Girls of the Cafe - (Vocaloid Fanfiction)

“Have a good day!” Teto yelled after Kiku as she reached her car. Kiku gave a small wave as she threw her bag into the back seat, hearing the slight clang of metal with a tinge of guilt. She really shouldn’t have been carrying her cleavers everywhere.
“Cya Teto!” she returned, trying to bolster her confidence. Kiku quickly focused her effort on starting up her car. After all, she had places to be and things to do. Her job didn’t stop after she left the cafe. She’d argue it started.
Kiku shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought. She kept telling herself she needed to stop thinking like that. Her psychiatrist kept telling her too. No one at the cafe said anything, other than Momo occasionally asking how Kiku was holding up.
Taking a deep breath, Kiku realized how tight of a grip she had on the wheel, as if she had been trying to choke it. Kiku shakily eased her grip as she pulled up to the house of the Martells. It was a slightly upper-middle class residence, as evidenced by the taller structure than the average suburban townhouse. The traditional white paint coloration showed an allegiance more towards the English heritage of the family. The lawn was neatly kempt, likely by the gardener they had hired. Kiku had seen them a couple of times, but never really conversed with them. They were, after all, only paid to do their job.
Reaching into her bag, Kiku focused on taking deep breaths until her light-headedness faded. Thumbing open the pill container she had snagged, she downed the prescribed amount, swallowing them quickly. She sat for a minute before hopping out, considering grabbing her bag, but upon remembering her cleavers, she decided against it.
She gave a quick once-over of her clothes as she stood at the door. Her spotlight white clothes almost matched the shade of the house, and it was only her shocking red hair and trim that made her stand out. The family had been a bit...surprised when they saw her the first time, but had quickly accepted the unusual sight of her flaming red decor.
Nervously, Kiku pressed the doorbell, trying to do so lightly so as not to be disturbing. She mentally cursed electricity’s indifference as the bell rang as loud as it always had. A family blond woman answered the door, a smile settling onto her face.
“Good to see you again Kiku. You do realize that you’re able to come in at any time. You don’t have to ring the bell every time, ever since we gave you the key” “Sweet” Ann pointed out. Kiku nodded, biting her tongue quickly.
“I know, but I just feel it’s more polite. I’d hate to interrupt you, since you’re so kind to me after all” Kiku explained, following Mrs. Martell. Mentally, a dark chuckle tormented her. If you wanted in, you wouldn’t even have to use the key, or the door for that matter. Kiku tried pushing the thought away and followed Mrs. Martell into the living room.
Kiku never got tired of the aesthetic of this room. The hand-made, ovaloid rug on the wooden floor fit so nicely with the mid height couches. The potted plants in the corners, and the wide TV angled at a 45° to the wall just made it feel right.
Sitting on the couch was Mrs. Martell’s husband, “Big” Al Martell. The man was eagerly watching a game of soccer on the TV, and Kiku had heard his bellowing “FASTER FASTER FASTER!” the second she had entered the door, but due to being desensitized to it, she had a tendency to not notice until the last moment.
Kiku’s eyes finally settled on the reason for her visit. The reason for your existence, the voice argued. Sighing in admiration, she thought it better than to argue. Sitting on the rug, cross-legged, in his traditional sailor’s outfit, was Oliver. She could feel his brilliant and intensely focused gaze on the book laid out before him. As if sensing her presence, he drifted his face up and turned. His one uncovered eye settled on her and Kiku could feel her heart stop, and her knees turn to jelly as his beautiful, golden eye brightened at the sight of her, and a small smile cross the young boy’s soft lips. The only thing keeping Kiku standing was the need not to worry the parents.
“Al, honey, Kiku’s here” Ann spoke, breaking through Kiku’s muddled daze. Al turned, realizing the situation.
“Ms. Kiku! Nice to see you. Thanks for coming on such short notice” he exclaimed, seizing her hand, shaking it vigorously. Kiku just smiled stupidly, her arms having melted by this point. “I’m so sorry to have to ask you to watch him so long, but so much came up unexpectedly. It really means a lot to us.”
