You’re worrying me, Momomi. Kaname looked at her friend, seeing her absent face and faraway eyes. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m worried about you, and I’m not sure why. You’re brooding, and it’s not like you to brood. No, actually, you brood a lot, but you always have a reason. Generally, it’s your parents. Sometimes it was Olesa and Amiki. A few times I was the one who made you worry. But you won’t tell me your fears and that, in itself, makes me just a little afraid. More than that…I guess there’s a childish annoyance there, as well. It’s not like I can talk, as you’d put it, I hide secrets within myself to protect my dignity, but I wouldn’t mind if you didn’t. If you could trust me. Of course, I trust you and I don’t speak… so I’m just being hypocritical. She sighed, then frowned when Momomi didn’t appear to notice. It makes me feel a little ignored, I suppose. Which is another illogical feeling. And I worry about you, which is novel in itself. You’re the first person I’ve ever really had to worry about, apart from myself, and it’s a very strange experience. It’s a little frustrating. At least when you’re looking after yourself you know what’s wrong and what you’re going to do about it. No, on the other hand…perhaps that isn’t always true. But still. You have a level of understanding and awareness of the problem. But you’re good at creating a smooth surface to hide your depths, and I’m no good at all at seeing past the reflection and into the real person, however much I wish that I could be perceptive like you. In other words, I don’t know anything at all, and I’m obsessed with this uncertain feeling. It’s not very pleasant.
But I should probably worry about you, not me, shouldn’t I? That’s what you’d do. Kaname glanced at her friend and tried to think of something to say.
“It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” Momomi remarked, as if reading her mind.
“Ah. I guess so.”
“The sky’s very clear… I wonder whether we’ll be able to see the stars later, if we stand in the right place, between the school and the town.”
“I suppose so,” Kaname replied. “I don’t see why not. But why the sudden interest? Thinking of joining the Astronomy Club?”
“Do we have one?”
“We have two.”
“Two?”
“Spica and Miator’s club, which is very professional and precise,” Kaname explained. “They schedule meetings and use telescopes and take notes and record observational data. I’m pretty sure the senpais write papers on something or other, too, and they subscribe to journals and everything else.
“Sounds like our school. I can imagine Shion doing that, actually.”
“And then Lulim has a club, which is broadly the “go and look at the stars, eat some sandwiches and drink hot tea” society. Or, to put it another way, the night-time division of the cloud-watching club.”
Momomi smiled. “These moments come rarely, but sometimes I do wonder whether they’re the ones who have it right after all. If we had a cloud-watching club, it would be based on measurements and experimental data and focus on meteorology.”
“I think there is such a club…” Kaname frowned. “Or am I just thinking of a subsection of the Geography Club?”
Momomi laughed. “In any case, you take my point. I can understand the importance of standards and hard work. But once a month, I have my Lulim day, when I don’t want to strain myself. Letting life come as it wants to is more fun in those moments.”
“Once a month? Like a werewolf?”
“Well, quite. I’m sure it must be a pretty traumatic transformation to witness.” Momomi smiled knowingly at her.
Somehow, Kaname felt happy. “Nah. It’s kinda fun to watch.” Because she’s looking at me?
“In any case, this is a good night to watch the stars lazily.” Momomi looked upwards. “That’s what I feel.”
Kaname smiled and stuck her hands in her pockets, enjoying the feel of the breeze ruffling her hair. It’s a strange thing, but it’s easier to be happy when she’s happy. It makes the world seem right.
“But I was thinking about that,” Momomi said thoughtfully. “I’ve been here at Astraea Hill for so many months now. On a hill, in the middle of nowhere, with relatively few artificial lights. Except for the town, I’ll grant, but it’s a lot better than a lot of other environments for stargazing.”
“I suppose so. I don’t think that was the design intention, though. I thought we were in the middle of nowhere so kidnappers at least had to do some extra legwork to get here.”
Momomi giggled. “You’re as cynical as always. It’s not very romantic.”
