i never told a lie, and that makes me a liar.
❝
The clacking of Toyo’s probing cane against the sidewalk was the one of the few noises on the street despite it being the daytime. There were other noises, of course, sounds of the occasional car and a few voices of people talking rapidly into their phones for one reason or another. Even a few chimes from people opening doors, or jingles inside buildings that she passed. But the business district was normally much more lively, and so Toyo could almost consider it a quiet day. She could almost contribute it entirely to the fact that it was a Saturday, but there were people like her who went out and worked on the weekends on occasion if there was nothing better to do, so it was safe to say the other cause of the sparse street was the cold. Likely people stayed indoors today, either ordering delivery or “borrowing” some food from their company’s fridge, body tense as if waiting to be chastised, because really, it was cold, even Toyo could admit that. It was why she wore her coat and even a scarf for good measure, apprehensive of becoming sick for more than several reasons.
Despite the fact that she really didn’t want to get sick, however, she was outside and wandering, unable to resist a windy day. It unwound her some, the way people rarely ever could, and it made her steps steadier even as her skin stung slightly from how cold it was getting. It was enough that she found a wall to lean on to just take a moment, uncaring how she looked or of people’s confusion, obvious that she didn’t need to see them or for them to vocalize it. But then, she supposed she was cheating a little bit, having learned a long time ago how to recognize the falters in steps and voices, how to determine if there actually were people staring at her instead of the false feeling that came with panic and stress. One had to learn all of that when all they could see is inky black nothingness; except people found it creepy when you did it too much, or at least vocalized it, which was almost hilariously unfair, really, because Toyo could very well say that using eyes was creepy.
But she didn’t, as manners existed. Besides, she couldn’t fault people for that.
Toyo was running a finger across ridged lines on her foldable cane, in thought, even if the metal was cool to the touch and the ridges were almost unpleasant. Her free hand was stuffed in her coat pocket, grasping her phone, almost as though she was expecting a call or to make a call herself. It was tempting, even if she knew that the one she wanted to call would be at work and would only irritate him. Or perhaps that was why it was so tempting, the petty need to irritate. She had heard there was a play for the little elementary schoolers, and Isamu was supposed to be a raccoon dog; he had bragged about it the night before, because he almost had been not casted at all but said Mrs. Okumura had been very impressed with his efforts. Ayaka had tried to take the phone after that, proclaiming that she would be the lead role next year even as Isamu was groaning at her.
As always, she missed them, and was so damn proud of them it hurt sometimes. She’d asked when the play was, even if Daisuke had grumbled that she shouldn’t make promises that she probably couldn’t keep, and Toyo made sure that
everyone knew where she’d be on the 22nd of October. Also, you know, that her boy was raccoon dog and that he was so talented.
It was enough of a reason to give in and pull out her phone and hold the side button down, activating the built in phone assistant that Toyo was all too happy to abuse.
“Text Daisuke Nagai that I’ll be at the play before him, and emphasize the before, on the 22nd, 1 o’ clock sharp. Also add that I would love a recording.” She couldn’t see her children’s faces or their expressions, and it tore at her every time; but audio was good enough, always would be wonderful just to hear their voices and smile when they were nervous and laugh when they were endearingly confident. Even if Daisuke rejected her desire of a recording, she was sure she could needle at another parent to give or let her buy a copy.
After having it play back the message to her, she sent it and began to slide the phone back into her pocket, only for it to start vibrating. For a moment, she was surprised, thinking that was awfully fast for someone supposedly at work, but then the standard vibration gave way to a custom one and a grumpy female voice began reciting her own name, as though in resigned pain. Toyo clicked the button she had been taught automatically answered phone calls and held it far from her ear so that the exasperated growl didn’t hurt her ears. She still heard it clearly though, even with the phone several inches away, which was a testament to how loud the Pusher was. After a moment, she was laughing lightly, voice cheery, much to the other’s annoyance.
“Hello Mayu-chan, how may I help you?”Predictably, it was about the fact she had up and left without telling anyone.
“You really need to stop doing this! What are we going to do if you get in trouble?” Toyo felt a fond smile crawling across her face despite the tone, even as she gave a mock gasp of hurt.
“Me? In trouble? Don’t you have faith in your King?” There was silence for a handful of seconds, but it spoke volumes and made the Grey King snicker. For a moment she decided to take pity on the clan member, lightly saying,
“I’ll be back after I grab gyoza for lunch, and I’ll stay longer to help later to make up for this. Sound like a deal?” Mayu audibly cheered up at that, and it weakened her attempts to retain her grumpy tone.
