OUTCAST - satosugu

Chapter 4 - Whispers between worlds

SATORU'S POV:

The first weeks after he left I found myself locked in a numb hole. During this time, it seemed my whole life was composed of these disjointed fractions of time, hanging around in one public place and then another, as if waiting for trains that never came.

And, like one of those ghosts who are said to linger around depots late at night, asking passersby for the timetable of the Midnight Express that derailed twenty years before, I wandered from light to light until that dreaded hour when all the doors closed and, stepping from the world of warmth and people and conversation over-heard, I felt the old familiar cold twist through my bones again and then it was all forgotten, the warmth, the lights; I had never been warm in my life, ever.

I vastly remember the last look on his face, once luminous which now casted shadow and blended with the others through the crowd, although I've started to forget. 

Grieving is silly. I couldn't cry for days after he left, but now I hid in the kitchen having a sudden urge to sob because Shoko made tonkatsu, but it will never ever taste better than his version.

How come I couldn't realize? I knew something was wrong with him, and probably was the first one to notice. It was so easy to tell by a gloom permeating from his voice, the flinch of his eyes at any light surrounding him - he was always tired, and his short temper.

I asked him if he was doing alright but he told me not to worry, so that's what I did, trusting he found in me a good enough friend, or even an alibi, to tell me the truth. 

I couldn't reach him; state of mind which made me realize the hardest thing to do was grieve over someone who was still alive.

On the 48th day I woke up while a pale sun ray had just hit the windows of my bedroom and outside was covered in a thin layer of pearly snow. My vision was blurry and the image before my eyes stirred like a coffee.

I noticed a withered envelope at the edge of my windowsill; yellow, anonymous. A corner of the letter inside crumbled in my hand. The ink was smudged and cheap, but the writing felt familiar.

...............................................................................

28.01.2007

Dearest OBEDF7 

I am currently staying in a horrible place, and as I am writing I feel the walls ready to fall over me, but, I write to you in hope for a little break and to see how you are doing. How are you? What do you do these days? How is Shoko feeling? And Nanami? I really wish I could see you. But as soon as I finish this letter I am off to my new place of work, that I fear you would not like to hear about from what I know you, very well in fact.

You are mad at me. The skies have been gray and clouds have been storming. This is a day for staying inside and drinking hot tea, perhaps reading over this letter many times as I know you will do.

And as you spend today contemplating, enjoying a good sweet and swinging in your hammock, maybe bother writing in response.

Tomorrow is Monday and the post office is opened again. There is one close to campus if you happen to pass by.

Suguru

PS: I know you're gloomy. I like imagining you're happy when the sky is clear and blue and the clouds are porcelain. It's a childish pleasure. I slid a little something, maybe it will cheer you up, even if the slightest. Look up the code from your name.