Left and Right
by: Bulmafox
Disclaimer--I don't own Noir. If I did, the shoujo-ai would be a lot more blatant and there'd be a lot more Mireille and Chloe fighting over Kirika. Instead it's owned by Ryoe Tsukimura, Bee Train (the guys who like to toy with our heads), and Victor Entertainment.
Also, I can't claim credit for the title. A friend of mine and fellow Bee Train Fan member, Section 8, thought of it.
Chapter One
Kirika briskly walked home, humming a happy tune to herself. Today had been a productive day. She sat at her usual spot near the Seine, but she didn't get much painting done. Rather, she kept staring ahead, lost in thought, trying to find the perfect way to tell Mireille how she felt about her. She would bring up the letter, ask Mireille if she read it--sum it up for her if she hadn't--and just come right out and say she loved her. If Mireille was receptive and Kirika was feeling particularly bold, she might even kiss her. Kirika clutched her sketchbook to her chest as she wondered how well her plan would go.
"Mireille, I'm home," Kirika said softly as she opened the door. Her ears perked as she heard soft moans coming from the bedroom. She sat her stuff down quietly and tiptoed to the partition. She peeked around the corner, making sure not to be seen. Her eyes opened wide and she stifled a gasp upon seeing Mireille in bed. Naked. With someone else. A male someone. Kirika backed away and left as quietly as she came.
Kirika ran down the stairs as fast as possible as she tried not to cry, slammed the door on her way out and backed up against the wall. "Mireille..." she whispered as she felt tears well up, "How could you...how could you do this..no, how could I be...so stupid? Of course you'd have someone else." Kirika curled up and wept bitterly. "Why wouldn't you?"
Some time later, Kirika decided to go back to her usual spot. She walked slowly, not sure she wanted to make it there. Finally, she reached it. Her place. Kirika closed her eyes and thought about her great plan, everything she and Mireille had been through, how much she loved the blonde, how empty she felt without her. She took a deep breath, got a running start, and jumped into the river, fully intending to hit bottom.
A minute later, she surfaced and gasped for air, cursing her survival instincts. She floated on her back and stared at the twilight sky as she thought about everything and nothing.
Somewhere along the way, her thoughts drifted to Chloe. *This must've been how she felt...before I killed her. Like her heart's been ripped out of her chest.* Kirika knew she didn't mean literally, but it certainly hurt like it. Kirika started crying again. "I've been so terrible, Chloe. I'm so sorry I did that to you. You didn't deserve it. Any of it."
*******************************************************************
It was well into the night before Kirika decided what to do. She had already attempted to drown herself, only to be saved by her blasted survival skills. She reasoned the same thing would happen if she tried other methods; therefore, suicide was no longer an option.
She could continue to float here; maybe she could die of starvation or get tired and drown. But Kirika felt restless. Maybe she could barge into her home and confront Mireille. But it wasn't Mireille's fault Kirika waited too long. And what right did Kirika have to demand anything of Mireille, when she's the one who killed her family? She sighed. She might as well find something to do, to avoid going home. She swam to the bank, climbed out, and wandered the streets of Paris.
***************************************************************** **
Kirika found herself in front of a seedy nightclub, in a part of town she didn't recognize. *Oh well, as long as there's something to do...*
A big, burly bouncer got in her way. "Hey girl," he said sternly, "What's a girl like you doing out on a school night? Do your parents know you're here?"
*I don't have parents* she thought. Instead, she said, "Nani?", cocked her head, and showed him her ID card.
"What the--is this some kind of joke?"
"Watashi wa nihonjin, nai ka?"
"Huh?" He looked at Kirika, then the card, then Kirika again. "What are you trying to pull? Can you speak French, girl?"
"Iie."
"Ee-ay? What the heck's that supposed to mean?" He then asked her various questions, with Kirika answering only in Japanese. The bouncer finally let her in, if only to stop his pounding headache.
