#renho

“We used to watch this show a lot—Ann and me.” Her voice was soft. She returned her gaze to the charm, distant and nostalgic. “Ann used to admire the villain a lot. I wonder if they have… Ah, here it is! Maybe I should buy one and show her the next time we meet.”

Smiling to herself, then, with a nod, she set off to the cashier to buy the charm of a woman in a red suit. Ren watched her ponytail bobbed and swayed in rhythm with her step, trying and failing to ignore the pang in his chest. Maruki’s reality—that was all this was: a figment of whoever’s imagination following Ann’s dream shattering that reminded him the false utopia still lived.

He’d found her a couple weeks back, browsing the shelves of the sport equipment stores here in the underground mall. The sight of her had shaken him to the core that, for a good long second, he had stood frozen, until Morgana peeked out of his bag and climbed onto his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” the cat had asked.

Wordlessly, Ren had pointed at Shiho’s petite figure, only for Morgana to see nothing but thin air amongst the stacks of cold spray. Ren couldn’t believe the cat, gave him an incredulous look, only to receive a quizzical gaze in return.

“There!” he’d said again. “Right there picking up a can of—”

Morgana had disappeared from his shoulder when Ren turned his head. He couldn’t find him, no matter where he’d looked. And just as he’d thought the cat must have slipped away somehow—which, if Ren was honest, had been absurd since he had neither heard him plop to the floor nor felt the soft touch of his paws down his back—a familiar voice had called his name.

“Ren?”

Ren blinked. Shiho now stood in front of him, peering up his face through the unkempt hair he called his bangs. The sudden proximity—or, more like, the sudden materialization of the girl he’d been recalling—jolted him in surprise, pushing him to take a step back.

“You okay? You seem rather out of it.”

“I’m fine.” Ren cleared his throat. “Anyway, where to next?”

“Well, this is supposed to be date—”

Curse the flutter in his heart.

“—maybe somewhere date-like, I guess? Movies? Diner? Now that I think about it, I have no idea what people do on dates.” She flashed a sheepish grin at him. “Sorry, I guess we’ve just been going along with my whims.”

“I quite enjoyed your whims, actually.”

His words made her pause, and for a split moment, he wondered if he’d said something wrong. But then her smile grew, just a little around the edges, with a tinge of pink coloring her cheeks.

He remembered that look. When they had passed by the florist and the owner had called him aside, she’d asked him if he was on a date. Their vehement denials had only prompted her to giggle and say it was a shame. “You look good together,” she’d said. It had sounded like a tease, but the kindness in her eyes had seemed to speak otherwise. And apparently Shiho had thought the same, because her denials had stopped short, followed by a momentary pause in which her cheeks had grown red. Her smile had come soon after, slow but sure—a small thing. One would have thought Shiho was shy.

She’d turned to him then, and with that smile remaining on her face, said, “It seems we look good together.”

Never had Ren felt a powerful urge to draw someone into his arms and never let go.

***

They went outside, where winter was well on its way and dark clouds gathered in the sky. The weather report from early that morning said it would snow later today—which should be soon. He wondered if he could watch the snowfall with Shiho.

In Central Street, Shiho noted how everything looked different, even though nothing had changed. An effect of Maruki’s reality, perhaps? Or simply the fact that she had been gone for almost a year.

“There’s the crepe stall we used to queue on weekends,” she said. “Ann loved asking me out to the diner, too. Oh, I remember going to that karaoke place during middle school—” She stopped, then glanced at him. Another one of those sheepish smiles. “Sorry, it’s not a very date-like topic, is it?”

“No, no, please continue. I enjoy hearing about them.”

Again, that pause, but this time Ren was conscious enough to realize he’d made her blush. He should stop doing that! Because her blush would make him blush, and her smile would make him smile. But this was only a dream that would shatter once he defeated Maruki and returned the world to the way it was. If he let his heart flutter anymore than this, he’d never be able to let her go.

“Hey.” She tugged at his sleeve. “Wanna go to the arcade?”

***

Arcade games might not be the best to judge one’s physical prowess, but watching Shiho winning the basketball game was a sight to behold.

“You’re losing on purpose!”

Shiho laughed as she landed another perfect score inside the basket. Within the allotted time, she had already achieved 25 points, whereas Ren was still sitting on a measly 14.

“No, I’m not.” Ren offered his own chuckle. “You’re just better at sports than I am.”

Time ran out; the number “27” flashed across the screen of Shiho’s machine. Shiho grinned from ear to ear.

“Tired?” she asked.

“Not in the least.”

“Well, I am. Guess I’m still a bit out of it.” Shiho rolled her shoulders, and it seemed like their basketball game had really taken a toll on her. “Let’s get something to drink.”

Ren intercepted her before she could move. “Let me. I’ll make a quick run to the store; you stay here.”

Shiho’s protests fell on deaf ears as Ren rushed to the double sliding doors before she could stop him. The frigid wind stung his face the moment he stepped out. Pulling his coat tighter around himself, he hurried to the store next door, where he bought two cups of hot coffee and threw in a bag of chips. He thanked the cashier, then made his way out. He had barely left the store when a voice called him from behind:

“Amamiya-kun.”

Ren froze. A few aisles down, behind one of the shelves, Maruki stood in a sweater and coat, his unkempt brown hair falling over his eyes. For a split second, Ren was back in that white office, sitting on those brown sofas and being offered candies and food in return for helping with his research. For that split second, Maruki was not the maniac who’d fancied himself a savior.

