I

Yuri spent her time locked away, disturbed after her encounter with Yukio.
  It had been a week since her encounter with him on the bench, and she had taken measures to ensure that she was well hidden away. She shut the curtains on the windows in the kitchen, taping them to the wall as to keep any light from getting in. To stop someone from peeping in. She kept a heavy chair rammed up to the door, so if Yukio did try to break in, he would struggle. Her thoughts had drifted to calling the police, but in reality, she was concerned that they would not take her seriously enough. That, or they would flag her up as a missing persons from all those years ago. The police were smart like that. Either scenario was not appealing, but neither was sharing an apartment block with some unhinged weirdo. ‘I’ve never known any other woman except my mother! It’s true!’ What an odd thing to say. This city was rather ill, to Yuri’s mind.
  In all this confusion, all this anger, frustration and unpleasantness, she slipped back into her introverted and nihilistic view of the outside world. Once again, out of her control the world was conspiring to ruin her, as it had done since she was little. How much longer would it go on?
  In reality, she yearned to be a normal individual, one who could talk about their normal and mundane life, but she simply did not have the blessing to do so. Every time she thought about engaging the world again, something would pop into her mind, some uncertain risk that she could not be sure would manifest as a reality.
  She sought sanctuary in Auntie Suzi again.
  She delved into that personality again.
  Her couple days, indulging herself as Yuri, had left her with a back catalogue of desperate advice-seekers on her blog. She spent the better part of the month replying to them all.
  In total, there were nearing 1000 messages when she started.
  By the time she had got through the majority, she was already feeling better.
  The ability to switch personalities, to be another person, even if they still inhabited the same body as their former self, was exhilarating. To become Auntie Suzi, while sating Yuri’s need to help and support people, gave such a real release to the pressure of the mind. Behind her shut bedroom door, the world could not see her, judge her, nor touch her, lust after her. She was no longer a victim of the world’s uncaring circumstance.
  She did wonder if anyone lusted after Auntie Suzi, but she made sure that she came across as neutral as possible. There was no way that anyone would find such a woman attractive, surely?
  Still, the therapy of helping others remained. It would be nearly two months until she finally decided to try to leave the house again.
  In her paranoid mind, she had neglected to order food properly, and her ramen reserves were low, as were her tea reserves. Looking about the apartment again, she realised how messy everything had got again. Ramen pots were stacked in towers on the counter, and the single tea cup she used had gone from a pure white to a greenish brown. A thick and permanent layer of tea scum lined the brim where she filled her tea to. Still, the fear that Yukio would intercept her at her door was too great. She could never judge if the guy was truly insane, or whether he, like her, was so sheltered and introvert, that he just did not know how to function in society.
  Indeed, she had thought this similarly in the months since that event on the bench.
  Had she misjudged him? In moments of weakness she felt like she had done the wrong, that she had not treated the situation well. Was she right to hit him?
  Yes.
  As the months went on, her answer drew closer and closer as her paranoia mounted. He was unpredictable, that Yukio. She could only assume he had developed a Freudian interest in his mother, and that he was needy, the sort of guy that would need a mother, not a girlfriend. Nothing could save him. The God from the machine deemed it so.
  Yes, she was back in control.
  Yukio could crawl back to his mother’s breast, heartbroken and devastated.
  She did not care, nor should she.
  She felt a fool for even feeling bad for the guy.
  She sank into another bought of answering the needy advice seekers online.

She ate her last pot of ramen.
  She slurped the noodles down, savouring the beef broth as she placed the noodle cup down onto the desk. She took in a deep breath. She decided there and then that she should go out and get some noodles. It was the only way she could be sure not to be sabotaged. She had hoped that her punch had been enough to deter the little twerp. He hopefully would not dare to approach her if they happened to pass by each other.
  Still, there was a risk he was psychotic, so she took careful consideration into everything she did.
  She looked up the nearest 24/7 super market. It was a place a little way down the road, 30 minutes or so away. Confident in herself, she decided to leave at just around 10pm, as the night crept in and the streets became jewelled with the lights from the street lamps and buildings around.
  With careful operation, she slipped herself nearly ¥100,000, to buy up some goods. She was not really sure how much she would need, but the roundness of the ¥100,000 felt like a good guess.
