Chapter Text
It was loud outside.
The buzzing sound of one car colliding with another. Not because of steering wheels though; a red light made them stop, before waiting for it to become green – after a yellow. Interesting, wasn’t it? How such colors controlled the life of traffic.
Pedestrians filled the sidewalks around the intersection. It was observed that participants walked faster in areas without urban greenery and with more traffic, higher noise. It was supposed that listening to traffic noise increased walking speed while listening to nature sounds decreased walking speed.
Kirari regarded them from the opaque glass before her. Gentle classical music accompanied her in the serenity inside the chaos she wasn't making this time.
Vehicles began moving forward as she was, or rather, as hers bringing her was. Their dark glass reflected orange rays that envelop them, indicating the reason why those commoners were flooding outside: it was after-hours.
One with wealth like her certainly would prefer to fly from a company building to a hotel which was about half the length of the marathon track. Especially with the comprehension of how chock a block, this city’s traffic was. However, like the curious woman she was, Kirari ended up on the way amid the roaring of cars rather than the chopping noise of a helicopter. It wasn’t often she could be entertained by the atmosphere of a foreign city’s road, after all.
It would take approximately an hour before she could enjoy an evening tea the hotel provided. Usually, she couldn’t stand the idea of waiting for so long, but she wasn’t exactly waiting for anything at the moment. The taste of the tea wasn’t even half as good as her secretary’s. Although that wasn’t the major reason why currently she was longing for her very presence.
Sayaka
Kirari let herself formed a smile at the thought of her secretary. Her diligent, adorable secretary. Oh, how she wished she could cradle those soft cheeks inside her palms right now and watched them flushed in instant.
Platinum strands squeezed as Kirari leaned her head against the thick glass. Pleasant feelings made by the image of the younger girl replaced the previous irritation – a souvenir from the family business meeting she had just attended. Buffoons disguised as officials surrounded her with their oh, so familiar fake faces. Hypocrisy at its finest. It made her stomach churned.
And so, she pulled out her phone, went to the gallery, and selected a certain folder. In which, a face she adored very much filled it with many expressions that were so genuine, so real. In stark contrast to the wrinkled faces, she encountered earlier.
Such a cute girl...
Kirari always thought Sayaka looked best when she cried. She still did. Or when she did this cute sulky pout with a little whine escaping her throat, which was the exact reason why Kirari keep doing silly pranks at her.
What she liked the most about these pictures she took in secret though was the fact that she was the one who made those expressions. Her secretary always had this calm, professional aura. But when Kirari involved, her professionalism was thrown out the window in instant.
Only Sayaka could give her such reactions. Usually, others would do their best in concealing their feelings around her in fear for their own good. But never with Sayaka. And, God, did she love that?
Oh, how Kirari disliked the fact that she couldn’t bring her into trips like this. Surely it wouldn't be as unpleasant as it was.
Now that she thought about it, what if she brought Sayaka with her? What would she do if she sat in this car with her?
Kirari glanced at the empty space beside her.
Would she observe the urban scenery from the window? Would she look down at her fidgety hands as her mind loaded with thoughts Kirari could never comprehend? Or... would she doze off from the soft sound of classical music with her head slowly rested on her shoulder? Then, Kirari would put her own head on top of the other’s. And maybe she could place her arm around her waist, sensing the smaller girl snuggled closer towards her.
She didn’t know which was most likely to happen – Sayaka never failed to surprise her – but she did know, her secretary would feel best inside her arms.
Before she knew it, her very own thumb already pressed the call button of the younger girl’s contact – not without a purple heart accompanied her name.
Kirari sighed at her doing.
Perhaps I miss you more than I thought . . .
“Good evening, President!”
Evening?
Kirari glanced at the scene in front of her. At the sun hovering above crowded road, at tall buildings surrounding it, and at the clamorous cars moving towards it. It was kind of intriguing, how it seemed like they were moving closer towards the sun when the truth was, they only circling a round object called earth who was circling as well.
People were going home and the day was getting darker, sure. Not dark enough, though. The sun was still far to even touch the horizon line. She wouldn’t call it an evening.
Apparently not only distance has separated us, but time too, hm?
“Sayaka,” replied Kirari, acknowledgment was in the way she said her name.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” asked the other with eagerness.
Always, always so willing to please me. But why?
Kirari kept the phone close to her cheek, not bothered to switch on the speaker mode. “What time is it where you are now?”
She looked away from the outside world, looking at her nails instead.
“It is...” a faint fumbling noise could be heard from the other side. “It is ten past eleven, here.”
The older girl noticed Sayaka must look at her clock before saying, though she wouldn’t be surprised if her secretary knew the time without seeing it.
Thus, if I call you later at midnight, I will receive your first ‘ good morning ’ right after you wake up, won’t I? When you are still in between candid sheets of your bed. When your voice is still cracked with sleepiness.
She let the thought captivated her mind.
I much prefer to hear it directly, still, that would do.
“May I ask why you want to know what time it is?”
Kirari only hummed at her.
Bright blue eyes took the orangeness of sun in again. Only now the President noticed the small mid-level layers of clouds surrounded it, slightly blocking the sunbeams. It was a magnificent sight, perhaps. Not the one she fond of though.
“Look at the sky, you.”
“A-alright.” The latter replied with uncertainty. Came another fumbling noise, followed by the sound of a curtain being moved.
“It appears that we are looking at different skies, hm?”
“...we are?”
Unsure, the way her secretary asked. It was to be expected though, Kirari never said to her where she was going. Because it didn’t matter. These places she went to; didn’t matter to her.
“We are.”
How did Sayaka look in her bedroom at night? Pajamas? Or sweats, perhaps? Knowing her secretary, she most likely wouldn’t wear a lace nightgown. But she could never be sure until she saw it herself.
She let a comfortable silence lingered between their distance. Giving an opportunity for the smaller girl to say or ask anything. And she eventually did.
“B-but there’s only one sky though, President! Only the views are different in places! Doesn't it mean we are still looking at the same sky...?”
“Oh my,” Kirari chuckled. “Does it, now?”
Among many statements you could say, you choose to ask the last thing that comes to my mind. As you always have done.
“Can you look at the moon, Sayaka?”
The word ‘moon’ and her name felt just right when they came out of her lips.
“I can, President. It is a full moon tonight.”
It too felt right to come with the latter’s soft voice, but Kirari wished it was another similar sounded word instead.
“I see. How does it look?”
The phone felt cold on her cheek, and Kirari wished it was a warm hand smaller than hers instead.
She paused, Sayaka, before answered with a small voice. “The moon looks so beautiful, President.”
The words were different, yes, but Kirari didn’t wish it any other way. For how her voice sounded like home.
Kirari leaned her head against the car window and closed her eyes. “I see,” she said with a smile gracing her lips.
Warmth filled her supposedly empty, cold heart. And she wondered, how would Sayaka look bathed in the moonlight?
Would her violet hair glisten under it? Would her eyes reflect the light, or absorb it instead? Exterminate it into the darkness in them.
Kirari always loved those eyes.
Because light was temporary but dark was forever.
And I see forever in your eyes.
The sun was getting lower, the sky was getting darker, and the road was getting fuller.
It was loud outside.
And Kirari couldn’t wait to go home.