Komorebi

[Mel Rose]

Haze shrugged. "Don't piss off the wrong people enough to make them want to hire me and we should be good. Take care!" she waved and turned away, dragging on the cowl's hood to shield her head and eyes from the afternoon sun. She enjoyed walking around cities, even ones as ugly as this one.

The Intercontinental was a brisk, fifteen-minute walk away. She booked a single room for the night through the OSC app on her PAD and requested a luggage carrier from her ship to the hotel. Done with chores, she spent the rest of the way thinking about Olivia and the impression she made on her.

Clearly there was something about the girl that left a lasting impression. Perhaps it was some kind of false innocence, perhaps the fake — she assumed it fake, at least — confidence. Perhaps she cared about her because she saw a little of her own younger self in her. An irrational feeling of protectiveness went over her, for some reason.

It was a sad fate, the fate of a bounty hunter. She wondered what would the twenty-year-old Jennifer think of present-day Haze now. Probably that she was awesome and badass. She might as well have been the fulfillment of a twenties-Haze dreams. But the present-day Haze thought that she wasted her life. A husband, a couple of kids, a cottage on Cambridge. That would be what she would have chosen. Instead, all she got was no fulfillment, no legacy, no companionship. Just credits, death, destruction, thievery and vagabond lifestyle.

The protectiveness towards Sable still felt irrational, but at least now it was partly explained. If Haze had decided to have kids when it had been appropriate, they would probably be just a bit younger than Olivia. Was that it? She considered it for a minute, before letting the thought go. It mattered very little.

The New Tokyo sun started turning orange as afternoon started turning into evening. She stood before the glassy, modern exterior of the Intercontinental.

Haze sighed. Tomorrow would be her fiftieth birthday.

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Jennifer Haze Does Not Exist :: Filing Cabinet :: Swords into Plowshares
Liminality :: Good in Red :: Past to Present :: Fish of the Sea