  Stuffing the notes into the zip up pockets on her jogging bottoms, she threw on a hoodie, a loose fitting top underneath. Not stylish at all, but functional for her short trip out.
  Taking a deep breath, she pulled the chair away from the door, quietly as possible, looking up to the floors above, hoping that no one could hear her slip away. Grabbing the apartment key from the kitchen counter, she carefully unlocked the door and slipped out. As she gently shut the door, the lock clicked violently back into place. The sound was loud, and stirred a great fear in Yuri. She looked about her, fearing that the presence of Yukio would form down the end of the corridor, begin bounding towards her.
  Nothing happened.
  The warm summer night’s air hit her with a humidity, which was pleasantly calming, almost disarming.
  No.
  She needed to be alert, if not until she got onto the streets. She was still near Yukio. Nothing was stopping him from appearing out of the dark. She considered what he had said, about watching her from the window. She made sure to keep to the bushes that lined the gates, keeping nearer the dark side of the path that lead up to the night watch office. There was no night’s watchmen in this building, but it was used as an in-between from the main apartment to the outside, a feeble approach at keeping out anyone not part of the complexes. It was some of the people in the complexes that needed keeping out.
  Quickly making her way to the gate, avoiding the large pools of light that lined the pathway to it, she keyed in the code in the electronic padlock. It had been written on the faux-leather tag attached to her apartment keys. Just before she shut the electronic gate, she looked up to the black windows, hollow eyes in the long face of someone grey and dead. Not a single light was on, nor a single lamp or hint of light glistened from the windows. It was dead. Yuri for horrible moment thought she saw someone in the darkness, or at least could feel someone was there. She scanned the windows, then down into the apartment’s gardens. Nothing stirred, simply the rustling of the trees and their full heads of leaves.

Yuri wandered the giant streets, almost alone.
  This area of Tokyo, the more residential part, was indeed a good choice for those who wanted peace and quiet.
  Not even a car sailed past, nor a taxi ferrying around drunks late-night to parties. It was totally dead. The veins of the cities ceased a pulse. Many of the buildings too were blacked out, save for the beams of flood lights and streetlamps. All the windows were black and soulless, the life switched off in them. The city, in this part, felt truly dead.
  As she approached the shopping district, she became aware of a few people.
  They were young, about her age, and they ran through the streets, some shouting and cheering, others simply with their heads down, a wire from their headphones dangling amongst their clothes. She presumed most of them must have been students, making a late night shopping trip for supplies during their studies.
  How she had missed out on a world like that.
  It made her sad as she took a left into the arcade tunnel. The shops that lined it were wholly independent. They were family named stores, or shops that were convenience stores for larger chains. She wandered down the long throat of the shopping district, looking about her in awed amazement. The arcade was lined with bright streams of fairy lights, intertwining above the metal support ruts that held up the roof. Neon buzzed at her from every angle. People buzzed louder.
  Groups of people her age shifted in heaving crowds from shop to shop, their loud greetings and pleasantries echoing through the streets. Yuri suddenly felt uneasy, almost exposed, in this new and unfamiliar setting. The last time she had been in a place so open was leaving the station in Tokyo. Ever since then, she had shut herself off, obsessively containing herself in her own little controlled world.
  Here, out in the open, there was no real control. Just uncontained joy.
  It was, infectious.
  Yuri smiled to herself. Her anxiety lifting.
  Making her way through the arcade, the throngs of people splitting off in a V shape as she made her way against their current, she reached the 24/7 shop.
The store looked dull and grey, but it offered food. Stepping onto the floor, she found it slippery.
  Just over the counter, she could see a figure, hunched over, mopping the floor, mashing the mop head sloppily against the floor tiling. It was obvious the individual mopping did not really care about safety or cleanliness. They had probably been there for a long time, and the night time customers were probably the worst. Still, she aimed to be polite. Leaning against the counter, she called over for the man’s attention.
  “Hi! I was wondering where your ramen pots were? And your tea?”
  The figure stopped mopping, leaning against the mop. It seemed to tremble.
  Yuri leant back slightly.
  The figure raised a hand, pointing down to the end of the store.
  “Down there.” It replied quietly, as if to disguise their voice.