“Really, it’s my pleasure” Kiku assured, finding her voice again. She felt the urge to smack herself just to focus, but that would just look strange to the family. She’d done this before. She could do it again. She just had to hold herself together until they weren’t looking. Then she could collapse.
“It’s really helpful of you dear” Ann complimented, gently touching Kiku’s shoulder from behind. Kiku’s heart skipped a beat, and she could feel a mild tense through her body as she came close to tightening her grip and throwing Al in defense. What am I thinking?, Kiku thought to herself.
Ann looked at Kiku with concern, noting the tense.“Everything alright?”
Kiku nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Just a little stressed from work today. With Easter just around the bend, so many people have been coming in with their Spring Break” Kiku half-lied, half-explained. Ann seemed satisfied with the answer and smiled reassuringly to Kiku.
“Make sure to rest yourself a bit then” she commanded, then turned to Oliver. “And you better behave yourself for your sitter” she teased. Everyone knew that Oliver was the most well-behaved boy, no questions asked. He had some mischievous streaks, but he always made up for them.
“Will do Mom” the boy assured, smiling to his mother. When Oliver smiled, most people brightened. He had a certain quality to him, a boyish innocence, that made everyone love him. When Kiku saw his smile, she lost her bearings and got lost in it.
“...so we’ll need you to drop him off tomorrow because we won’t be home yet.” Evidently, Mrs. Martell had kept speaking, and Kiku had missed most of it. She snapped to attention abruptly.
“Huh? Sorry, I was spacing out. Could you repeat that?” Kiku muttered, looking at the rug apologetically. Mrs. Martell smiled.
“It’s fine Kiku. After a whole day of hearing orders, you must get worn down. Take a seat on the couch” she politely commanded. Kiku obliged her as she repeated her statement. “We just need you to make sure Oliver brushes his teeth and gets off to bed at a reasonable time and then to drive him to school tomorrow morning by eight o’clock, okay?”
Kiku nodded and gave a faux salute. “Yes m’am! I assure you this boy will be well rested and into school by time” she promised as Al gently set an arm around his wife’s waist.
“Unfortunately, we must be headed out. Business meetings don’t wait for pleasantries” he apologized with a bright smile before waving his good bye, taking his wife with him. Kiku leaned around the corner and waved with a bright smile.
As soon as the door closed, Kiku collapsed back onto the couch. Finally, she could catch herself. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh. Upon cracking them open again, she tilted her head to the side, smiling over at Oliver, who was smiling back, his legs now out in front of him as he leaned back.
“Hello Oliver” she greeted, giving a small wave to him. Oliver gave a small laughed and waved back.
“Hello Kiku” he returned, standing up. He moved over to the couch, taking a seat by her head. Kiku tilted her head back to look at him with a soft smile. “Everything alright today?” he asked.
Kiku felt her smile broaden. He was such a polite boy, she reflected as she sat up, leaning against the couch. “I’m fine. How have you been?” she asked, playing the question off, secretly glad he was still young enough to fall for that trick. Oliver looked up pensively, causing some of his hair to fall back from under his sailor hat. Kiku bit her cheek as she resisted the urge to brush it out of his face so she could see it better.
The voice was just beginning to come back when Oliver spoke. “I’ve been pretty good I guess. School’s been kinda boring, but it’s been the weekend, so I’ve been playing a couple of games” he said with a shrug, not noticing Kiku’s gaze. By the time, he turned towards her, she had snapped out of her stupor. “So what do you want to do?” he inquired.
Kiku’s smile grew a bit more. Unlike most sitters, she tended to interact a lot with Oliver, rather than simply watch and facilitate. She took an active interest, even if she had her own reasons for doing so. “Don’t you have plans to play games with a friend or anything? I’d hate to interrupt those” she explained, having to give the usual response, despite wanting nothing more than hours with Oliver to herself.
