I’m gonna write as much as I can, said myself 9 months ago, when the first positive case was confirmed in my country. All the plans I had carefully made were thrown out the window, leaving me stuck at home with nothing but my frustration and anguish at how the world changed so much in so little time. So I turned my energy to writing. And boy, did I write.
I will say that 2020 was probably my most productive year yet, in terms of writing. 80K+ words, and that doesn’t count the pieces I did for zines, a few others I have not published, and some original stuffs. I could have finished a book lol. Anyway, I’d like to talk about some of my well-received works on AO3.
1. A Voice from the Past - Spirited Away
I wrote this to apply for Whisper of the Hearth: A Ghibli-themed cookbook zine, in which I was accepted. An idea I had cooked up in the last few weeks of 2019 before finally writing it in the beginning of 2020. I’ve always wanted to see a continuation, just a moment where Chihiro and Haku meet each other again after their promise at the end of the movie. I honestly didn’t plan for it to be feel-y (I wanted it to be more light-hearted), but in the end, I went with a slightly darker route. Because I’ve heard many stories of people being ‘spirited away’ where I’m from and I wanted to depict that sort of mysterious, frightening circumstances. (AO3,Tumblr).
2. A Christmas Date - Whisper of the Heart
Like my Spirited Away fic, I wrote this to apply for the Ghibli cookbook zine. Whisper of the Heart is a favorite and Shizuku x Seiji is my #1 favorite Ghibli couple. Challenging myself to write about them was an obvious choice. A future meeting between the two of them after Seiji left to study violin making in Italy was also something I’ve imagined countless times. The Christmas theme was due to me planning the story around the holidays of 2019 (around which I’ve also planned several other holiday-themed fics for other fandoms that I didn’t end up writing ^^;). I honestly did not expect this to receive as much traction as it does, so thank you to all the people who have enjoyed this little story. (AO3).
3. Since Before I Know You - Persona 5
My first time writing ShuAnn. I wanted to apply for the Love’s Encounter zine but I’ve never written ShuAnn before. I didn’t really ship them, but I like both of them as characters. And the childhood friend is one of my favorite tropes so hey, why not write about them with a childhood meeting? I already had a solid idea of Ren’s family background too, so it wasn’t hard. But you know, I didn’t expect it to get that many likes. Because it’s my first time writing them. I was ecstatic, to say the least. Reading the comments really made me happy :) (AO3,Tumblr).
4. A Moment of Sincerity - Natsume Yuujinchou
I don’t write a lot of Natsume fics this year. Probably because I branched out to other fandoms. But NatsuYuu is still my comfort series and it’s like a breath of fresh air whenever I return to writing them. A balance of fluff and angst with a dash of youkai trouble is always fun. This was my first entry for Natsume Week 2020, and like previous years, the first day prompt was Birthday. Now, having written many birthday fics, it’s a bit hard to come up with another concept. That’s why I changed POVs to Madara and set it in Natsume’s third year of high school. The prospect of Natsume leaving for college hangs above their heads and Madara finds himself contemplating what he will do if Natsume leaves. (AO3,Tumblr).
5. Bound by Will - Natsume Yuujinchou
Planned to make a series for the Natsume Week event, but I was too distracted and too busy, so I could only write two pieces (though I still want to write more, even now). Bound by Will is loosely connected to A Moment of Sincerity, but it is still story that could stand on its own. Set in the future when Natsume has gone to college, Natsume meets a youkai who seems to have some sort of connection to Reiko. (AO3,Tumblr).
Those are my top five well-received works on AO3, all written in the first half of the year and some are probably poorly-written. But I’ve gone through many ups and downs, frustrations and insecurities since then. I still need a lot of improvement, but I’ve found my pace, and I hope that my recent works show at least a little bit of improvement.
Thank you to everyone who have read my stories, who have left kudos and given comments. I see that writers tend to seek outside validation, and there’s nothing better than to see people liking my stories to give me that. Comments are scarce, and while, most often than not, they warm my heart and boost my confidence, I understand why there are so few of them. If you want to read more of my works, you can visit my AO3. If you like them and would like to support me, I also have a ko-fi page :) Thank you for this past year and let’s welcome the new year.
