NOVEL SIMPLE Chapter 13 – Trash Can
Chapter 13 – Trash Can
My jaw dropped as I stood there, utterly captivated. Words in any language seemed inadequate to capture the sheer magnitude of what lay before me. The vastness of deep space stretched endlessly beyond, where stars twinkled like scattered diamonds, and meteors streaked across the heavens in fiery trails.
Beneath it all, the soft glow of cityscape lights mingled with the gentle curve of planet Earth, creating a breathtaking view. And right in the middle of it—Myrrh, perched delicately on the railing. Her silhouette framed by the celestial backdrop transformed the moment into something otherworldly, as if an angel had descended into the heart of the night.
“It’s... beautiful,” I whispered, unable to fully convey the wonder that filled me.
“I know, right?” Myrrh’s smile was gentle, her eyes sparkling with the same awe I felt. “You’re the first person, besides my mother, to see this incredible view from the hospital rooftop.”
“You mean, none of your friends have seen this? Not even your ex?” I asked, surprised.
Myrrh shook her head, her smile never fading. “Nope. Only you. I would have loved to share it with Ephraim, but I found it too late. When my mother got seriously ill after we graduated high school, we had to move permanently to Xyraxis. That’s when I stumbled upon this spot.”
“That’s kind of a shame, then. You showed it to me, an immature, smart-aleck goon.” I couldn’t help but smirk.
Myrrh’s cheeks flushed pink, and she shot me a sharp glare, her expression brimming with playful contempt. “Just how much did my mother tell you about me?”
I shot her a skeptical look, narrowing my eyes. “Just how much of our conversation did you listen to, you eavesdropper?”
I had suspected from the start that she was lurking behind the door to her mother's room earlier. Myrrh only showed up once I finished speaking with her mother, and the unnerving silence in the hallway had given her away—too quiet, like she’d been deliberately hiding her presence just beyond the door.
With a soft sigh, Myrrh admitted, “Since the topic was all about me, I couldn’t help but listen in. It’s pretty rude for my mother to talk about me behind my back, so I figured I was just returning the favor.”
“Sure, sure. Keep justifying yourself. Maybe you should go explain it to a wall,” I replied, brushing her off with a dismissive wave.
Myrrh stepped away from the railing, her brows furrowing in frustration as her blue eyes locked onto me. She planted one hand on her hip, pointing accusingly with the other. Her voice was a low growl, simmering with annoyance. “Just so you know, don’t take everything my mother said too seriously. She’s still upset about Ephraim and me breaking up, so now she’s playing matchmaker. And for the record, that will never be you, got it?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved her off nonchalantly. “We’re enemies, remember?”
Crossing her arms with a huff, Myrrh spun away from me. “Good. As long as you keep doing your job as my partner and remember your place as a complete lowlife, we’ll be just fine. Hmph!”
I couldn’t help but force a tight-lipped smile. As much as I admired her beauty earlier, I could barely tolerate her attitude now. I’d compared her to an angel once, but it’s becoming more obvious that her personality was more like a biblically accurate one—formidable and terrifying in ways you’d never expect.
“You and me, getting along like cheese on a pizza? Absolutely not! Not in a million years!” Myrrh continued her rant, voice dripping with conviction.
There she goes again, acting all tough and cocky. But she’s not wrong. We’ll never see eye to eye, not even if hell freezes over or if Earth gets overrun by Cosmic Beasts. We’re more like oil and water—completely incompatible. But honestly, Myrrh isn’t just oil in this scenario. She’s more like grease, given how filthy her mouth can be when she gets riled up.
She leaned forward, resting her arms on the railing as she gazed up at the breathtaking night sky. Stars twinkled above, their light casting a soft glow on her face. “But, honestly, Zaft,” she began in a quieter tone, “I’ve been wrong about you.”
“Huh?” I approached the railing, drawn closer by her change in demeanor. “Wait, are you starting to get all soft on me now?”
Myrrh glanced at me from the corner of her eye, her lips curling into a small smirk. “I’m still a girl, you know. I can be soft sometimes, even to a good-for-nothing delinquent like you.” Her voice held a strange warmth, a mix of teasing and sincerity. “Yeah, I used to see you as just that—a worthless troublemaker. Back in high school, that’s all you were to me. But when I broke up with Ephraim, I was kind of relieved that you were there.”
“Correction: he dumped you,” I replied, unable to resist the smirk creeping onto my face. “And for the record, I wasn’t being nice. I just wanted a front-row seat to see your snotty, bratty crying face up close. But you were so ugly when crying so I decided to help you up. Consider it my way of repaying you for letting some of my violations slide in those late high school days.”
She huffed, rolling her eyes but not entirely annoyed. “That may be, but it doesn’t explain why you helped me with my grades during these last exams.” Her voice softened again as she placed a hand over her chest, her expression shifting into something more vulnerable. “You don’t know what that meant to me, Zaft. My entire future—and my mother’s—depends on my scholarship. Her pension barely covers her medical bills and our daily expenses. Without that scholarship, I wouldn’t be able to continue studying at Orbital Tech. That’s why, when we met again on the first day, I confronted you. I might be prideful, but for my dream of becoming a full-fledged WAIFU, I’d throw away every shred of pride I have.”
