Memories of Fated

Chapter 2 - Confrontation

Summary

Kyoto and Ito Tsubaki reach school, where another member of their year confronts Ito about her family relations.

POV: Ito Tsubaki

Snatching a glance upwards, I observe the class, who have fallen into a lull of chatter. Whatever I say will be heard. Her glance remains as blank, waiting for my answer.

"Saki, don't be rude." When Kyoto says her name, I glance back towards her, brushing my hair back behind my ear. It's hard not to think of the third copy of Fated I have under my Bento box when our gazes meet. So this is the girl who has been messaging me for these past weeks. Despite having envisioned meeting her, this wouldn't have been a scenario I came up with.

I shake my head, "It's fine." I lean my elbow against my chair to get a better look at her. She's small, maybe a few inches shorter than me if we stood side by side and I'm not particularly gifted in the height department either. But she's not small just in the height department, all of her is just what I can only describe as delicate.

Her hands are small, fingernails pretty little ovals as she laces them together. She looks down further, her dark bob curving into her button-like features. Saki's a doll in every sense of the word; pretty but rather function less. What she might want a copy of Fated for, I don't understand.

Maybe her life is much less like her appearance.

"Sakamoto Kiyoshi is my uncle, yes," I tell her, reaching for my phone on the desk and pocketing it back inside my blazer. "How is that any of your business?"

"Ito..." Kyoto trails off, gaze fluttering between the two of us. Saki stiffens but a smile quickly spreads over the sharp edges of her lips.

"It's fine. It was rude of me." She bows, perhaps too deeply for the type of apology she offers. I try to copy her smile, but it comes off as a shallow imitation. "I was only meaning to congratulate your Uncle on the game release. It is being released today, isn't it?" She asks as she straightens.

"Yes, it is. I'll make sure to pass it on to him when I see him next."

"Thank you." She says. I watch her fiddle with the ends of her jumper again, struggling for something to say. Both Kyoto and I look at each other for support and I can see from the shining of his eyes that he's holding back something. Smiling, I offer the chance up to him, knowing that I have nothing better to say to her.

"Saki, you had better hurry along," Kyoto stands up to move his chair back the desk it belongs to. I watch as he walks past his desk on my right and up to the back door of the classroom. "You'll be late for the start of classes." He offers a slight upturn of his lips, a smirk in Kyoto's book.

Startled, she moves to rush between the desks, but her foot gets caught on the edge of mine. The whole surface moves, knocking my pencil case off the side and the metal frame hitting my thigh. I gasp at the impact. My hand reaches to move the pressure off my skin, shifting the frame away and cupping where a bruise throbs under my skin.

As I drag the desk away from me, I pull along Saki's foot. So although at first, she managed to catch herself on the desk next to her, she topples over again. The thump of her hitting the floor echoes.

"Oh my god, are you two okay?" Kyoto calls out, heading towards the disaster site, along with several other students. I blink, realising my actions. Quickly, I look to clean up my mess, reaching down to help up Saki. Her face winces, her button features becoming even smaller when the stitching scrunches.

Saki hides her pain well as she stands, half on her own, half with the hands who reach out to help her. She quickly withdraws from the touch and in my hand, leaves a white folded square. She meets my gaze, eyes cold. I close my hand around the paper, pocketing it before I ask, "Are you al-"

"I'm sorry." She stutters and rushes out before any of the class can get another word in. Lucky enough too, because the bell squeals through the haze of the students. Everyone returns to their seats as though about to be struck lightening. I straighten my desk as the teacher walks in, setting down her notes with a tap, a much-amplified sound within the now silent classroom.

As we stand, I attempt to hide my wince. When I straighten from the class bow, I find my pencil case once again on my desk. Kyoto's sleeve hitches upwards, exposing a criss-cross of scars along his skin. I follow back on his smile, reminding myself not to get caught up on the pain. It could be worse.

"Are you okay?" He mouths as the teacher rubs the message of the board.

"I would be if I weren't in this class." I angle my head towards the teacher's back as she begins to write down equations. Kyo and I snatch one more silent laugh before the class begins for real and each student starts to take notes as though their futures depend on it.

But today at least, Fated holds my future in its two hands.

***********

I circle my pen around and around in my notebook, creating a pattern that is as never-ending and dark as this lesson. I gave up listening long ago, just letting the teacher's voice wash over me, but not pausing to absorb what she is saying.

Maths is usually a subject that I love; to be able to find the answer to any problem appeals to me, reminds me that everything in this world can be understood if you look at it enough times.

I complete the practice questions easily enough but drone out each explanation on how to do them. Maybe it's just that I'm natural at it, but I've never needed to be told how to do maths problems. As long as I understand the basics behind something, I can understand it relatively okay.

