced at the spot where the first bottle had been placed as I trailed swiftly after him and tried to recall what had been inside. The suicide note had mentioned the bridge once, I remembered.

The little river between our houses. The bridge he crosses twice daily. The trickling water to carry me away.

I repeated this part in my head over and over while we walked in silence. Whoever this person was - I hoped Gundham, who seemed to know something about the notes, could tell me more - lived on the opposite side of the bridge to the other person mentioned in the note, I realised, and that person crossed the bridge twice every day. That narrowed the possibilities down greatly, but not enough. I decided I would have to skip school a few days to watch the bridge and make note of anyone who crossed twice daily.

Gundham interrupted my ideas with a thoughtful hum, ''What are you pondering, Souda? You have been quiet. We have nearly arrived, however.''

''Huh? Ah, okay. I was just thinking, I guess,'' I stuttered. Gundham's house loomed above me. It was one of the three-storey ones that sat on the opposite side of the bridge, a row back from the riverside facade. This house in particular had interested me for a while: it was painted black rather than white or pale yellow and gargoyles sat on its window ledges instead of flower boxes. ''You will get used to the scent,'' Gundham assured, turning his key in the lock.

As the door swung open, I didn't think I would get used to 'the scent'. A wall of odour came rushing forward, eager to escape the confines of the breeder's house, and flooded into my nostrils. Gundham must have noticed my staggering step backwards as he chuckled absentmindedly. ''Upstairs is less... hard on the nose. I do apologise, my animals tend to smell at the end of the week.''

I nodded and followed Gundham up the steep staircase. The smell was indeed weaker here, but it still lingered in the corners, waiting to attack those foolish enough to seek it out. He led me to his room, which I gazed around eagerly.

It was a fairly small room, with a four-post gothic style bed in one corner taking up most of the space. A large pet cage rested on a wide black chest of drawers opposite the bed, which, upon further inspection, contained the four hamsters Gundham often had on his person. Various records were stacked against the cage. A desk and chair of the same painted black wood as the chest of drawers sat before me.

Gundham had moved quickly across the room and was now seated on his bed. He gestured for me to join him. I obliged cheerfully and broke the silence before it grew into an uncomfortable one. ‘‘Nice room.’’

‘‘Yes, I do agree. It took me a long while to create the perfect atmosphere for the Four Dark Devas and I.’’

‘‘A-ah, makes sense.’’

‘‘Indeed, well, what would you like to do?’’

‘‘No idea. What do you usually spend time doing?’’

‘‘Exercise, homework or tending to my animals,’’ Gundham explained, forcing a frown onto my face. It didn't seem he did anything particularly for fun, which struck me as odd. If he noticed my confusion, he did not show it as he spoke again. ‘‘Would you like to see my animals?’’

I nodded, eager to see if this was his entertainment. ‘‘Ooh, that sounds fun!’’

Gundham stood up and headed to the hamster cage. ‘‘These are the Four Dark Devas Of Destruction,’’ he began, eyes keen and sparkling.