“It’s practical, though, isn’t it?” Kaname scratched her cheek. “That’s why we make good friends. You can do all your fluffy poetry and romantic notions and bunnies and things, and I’m here to wield the line rule of cruel truth.”
“Actually, I’d characterise your contribution as destructive pessimism,” Momomi teased. “But you’re right, there’s a necessary balance, all the same. Just as you’re the strong one and I’m the one who knows how people work.”
“Yeah, yeah. It’s not like I don’t know the gist,” Kaname said lightly. “I just have problems translating theory to reality.”
“In any case, my original point was that I’ve been here all this time, but I only thought of stargazing just now.” Momomi looked up again. “Just now, when I happened to look up at the sky.”
“Well, I’m not surprised. It’s not exactly a usual hobby, is it?”
“When I think about it, though, it’s something I would have enjoyed all along. I just didn’t notice it.” Momomi glanced at her. “Do you have things like that? When you only abruptly notice something that had been there all along?”
“Of course. Its called being human.” Kaname shrugged. “I mean, kendo was always there but I didn’t ever think to join. Not really. It was interesting when I did, though.”
“I guess it is a human thing,” Momomi agreed, looking away. “It’s hard to know whether to be pleased with the discovery or annoyed that you missed it all along.”
Kaname snorted. “Why take it so seriously? It’s just a thing, if you know what I mean. It doesn’t make a great of difference either way.”
“I suppose not.”
Kaname smirked and closed her eyes, knowing what came next. When Momomi gets that far-away look in her eyes…not the one that says she’s brooding, but the one that says she’s looking at the world itself and thinking the way she does, about everything it. It’s always interesting to hear what she says, knowing she trusts me enough to say it.
“But all the same,” Momomi began. “It’s a little depressing as well. There’s a lot of… potential in this world. There’s so many hobbies out there we could enjoy, interests and interesting things to do, fascinating places and films and books and who knows what, and the people as well, friends and partners and superiors and subordinates and jobs and… everything. A place in the world. All that stuff is out there somewhere, it has to be. But the odds of us encountering even a fraction of it are so incredibly long. More than that, even if we saw it, we probably wouldn’t recognise it until it was too late, and it was gone. You know?” Momomi smiled self-effacingly. “The thought gives me a very desolate feeling.”
Kaname snorted, but she couldn’t help but smile all the same. “You really do think too much for your own good, don’t you?”
“I can’t help it,” Momomi pouted. “It’s just the way I am, you know? I think about things. Which is more than a lot of people do.”
“Well, you’re right, of course. And that’s just the way it is, until such time as we become immortal.” Kaname looked thoughtful for a moment. “Which is why Jesus always annoyed me… I mean, he proves he can’t die, then he flies off to heaven. Not only did he miss out on the chance to experience life forever, but he left mankind completely in the lurch. Look at us. Was this in the plan? Was it? Come down here and sacrifice yourself again, there’s a lot more of us now and we’ve invented nuclear bombs too.”
Momomi laughed. “You’re still busy with your own agenda. But I guess it’s just the way things are. Sometimes I think that’s another argument against God in itself. This world’s just so imperfect…”
“You say that, but wouldn’t it get kinda boring if we just enjoyed everything in life? I mean, when you first read books every one is a classic, right? But after a while, your taste starts to mature, and with understanding comes the loss of that innocent pleasure.” Kaname looked up at the sky herself. “It sounds cliché, but there wouldn’t be any way to appreciate the good stuff in the life if it was all good stuff. And the thousands of wonderful things we’ll never experience lends the few we do extra weight, don’t you think?”
Momomi studied her face for a few moments, then nodded, smiling slightly. “You’re right, I guess. Even if you’re wrong, it’s a less depressing way of thinking about things.”
“Exactly! Who’s the pessimist now?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“But if I’m feeling philosophical… I mean, really philosophical. Totally cut lose from reality.” Kaname smiled. “Sometimes I think we’re the lucky ones. Because we’ve experienced some of the worst aspects of life, isolation and abuse and the need to fight, we can retain our childlike pleasure when things do go right. More than that, we appreciate how wrong things can be. It’s a fuller experience of life.”
