I'm sitting alone at a table, drinking what's left of my coffee, and I check my watch. I huff in annoyance when I look at the time: it's been over an hour. Bored out of my mind and with nothing to do, I look around, and as I'm looking out the window I spy the tower where the SPK headquarters once was. It's doubtful that Near—that L—set up there after everything ended with Kira. I suppose it's possible that he's still in New York, though. He can be surprisingly sentimental. At least, from what I remember. The last time I saw him was in 2010, five years ago. That was also the last time I saw Allison, though I occasionally receive letters from her.
Once, when I was responding to one of her letters, I asked her why she bothered writing to me if I couldn't see her, if she wouldn't even tell me where she was or what was happening. She had written back promising that we'll meet again someday and that this is for the best. She told me that the reason she keeps writing is because of the promise she made all those years ago. Remember, the one I told you about, right after my first encounter with Lacey? Allison had promised me that we would be best friends forever. I can't help but let out a dry laugh as I picture the last time I saw her. The smile and wave. Watching her depart, her red hair whipping back and forth as she ran for her motorcycle in a hurry. She had thought she was going to come back.
"Piper!"
I turn to where I heard the voice. "Where have you guys been? We were supposed to meet up here an hour ago."
The youngest of the three blows a strand of hair out of her face. She's absent-mindedly twirling a ringlet of her long, curly black hair that she wears in pigtails, using her other hand to hug her sketchbook to her chest. "We got lost."
Lacey groans, pulls out a chair, and sits down. She grabs my coffee and is disappointed to find that it's nearly empty. She glares at the sketchbook, as if it's the one at fault. "Lost my arse, Harrowing! You kept making us stop so you could draw every other blooming building and statue you seen!"
Harrowing just shrugs. She sets her sketchbook down on the table and continuing to twirl her hair, heads over to the counter to place an order.
With a laugh, the last of my friends takes a seat in between Lacey and me. "I swear, she was doing it just to spite you, seeing how you were rushing us."
"I told you, Joy, I came to New York back in 2009, and I promised meself that I'd never step foot in this toilet again if it was the last thing I did!"
She gets a couple of glares from some locals.
"Yet here you are." Joy smirks.
"For Story; this ain't for no pleasure of me own."
"Think positively, Lacey," Joy assures her. "While we're here, we can pick up something pretty for you to wear to your wedding. Or do you still plan on wearing that tablecloth you bought? You seem rather fond of that jarg."
"At least I'm getting married," Lacey quips. "You and your boyfriend has been together how many years now? I don't see no ring on your finger. It's 2015, and you ain't getting any younger, Joy." She taps her watch and smirks.
"Sack it," Joy says as Harrowing returns with her drink and takes a seat, silently observing the argument. "He's not my boyfriend, and you do not want to go down that road."
"You really thinks I'm afraid to kick it off?" Lacey says, raising an eyebrow. "I can have you done over in a minute, yeah."
Joy shrugs. "Yes, but I cheat."
"How about we change the subject?" I suggest. "We were going to go see the sights, but it looks like we've got to head to Story's book signing soon. And we have to remember to pick up a souvenir for Birdie like we promised."
"She goes to MIT," Lacey points out. "It's a twenty minute drive to Boston, innit? She can buy herself a snow globe, yeah."
I roll my eyes. She usually wouldn't say something like that and would generally have been eager to buy Birdie something. However, Lacey has a special place in her heart where she keeps her hatred for New York.
"Why do you hate this place so much?" I ask.
"Good question," Joy agrees, also curious as to what the answer is.
"Last time I was here, I seen Mello," Lacey says. "I sent Allison a text. I ain't heard nothing from her since."
We are all silent for a moment. Harrowing takes a sip of her hot cocoa, leaving some chocolate on her upper lip when she puts her cup down. Lacey snickers, something so little brightening her up, and she silently hands Harrowing a napkin.
Harrowing pouts at Lacey but takes the napkin and wipes her mouth. Harrowing is... I guess "shy" isn't quite the right word, but she has opened up a lot since the first time I met her. She's capable of expressing herself in little ways that she couldn't before.
Going back to her cocoa, she takes another sip more carefully this time, and after setting the cup down, she speaks up. "I saw Roger," she offers up, trying to change the subject as I had previously suggested.
"Roger?" Lacey says, raising an eyebrow. "You mean from Wammy's?"
Harrowing nodded, then took another sip from her cocoa.
"You certain it was him you seen, Harrowing?" Lacey says, an eyebrow raised.
"Of course," Harrowing says, looking almost offended that Lacey would doubt her. Harrowing has a keen eye, able to notice little things about her surroundings that the rest of us often overlook. "He even looked at us. I could tell he recognized us."