Finally, the Teacher calls for the finishing bow and I jolt myself awake long enough to follow everyone in the movement. As the teacher leaves, I stretch my arms out in front of me.

"So, who's ready to cough up the drinks this time," I say to Kyoto, tapping on his desk with my fingernail.

He smiles up to me from his notes, not letting go on his pen, his fingers whiting around the grip. "Yeah, one sec,"

I lean on the edge of the desk, looking down on his work. "You okay?"

He moves to nod, then freezes halfway. He looks up at me, running his hand through his hair, which hitches up his sleeve again. The scars are like ridges of a maze. "Kind of."

He taps his pencil against one of the questions, "I don't quite understand this one."

I lean in to examine the collection of numbers, arranging the solution in my head, though I can't quite get the pieces together. Grabbing my half-open notebook from my desk, I search for the exact question before turning the notes towards Kyoto.

"It should be like this."

He squints at my notes for a few seconds, hand cupped over his forehead. He looks up at me, eyebrows raised. "Your notes are awful."

"They are not!" I fold my arms, but as he looks at me pleadingly, I sigh, "what bit don't you understand?"

With his pencil, he draws a circle in the air over the question, "All of it."

"That's so specific."

"Ito-sensei, please."

"Fine," I gesture for his pencil, which he hands over silently. Opening the back page of my notebook,

I scribble down the question again. "See the fact that these x's are the same?"

Looking up, I make sure he nods before continuing. "That means that you can just forget they exist."

"Than why are they there in the first place?"

"How the heck should I know?" I shrug, moving a strand of my brown hair that has come free from my scalp away from the paper. "Just know that you don't need to worry about them."

I cross out the two pairs of x's before he can protest. "Right, so now you have 4y is equal to plus 2." I write the equation down and tap on it with the end of the pencil. "Hopefully, you should know how to do this bit. We did loads of them last week."

He smirks, dimples dipping into his cheeks, "You overestimate my maths ability." When I offer him a pencil, he takes it but he is more focused on continuing the joke that it lies neglected on the desk.

"What, twelve divided by four?" I scoff, walking from the front to the side of the desk to lean my elbow on his shoulder to look over at my notes. When I turn back to him, out faces are close enough that I can make out Kyoto's pupil from the dark shade of his iris. Mirroring his smirk, I say, "I don't believe you for a second."

"I can't believe that you don't trust my words, Ito. After all, aren't I trustworthy?"

Stepping away, I wack him lightly with the back of my hand, "I might trust you more if you withheld your promises."

He swats my hand away with a smile, "And which one is that? We have quite a lot of promises."

"We made it this morning," I walk past the back of Kyoto's seat, back around to my own, sitting down and crossing one leg over another. "I'll give you a chance to remember."

"Oh right, drinks." He stands up, his chair scraping over the floor. "Which one do you want?"

I smile, resting my hand on my chin, "I don't know, surprise me."

He rolls his eyes as he lifts his bag from the hook it rests on. "That's so specific," he says in intimidation of what I said earlier. He flashes the bronze of the coins at me as he walks past my desk on the way to the door. "I'll be back."

I nod. Quickly, I glance around the classroom, but most people have diverted into groups of their own, clustering and smiling in their groups. No one pays me any attention. My fingers reach for the folded piece of paper I've stowed underneath my desk, my fingertips smoothing out the creases to I can read what is scrawled there in short, neat characters.

I read it once. Twice. The third time, I can't bear to look at the words. My hands form a fist, scrunching the paper into my palm. Scraping back my chair, I quickly stand, weaving between desks and students to the corridor where I start a brisk walk to the staircase. My bag is a weight on my arm.

'Meet me at the top of the left staircase at the break. Let's complete the exchange then.'

My indoor shoes squeal across the stairs. Sunlight filters through the window, offering a warm atmosphere to the two walls that encompass the staircase. It's unlike the chatter in the classroom, fast-paced, always moving and breaking up into jagged choruses of laughter. Here, the only thing that interrupts the peace is my hurried steps.

In another circumstance, maybe I would savour the moment. But this is more important than taking a moment to admire the swirling of leaves from an unfelt wind across the school courtyard. I have to ensure that Saki leaves Kyoto alone.

My lungs tighten as I reach the apex of the steps. There's a couple of scattered wrappers, a door covered in yellow warning tape to the roof, but no Saki. My hand tightens on the strap of my bag so hard I feel the pulse of my heart in my palm. Where is she?

My foot taps on the edge of the top step as though it can draw out an exact timeline of events. The thought that it was all a trick or a distraction easily surfaces in my mind. A sigh escapes from me. Reaching for my phone in my pocket, I check the time. Kyoto will be returning from getting the drinks soon and I don't want to have to explain my communication with Saki if I don't have to.