“That’s definitely a lot more philosophy than I ever think I could live by,” Momomi said teasingly. “And it sounds like Kaname’s just the same. Otherwise she wouldn’t be jealous of Amane.”
“Of course. But it’s an interesting thought experiment, don’t you think?”
Friendship is… being able to say stuff like that without feeling like a complete idiot.
Momomi smiled. “I guess you really are the optimistic one, despite my prior beliefs. It’d be great if you could always be that.”
“Ah, but that’d leave you unable to appreciate me, wouldn’t it?”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think so. People will always be greedy. People will always want as much as they can take… and I don’t think it’s always a bad thing. The belief that what you have will never age or stale… that’s very naïve and endearing. But we never stop aspiring, either. Eternal optimism means we’re never satisfied with what we have.”
“Without optimism there’s no aspiration and no movement.” Kaname said, shrugging. “So I wouldn’t change that, all the same.”
Momomi nodded. “Only stagnation. Is that ever a good choice? To just let things be, even if risking what you have is a necessary stake to chance on a greater thing?”
“It’s not a matter of a good or bad choice,” Kaname remarked. “It’s just a choice. There’s no point in over-analysing stuff like that.”
“I suppose that’s true,” Momomi conceded. “What would you do, then?”
“It depends.”
Momomi rolled her eyes. “That’s a surprisingly wishy-washy answer, coming from you.”
“But,” Kaname added. “As I was going to say, before I was interrupted, I’m more inclined to take risks than not. That’s why a wishy-washy answer, coming from you. I’d rather fail decisively, struggling to obtain something, than sit and stew in mediocrity.”
“I wish I was like that,” Momomi mused. “Mediocrity feels so much safer, it’s hard to leave.”
“You’re not mediocre, and you’re stupid if you think you are. Your parents. You struggled and won.” Kaname folded her arms. “You can do so again if you have to. I know it. Because you’re not a normal person.”
Momomi laughed. “Kaname wouldn’t be interested in a normal person, now would she?”
“Yeah. In that respect… it’s one of the areas where I’m… cautious.”
“About making friends?” Momomi giggled. “A little more than that, I think. You’re an outstanding person who should have many friends. Even with your awkward personality.”
“Well, of course.” Kaname shrugged. “Some would say I’m cowardly, but I think they’re idiots. To say one way’s better than another, that’s a false statement. People always say it’s better to live intensely and take risks, but they’re just projecting social expectations and favouring the more dramatic choice. Eternal optimists believe in happy endings, but it’s mostly those who receive the happy endings that say… how’s it phrased…”
“It’s better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all,” Momomi said. “That?”
“I think so,” Kaname said carefully, feeling her English strain. “But that’s the kind of thing. It’s not something people who have loved and lost in recent times would say. Mostly it’s just a platitude for comfort or encouragement.”
“Because there is no necessity to socialise in this world,” Momomi observed. “All the same, we’re both pretty clear that it’s better we became friends than not.”
“Better is a subjective term, isn’t it? Life’s more enjoyable, of course. But we also have more risks.” Kaname ran a hand through her hair thoughtfully. “So we had our happy ending… if you’d been taken back to Italy, I would have wished I hadn’t come to like your company.”
“You’re very… guarded.”
“I’m reckless with my body but careful with my heart,” Kaname admitted. “That’s because flesh wounds heal, but if you let people in, you’re open.”
“Surely if you shelter yourself like that, you’ll never grow, though.”
“Well, you know as well,” Kaname pointed out. “You know what it feels like, to be betrayed in the worst way possible by someone you trusted with all your heart.”
“I know,” Momomi admitted. “And it hurt. But I can’t let that define my life.”
“I know,” Kaname echoed. “That’s the thing.”
“You’re giving me very mixed messages, you know. First you advocate being hurt to highlight the good in this world, then you advocate social isolationism to prevent pain.”
“I’m not advocating it as such,” Kaname said. “I’m just saying it’s a perfectly legitimate option.”
“Hmm. But what do you think? As Kaname Kenjou?”