*That was easy.* Kirika slipped in and was assaulted by loud, driving music. She looked around. The majority of the floor was occupied by people dancing; near the back, there was an open door that lead upstairs--to where, Kirika didn't know; and off to one side was a sparsely populated bar. Kirika walked over to the bar and ordered herself a beer.
She took a big swig and almost spit it out. "Wha--" *This tastes horrible! Who would drink this!?* She gulped the whole thing down anyway, then ordered a nice glass of red wine.
The bartender, a kindly young man, looked at Kirika and asked, "Are you sure? It's a bad idea to mix drinks together. You don't wanna get drunk and have a nasty hangover, do you?"
*Getting drunk...that sounds good.* Maybe then she could forget about Mireille and her man. "I'd like two glasses of wine."
The bartender brought back two glasses--sparkling grape juice, but he didn't tell her that.
Kirika looked out at the dance floor as she sipped her wine. Everyone was having a good time, dancing dangerously close together, groping, kissing, making out; everyone had someone...except for her. She turned back around and closed her eyes, concentrating on her drinks.
"Hey, cutie," she heard someone close to her say.
Kirika continued drinking.
"Hey, I'm talking to you."
Kirika opened her eyes and looked at the woman beside her. "Me?"
"Of course you, who do you think? So what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"
*A place like this...I belong in a place like this.* "...Trying to forget about someone."
"What'd he do?"
"She. She's a she."
The woman raised an eyebrow and asked, "So you're gay then?"
Kirika thought about that for a moment. She knew she loved Mireille, and probably loved Chloe, and that both were women, but she never thought much about what it meant for her identity; she was just happy she could love at all. "Yeah, I guess I am."
"Cool. So am I."
"Really?" On a lark, Kirika asked, "So...what's your name?"
"Andrea. And yours?"
"Kirika."
"Beautiful name. Where you from?"
"Japan. Kawasaki." Close enough. "You?"
"Good old south France. Nice, to be exact. Hey, would you like to dance?"
"...um, I don't know how."
"Don't worry, I'll show you." She led Kirika to the dance floor. "Now, I'm gonna move to the beat. Just follow me."
Andrea started dancing and Kirika awkwardly followed her; she could just feel everyone's eyes bore into her. After a while, a slow song came on and Andrea grabbed Kirika's waist. "Maybe this'll be better. Just follow me." She moved closer and put her head on Kirika's shoulder.
Kirika stiffened a bit, but then realized it didn't feel so bad, having another body lean against hers, one who for some reason enjoyed her company. Suddenly, Andrea kissed her. Kirika didn't resist.
"Hey, was that your first kiss?"
"No." Chloe was her first, never mind Kirika just stood there and did nothing.
"Well I'm going a little bit deeper this time. Just do what I do." She kissed Kirika again, more deeply this time. Kirika found herself kissing her back. It felt nice, having someone show affection to her.
She studied the woman in front of her after they pulled away. She was Kirika's height, black, with dreadlocks running to her shoulders. At the moment she was wearing something skimpy. *She's not Mireille...but she'll do.* Kirika had heard of people using sex to numb their pain; maybe it would work for her, too. It wasn't like she was saving herself for Mireille anymore. "Hey, um...would you like to have sex with me?"
Andrea was taken aback. "Are you sure? I mean, this'll be your first time. It *is* your first time, isn't it?"
*As far as I know.* "Yes."
"And you still wanna waste it on a one-night stand?"
"I don't mind."
"Okay, if you're sure." Andrea paid the bartender the appropriate fee, then led Kirika up the stairs in back to one of the bedrooms.
************************************************************** *****
"Her name is Mireille."
"Who?"
"The person I tried to forget about," Kirika told Andrea as she lay in bed, naked, facing the wall. She felt like a dirty user and that she at least owed Andrea an explanation.
Andrea turned around and faced her back. She tried to wrap her arms around Kirika, but she shrugged them off. "So what happened?"
"Mireille and I have been living together for a while. Nearly a year. We've been through a lot together."