Summary: Six months after Shiho’s accident, Ann still could not forget the sight of her friend’s crippled form on the ground. All she wanted was for Shiho to be healthy again so they could have fun like they used to. On Ann’s 17th birthday, Ren prepared a surprise for her.
Ann was reading a fashion magazine on her bed when her phone vibrated, beeping once. She reached for it, patting her bed and the sides of her pillow. Where was it? Her phone was nowhere to be found, so she looked up, and saw light shining from the top of the stackable cube shelves next to her bed. She grabbed her phone and checked the notification. One message. From Ren. The smile came unbidden as Ann unlocked her phone and clicked the message.
‘Happy birthday!’ it said, followed by party-face emojis and birthday stickers. The time stamp beside it read 12:02 AM. Her grin only grew as she struggled to keep her composure, rolling over to her back and holding her phone over her head.
‘Why aren’t you asleep?’ she asked.
‘Why aren’t you?’
Ann snorted a quiet laughter. Would it kill Ren to be honest sometimes and say he wanted to be the first to wish her a happy birthday? Not that she would admit she’d been waiting for his message either.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked then.
Ann grinned. ‘Texting you.’
‘On your bed?’
‘Yep.’
There was a momentary pause before he said, ‘Do you have plans after school? Wanna go somewhere?’
There it was—the question she’d been waiting for. Ann had kept her afternoon open for this very reason. Her grin threatened to swallow her face whole as she typed, ‘Are you asking me on a date, Ren?’
Another pause. ‘Maybe.’
Cheeky. Ann laughed under her breath. ‘Alright.’
***
Ren’s invitation was the only thing occupying her mind the entire morning. She wondered where they would go. Sharing a parfait at a cute cafe would be nice. Or maybe they’d go to the movies? They could eat a fluffy cake at a pastry shop. What if, at the end of their date, Ren surprised her with a present? Not something huge, but something unexpected. And then he’d walk her home, his hand holding hers, and once they reached her porch, his eyes would bore into hers in that way that made her stomach twist and knot before he’d lean into the gentlest kiss he had ever given her. The thought already made her heart race and cheeks burn.
Her phone vibrated again inside her bag while she queued in front of the subway escalator. She had put it on silent after the incessant beeping on the train ride to school. Her friends had flooded their group chat with birthday wishes and promises to hang out. A birthday party at Leblanc after school, Ryuji had said. But Ann already had plans, and when she’d said so, Ryuji and Futaba had bombarded her with questions: what plans? With whom?
Ren was conveniently not on. Ann wondered if he was doing it on purpose. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think he was waiting for her somewhere at the station, smirking to himself as he watched their group chat notifications come in.
When her phone vibrated again, Ann exhaled a quiet sigh and fished her phone from inside her bag. If Ryuji still spouted nonsense about how no one in their right mind would date a girl like Ann, she would give him a piece of her mind once she cornered him at school. However, it wasn’t Ryuji’s name that greeted her eyes. Ann’s eyes widened when she beheld the name displayed across her phone.
‘Happy birthday, Ann!’ Shiho said in her message. ‘Wish you all the best. Sorry we can’t celebrate together like we used to, but I’m sure Ren-kun has prepared something amazing for you. I’m still doing well on my rehab. The doctor said I’ve improved a lot. Not enough to do any sports yet, but I hope we’ll get to see each other soon.’
Her fingers twitched, and she clutched her phone tight. Shiho always wished her a happy birthday before school. Then Ann would find a cute little present hiding in her shoe locker or desk drawer. Shiho would throw her arms around her from behind with a beam spreading from ear to ear as she asked her where Ann wanted to go or what she wanted to eat. A part of her expected that to happen now, grinning with glee as she read the message, before she remembered that Shiho was no longer at her school.
‘Thanks, Shiho,’ she typed her reply, then her fingers wavered over the keys, her lips quirking up in quiet delight. If Shiho’s health had improved, the time they’d be able to hang out might be closer than she thought. She’d set to type something, anything—that’s amazing news, Shiho—when the image of Shiho’s crippled body on the ground flashed across her mind.
It’s your fault.
She froze in her tracks, her hands on her phone becoming still.