“I don’t know.” Kaname sighed. “When I was a little younger, before I met you, I thought I had all the answers. Now I’m not sure.”
Momomi frowned and looked away. “At least you made some improvement, I guess.”
“But I do know one thing. I’m glad I became your friend.”
Momomi looked at the floor and smiled slightly. “Thanks. I’m… glad too. Very glad…”
Kaname gave her an uncomfortable look. “Don’t sound too weepy. It makes you sound like you’re going to be kidnapped or assassinated or something. Or one of those characters who intends to run off and fight some mystical battle or whatever and then die unless I run after you and find my world destroyed-”
“You’re closer to the truth than you think.”
“Say what?”
Momomi stuck her tongue out. “Don’t worry, I’m not a magical girl. Or should I say sorry to disappoint you?”
“Ha.” Kaname smirked. “Of course not. Magical girls believe in love and peace and crap like that… they’d never make a harrion like you one.”
Momomi pouted. “Well, you’re the same, aren’t you?”
“Of course. It’s not like I want to be one, either. If you think I’m going through a near-naked transformation sequence for anybody’s money, you need to think again.”
“Of course… but we’d probably make good bad guys in a show like that. You know, the angsty dark girl with a gloomy past.”
“Making yourself into a tragic heroine much? You have way too much taste for melodrama, you know.”
“Not a heroine,” Momomi retorted. “Never a heroine. Heroines generally annoy me.”
Kaname chuckled. “Same here. But we’re way too competent to be bad guys. They always lose in the end.”
“Of course.”
“You know, I’d love to read a story when they won.”
“You would, of course. Well, I guess I would too.” Momomi laughed again. “It’d make a change, wouldn’t it?”
“Exactly.”
Momomi glanced at her. “But thanks for talking to me, Kaname. I’ve had a lot to think about and it’s good to hear your views.”
“Did I help you solve it?” Kaname asked.
“Not at all,” Momomi replied, laughing. “I’m way more confused than before. But I think it’s okay to be confused now. As you’d say, it’s not good or bad, just a human thing.”
“Well, a lot of things are like that.”
They spent the rest of the time walking to town talking about less serious things, more or less whatever came to mind. But that felt just fine, too. No one has to be deep all the time. That’d just be plain tiring. Kaname glanced at Momomi, who was chatting away happily about the more irritating properties of romance heroines. But all the same, I’ve always been amazed at our capacity to just… talk. I’m hardly a sociable person, I don’t have very good conversational skills, but things just come to mind when I’m around Momomi. And I’m never afraid to say them. She replied teasingly. Momomi’s pretty much the same. It’s enjoyable to be able to just talk. Normally it’s tiring, but with her it’s different. When people talk about the pleasures of conversation, I actually know what they mean. I used to talk functionally and defensively, to operate in society and to protect myself. The idea that I could be like this, and just talk…and talk…and talk…and even more than that, to listen as well, it’s novel. Is everyone this interesting if you get through to you? I mean, I can talk with the other three, but it’s not the same. I suppose I let them lead, and I generally limit myself to sarcastic replies. I couldn’t present my deepest thoughts the same way. Friends and best friends, is it? They’re completely different…not that I enjoy calling Amiki a friend.
The town was quiet and the cinema quieter, which was to be expected. Kaname tapped her feet while Momomi paid for both of them and tried not to think of what people might be thinking of them. No fault of our own. Just the very long shadow of a school lead by the cross-national, cross-class, same-gender anomalies called Serané and Kariya.
Momomi looked around as the entered the almost empty cinema. “Where do you want to sit?”
Kaname shrugged, looking around. “Anywhere is good, I suppose. Its not like it’s too crowded, and I don’t really care. Isn’t today your day?”
“Okay.” Momomi grabbed her hand and dragged her to a seat in the back row, sitting down herself and smiling. “How about here?”
“Well, sure…” Kaname said, looking a little puzzled. “Why here, though? Surely you’d get a better view further forwards?”
“This is fine, don’t you think?”
Kaname shrugged again and sat. “Whatever. It’s your film you want to see, after all.”