"And?"
"And I'd fallen in love with her. I was going to tell her today...then I found her..." Kirika's voice started to break.
"...With...someone else?"
Kirika nodded as tears rolled down her eyes.
"Wait..Kirika, are you crying?"
Kirika didn't answer. Instead, she wiped her tears away.
"Well why don't you tell her now? Maybe she'll forget about her and go with you."
"Him."
Andrea winced. "Ouch. That hurts."
"'Hurts'? It kills me. At first I only noticed it was someone else. Later, I realized it was a man and I could never have her."
"...Maybe she's bi."
Kirika turned around, her eyes questioning the dark-skinned woman.
"Maybe she likes both men and women."
"Is that possible?"
"It's not very common, but yeah, it happens."
"Hmm," Kirika pondered.
"So, tell me the rest of your story."
"Mireille told me once that a wounded beast only sees its own pain. That's what I was...a wounded beast. I used you to forget my pain." She turned back around. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be."
"How can you be so casual about this? And why are you being so nice to me?"
Andrea shrugged. "I like you. Don't worry, I went in eyes wide open. And hey, I got to sleep with an attractive girl." She reached out and touched Kirika's shoulder. Kirika hunched her shoulders but didn't move away.
"But why me? I mean, what's so special about me?"
"Like I said, you're attractive, and you're nice, and I thought 'why not?'...Hey Kirika, what are you gonna do now?"
"I don't know. I want to disappear."
"I'm sure it can't be *that*--"
Kirika cut her off with a look.
"Okay, maybe it *is* that bad."
Kirika turned back around.
"So, do you have a place to stay tonight?"
"I think I'll just wander around. I'll figure out something."
"You could stay here. It's late and I bet you're beat."
"I've stayed up tired before. It's nothing." Kirika got up and started looking for her clothes.
Andrea quickly sat up. "No don't. Please stay. I want you to stay."
Kirika looked at her. She looked up at the Japanese girl with pleading eyes. "What happened to 'one-night stand'?"
"I decided I like you. Come on, stay. You can wander in the morning."
"Hmm." Kirika lay back down and curled up with the covers, facing away from her companion. Andrea lay down next to her and tried to embrace her, but Kirika shrugged her off. Before long, Kirika was out like a light.
***************************************************************** **
Kirika sat curled up against a tree near some random part of the river. When she'd woken up that morning, Andrea was already gone. Kirika got dressed and left, expecting to never see her again. When she came downstairs, the bartender--a different one--greeted her and made sure she was alright. Before she left, he gave her a note, telling her Andrea left it for her. It was her phone number. Kirika hesitated, then took it, just in case.
Afterwards, she aimlessly wandered the streets of Paris for a while. She considered going home, but she still didn't feel ready to confront Mireille. And she couldn't go back to her spot on the Seine, either; the emotions it held were still too raw. Eventually she settled on a part of the river close to the edge of town.
"Where on Earth have you been, Kirika?" she heard a familiar voice scold. She looked up and saw a furious Mireille staring at her. "Pierre and I have been looking all over for you!"
Kirika lay her head back down.
"Answer me. What was so important you had to stay out all night and not tell me?"
Kirika didn't answer.
Mireille sat down next to Kirika. "Fine, you wanna play? I'll play. I'm not moving until you tell me what's wrong."
Kirika still didn't answer.
"Kirika, talk to me. Why did you disappear last night? Was it the Soldats?"
Kirika shook her head.
"Were you thinking about Chloe again?"
She did do that, but that wasn't why she left. She shook her head again.
"Did you find a man?"
Kirika's head jerked up. No she wasn't out with a man! Why would she be? She changed the subject. "...His name's Pierre?" she asked, still looking forward.
"My boyfriend? Yes, why?"
Kirika winced at the word 'boyfriend'.
Mireille clapped her hands. "Oh right! I never introduced you to him! We'll have to have lunch sometime, the three of us. Is that why you ran off? Because I didn't introduce you to my boyfriend?"
