Moirai
I
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Kyo sneered as he held a blood-soaked bandage up to his forearm. “This is ridiculous, there’s no way our label can make me do anything.” He sucked his lips in, looking like he was about to spit in disgust, but managed to suppress the urge to dirty the hospital floor.
Toshiya adjusted the phone between his ear and shoulder before attempting to reason with Kyo, “They said they would very heavily consider dropping us if you didn’t go to therapy. They’re tired of having to pay these medical bills. After they heard how many stitches you needed this time, they’re concerned about negative press. With the recent string of suicides in the news, they don’t want this to get warped and become a political issue.” Toshiya stopped for a hurried breath, “If anything happens, the record company can say you are in therapy and it will save all of our asses. They already have it all figured out.” Toshiya’s mind was racing a thousand miles a minute – he had to plea with the stubborn record company and subdue a very irritated Kyo while both parties were shouting obscenities at him in unison.
“What I do on stage and how I preform has nothing to do with them. I had no part in those random people’s deaths. They can fuck off! I don’t care what they think! The label never has their shit figured out anyway!” Kyo yelled – definitely loud enough for management on the other side of the phone to hear.
Toshiya’s phone let out a screeching cacophony of yelling, and he winced from the sudden volume change. He handed the phone to Kyo and sighed, “Here, if you want to yell, yell at them. I don’t need to be in the middle of this.”
Kyo snatched the phone and without saying a word he ended the call. He set Toshiya’s phone face down on the edge of his hospital bed. “I wasn’t going to get anywhere with them. They always give us so much shit for no reason, maybe it’s best they drop us.” He slumped in bed and blotted his wound.
Just a few hours before, Kyo had slashed his arm with a piece of broken glass. It wasn’t uncommon for Kyo to need the blood wiped off him after a concert – there had been plenty of anticipated hospital trips. This wound spurted out blood for the remainder of the set, leaving Kyo’s face and torso stained. Once the set ended and the cut was still oozing a thick blood-like substance, it was apparent that it needed medical attention. He tried to wash the excess goo from his body before getting to the hospital, but little dry flakes of blood clung to his eyebrow hair and the peach fuzz on his cheeks. The wound itself wasn’t very big, but it was deep. It was about the size of a pocket lighter, with ragged edges and a light pink ring of gooey flesh surrounding it. Patches of deep blue and purple bruises were beginning to surface around the mangled area. Kyo’s constant dabbing of the wound was only making it more irritated, every time the bandage touched his raw flesh, the now red-stained fibers would become tangled in his viscous flesh.
The tension in the room had dissipated once the phone call ended. Toshiya let out a deep breath of relief; now only one person would be yelling at him. He loosened his shoulders and got into a more comfortable position in his chair, “I agree this is a bit insane.” He let out a groan and furrowed his brows, “You’ve been hurting yourself on stage for years. This isn’t even the worst cut you’ve given yourself.” He closed his eyes and thought in silence for a moment. Slowly, he opened his eyes and pushed his hair away from his exasperated face, “But, I don’t think it’s smart to burn a bridge like this. Just go to a few sessions of free therapy. It won’t be that bad. They’ll get over it once the news jumps to the next topic.”
Kyo sat stiffly and continued to pick at his open wound. He winced every time he pulled out a piece of debris but continued to dig his fingers into the cut. Other than the occasional flinch, his facial expression remained completely flat.
Since it appeared he had no intention of replying, Toshiya continued, “Look, they already had their minds made up. The rest of the band isn’t going to let us lose a record deal over something stupid like this. Just go to the therapist they find for you once a week. It isn’t going to kill you.” Toshiya stood up and waved Kyo’s hand away from his injury, “If you keep picking at it like that, the poor nurse who has to stitch up your arm isn’t going to be very happy either.”
Kyo scowled as he saw Toshiya head for the door. “Where are you going?”
“I have to deal with the record company and they need me to fax them some medical forms from tonight.” Toshiya stopped with his hand on the door, “You will be fine without me here, right?” He jokingly asked.
“Yes, I’ll be fine, I’m not six years old.” He glared daggers at Toshiya, who dared to tease him during such a crisis.
xxx
Dust particles gently wafted through the room, only visible through the portal of natural light flooding in from the window. They danced in and out of visibility, twirling with one another until they quietly ended their journey into the aging, tawny carpet. Once at rest, they patiently waited to be brought to life by a gust of wind or other commotion.