“You’re still being all cool and indifferent,” Momomi teased. “I’ve always found it hard to work out whether you care about anything at all.”
“Hey, hey, don’t you remember?” Kaname prodded her friend playfully. “I have two modes, things that are worth getting physically hurt over, and things that aren’t worth getting physically hurt over. It’s one or the other, so I have to care about very few things.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m not being hit repeatedly in the face for my seating preferences, but do you have to be so discerning?” Momomi grinned. “Would it hurt you too much to have a middle category? You know, the one normal people keep everything in…”
Kaname snorted. “That just makes me think they don’t really care about anything. I prefer focusing my energy on a few things, no more.”
“I guess when your empathy is so thin anyway, you have to conserve it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell me you’re any different…”
“Well, fine. But I don’t act cool all the time. Much.”
The lights darkened as the trailers began, to Kaname’s chagrin. After the third she rolled her eyes and sighed audibly.
“What’s up?” Momomi asked quietly, leaning in to her friend.
“Nothing in particular,” Kaname said. “I’m just annoyed that we don’t get decent trailers for this kind of film.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure you can’t legally watch the films it sounds like you’d really enjoy, anyway. Action and horror and stuff.”
Kaname chuckled. “Well, yeah. Never stopped me before. Besides, the lighter kind of action films are okay, and I’m on the tall side. You’re the one who’s screwed.”
Momomi turned back to the screen and frowned. “Doesn’t that just mean I won’t have to go with you?”
“Tush.” Kaname scowled. “I’ll find a way. I mean, if I ask Shion she’ll probably provide a trenchcoat, a hat and a quick lesson in voice deepening.”
“Probably,” Momomi admitted. “In terms of plans, if not execution, she’s hyperactive.”
“That’s not the point, though. In films like this, you don’t get-”
“Shush. You’re interrupting the nice man shooting out the car with an assault rifle.”
“Say what?” Kaname’s head snapped round and found an action film had finally found its way to the screen. “How much of that did I miss?”
“Most of it. You were busy bitching about how there weren’t any decent films being previewed, and I didn’t have it in me to stop you.”
“Why not?” Kaname demanded. “Isn’t that the fair thing to do?”
Momomi smiled in the half-darkness. “I was too busy being paralysed by the efficiency of universal karma…”
“Cruel girl. Isn’t the film enough?”
“Oh, relax, Kaname,” Momomi teased, prodding her on the shoulder. “You might even like it.”
Kaname doubted that, but wasn’t going to say anything. She still gave it her full attention when the film began proper, if only to be able to hold up her side of a conversation at the end of it. Damned if I’m going to let Momomi say I didn’t understand it, or something. I have my pride. She frowned at the screen. But it looks quite simple, really. Girl moves out of house, guy moves into house. Letter left from one to the other. I’m not an expect but I can read the writing on the wall, they’ll be together by the end. How predictable. Where’s the tension in that? Anyway, so…something about an attic…hmm. Looks like someone smashed up his house. How annoying. Is he being targeted by the intelligence agency he abandoned a year ago? I wish… nope…instead…a time travelling post-box. Right. Say what?! Kaname bit her thumb. Any particular reason for that? Perhaps it’s a military secret or something…I mean, how valuable would that be from a strategic perspective? An American general could post a letter to his past comrades, telling them not to do the whole Vietnam thing again. Honestly, though, two years… now that’s what I call a long-distance relationship. Shion and Isae, be humbled. And there’s this whole time-travelling flirting thing going on, but I’m not sure I’m following. Let’s see… something about a map and a guy and a girl who aren’t the guy and the girl… love rivals, but in different time periods. Well, that’s another way to be safe from vengeful people. If you look at it the other way, though, if you have your girl stolen from you by a guy who isn’t even in the same time period, you really do fail at life. No, somehow they were in the same place this time…God this is confusing. No, of course, she exists in the future and the past even if he’s only in the past…but, no, he’s in the future as well. Probably. If she stabbed his past self with her past self, would the universe implode? Now that’d be an interesting ending…
