On A String Of My Regrets

[elaezerbelle]

Tagged: Closed to Masinori Moriyama
[W for language]

Blue was everywhere lately it seemed. In America (but she shuddered to think about it) they were wearing it on the red carpet, in London it hung in the store fronts as well. Odille found herself infected by the color, and didn’t know how to account for it. Her blue skirt swished over her slender creamy legs as she walked along the road, watching it with a curious smirk of bewilderment, wondering about it. She was being fashionable. It was unthinkable, the girl who would wear ball gowns to the grocery store if it were socially acceptable (she settled for dresses). But blue wasn’t just an urge coursing through her veins, the more she thought about it, the more she saw it. It was everywhere; the sky was bright with it, the ocean roared in the distance. The bottle in the rubbish bin, the box with the post, the collar on the dog. “I should get a dog.” She thought suddenly.

I touch the clasp of your locket
With its picture held
Some secret you wouldn’t tell
But let it choke your neck

Her purse was slung in one hand, and the other played with the necklace at her throat. It was strung on a delicate chain of silver, carved out of ivory, a dark red-purple pansy. She had lots of things with pansies on them. When she saw someone with the common little garden flower she just had to have it. Her thoughts turned to her mother before something caught her eye: “BLUE”. She stopped in her tracks and remembered why she was thinking about the color to begin with, the market. It was funny how thoughts were strung together, leading into a million others.

The door whipped open as someone rushed out, not bothering to hold it open for her. She slipped inside and went to grab a basket. Just before she could reach her hand out, an older woman stopped to lean on them, searching her pocket-book, perhaps for her shopping list. Odille stood frustrated for a moment, waiting for her to move, “Pardon moi.” The lady looked up very quickly and lifted her bag away. Odille thought she’d heard a laugh, but wasn’t sure of the direction in which it came. She glanced behind her as she took up a basket, but didn’t see anyone.

Odille paused for a moment just beyond the checkout area and thought about what she’d come for. Produce. She hated buying vegetables in places like this, but she wasn’t aware of any local vegetable markets yet, and maybe it was better for the poor local farmers considering she didn’t always pay. She glanced around and didn’t see anyone. It was dead empty in there and the employee’s must’ve been stocking things. She picked out some zucchini, yellow squash, a few onions and tomatoes, set them in her basket in one plastic bag and walked to the other end of the store, stopping to pick up random items only to set them back down. She was masking herself now, aware of every employee in the store, preventing them from seeing what was going down. To them she was just a browsing customer.

The somewhat heavy bag was taken up and concealed under her sweater. It wasn’t necessary that she do this, but she just felt better doing it anyway. As her fingers moved across the thin plastic she became aware of a presence, a sort of burning in the back of her neck that started when she thought she heard someone laughing. Her eyes, which were downcast, shot up to see blue, in a vibrant flash. She was caught off guard and nearly lost her concentration, then again there was nothing there.

She had been about ready to leave, but felt a slight tensing in her throat and chest. The bag was being held up by her free arm under her sweater still, the basket had been discarded. She fidgeted with some boxes on a shelf, pulling something off to read the ingredients, and looking over her shoulder as she did. Nothing. She turned to set the box down, and her breath caught up within her in a gasp. She was never one for screaming, but she was startled nonetheless. A pair of black eyes looked back from the shadows of the other side of the shelf. She looked enquiringly at them, but they were still and calm. She set the box down, blocking them from seeing her and went to leave the store, no longer concerned but annoyed.

And maybe the sun keeps coming up
Because it has gotten used to you
And your constant need for proof

[masinorimoriyama]

The sewers, I mean streets, below his apartment were empty, but in the distance were the bustling ones of Marseille. Probably everyone was there, working and what not. Something Masi didn’t have to do today. In fact he had nothing to do today. He was currently stretched out on his couch with his guitar in his lap, plucking mindlessly. His hand left the strings mid-song and went to his face. He rubbed one of his eyes vigorously, like something had died in it, then abruptly stood up. There was much on his mind, the dreams of others, and lately his own strange ones. He looked down at himself, he was in his underwear. Can’t go out like this, he thought.

He walked a couple of feet to his small bathroom and turned the shower on, pacing a few times while he waited for it to heat up. It always took forever in the roach hotel he lived in. When the curtains started emitting steam, he slammed the bathroom door shut and got in. He closed his eyes against the scolding water and let it soak his face and long hair. He wondered at all the times in his life when he was supposed to feel ashamed of himself and he just didn’t. It wasn’t in his capacity. He just had different views about what a disgrace was.