I remained silent, waiting for Myrrh to gather herself. Her blue eyes were welling up with tears, and for once, all the sarcastic comments and tasteless jokes I usually had at the ready were shelved.
“My mother... she used to be seen as the perfect woman,” Myrrh began, her voice trembling. “We were famous because of her. She was a war heroine. But our lives were never as perfect as they seemed. My father left us for another family, and my mother—she got sick. Her body never recovered from the damage she took in those battles with the Cosmic Beasts. It made her weak, and I became the only one she could depend on. I always pushed myself, trying to impress her, trying to come out on top. That’s why I became so prideful, so arrogant. It was all a cover for how imperfect my life really was.”
Tears began to spill from her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. She wiped them away quickly, but the red, swollen traces remained. Her sniffles filled the air, and to be honest, the sight of her snot creeping from her nose was a bit gross. But still, seeing her like this, so raw and vulnerable, overpowered any discomfort I felt.
“I know people hated me for acting like I was perfect,” she continued, her voice cracking. “But I couldn’t stop. I can’t afford to relax, even for a second. If I could just forget all my problems, just curl up and cry until the pain was gone... I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I can’t. I have to keep pushing. I have to give everything for my mother and me to survive.”
Her tears weren’t stopping anytime soon. She tried desperately to wipe them away, but it was no use. So I moved closer, resting my hand on her head, giving her a gentle pat. Her lime-green hair felt incredibly soft under my fingers, like petting the smoothest, silkiest dog. Myrrh tensed for a moment but then relaxed, the weight of her burdens briefly easing as she let herself be comforted.
“I know you’re full of trash, but you can still do it. That’s why I'm calling you a trash can, not a trash cannot,” I said in a serious tone, holding out the pink handkerchief she had returned to me just a few days ago.
“Pffft!” Myrrh sputtered, spitting out tears as she tried—and failed—not to laugh. She took the handkerchief from my hand and, without a second thought, blew her nose into it like it was the most natural thing in the world to do with someone else’s handkerchief. “You really are a weird person, Zaft. Was that supposed to cheer me up?”
“Well, you did laugh,” I said with a shrug. “It’s my duty as your enemy to insult you, even if it ends with you smiling.”
“Ha-ha-ha,” she mock-laughed, rolling her eyes. Then her gaze softened as she looked at me. “Sorry if I got a little too bleak and serious there for a moment. I just needed someone to listen to my problems, but I can’t tell these things to my mother.”
“What am I, your personal feedback box where you can dump all your complaints about your shitty life?” I asked, feigning disappointment.
“Maybe,” she said with a smug grin, her cheeks blushing faintly. She raised her index finger, teasing me. “So just be a good boy and don’t add to my headaches.”
“Fine, whatever floats your boat, Myrrh,” I replied, relenting with a sigh. “I’ll help you until the midterms are over.”
“Good,” she said, satisfied. Then, in a surprising move, she reached up and returned the gesture, patting my head. Her fingers ran through my hair, and suddenly my heart began skipping beats. I should’ve swatted her hand away, but the gentle stroke of her fingers was... oddly soothing. Ecstatic, even. My cheeks flushed with heat, betraying my usual calm demeanor.
This is bad. I’m catching feelings. I need to change the topic now before I actually fall for this girl.
“Anyway, mind if I take a picture of this place? My family would love to see the view from Xyraxis,” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Okay,” Myrrh said with a playful smile. “Just don’t tell anyone where you found it.” She pressed a finger to her lips, making a shushing gesture.
Once she stopped treating me like a pet, I pulled out my phone and snapped a few shots of the breathtaking panorama. But after three photos, I realized something: just taking pictures of the landscape felt a little... bland. The view was stunning, sure, but it needed something extra. Without thinking twice, I flipped the camera to selfie mode.
I took two selfies, but on the second one, I noticed an unexpected addition—Myrrh, smugly photobombing with a peace sign.
“Can you please not ruin the background?” I muttered, glaring at her.
Myrrh just shrugged, completely unfazed by my complaint. Instead, she reached into her pocket and handed me her own phone. “Can you please take a picture of me, too? Please?” she asked, her voice laced with faux sweetness.
She said the magic word—please—twice, no less. I guess I’ll be a good dog and comply.
Myrrh perched herself on the railing, framed perfectly by the stunning backdrop: the endless dark sky illuminated by meteor showers, the glowing cyberpunk cityscape beneath, and, just behind her, the majestic sight of planet Earth. She smiled, and for a brief moment, her beauty seemed to amplify the entire scene, blending effortlessly with the cosmic view.
“One... two... three... Say biiiiitch!” I called out, grinning.
The camera shutter clicked, and just like that, I had captured what I could only describe as my personal Mona Lisa—the most incredible picture in existence.
“Hey, let me see!” Myrrh jumped down from the railing, excitement lighting up her face.
But then, something strange happened.
The once-brilliant lights of the metropolis flickered and died, plunging the entire city into darkness. The towering buildings, once alive with vibrant neon, now stood like shadowy monoliths, eerie and foreboding. The distant hum of civilization was replaced by an unsettling silence, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Up in the sky, a dozen of massive meteors appeared, streaking downward in a direct line toward the city.