Kaname frowned. Okay, by now I’ve completely lost the plot. On the plus side, I don’t care. Could you mail yourself into the past or the future using that box? I guess it’s not big enough, but what if you put yourself in a box next to the post-box, with the correct stamps and all, would that work? I mean, to all intents and purposes that’s the same… come to that, is it really the post-box which is the active dimension of time travel, or would that be the postman? Could this be part of some government conspiracy, channelled through the postal service? I mean, time travel can’t just come out of nowhere, like blood from a stone or something. Only the government would have the means and the reasons and the connections to the postal service to develop it, but that still leaves the question of their motive. Why on earth would they spend so much time fucking with these two people? Perhaps I’m looking at this the wrong way…the present-day government may have no reason, but a government from the future with the power of time travel might. They’d more plausibly have the technology, too, so that solves a lot of problems. In that case, it’s a Terminator scenario. The child of these two weird people will be a super-genius who invents time travel and so brings about a new world order, or is important to the new world in a very fundamental way. Perhaps he saves the world. This might not be a unique scenario, though. Is it meant to represent hundreds of similar tales across the country, as the future ensures the existence of its leaders? That leads to a time paradox, but this movie’s already knee-deep in them anyway. This’d probably be the many-universes type…no, perhaps this isn’t a matter of time travel. What if the letters themselves aren’t moved in time, but the people are moved to new universes each time, which happen to include the letters? God, perhaps these two really are the parents of a super-genius, it’s hell to think about even in genre terms, forget experiencing it…
“And those were the sort of thoughts that preoccupied me for most of time,” Kaname admitted afterwards. “I sorta lost track of things.”
Momomi laughed. “Trust you to overanalyse everything. Can’t you just say it’s a magic post-box and leave it at that?”
“That’s intellectually lazy,” Kaname complained. “Even magic has to have rules, you know. I don’t like people who abstract such things to hand-waving forces, as if they did exist, I’m sure they’d follow fundamental laws just like anything else.”
“Well, that makes sense on its own terms, but not in the context of this movie. You were rather missing the point.”
Kaname shrugged. “Well, if you don’t think about this stuff just a little, the point in itself won’t make sense.”
“And if you think about this stuff for very long, the point in itself will make even less sense,” Momomi pointed out, leading her friend out. “I’m just glad you weren’t paying enough attention to spot the multiple time paradoxes.”
“So am I. I was having a hard enough time for myself…” Kaname glanced at her friend. “Well? What was it like? I don’t really know, after all that.”
Momomi shrugged. “Well, it was nonsensical at times and merely mind-bending at others, but I guess it was cute. The ending was nice.”
“One day, they should release the sequel,” Kaname said. “Showing them breaking up.”
“You’re still cold and cynical at heart, aren’t you?”
“Of course. But realistic. I mean, they’ve barely talked to each other, except in time-travelling letters. They’re practically strangers, right?”
“Well, isn’t that the best way to start a romantic relationship?” Momomi asked. “At least they have nothing to lose.”
“Except the space-time continuum,” Kaname smirked. “Honestly, apart from any other consideration, I’d stop with the letters just to avoid the destruction of time as we know it.”
“That’s an unusually sensible attitude from you.”
“Well, I can be reckless with myself, but the universe is something else altogether, right?”
Momomi laughed. “You say that, but you’d still use it to get future stock market figures and invest with an eye to them. Just like me.”
Kaname chuckled. “I hadn’t even thought of that… evil girl.”
“I prefer the term practical. I mean, if you’re gonna hook up with your girl from the future, you might as well be loaded when you do.” Momomi frowned and pulled out her remaining change. “And speaking of that… let’s see. I’ve still got some change.”
“Are you going to add it to the rest you saved?”
“Like hell,” Momomi said. “I may have some of the rest left, but I’ll exorcise this much before the day’s out. It’ll make me feel a little better about myself.”
Kaname frowned. “Well, I don’t get your logic, but considering that’ll satisfy you as well, it’s almost getting two-for-one. Normal people always have an itch whenever they spend money so freely.”
“It’s because I want to be normal like that that I don’t have such an itch. If you know what I mean.”