Oliver shrugged, still smiling. Even when he gave an indifferent opinion, he seemed to smile. “I have a few hours until then, and I’m sure they’d love another player in our game, especially if you can beat them. Then I’d have to force my folks to bring you over because they’d be demanding rematches.”
Kiku giggled at the thought. “Okay then. Sounds like a deal” she agreed, checking the time on the clock in the hallway. “Have you had lunch?” she asked, staring deeply at the hour hand.
“Just before you arrived. Have you eaten?” he countered. Kiku paled a little. Ever since she’d let slip that she’d once skipped a meal during work, Oliver had hounded her about her meal times. This time, she could honestly say she had forgotten in the rush to get over here.
“Eh...I…” she floundered for an excuse. Normally, Kiku could make something up on the fly, but when Oliver fixed her gaze on him, her normally quicksilver tongue turned to lead. Oliver’s perpetual smile turned to a disapproving half-frown.
“Come on, let’s get you some food” the boy commanded, grabbing her wrist and pulling her behind him to the kitchen. Despite being 4 years her junior, he was having an easy time of it. It helped that his touch turned Kiku’s resistance to negative values. “I swear, sometimes I have to look after you more than you look after me” he teased, throwing a smile over his shoulder.
In that one moment, Kiku could feel true bliss. Oliver’s affectionate gaze, showing through his one eye, and even his bandaged one seemed to project the gaze.

Of course that feeling had been replaced with a deep guilt once he had turned away, leaving her out of his sight. As Oliver went about retrieving various materials to cook something, Kiku could feel the all too familiar feel of self-disgust roil up in her. She spoke timidly and with a lot of waver in her voice.
“Do you need help with anything?” she offered, eager to distract herself. Oliver looked over from his shuffling through an overhead cabinet. He shook his head with a smile.
“No thanks Kiku. Though now that I think about it, cooking something up will take a bit, so you might want to go sit back down” he proposed. Kiku nodded slowly.
“I’ll be in the living room if you need me” she said, her mouth feeling dry. She rounded the corner, stopped by the couch, and fell face first onto it, feeling the familiar springing of the cushions. Kiku lay face-down, grasping the fabric tightly as she bit down on the couch.
She felt nothing but disgust for herself. Her psychiatrist told her that she shouldn’t do that, but she did. How could she not? She was...she was…
A pedophile?, the voice offered. Kiku rolled over to one side, groaning quietly as she tried to ignore it. Disgusting is more the wording I’d choose, she thought. Besides, she wasn’t a pedophile. Oliver was 12, a year beyond the requirement…
...which she had of course looked up. Thought by the same definition, if the child was between 10-13, and the offender was 4 years older, it still counted. Kiku felt her depression sink in further as she realized that the more she thought about it, the more disgusting she was. Not only was she a pedophile, she had tried to justify herself.
Kiku peered up from the depths of the couch cushion and fixed her bone-tired gaze on the TV. She might be able to distract herself that way. Weakly, she reached for the remote, barely snagging one of the soft buttons with her nail. She began flipping through channels, her thoughts soon being thrown to the sea of commercials and bad daytime TV. Finally, she settled her interest on a show she’d been following for a while that was of moderate quality.
A modicum of energy had returned by the time Oliver poked his head around the corner, his focus spotting the TV first, before almost seemingly tracing a line to her eyes. He smiled as he waved to get her attention. Her eyes rolled slowly towards him, a small smile working its way onto her face. “I made some food.”
Kiku muttered a heartfelt thanks as she pushed herself up, heading into the kitchen. She smiled as she beheld the scene before her. The kitchen was immaculately clean; a great improvement over how Oliver’s cooking had started. She distinctly recalled worrying about never getting invited over again because of how the first time had gone. Since then, she had been teaching him all the recipes she knew.
