A flash of light from the sun accented the moment perfectly.
Akira Kitsune drew his katana with lightning speed and held it low, reaching across his body. The tip threw its captured sunlight at their foe, who stubbornly stepped out of the shadows. "Hey there," this foe spoke, his stance was completely open, arrogant; he was either very skilled or was trying very hard to seem so. Akira's eyes wouldn't move from his direction, he was intent on discovering a flaw in his form, but that moment never came. Mere feet away, the mystery man spoke, "Akira Kitsune, retainer of the Chisan Shogunate. I've heard you're good." In the same moment he fell silent, the unfamiliar person's sword was already drawn. He held it high, and turning it upside down, he buried the very end into the moist soil at his feet.
Akira observed his unusual foe, "you must be a mercenary." Akira's opponent smiled brightly, his eyes catching the light radiating from Akira's blade. The man crouched low, his rear leg moving steadily behind him, katana in tow, "that's right, there's a pretty price on that head of yours. Who wouldn't pay top-dollar for the man reputed to have broken his vow of honor to Shogun Chisan and defeated an entire outpost of men within an hour." The crouching man licked his lips in anticipation. "I've been waiting for a good fight, can you believe I haven't faced a worthy adversary in over a month? I feel like I'm getting rusty." Akira appeared to be angered from the mercenary's words, "scum like you don't belong in his country. Only honorable men and women deserve to live in Japan, you're a poison to this sacred nation." The mercenary looked at his opponent with steely eyes, "you're one to talk. This country values its honor, and you threw yours away," a sick smile formed from the mercenary's lips, and he spoke in a quick and sinister tone, "Now let's stop talking and fight."
The mercenary lunged forward, leading with his rear leg. Akira reacted to the movement by stepping backwards and deflecting the incoming sword by driving its end into the sky, then kicked his opponent in the chest, knocking his back to the ground, his katana lay just out of his reach to the right. Akira pressed his foot into the mercenary's chest to keep him on the ground. "You're nothing but a novice, an amateur. You don't deserve to chase after my bounty." The mercenary's eyes began to fill with fear and he struggled furiously to reach his katana, but Akira kept his back pressed firmly to the ground. "G... gah! N, no. D, d, don't kill me."
Akira raised his sword up high, the tip pointing downward, "You're spirit's too weak to win this fight, you're nothing but a coward waiting to be erased," Akira muttered as he tightened his grip around his katana's hilt. "I am the anti-venom to this country's suffering," Akira plunged the blade downwards, and the mercenary's final words escaped into the wind, "N, no!!"
Everything fell silent...
Then the lights dimmed away, leaving the audience with the scene of Akira Kitsune crouched over the mercenary. A broad, velvet curtain cut the audience away from the scene they had just witnessed. At first, the crowd was enveloped in a shroud of silence, save for a few, select souls who had reveled in the display of passion. Their claps gave rise to a larger, second wave of applause, less enthusiastic as a whole than the first. Among the minority sat a girl in her early twenties. Soon after the second wave of applause had begun, she placed her elbows on her lap and rested her head on her upturned hands. She faced the stage with a contented smile on her face.
The applauding masses gradually fell towards silence, and the curtains rustled slightly before they retracted and revealed the entire cast of the play standing in line next to each other. Akira Kitsune, the mercenary, who had a prop sword sticking through the front of his costume, a humble-looking village girl, two boys who shared remarkable similarity to one another, and old man with a sickle tied to his back, and a border officer wearing a rounded, grass hat with a point at the top.
The young girl stood up and cheered for the cast, looking at the old man in particular, who sent a warm smile radiating in her direction. She smiled back to him and began looking for a way out of the jungle of dusty, red velvet chairs.
Once she reached the atrium, she took a seat on the opposite side of a specific stairwell, she knew she'd see her father shortly.
When the time came, she attempted to sort him out from the hundreds of attendees who were making their way to their luxurious, fuel-efficient cars. She recognized him by the round, pointed hat he was wearing. She just looked at him if full-costume and shook her head back and forth slowly, wearing a smile that was holding back a giggle that if released full-force would attract the attention of at least a family of three.