Kirika winced again. She sighed and decided to let Mireille off the hook. "No, I'm jealous."
Mireille wore a sly smile. "Oh, I see what this is about. You're jealous because I have a boyfriend and you don't. Don't worry; I know a few guys who'd love to go out with you. I can call them up after lunch."
"No."
"'No'?"
"I'm not jealous of you," Kirika said, "I'm jealous of him."
"Pierre? Why would you be jealous of Pierre? What's he have that you don't?"
Kirika sighed. *Do I really have to spell it out for her?* "You."
"What? You have me...well, you know...as..a...wait." Mireille looked at Kirika quizzically. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean I'm in love with you."
"You're in love with me, is that all--" Mireille did a double take. "Wait, did you just say you're in love with me?"
Kirika finally looked at Mireille. "Yes."
"But...you're a woman...and-and I'm a woman..."
"So?"
"Does...that mean you're gay?"
"Yes. I'm gay and I'm in love with you." Kirika pouted and turned away from Mireille.
Mireiile touched Kirika's shoulder and turned her around, making Kirika look her straight in the eyes. "Kirika, you're my best friend and I'm glad I met you...but I'm straight." As if to explain, she added, "I like men."
Kirika teared up. She whispered, "I know."
"Why? Why did you fall in love with me?"
Kirika looked dowm. "I'm sorry." Then she looked away. "But...I can't help it. I can't just turn it off like a switch."
"Well you can try."
Kirika glared evilly at her. "Maybe you can try to stop liking your boyfriend."
Mireille raised her hands. "Okay, I'm sorry. That was insensitive. Maybe I can help. Come with me to Pierre's. Maybe you can get to know him, stop seeing him as a rival. Maybe you two can be friends." She stood up and got out her cell phone. "Hello, Pierre?...It's me....yes I found her...at the edge of town. Look, we're coming over to your place. See you in a few minutes...okay, bye. Come on Kirika."
Kirika looked incredulous, but got up and went with Mireille anyway.
**************************************************************** ***
A while later, Mireille and Kirika reached Pierre's place, in a nice looking apartment on the bottom floor. Mireille knocked on the door. Kirika was still pouting, wondering why on Earth Mireille would ever think this would work.
A tall, suave man with wavy black hair answered the door. "Hi Mireille. I see you brought Kirika." He said to her, in a voice one would use for a child, "So you're the famous Kirika. My name's Pierre. Mireille's told me so much about you. Come on in."
After Mireille and Kirika seated themselves in the living room, Pierre asked, "Would you two like some lunch, or some tea perhaps?"
"Actually, let me go get it," Mireille interrupted. "Sit down and relax, honey." She left for the kitchen, leaving Pierre and Kirika alone.
"So you're Kirika," Pierre said.
"Hmm."
"And how long have you known her?"
"A year. You?"
"My you're friendly. A few months."
Months?! Why hadn't someone told her? "How long have you been dating?"
"Almost as long. We met in a coffee shop. Mireille had ordered a cappucino, and was cursing because she forgot her change. I offered to pay the difference. Afterwards, she sat down at her table and I followed her. She moved and I followed her again, and again. Eventually, she gave in and let me sit with her. Turns out we had more in common than I thought. We hit it off, and well, the rest was history..."
While Pierre prattled obliviously about him and Mireille hitting it off, Kirika idly wondered if she could get away with murdering him and making it look like an accident.
"...Oh, sorry. I got self-absorbed. So what about you? How did you meet?"
"I sent her an e-mail from Japan."
"And?"
"Here we are."
Pierre looked obviously uncomfortable.
Kirika asked, "Do you know you look like Mireille's uncle?"
"Actually, yeah. Mireille told me she has a thing for men who remind her of her uncle, God rest his soul. So, do you have a boyfriend yet?"
"No."
"No? Why not? You're so cute." He smiled sunnily at her. "I bet boys are falling all over you."
