月の下で [2]
In the Moonlight © aicchan
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When he opened his eyes, the bright light of the lamp on the ceiling greeted him. He had to lift his hand to block it, and that was when he realized that his arm had been bandaged. It wasn't necessary, but whoever had done it for him certainly didn't know about his real identity.
"You're awake?"
He turned around and a man clad in police uniform--white shirt, black tie, police badge, black pants, holster--came into his line of view. He had long hair with the color of night's blue. His eyes were gentle yet firm, reflecting his personality. He took notice of the insignia on the man's uniform, finding himself mildly surprised to learn of his rank--five stars; he would either be a Chief of Department or Police Commissioner. Either way, his face seemed to be too young to be someone of such high rank. He would've point it out as a question, if only he didn't remember that he was supposed to be a sick person and a victim of some gangster attack.
"Yes," he faked a weak tone. "You were... the one who saved me before?"
"Me and my brother, yes." The man laughed softly as he approached the place where he lied down--a couch, situated close to a tall bookcase and a low table. "Can you get up?"
He nodded weakly before raising himself up into a sitting position, slowly and carefully like a weak person he tried to be seen as. Now that he was in a more fitting position to look around, he realized that he was in some sort of office although he was firmly certain that it couldn't be the Chief's office; it was a bit small, like a private office used to host private businesses. Bookcases were lined up against the wall, filled with books and archives. On a cabinet was a coffee maker, and situated close to it was a stack of emptied take-out boxes. At the far end of the room was a table, recognized as the one used by the owner of the office to do his works thanks for the existence of a mess of paper and files.
When he heard another soft laugh, he knew he had been observing the place way too long. "Sorry it's kind of a mess. My brother isn't exactly the type who can keep his place neat."
He shook his head to express that he didn't mind. He saw a place with a much worse situation than this. Then there was a brief silence where he tried to decide what to do, which he broke by performing namaste--pressing his hands together with fingers pointed upwards and lightly bowing.
"Thank you for saving me before. My name is Asmita, and I hailed from India."
"India?" The Chief seemed surprised. Probably because he never met an Indian with skin so fair and hair the color of daffodil. Asmita smiled in amusement.
"I may have Indian-ish name and came from that country before I settled in here, but I, by no means, are pure Indian. Before I lived in India, I used to live in Tibet, Greece, Norway, and numerous other European countries. My parents were Buddhist, however, so that might be why they gave me this name."
The words rolled off his tongue in perfect fluency. He had used such excuse for many occasions, after all.
"I see. So you moved here along with your parents?"
"No. They died six months ago."
Asmita saw the slight change of expression on the other's face. There was again surprise, mixed with sympathy and... loneliness?
"I'm sorry," he muttered. Before Asmita could say 'it's fine', though, he continued on. "I haven't introduced myself, have I? You can call me-"
"ASPROS!"
The sound of the door being harshly slammed open and stomping footsteps averted their attention from each other to the entrance of the office. Asmita saw an clone of the Chief entered, plastic bags in both hands.
"I told you not to lock the door, didn't I? Seriously!" He put the bags down on the table and looked up, intending to glare at Aspros, but then he noticed that Asmita had woke up. "Oh, you're awake. Are you fine now? You slept pretty soundly, I thought you were dead."
"Defteros, be nice!" Although Aspros threw dagger glares at his younger twin, the other man simply ignored it. Turning his attention back at Asmita, he smiled apologetically and said, "Well, now that you've heard him, you can call me Aspros. He's Defteros, a private detective and the owner of this detective office. I'm sorry, he's always this rude toward strangers. He's just shy, I tell you."
Just as he finished his sentence, Defteros linked an arm around Aspros's neck, playfully strangling him. "You're calling me shy yet you were the one who couldn't confess your love to your crush and end up letting said crush go for someone else!"
"That's not because I'm too shy to be honest with myself. I just know that it won't work."
"Says the person who usually will never give up in achieving anything that he desires."
The siblings continued their banter, seemingly had forgotten Asmita's existence in the room. But it gave him time to observe the two. Aspros and Defteros, in terms of appearance, were like the exact copy of each other, with the exception of their skin color. Aspros has fair skin, though one might say that he's slightly tan—something that couldn't be avoided in his line of work—while Defteros is completely tan, from head to toe. And as they speak, Asmita could see that Aspros's teeth were perfectly white and neatly lined. Defteros's set of cuspi were longer than ordinary people, cause him to sort of look like a cat... or a vampire.