A new layer of floating grime made its way to the rug as books and papers were being shuffled about the room. Aurelie sighed and looked at the clock, which read 4:25 PM. An appointment had been scheduled for 4 PM sharp. If clients don’t show up after the 15-minute mark, usually they won’t come at all. The appointments were only 45 minutes long, after all. This meant more time for busy work and signing clearance forms – but doing absolutely anything else was also preferable.
She looked at the papers and shuffled them again, her eyes glossing over the words but not retaining any of the information. Important documents such as patient files and hospital records nonchalantly drifted through her hands. Sitting and absent-mindedly looking through paperwork had become a workplace meditation. It was a valuable time to clear your mind before the next client came through with a whirlwind of their own thoughts.
The door to the office opened slowly, moaning with every little movement. The creak echoed throughout the room – everything seemed to stand still as the commotion dissipated. A man poked his head through the opening and scanned the room.
Aurelie curtly stood up and straightened her navy pencil skirt. Her rolling office chair was propelled backwards and softly bounced off the bookshelf behind the desk. She rushed to the door to aid the man, as he looked quite confused. With the door handle firmly in her palm, she asked “Are you looking for suite 201?”
Remaining just as puzzled as before, the man said nothing. He continued to shift his eyes around the room.
“Psychotherapy with Dr. Aurelie Miwa?”
He lowered his eyes and let himself in from the foyer. Upon his entrance, the atmosphere of the room became tense and uncomfortable. His eyes peered through Aurelie as he stood in silence. Something about his gaze was unusual; he had dark almond shaped eyes with a stare that could make anyone uncomfortable. His entire demeanor was antagonistic, uninterested, and totally dissociated.
Aurelie’s expression hardened in a moment of contemplation, and then she stretched her arm outward, pointing towards the couch. “Well, if you are here for therapy, then please have a seat.” She gave a lopsided half-smile.
He nodded and made his way to the corner and sat down. As he walked, his footsteps made loud thumps on the stiff carpet. Although he was a shorter man, his gait was confident and heavy-footed.
Aurelie smoothed out the back of her skirt and carefully sat in her usual chair. She looked up at the man, only to notice he was also emptyhanded. “Did the front desk not give you an information sheet to fill out?” Her light brown eyes shone in the light filtering in from the window.
The man fumbled inside his coat pocket and pulled out a crinkled sheet of paper. He leaned forward and let her take the paper from his hands.
“Ah, thank you” She gingerly said. Aurelie’s eyes frantically scavenged the information sheet for any information on the client, but nothing of much interest was written. All it contained was basic information, but Aurelie took special note of his name. The handwriting was very small and meticulous. At first glance, one might think it was typed because all the characters looked so perfectly written and symmetrical.
Aurelie cleared her throat and crossed her legs, putting the wrinkly paper to the side for now. “So, Nishimura Tooru-”
He abruptly cut her sentence short to speak his first word, “Kyo.”
“Excuse me?” She questioned. Her soft facial features twisted into a confused look.
“I prefer to go by Kyo. Not many people call me by my birth name.” He stated this very matter-of-fact, as if Aurelie should have known this information right off the bat.
“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” she stammered, taken aback by the entire bizarre interaction. She noted his preferred name on his sheet for future reference.
Aurelie reached into the end table adjacent to her chair and pulled out a clipboard. She held it out to Kyo, but he made no indication of acknowledging its presence. “It’s a sign-in sheet. Clients sign it at the beginning of every session to say there were here on a specific day and time. It’s just for our records.” She extended her arm further, nudging the clipboard closer.
He begrudgingly took it, and hastily wrote only Kyo. The handwriting was very different from that on the original information sheet. Aurelie studied his scrawled signature for a moment, but then cast it aside with the rest of his paperwork.
“Now that we have all that worked out, I’m Dr. Miwa. You’re more than welcome to call me by my first name, Aurelie, if it makes you feel more comfortable. What brings you in today?”
“I’ve never heard that name before” He mumbled while looking at his shoes.
“I’m partially French, so my mother wanted me to have a French name since I have my father’s Japanese last name. Some people just call me Ari since Aurelie doesn’t really roll off the tongue.”
“Ah, I thought you had a funny accent.” He bobbed his head and gave a sly smirk. He knew that it didn’t matter what he said during the appointment, she didn’t know anything about him. He could spew lies the entire time and she would eat it up. He didn’t think of himself as higher than her, but he certainly found her to be an inconvenience. Kyo got a devilish sparkle in his eye as he decided that he would test his luck with this psychologist.