“Yeah, yeah, sure. Bring some gyoza back though. And be careful of HOMRA, they’ve been volatile lately.” Toyo hummed, confused as to why she’d bring up the Red Clan.
“Do you think I’ll end up in Shizume Town?” The response was immediate, blank as though recited from memory.
“Somehow, I think you’ll end up in Shizume Town or Shizume Town will travel all the way over here.” And, well, Toyo understood that, because the Red Clan sometimes did travel past their territory to wreak havoc, even if they proclaimed that it was warranted. The Grey King still had to laugh, however, teasing,
“I didn’t know that towns could walk, Mayu-chan.” And directly after that, there was a dial tone, signaling that the Pusher had reached the end of her patience and had hung up on her King.
Perhaps another King would have been troubled by such a thing, but Toyo found that it eased her worries. Mayu had taken awhile to acclimate, painfully uptight before she had relaxed. Even so, she probably shouldn’t be as proud as she was in that moment, with a wide grin and affection tugging at her chest.
“Children grow up so fast, don’t they?” She said to someone walking past, surprising them into stuttering out an answer she didn’t listen to and quickly passing her by.
The black haired woman had been on her way to a diner within the district, the best place to have gyoza when at work and not in the other districts, when she had been interrupted by squawking. The woman had immediately paused, almost thinking it was part of her imagination, but the flapping wings and voice were hard to refute when it continued to occur.
(And no, Toyo wasn’t crazy, so there went that option.)
It was curious enough, and suspicious enough, that she listened to the bird, trying to calm it down with a light tone.
“Easy, easy. Why don’t we do this one step at a time, hmm? You said...Nagare, was it, was eaten by the road?” An image that didn’t really seem plausible, but then stranger things had happened in Tokyo.
“Why don’t you lead me to him, and then we’ll go grab chicken nuggets?” The best thing was to give some bait, though perhaps she wouldn’t need to from how frantic the bird was. Likely a parrot, given that there were two common birds that could talk and he was larger than a parakeet. Should parrots eat chicken nuggets? Ah well, what did it matter?
“Only thing is that I need you to fly slower, I can’t exactly keep up and help Nagare if you rush off without me.” Well, she could actually, but normal blind people couldn’t, and she didn’t use her sanctum during the day if she could help it.
She followed the parrot with the sound of his wings, quickly using her probing cane to navigate around obstacles. He seemed to pick a route that was not as cluttered, however, which made her consider he was simply an intelligent support parrot.
“I never did ask for your name,” and didn’t really expect one in turn given by his apparent stream of thought sentences.
“Not that it matters, but you can call me Mori-san.”Eventually they did reach this so called Nagare; the tapping of fingers against a screen, sounding like a larger tablet, was an easy tell that someone was there, but the parrot was already flying away from her, and, by the sounds of it, circling the person eating by the road. She slowed her walk, tapping carefully low at the ground just in case there was just someone laying down on the ground using a tablet, but eventually her cane connected to, presumably, a wheelchair.
“Well this is certainly different from what I expected,” Toyo noted lightly, already locating the pothole on the ramp.
“Not exactly eaten, but I do see what you mean. Thank you for leading me.” The latter part was for the bird, not that she expected much of a proper response.
“So, Nagare-san, is it? I’m Toyo Fujimori.” It was best to introduce yourself in times like these, otherwise it’d be awkward for the both of them since she’d just be a random person helping him out.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”She quickly folded up her cane and slid it into her other coat pocket, which was deep enough that she luckily didn’t have to trouble him by holding it in his lap.
“You have a loyal parrot,” Toyo said idly as she tipped the wheelchair slightly away from the pothole and started to push him forward, just until they were both off the sidewalk ramp. Then she simply held onto one of the handles, careful not to lean too much and therefore impede his movement further.
“I promised your parrot that we would get chicken nuggets. Does he have a particular favorite?” Would almost make sense, because people did, and the parrot seemed to have his preferences.
“Would you like me to push, or would you rather move on your own?” Toyo would understand either option, though she had to add,
“Just note that you’ll be navigating regardless, I can’t really do that without my cane and I have no idea where a fast food spot may be or where a restaurant selling chicken nuggets would be, either.” What could she say, she knew all of the good gyoza spots and all the bad ones, but chicken nuggets weren’t that important to her.