“Not really. You’re making less sense than the film.”
Momomi pouted. “Now that’s just harsh. Take that back.”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
“I should think so too…” Momomi looked around her as they walked back. “Let’s see… what shall I buy?”
“How about food?” Kaname suggested.
“Why food? We spent a lot on that already today.”
“It’s just a motto of mine. When in doubt, buy food. It’s harder to steal and even if they do take it from you, they probably won’t want it.”
Momomi laughed at the thought. “No-one’s quite like you for flipping between optimism and pessimism. You’re almost bipolar.”
Kaname shrugged and smiled. “Don’t blame me. It’s a crazy world.”
“And you make even crazier…” Momomi looked around and spotted a florists. “Aha. That’ll do.”
“Flowers?” Kaname asked cynically.
“I like flowers.”
“Can’t you just go and look at the Etoile greenhouse again?” Kaname frowned. “The last time I was in there, mind, Kariya was shouting at your father…”
“Well, that’s the clash of dominant personalities for you.” Momomi stepped forwards. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”
Kaname frowned slightly at the instruction, annoyed that she was left behind. What’s up with that? I even went to the film…maybe I upset her with my reflections on the nature of time travel. Yeah, right…I guess she just doesn’t think I’d be interested in flowers. Which is true. No need to think too deeply. She folded her arms and tapped her heels impatiently. Though I’d prefer to be in there making sarcastic comments than out here in the cold. I’m just glad I wore something warm. It’s still odd, though. I mean, she dragged me through all the clothes shopping and stuff. But then again, she needed me to be her model for that. I can’t imagine that with flowers. For some reason, the mental image of Momomi sticking various flowers in her hair came to mind, making her smirk. Now there’s a horrible thought. The worst thing is the fact that I can see her going it. Something white would suit me, I guess. Yellow for her, or maybe red. A red rose? Nope, too many hilarious mental images. Must not think of Momomi with a red rose between her teeth… too late. Now that’s be a brilliant sight. Sounds just like Kariya, if only she smiled. But it’s something Serané forced on her…or something Momomi would force on me. That’d be terrible. But pretty funny, I’ll admit.
Eventually, Momomi came back, clutching a bouquet of some kind. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Not a problem,” Kaname said automatically, craning her neck to see the flowers.
Momomi pouted and hide them behind her back. “No peaking. I spent some time on this, you know.”
“Whatever. Shall we get back?”
“In a minute. Can we go somewhere first?”
“Where?” Kaname asked wearily. “It’s getting late, you know.”
“To the park, just for a little while. I want to sit down.”
Kaname snorted. “You just spent an hour and a half sitting down in the cinema, you know. You really are unhealthy.”
“Yeah, yeah. Can we?”
“Well, today’s your day,” Kaname said, raising her hands in surrender. “Just make it quick.”
Momomi nodded and smiled enthusiastically, running towards the park while doing the best to keep the bouquet out of sight. Kaname shook her head and followed more slowly, watching her run with her peculiar grace. She’s at that age, just young enough to be able to run while remaining just old enough to look pretty while doing it. Society’s expectations will demand that we walk everywhere soon enough. With that thought in her mind, Kaname changed her mind and chased after her, only to find Momomi sitting on a bench under the light of a lamppost. She sat next to her, watching as Momomi finally brought the bouquet into her lap.
Momomi touched the flowers almost gently. “You know, my mother loves flowers. They’re one of her few pleasures in life, and she knows a lot about them.”
“She seems the type, I guess,” Kaname admitted. “Do you like them too?”
“A little, I guess. I’m sure you think that’s obnoxiously feminine of me.” Momomi shrugged. “But she taught me both the European flower language and Hanakotoba.”
“That must get confusing, to know both.”
“Less than knowing more than one language, because the similarities are striking. It’s a redundant language, though. Very few people can read the messages you send by flowers.”
“Is that sending a message, then?” Kaname asked. “You have enough different types of flowers…”
“It is, of course,” Momomi said. “I guess I do it as a smug kind of thing, even if I’m the only one to understand. That’s why I selected something like this, which isn’t very aesthetically pleasing. I chose it to represent my feelings. But in any case, can you guess?”
