[Kenji] Clairvoyance

Clairvoyance


My face scrapes against the ground as I practically slide across the sidewalk, gritting my teeth in an stupid attempt to null the pain.

"Oh yeah? Well you fuckers can go eat a dick! I'll find somewhere else to drink!"

The guard waves his hand as the other laughs at me. I shoot them the finger as I turn my back and march down the street, the night illuminated by some neon lights to various bars, clubs, resturaunts...

You know, night life in the city.

My clothes smell fucking terrible. They're dirty and ridden with holes galore; probably one for each time I've been tossed out of a bar this week. I don't have anywhere else to go, or really any money. I've got maybe enough in my wallet for three more drinks at somewhere cheap, but that's it.

I haven't worked in almost four weeks, so this seems to be my punishment. Sleeping on the streets, hunting for coins and lost bills...

I mean shit, if I'm not at rock bottom, then what the hell does it take to get there?

Hopefully I won't be here for long though. I got some inside information on a hideout for some feminists, and with a few homemade bombs, those bitches will be gone and I'll be getting a big time pay day!

It's the perfect plan.

Kill them, steal their money, and get away with it.

Who would have thought some of the answers to life could be so simple to achieve?

I continue to make my way up the street, passing bar after bar, looking for the right place for a cheap drink. I scowl at people who pass by me, making sure they keep there distance. I swear, even if I'm fucking up, you can't trust anyone.

Well, at least almost everyone.

I did trust one guy. My 'best friend', I guess is what I should consider him, but shit, I cut contact with him over a month ago. I don't think I'm willing to bring him down with me; the dude bailed me out more times that I can count on both hands. There isn't any point in mooching money and food off of people if you don't even know the next time you'll have a half decent meal.

Speaking of the devil, my stomach growls loudly as I move my hands to it, rubbing it a bit to try and calm it down.

I frown.

It's been a day since I last ate. No money to even buy a loaf of bread from the convenience store anymore, as that money is going towards a couple of beers.

I need that alcohol.

It's probably the only thing that keeps me sane in an insane world.

I touch my hand to the top of my forehead, cringing at the touch. It stings like hell, and I'm sure it hurts just as bad as it looks. Stupid bouncers, kicking me out for getting rowdy. The fuck is the point in being proper in a bar? I mean, if I want to hop in front of everyone and call for another shot, what the hell am I doing wrong?

Finally, after a long and painful walk, a sign catches my eye.

'The Runner's High'.

Cheesy name if you ask me, but they've got some cheap friday night beer deal going on tonight, so what the hell. It's probably only about an hour away from closing anyways, so I might as well gather up the leftovers.

I walk forward and push through the door, revealing a place with all of the makings of a fantastic bar. Good atmosphere, not huge, decent amount of people, quirky design - that's just the way I like it.
I bowl my way through a couple of groups standing and socializing to the bar, flopping down on a stool and rubbing my temples.

My head feels beyond terrible. I don't even have the word to describe it, but it damn sure hurts worse than any other kind of pain I've felt in my life. It just continues to pound nonstop, the cuts spread across still stinging and releasing some blood.

I get a couple of odd looks from people on both sides of me. A couple of people take a peek and turn back to their party, probably making jokes at my appearance. I'll be honest, I probably would be laughing too, as a guy who hasn't even taken a shower or gotten changed in almost a fucking week.

As my thoughts begin to turn angry, as if they aren't pissed off enough, the dark-skinned, quite attractive young bartender makes her way down the line to me, offering me a fairly fake smile. I can tell it's fake, her body language completely gives it away: she's irritated over something, but I'd have to be a mind reader to find out what.

"Welcome to - " She pauses for a moment and stares at me for a moment in fascination. I return the look, and after a moment, her face becomes extremely familiar. Where the hell have I seen her face before?
Maybe the the club the other week? Nah, that was definitely someone else.

She finally gathers her thoughts together and wags a finger at me.

"You. Is your name Kenji?"

Alright, now you're creeping me out a bit, lady. I don't tell women my fucking name, at least I haven't since my days back at Yamaku.

Then, I catch a glimpse of her other arm, and the hand - I mean, stump, pressed against her hip as she leans up against the bar, eyeing me up and down.

She waves her hand in front of my face.

"Hello, anybody home?"

I shake my head for a moment, clearing away the cobwebs.

"Yeah, the name's Kenji. What's it to you?"

Fuck. What was her name! I remember her, from all those years ago. Graduation week, a couple of lunches with Hisao and myself up on the roof, saw her walking through campus from my window a couple of times...

"What? C'mon Kenji, don't tell me you don't remember an old acquaintance!"

She pushes her lower lip out into a pout, a look that really doesn't suit her too well. She seems like she'd be more of the tough kind of person, as her body seems to be in pretty damn good physical condi-

There it is.

"Miura was it? Sorry, my mind is a bit... fuzzy from way back when."

"Just call me Miki, darling."