  She looked to the end of the store. There was a beaded curtain with an ‘Employees Only’ sign above it. She thought how weird the person was acting. But, the natural drive for food got the better of her. Not really knowing the area well, she decided to slowly make her way down to the end of the store, keeping her wits about her. Picking up a basket that sat near the door, she called back over to the figure, who was still leaning on their mop.
  “Thank you.” Yuri replied as she made her way down the end of the store.
  The wet slap of the mop hitting the floor continued.
  Quickly, she darted down the closest aisle, brushing past the fridges full of animal parts and slabs of meat, frozen dumplings and squids and octopi. It all looked fairly fresh. Spying the corner, she took a careful turn, making sure not to slip over. She also became increasingly aware of the presence at the other end of the shop. It felt as if it was avoiding her. She made her way down the next aisle, the ramen stocked up high. Raking in off the shelf a varied amount of flavours and pots, she placed them in her deep basket. Taking about 20 for herself, she then decided to look for the tea. To her luck, they were just opposite, in the third aisle.
  She approached the shelves of tea, and as she did, she realised that the wet slapping of the mop had stopped. Darting a look to her right, she tried to see if the figure was still there.
  It was. At the top of the third aisle.
  As quickly as she had caught a look, it seemed to sense her looking at her, and in a quick moment, whipped the bucket around, slipping behind the column between the third and second aisle. A wet slapping sound panned in from behind her, frantic and desperate. She looked forward again, grabbing a few more packets of tea leaves from the shelf.
  This place was giving her the creeps now.
  No, not this place.
  The figure.
  Was she cursed to encounter weirdos and creeps her whole life?
  She needed to be back in her apartment. Back in control.
  But, she still needed to pay for the food, and she could not leave it behind. She swallowed hard, then called out.
  “I’m ready to pay.”
  She was surprised that her voice was so confident.
  She heard the wet slapping stop, then the squeak of shoes as the figure made their way to the till.
  She took in a deep breath, and with a burst of faux confidence, smiled and walked up the aisle.
  The figure did not look over to her. In fact, they did not really look anywhere. They stared at the bars on the window, but not out the window. It simply increased the creepiness in the whole situation. Her confidence waning, she simply slammed the basket down on the counter and stepped back, the figure quickly ducking under the desk, rustling plastic bags.
  The man stood up again.
  Yuri gasped.
  It was Yukio.
  He looked at her a moment, a sad recognition on his face. Yuri just shook her head, mouthing ‘No’. In a split second she made a decision to run back to the apartment.
  Bolting from the door of the shop, she did not even hear the cry of Yukio, begging her to stop.
  She would not listen.
  Frantically running away, she bolted down a side street, barging through crowds of people, all glaring or scowling in confusion as the blur of Yuri zipped past them. Her vision warped, the neon bending around her, enveloping her in a bubble. She realised she had no idea where she was going, she was just glad to put the distance between her and Yukio.
  The creep had a job. How long for?
  Suddenly, reality, and the world crashed around her.
  The lamppost left her winded. Falling backwards, a stunned crowd gasped as Yuri crashed into some rubbish bags left out on the street. Gasping for breath, she looked about her, her eyes darting like a hunted deer.
  A feminine voice called out.
  “Are you ok?”
  Yuri honed in on the direction.
  A woman, about her age, stepped forward from the crowed, wrapped up in a stylish hoodie approached her, concern in her eyes. “Are you hurt?” She said.
  Yuri, for some moments, simply stared at the woman approaching her, and the woman did the same to Yuri. A moment of familiarity passed between the two. Yuri’s frantic vision stopped blurring, became whole again. She stumbled for a reply.
  “The guy running the shop back there, he…”
  She stopped herself.
  She felt delirious.
  That face. The face of the woman in front of her.
  The woman bent down to meet her gaze, offering a hand to help her up. The crowd that had formed moved off, bored of the pleasantries and utter bewilderment of the Yuri’s collision with the pole. As she did, the features began to form in her mind, calling back from something in her past. The woman looked upon the girl who smashed into the pole, with a sense of knowing. This woman that had smashed into the pole was someone she knew, from a past life. The round face. It was someone from so long ago, but with such a distinct plumpness to them.
  Yuri, looking to her helper, suddenly felt her heart race.
  This was someone she knew from before. A face she had not seen for years.
  An old friend.
  She uttered hoarsely, under her breath, between them and them alone.
  “Akiko?”    

Next Chapter: Part 4 - Bloom: II