Oliver lifted the lid of a pot on the stove, revealing a delicious looking stew in a burst of steam. Kiku could almost feel a tear in her eye as she beheld it. It was one of the first recipes that she’d taught him, and it was one that she had been taught by her mother when she was young. The thought alone nearly made her fall to her knees and cry. But she couldn’t upset Oliver. She couldn’t upset…
Kiku cut that thought off immediately. Instead, she leaned over the pot and inhaled deeply. “It smells wonderful Oliver” she complimented, heading over to the utensil drawer to find a ladle, only for it to flip into her vision. Following it down, she saw that Oliver had it handy already.
“I’ve been trying to perfect the recipe you taught me for a while” he explained. “I’ve kinda been waiting till you could come over so you could taste it.” Oliver’s expression had a nervous quality to it. It made Kiku want to sweep him up and hug him and kiss him and...Once again, Kiku cut her thoughts off. She was getting good at that, she thought humorlessly.
She found herself grabbing two bowls and serving the soup out. In fact, she didn’t really realize what was going on until both her and Oliver will sat down at the dinner table, and she was gazing deeply into her bowl.
“Kiku?” Oliver asked worriedly, causing the red-head to snap to, nearly throwing her spoon in the process. Oliver jumped a little in response, and Kiku looked around as if trying to figure out how she got here.
“Sorry...I was just reliving a few memories” she explained. It was half true. She remembered some good ones, but as for the others...while, she didn’t want to space out a second time. She was used to spacing out at least once a month when she came over, but to space out as much as she did in one visit...she probably took too big of a dose. Yes...that was it.
Kiku became acutely aware of the splendid taste of soup in her mouth. Looking down, she had taken a scoop and managed it to her mouth. All of her attention switched quickly to the exquisite taste. A warm sensation spread through her body as the steam in the air and the taste in her mouth caused her to just about lose her mind. She put a hand to her cheek as she hummed happily, the wonderful taste making her smile uncontrollably.
Oliver’s worry faded to the brightest smile Kiku had seen. “Sounds like you’re enjoying” he tried, a hint of apprehension in his voice. Kiku nodded quickly.
“It’s fantastic” she assured, resisting the urge to hug the boy. Though at this point, her inhibition was almost nonexistent. Eagerly, she dug into the soup, laying waste to the serving before her. She had finished before Oliver had laid spoon to soup.
Upon realizing this, Kiku blushed a little. God...she must have seemed so...gluttonous just then. Oliver didn’t seem to notice, and instead, he smiled his usual smile. “You really shouldn’t skip lunch” he chastised teasingly, waving his spoon at her like a teacher might do. He really was mature beyond his years. That, and he always had something nice to say, no matter the situation.
Oliver reached to the center of the table, withdrawing a napkin from the holder. He offered it to her. “You have a little bit of soup on your chin” he pointed out. Kiku felt herself blush deeply in embarrassment as she took it and tried as hard as humanly possible to let it absorb her. Unfortunately for her, it only succeeded in absorbing the stain, leaving her to deal with the situation, albeit minus the blemish of food particulates.
“Thanks…” she mumbled, trying her best to smile. Oliver just nodded.
“No problem. Don’t worry. You should see my dad eating. He makes an absolute mess. Mom gave up complaining about it a while ago” he said with a laugh, his eye glinting with happy memories. “What were your family like?”
Kiku almost choked on the soup she had scraped from her bowl.

After her near brush with death, Kiku had started clearing the table, which gave her the opportunity to avoid Oliver’s question by scrubbing the dishes with the steel wool. The truth was that she could have used the sponge, but she needed to feel metal right now.
Oliver followed her in a few minutes later with his dish. Patiently, he waited until she was done. Kiku put the pot on the drying rack and wiped her hands on a towel, turning with a smile towards Oliver.
Oliver was not smiling. His one eye was transfixed on her hand. Kiku followed his gaze to her hand, which caused her to quickly panic. In her anger, she had rubbed a gash into her hand with the steel wool. It was now bleeding in moderation and looking again, she could see a blood stain on the hand towel she had used.