When she caught her next glimpse of him, after two rich-looking ladies passed in front of her, he had tipped the front of the hat over his eyes, as she'd seen from Akira Kurosowa's samurai characters. Her laugh broke through and she covered her mouth suddenly and thrust her face down, which didn't prevent any looks from the occasional passerby.
The pair, father and daughter, sat down on the floor of a dark room in the back of the theater. The coffee they held in classic theater-play mugs was both mediocrely-hot and slightly stale, "did you enjoy it," her father asked, waiting for her to reply before he drank. She held her mug close to her body with a hand on the bottom, "I did, you played a good dying old man." He set his coffee between his crossed legs and held his left hand to his chin, "I'd hope so, I Am getting on the rotting side."
"No you're not. You'll outlive everybody who came to see you tonight."
He took another sip of his coffee and held it in his hands, "I appreciate the optimism, honey. But I'm not immortal like Akira Kitsune."
"He's not immortal, he's just honorable, more so than the other characters," she took a sip of her coffee, "that's why he can't be beaten by all of those strong people." She looked at her father with an 'I bet you didn't know I understood that' look. He looked back at her with an joyous, interested expression, "How's life been? Have you met your Oedipus yet?"
Had she been sipping her coffee, she would have spit it all over her lap, instead, she looked up at him with a quick glance and looked him in the face silently. He looked back, making goofy facial expressions before he settled into an infectiously warm smile which made its way to his daughter, "Dad, you're too sarcastic for your own good. You're going to get yourself into trouble one of these days." She brushed the dark hair out of her face and sipped her coffee, holding the mug with both of her hands, never breaking eye contact with the silly old man in front of her.
He scoffed, trying to cover the smile on his face, "you're too strict on me. When will you just let me be myself for once?" He joked. His daughter just smiled and shook her head, ran her fingers over the side of her face, and let her head fall into the hammock formed by her hand.
"Didn't you say to me earlier you wanted to take me somewhere?" The old man questioned, knowing the answer already. "Oh, yeah," she said as she reached into her jacket pocket to look at her cell phone. "Shit, it's so late."
"Is that going to be a problem?"
"No, no. It isn't, I was supposed to call someone."
"A boy?"
"Kinda... not for that reason though."
"Is it a work thing?"
"No, it's not that either. Don't worry about it. It's not important."
She closed her phone and replaced it in her jacket pocket, "let's get going, you're going to love it," she said with a smile.
----
It was ten o' clock. The cars along third street ran alongside the sidewalk pedestrians with a pompous zeal, taking whatever opportunity they could to show their superiority before reaching their destination and joining the inferior masses on their nightly pilgrimages. Only a few drivers actually drove with courtesy towards the crowd they knew they would soon be joining. One of the former slowed down and took a right on a corner regardless of the cross-walkers who had already begun making their way across the busy street. He knew they were far enough away that he wouldn't hit any of them, they hadn't even made it to the street.
A familiar face was present in the half-down drivers-side window. Dan drove down the crowded avenue until he found a parking spot. He flashed his turn signal, put his car in reverse, and backed into the spot with all the grace of a humpback whale. When he shifted into park, after a couple bouts of tug-of-war between (D) and (R), he grabbed his computer bag and climbed out, locking the door from the sidewalk; traffic began moving again. Hooking a right and walking south, Dan pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and started scrolling through his missed calls. Someone had been trying to call him, but he refused to answer while he was driving, he didn't want to be an asshole.
The phone began dialing, and he jumped out of the way of a middle-aged lady he almost ran into the back of, his computer brushed her arm only slightly. She looked at him with an estranged and demeaning expression, and he waved with a smile and continued his faster-than-normal march to his weekend perch. As soon as he brought the phone up to his ear again, a female voice sounded off, "hello, Carla speaking," Dan smirked.
"Hey there, what's going on?" Dan waited for a reply, "Hi Damn, I mean Dan. My mistake."
