Crossing Paths (1)
It was a clear day without a single cloud in the sky.
Just as we'd talked about the day before, we had decided to go out and have a meal together, Iris and me.
"What if someone sees us?"
"I-I already had the servants step back…. A-and I had the carriage ready around back…."
While she helped me get ready, Iris showed no real change. Back in the room, face-to-face with her again, she had returned to that shy, skittish manner of hers.
"D-don't move…. Stay still…."
My hands were still trembling, so I left the shaving to Iris. I took off my shirt and stood in front of the mirror with her as she brought over a basin of water.
Iris took hold of my chin and carefully set the razor against my skin. I watched her expression in the reflection. She looked a little tense, maybe because she was trying something she'd never done before. Or maybe she simply didn't want to cut me.
"D-does it hurt…?"
"Just scrape it off like that."
"O-okay…. Tell me if it hurts…?"
The sharp blade passed over the soap lather again and again—across the bridge of my nose, my jaw, then slowly down my neck. Her hands, turning my face this way and that, trembled a little, even if not quite as much as mine.
Watching Iris brace my neck and focus so intently, I thought: if she wanted to, she could take my life right now. Drive that blade deep into my throat. Maybe that was what I wanted most of all—for her to end this wretched life of mine, the one that had decided to cling to her like a parasite.
As if the wish had been granted, the white foam on my neck stained faintly red. But the cut the blade left was far too small to kill anyone.
"A-ah…! I-I'm sorry, that hurt, didn't it…."
"It's fine. Happens sometimes even when I do it myself."
I covered the nick on my neck—less than half a fingernail deep—as I spoke. Iris started to panic and look for medicine, so I caught her arm.
"It doesn't hurt. Look, it's not even bleeding."
"B-but still…"
"I'm hungry. Let's go already."
"O-okay…."
She only answered; Iris stayed rooted to the spot as if nailed there. I gave the arm I was holding a light shake.
"Noona?"
"L-let go…."
The look on Iris's face as she tried to pull her arm free was flushed red. There was no real strength in it. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, shy.
"…The person who was just fondling my face is embarrassed by this?"
"T-touching you as your noona is different…. A-Ain…. And you're not even dressed…."
"Yesterday we were pressing our foreheads together."
"Th-that was to check your fever…."
My hand slid down the arm I held, past her wrist, and closed around her fingers. I threaded mine through hers, palm to sweaty palm, and pulled her in while she was still hiding her face.
"You don't like it?"
"U-uhh…."
From the covered mouth of a face red all the way to her ears came a tiny sound. Why had I ever looked at that expression and written it off as simple shyness?
I let go of her hand and pushed aside the back of the one covering her mouth. The lip she was biting trembled, then lifted at the corner just a little.
"You like it."
"I-I don't know…."
If I leaned in a little closer and took her lips, what would Iris do? She might put up a show of resistance, something close to a tantrum. But before long she'd probably cling to me, looking happy about it. If I held her like that, if I pulled her completely into my grasp—if I laid a woman I didn't love under me and made her gasp, if I offered this half-body of mine in return for the love she had promised to give me—maybe Iris would be satisfied, and I would feel full from having satisfied her.
"…Let's go."
"H-huh? O-okay…."
I forced the brothel-rat thoughts out of my head, stepped away from the mirror, and put my clothes on. Iris was still touching the corner of her mouth with a finger, the smile not quite gone. Looking at that pure, happy face, I felt the self-loathing in me grow a little more.
Inside the carriage with Iris, we sat across from each other without speaking. She wore a white dress and had a small bag resting on her knees. I only registered the occasional glance she threw my way.
The clothes she had prepared for me felt a little tight. After lying in bed so long, even the daytime sun felt unfamiliar. The discomfort didn't ease even after we sat down at the restaurant and ordered.
It was the same place Iris and I had visited in a previous life. As I stared blankly at the river sliding past the window, Iris spoke up.
"A-Ain, what do you want to eat…?"
"Same as you."
"Th-then steak…. Is that okay…?"
I propped my chin on my hand and only nodded. I didn't really come back to myself until I watched Iris take the fork and knife and start cutting the meat that arrived on the plate herself.
"It's fine. I'll do it."
"I-it's okay…."
Iris glanced once at my empty sleeve, then smiled and said it. Right. I couldn't even cut it alone. I should have ordered something else.
Unlike our last visit, the restaurant wasn't quiet. Maybe it was an Academy holiday; men and women around my age stood out among the crowd. Two of them at a table had their eyes on us. Judging by the empty bottles lined up beside them, they had been drinking hard since early on.
Their voices carried without any attempt to hide them.
