Demon Stories

Saya: Baijiu, 1999, Japan

Saya

Baijiu

1999, Japan

There would come a day just like any other where I knew my Beau would tell me of things unsaid. Things no one would know about him, things lost with the flow and passage of time. 

This day was cold, snowy. The snow was fluffy and light, beautiful. I was on the balcony of our apartment waiting for him to come back with food. He said he'd give me a Christmas treat, so he went to KFC, promising to bring back also a bottle of wine. 

Very lightly, I began to hear his little footsteps in the high heels coming up the street. He had worn very skinny, black, tall heels this evening, which were impractical but when was my love ever practical? But he was smart, and he elevated himself above the snow when needed, making only tiny impressions as he floated along. These floaty steps, impressing on the snow just a bit, were the distinct footsteps I heard returning to me.

My heart bubbled with anticipation, this honey love. I put my hands over my mouth and leaned over the balcony with my elbows set steadily on the rail. In this pose, I saw him walking and looking happy, a ribbon tied around a dark colored bottle he carried with one hand and a large bucket of chicken held in front of him with the other, looking entirely too big for his small self to carry. He began to hum some kind of song, and I noticed the flowing notes symbolized the fluidity of a violin's bow. 

His large white faux mink cropped jacket looked still too cold to wear, and his frilly short black skirt swayed as he walked elegantly despite the burden he carried with his arm in front. I wanted to call down to him, to tell him I would carry the things this short way, but I held my tongue and just smiled, for I knew despite how he looked he could carry these.

Then like a miracle, he looked up at me when he was just below. The light of the streetlamps caught his eyes and lit them up, the green luminesced like liquid jewels. He beamed at me and held up the things he carried just a little more, showing me proudly. I smiled as if already drunk. This caused his beaming smile to increase as surely his own heart filled with warmth contained from his love for me.

Knowing he was nearly to me again, I raced to the hallway and before I could come to the top of the stairs he was already running up them, the heels abandoned in the entrance way and the sounds of his little feet padding up the stairs excitedly. As he got to the top step he appeared and we would have collided had I not restrained myself in that split second he had alighted. 

I wrapped my arms around his precious form, and he soaked in my love only as his two arms were taken up by what he carried. I smelled in his long, curly, black hair, the rose and almond scents twirling up my nose like slow moving birds. He relaxed completely, my warmth overtaking the cold which he had acquired outside. The snow from his hair melted on my cheek as I pressed my face to it. I began to rub his back vigorously to warm him. He began to purr.

"I brought alcoholll," he said in that purr, still excited but now too relaxed to jump around.

"What kind is it, my beauty? It doesn't look like wine," I said, squeezing him tighter before parting and kissing his cheek through his hair.