"I like girls."
Pierre was taken aback. "Well, that was blunt. So how long have you known?"
Kirika shrugged. "Forever."
"Forever, huh? Well do your parents know?"
"No."
"Do you plan on telling them?"
"No."
"You don't talk much, do you?"
"No."
Mireille chose then to make her appearance. She kissed Pierre on the cheek and asked, "So how's it going?"
"Did I do something wrong? I don't think she likes me."
"No. She's just shy. I'll have to take a rain check on that lunch, Pierre. I just remembered I have stuff to do."
"What stuff--"
"Stuff." Mireille stared at Kirika. "Female stuff."
Pierre backed off.
"Let's go, Kirika."
As Mireille left with Kirika, she held an imaginary cell phone to her ear and mouthed to Pierre, "Call me."
******************************************************************* *****
"What was that?" Mireille demanded as they walked home. "Could you not even try to be nice to him?"
"Hmm."
"Don't 'Hmm' me. Kirika, all I wanted was for you to give him a chance. You might like him."
"All you *wanted*, was for me to suck it up and pretend my heart wasn't breaking while you got romantic with your snugglebunch!"
Mireille stopped and stared at Kirika, surprised by her boldness.
"Mireille, this isn't just a schoolgirl crush. I won't think 'Oh, she's in good hands now,' and just let you go. I love you. Do you know when I hung over the lava, your love was the only thing that saved me?"
"Kirika, it wasn't--"
"The only reason I'm not dead right now is because I believed you loved me."
Mireille looked away.
"So forgive me if I want to kill the man I consider my rival."
"You didn't try, did you?"
"No, but I thought it." Kirika chuckled a little to herself. "Chloe really was my other half. This is exactly what happened to her, only I took it out on myself." She ran off before Mireille could say anything.
************************************************************** ***********
"Mireille's straight," Kirika told Andrea as they ate lunch at a little bistro. After Kirika's anger cooled down and she stopped running, she took out the phone number she'd stashed away. She needed someone to talk to, and Andrea was the only other person she knew.
"You don't know. Maybe she's bi."
"No, she's straight. She told me."
Andrea winced. "Ouch. So what happens now."
"Either get over her or kill myself." Never mind she already tried, and failed.
"You do know suicide's never the answer, right?"
Kirika didn't say anything.
"...RIght?"
"..."
"Say something, Kirika. You're scaring me. Promise me you won't kill yourself over her."
Kirika looked down.
"Promise!"
"Hmm."
"Kirika, it'll be a waste if you kill youself. You're important."
Kirika didn't look convinced.
"You are. Don't ever let anyone else tell you otherwise."
Kirika changed the subject. "Andrea, you know everything about me, but I know nothing about you. What's your story?"
"Well, I grew up in a typical urban middle-class family in Nice; plenty of friends, the cool girl, the whole nine yards." Exactly the kind of person Kirika envied. "Realized I was a lesbian, and came out, in high school. Family and friends were shocked, of course, but accepting."
"A charmed life."
"Not really. I was bored to death doing the same thing day in, day out. WHen I graduated, my parents wanted me to go to college. I wanted to travel. We got in a big fight about it, so I took my college fund and left."
"Do you like it?"
"Love it. I can do what I want, when I want, how I want. For example, I can hop on a train to Marseille tonight or fly to Switzerland tomorrow. It's up to me. So what about you?"
"What about me?"
"I don't know *everything* about you. Tell me about your hometown, your family and friends. Why you came here."
Kirika thought for a minute. "My parents are in America, and my classmates are all back in Japan. Mireille is...an old friend."
"So do you like Paris?"
"It's okay." Kirika changed the subject again. "I want to ask you something. How would you get over someone you love? You must've gone through this before."
"Actually, no. I'm lucky like that. But I have friends who have. The key is fall in love with someone else."
"Meaning you?"