“Oh crap...oh jesus...no...no...this can’t be...no, not now…” Kiku started ranting, her panic rising. She had a rather terrible reaction to blood, specifically human. It caused her to get...excited, if you will. In the bloodthirsty way. And she didn’t want to reveal that to Oliver. Ever.
The mentioned boy had pulled out of his stupor and had gotten some paper towels, grabbing Kiku’s hand in her panic. He wrapped the hand tightly as she manically fought him. He held onto it tightly, preventing her from escaping. Eventually, Kiku’s breathing calmed down and she clutched her chest with her other hand. Her eyes were focused on the floor in the other direction.
“It’s...it’s taken care of?” she asked quietly, afraid to look.
“Yeah. It should be good. Just let me switch out the paper towels and bind them together” he said, gently dragging Kiku along as he wrapped her hand quickly, then retrieved some tape from the drawers, wrapping it once around so that it held together.
Kiku finally looked up as she heard the snap of the tape off the holder. She let out a held in breath as she beheld the comforting white of the paper towels. Maybe that’s why she dressed in white; the sterility of it seemed to have a comforting effect.
Standing up straight, Kiku attempted to regain control of the situation. “That was careless of me” she joked, trying to smile. Oliver returned the unsure smile, her fear subsiding.
“I guess this just proves that I take care of you more” he joked back. Kiku felt a sincere smile as the air cleared. She gingerly reached for the bloody towel, only for Oliver to interpose between her and it. He gently pushed her hand down. “I’ll take care of it. You just rest on the couch. Why not pop a movie in?” he offered. Kiku nodded her thanks. She really, really hadn’t wanted to deal with that cloth. She couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t burn it while laughing insanely.
Idly, she perused the shelves. The Martells owned an impressive library of films, and Kiku had taken to watching them. The first time she had seen it, she had very nearly fallen to her knees and worshipped it. Never before had she seen so many movies in one place. She had a meager collection back at home, mainly whatever she could pick up at Goodwill. She wasn’t necessarily poor, but she did live a rather Spartan lifestyle...if you called a bed in your name and little else Spartan.
She shook her head, looking over the films. Which to watch...Luckily, Oliver was a milder boy, and he had the patience to sit through less action movies, and he had the softer persuasion to watch more emotional movies. Probably for the better, since any film with even remotely realistic blood set her off terribly. She drifted her finger along the rows of covers, before her finger caught on one. She tilted her head to look at the title. Some sci-fi film from the looks of it. She thought she’d heard of it somewhere. Seemed good enough in any case.
Kiku withdrew it and popped the case open, smoothly bringing the disk to the player. She loved the sound of the motors retracting the plate. It had become synonymous with her time here, which had become more of a home to her than anyone would know.
By the time she returned to the couch, Oliver had returned. He looked at the menu on the screen, and gave a smile. “Oh this one. You do realize it’s a little sad right?” he inquired. Kiku shrugged.
“It looked good” she explained, plopping down on the couch. Oliver shrugged as he sat beside Kiku, getting comfortable. Grabbing the remote, he hit selected the play option. Kiku only wished she could have leaned against him.

By the end of the film, Kiku was clutching Oliver’s coat, tears struggling to free themselves from the friction of her eyes. Oliver smiled softly as he gently stroked her hair.
“But was he? Did he make it home?” she whined. She would realize later how childish she was acting, and it caused many a blush in reference. But for now, all it was all she could do to clutch Oliver’s coat in resistance of her tears.
“That’s one of the great parts of this movie. You kinda get to decide what happened to him in the end. Personally, I like to think he was an alien” Oliver offered. “Come on. Let’s do something fun. After watching something sad, you kinda have to.” Kiku nodded her consent, standing up shakily.
“Jeez” she muttered. “You’d think I’d learn after enough of these. I still haven’t forgotten the last one.” Oliver gave a small laugh.
