22 The Night, The Dark
Snowy Day at the Bakery
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Genre: Thriller, Psychological
Summary: 19 yo maid cafe worker Hitomi chose to skate instead of doing cheer. Traumatized by loss, she meets a captivating stranger named Chae-won, and the two spend an entire night forgetting everything behind them.
Word Count: 3839
Hashtag: #SSBB_NightDark
The Night, The Dark
The night rain fell down in torrents, washing away everything. The trees shed their leaves, the telephone poles sank to the ground. The headlights of cars in the distance, driving into nothing. Everything was a blur, as her heart raced faster. Her feet couldn’t keep up. The lights were getting dim, the rain poured harder. It beat upon her face: tears in the rain. The rain washed away everything. Except her fears. Everything except her fears. Deeper still. She went farther into the alleyways. Heavy footsteps crept up on her. Got up her leg and into her skin. The fog from afar drove at lightning speed toward her, all around her was the black fog-- A high-pitched scream pierced the sky. Lasted for seconds, and-- it stopped. No one heard it. The rain consumed it. The blood ran between his fingers. It mixed with the rainwater as it entered the storm drain. Rain, rain. As it were, consummate. Entire. . . . “We have received breaking news from police investigators about the whereabouts of nineteen-year-old Suzuki Makoto, who disappeared almost a month ago in Utsunomiya-shi, Tochigi prefecture.” Hitomi didn’t hear anything. Only the blank letters of the screen emitted a deep and resonating fuzz. And the rest of the world followed suit. “Ms. Suzuki’s body was reported by volunteer search crews just within the last hour in Nikko City forest just a few miles away from a camera lens manufacturing plant. “The body was pronounced dead at the scene by first responders. Coroners have estimated her time of death to be two days earlier, within the violent rainstorms that have covered the greater Tochigi area. “The rainstorms had delayed the recovery effort by a week. The recovery effort had to be called off yet again, due to the 3.6-magnitude earthquake that affected the Tochigi region. “Police are asking for any details on the disappearance of Ms. Suzuki.” Nothing sounded the same anymore. The TV is off, but it still was on in her mind. Inside, was the imprinted image of the camera lens plant. The early morning light threaded through her blinds, and intersected with the brilliant corners of her immaculate room. Her digital clock spelled out a new time once more. She saw the reflection of it through her mirror. She looked at herself once more. Her sort of flat face and round cheeks, and the pursed lips that concealed a wide smile, no longer happy. She sorted her hair into a low ponytail and got dressed. She bowed down in front of the mirror with her hands clasped in front politely. With her head down, she’d let all the bad memories pour out of her head, and in place, let reservation and customer satisfaction take root like a computer program. “Honda Hitomi at your service! Hello and welcome, may I please take your order?” On the way out the door, she grabbed something of hers. Big and heavy. Against the system. If you were a passerby, you wouldn’t know what it was. Hitomi waited at the lowered railroad crossing with an old businessman. The metallic ringing of the train stop went on for quite a while. The train had already been long gone, but it was still flashing. The old man looked at her dress and skateboard with quiet disdain. Hitomi smoothed out the creases in her black dress, and the white ruffled apron atop. Underneath her full skirt were classic Vans high-tops. They were filled with holes on one side of her left shoe. She ducked under the barrier, and ran. Of course, if you were a passerby you wouldn’t know what Hitomi was holding. But the moment that the wheels hit the ground, whole blocks can hear what you are. When you’re Hitomi, that’d meant at the first sound, she wanted that for herself, too. The rumbling of the road beneath the wheels. The feel of the griptape around the edges of the wood. The slightest shift in weight, the gliding of a toe against asphalt. She was hooked. The skateboard hit the pavement, and she got on it with grace. Through Utsunomiya-shi she went. Urethane wheels went over cracks, roared under smooth and rough concrete, over curbs and tactile paving. The green light filtering through the trees, the