"Then why didn't he say anything?" Joy asks.
Harrowing is silent for a moment, pondering Joy's query. "I don't know, but he smiled. I don't know what that means, though."
"You're strange, you knows that?" Lacey says.
I shake my head. "Harrowing's right."
Lacey looks at me dubiously. "You thinks that Mr. Roger came over to this shitehole, and he didn't even say nothing when he seen us?" Despite her apparent skepticism, I can tell that she is willing to hear me out.
Years back, when I first heard Mr. Roger had decided to retire, I had been suspicious. Mr. Roger isn't one to let old age hold him back. He had been willing to spend all those years filling in for Mr. Wammy, who I had never had the chance to meet. I remembered learning that Mr. Wammy was the original Watari, and after learning that Mr. Roger had quit, I knew that he had left to go play out the role of his old friend as he had before.
"Just trust me when I say that Mr. Roger has reasons for being in New York." Joy nods, knowing what I mean, while Harrowing and Lacey, who have no knowledge that I had worked on the Kira case, begrudgingly accept my verdict. "But what he did... that sounds like Mr. Roger. He may not like kids, but I think the reason he was willing to stay at Wammy's for all those years despite that was because he enjoyed seeing what they could become. What all of us have become."
Lacey smiles and chuckles in amusement. "Old geezer has a soft spot, does he?" she says.
I check my watch and stand up. "We should probably get going now."
"Okay," Lacey says, stretching her arms. "I'm going grab a cuppa first."
Joy nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm probably going to get something, too."
"More hot cocoa," Harrowing curtly explains.
"Alright, then," I say. "I'll just wait outside. I'm feeling cramped in here."
"Just hang on a mo'," Joy tells me. "We won't be long."
I smile, nodding at them in understanding, and then I exit through the front door. The cold, winter air hits me like a wave, and it almost feels as though it's heightening my senses. The streets are busy, unsurprisingly. Everything's always busy here.
"Everything's the same as I left it back in '09," I muse. After standing there for about a minute, I turn to walk back into the café to see if everyone is about ready to go.
The second I do so, I bump into someone, who then trips forward, falling onto his hands and knees. I can't see his face since he's facing away from me, tightly zipped up in his coat and wearing his hood.
"Oh geez, I'm so sorry," I say, rushing to help, but he gets up before I can get to him.
"It's fine," he says, not bothering to turn back. He wipes his hands on his pants and keeps walking.
I look down at the ground at where he fell and notice a solved Rubik's Cube with more dimensions than I can bother to count.
"Wait!" I say, picking up the cube and briskly walking after him. He turns around, his head down. "I think you dropped this."
Saying nothing, he takes it, stares at it for a moment, and then walks away. "Thank you. For everything."
As he crosses the street, leaving me in a state of confusion, there is a sudden rush of cold air that blows off my hat. I quickly run to pick it up, shaking the wet snow off of it, and I look back at the man, whose hood has blown off. I stare in disbelief at long white locks whipping in the wind.
"Near?" I say as he reaches the other end of the street. My eyes widening, this time I shout. "Near?"
The man begins to turn to look at me, but before I can see his face, a truck goes by. Once it passes, he's gone.
Thank you. For everything.
"It looks like Harrowing was right," I say with a laugh. I feel my eyes begin to water, but I'm not sad. Actually... I'm happy. Four words have never meant so much to me, and as the door of the café opens, followed by the sound of Joy and Lacey bickering over Lacey's wedding dress, I smile.
Twenty minutes ago, I would have told you the same thing that I had at the beginning of my story: that I want a normal, happy life. My life is happy, and it's definitely not normal. But I wouldn't want it any other way.
"Piper, are you ready to go?"
I turn to look at the three women whom I can remember clearly as the girls I had first met them as, and I smile.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I say.
"Good," Joy says.
"Piper, ye should give an opinion of Lacey's tablecloth-dress or this argument is never going to end," Harrowing remarks.
"It ain't a blooming tablecloth!" Lacey says angrily.
"Let's just get going," I say with a laugh as I turn away from them.
"You can't avoid the subject forever, Piper!" Lacey calls after me.
As the four of us walk away, I can see May hugging Birdie. I can see Mello trying to avoid Lacey. Allison and Joy bickering as always. Matt sitting in the background, ignoring it all as he plays his handheld video game.
And now I see a flash of long, white hair. I hear his thanks echoing in the back of my mind.
You wanted a happy ending, and I am happy. I can't tell you any more because what happens next has yet to come. I'm happy, and as I imagine Near turning to look back at me, I smile. I get the feeling that my story is far from over.