“Hey.” The sudden hand on her shoulder made her jump. A figure stood beside her—a figure in her school uniform. Sunlight reflected off a pair of glasses as Ren peered into her eyes. But then his smile faltered at her lack of response. “You okay?”
“Huh?”
“You kind of spaced out.”
Ann blinked—once, twice. “Sorry, I was—” The rush of traffic on the other side of the sidewalk startled her. She looked back behind her shoulder and found the subway exit standing some thirty feet away. She glanced at her phone, then quickly typed her reply. She’d already sent it and stashed the phone back inside her bag before Ren could take a peek at it.
“Were you waiting for me?” Ann asked instead, adjusting her bag straps around her shoulder.
Ren’s gaze was searching, but when Ann said nothing, he didn’t press the subject. He nodded down the pavement toward their school. “Let’s go,” he said, his lips breaking into a small smile.
***
“It’s from Shiho,” Ann said later that day. On lunch break, she sat on her desk, leaning against the window while she ate the melonpan she’d bought at the cafeteria. The sweetness exploded in her mouth. Ren’s dark gray eyes flitted upward, meeting hers for only a moment. “The text message I received this morning. She wished me a happy birthday.”
“That’s nice.” Ren responded with a nod, taking a bit bite of his tuna-flavored rice ball.
Ann waited for more, but no other answer came. “That’s it?” she asked.
“What else?”
She didn’t know. Some kind of surprised reaction, maybe? Or asked how Shiho was doing?
“She’s your best friend,” Ren went on. “You try not to show it, but I know how much you miss her.”
Ann pursed her lips into a thin line. She averted her gaze to her bread now held on her lap.
“How is she, though?” he added.
“Good, it seems, at least from her texts.” Amazing, in fact. Now she just needed to wait until the doctors let Shiho travel. Or, wait, she had a better idea. Ann turned around in her seat and fully faced Ren. “Do you think we should go see her?”
“What?”
“She’s been pestering me to visit, saying there’s a confectionery store with all manner of sweets near her school. She said they’re really good.”
Ren chuckled. “Do you wanna meet her or do you wanna eat some sweets?” he said. Ann responded with one of her own, leaning back against the window.
“Do you remember when I told you about Shiho?” she asked.
Her voice was quiet under the cacophony of her classmates’ gossips and talks. She hoped her voice reached no one but Ren. From the corner of her eyes, she could see she had his full attention.
“We only met in middle school, but it always felt like I knew her my entire life. She was this weird girl, quiet. While everyone avoided me, she just… randomly struck a conversation with me, saying my painting sucked.” The memory prompted a wry grin spreading across her face. “My parents were always away, so my house was always empty. When Shiho learned about this, she started taking me to all sorts of places. Pastry shops. Bakeries. These cute accessory stores or just shopping for clothes. Sometimes, I go with her to visit some sports stores or help her practice before big games. I never missed her games…”
Ann trailed off. It seemed like it was just yesterday when they were perusing the stores in Shibuya’s underground mall. Shiho had never tasted the buffet’s chocolate fountain either. When Ann went to visit her, maybe she could bring Shiho a crepe from that stand in Central Street Shiho loved so much. The small pang in her heart returned, clenching a little tighter.
After school, Ann refrained herself from pestering Ren to tell her where they were going. It was going to be a surprise, and she was content to let it stay that way. They rode the train to Shibuya and hopped off at the station. She half-expected Ren to lead her out and into Central Street, but they headed for the Keio Inokashira Line, where they boarded another train heading for Inokashira Park.
“We’re going to Inokashira Park?” Ann asked once they boarded the train and found an empty spot between a man in a suit and a woman carrying groceries.
“Yep,” he replied, but didn’t elaborate.
That was unexpected, though Ann wouldn’t say she minded going there. It had been a while, and strolling through the vast park under beautiful autumn leaves might be a great way to spend her birthday.
The ride took 20 minutes, give or take. They descended from the train, then exited the station to a quiet residential area. The park lay only a short walk away. Over a stone bridge crossing the river, trees with gold and brown leaves lined the path on both sides. Ann breathed in the crisp afternoon air, cool against her lungs. She always loved it here.
“So,” Ann said, turning around on her side and peering into his eyes. “What’s the plan?”
“Want me to tell you, or would you prefer it be a surprise?” He’d kept walking with hands in his pockets, his lips curving into the beginning of a smile.