sounds of construction-- all was melted into a delicate blur, like a smudge of paint. Her rubber sole dragged on the pavement before she scooped the board up deftly. She went around the side of her workplace, to the back entrance. Her co-workers who had had earlier shifts were hanging out there, taking a break. A few were practicing on their boards. “Yo, Shi-chan.” She was her senior, but everyone called her Shi-chan. “What’s good, Hii-chan.” “Nothin’. You?” “Just thinking about Mako-chan. You saw the news this morning? We heard it on the radio this morning. Nagare-sama had to turn it off, before he was gonna yak. Seriously, it’s just tragic what happened to her. . .Smoke, Komugi?” “Aye, thanks.” “Hii-chan?” “I’m good. Gimme some of your Redbull, though. You saying?” “Sure. And yeah, it’s just. . .none of us are feeling it today. We’re. . .We’re thinking about going to the park.” “Tumuji? It’s gonna be hella busy when we get off. Let’s just hit Frogland like usual.” “That’s what I said: none of us are feeling it today.” Shi-chan snuffed out the cigarette with her heel. “You can do street any time. We’re going to hit Tumuji right now. You coming with?” A loud crack of wood and a crunch of a body landing on the pavement stopped everyone. The victim cursed loudly, clutching her shoulder. Her board was broken in the middle-- it had served its purpose, and was only a wooden board with wheels now. She was okay after she had something to drink; she jumped in the air and sat on the board with a crash. It was now broken in half, to everyone’s cheer. . . . The girls went together on the Tobu Utsunomiya Line. They took turns hopping the ticket gate when no-one was looking. Komugi accepted a bet to land a trick in the middle of moving foot traffic. Tumuji skate park was a little bit aways from the station, and despite the long travels, it was worth it to attend one of the few skate parks dotted across Japan. No less than Tumuji, even-- this one was indoors, replete with a variety of environments suited to street riders as well as those who rode vert: Concrete stairs meant for gapping, not walking up and down. Large concrete bowls for dropping into. Rails in the middle of slopes for grind tricks. All were kept in good condition, provided that the small entrance fee was there to keep any evil intentions that were prevalent in public parks out. All in the thick of Tumuji were maids, skating around. The frills in their dresses exaggerated their movements, yet they never got in the way of what they wanted to do. The girls went for a few hours until it was lunchtime. When the time came, they sat down at a lakeside bench together. Above them was a no smoking sign. Shizue and Komugi still took draws from the same cigarette. It was above them-- how could they have seen it? “God, Mako-chan woulda loved this place.” “She’d like us to be here, maybe. To get away from it all.” “We’ve been doing that since forever.” Suddenly, a girl just about their age bolted across, just a hair-width away. It caught all of their attention. In a second the girl had a board under her feet, and she dropped into a bowl at speed. She weaved through oncoming skaters effortlessly, and committed to vert tricks that the three maids had only seen the pros use. “Irish shuffles? Fakie spin back disaster, 360 out. . .!?” “Reptar bars. . .Reptar bars. . .” “What the hell’s a reptar bar?” The girl started to pump the bowls and volcanoes. With a flick of her feet, she exited out of the bowl with a flip trick. “It’s a nose stall to 360 smith.” Her fluidity was like the vortex of a coffee or tea just stirred. Tricks as clean as fresh icing. Onlookers--quite a few--were cheering for her, and slapping their boards down onto the ground. The girl stopped and sat down, removing her hood. She was insanely cute. “Hii-chan, we’re gonna dip, now.” “You guys go. I’m gonna stay a while longer.” “‘Ight, just take care of yourself. We’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.” “See you.” Hitomi walked up to the girl. She felt her palms sweating through the grip tape of her board, and the dress was feeling stuffy all of a sudden. It felt like a ridiculous costume. The girl giggled a little when Hitomi approached her. She asked seriously if Hitomi worked in a maid cafe. Hitomi blushed a little. The girl was even cuter up close. Her dimples framed her wide smile, and her face shape was like a model’s. “Don’t you get wheelb
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