The girl who’s dreams he’d been visiting knew that. She wasn’t ashamed of her feelings for the one she loved and she came right out and told him. Not him but the guy she loved. Poor thing, he was engaged to her sister, Masi assumed they were married by now. She probably felt like she’d disgraced herself now that it was over, but at least she had guts. Masi sighed against the water. His situation was very, very different. He was probably being stupid. It wasn’t the most socially acceptable thing, he definitely knew that firsthand. Regret burned in his chest.

Or maybe the water was getting too hot.

He finished his shower and turned the water off with a little more force than was required, towel dried his hair, and got dressed. He picked a band shirt and some leather pants, after all it was cold out, then put on his leopard print coat. His hair was dry by now, so he looked at himself in the mirror. Dark with long blonde streaks, hair in his face. He looked real inconspicuous, not. “Fuck it.” He said, walking out the door, shoving his wallet in a pocket as he went. He rode his motorcycle into Sanglignée, his arms stretched out on either side when steering wasn’t requiring them. It was exhilarating, and he didn’t care that people looked at him in a mixture of disapproval and fright, because it felt like he was flying.

San wasn’t as packed, he rode in and parked on a side street to walk around. He messed up his hair when he took his helmet off, so he wouldn’t have helmet head. He was looking for the blonde girl of course, it wasn’t that he was trying to get with her, she was just a complete mess and he wanted more than most things lately for them to be friends. He was sure she’d be in town today. Why? Well, because she hadn’t been here any other day so it was about time! He was sitting where she usually played her cello for a while, feeding the birds a box of stale cookies he had stashed in a pocket of his coat. It was really a silly and pointless way to spend time.

Finally, as if right on que, she walked past in her usual too dressy attire. He stood up immediately to tail her. She looked around with glassy eyes, obviously lost in thought. Masi stuck his hands in his pockets to keep them warm against the February chill. She stopped short at the market and was nearly run over by a fat balding man coming out of the store. He looked pissed off. Masi quirked a brow, then went back to a normal impassive expression and went in after her. She was stalled at the baskets, trying to find a way around a woman who’d stopped there without saying anything. Finally she asked her to move, with her usually politeness. He stifled a laugh, caught himself when it was too late, and rushed off to hide in an aisle.

He watched from a distance as she did her grocery shopping. It was fun to watch her, which was why he hadn’t just gone right up to her, even though it wasn’t always very eventful. When she got to the vegetable area he saw her stick the bag of what she was gathering under her clothes like she was going to steal them. Her eyes shot up and met his for a second, she looked startled, and he ducked for cover. She was dawdling now. He watched her in the next aisle through the boxes and almost wanted to smile, but of course he didn’t. Why wasn’t she getting on with it then?

Just then she pulled a box from the shelf and he watched her study it with absolutely no interest, then look over her shoulder for him. I’m not there sweetheart, he thought. Here I am. In setting the box down she discovered him. His face was shadowed by the tall shelves despite the neon lights in the store. He waited for her to say something, it was only polite, but she ran off. Blinding him first with the box as she set it down in his face.

He merely turned to keep following her, exiting the store with a jingle of a bell. She looked over her shoulder at him at the sound of the door. Now he really wanted to laugh. She looked thoroughly frustrated with him and he wondered why she didn’t recognize him.

[elaezerbelle]

She didn’t look back at the door as she made her escape, no one would have seen what she’d taken. No one except those prying eyes that she hadn’t noticed at first. She scolded herself for not being more careful, more skilled. It was silent for a moment, and then she heard a bell rattle sweetly a few yards behind her and knew. She looked behind her to see the man with the dark blue eyes, he stepped casually through the door with a blank expression. Completely unreadable, unscathed, as though he couldn’t even see her though he was looking right at her, as though he hadn’t just caught her stealing from The Blue Market. She wanted to hit herself in the face, but she was too busy trying to hold her loot and look for a way to lose him.

Her heels clanked on the street and they were picking up the pace, she could feel him behind her, but didn’t look at first, just kept walking. She could cast some sort of distracting illusion or just make him think she’d vanished from his periphery. There really were endless possibilities. She stole a glance behind her now, still there, still blank. Just as she turned her head, and it all happened in a split second, she tripped over a stupid rock. The bag in her arms flew into the air as she fell forwards, landing on her hands and scraping both them and her knees like a child at play. Her wounds were littered with bits of sand and dirt she saw as she started to use her arms to lift herself.