It's bad to keep secrets, but if I hold it tight enough to my chest, he doesn't even need to know.

I turn sharply to descend back down the stairs, keeping my phone in my hand and scrolling until I find Saki's contact. By the time I've reached the step that leads onto the landing, I've composed the message. My thumb hovers over the send button. I press it.

Re-pocketing the phone, I snatch a glance of brown and dark hair, one tossed and the other combed into a neat bob. The two figures stand between the vending machines. The girl seems to be saying something while running her thumb over the pads of her fingers; a sheet of her hair covers her face as she looks downwards. It's not enough to hide the fact her cheeks are a deep red.

It's a confession, I realise quickly. My lips curve into a smile, and although I shouldn't, I continue to watch the pair as they continue to stumble over each other.

The boy puts a hand on her shoulder, tilting his head. A laugh bursts from her, tossing her hair back to reveal her face. Heart-shaped face, thin lips, Saki. I lean in closer to the pane of glass, trying to work out who the boy next to her is.

It hits me like a blow to the stomach.

Kyoto. With his dark brown hair, dimples and long sleeves tattered from being pulled to shreds. Kyoto, with two drinks in his hands. His and mine. Mine and his. I take a deep inhale and try to sew this new event into the timeline of my life. This is how it's going to be from now on. Saki and Kyoto. Kyoto and Saki.

I know it shouldn't change our friendship. But I thought we were better, we are - were - worth more than that. I think of the copy of Fated within my bag. I want to smash the disk into fragments and then pour the remaining pieces into her hands and tell her to fix what she has broken.

The only thing that keeps my hand limp by my side is the work my uncle has poured into that disk. How many hours we both spent, he at his desk shadowed within the slight of his monitor and me underneath tangles with the wires, in anticipation for this release. Saki doesn't get to take that away from me.

And I guess I shouldn't get to take that away from her either.

I take out the case, the castle of game code painted in all its glory onto the cover. As I turn from the couple and again ascend the steps, I trace my fingers across each of its one hundred floors. Now, at least, I will have it to keep me company. I tuck it behind a couple of wrappers on the floor, just next to the alcove's wall. I text Saki that I've placed the copy there and then delete her contact information.

I have kept my end of the bargain. It is time she kept hers.

***********

When I make it back to the classroom, Kyoto still hasn't returned. I swallow the thoughts down and quickly hurry back to my seat, placing my bag down in the same position as it was. My hands reach for the pencils scattered across my desk and one by one, I place them back inside my pencil case.

When I am halfway through the procedure, Kyoto slides the door to the classroom open with one hand, the two cans balanced in the crook of his elbow. Peaking through his hair, the tips of his ears are red from the breeze outside.

I look down before I hope he notices me looking up. He places mine on the desk but I barely notice the sound of the metal against wood.

"Are you alright?" I don't need to look at him to know he's tilting his head at the same angle he did when he was with Saki. Reaching for the can, I tilt the label upwards so I can read it. Soy milk, chocolate flavoured.

Normally, I could praise him for a good choice but I can't seem to make my lips shape the words. I lift the ring to it pierces the metal, hoping that once I have something good in my stomach, I might be able to speak normally.

I smile, though the edges feel forced. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know. I was hoping you could tell me." His hands tighten around his can. I know what it is even without seeing the label.

"I'm fine, honestly." I cross my leg over the other and lean my elbow on the edge of my chair. Kyoto, despite not looking convinced, takes his seat. He opens his can and the smell of his coffee is familiar, calming. I try not to let myself get wrapped up in it.

"Kyoto, just because I feel down, doesn't mean I'm not going to feel up again."

"I know, it's just th-"

"I know." I say softly, "I know."

************

Kyoto tells me over lunch that Saki asked to walk home with us. It takes me all my effort not to stab my chopsticks into the remainder of my food and smile. I tell him that it's alright. I continue to lie, even though the deceit should now be over.

Throughout the rest of the day, my stomach seems to be an endless pit of nerves. My fingers tap absentmindedly over the surface of my desk. Several times, I see Kyo glance at me, open his mouth to say something but then close it.

Every time my mind strays to the events of the break, I push them aside with the hope of Fated release. I remember the events of the beta test and the rush of excitement that came with being surrounded by something so real, so fantastical that it was hard to realise what was happening.

Today, we are going to make history.

The phrase circles with my head as we bow to the last teacher of the day and tug our chairs in. Luckily, Kyoto and I are not on the cleaning rota so we head straight for the lockers to replace our shoes. Saki stands just outside the stacks, within the shadow of the doorway.