“That one had me on the brink of tears if you recall. A rather depressing ending. “We’ll be okay here” indeed.” Kiku laughed a little at the unexpected joke as Oliver lead her upstairs. She didn’t come up here often, as they spent most of their time downstairs. Even the Martells had limits to their trust. But now that they weren’t here…
Kiku had to admit that she had been in his room a number of times more than the ones that had been allowed. Kiku had a skill for getting in and out of places without people noticing or realizing she had disappeared.
Oliver flicked on the light, and Kiku got a blast of reality. For all his maturity, Oliver’s room was that of a 12 year old, with his “precious” items lining various surfaces. Posters he had picked up of animals, places, and such were hung up in various places, with whatever organization the boy could conjure.
Oliver dug about in a drawer, pulling various cords up, his eye moving up and down them with purpose. Kiku admired that gaze. So full of purpose and intent. “Anything you want to do specifically?” he inquired.
Kiku wiped her face, cleaning the last few stray tear trails. “Not really...have you made any progress on that game?” Kiku didn’t exactly like to be the decider.
Oliver nodded, pulling out his game system, before sitting on his bed. “Yep. I’ve been trying to find all the demons I can. Wanna see?” he asked excitedly. Kiku smiled and nodded, moving to sit beside Oliver, crossing her legs, leaning to look at the screen.
She could have sworn the light from the screen made her feel warm. That or Oliver. Maybe both.

“Night Kiku.”
“Night Oliver!” she returned, waving up the staircase to Oliver, who had just left the bathroom from brushing his teeth. Kiku had the rising urge to follow him, but knew that that would be…
In any case, it was time to head to bed herself...until she realized that she didn’t know where she’d sleep. Kiku briefly considered asking to sleep with Oliver, but she’d never be invited back again if the Martells heard of it. She had no intention of sleeping in the Martell’s bed. Kiku felt a slight sickening as she thought of herself being equated to Oliver’s mother. Not that Mrs. Martell was bad, but she certainly took up most of Oliver’s time…
Kiku eventually settled on the couch. Besides, if anyone tried to break in, she’d be there to stop them, she rationalized. It’s wasn’t the most comfy, but neither was her bed back at home. So Kiku found herself drifting towards a sleep that was arguably better than the one at home. In fact, knowing Oliver was in the same building, and having him know she was here…
That was better than any dream.

A strange weight Juon didn’t remember was over Juon when she came to. Opening her eyes drowsily, she looked about, trying to figure out where she was, because it certainly wasn’t her dark apartment. The memories of the previous day rushed back and she sat up immediately, looking around as if to verify that it had actually happened.
A light chuckle drew her attention to the figure of Oliver in the doorway to the kitchen. He was smiling down at her, his hair dangerously cute with bed head. “How’d you sleep?” he inquired. “You could have slept in the spare bedroom.”
Kiku face-palmed as she forgot all about the spare room, which had belonged to Oliver’s older sister, Lily. Lily was college bound, and Kiku had only met her once or twice. They didn’t exactly see eye to eye, but Lily wasn’t around enough for it to make much of a difference.
Kiku become suddenly aware that she was wrapped in something. Looking down, she saw that a white blanket had appeared at some point. Her gaze swept from the blanket to Oliver. “I came out a bit after we said goodnight to get some water and saw you on the couch. I got a blanket from the closet” he motioned to the source. Kiku nodded.
“Thank you Oliver. Here, let me…” she started getting up but Oliver held a hand up.
“I’ve already made some breakfast. Nothing special, just some waffles and fruit. Maybe some orange juice if we can hunt it in the depths of the fridge” he joked, reaching a hand to Kiku. She took it gingerly, turning a number of shades brighter.
Following Oliver into the kitchen, they partook in a pleasant breakfast. Kiku hummed a happy tune as she enjoyed the best breakfast of her life. At home, she’d usually fish whatever she’d cooked in the past few days out and eat a portion of that. Here, she was eating food lovingly...caringly made by the single most important person in her life, even if he didn’t know it.