She got to her knees and sat down on her backside in a loose fetal position, examining the scratches and cuts very briefly before looking up at the creep. He just stood there, towering over her. “Help a girl up.” She cooed. He extended a hand, but wasn’t making a large amount of effort, she felt, until he pulled her up with a surprising amount of strength. Her hands stung. She faced him now and got a good look at him, he was precisely the same height as her. And there was something familiar about him. “I…I feel as if I know you.” She said in her sing-songy voice, with a slight inclination of her head. Then she remembered her vegetables and scurried away to pick them up. Most everything was still in the bag, but a couple of things had rolled away.

When she stood up he was still standing there. “I suppose you’ll want to be turning me in then. For these.” She lifted the bag a little. He shook his head no and looked at her expectantly. “Huh? Oh, you look familiar, like I’ve dreamt of you before or seen you someplace. But really, no hard feelings about the vegetables?” She asked sweetly. She was wishing she had been more observant and had eluded him. She was trying to be civil, but really the dirt in her bleeding appendages was foremost on her mind. “Say, you don’t mind if I take care of these battle wounds, do ya?” There was a drinking fountain just across the way that was calling her name.

It seemed her fall hadn’t gone unnoticed and passersby were looking at the pair cautiously, though no one went out of their way to help her up. She looked at her hands, her eyes rolled and her lips curled in a sort of disapproving scowl. She manned the fountain with one hand and used the free one to cup the water and transfer it to the affected areas. The weird brooding asian man just stood there, and she was beginning to wonder what he was playing at and why he just didn’t sod off.

Odille mentally sized him up and wondered if he’d be of any use to her. Her old habits kicking in. Even though she’d become a lot more “real” and friendly since coming to France, old habits did die hard. Whatever that meant. She decided she didn’t know enough about him to decide. “I’m Odille, Odille Lenore Belle.” She introduced herself, glancing up at him as she worked the water, being careful to accidentally splash him a bit just because…he had caused her to fall after all. She was amused at this, inside her own head. Her inner monologue self laughed, but she was quiet.

[masinorimoriyama]

She was definitely startled by him, it was kind of fun. He had that effect on people frequently. He either creeped them out or puzzled them. She walked quickly away from him and he followed just a few paces behind. She didn’t turn around, but he could tell she knew he was still there. Then she turned to look at him, and just as she did she fell. She had clearly been forming an escape plan when she lost her balance, sending the things she‘d stolen flying through the air and rolling off in all directions. She sat on her knees, which were scraped up, and flirtatiously he thought, she asked him to help her up.

She looked like a little girl still, was definitely younger than him. He pulled her up from the ground as she began to put on this silly coy act. He just ignored it, no he wasn‘t going to turn her in for a few vegetables, her thieving was entertaining and he guessed it was useful or she wouldn‘t do it. She was as tall as him now, maybe an inch taller. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a girl so tall. He saw that she was wearing the necklace she’d stolen from his sister, but was very careful not to let her know he was looking. He wanted to give himself away slowly, and this might startle her even more.

He looked at her expectantly as she‘d been muttering about some nostalgic feeling she had about him, finally they were getting somewhere. “No hard feelings,” he repeated. “Messy girl.” He shook his head at her as she splashed him accidentally. She introduced herself. “As you‘ve said, we know each other.” He said simply. And he thought maybe he saw some recognition when he called her a messy girl. That had probably been the only two words he’d ever said to her back in Japan. “Moriyama-kun?” He asked, trying to ring a bell, “You can call me Masi now though.” He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, offering her one as well. “You’re Tainted.” He said obviously. “I didn’t know before, that’s why I didn’t bother with you. I’m a dreamwalker and I don‘t really get along well with Untainted, I especially didn‘t back then, so you‘ll have to forgive my coldness.”

He took long drags of his cigarette and took a few steps tentatively away from the fountain, trying to get her to follow so they could walk and talk. He looked at the necklace again now and made sure that she saw him do it. He smiled a sly sort of smile, but it was very slight as he wasn‘t a very expressive person. “It suits you.“ He said, and laughed to let her know it was alright by him and there were no hard feelings there either. She was a thief through and through. Had this been a few years ago, he would‘ve turned her in for it, but now he left it alone, treated it as an amusing quirk, and only wanted her friendship. “I can give you a ride home if you want.” He offered.