"Heh heh… Mommy… I don't have an arm… cut it for me…"
"Pfft… Keep it down…"
"I can't do this… I don't even have an eye, I can't see…"
"Kik… Crazy bastard…."
"The crazy one's the bastard son… with his own sister…"
"They can hear you, you idiot… Pfft…"
On the plate Iris pushed toward me, the meat had been cut into even pieces. She looked as if she hadn't heard a word of the mockery aimed at us—at me, specifically. I picked up the knife beside the plate and stood.
"A-Ain?"
"Sorry in advance."
I hid the knife behind my back and closed the distance on them fast.
"Hey… Hey, he's coming?"
"Ignore him. What's a cripple gonna do? Getting scared of a disabled—"
Before the man on the right could finish, I drove the knife I was holding down into his hand where it rested on the table. The cloth beneath it began to darken with black-red blood.
"Hyaaaaaaagh!"
"Sounded like an interesting conversation. Mind if I join in?"
"What the—"
I kicked the table. The man whose hand was still pinned went with it, bottles and plates scattering across the floor. I snatched a napkin still floating in the air.
"I said let me in. Don't play coy."
"A-are you insane? In front of everyone—"
I jammed two fingers into the open mouth of the man still on his feet. With the napkin wrapped around them, I caught his slick tongue and held it.
"Urgh…"
"Hey. After talking this much, I think I can call you a friend now."
The man whose tongue I held staggered after me every time I stepped back. I dragged him in a slow circle through the middle of the restaurant and kept talking.
"It hurts that my friend doesn't know me very well. Maybe if I pull this out, we'll understand each other a little deeper."
I looked down at the man on his knees, tongue still clamped in my fingers. Tears that weren't worth my pity ran down his face. Then I felt a hand settle on my shoulder and turned.
It was Iris, wearing the sharp look she reserved for other people. That gaze wasn't aimed at me, though—it was fixed on the man kneeling in front of me.
I pulled my hand out of his mouth and wiped the spit on the tablecloth. Iris stepped past me and stopped in front of the man as he tried to catch his breath.
"Raise your head and look here."
"Even if I apologize, it's already too late… This is definitely going to—"
The slap cracked across his cheek before he even registered that Iris had drawn her hand back. Another slap took the other side as she crouched to his level and spoke quietly.
"Some nobody of unknown breeding. Apologize…? You should be grateful your neck's still attached. Take your boyfriend off the floor and get out of here right now. Before you die by my hand instead of my brother's."
The pressure in Iris's voice alone was enough. The man said nothing more. He hauled his companion up and disappeared out of the restaurant.
I stared hard at the floor littered with dishes and couldn't bring myself to look at Iris. A little later she came back from apologizing to the staff and leaving a few gold coins in compensation, and took my arm.
"A-are you hurt…? Let me see your hand…."
"I'm fine. Sorry. They got on my nerves."
"N-no…. Why are you the one apologizing…. H-how do you feel…?"
"Not bad. But I'm not in the mood to eat."
Iris reached for my hand, still filthy.
"Th-then let's go to a café at least…. It'd be a shame to leave it like this…."
"…All right."
I couldn't bring myself to suggest we just go home—not to Iris, who didn't even scold me for giving her the worst date imaginable. We headed for the terrace of a nearby café. Iris ordered cookies and chamomile; I ordered coffee. I thought about drinking something stronger, then dropped the idea almost at once because of the company.
While I sat there wordlessly nursing the hot coffee, a cookie was pushed toward my mouth. She must have been worried that I hadn't touched any food. Iris smiled a little as she watched me take the bite.
It felt like chewing garbage. That smile went straight through my lungs. Using the goodwill of the person I'd been closest to my whole life—not some stranger—like this.
"You're not even going to ask why I did it."
"U-um…."
"When we were kids, if I caused trouble you'd ask why and chew me out."
Iris took a cigar from the bag she was carrying. She cut it, set it between my lips, lit it for me, and spoke.
"I-it doesn't matter…. Even if there's no reason…. I-I promised I'd take your side…."
"……."
I should have said thank you, but my mouth wouldn't open. Cigar between my teeth, I stared at the black liquid in the cup and the reflection of myself in it. Had Ain always looked this ugly?
I killed time waving a hand through the smoke blurring my vision, trying not to notice Iris sitting beside me with her hand resting on my thigh. I watched the crowd passing in front of the café, wondering if anyone among them could be as disgusting as me.
…I should have just kept staring at the ground.
Among the people thronging past, I caught a face as clear as the weather itself. A nun with a bag of ration bread hugged to her chest, nibbling on one of the loaves. I stared for a long time, half-entranced, before I realized Mace was walking straight toward me without the slightest hesitation.