He tried to find other differences from the men, but found himself unable to as strange sensation surged within himself when he realized that he was staring at Defteros longer than he did to Aspros. The same nostalgic-like feeling that he recalled experiencing before he blacked out. It was so unlike any other kind of feelings that he had before, so he couldn't quite define what he felt.
Although he had his guesses...
"Ah, sorry for arguing in front of you."
That snapped Asmita out of his reverie. The twin had settled down on a couch just opposite of his. Defteros were taking out boxes from the plastic bags that he carried earlier as Aspros spoke, "You must've been pretty hungry, after fainting out and not taking anything in for hours. Let's eat these, then I'll take you to your place."
"You don't have to—" he started, but was cut short with the detective shoving a box and spoon into his hands.
"Don't just refuse and waste the money, effort, and time I spent to get these," he said, opening his own. Apparently, all three boxes contained the same dish—shrimp fried rice. Judging from the box shape, it was takeouts of a nearby Chinese restaurant.
Aspros's eyebrows shot up. "When I told you to buy some foods for us to eat, I was referring to clubhouse sandwiches or other easier to eat, light flavored dishes."
"You should just go on your own, then." Defteros retorted.
"Right. I should've remember not to trust you on this kind of thing." The older of the two, once again, smiled apologetically at Asmita. "I'm sorry. It's fine if you don't want to eat it, since it's spicy and all—"
He surprised them by actually spooning himself some of the fried rice and chewing it down his throat. Spoons by spoons, quietly in a quick manner. It was as if he was so intent on it. He caught, from the corner of his eyes, that Defteros was smirking in amusement at him while he also dug on his own portion. It caused strange fluttering feeling at the bottom of his stomach, yet his pace didn't falter. Aspros, seeing that their guest appear to not be troubled by his brother's bad sense of humor, decided to fetch glasses of water for the two.
Both Asmita and Defteros finished their meals at the same time and gratefully gulped down the water that Aspros brought for them.
"It's my first time eating Chinese dish. I didn't think it would be that delicious," Asmita commented as he set his glass down. "But I think Indian kind of spiciness us much more delicious."
"Indian? We tried their dishes once, but it was bad and we kind of traumatized."
"Your opinion of Indian cuisine will change when you try our place's menu."
Aspros stopped spooning his portion of fried rice into his mouth and stared at Asmita in awe. "Your place? Are you saying that you own an Indian restaurant?"
The blond smiled thinly and shook his head. "I wish, but I'm just one of the employees there."
"Still, you shamelessly promoted the place where you worked at." There was a hint of amusement in Defteros tone. "Your first impression didn't give off this kind of vibe. I'm surprised. And I'm usually good at judging someone's nature based on the first impression I got from them."
Asmita went silent at that. He did realize that he behaved unlike his usual self and spending more and more time in this place, talking to the younger of the twin brothers before him, made realization slowly sunk in him. He had a guess why, but wouldn't be completely sure before he consulted to his acquaintance, who was far more adept in this field—in the subject of emotions.
Then they heard quiet tune, which got Aspros to stop eating and start looking for something. Finding where it was, he fetched out his cellphone from his pants pocket and flipped it open to answer the call. "Yes, Cid? What is it?" He put down his spoon and rose from his seat, absentmindedly walking away from Asmita and Defteros though it wasn't necessary—they won't be able to understand his conversation with, apparently, his fellow officer, unless he explained.
"Ah, that. Yeah, my bad... I'm at my brother's place anyway, so I can get there quick. Yeah. See you there." He flipped close his cellphone and turned to look at Asmita again. "Where is your place, Asmita?"
"Rego Park. It's alright, I can take bus to go home."
"I'll get him to the bus stop." Defteros interrupted before Aspros could say anything. "I need to start working on a case anyway. You go do your duties and avoid Cid's yells. Simple as that."
Aspros laughed briefly, then nodded although he seemed reluctant. "If you say so, then. Sorry I can't finish it," he eyed the fried rice that he hadn't even eat half of it, "I'll get you something if you haven't dine, later."
"If I haven't dine, sure," the younger brother muttered after his twin ran out of the office and closed the door behind him. He heaved a sigh and took the boxes off the table, adding them to the already tall stack of to-be-thrown-out boxes. He gave Asmita a quick glance as he strode toward the entrance and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go."