Now that his gaze was on Aurelie, he took a second to observe the woman that he would be trapped with during the coming weeks. She looked nice enough, her facial features were soft and feminine. When she spoke, her short blonde hair bounced up and down and her facial expressions were extremely animated. She seemed rather easy to read, Kyo wondered if he could use this to his advantage. Her eyes were bright and full of life, she seemed to genuinely enjoy whatever she was talking about.
Aurelie closed her eyes briefly and exhaled. She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t jeopardize the already frustrating relationship with Kyo. “Well, have you ever been to therapy before?”
He shook his head and his mop of bleached-blonde hair bounced into his face. He moved his eyes back to the ground; he didn’t want Aurelie to be able to read him too well.
“Well, let me start off by saying that anything said in here is confidential, and nothing leaves this office – unless, of course you express some desire to harm yourself or others.”
He moved his gaze from the floor to Aurelie’s eyes again. Something about her perplexed him – he wanted to study her more. The sudden shift in intensity sent a shock down Aurelie’s spine. Desperate to break from the chilling eye contact, she studied his face and posture.
He had a very masculine jawline and high cheekbones with a flat nose. His hair was bleached blonde, short, and worn in a messy style. It looked like he may have not combed it today, but it also looked like it could have been styled that way on purpose. He was covered in tattoos, sporting them on every area of visible skin on his torso and arms. Aurelie momentarily contemplated the complex enigma that was Kyo’s personality and life.
Aurelie took a deep breath and tried once more to prod Kyo, “Has anything happened recently that may have prompted you to come in?”
“I’m being forced to come here.”
His sentence was cryptic and incredibly vague.
As Aurelie opened her mouth to speak, Kyo interjected, “I don’t want to talk about it.” His words were full of venom.
Aurelie raised her palms in a gesture of apology, “That’s alright. We will take things at whatever speed you feel comfortable with.”
His facial expression remained unwavered as the room fell silent. The only noise being made were the faint creaks from the foundation of the old office building.
Desperate for conversation, Aurelie racked her brain for topics, “Where are you from?” Her quiet voice wavered with the question.
“Chiba.” He spat out. He looked up to the ceiling and inspected the Styrofoam white panels.
“Oh, that’s not far from where l used to live. I was over in Yotsukaido. Did you end up going to school there too?” Aurelie leaned in, curious for his response.
“I went to senior high school there, and attended university for a year, but dropped out.”
Aurelie thought it was odd that he didn’t specify exactly what school, since there were many in the area, but she didn’t want to push her luck any more.
She examined her watch and smiled, “Well, it appears our time is almost up.”
“Great.” He sarcastically remarked and scoffed.
Aurelie scrunched her lips to the side as she thought, “I know you really don’t want to be here.” She empathetically gave him a small smile.
Her blunt statement surprised Kyo, and she now had his attention.
“I’m sorry you’re being forced to come here, but sometimes things are meant to happen.” She took a deep breath in, “When I was younger and would get upset about something seemingly small, my mother would always tell me about Moirai, or the Greek concept of fate. It’s the idea that deities watch over the mother-thread of every mortal to be sure that their life goes as planned by the Gods. So, although you may not want to be here, you may need to be here.”
Kyo was at a loss for words and gave her the same blank stare. He didn’t believe in fate, let alone some Greek white-robed schmucks watching over his entire life.
Aurelie tried her best to smile, “When will I be seeing you next, Kyo?” She wasn’t sure if her speech about fate had worked or not, but it was worth a shot. It usually worked on hard to crack patients.
She stood up and made her way to the door. Kyo followed suit and lingered, waiting for his chance to escape this prison.
Realizing that she was waiting for a response, he stumbled over his final words, “I’m required to come once a week, so whenever that happens.”
Aurelie preemptively opened the door, expecting a clear answer from him. Seeing his opportunity for freedom, Kyo rapidly left the office and disappeared into the waiting room. All that was left of him was the distant sound of the bells jingling on the front door.
It all happened so suddenly that Aurelie stood frozen for a few seconds, trying to compartmentalize the past twenty minutes. She grimaced and grabbed Kyo’s files from the table. She clutched them firmly in her hands and inspected them with the utmost care, hoping to find some clarity.
Her eyes quickly skimmed the contents of the paper line by line but found no answers. Aurelie groaned and sunk back into her desk chair, knowing that the only way to attempt figuring out Kyo was by being patient and waiting until next week.