Ann grinned. “Surprise me.”
Ren grinned back.
The first agenda of the day was a swan boat—one of the top tourist attractions of the park. Ren had apparently accompanied Yusuke on a ride once, where several people had thought them a couple. He had wanted to ride it with Ann after that. But when the rental place came into view, standing in the distance over the bank of the large pond, Ann ground her feet to a halt. Legend had it that the Goddess Benzaiten would curse any couple who rode the swan boat together. They would break up shortly thereafter.
“You really want to ride the boat?” Ann asked.
Noticing she had stayed back, Ren paused on his steps, tilting his head in genuine inquiry. “Why?” he asked. Ann refused to say why, partly because it was a ludicrous legend, partly because she feared the legend might come true. Understanding dawned on his face when she said nothing, and Ren pulled his lips into a teasing grin. “What, you’re afraid of some superstition?”
There were valid reasons one should be afraid of it. What if something bad truly happened to them and they broke up?
“If something bad truly happens and we break up,” Ren went on, “you can just blame the curse and forget all about me.”
Ann scoffed, feeling his reply was ridiculous enough to lighten her mood. “I could never forget you,” she said. Her answer brought a smile to his face, and Ren reached out to take her hand.
“That’s why I’m saying we should get on the boat and prove the legend wrong. Besides, would you really let some curse get between us?”
The answer was obvious as Ann felt her lips pulled into a quiet grin. He tugged her hand, then led her to the boat rental place.
It was her first time riding the boat too. It seemed fun, but she never had the chance to ride it. “Next time” had been her reason. If she thought about it now, there were no particular reasons behind it. Why? She could’ve ridden on it with Shiho if she wanted. Had Ann ingrained the curse so deep in her mind that she became incapacitated because of it? Because even without the bad luck, her life had already been a hell of its own.
People had shunned her. Some had even bullied her. She’d tried not to let it get to her, but for a twelve- or thirteen-year-old, peer pressure had been enough to corner her and make her think of the worst. Should I dye my hair black and wear contact lenses? If I look like everyone else, people may start to like me. These thoughts had spiraled down in her mind with no signs of stopping. She was always alone; her parents were never home. She had no one to depend on—until Shiho, but even that light only lasted three years before she was taken away from her.
Paddling the swan boat was harder than it looked. And with a difference in strength, it was hard to coordinate their movements. Ann would think their time in the metaverse had strengthened her muscles, but that did not seem like the case.
“You don’t look like it, but you’re pretty strong, aren’t you?” Ann said, huffing and puffing her breath.
Ren wasn’t entirely active in gym class either. He wasn’t the strongest nor the fastest. When the boys played soccer or basketball, he would always sit back. “I hate breaking a sweat,” he’d said once. Yet every time they were in the metaverse, he always looked like he was ready to show off.
Ren chuckled under his breath. “I’ve been going to the gym. Morgana nagged me to strengthen my muscles.”
Figures. The cat was behind everything. She should follow his example and visit the gym more often.
Wait—
“Whereis Morgana?” Ann hadn’t seen him since morning.
Ren’s smile was wry. “When I told him I’ll be going on a date with you, he turned around and flicked his tail at me.”
“Poor guy. You should buy him something. What about sushi?”
“I should buy yousomething.”
Ann clicked her tongue in irritation then stared him down, her eyes hard. “You never gave him those tuna sushi, right?” He never did, from all the way back in August—Ann knew. Ren quickly relented, averting his gaze and finding some interesting spot to observe on the water. “It won’t be the high-end sushi bar like in Ginza, but I’m sure there are some delicious ones around here.”
“Then,” he said, “we’re having sushi for dinner.”
***
Massive trees lined the pond on either side. In the spring, pink and white sakura petals decorated the trees in its transient beauty. Ann often sat on the benches, under the awning of the low-hanging branches and overlooking the pond. She imagined that rowing a boat in the middle of it would feel like traversing through a forest. The thick foliage obscured the view of passers-by and park-goers, making it seem like she was in a dreamscape or fantasy, where there was only herself and nature.