"Carla? Are you having as wonderful as an evening as I am?" Dan smirked.
"I'm not relentlessly chasing down girls just out of high school if that's what you're asking," the phone whipped back.
"Touche, did you get a chance to run those quotes for me today?"
"I sure did, too bad you weren't around when we had to call them. Some got very upset, you would have enjoyed it."
"Please tell me you saved a couple for me on Monday." Dan said in a rather disappointed tone.
"Criminals don't get any justice in this town, I heard you got arrested."
"Only if you consider being puked on, kicked, and yelled at by a very large and scary man as being arrested." "He did all that to you? You should have gotten his number."
"How could I have been so inconsiderate? I completely forgot that you go for guys like that."
"Only on sick days, hun," the phone paused, "I saved you a couple of special cases. They're sure to be very upset customers."
"You know I live for this shit, Carla."
A silence formed between Dan and his phone; it filled up, bloated at the edges, and eventually burst from the pressure.
Dan spoke, "I've got it covered. If I'm not too hung over in the morning I might even call them then."
The phone chuckled. "Good luck, and see you on Monday." The phone fell silent. "God, I love 2011."
---
He could see it from down the street, "Burt's Cafe au Lait & Coffee Bar," a little coffee shop whose owner decided that since McDonald's decided to break into gourmet coffee, he should try it himself. The conversion hadn't gone quite as he planned, however. Claude, the owner of Burt's, never knew much about gourmet coffee and people stopped coming altogether. It wasn't until he hired Rita, a former Starbucks manager, that the coffee bar began attracting customers back. Dan was one of the newer customers, and while he knew he could get a better cup of coffee down the street, he came to this particular coffee bar every week.
Dan walked in through the front door and began to set up shop. Laptop computer, USB mouse, and wall charger in check, he walked up to the counter to order. "Hey Dan, what can I get for you?" A young girl asked of him. "I'll have a medium coffee, no sugar, no cream, and no room, please." The girl smiled, looking up at him from her downcast face, her fair skin was illuminated from the overhead lamps. "Will that be it?" Dan nodded and hummed an "Mmhmm" at her, "$2.04." She grabbed his coffee and he handed her the money. "Here's your change, happy camping." She threw him a quick smile and greeted the customer in line behind him.
Melissa was a friendly face to him. Dan used to frequent the bookstore Melissa used to work at long before she started working at Burt's. She was friendly to him then, and friendly to him now. They used to sit outside, bum cigarettes from each other, and tell each other stories of their past deeds. She was younger than him, by about seven years, but they had always shared a particular chemistry between one another which coincidentally led them into some deep conversations. When she started working at Burt's, Dan knew it was a sign, he didn't know what kind, but knew it was a sign.
By the time Dan got his coffee and sat back down, Windows had just finished loading, and it would soon ask for a password. He entered the same password he had been using since high school, looking at the keyboard all the while. He looked out the window and around the store before meeting Melissa with his line of sight. Her dark, braided hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned over the counter and her smile was simply stunning. She faced him and stared him down with a goofy smile for a few seconds before returning to her customer. Sheathing his smile, he returned to his computer and booted up his word processor. Opening his last saved file, he began scanning over his previous writing before starting a new line.
"When the current system is challenged, the people who strive for change are held accountable for anything that can be considered "damage," and they are punished." Dan paused for a moment to think, then began typing again. "At this point, the people can either stand up and demand a new system or create a new one of themselves. If the latter occurs, however, the new system must eventually stand up to the established system if change is to be obtained." Dan took a quick sip from his coffee and leaned his head against his left hand.