Kiku did her part by clearing the dishes, despite Oliver putting up a valiant effort to take care of them himself. She had played the trump card of “you need to pack your stuff for school”, which had caused him to relent with a sigh. As soon as he was out of sight, she gave a loving sigh.
“Such a sweet boy. And so great around the house. Truly the greatest any woman could hope for” she muttered, her thoughts turning sour as she realized that she wouldn’t be the only one who’d pine after him. Her clutch on the dish threatened to snap it, but she pulled herself back out of it.
By the time Oliver arrived with his messenger bag, Kiku had diligently cleaned all the dishes and had stored them. She could really work hard when she wanted to. And she always wanted to please Oliver.

“Thanks for the ride. I like your car” Oliver complimented, nearly making Kiku stop on their way out. No one ever complimented her car. It was a plain white, low-slung, average work-a-day man’s car. Completely average by every standard. But, she supposed, to a person of his age, having your own car was a great thing.
As he slipped into the passenger’s seat, he placed his messenger bag next to her bag, causing Kiku to panic a bit. She hoped he didn’t ask about the bag. Quickly sliding into the driver’s seat, she turned to him. “All buckled?”
“Yep. We’re all good’ he affirmed as she looked over her shoulder, preparing to back out. In no time at all, they were in route to Oliver’s school, which was a fair distance away.
Oliver seemed to fidget a little, as if he was bothered by something. “Is anything the matter?” Kiku asked tentatively.
Rubbing his neck nervously, he phrased his question slowly. “I know I asked you yesterday...and you kinda reacted badly...but I really wanted to know what your family was like…” he finished, sounding almost apologetic for asking.
Kiku could only find it in herself to smile at him. “It’s okay Oliver. It really is. I’m not mad at you, so you can calm down. I’m just not used to people asking about me” she admitted. “Truth is, I like your family way more. I was one of two children, and I haven’t seen my sister in a long time.”
Since you went bat-shit crazy, interjected the all too familiar sound of her own doubt and guilt.
Pushing it aside, Kiku continued: “My mom was really nice when I was younger, but as I grew up, we clashed more and eventually I left. That’s all there is to it really” he finished. She bit her tongue as if to punish herself for lying.
Truth was, her mother had been nice to her when she was younger. The two had a great bond, and she could remember sunny afternoons of baking in the kitchen with her, her sister whizzing around, just shy by a few years, and although she couldn’t remember her father’s face, she remembered the strong pillar of comfort that he had given.
Truth was, this was what made it worse. Her mother cared so much that when Kiku started losing it, she had very nearly killed herself trying to protect Kiku. Eventually love gave way to hatred. Her mother crumbled away, only to be reborn as a spirit of hatred that scolded and reviled Kiku until she wasn’t even sure the woman who taught her which spices made the best soup even existed within the dark hole that was this new woman.
She had spat vile things at Kiku towards the end, blaming her for the family’s fate, her lost years, and the loss of their father, her husband. As far as she understood, he hadn’t been able to handle it and had run off, to God knows where. The last thing Kiku remembered of that life was only a few years ago, when she had bid her sister adieu before she disappeared into the night.
All of this is what she didn’t say to Oliver, though she said it all through her bone-crushing grip on the steering wheel, turning her knuckled white. Oliver’s single gold eye looked on at her and a tinge of sadness crossed it.
So when Oliver hugged her as she pulled into the parking lot, she very nearly hit the floor with the gas in surprise, only suppressing the urge because Oliver was present. He held her tight for a moment, one that Kiku would remember as lasting hours to her, before he got his bag, and with a smile, he stepped out.
Just before he left, he turned, standing in the morning sunlight, bag over his shoulder, his one eye focused on her. And he smiled.
Kiku could only draw one thought as she smiled back, and she mouthed it to herself as soon as he wasn’t looking.
“I’ll wait as long as needed.”