Same Old, Same Old…

The world, Syor decided, looks far more interesting if she sees things horizontally. For example the way the blades of the ceiling fan were slicing the air, or the way how she could see people’s molars while they were yawning their lust to sleep out with the exhaustively boring lecture in the background. Tilting her head she saw the professor’s bald head glistening under the lights.
“Way brighter than my future,” she mused and started to trace her pen along the pages of the notebook as letters formed words and so on. Shifting her position a little she looked the other way, saw a familiar figure on her side. First the hands,  one of them which was furiously jotting down whatever the professor was talking about, another one tapping the chin. Then the Adams apple fixed on a pale neck, the jaw. Looking upwards she saw a pair of attentive large eyes under a pair of dark rimmed glasses, slightly hidden beneath  his dark curls.
Lastly the hair. The thick, permy hair.
His hair and eyes were the things that caught her eyes the most. Large glassy eyes and that permy hair. An unusual combination.
Rolling the pen twice in her fingers she stretched her hand out to the back of his head, and gently pushed her pen in his dark curls.

Ridiculously enough, the pen was comfortably set, curled in dark strands.
Feeling encouraged, she put another pen in, then a hair pin borrowed from another girl. All the while with her head on her desk, cause it’d be uncool to get caught.
“Woo,” she commented as the people around her tried to stifle their snickering.
“The hell are you doing?”
 She saw Asahi looking down at her, clearly unimpressed.
“Seeing things from a different angle,” she answered as if it was the most natural thing to do.
“I see. And what does that have to do with turning my hair into a Christmas tree?”
“I’m bored,” she flatly answered, “and it’s fun.”
“It’s fun,” he mimicked her through his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to get reprimanded by the professor so he swiftly got the annoying things stuck in his hair and lightly punched Syor’s cheek.
“Quit it, retard.”
“Bleh. Spoilsport,” this time she was unimpressed. Bored, she shifted her attention to Adora, the girl whose  hairpin she borrowed, and started playing with her long hair.
Same old, same old…
Clicking his tongue, Asahi was about to go back to what he was doing which was being a proper student,  before he spotted her notebook.
“What’s this?” he whispered as he pulled it towards him.
“Hmm? Just some shit I came up with,” she yawned after finishing making a plait in Adora’s hair.
Asahi eyed through the pages, as usual class materials were almost non existent (how she is still good that’s almost a mystery). Instead the pages were filled with doodles and of course scribbles.
Stories. Poems. Haikus.
Made a deal with the devil, and the devil was Sloth. 
“Where does she come up with these?” he questioned  as he eyed the girl now dozing off.
“I guess we will be using this now.”
Mischievous and bizarre, that’s how he’d describe her. Someone, who knew how to play with words.
“I will add some more. Ara was saying they’ll grab a bite after this. Wanna go?”  she mumbled with her face on the desk.
“Yeah sure.”
“Oya. That solo… you know, the one ya gave me yesterday. The one with the crazy riffs. I was thinking this might go with it,” she said.
“Really? I could increase the tempo. It would go with the feel of the song,” he commented.
“Whatever you think is good, I just want it to sound nice,” she said,
“Is that a challenge?”
“Nah. A request.”
“I’ll do my best. In return, Sy. No rhymes that sound like grotesque murder threats.”
“Sure, sure,” She grinned. Although she knew that he didn’t have to do his best. After all, each time he took his guitar in his hands, it was pure bliss.
“That’s all for today,” she heard the professor leave.
“Whew. Glad that ordeal is over,” Syor commented.
“I’m sorry, I thought that was supposed to be said by those who actually attended the class,” a boy called Roku retorted.
“Here. Here.”
“But I was attending you know… busy sleeping, that’s all,” Syor shrugged, as the students made out of the classroom.
“We all know what you were doing,” Roku laughed as he showed her a cell phone screen. It was Asahi’s, as she saw herself sleeping with her face on the desk, mouth slightly ajar and her pen was poking her cheek. Not a very graceful scene.
“Why do you do this man?” she groaned.