That was what Ann felt now that she was sitting on a boat in the middle of the pond. But instead of sakura, the trees were now lined with gold and red and yellow with a dash of green here and there. They had stopped paddling, resting their legs. They’d gone quite far, their boat rocking between the gentle waves. Late sunlight dappled across the water surface. When a cool, crisp wind that brushed past her skin like a soft caress against her face, Ann watched the water rippling along with it. By the bank, leaves danced in the wind, swirling and dipping and soaring high until they flew out of sight.
“Having fun?” Ren asked. Ann nodded, drawing a quiet, contented breath. She felt his smile more than she saw it, before he shifted his gaze away and said, “I heard you’ve been wanting to ride the boat.”
That caught her attention. She turned to him.
“Who did you hear it from?”
“Shiho.” The answer rolled easily off his tongue, as though it was apparent. If Ren were any other person, Ann would have thought he might have heard it in passing or from Shiho herself. But he barely knew Shiho—barely talked to her before the incident in April—so how could he have known? He didn’t give her a chance to ask before he glanced behind his shoulder and said, “The sun almost set.”
The far eastern sky had grown a deep blazing orange while the sun made its slow descent behind them, sending out the last of its rays before dipping under the horizon. Ann swallowed her question as she moved to paddle alongside Ren to turn the boat around. They’d gotten the hang of it, finding the perfect rhythm between his paddling and hers. They reached the rental space by the time the sun completely disappeared.
Hand in hand, they headed for the gate leading toward Kichijoji. Various kinds of stores stood on both sides. From second-hand boutiques to chic cafes, furniture stores and handmade accessory stores. Ren’s focus had been on his phone for a while, typing one-handed as text message after text message came with each vibration and incoming beep.
“Who’re you talking with?” Ann asked.
“Hm? Oh, Sojiro.” The slight pause had tugged her curiosity, but when he met her inquiring gaze, Ren only said, “He’s making sure I don’t go home too late.”
That was nice, Ann thought, to have someone to worry about when he would get home. She didn’t have anyone like that.
Ren messed with his phone for a while longer. When Ann peeked, she noticed the map open on his screen. ‘Sushi bar’ was the search item and several red dots had appeared. Ren clicked and unclicked each dot, reading the descriptions and the reviews left on it, until he finally decided on a place and led her to it.
His phone beeped again. Another incoming message. Ann glanced at him right as Ren sent his reply.
“Boss again?”
Sojiro didn’t seem like the type to worry so much. Hadn’t he let Ren out on nights? Ren’s ambiguous nod only fed her suspicion that he was hiding something. She opened her mouth then, about to say something, when they rounded a corner and a voice she hadn’t expected to hear reach her ear.
“Ann.”
Ann froze.
Soft and meek, it was a voice she hadn’t heard in person for months. The last time Ann heard it was when they brought her to the school rooftop before she moved away. Ann slowly turned around in search of the source, and there, some twenty feet ahead, was a person she hadn’t expected to see. Dressed in a navy-blue jacket and white cropped trousers, her black hair tied in its usual ponytail, Shiho’s features lit up by the smile blossoming across her face. She held her hand high above her head, waving at her excitedly.
“Aren’t you going to say hi?” Ren asked when Ann failed to react.
He was beaming, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Did he know? Did he plan this? Nonsense. Didn’t he know how far Shiho’s home now was? How had she even gotten to this place? On a school day, no less. Then there was her message that morning. Sorry we can’t celebrate together like we used to. Shiho wouldn’t have said that if she’d planned to come. She wasn’t the type to surprise Ann like this. But—
I’m sure Ren-kun has prepared something amazing for you.
Ann slowly shifted her attention to her still-beaming boyfriend, who was nodding his head toward Shiho as if trying to say, go on. Go to her.
“Did you plan this?” Her voice was only above a whisper.
He replied with a shrug and a knowing smile. Maybe he thought this was what she wanted, and maybe it was—she’d said so herself; she wanted to meet Shiho. But as Ann loosened her hold on Ren’s hand and all she wanted was to cross the distance and hug Shiho with all her might—because Shiho was here! She’d travelled all the way here!—Ann found herself hitting Ren’s arm instead. Again and again and again—hitting him with a fist as, one by one, tears rolled down her cheeks.
