What if I hadn’t come to Richard’s rescue in Yoyogi Park? What if Richard bore Japan a grudge and longed for home back in England? What if Jeffrey had taken pity on him, said, “Screw the diamond,” and burned down the Claremont mansion like he once threatened? What if the future had other things in store for Richard—better things, things I couldn’t even imagine? Could I dare wish that he would throw those all away, just so that he could be with me?
This was only theoretical, of course. There was no way to turn back the clock. But what if there was? Then what horrible fate had I wreaked upon him? Just by—just by being his friend? Having Richard as a friend made me so happy, I could have died and been just fine with that. But what tragedy had I unleashed upon Richard’s life in return?
My sense of justice was, at the end of the day, self-serving.
I cracked a smile when I reached the end of my speech. I couldn’t help it. This name—Seigi, “justice,” like a hero dispensing justice—was a wish passed down to me by first my grandmother, then Hiromi. However, just as there were repercussions for any act of evil, there were consequences for any act of anything. I affected my loved ones, and that could be either good or bad. I never knew which beforehand. Either way, there was always a decision to be made. And choosing something was the same as not choosing everything else. Most people learned that life lesson in high school when choosing future career plans. Me, though, I only got the memo now. Now it sunk in harder than ever before, and there was no response to that but a smile.
“I don’t want to say, ‘I’m sorry,’ because an apology isn’t good enough. But I just…don’t know what to do instead.”
“Two things.”
“Hm?”
I looked over my shoulder to be greeted with Richard’s face and his hand holding up two fingers. A peace sign? No, of course not. If anything, he wore a frightening glare.
“There are two solutions to your current predicament, both of which are viable options at this present moment in time. One, I explain my opinion of you via words as is our habit. Or two, I express myself without words. Which would you prefer? The latter method is the more expedient of the two.”
Richard retracted his fingers. His face was so close, our noses almost bumped. His eyes were blue—not an angry blue, simply the shade of blue they turned whenever he gave me stern advice.
“…If it’s okay, I’d prefer the slower option. Your voice always makes me feel calm.”
For a moment, Richard looked offended, like he doubted I really meant it, or like he was a child receiving a gift that was pulled away at the last second. Then he looked away, muttered, “It’s probably for the best,” under his breath, and assumed his usual jeweler’s expression. Whew.
“Very well. Stand up.”
“What?”
“You asked for the slower method, did you not? Go on. We shall take a tour of the exhibits.”
Richard gestured for me to look around the room. A moment later, my breath caught in my throat. Here, at the—I guess this would have been called the heart of the museum?—the entrance had a symbol next to it indicating photography wasn’t allowed, unlike every other room up to this point. Maybe it was for security. The jewelry here was so fabulous that any thief would have been tempted, regardless of what a bad idea it was.
A necklace set with a yellow diamond so large it pushed the boundaries of wearable. A jewelry set made of diamonds and pink opaline glass. A necklace of large peridots, each of which could have been handcrafted by a god. A pavé brooch of countless sapphires in the shape of a bouquet of calla lilies. A maharaja’s necklace of cabochon rubies that looked like tasty gummy candies. An enormous amethyst talisman shaped like a snake’s head.
Had I really tried to take a depression nap in the heart of this museum of wonders?
Shooing away the disgust I felt for myself, I focused on Richard lecturing me about the gems. My guide spoke in a hushed voice as we were in public, but his eloquence and knowledge were as worthy of admiration as they ever were. This piece, he explained—an orchid tiara and matching comb—were designed by a distinguished glass artisan and exhibited at the World’s Fair. That orange stone was a fire opal, and the tiara frame was made from animal horn. This peridot choker held the story of marital strife between the English and Dutch royal families. That piece of jewelry once belonged to a maharaja and was made by a French jeweler who blended the beauty of Eastern and Western styles. With every story he told, I learned a little more.
Once we had made one round of the room, Richard asked how I felt.
I smiled wanly. “Thanks. Just by being here, I’ve fallen in love with gems harder than ever before.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“You really like the jewelry in this room, don’t you?”
“I do. I often used to visit this museum on occasional pleasure trips to London. It was always time well spent, as not every collection is on display at once.”
Richard smiled mischievously, almost like a child. He must have started coming here when he was very young. Of course, he would have grown up surrounded by jewels, thanks to his grandmother’s collection and the Claremont family gems, but that hadn’t stopped this little boy from being awestruck by the ones on display. I found that touchingly adorable.
“After all the things you told me, I have to apologize, but…”
“Yes?”
“The whole time you were talking, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
The “Oh?” Richard said by way of response carried neither surprise nor offense. There was a level of tolerance to it that all but said, “I assumed as much.” It made me choose to press my luck a little further.
“As far as I can tell, you’re the most beautiful person in the world. I can’t imagine that would ever change.”
“Ah.”
“You know, it’s funny lately.”
“Yes?”
“…Even when I close my eyes, I still find you beautiful.”
At this, Richard cocked his head in slight confusion. I knew perfectly well that I had said something strange. But I didn’t know how else to express it.
“Obviously, if I went blind, I would lose the ability to appraise gemstones, estimate carats, or even notice if a stone underwent a color change. But…I feel like I would still be able to see your beauty just as starkly as I can now. No, I know I would. It doesn’t make a difference if my eyes are open or closed. To me, you’re just as beautiful either way. You’re beautiful today, you’ll be beautiful tomorrow, and I know you’ll be beautiful the day after that.”
“Even in ten years, say? A hundred?”
“Yes. You would be. I know that for a fact.”
I nodded, and a light smile crossed Richard’s face. That might have been his way of reminding me we’d both be dead in a hundred years. But maybe, just maybe, something would survive like the jewelry in this exhibit. Whatever that something was, I knew it would be beautiful. The most beautiful thing I had ever known and ever would know. Maybe all that would vanish would be me, the beholder of the beauty.