"Hey, I didn't say that. Second best is occupy yourself. Stay so busy you won't have time to think about her."
"Thanks." Kirika hurried up and finished her meal, paid her and Andrea's way, then rushed home.
****************************************************************** *******
Kirika rushed up the stairs and quickly knocked on the door before barging in. She collected her art supplies as quickly as possible and was almost out the door when Mireille called out, "Kirika."
Kirika was startled. She turned around. "Mireille, what are you doing here?"
"I live here, silly."
"Where's Pierre?"
"At home. He called while you were gone. He wanted to apologize for treating you like a kid."
"Does he know?"
"No. I want to apologize, too. I shouldn't have written off your feelings like that. And rubbing Pierre in your face *was* a little cruel. I wanted your crush to be over with already and was only thinking of myself."
KIrika did a little bow. "Thanks."
"Pierre and I are going out tomorrow night. Wanna come?"
Kirika almost jumped at the chance to spend time with Mireille, but thought better of it. "No thanks. If I go I'll be plotting his murder."
"Fine then; your loss. Let's go somewhere tomorrow afternoon then. Without Pierre."
"Maybe."
"Hey, don't stay out too late. I don't want to send a search party again."
"Hm-hmm."
"And Kirika? You and Chloe aren't as alike as you think. After all, you're still alive and you haven't killed Pierre yet."
"Hmm," Kirika said as she took off.
******************************************************************* ******
Kirika sat on a park bench, staring blankly at the paper. She couldn't think of anything to draw that didn't remind her of Mireille. Even still-lifes didn't help; every food she came across reminded her of a meal she enjoyed with Mireille; every building she passed, a hit; every blonde--and there were many--Mireille herself.
She looked around for a nice, neutral thing to sketch, free of any connotations. *Trees. Yes, trees are nice. Trees are safe.* She starting copying the largest tree she saw, concentrating on the smallest details and pushing everything else out of her mind.
And thus began Kirika's quest to get over Mireille. Each day, she would return to the same spot and add more to her drawings, until the whole scene was drawn and painted. Then Kirika would move to another part of town. And each day, she tried her best to think only of her art. Her new friend, Andrea, kept traveling, but frequently checked up on Kirika, to make sure she hadn't done anything drastic. Before long, Kirika rarely thought of Mireille while she was out.
However, at night, when all the lights were out and there was nothing to distract her, Kirika would stare at Mireille from her bed (Mireille had replaced the couch with another bed, at Kirika's insistance) and want her again. Sometimes she would simply stare and admire how beautiful she was. Other times, she cursed Mireille's straightness and the fact that Pierre had her and Kirika didn't. Still others, she cursed herself for falling in love with Mireille and wished it would end already.
*************************************************************** **********
One night, Kirika sat on her bed while she watched Mireille dress nicely and pose in front of a mirror. "I'm going to spend the night with Pierre. Are you gonna be alright?" Mireille asked.
Kirika nodded noncommitally.
Mireille walked over to Kirika and bent down to her eye level. "Now Kirika, you aren't going to do something foolish like run away or kill yourself, are you? You'll be alright?"
"You go, Mireille. Have a nice time."
"Cheer up. It's just for tonight; it's not like I'm moving in with him." She posed in the mirror again and then heard a knock. "Oh, that's him. See ya later. Don't have too much fun while I'm gone!" she called on the way out.
All of a sudden, the flat felt very empty. Kirika was sure if she listened hard enough, she could hear a pin drop somewhere. She leaned back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. She was relieved, right? She should be glad she wouldn't have to be alone with Mireille, wanting her again. So why was there a lump in her throat? Kirika knew perfectly well why. She was imagining all the things Pierre was doing with Mireille that she never could. Taking her on a romantic walk, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, kissing her, making l--Kirika sobbed. She didn't want to think about it. And yet, it kept playing in her mind, like it had a will of its own. Kirika just let go and cried while envisioning Pierre making love to Mireille.