Kyo was the only thing on her mind during the train ride home.
Toshiya adjusted the phone between his ear and shoulder before attempting to reason with Kyo, “They said they would very heavily consider dropping us if you didn’t go to therapy. They’re tired of having to pay these medical bills. After they heard how many stitches you needed this time, they’re concerned about negative press. With the recent string of suicides in the news, they don’t want this to get warped and become a political issue.” Toshiya stopped for a hurried breath, “If anything happens, the record company can say you are in therapy and it will save all of our asses. They already have it all figured out.” Toshiya’s mind was racing a thousand miles a minute – he had to plea with the stubborn record company and subdue a very irritated Kyo while both parties were shouting obscenities at him in unison.
“What I do on stage and how I preform has nothing to do with them. I had no part in those random people’s deaths. They can fuck off! I don’t care what they think! The label never has their shit figured out anyway!” Kyo yelled – definitely loud enough for management on the other side of the phone to hear.
Toshiya’s phone let out a screeching cacophony of yelling, and he winced from the sudden volume change. He handed the phone to Kyo and sighed, “Here, if you want to yell, yell at them. I don’t need to be in the middle of this.”
Kyo snatched the phone and without saying a word he ended the call. He set Toshiya’s phone face down on the edge of his hospital bed. “I wasn’t going to get anywhere with them. They always give us so much shit for no reason, maybe it’s best they drop us.” He slumped in bed and blotted his wound.
Just a few hours before, Kyo had slashed his arm with a piece of broken glass. It wasn’t uncommon for Kyo to need the blood wiped off him after a concert – there had been plenty of anticipated hospital trips. This wound spurted out blood for the remainder of the set, leaving Kyo’s face and torso stained. Once the set ended and the cut was still oozing a thick blood-like substance, it was apparent that it needed medical attention. He tried to wash the excess goo from his body before getting to the hospital, but little dry flakes of blood clung to his eyebrow hair and the peach fuzz on his cheeks. The wound itself wasn’t very big, but it was deep. It was about the size of a pocket lighter, with ragged edges and a light pink ring of gooey flesh surrounding it. Patches of deep blue and purple bruises were beginning to surface around the mangled area. Kyo’s constant dabbing of the wound was only making it more irritated, every time the bandage touched his raw flesh, the now red-stained fibers would become tangled in his viscous flesh.
The tension in the room had dissipated once the phone call ended. Toshiya let out a deep breath of relief; now only one person would be yelling at him. He loosened his shoulders and got into a more comfortable position in his chair, “I agree this is a bit insane.” He let out a groan and furrowed his brows, “You’ve been hurting yourself on stage for years. This isn’t even the worst cut you’ve given yourself.” He closed his eyes and thought in silence for a moment. Slowly, he opened his eyes and pushed his hair away from his exasperated face, “But, I don’t think it’s smart to burn a bridge like this. Just go to a few sessions of free therapy. It won’t be that bad. They’ll get over it once the news jumps to the next topic.”
Kyo sat stiffly and continued to pick at his open wound. He winced every time he pulled out a piece of debris but continued to dig his fingers into the cut. Other than the occasional flinch, his facial expression remained completely flat.
Since it appeared he had no intention of replying, Toshiya continued, “Look, they already had their minds made up. The rest of the band isn’t going to let us lose a record deal over something stupid like this. Just go to the therapist they find for you once a week. It isn’t going to kill you.” Toshiya stood up and waved Kyo’s hand away from his injury, “If you keep picking at it like that, the poor nurse who has to stitch up your arm isn’t going to be very happy either.”
Kyo scowled as he saw Toshiya head for the door. “Where are you going?”
“I have to deal with the record company and they need me to fax them some medical forms from tonight.” Toshiya stopped with his hand on the door, “You will be fine without me here, right?” He jokingly asked.
“Yes, I’ll be fine, I’m not six years old.” He glared daggers at Toshiya, who dared to tease him during such a crisis.
xxx
Dust particles gently wafted through the room, only visible through the portal of natural light flooding in from the window. They danced in and out of visibility, twirling with one another until they quietly ended their journey into the aging, tawny carpet. Once at rest, they patiently waited to be brought to life by a gust of wind or other commotion.
