Never be the Same

[06.04.00] » by Nik

I see

She is going to stare at the pavement and not remember a thing because it might not be good for her to look across the street.

The light is right beside her, though--an ordinary thing--traditional yellow-painted metal; two glass discs; one red, one green. The light is behind the green glass, but she doesn't walk across. It just doesn't seem right. It doesn't feel right. She has to stay where she stands. She can't move or she might be inclined to remember--she might be forced to say that name.

She was listening to something, maybe some little voice in her head telling her she was doing the right thing. It was convincing her that she was doing this for a bigger, better reason than the one that tried to make her lift her eyes.

It's obvious that there's something she's not saying; something she's not doing--but it's more obvious that it's killing her inside.

She sees

I can't look ahead because I already caught the glimpse--the red motorsuit. The skinny Japanese teen with the dark, silky hair.

The light is green--I can walk. I can't, though. If he sees me again--what if I trigger that old time; those other memories? I can't destroy the barrier between our worlds again. It would be stupid. It might even reverse all of those good things about it.

I hear the static click of green to red. The traffic is finally allowed to cross. His boot lifts from the asphalt and settles on the pedal--he's leaving. I want to hear the wind lift the strands of hair on his neck; touch it like I wish I could. I suppose I think I'm going to stand here and watch him disappear, but I know when I look up he'll already be gone.

She feels

I'm like a void. I'm always alone. I hope to god Tatsuya isn't the same as me. I hope to god he doesn't know things he shouldn't know, and wonder what they mean. If there's a state of confusion, let me live in it alone. I owe him that much for saving my life.

I'm feeling sorry for myself again. My hair is being dragged sideways by the passing cars. They don't see me here, and I don't see them there. All I know is that I can't cross--I can never cross. I can never have what I want. Not me--not this Maya Amano.

I know

She's not waiting to cross this time--the light changes back to green and gives her the go. She takes a deep breath before setting a single foot onto the asphalt. That something inside of her is reminding her that she's crossing over the spot where he just was. He was just there, on the motorbike, in the red outfit and white helmet, his hair glistening at his neck.

She takes a deep breath and walks forward, beginning her long journey across the road and away from another chance at meeting him--

and this time she feels defeated.