Chapter 13
The drunken hubbub of the streets on Sunday evening was a welcome change to the pure silence of the hospital. Yagami shrunk even further into her coat as the wind grew colder. She quickly turned into the familiar small alley, the wind already letting up as she approached the lit sign. She wasted no time entering the warm bar, Maria already at the entrance with a coat hanger:
“Welcome, Ms.Yagami. Allow me to take your coat.”
Yagami didn’t respond, merely shrugging it off and tossing it towards her as she sat down on the nearest stool, dropping her head on her arms. The bandages around her head scratched as her hair ran over it, though she had gotten used to it over the last few days. She barely registered it as Maria walked up behind the counter, pulling out a chilled cocktail glass and some ice.
“Anything I should mix that would interest you?”
Yagami peeked up from her position, giving a sour smile as the perfect option revealed itself.
“Let’s see. How about something which represents my endless frustration over somebody who deliberately ruins their life just to justify some half-assed reason of wanting to ‘keep others out of it’?”
If Maria knew what she was talking about she didn’t show it, merely pulling out a strainer and turning towards the shelves.
“Let us see.” she began in a voice dripping with eagerness, as if playing a favorite game. She ran her finger across the bottles before pulling out five, placing them beside the cocktail glass.
“For starters, ‘Confusion’. For a time in which the decisions of others threaten to consume us with doubts.”
She grabbed a bottle of dark purple liquid, pouring a shot of it into the strainer.
“Then, ‘Betrayal’. For having been kept ignorant of events that directly pertain to the lives of oneself and others.”
A quick dip of a dark green bottle was added.
“Of course, ‘Anger’. For having no ability to change the past to avoid a certain future.”
The small bottle with fiery red liquid was emptied.
“Let us not forget ‘Hate’. For the fate that befalls those with good hearts and those with wickedness inside them.”
She twisted off the cork of the sickly yellow bottle and poured a few drops over the mixture. Closing the strainer and adding ice, she began to shake the mixture vigorously. As she poured out the chilled liquid rich in ephemeral colors, as if space had rented out the area, she then produced a vial from her breast pocket. The vial itself was unremarkable, a pure white that betrayed nothing of its contents.
“And finally, ‘Compassion’. For the pure heart which craves to support that which hangs on through false pretense.”
She opened the vial and poured out a light pink, thick fluid that encapsulated the turbulent rest, forming a veritable cocoon around it. Maria gave a satisfied sound from herself as she gently pushed the glass towards Yagami, who had watched the process with quiet interest. Grasping hold of the elegant crystal trunk, she raised it to her lips and inhaled the aroma. Just like the contents, a confusing mixture of smells assaulted her nose, although none of it was displeasing. Her lips parted as she took the first sip.
The moment the fine liquid touched her tongue, she was overwhelmed with waves of emotion. A quick burn that irritated her gums, followed by a bitter aftertaste accompanied by small blows of sourness. Yet as she battled through the remaining salty drink, a new taste pushed through at the end. That was one of undulating, pure sweetness, reaching every nook and cranny of her mouth and filling it with gentle warmth and energy. She felt herself smiling as she drained the glass and placed it down on the counter, Maria’s patient smile awaiting her.
“Wonderful.” Yagami finally squeezed out, feeling refreshed. Maria gave a curt bow.
“I am pleased you find it to your liking. Now then, what might be troubling you to request a ‘journey’ of emotions?”
“Journey, is it? That certainly fits well with how I feel right now.”
Yagami sighed and spread herself on the counter, her eyes half-closed as she reviewed everything that had happened over the last week. Finding no solace in it, she began to speak freely:
“Maria, tell me. Why do some people insist on pursuing horrible hardships for the sake of others they are barely acquainted with? What flaw does one need to ignore their own happiness?”
An intrigued tone escaped Maria, Yagami unwilling to look her in the eye.
“You are truly one of my favorite customers, Ms. Yagami. So young and yet capable of such interesting questions.”
“Please don’t ignore them in the process. I’ve had enough of that this week.”
“I can tell. In that case, why don’t we firstly inquire why you perceive it as a problem? Many others would simply feel gratitude for someone showing such sincerity and generosity.”
“That’s the point. Why should I feel happy that somebody who had no part in a crime gets wrongly convicted? Especially when the idiot plants evidence in his own home just to shift attention away from others. It sickens me.”
“But doesn’t the person also perhaps wish for the result?”
Yagami raised her head in bewilderment.
“What do you mean?”
Maria had that infuriating glint in her eyes again, replacing the cocktail glass with a simple one and producing a jug of apple juice.
“Could it not be that for some people, their own existence is a burden that they wish to alleviate by carrying out favors for others? It is not unusual to provide happiness to others they feel more rightly deserve it.”
She poured the glass full, the liquid dull and dark. Yagami stared deeply into it, reminded of how Anders had tried to impress her on her first meeting. Back then, he had already come across as a torn individual, his bright and helpful side accompanied by something darker, more elusive. The more she had encountered his light, the more his shadows crept up to accompany it. And yet, whenever she had tried to tread into this darkness, he shrunk back like a stung animal and blocked everything.
“It’s almost like he’s cursed himself.” she said absentmindedly.
“Does guaranteeing the safety of others quantify as ‘cursing’ oneself?”
“Maria don’t play with me. I happen to understand things quite well after a while. You for one aren’t just a mere bartender, are you?”