Just then, the chair in front of him was pulled out and was quickly filled with a someone, a female, "Hey dere." Dan tried to sound Canadian as best he could for that moment. He seemed to be rewarded for his efforts. Melissa had set a clear, disposable cup filled with lemonade in front of Dan. "This might help you. Hydration works wonders." Dan reached over and grasped the cup, taking a sip from the straw. "Not bad, it's a little on the cardboard-tasting side but I can manage." Melissa smiled brightly, rolling her eyes and audibly huffing, "Hey Dan, you want to go out for a cigarette?" Dan slipped the straw out from his lips."Nah, I'm not smoking anymore," he looked at her with an overly-serious expression, "smoking kills, children," he said in a television announcer-like voice. Melissa didn't laugh very much, but she replied without much of a delay. "At least come outside and talk with me if you won't smoke. Dan bowed his head for a second and replied, "sure thing. I'm just worried about my stuff."
Melissa shrugged, "the guys here will watch it, don't worry," she said, blinking rapidly as she spoke.
Outside, Dan checked the time on his phone. "How've you been? It's been a while since you've worked."
She blew out a puff of smoke. "Good," she said in a climbing tone, "semester's over now, so I'll be working here more for a few weeks. You should come by more, I miss seeing you."
Her up-front demeanor caught Dan off guard, "Good, cause I miss seeing you around. It's not the same place without you."
She threw her face downwards to conceal her smile, "I know, the guys here need me more than they know."
"I'll say. Everybody else gives me a sort of weird glance whenever I order just a coffee."
"You know that I, at least, understand your weirdness," she said self-assuredly, then burst out with a series of quick chuckles.
Dan smiled with her. He'd missed his friend, that wasn't a lie. It was also true that some of the workers always seem to be struck with some form of shock-and-awe when he ordered a plain cup of coffee. In this town, nobody seemed to enjoy the simpler pleasures in life, other than Melissa, of course.
"Since it's the weekend and all, and I'm working early, we should go see a movie." Dan liked the idea, and he's had definite feelings for her from time to time, but he knew that he was too old for her. It was about time he started focusing on girls his own age, he told himself. "I'm actually packed for the weekend. I have to be the bad guy and call people to tell them they're being cancelled."
Melissa didn't waste a second, "that's even better, a movie will be the perfect way to get your mind off of it. It'll just be as friends, it's not like it'd be a date or anything."
Dan thought for a second before replying. "Sorry, but I'll have to decline."
It wasn't Melissa that Dan was worried about, it was him. He knew that if he went to see a movie with her, he'd want more from Pandora's Box, and he'd gone down that same route before with younger women, and Melissa was a woman by every definition of the word, he felt it was time for him to move on to older women for once in his life.
"So what are you writing?" Melissa paused for a moment, looking at the side of Dan's face, her back to the wall, "you seem pretty wrapped up in it."
Dan turned to look at Melissa, "it's an essay. I used to write a lot in college, and it's been so monotonous at my job, I wanted to start writing again, so I'm writing an essay about politics." Melissa took a drag and fully exhaled before replying, "that's cool. Is it about Democrats and Republicans or something?"
"Kind of, it's more of an imaginative piece, predicting how a revolution would occur, what leads up to it, and how it would possibly end. I dunno, I had more fun in school with poetry."
"You should do that, then."
"I would, but poetry doesn't have much of a place nowadays. How would I ever get noticed with everybody else out there who have been writing since they were kids?"
"That isn't what it's about all the time. It's about expression, getting out all of the things inside that weigh you down. Poetry is one of the soul's many languages, it's not something that you can learn because everybody in the world was born knowing how to do it."
It was in these moments of insight that Dan truly felt attracted to her, when he was certain that she was the perfect girl for him. If only they had met at another time in their lives.
"You're right, I should do that more. My job is so frustrating that getting some of that out would do me some good." She smiled, "then you should do that instead of your big-headed political essay." He smiled toward her. "Go on, shoo!" She signaled with her left hand, "I'm going to finish this up, you go inside and write me something." Dan remained still, but made a funny face at her, turning his head to the side and looked at her with one eye, much in the same way a bird would, "I'll do that, and I'll make you proud, grand, grandmaster of all things expressive." She chuckled at his goofiness. "Go inside already." Dan turned his back to her and looked over his shoulder, "I'm already gone."
Dan took off around the corner and Melissa stood there, watching him for a brief moment before returning to her cigarette.