Well, she's quite upfront. Not sure if I trust her or not, but there's a sort of aura about her that makes her different from other women in this place. I don't know how to explain it, she's just extremely... approachable? Would that be the right word to use?

Before I can open my mouth again, she runs off down the bar to another man calling for a drink. It appears she and one other person are the only two working here tonight, which must be tough considering the fairly large crowd. Within a moment she hurries back, a glass of what appears to be rum in her hand.
Like I can really tell, I mean, I really can't see shit as it is.

She offers me a toothy smile, leaning in against her arms on the bar.

"This one's on the house. I'm not going to lie, boy, you look like shit. What's up with you?"

She's quite upfront about things, especially for a woman. People have begun filtering out, the crowd finally beginning to thin out as only about seven or so people remain in the bar. I check my watch, the casing cracked from years of abuse.

Only about ten minutes til this place closes up for the night.

It's a bit disappointing, really. Not even just that I won't be able to have a couple of drinks, but something here makes me feel at peace with my thoughts a bit.

I know as soon as I hit those streets again, it's going to be one hell of a rough night.

The final party of people force their way out of the bar, stumbling and laughing obnoxiously while obviously drunk as hell.

Miki snaps her fingers in front of my face, nearly making me piss myself.

"Didn't you hear me? You've be really quiet for about a minute now, and you've got me a bit worried."

"I'm sorry, I'm just not in a good place right now. You're closing up, right? I should probably head out of-"

"No. You can stay, all I have to do is go lock the door. Unless, that is, you have somewhere else to be."

I ponder making up an excuse for a moment. The idea of bombing the place down the street has suddenly come to sounding like a horrible idea.

I am at fucking rock bottom.

I take my glasses off and sit them on the bar as Miki steps out and heads to lock the front door, my trembling hand bringing the glass of rum to my lips.

Ah. Rum and Coke, a glorious mixture of flavors.

She returns once again, pulling a stool out on the opposite side of the bar, looking at me.

"Let me ask you again: what's up with you?"

"More shit that you've got time to listen to, woman."

She eyes me with curiosity, but also with a bit of what appears to be sadness. Why is she feeling sad for me? There is nobody on this planet that should feel bad for me, especially not a fucking gir-

Ah, there I fucking go again. Who the hell am I to say every one of these girls are evil? For fucks sake, this girl drank the night away with me after graduation, and she was one hell of a fun person to be around back then...

"I've got as much time as you need, darling. I listened to your 'women are the root of all evil' bullshit almost two years ago, I'm pretty sure you can trust me."

"Isn't it a bit weird to ask some raggy-looking, insane guy from high school what's wrong with him when we've literally only been talking for a half an hour?"

"Not really. It's only weird if you make it that way."

I sigh, slicking my hair back as my hand continues to tremble.

"Fine. You want to know what the fucks wrong with me?"

I'm getting furious, my voice cracking under pressure. How do I even have emotions after all of that tough guy shit I played off back at Yamaku? I shouldn't feel anger or sadness, but here I am, feeling like I'm about to break down in a miserable fit.

"I'll tell you what the fucks wrong with me. I've been living on the fucking streets for almost a week now, I haven't worked in almost four weeks and have absolutely no fucking money to eat, drink or even find a place to take a shower anymore. That's what the hell is wrong with me, Miki."

I'm not even upset at her.

I'm upset at myself.

Her eyes are wide as she stares with a frightened, yet apologetic look. She doesn't appear to regret asking, but she looks like it might not have been the best thing to start out on.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get that angry. It's just... not been a good while. I have no friends anymore because I did what was best for them and cut contact. I haven't even been able to score a bartending job since I lost my last one. I've wasted all of my money on alcohol and stupid, pointless shit. It's at the point where I have no fucking clue where I'm going, other than that it's certainly nowhere good."

She looks down at her feet, her face a bit red. Did I manage to upset her? Christ, I can't do anything right.

"Listen to me, Kenji. I think you're the first guy who's ever stumbled into my bar and poured his heart out to a girl he just started talking to again, and that's being said about you, the guy who hates everything about women."

I rub the back of my head, rustling my hair up a bit. I pick my eyes up and finally manage to look into her eyes, and I swear, a glow is emanating from her body. Maybe it's just lack of food playing tricks on my head, but fuck, if a pair of wings grew from her back right now, I would be convinced that she's an angel.

Someone willing to put up with my bullshit for even five minutes? I don't see how she can even manage that.

A silence settles between us for a couple of moments. It's not as awkward as I would have imagined, as I think it's more of one of those things where we're both just sitting and thinking about what to do next.
She's heard my problems, and I hope she feels no obligation to try and help me. I deserve the shit I've gotten myself into, so I should be the only one trying to fix what I've broken in my life.

Another minute passes by before she finally speaks up.

"Listen. I know this seems sudden and all, and I can tell you I feel a bit strange putting this out there, but..." She trails off for a moment, gathering her words together.

