Oneshots

しんじゅわひとりでわできない

I met you on the beaches of Yokohama.

It was a unique experience after traveling over 3,000 miles on my own. Your voice was loud and cheerful, laced with something sinister I couldn't stop thinking about. Your eyes were soulful, like you knew everything that had happened to me over the past three weeks. Like you understood. It made me want to punch you in the fucking face.

Before that, I was thinking. I needed to get the fuck out of Japan as soon as possible. I hadn't meant to land anywhere. I fell asleep without anchoring my boat, and the tide brought me to the second most populated city in the fucking country. They took all my shit. The gold, the provisions, the bird. I could hear him trying to get out of detainment as I sat in the jailhouse. A normal person likely would have gone insane, sitting in that room for so long and listening to the screams. I guess I was used to it.

The detective's interview with me was hasty. He seemed fed up, which bothered me because I didn't want to be there either. He leaned back in his chair. His words were drawn out and mocking. Like a child, almost. But he must have figured me out, because he left the room in under half an hour with a bag of chips.

I sat again, listening. There were birds outside. Fish in the water. Insects, everywhere as usual. Small reptiles. The owl. I was just thinking that if they'd really caught me, I could kill myself in prison. That was when you showed up. Ironic.

"Beeelllaaadooonnnaaaaa!"

Whatever dignity I had went out the window as soon as I opened my eyes. I could hear the other detective laughing, and I knew it was because something was happening. I was blushing. Never happened to me before.

Your eyes were a deep, chocolatey brown. It was the first thing I noticed. Like a doe's eyes. And your smile was crooked and genuine. I blinked, but couldn't find words.

"I've never gotten that much of a reaction before." You chuckled, leaning into the table across from me. I realized my mouth was still open in shock and closed it. I couldn't speak.

"Jack London, right?" I nearly shivered. My Japanese was rusty, but I could make out what you were saying. Your voice was melodic. I nodded. You hummed, sat back, and I got a better look.

Soft, wavy hair. Dark brown, like damp bark. Freckled, sun-kissed skin. Your cheeks dimple when you smile. You dress like an academic. There were bandages around your neck and arms. I'd already figured you out. There was a familiar glint in your eyes, too, like you read my mind.

"Let's start simple, Jack. How did you get here?"

I'd already concocted the perfect lie in my head, but I couldn't focus on how the fuck to say it now. You bore into me with your perfect eyes again.

"I... sailed," I managed. You smiled at me. I clenched my fists in handcuffs behind my back.

"I thought that was obvious," you remarked. "Where is your crew? You couldn't have gotten all the way here from... where did you say you were from?"

"Alaska." I couldn't say Red Dog. Then you could have easily found me online somehow, I think. I don't know how the internet works. I was on the CIA's top ten.

"Alaska... a few thousand miles from here, isn't it? Don't tell me you came alone."

"They..." I swallowed, translating as I spoke. "Died." You raised your eyebrows at me. Fuck. That was perfect too.

"Died? How so?"

"The sea.. took them. There was a... a storm."

"A storm? Would this be documented in the captain's log?"

"N- no, sir. We... We didn't have a captain. It wasn't a formal voyage."

You hummed and leaned on your hand. I kept my eyes forward, but my hands were slick with sweat. I didn't understand, because I was a good liar. And I didn't care that I'd killed those men. But you looked at me and I didn't know what the fuck was gonna happen anymore. My knees buckled under your gaze.