She raised a finger to point at her, though Yagami meant it without ill intent. Maria seemed to sense it, smiling in response:
“I am nothing more than a resourceful bartender. I encountered many sorts of people in my time here, many kind while others unpleasant. You, Ms. Yagami, hold the rare honor of both in my book.”
Yagami remembered how she had acted on her first night here, blushing briefly.
“Sorry.”
“Think nothing of it. I have said as well that you’re one of my favorite customers right now. You have managed something which I have failed at for a number of years now.”
“How exactly?” Yagami distinctly doubted herself capable of anything beyond that of a seemingly immortal deity. Maria winked as she rummaged in a nearby drawer, producing a small stack of papers that she dropped before her.
“For only you have been able to inspire Anders.”
Yagami pulled up the first page, revealing a slew of characters and animals, all mere sketches with pen. Yet, through Yagami’s trained eyes, she saw how each character had been done with passion behind it, details added that were likely miniscule for the audience but vital to the creator. She understood his lines, his curves, even his mistakes. The level of quality improved with each succeeding page, until they were nearly on the level of Aoba. Maria chuckled as Yagami gazed at the pages in wonder:
“Anders once told me that long before, he once held the passion to tell a story about a world he imagined. While he wanted to convey the world that he imagined through words, what was crucial for him was the characters he designed for it. Yet, he never once was able to establish how they should look, only staring blankly on the page every time he tried it here. Yet after you left the Friday before last, Anders returned here with vigor.”
“He did? After you ‘closed shop’?”
Maria now gave a genuine laugh, the sound akin to pearls rolling down a freshwater stream.
“We never refuse a customer, Ms. Yagami. Anders was very excited over something as he returned here, spending hours hunched over these drawings. When I inquired what he was attempting, a very curious thing came out of him.”
She pulled out a slip of paper from her breast pocket, Yagami reading it as Anders’ handwriting along with another, more flowery style:
- I want to try making something. I don’t know what. But I’m sure that whatever I make it will be my creation, something I made and can be proud of.
- Curious. What brought this about?
- It’s a secret. But I know that one day, I want to show it to the person I admire the most.
- I see. So, what do you want to show this person?
- She told me that I should be proud of what I make myself. That the things I make have value to them. So, I want to show her that I can believe in that. Once more, I want to live my life doing the things I want to do.
Nothing else was said on the page, it being unnecessary as Yagami couldn’t see anything through her tears. They fell in large drops, wetting the paper with dark circles. She didn’t know why they appeared, yet she sensed her heart tearing up. Maria offered her a handkerchief, Yagami accepting it gratefully as the former spoke:
“It has been many decades since we first invited customers here, yet the smile on Anders’ face that evening was the brightest among all. He never dared proceed beyond his own fears and troubles, coming here almost daily at times to escape his past. However, for a brief moment he showed signs of wanting to move on beyond the reaches of this bar. Of course, that has been put on hold.”
Yagami stared down at the counter with a dejected look, her chest feeling strangely empty. Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she asked:
“Please, Maria. I can’t do anything to help him. He dug himself too deep in all this for our sakes. I’m powerless. But you, can’t you do something?”
“Are you asking me to break my own law of never intervening with the outside world? Could you take responsibility for it?”
“Responsibility?”
“In the event that Anders ‘is’ released, that will not clear the suspicion from him. He will still be regarded as a liability, a person able and perhaps willing to have performed an attack on his own company. Nobody will acknowledge him; nobody will hire him. He will forever be forced to wander with his stigma, isolated through the pressure that is so famous in your society. Is that preferable to a warm room in prison?”
Yagami was unable to formulate a response, Maria awaiting it with curiosity in her prismarine gaze. Swallowing hard, she found no option to satisfy Maria with. Yet as she glanced down at Anders’ sheets and his writing, she gritted her teeth and answered:
“I will take care of it. Whatever others might think of him from this mess, whatever people might say about it. I won’t let him be alone. He deserves so much more than this. So please…”
Yagami stood up from the stool, only to drop on the floor and perform the politest bow she could possibly make:
“...help me rescue Anders.”
She remained in this position, unwilling to move until she felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Maria tugged gently on her, helping her stand upright before chuckling.
“It has been a long time since I ever felt moved. Hundreds have asked me to help them, begging with their money and lives for the smallest gesture. And I have refused all of them.”
Maria plucked the lily from her breast pocket, placing it down on the counter and giving Yagami the chance to recognize it as being natural.
“But this is the first time somebody has wanted me to help another in need. Not because they themselves are at risk but out of their own kindness. You have become my number one favorite, Ms. Yagami. You and Anders form a good pair.”
A light blush decorated Yagami’s face, before Maria laughed and patted her head.
“Come now, I was merely joking. Now then, you need to rest. Tomorrow’s trial will be a dramatic one, I assure you. That head wound should no longer pose an issue.”
Surprised, Yagami reached up to feel her wound had completely healed as if nothing had been there in the first place, the bandages falling off clean and white. As she stared at the fabric, Maria snapped her fingers again, suddenly producing her coat from whatever part of her vision that was obscured.
“Here you go, Ms. Yagami. Do not worry about tomorrow, leave the rest to me. If I may suggest something?”
“What is it?” Yagami asked as she exited the bar, Maria’s hand on the light switch.
“Try to keep a seat free for the show.”