“You still have sleeping marks on yo face,”  Roku barked but soon his grin was wiped from his face when he saw his own picture of yawning with his tongue out.
Presenting,  Asahi’s deadly candids. A collection of snaps that Asahi took without a hint of warning, often containing the most embarrassing situations.
“Haha. No.” Asahi deadpanned,  as he snatched his phone back. “Shit, I’m almost out of battery.”
This time it was Syor who was laughing.
“Take that, bitch.”
“Shut up.”
“We gotta submit that paper on course 2.1, so we’ll be going to the library first. Want to come?” Adora asked.
“Oh That. Cuck. I almost forgot!” Roku exclaimed.
“I already submitted it” said Syor.
“You little runt. When did ya do it?”
“A while ago.”
“Same here,” Asahi responded, “How about you guys submit it first,  then give me a call. I need to charge my phone.”
“Okay then. We’ll call you.”
They were walking through the balcony  infront of the classrooms. The weather was nice and it was an excellent time to hang out or to write perhaps, Syor thought. The smell of rain was in the air and breeze rustled her greyish hair. She saw Asahi flipping his bag  and rummaging through it’s contents, possibly trying to get his charger out.
“Aza,” she called and jumped on him,  sinking her nails through his dark curls, ruffling his hair.
“Aw. Naw. Stop it.”
“Nein,” she said.
“You’re ruining my hair!”
“Bullshit. Your hair is perfectly fine.”
“Hah. As if you’d know the pain of having this perm,” he sighed as he felt her fingers massaging his scalp.
“What? It’s nice,”  she was well aware of his complex over his permy hair. That, and the fact that he was jealous of her own silky straight hair over which she has no affection what so ever.
“If had your ones I would’ve had this long ponytail,” he told her. “It would’ve felt great to headbang.”
“Yes, it does feel great to headbang,” Syor commented as she run her hand through his curls.
Asahi frowned and gently took her hand off his hair. Then he slid his hand under hers, interlocking her fingers with his larger ones. And stayed like that for a while before letting go.
It was a rather funny way of stopping her from touching his curls though, Syor thought. Then again she was aware that he didn’t like it much and he used to smack her hands off in the past. The fact that he wasn’t completely rejecting her now did make her a little happy.
So she grinned.
Same old, same old…
“We’ll be going now,” she heard Adora from the stairway.
“Aye,” she said as she started to march forward before she felt a tap on the shoulder.
“I gotta charge my phone. You submitted the paper,  right? Mind waiting a little?” Asahi asked.
“Ah. Sure.”
She followed Asahi inside an empty classroom. As he plugged his charger inside the socket Syor dropped her bag on a bench and looked around. Abandoned benches infront them a half erased political terminology on the blackboard,  some broken pieces of chalks, an overturned duster. Open windows, a few leaves from the tree infront of the building were poking the window bars. Light was passing through and she saw dust particles glitter in it like some unearthly beings.
It was peaceful.
“We’ll wait till it hits the double digit,” she heard Asahi.
“So… what’re you up to these days?” Asahi asked as he worked on his phone.
“Hmm? Nothing much to be honest. Just a short story,  maybe I’ll turn it into a comic. Hah. Though getting it published would be a lot of work.” she sighed.
“Do let me read it. “
“Sure. What about you?”
“Well, I went to a jamming session yesterday. Going to participate on a music workshop next week.”
“Won’t that take some practice as well?” she asked.
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it,” he beamed.
“Look at his face,” Syor thought, “He’s elated.” She laughed.
“When are we sitting then?” she heard him ask.
She smiled, “Can’t wait, huh? How about tomorrow?  I’ll edit ’em today.”
One who was skilled with the pen.
Another who was skilled with the instrument.
Both of them having a certain forte of their own. Yet they had emptiness of their own.
Asahi lifted himself on one of the writing desk.
“Sy, come over here.”
“What?”  she saw him offering his hand.
“Let’s play guessing.”
“Huh?” she asked, confused.
“Give me your hand”.
She complied.
Asahi took her hand and gently traced along her palm, forming letters with each stroke.
“S.. wait do it again.” Syor told him.
He obliged.
“S, H..” suddenly she snorted.” Shit?!”
Asahi snickered.
“Okay my turn,” Syor took Asahi’s hand in her hands, she wondered what she’d give him.
Then she traced along his palm, not too softly nor the opposite.
“D..E.. Den?” Asahi asked.
Syor nodded.
“Why den?”
“Dunno. Maybe I’d like one myself.”
“Suites you, hermit… wait you’re more like an animal.”
“I know right?” she laughed.
It wasn’t totally untrue, she was wild like an animal, someone who’d give a rat’s arse about regulations or discipline. She also was a little reclusive like a hermit.
It wasn’t as if she disliked people or the fact that she was unfriendly. She was one of the most friendliest person one could find. It was kind of like this, she was one of those people who’d be among a whole group and be detached  from it all at the same time.
A kite with no strings.
Well it could almost be said about Asahi as well. Unlike Syor though he was social and serious. But he never got involved in anything that didn’t excite him.
He was selective .
“My turn,” he took her hand after two more rounds which included words like “pen”, “game” (with a round of ‘why are you copying me?’ from Sy and ‘wow so original’ from Aza).
So he took her palm and looked at her slender fingers, some of them had a little ink stain on them. She smelled of ink and old pages and a little bit of dirt.
He grazed his thumb over her soft but firm palm thinking how this hand will speak more truth than most of the people ever will.
Hand that gave him exactly what he desired. Messages.
So he looked at her intelligent silver eyes, eyeing him with a bit of mirth in them, thin lips forming a lop sided grin and her unkempt gray hair which often reminded him of feathers.
Asahi gently pressed his nail on her palm, grazing each letter. His hand accidentally moved so he rectified his mistake by rubbing his other hand on her palm like a duster.
“Is this a blackboard?” she laughed.
He smiled and continued.
He nodded. She did remind him of birds after all.
“Okay. My go” she took his palm in her hands staring at his long fingers and trimmed nails which turned rough due to years of guitar strumming. Firm muscles, bony fingers.
Hands that gave birth to the thing that she always loved. Music.
So she wrote on his palm.
Truth is Syor had a huge weakness for music. She loved it, every genre of it. It was one of the biggest inspirations she had on her journey as a novice writer. They drown her in the depth of the ocean. They let her soar in the sky.
They make her feel alive.
Words were written in invisible ink as two people continued their childish game.
Asahi, who burned with a passion without a voice.
Syor, who played with words but saw the world with a kind of passive apathy.
They were entirely different beings tied together with a common desire to feel complete.
Yet the atmosphere they were in… something was amiss. Was it the way how he was staring at her face as she grazed on his palm or the way she traced her fingers over his she didn’t know.
It was almost suffocating. She didn’t know why though. The weather was nice and she could hear the rustling of the leaves. So what was the problem?
“So… how long will it take?” she asked as she wrote another.
“A little longer. Care?”
“I see. Yeah,” she felt his nail drawing on her palm.
“Hug?” she mumbled, feeling a little uncomfortable. What was the matter with her?
He nodded.
Suddenly Asahi’s phone rang. In the empty classroom it echoed out loud.
“Wonder who that is?”,  she asked.
Asahi looked over her shoulder. “Forget it, it’s just the telephone operator.”
“Aww” Syor replied,  a little relieved for the interruption and listened to the tone as it died down.
“Shall we continue?”
“Sure thing.”
Syor held his hand with her both hands and wrote another word.
For she knew she’d never be the person who’d actually be involved with her surroundings. She was a person who didn’t want to be the protagonist of her own story. She was there but she was never there. A person who had everything yet nothing at the same time.
So she continued to write about the things she has seen,  the people she had seen, the world she created in her fantasies – an attempt to stay connected perhaps. But still she missed something,  and that something was sound. She wanted her creations to have a tune, something she alone couldn’t do. And she found that answer in Aza.
It was Aza’s turn now. With swift motion he wrote his word in her palm.
“What is this? Opposite words? Or do ya wanna be Snape?” Syor retorted.
Aza didn’t mention how he would always love to run his pic over his guitar strings. To create sounds that would churn people’s hearts. It was the only thing he was good at, he thought so himself.  But there was this one problem. He could only create melodies. His music had no words, no voice. It felt void. And the solution to that,  he later found in the person standing infront of him. For that he’d be grateful. Always.
Asahi’s phone rang for the second time.
“Seriously though. I really think you should check it.”
“Nah. Ignore it.  It’s the phone operator again”
It continued to ring.
“But it’s annoying, lemme reject it-”  Syor was about to get the phone when she felt a pull by the hand.
“I told you… it’s nothing.” Aza said, he sounded strange.
“Erm… okay,” she didn’t know how to respond. All she knew was that something was really off. A few people passed by the classroom. Sy didn’t know what to do, so she scratched her head.
So they played the game.
The game of invisible ink and skin.
Apathy, she wrote for she knew it all too well. Though she wasn’t sure if she could completely be apathetic to the sudden tension inside the room.
She gave her hand for Asahi to write. She felt him grabbing her hand. She felt the gentle scraping of nails, and his eyes darting towards her every two second – felt, ’cause she wasn’t looking at him anymore. It was against the rules after all. And she flushed. Which was silly, after all it was only a word right?
“Er.. Love?”
She saw him tilting his head and smiling.
That’s when she felt her phone vibrate. A message from Adora,  saying it’d take 5 minutes for them to finish.
“Ahaha…” she laughed awkwardly. “Guess we gotta go now right? Let’s move ou-” she was about to take up her bag when she felt Asahi’s grip on her hand tighten.
“Uh… Erm. Just a little longer?”
“But they-“
Aza gently trapped her hand with his both hands.
“Stay,” he whispered, his voice slightly trembling. His hair hiding his eyes.
He was a musician who craved for a message.
She was a writer who craved for a melody.
So the two of them united to quench their own desires.
What the hell was happening now?
Syor froze, to see someone like Aza like that.
Was it just her or did the room temperature just shot up?
“I-if ya say so… haha.”
So they continued the game. Just with more tension that’s all. It was embarrassing to Syor that she felt embarrassed where Asa was back to normal.
Go figure.
It was Syor’s turn now. So she took his hand and gently carved each letter on his skin.
Aza felt each of the letter with his eyes closed, after finishing he opened his eyes, his mouth shaped as an ‘o’.
“Dawn?” he whispered.
“Right you are!” Syor grinned, relishing his expression while fiddling around with his wrist.
Dawn, the very thing Asahi was named after.
Syor was still chuckling when her thumb pressed above his artery on his wrist.
And her smiled got replaced with pure awe.
It was his pulse, and it was wild.
Way higher than average.
“Um Aza, are you feeling okay?”
“Y-yeah. I am.”
Syor gave a sigh of relief and blood rushed to her cheeks again. What in the world is she thinking?  There’s no way it’s ‘that’!
So Syor chuckled at her own strange thought and slumped her head on his hand.
“It’s nothing,  it’s nothing,” she gave him her largest toothy grin as she saw another message from Adora, they were looking for them.
“Your phones good to go right?”
“I think so. Hey Sy-” Aza’s stomach growled,
“Dude, yer starving.Off we go!” Syor hollered as she threw Aza’s charger and phone at him.
“Sure, sure,” Asahi sighed.
Both of them ran out of the classroom,  raced down the staircase,  had their usual hair pulling too.
It was the same old, same old…
But something happened when they finally  reached their group.
“Where the hell were you two?! I called you like twice, Asahi!” Roku yelled.
But Aza said-
“What are you talking about? I didn’t hear a thing. Probably the phone was silent” Asahi said without batting an eye.
“Why’d ya keep it silent dang it!”
Syor stared at him with her eyes like saucers, and Asahi simply avoided her gaze and walked forward.
Not before she noticed his pale ears of course, which were bright red.
“I’m hungry,” she heard him mumble, “You comin Sy?”
Everything is still the same old, same old…



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