Later, after Kirika was all cried out, she lay in bed, with the light still on, bored and unable to get to sleep. She finally got up and turned off the light, and squeezed her eyes shut, but her mind was still racing. After a few vain attempts, she rolled out of bed and decided to leave. If she couldn't get to sleep, she could at least get out of there and try to think about something other than Mireille and Pierre. She scribbled a quick note to Mireille before she left, just in case.
Some time later, she wandered into an all-night diner in a quiet part of town. Kirika looked around and saw she was the only one there. How fitting. She sat down at the bar and ordered a hot tea.
The waitress, a middle-aged and jaded, but kindly lady, asked, "What's a young lady like you doing out all alone at this hour? Don't you know something can happen to you?"
"I'm fine."
"Don't 'I'm fine' me, young lady. You could've been hurt or killed. I have a daughter about your age and I worry."
"No really, I'm fine."
The waitress rolled her eyes. "Whatever. But I want to see you call a cab before you leave." She left to get Kirika's tea.
When she came back, Kirika blurted, "I needed to get out of there."
"Out of where?"
"Home."
The waitress raised an eyebrow. "Did you run away, young lady? Do your parents know where you are?"
"Wha--no. They live in America. It's my thoughts I'm running from."
"Come again?"
"I'm in love with a straight woman."
"Oh, poor dear."
And so, Kirika told the waitress everything about her quest to get over Mireille, while she kept refilling Kirika's tea, adding an "Hm-hmm", an "Oh", or "And then?" where appropriate.
"...I thought I was making progress, but every night I'd go back to square one. It's like a saying I heard, 'one step forward, two steps back'?"
"And?"
"It's like I'm just distracting myself; putting off the inevitable. Every time I see Mireille, it all comes ba--maybe that's it."
"What's it?"
"Maybe it's living with her. No matter what I do during the day, at night I always come back home--to her." Kirika's brows furrowed in concentration. "I think I know what to do now. Thanks for the tea." Kirika left some money and dashed out.
"Wait, come back!" The waitress yelled. "You forgot your change!"
*************************************************************** **********
"So how goes it?" Andrea asked the next day as she and Kirika sat on a park bench, and Kirika licked her ice cream. She had just returned from a short trip to Marseilles, and she and Kirika were catching up.
"Terribly. I'm moving out."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"It's been three weeks and it's not getting any better. As long as I live with Mireille I'll be stuck. I'm tired of feeling this way."
"Where will you go?"
"Japan."
"What are you gonna do there?"
"I don't know. I'll figure it out."
"Well, if you think it'll help...then good luck. E-mail me when you get there, okay?"
"Sure."
"And send me lots of pictures. I've never been to Japan before."
*************************************************************** **********
"You're doing *what*?!" Mireille asked incredulously, after she came back home and caught Kirika in the main room packing.
"I'm moving out," Kirika answered. "I can't live here anymore."
"Why not? I thought you were making progress."
"I'm not. Every time I see you I regress. I need to leave so I can move on."
"You're not going to change your mind, are you?"
Kirika shook her head.
"...Where are you going?"
"Japan. I already withdrew half our savings and bought a plane ticket."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I thought of it last night, and honestly, I wanted one foot out the door before you found out. Otherwise I might not be able to leave."
"What are you going to do there?"
"I don't know."
"Will I see you again?"
"When it doesn't hurt to see you."
"How long will that take?"
"I don't know. I'll let you know."
"Kirika, you know this is the last thing I want. I never meant to drive you out."
"I know." Kirika started tearing up. "I'll miss you," she whispered.
"I'll miss you, too."
Kirika finished packing, put on her bookbag and opened the door. She hesitated for a moment, then turned around and flung herself on Mireille, crying into her shirt. "Mireille..."
"Shh," Mireille said as she stroked Kirika's hair, "I'll still be here. You can move back in anytime."
Kirika pulled away from Mireille and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry. I have to go now." She gave her roommate one last look before she left. "Sayonara, Mireille."