Nobody

Chapter 13

Upon the cascade of her warm breath, Shoji, arms folded, leaned against the wall as she watched her mother indulge in crochet.

Her hands gyrated in hypnotic motions as it worked to create something out of yarn.

She planned to make a gift for Nandini. And as a way of gratitude, she thought of weaving a practical item — a small basket made out of blue yarn — which she'd hand over to Nandini the day she decided to visit them again.

Beside Shoji was a shelf mounted on the wall filled with 80s antique, holding an immeasurable amount of sentimental value to her mother, and along with those were framed photographs of her, Kioshi, and Yua.

They weren't exactly the most stable family within the ambit of those pictures, but they were close.

At least, they used to be.

The only person who had extinguished their bliss was Yua's mother. Once they had escaped her, they moved from one residence to another. Crestwood wasn't an instant forecast in Yua's head.

Since a permanent home was beyond them that time, they were forced to help each other. Sticking together and making it through the dark alleys, smoke-tainted neon chambers, and busy crowded markets of Tokyo to get by until they were ready to jet off to another world.

Then, at Crestwood, Shoji seized a vantage point of a different childhood. More effervescent and lively than hers. Less on the grunge and dull circumstances where one had to slip past burly men with firearms and shortened cigarettes between their teeth. Or an old woman, who would have to be loving towards her grandchildren, ending up as a fractured shard of nightmares she wanted to leave behind.

Knowing that the children in Crestwood were, suffice to say, quite privileged with their lives, Shoji felt the pressure to imitate them. And then, she met Haley Stewart. One of the first people who welcomed her in this big leap of her life.

They were genuine. Their friendship was real.

Haley, one day, invited her new friend to her bedroom where she introduced her dollhouse. At the moment of her recall, Shoji reminisced the way they laughed at each other and gave life to toys. They roleplayed. They poked fun at someone else. They gossiped. They were kids.

But childhood was impermanent.

Eventually, the pastel colors of life ebbed into teenage angst and normalcy. The game shifted to cliques and popularity. At the cusp of high school, Shoji met, once again, another change in her life, albeit an unwelcome one. Something that made her uneasy.

Haley found a new friend: Chelsea Rupert and brought that introduction with her at arm's length with a wide and innocent grin on her face.

Chelsea was a different kind of girl. While Haley seemed nice, Chelsea was brutally transparent with her feelings. She wasn't afraid of letting her attitude jump out of her. Over time, Shoji noticed that Haley and Chelsea were getting closer than ever, somewhat leaving her out in their triad relationship.

Whenever they walked down the hallway, Shoji found herself falling into step behind them, like a forgotten dog frequently on the tail of her owners.

As a manifestation of her fears, of losing the one good friend she had, the distance between them worsened where Shoji always rejected party invitations from Haley. She often retreated to her bedroom, hugging her knees, with her head buried in the comfort of her own flesh. Tears dampened her face.

Finding a cure to this gradual detachment wasn't easy. Shoji dealt with it as is. She couldn't do anything because it was Haley's life, not hers. She didn't want to be labelled a control freak for wanting her first and only best friend to herself and no one else.