Why did he bring Shiho here? Didn’t Ren know her friend was still in recovery? Didn’t he know she was still going to rehab every week? Ann knew, because Ann had been in touch with Shiho every other day. They’d texted each other and called each other. Ann knew everything that was going on in Shiho’s life as though she lived it herself. And Ann knew that every day was still a struggle, even though Shiho had said she could almost do everything by herself now. But almost was still not one hundred percent everything. Her physician praised her for improving so much in so little time, but they’d told her to not push her limit. And travelling was clearly pushing the limit.
What if something bad happened to Shiho on the way? What if Shiho could never return to how she once was?
Arms wrapped around her. Shiho rested her cheek on Ann’s shoulder, warm tears seeping into her school blazer.
“I’m alright, Ann,” Shiho whispered to her ear, over and over like a mantra. “I’m safe.”
***
“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Ren said before he disappeared from the bar. Ann watched him leave from their seat by the corner. They’d ordered several sushi sets, Ren promising to pay for everything. From his part-time jobs, he’d explained to Shiho. Though there was probably some truth to his words, Ann knew most of it came from their Palace pilfering.
Silence descended, broken only when Shiho said, “Don’t blame him too much, Ann.”
Ann glanced at her friend before shifting her gaze to her hands. “I’m happy you’re here with me now, Shiho, but…” She shook her head. “Once we return, I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. How could he have thought of bringing you all the way back to Tokyo?” If their sushi had arrived, Ann imagined she would have taken out her irritation on them. It’s not that she disliked Shiho’s presence. Just that…
“I wanted to.” Shiho’s quiet reply drew Ann’s attention to her. “I want to celebrate your birthday with you. And more than anything, I wanted to show you how well I’ve gotten.” Her lips quirked into a small smile, brightening her features. “And it’s not like I went alone. Mom’s here somewhere.”
“Your mom?”
Shiho gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “I got an earful, though.”
“Serves you right! If you wanted us to meet, I could’ve gone to your place instead. In fact, we were just talking about that this afternoon.”
“But that wouldn’t have been a surprise.”
A muscle twitched along Ann’s jaw as Shiho let out another light laugh. Ann clenched both of her hands on the table, gritting her teeth at her friend’s nonchalant attitude.
“Don’t overestimate your body, Shiho, please. Didn’t the doctor say you shouldn’t push yourself? You’re not your one hundred percent yet. What if something irreversibly bad happens? Yes, it’s great to hear your health has gotten better and I can’t wait to hang out with you again, but—”
Shiho’s crippled form flashed across her mind. Her throat closed up; tears sprang in her eyes as Ann furiously blinked them away. When she spoke next, she couldn’t hide the tremble in her voice:
“I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” If Shiho’s rush to return to her full potential backfired, Ann didn’t know if she could forgive herself.
The server brought their sushi with three glasses of cold green tea. Ann averted her gaze, brushing at a stray tear as she took out her phone and mumbled something about telling Ren the food had arrived. However, before she could, Shiho’s hand encompassed hers.
“Do you still blame yourself?” her friend asked.
Ann went still. “I don’t,” she said, even as her heart clenched tight and her breath caught in her throat.
“It’s not your fault, Ann.”
She knew that. She thought she did. That was why Carmen woke up from inside her. But then there were moments when she lay in the dark, when thoughts she never knew she ever had kept her awake the entire night.
Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. You should’ve noticed the signs. You should’ve known she was suffering. Even if there had been nothing you could’ve done, you should’ve been there for her at the least. You’re her friend! Why had you let her feel so alone, so cornered, that the only consolation she could find was on the other side of the rooftop ledge?
Shiho pulled her into her arms, whispering soothing words to her ear. “It’s alright. It’s okay. I’m fine. It’s not your fault, Ann. It never was.”
The dam broke. Ann clutched onto Shiho’s back as tears she never realized she had held streamed down her face.
***
Maybe it was an excuse—checking up on Shiho, or going to the sweets store near her school. All Ann ever wanted was to see her friend healthy again so they could have fun like they used to.
When Ren returned to his seat, Ann ended up giving him a piece of her mind. A little more nagging and scolding and refusing to speak with him for the rest of the day. Shiho joked that it must have been Benzaiten’s curse, at which Ren laughed and Ann frowned.
“We’re not breaking up,” