The Metropolis Series #2: Quinn Beyond Bounds
12. Yukine

“WHY DO YOU HAVE her notebook?” I asked.

“I promise to explain everything,” Julio simply replied.

The boy gave us awkward looks like he was walking in on the wrong conversation. He placed Harumi’s notebook on the table and began scooting out of his seat. “Okay, well, if you need me—”

Julio glared daggers at him. “Stay.”

Takahiro groaned.

Julio then sat at the table. “Aren’t you going to sit down?” he asked me.

I begrudgingly took my seat. “Fine, but you guys better tell me what’s going on.”

Julio started off with the introductions so that Takahiro and I would officially know each other—it was really awkward, though. Takahiro had this shy demeanor that I related to. He merely waved timidly at me and spoke in a monotone voice, and because Julio was so serious for most of the conversation, it just made everything much more uncomfortable.

“Takahiro,” Julio began. “What have you picked up so far?”

Takahiro frowned, and he gingerly browsed through Harumi’s notebook like it was an unfinished assignment he was too afraid to turn in. “Not much,” he admitted. “They’re just full of girly stuff that I couldn’t even look at. Why are you making me do this again?”

“There’s just something I need to know.” Julio drummed his fingers on the table. “I’d read the notebook myself, but I don’t know any Japanese.”

“I’m not your translator, okay?”

“Just give me a sample of what you’ve read so far—”

“Um… Julio?” I was beginning to feel uneasy. What did Julio want from a girl’s notebook?

“Trust me, Quinn,” he said. “It’s for the best that you know.”

Takahiro raised his voice. “But we aren’t even sure if—”

“Please,” Julio scolded. “Just tell me what the notebook says.”

Takahiro picked up the notebook and carefully turned to a page.

“In the Metropolis, I had met a lot of interesting people,” he read aloud. He had his English translations in pencil on the side of the page. “However, I know that the Author only loves a few of them, and you can tell by the way these chosen ones stand out among a sea of many others; they are the melody while everything else sounds monotonous.”

Silence overcame our table, and all I could do was stare at the leather notebook in Takahiro’s hands.

“Oh my God,” I said. “Those are Harumi’s words? She’s a pretty good writer.”

“Of course, my rough English translations don’t do anything good to it,” Takahiro sighed.

“And she’s been keeping this from you for all this time?” Julio leaned back in his chair, seemingly satisfied with himself. “Why did she lie?”

“She didn’t lie, Julio,” I pressed. “It’s a diary. They’re supposed to be secret.”

“But why did she tell you it was a school notebook in the first place?”

I didn’t know how to answer. I mean, it was great that Harumi wrote, but why did a part of me feel… betrayed? What was she hiding from me?

“Go on, Takahiro,” Julio urged.

Takahiro cleared his throat. “I never thought that I would come back here, and to be honest, I never had any plans to. I am only here because I found someone, but she wasn’t exactly who I was looking for. If my memory serves me right, I first heard her name in the middle of June. We happened to be eating at the same restaurant one afternoon. She was having lunch with this lady…”

As Takahiro spoke, his voice grew more distant. It was like he was reading me a bedtime story and he was putting me to sleep. My eyelids grew heavy, and my mind went blank as everything around me became dark.

And all of a sudden, I was no longer at The MacGuffin.

▶▶

It was now daytime, probably around noon, and nothing but the soft clangs of utensils, hushed conversations, and a hint of piano music could be heard in the background. There was an elderly man at a nearby table reading the newspaper, and on the front cover, the month read June.

“Aren’t you excited, Quintana?” a voice said.

Not a lot of people called me by my real name (which you all now know about), and those who did were either really distant relatives or my parents.

I looked to where the voice had come from.

“Mom…” I mused.

Her hair was long and brown, just like mine, but she always held herself up gracefully, a trait I didn’t inherit. (I mean, she managed to cut her steak without having it slide off the table. How did she do that?) She also often dressed like there was a semi-formal occasion, and on that particular day, she had pearls around her neck. She wore a blue blouse she had bought from that brand new department store and a good pair of slacks.

Yup, Vanessa Vasquez was a classy woman.

I was looking at myself from months ago when my mom had taken me to lunch on the last day of summer vacation. I couldn’t believe that I was all excited to live a life on my own. My parents had just gotten me a dorm on campus, which was a strange move given their overprotective background, but I was too excited to ask what changed their mind.

“It’s your first day of school tomorrow,” my mom continued. “I’m an alumnus of St. John’s myself. That school will do wonders for you.”

I remembered this particular conversation. My mom had been talking about how great her days were at St. John’s, and how delighted she was that she’d be sharing a piece of her with me.

“It’s just—” I had chuckled. “Wow, mom. A life on my own? It’s amazing how you convinced Dad that it was such a good idea.”

You see, Dad had been the reason why I hadn’t transferred to St. John’s as soon as I hoped. He didn’t like the idea of me being shipped away to some boarding school that was a stretch of highway away from them.

“Well, I realized that it will teach you how to be responsible, how to manage things on your own,” Mom said. “He’s still rather reluctant about it, but I think the word responsibility got him all up for it.”

She laughed, and I had, too. Nervously.

“But isn’t St. John’s pretty expensive?” I then asked.

“We just want the best for you, Quintana,” Mom replied. She would say that every time she and Dad enrolled me in a new school, another private, secular institution they could replace in the city.

I could only nod—just like all those other times.

“But remember,” Mom firmly added, “you can only have outings in groups, not alone with a boy.”

Whoops, broke that one.

“You can’t ride in their cars, either.”

Yup, broke that one, too.

“Yes, Mom, I get it,” I had said. “No boys.”

“Well, that isn’t what I mean, exactly. If you do replace someone interesting, give me a call.”

“Seriously?”

She nodded. “I can’t stop you from growing up forever, Quintana.”

“Well, what would Dad say?”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. Until the time comes, I’ll keep it a secret from your father.”

In case you were wondering, I didn’t tell my mom about Curtis. Aside from the fact that he had a girlfriend and that it was just a crush that I thought would go away, there were a few more complications that went along with it.

My mom’s sister ran away with a foreign man, and it didn’t end well.

My mom and I (well, me from a few months ago) continued to eat our lunch in silence. I was looking at one of those moments where I had been genuinely happy, and I wondered when I was going to feel something like that again.

Then, I thought to myself: If Harumi had described this day in her notebook, then she must have been here, too.

I looked around, but I saw no familiar face in the crowd. The closest person I could replace to Harumi was a girl with long, dark hair cascading down her shoulders. She wore a pastel-colored cardigan over what looked like a white summer dress. Round glasses were placed atop her eyes, and she looked eerily at me with a stoic look on her face.

“Quinn…” I heard a voice call.

I gasped, and I was suddenly back at The MacGuffin.

“Quinn, are you okay?” Julio asked. “You seemed to kinda lose it for a while there.”

“You were staring into blank space,” Takahiro said. He turned to Julio. “Does she do that often?”

I was in a daze. I didn’t really know what to say to these guys about the weird visions I occasionally get; besides, I was already a sporadic time traveler. Thankfully, Ms. Louise had arrived and placed our orders on the table before any progression with the conversation could begin.

“Here we go,” she said. “So that will be one hot chocolate, one double espresso, one grilled cheese sandwich, and a little surprise from me to the prodigal son.”

Julio’s surprise was wrapped in aluminum foil, and Ms. Louise had a smug look on her face when she set his plate in front of him. In turn, Julio looked at Ms. Louise suspiciously. He unwrapped his dinner to replace banana bread under the foil.

The previous night, I had seen a vision that looked like Julio and Rachael’s first meeting. Julio had just moved into a new town with his sister, Viv, and Rachael welcomed them with some home-baked banana bread.

His surprise order saddened him, indeed.

Takahiro looked appalled. He gave Ms. Louise a dirty look like he was telling her that she wasn’t helping.

“In exchange,” Ms. Louise continued. “I’ll take one Takahiro.” She grabbed the boy by the back of his collar.

“Let go of me, Ms. Louise,” Takahiro scoffed.

“It’s seven o’clock, young man. It’s time for your shift.”

“Actually, Ms. Louise,” Julio cleared his throat. “Takahiro promises to take a double shift so that he can excuse himself from this one.”

“What?!” Takahiro exclaimed. “No I didn’t—”

“If you don’t mind, he and I have some unfinished business to settle.”

Takahiro looked at Julio with an utterly mortified expression as Ms. Louise pursed her lips.

“Alright, fine,” she agreed.

“Ms. Louiiiiiiiise—” Takahiro complained, his voice slightly squeaking.

“I’ll you see in the morning, Coffee Boy.” And Ms. Louise went back to the counter.

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbled. He then shot Julio an annoyed expression. “And who cares if this Harumi girl is Yukine? What difference would it make?”

“Wait, Yukine?” I asked. I turned to Julio. “Who’s that?”

“She was on our division—with Cassandra,” Julio said. His expression turned grave. “Before she escaped into the Metropolis, that is…”