The Pledge.
death...
It's inevitable. One day we'll reach the end of the line, the end of our lives. And all we can do is hope that it's a long way off, that the journey we'll take is as enjoyable and as beautiful as possible, that we'll experience all the tastes and smells, the sights and sounds that life has to offer, combined with the touch of a loved one resting on our skin.
Some journeys work out like that, others don’t. The old fart lying at my feet, for instance, is rather wishing that he could end his days curled up in bed, next to his wife of sixty years, the woman that he never really appreciated or paid much attention to. No, that's not what was planned for him, not what destiny had in store. His last breath is a drawn out cry of agony, his eyes look into the distance with unmistakable fear and pain before glazing over and slipping out of focus. I simply watch him, my face emotionless, jaded by how many times I’ve seen this scene. It’s always different, always someone I’ve never met but it’s still the same. Day in, day out.
"I thought I told you to wait for me."
His voice is just a soft, gentle whisper on the wind, yet it cuts through the air like a knife. I turn slowly, listening to his clothes rustle in the wind, watching the way the fire-red hair curls around his face with the breeze, obscuring his dark eyes from view.
“It’s not my fault you’re always late.” I hold back a smile, even though it wants to break free and look at the clock tower across the road. “Five minutes this time, you’re getting better.”
“You couldn’t let him have another five minutes?” Die looks at me incredulously, one thin, perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised – even now, he plucks them regularly- and he comes over to me and the body on the floor, examining my face closely with concerned eyes.
“No. You know the rules.” My voice is firm, allowing no contradictions, no arguments. Even though I didn’t make the rules, I strive to keep them, after being told I wouldn’t be able to see him anymore if I broke the terms of my pledge. That is something I can’t deal with.
“Toshiya…” His mouth twists into a smirk, a small chuckle breaks free from his throat because he likes it when I’m aggressive, but there’s something hidden beneath it. If I could see his eyes, I’d be able to figure out what, which is probably why he’s hiding them from me. “Toshiya, next time… please, wait for me.”
His crimson hair finally falls out of his face, exposing those calm obsidian eyes that always manage to make my silent heart flutter in my ribcage and he holds my gaze with a look that speaks a thousand words without a single syllable, a thousand sad words. “I don’t want you doing this by yourself anymore. You’re changing.”
I sigh, taking his hand in mine, feeling the cool skin beneath my fingertips, the touch making me feel alive again. He always makes me feel like that, like I have something to exist for, that I’m not just something to fear or hate. He squeezes tightly, a simple gesture that shows he never wants to let go and stands with me in silence for a short while. We both know it’s time to get going but we really don’t want to.
“So, is he going my way or yours?” He cocks his head to the side, measuring the corpse with a long, steady gaze.
“Yours.”
“And what about you?” He looks at me with eyes that know the answer, but still hold a hint of curiosity, almost daring me to say something different. “You coming my way?”
“We’ll see.” I whisper softly, with a smile that says ‘yes’.
Some journeys work out like that, others don’t. The old fart lying at my feet, for instance, is rather wishing that he could end his days curled up in bed, next to his wife of sixty years, the woman that he never really appreciated or paid much attention to. No, that's not what was planned for him, not what destiny had in store. His last breath is a drawn out cry of agony, his eyes look into the distance with unmistakable fear and pain before glazing over and slipping out of focus. I simply watch him, my face emotionless, jaded by how many times I’ve seen this scene. It’s always different, always someone I’ve never met but it’s still the same. Day in, day out.
"I thought I told you to wait for me."
His voice is just a soft, gentle whisper on the wind, yet it cuts through the air like a knife. I turn slowly, listening to his clothes rustle in the wind, watching the way the fire-red hair curls around his face with the breeze, obscuring his dark eyes from view.
“It’s not my fault you’re always late.” I hold back a smile, even though it wants to break free and look at the clock tower across the road. “Five minutes this time, you’re getting better.”
“You couldn’t let him have another five minutes?” Die looks at me incredulously, one thin, perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised – even now, he plucks them regularly- and he comes over to me and the body on the floor, examining my face closely with concerned eyes.
“No. You know the rules.” My voice is firm, allowing no contradictions, no arguments. Even though I didn’t make the rules, I strive to keep them, after being told I wouldn’t be able to see him anymore if I broke the terms of my pledge. That is something I can’t deal with.
“Toshiya…” His mouth twists into a smirk, a small chuckle breaks free from his throat because he likes it when I’m aggressive, but there’s something hidden beneath it. If I could see his eyes, I’d be able to figure out what, which is probably why he’s hiding them from me. “Toshiya, next time… please, wait for me.”
His crimson hair finally falls out of his face, exposing those calm obsidian eyes that always manage to make my silent heart flutter in my ribcage and he holds my gaze with a look that speaks a thousand words without a single syllable, a thousand sad words. “I don’t want you doing this by yourself anymore. You’re changing.”
I sigh, taking his hand in mine, feeling the cool skin beneath my fingertips, the touch making me feel alive again. He always makes me feel like that, like I have something to exist for, that I’m not just something to fear or hate. He squeezes tightly, a simple gesture that shows he never wants to let go and stands with me in silence for a short while. We both know it’s time to get going but we really don’t want to.
“So, is he going my way or yours?” He cocks his head to the side, measuring the corpse with a long, steady gaze.
“Yours.”
“And what about you?” He looks at me with eyes that know the answer, but still hold a hint of curiosity, almost daring me to say something different. “You coming my way?”
“We’ll see.” I whisper softly, with a smile that says ‘yes’.