.
When he opened his eyes, the bright light of the lamp on the ceiling greeted him. He had to lift his hand to block it, and that was when he realized that his arm had been bandaged. It wasn't necessary, but whoever had done it for him certainly didn't know about his real identity.
"You're awake?"
He turned around and a man clad in police uniform--white shirt, black tie, police badge, black pants, holster--came into his line of view. He had long hair with the color of night's blue. His eyes were gentle yet firm, reflecting his personality. He took notice of the insignia on the man's uniform, finding himself mildly surprised to learn of his rank--five stars; he would either be a Chief of Department or Police Commissioner. Either way, his face seemed to be too young to be someone of such high rank. He would've point it out as a question, if only he didn't remember that he was supposed to be a sick person and a victim of some gangster attack.
"Yes," he faked a weak tone. "You were... the one who saved me before?"
"Me and my brother, yes." The man laughed softly as he approached the place where he lied down--a couch, situated close to a tall bookcase and a low table. "Can you get up?"
He nodded weakly before raising himself up into a sitting position, slowly and carefully like a weak person he tried to be seen as. Now that he was in a more fitting position to look around, he realized that he was in some sort of office although he was firmly certain that it couldn't be the Chief's office; it was a bit small, like a private office used to host private businesses. Bookcases were lined up against the wall, filled with books and archives. On a cabinet was a coffee maker, and situated close to it was a stack of emptied take-out boxes. At the far end of the room was a table, recognized as the one used by the owner of the office to do his works thanks for the existence of a mess of paper and files.
When he heard another soft laugh, he knew he had been observing the place way too long. "Sorry it's kind of a mess. My brother isn't exactly the type who can keep his place neat."
He shook his head to express that he didn't mind. He saw a place with a much worse situation than this. Then there was a brief silence where he tried to decide what to do, which he broke by performing namaste--pressing his hands together with fingers pointed upwards and lightly bowing.
"Thank you for saving me before. My name is Asmita, and I hailed from India."
"India?" The Chief seemed surprised. Probably because he never met an Indian with skin so fair and hair the color of daffodil. Asmita smiled in amusement.
"I may have Indian-ish name and came from that country before I settled in here, but I, by no means, are pure Indian. Before I lived in India, I used to live in Tibet, Greece, Norway, and numerous other European countries. My parents were Buddhist, however, so that might be why they gave me this name."
The words rolled off his tongue in perfect fluency. He had used such excuse for many occasions, after all.
"I see. So you moved here along with your parents?"
"No. They died six months ago."
Asmita saw the slight change of expression on the other's face. There was again surprise, mixed with sympathy and... loneliness?
"I'm sorry," he muttered. Before Asmita could say 'it's fine', though, he continued on. "I haven't introduced myself, have I? You can call me-"
"ASPROS!"
The sound of the door being harshly slammed open and stomping footsteps averted their attention from each other to the entrance of the office. Asmita saw an clone of the Chief entered, plastic bags in both hands.
"I told you not to lock the door, didn't I? Seriously!" He put the bags down on the table and looked up, intending to glare at Aspros, but then he noticed that Asmita had woke up. "Oh, you're awake. Are you fine now? You slept pretty soundly, I thought you were dead."
"Defteros, be nice!" Although Aspros threw dagger glares at his younger twin, the other man simply ignored it. Turning his attention back at Asmita, he smiled apologetically and said, "Well, now that you've heard him, you can call me Aspros. He's Defteros, a private detective and the owner of this detective office. I'm sorry, he's always this rude toward strangers. He's just shy, I tell you."
Just as he finished his sentence, Defteros linked an arm around Aspros's neck, playfully strangling him. "You're calling me shy yet you were the one who couldn't confess your love to your crush and end up letting said crush go for someone else!"
"That's not because I'm too shy to be honest with myself. I just know that it won't work."
"Says the person who usually will never give up in achieving anything that he desires."
The siblings continued their banter, seemingly had forgotten Asmita's existence in the room. But it gave him time to observe the two. Aspros and Defteros, in terms of appearance, were like the exact copy of each other, with the exception of their skin color. Aspros has fair skin, though one might say that he's slightly tan—something that couldn't be avoided in his line of work—while Defteros is completely tan, from head to toe. And as they speak, Asmita could see that Aspros's teeth were perfectly white and neatly lined. Defteros's set of cuspi were longer than ordinary people, cause him to sort of look like a cat... or a vampire.