"Why don't you come back to my place and we talk a bit more? I know you're looking for a place to stay, and don't even try and bullshit your way out of that one. I'll make you something to eat, and while the apartment is a bit cramped because it's only meant for one person... I'll make sure that works. You can borrow my shower and everything, as you really look like you could use it. Come crash with me for a couple of nights, I don't mind. In fact, I'd really appreciate it if you accepted."

I raise my eyebrow at her, trying to figure out what the hell is logical and illogical in her head. She literally just invited me, some dude she knew a little bit in high school that is wearing torn up clothes to spend the night with her, and even make him dinner.

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

She rubs the back of her neck with her stump.

"I don't know. Maybe it's because now that you seem to be past your stage of hating everything about women, you really seem like a nice guy. I want to get to know you a little bit more, even if this all does seem sudden."

"There's got to be some catch though, right? I mean really, I'm going to have to pay you back somehow, and I don't have any money to do that..."

"You said you were a bartender, right?"

She grins at me. This girl might just be some form of an angel, and I'm pretty sure I'm convinced of it now. I feel like I can see things in a new light now, almost as if they're more clear to me.

"Yeah, but what's that have to do with anything?"

"You can stay with me for as long as you want as long as you work for me."

Holy shit. Does she own this place?

"Wait a minute. You actually own this joint?"

She taps her stump against her chest and shoots me yet another toothy smile, as this is obviously something she's really proud of.

"My parents helped me get started and I've ran with it ever since. So, do we have the two of us a deal?"
She puts her hand out across the bar, leaving it hanging in the air for me. Without any hesitation, I grab it firmly.

"Alright. Let's get home, I'm sure you're starving."

"Yeah, no kidding."

----------

I step out of the bathroom in a pair of lounge pants and a loose fitting shirt that we picked up, along with a few other outfits, on the walk home from the bar. The smell of rice greets my nose, practically floating me into the small kitchen in the front of the apartment. I'm greeted by a plate of chicken and rice, a meal that makes my mouth water more than it should.

Sitting opposite of me is Miki.

I still can't get over how generous of a person she has been to me in less than four hours. It's a bit strange, but I have no reason to complain. She's literally offered me a place to live and a job for as long as I need them, which I'm hoping won't be an overly long time.

But then again, who knows? I could be here for a while and she could end up kicking me out.

I shake the thoughts out of my head as I dig into the plate before me, Miki watching intently as I go to town on the food. It's absolutely delicious, and that's not just because I haven't eaten in over a day now.

"You are one damn good cook, Miki."

Her cheeks redden a bit as she smiles, looking down at the table. Does she get embarrassed over compliments? That might be something I can use to my advantage.

"I put a lot of heart into that one, so it better be good."

The meal passives in a comfortable silence, all washed down with an unbelievably refreshing glass of ice water. I stand up and take the dishes over to the sink, rinsing them off and stacking them neatly in the rack. I take a peek at the clock on the stove.

3:37 in the morning.

"Shit Miki, I didn't mean to keep you up this late!"

She shrugs.

"I've taken the day off tomorrow so that I can help you settle in a bit here. We need to get you a couple more pairs of clothes so that you'll be presentable for work the next day as it is."

"How do you take the day off at a place you run?"

She grins at me, a bit of deviousness showing out as her teeth begin to come out from behind her lips.
"Easy. I just close it for the day."

"But isn't that- "

"No but's. That's final." With that, she steps forward and wraps me in a hug. It's quite awkward, but more than comfortable. Her skin is quite soft against mine, a hint of vanilla lingering as she pats me on the back before releasing me.

"I hope you don't mind sharing a bed with me for the night, by the way. It's a king, so we'll have more than enough room. I'd feel bad making you sleep on the floor without a mattress or something. Is that okay with you?"

My mind steers clear of the original direction, ending up in a nod.

"Just remember, boy, try anything funny and your ass is back on the street."

"Yes ma'am."

With that, we head back into the bedroom. She veers off into the bathroom, telling me I'm free to watch TV or whatever while she was going to take a shower.

I shuffle into the room and take my glasses off, sitting them on the nightstand by the side of the bed. She wasn't kidding when she said about there being more than enough room - the bed literally almost takes up the entire room.

My thoughts begin to wind down as I crawl underneath the covers. My head crashes down onto the pillow below me, and god damn, does it ever feel good to be sleeping in a bed rather than a bus stop.

As Miki gets back from her shower, I can feel myself drifting to sleep, and once she enters, she joins me in bed, giving me one very awkward hug from behind. She reaches over and turns the light out on her nightstand, leaving me falling into the darkness of sleep.

Before I manage to black out, though, I whisper a few words to her.

"Hey Miki?"

"What's up?"

"Thank you. I really, really mean it."

"No need to thank me. Just helping someone who looks like they deserve it."

I don't really deserve any help, but my brain as finally stopped functioning. I'll tuck that thought away and think about it some other time. Finally, my breathing slows to an even, rhythmic pace.

I surrender my body to slumber willingly for the first time in a long, long time.