Her thin lips smile warmly, her dark eyes scrunching up. Saki holds her bag in front of her, lifting one hand from it to wave her hand in greeting towards the two of us.

"Kyoto-Kun, Ito-san," she says warmly though her voice has a current of undertone as she says mine. "Thank you for letting me walk with you."

Kyoto shakes his head, "it's fine, really. We head the same way anyway so it's no problem at all."

I nod along with the conversation as we start to walk outside of the school gates. Though at this time of year, I would adopt a brisk pace, because there are three of us squashed onto one pavement, we are forced to walk at a slower pace, letting the wind catch on the edges of our blazer and our bare cheeks.

I keep my hands firmly in my pockets in an attempt to drown out the cold. It gives me a posture as if I am sulking, and quite honestly, with the way the conversation is going, I might be.

"So, Ito-san," Saki tries to keep the conversation alive. "Are you looking forward to finally seeing Fated?"

"But she's seen it before," Kyo says before I can open my mouth. "Family connections and all that got her into the beta test."

He tries to elbow me in the side, but I quickly dodge by speeding up my pace slightly. "As though I didn't try to convince them to let you in too." I can't help but snap back. "Besides, I got tossed out of there before I could get to see the game."

"You got tossed out?" Saki asks, an annoyingly innocent tone entering her voice.

I laugh awkwardly, even though there is no reason for me too. "Yeah, I might not have been adding very much um," I roll my hand in the air as I look for the word.

"Constructive?" Kyoto supplies.

I click my fingers in thanks. "Constructive criticism. I was more focused on finding the loopholes than actually playing properly."

Saki smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. "I see."

The conversation wilts with no one to maintain it and we remain silent until the road splits into two pathways. Saki down one, Kyoto and I down the other.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Saki pauses as we reach the mouth of the path. "Thank you for walking me home," she says again before turning and walking.

We don't wait for her figure to disappear before we start to follow our street. A familiar wall curves the side, overgrown with ivy and flowers now dropping off their sides due to the changing season.

I step over a few as we pass, Kyoto and I maintaining the silence from before.

"Kyoto," I start, looking up at him past my shoulder, "where do you want to meet, you know when we log on?"

Kyoto gives me a sideways look as though he can't be bothered to exert the energy to even look at my stupidity. "You're the one who's been in there. You decide." He points out.

I try and cast my mind back to when I entered beta testing, as well as what my uncle has let slip. "There's this square."

He raises an eyebrow. "I've heard there are several squares."

I make a zipping motion with my hand. "Give me a minute and maybe I'll remember the name."

"Ito, you need to get a better memory." Kyoto shakes his head.

"Excuse me, I have a fantastic memory. It just takes a couple of minutes to work."

There's a pause as I think again. The longer I try to remember, the more I doubt there was even a name to the square in the first place.

"Damn it, I don't remember what it's called." I sigh. "But it has a bench, a fountain and a couple of shops and should be just outside the main spawn area."

Kyoto nods towards me, before turning his gaze ahead. His street is now in view. "How do I know it's you though?"

"You'll know it's me from my amazing face."

"Don't tell me you're thinking of using your real-world appearance?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm not that dumb. We'll just have to come up with a system or something."

The two of us stand at the beginning of Kyoto's street, hands now both in our pockets. The wind blows between us as we consider.

"How about an X?" Kyoto asks, crossing the sides of his hands together in a demonstration. I smile, thinking how ridiculous we will both look standing like that.

I snort. "Well, X marks the spot and all that."

"Perfect." It's a wild smile, one that catches me off guard. It's been a long time since I've seen a smile so wild, so free. I can't help but return one.

"See you in half an hour," I raise my hand as I continue on my walk. "Don't you dare be late!"

************

The house, an admittedly small building build on top of a slight mound that requires steps up to the dark brick, is empty as I turn the lock to the door. It's not overly surprising.

I stash my keys on the table in the hallway and remove my shoes. Dumping my bag at the door to move later, I climb up the stairs as quick as I can, almost bursting into my bedroom to finally see it again.

It's just as I left it.

I lift the nerve gear out of the box, not taking the time I did to examine it this morning. All-day, I've been waiting and anticipating this moment. My fingers tighten over the plastic covering.

I've already set up the wiring system, connecting the nerve gear to my computer, and now all there is left is to add the disk and say the words.

The slot rolls out and I carefully lift the disk into place, nudging it closed. I scoot over to my bed, lifting the tangle of wires over as I swing around and lie there.

I stare at the ceiling for a few seconds, feeling the excitement build in my chest. When I don't think I can hold the feeling any longer, I take a deep breath and once again put the nerve gear over my head.

I close my eyes; I don't want to see reality disappear from under me as though I am unwilling. I want to embrace virtual reality with open arms.

"Link start!"

************