“Relax,” his former teacher said when Ren put up his guard. He moved out of his aisle with both hands raised. “I’ve come in peace.”

“Peace offerings rarely involve skulking behind someone’s back.”

Maruki smiled thinly. “Care to take this outside? You wouldn’t want an audience overhearing our conversation.”

While Ren would rather not agree, he nodded, then let Maruki walk in front of him.

The former counselor led him to an empty spot between the store and arcade. Above him, the sky looked ominous. The heat was slowly seeping away from his coffee. He’d have to finish this conversation soon.

“What do you want?” Ren asked. They still had a few days before the deadline.

“I came to check on you. Your countenance, for one, looks much better than I had expected. Brighter, I’d say. Softer.”

Ren narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Why. this reality, of course. The effect of having Shiho Suzui by your side.”

Shiho?

At his stricken silence, Maruki blinked in surprise. “You haven’t figured it out.”

“What haven’t I figured out exactly?” Ren asked through gritted teeth. “I know she’s part of your world. I know she’s not real. None of my friends can see her. Why? Some kind of effect from your reality, no doubt. It’s like you’re playing with my head, conjuring a lifelike apparition that only I can see to convince me to—”

“I didn’t conjure her.” Maruki’s interruption was quiet but firm. His eyes behind those spectacles showed sympathy instead of scorn. “You conjured her yourself.”

“No, I didn’t—”

No—wait. A memory surfaced to his mind of a brief talk they had one afternoon after school. Among the regrets he’d had during this entire ordeal, Shiho was close to the top. The girl who’d shown him kindness when all others had shown contempt, content with believing baseless rumors and calling him a problem kid. Her bright smile had been his sole respite, an oasis in a desert of abhorrence.

But then she jumped.

“You wanted to save her,” Maruki went on. “You said you wished you could’ve prevented that incident from ever happening.”

He did, and so did Ann. Who was it who broke her reality when Shiho could’ve lived happily there? A hypocrite—that’s what he was—for wanting to preserve this moment when his friends had sacrificed theirs.

Ren clenched his hands. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

“Not quite, yes, but an alternate reality nonetheless in which the girl you love never had to experience those things. Would you not give her that?”

He would. Which was why he would not have blamed his friends had they chosen to stay within their dreams. Who was he to deny them of their desires? But they had chosen to break free. They had chosen to help him. Whatever honeyed words Maruki said, however perfect this new reality seemed to be, in the end, it would only be an illusion, and like every illusion, it would eventually shatter.

His lips tugged into a quiet smile even as his heart began to break. “Thank you for bringing me back to my senses, Doc,” he said. He bowed his head. “I’ll see you at the Palace.”

He bid Maruki goodbye, then headed back inside the arcade, stopping short just as the doors slid open because his coffee had gotten cold and he should buy another. He had just climbed down the steps when the arcade doors slid open again. A familiar pair of footsteps stopped behind him.

“There you are!” Shiho was scowling, though her eyes were more worried than angry. “What took you so long?”

The crack echoed in his ears. He felt the tears sting his eyes before his throat closed in a quiet sob. Noticing the change, Shiho tilted her head to the side. “Ren?” she called his name. Her voice was so soft and gentle and warm. No longer would it ring in his ears.

He cupped her cheek, then felt her jump, felt her eyes try to meet his. But his gaze was trained on the prominence of her cheekbones, where a bruise used to color it purple but now only a pale white remained. She relaxed into his touch.

“I’ve got to go,” she said, “haven't I?”

Ren looked at her with a start. A small, knowing smile spread across her lips.

“You knew?”

“Always.”

“How?”

Shiho shrugged. “Just that, the memories I know to be true would often contradict the visions I would have in my mind.”

Was it because of him? His inability to accept this new reality prompted him to conjure an imperfect apparition of the one thing his heart desired most. His lips trembled; the tears he’d held at bay slowly rolled down his face.

“I’m sorry.”

But Shiho shook her head, and she enveloped his hand with hers. “Don’t be, Ren. For what it is worth, I am happy.”

Her smile reached her eyes, and Ren burned that image into his mind.

“Ah! Before I forget.” She reached into her pockets, then withdrew a small silver charm. A flower. “Iris,” she said. “I found it at the accessory shop.” She dropped the charm on Ren’s open palm. It weighed as heavy as the torrent raging inside him.

“I thought you bought a charm for Ann.”

“Ah, well…” Shiho chuckled. “I’m not exactly real, so even if I did, I wouldn’t be able to give it to her.”

Ren pursed his lips, enclosing the charm in his fist. For a heartbeat, they stood there, hand in hand, gazing into each other. It was a brief glimpse—the glint he spotted in her gray eyes. Before he knew it, she had risen to her tiptoes and pressed a featherlight kiss to his cheek.

“Have faith, Ren,” came her whisper. “We’ll meet again.”

Like a dream waning into light, her corporeal form faded until only glimmers remained. Something cold and wet landed on his skin, stealing the lingering warmth of Shiho’s kiss. Snow had fallen in soft flurries of crystal and ice. But Shiho was no longer there.

“I’ll come find you.” With breath clouding in front of his face, Ren vowed into the sky. “Once all of this is over, I’ll come find you, and we’ll start anew.”

In his mind, he could see the brilliant beam gracing Shiho’s lips. It lit up her features.