A new layer of floating grime made its way to the rug as books and papers were being shuffled about the room. Aurelie sighed and looked at the clock, which read 4:25 PM. An appointment had been scheduled for 4 PM sharp. If clients don’t show up after the 15-minute mark, usually they won’t come at all. The appointments were only 45 minutes long, after all. This meant more time for busy work and signing clearance forms – but doing absolutely anything else was also preferable.
She looked at the papers and shuffled them again, her eyes glossing over the words but not retaining any of the information. Important documents such as patient files and hospital records nonchalantly drifted through her hands. Sitting and absent-mindedly looking through paperwork had become a workplace meditation. It was a valuable time to clear your mind before the next client came through with a whirlwind of their own thoughts.
The door to the office opened slowly, moaning with every little movement. The creak echoed throughout the room – everything seemed to stand still as the commotion dissipated. A man poked his head through the opening and scanned the room.
Aurelie curtly stood up and straightened her navy pencil skirt. Her rolling office chair was propelled backwards and softly bounced off the bookshelf behind the desk. She rushed to the door to aid the man, as he looked quite confused. With the door handle firmly in her palm, she asked “Are you looking for suite 201?”
Remaining just as puzzled as before, the man said nothing. He continued to shift his eyes around the room.
“Psychotherapy with Dr. Aurelie Miwa?”
He lowered his eyes and let himself in from the foyer. Upon his entrance, the atmosphere of the room became tense and uncomfortable. His eyes peered through Aurelie as he stood in silence. Something about his gaze was unusual; he had dark almond shaped eyes with a stare that could make anyone uncomfortable. His entire demeanor was antagonistic, uninterested, and totally dissociated.
Aurelie’s expression hardened in a moment of contemplation, and then she stretched her arm outward, pointing towards the couch. “Well, if you are here for therapy, then please have a seat.” She gave a lopsided half-smile.
He nodded and made his way to the corner and sat down. As he walked, his footsteps made loud thumps on the stiff carpet. Although he was a shorter man, his gait was confident and heavy-footed.
Aurelie smoothed out the back of her skirt and carefully sat in her usual chair. She looked up at the man, only to notice he was also emptyhanded. “Did the front desk not give you an information sheet to fill out?” Her light brown eyes shone in the light filtering in from the window.
The man fumbled inside his coat pocket and pulled out a crinkled sheet of paper. He leaned forward and let her take the paper from his hands.
“Ah, thank you” She gingerly said. Aurelie’s eyes frantically scavenged the information sheet for any information on the client, but nothing of much interest was written. All it contained was basic information, but Aurelie took special note of his name. The handwriting was very small and meticulous. At first glance, one might think it was typed because all the characters looked so perfectly written and symmetrical.
Aurelie cleared her throat and crossed her legs, putting the wrinkly paper to the side for now. “So, Nishimura Tooru-”
He abruptly cut her sentence short to speak his first word, “Kyo.”
“Excuse me?” She questioned. Her soft facial features twisted into a confused look.
“I prefer to go by Kyo. Not many people call me by my birth name.” He stated this very matter-of-fact, as if Aurelie should have known this information right off the bat.
“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” she stammered, taken aback by the entire bizarre interaction. She noted his preferred name on his sheet for future reference.
Aurelie reached into the end table adjacent to her chair and pulled out a clipboard. She held it out to Kyo, but he made no indication of acknowledging its presence. “It’s a sign-in sheet. Clients sign it at the beginning of every session to say there were here on a specific day and time. It’s just for our records.” She extended her arm further, nudging the clipboard closer.
He begrudgingly took it, and hastily wrote only Kyo. The handwriting was very different from that on the original information sheet. Aurelie studied his scrawled signature for a moment, but then cast it aside with the rest of his paperwork.
“Now that we have all that worked out, I’m Dr. Miwa. You’re more than welcome to call me by my first name, Aurelie, if it makes you feel more comfortable. What brings you in today?”
“I’ve never heard that name before” He mumbled while looking at his shoes.
“I’m partially French, so my mother wanted me to have a French name since I have my father’s Japanese last name. Some people just call me Ari since Aurelie doesn’t really roll off the tongue.”
“Ah, I thought you had a funny accent.” He bobbed his head and gave a sly smirk. He knew that it didn’t matter what he said during the appointment, she didn’t know anything about him. He could spew lies the entire time and she would eat it up. He didn’t think of himself as higher than her, but he certainly found her to be an inconvenience. Kyo got a devilish sparkle in his eye as he decided that he would test his luck with this psychologist.