“Red roses… isn’t that for love?” Kaname hazarded.
“Exactly. But that’s the easy one, isn’t it?”
“So this is for your mysterious cute girl…”
“Come on. Try guessing some more flowers.”
Kaname stared at them for a few moments, then shrugged in defeat. “Sorry. I’m no good at this stuff.”
Momomi pouted. “What a waste. Well, pink roses are for grace, trust and confidence. But they’re mostly there because I like the colour. There are two kinds of tulips, too. Red means a declaration of love in Europe, though it’s trust again among other things in Japan. Yellow means unrequited love in both… that’s what I think my crush is, you see.”
“I see,” Kaname said slowly, surprised at her frankness. “That’s too bad.”
“Daffodil is unrequited love as well, but also respect and chivalry. And yellow roses are there for the same reasons. Friendship and a hopelessly love. A little jealousy, too, for what’s represented by the one blue rose. An impossible dream.” Momomi looked at the floor. “It’s a very chaotic bouquet, like my feelings, and it’s a little sad as well.”
Kaname tried to find something to say, and failed miserably. I’m hopeless at this kind of stuff. I’m flattered she can tell me, but it pains me that she can say so much and I can find no reply at all. It’s not nice to see her upset… who the hell is this girl, anyway? It’s hard to forgive anyone who makes Momomi melancholy.
“But it’s not all bad.” Momomi looked at her with wavering eyes. “Red roses and yellow roses together, two of the most numerous of the flowers, they mean joy and excitement. Whatever else happens, I’ll hold onto that.”
“It sounds… hard,” Kaname observed lamely.
“That’s why the film was bittersweet. It’s like you said, life isn’t that convenient.”
“It never is, is it?” Kaname began to see what was coming next, and somehow there was nothing to say.
“Yeah. Well, it can’t be helped, can it?” Momomi tried to force some cheerfulness into her voice. “We have to live in that world.”
Kaname just nodded slowly.
Momomi thrust her arm out without looking at her. “Here.”
Kaname took the bouquet slowly, staring at it.
“It’s yours,” Momomi explained, her voice low. She was looking at a specific point on the ground, about as far from Kaname as you could look without twisting your neck. “Yours to keep. Because… you’re her. You’re the girl I like.”
Kaname was shocked, but not as much as she thought she would be. Somehow, I knew, I think. But I never acknowledged it, not even in my head. “I… see.” She tried to find something to say. “Since when?”
“That one time,” Momomi said vaguely. “With you… just out of the shower…”
Kaname winced at the memory. “That long?”
“You owe me a reply, you know,” Momomi said in a very small voice.
And I knew it would come to that, as well. I didn’t want to have to say it. “I’m… sorry.”
Momomi laughed shortly, an exhalation, something entirely without genuine mirth. “You don’t have to apologise.”
“I’m still sorry.”
“It’s fine!” Momomi said, a little too forcefully. She recovered herself, then stood, still looking anywhere but Kaname. Which was just as well, as Kaname was looking anywhere but her. “I… expected that outcome. But we can still remain friends. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“Ah.” If it’s fine, then why is your voice breaking like that?
“In any case. I guessed I’d better get back.”
“Right.” Kaname stood hurriedly. “You’re right… it’s pretty late. We need to get back to school-”
“Kaname.” Momomi’s voice was fragile. “I want to… I need to…”
“It’s fine,” Kaname said automatically.
“Thanks.”
Kaname watched her leave, and felt like screaming inside. No, it’s not fine. It’s not fine and I know it! So I should say something, do something, call her back! I shouldn’t leave her like this, but I’m going to, because I’m afraid. It’s easier to let her walk away. It’s easier to pretend there’s nothing wrong. There’s more I should say, more I should do. Reassure her, thank her, something! Kaname raised a hand, but words failed her for the fiftieth time that night. She let her hand slump to her side again, face twisting with self-disgust.
Sure, I know what I should do.But all I can do is watch her retreating back.
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