He tried to find other differences from the men, but found himself unable to as strange sensation surged within himself when he realized that he was staring at Defteros longer than he did to Aspros. The same nostalgic-like feeling that he recalled experiencing before he blacked out. It was so unlike any other kind of feelings that he had before, so he couldn't quite define what he felt.
Although he had his guesses...
"Ah, sorry for arguing in front of you."
That snapped Asmita out of his reverie. The twin had settled down on a couch just opposite of his. Defteros were taking out boxes from the plastic bags that he carried earlier as Aspros spoke, "You must've been pretty hungry, after fainting out and not taking anything in for hours. Let's eat these, then I'll take you to your place."
"You don't have to—" he started, but was cut short with the detective shoving a box and spoon into his hands.
"Don't just refuse and waste the money, effort, and time I spent to get these," he said, opening his own. Apparently, all three boxes contained the same dish—shrimp fried rice. Judging from the box shape, it was takeouts of a nearby Chinese restaurant.
Aspros's eyebrows shot up. "When I told you to buy some foods for us to eat, I was referring to clubhouse sandwiches or other easier to eat, light flavored dishes."
"You should just go on your own, then." Defteros retorted.
"Right. I should've remember not to trust you on this kind of thing." The older of the two, once again, smiled apologetically at Asmita. "I'm sorry. It's fine if you don't want to eat it, since it's spicy and all—"
He surprised them by actually spooning himself some of the fried rice and chewing it down his throat. Spoons by spoons, quietly in a quick manner. It was as if he was so intent on it. He caught, from the corner of his eyes, that Defteros was smirking in amusement at him while he also dug on his own portion. It caused strange fluttering feeling at the bottom of his stomach, yet his pace didn't falter. Aspros, seeing that their guest appear to not be troubled by his brother's bad sense of humor, decided to fetch glasses of water for the two.
Both Asmita and Defteros finished their meals at the same time and gratefully gulped down the water that Aspros brought for them.
"It's my first time eating Chinese dish. I didn't think it would be that delicious," Asmita commented as he set his glass down. "But I think Indian kind of spiciness us much more delicious."
"Indian? We tried their dishes once, but it was bad and we kind of traumatized."
"Your opinion of Indian cuisine will change when you try our place's menu."
Aspros stopped spooning his portion of fried rice into his mouth and stared at Asmita in awe. "Your place? Are you saying that you own an Indian restaurant?"
The blond smiled thinly and shook his head. "I wish, but I'm just one of the employees there."
"Still, you shamelessly promoted the place where you worked at." There was a hint of amusement in Defteros tone. "Your first impression didn't give off this kind of vibe. I'm surprised. And I'm usually good at judging someone's nature based on the first impression I got from them."
Asmita went silent at that. He did realize that he behaved unlike his usual self and spending more and more time in this place, talking to the younger of the twin brothers before him, made realization slowly sunk in him. He had a guess why, but wouldn't be completely sure before he consulted to his acquaintance, who was far more adept in this field—in the subject of emotions.
Then they heard quiet tune, which got Aspros to stop eating and start looking for something. Finding where it was, he fetched out his cellphone from his pants pocket and flipped it open to answer the call. "Yes, Cid? What is it?" He put down his spoon and rose from his seat, absentmindedly walking away from Asmita and Defteros though it wasn't necessary—they won't be able to understand his conversation with, apparently, his fellow officer, unless he explained.
"Ah, that. Yeah, my bad... I'm at my brother's place anyway, so I can get there quick. Yeah. See you there." He flipped close his cellphone and turned to look at Asmita again. "Where is your place, Asmita?"
"Rego Park. It's alright, I can take bus to go home."
"I'll get him to the bus stop." Defteros interrupted before Aspros could say anything. "I need to start working on a case anyway. You go do your duties and avoid Cid's yells. Simple as that."
Aspros laughed briefly, then nodded although he seemed reluctant. "If you say so, then. Sorry I can't finish it," he eyed the fried rice that he hadn't even eat half of it, "I'll get you something if you haven't dine, later."
"If I haven't dine, sure," the younger brother muttered after his twin ran out of the office and closed the door behind him. He heaved a sigh and took the boxes off the table, adding them to the already tall stack of to-be-thrown-out boxes. He gave Asmita a quick glance as he strode toward the entrance and said, "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's go."
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