Now that his gaze was on Aurelie, he took a second to observe the woman that he would be trapped with during the coming weeks. She looked nice enough, her facial features were soft and feminine. When she spoke, her short blonde hair bounced up and down and her facial expressions were extremely animated. She seemed rather easy to read, Kyo wondered if he could use this to his advantage. Her eyes were bright and full of life, she seemed to genuinely enjoy whatever she was talking about.
Aurelie closed her eyes briefly and exhaled. She bit her tongue so she wouldn’t jeopardize the already frustrating relationship with Kyo. “Well, have you ever been to therapy before?”
He shook his head and his mop of bleached-blonde hair bounced into his face. He moved his eyes back to the ground; he didn’t want Aurelie to be able to read him too well.
“Well, let me start off by saying that anything said in here is confidential, and nothing leaves this office – unless, of course you express some desire to harm yourself or others.”
He moved his gaze from the floor to Aurelie’s eyes again. Something about her perplexed him – he wanted to study her more. The sudden shift in intensity sent a shock down Aurelie’s spine. Desperate to break from the chilling eye contact, she studied his face and posture.
He had a very masculine jawline and high cheekbones with a flat nose. His hair was bleached blonde, short, and worn in a messy style. It looked like he may have not combed it today, but it also looked like it could have been styled that way on purpose. He was covered in tattoos, sporting them on every area of visible skin on his torso and arms. Aurelie momentarily contemplated the complex enigma that was Kyo’s personality and life.
Aurelie took a deep breath and tried once more to prod Kyo, “Has anything happened recently that may have prompted you to come in?”
“I’m being forced to come here.”
His sentence was cryptic and incredibly vague.
As Aurelie opened her mouth to speak, Kyo interjected, “I don’t want to talk about it.” His words were full of venom.
Aurelie raised her palms in a gesture of apology, “That’s alright. We will take things at whatever speed you feel comfortable with.”
His facial expression remained unwavered as the room fell silent. The only noise being made were the faint creaks from the foundation of the old office building.
Desperate for conversation, Aurelie racked her brain for topics, “Where are you from?” Her quiet voice wavered with the question.
“Chiba.” He spat out. He looked up to the ceiling and inspected the Styrofoam white panels.
“Oh, that’s not far from where l used to live. I was over in Yotsukaido. Did you end up going to school there too?” Aurelie leaned in, curious for his response.
“I went to senior high school there, and attended university for a year, but dropped out.”
Aurelie thought it was odd that he didn’t specify exactly what school, since there were many in the area, but she didn’t want to push her luck any more.
She examined her watch and smiled, “Well, it appears our time is almost up.”
“Great.” He sarcastically remarked and scoffed.
Aurelie scrunched her lips to the side as she thought, “I know you really don’t want to be here.” She empathetically gave him a small smile.
Her blunt statement surprised Kyo, and she now had his attention.
“I’m sorry you’re being forced to come here, but sometimes things are meant to happen.” She took a deep breath in, “When I was younger and would get upset about something seemingly small, my mother would always tell me about Moirai, or the Greek concept of fate. It’s the idea that deities watch over the mother-thread of every mortal to be sure that their life goes as planned by the Gods. So, although you may not want to be here, you may need to be here.”
Kyo was at a loss for words and gave her the same blank stare. He didn’t believe in fate, let alone some Greek white-robed schmucks watching over his entire life.
Aurelie tried her best to smile, “When will I be seeing you next, Kyo?” She wasn’t sure if her speech about fate had worked or not, but it was worth a shot. It usually worked on hard to crack patients.
She stood up and made her way to the door. Kyo followed suit and lingered, waiting for his chance to escape this prison.
Realizing that she was waiting for a response, he stumbled over his final words, “I’m required to come once a week, so whenever that happens.”
Aurelie preemptively opened the door, expecting a clear answer from him. Seeing his opportunity for freedom, Kyo rapidly left the office and disappeared into the waiting room. All that was left of him was the distant sound of the bells jingling on the front door.
It all happened so suddenly that Aurelie stood frozen for a few seconds, trying to compartmentalize the past twenty minutes. She grimaced and grabbed Kyo’s files from the table. She clutched them firmly in her hands and inspected them with the utmost care, hoping to find some clarity.
Her eyes quickly skimmed the contents of the paper line by line but found no answers. Aurelie groaned and sunk back into her desk chair, knowing that the only way to attempt figuring out Kyo was by being patient and waiting until next week.
Kyo was the only thing on her mind during the train ride home.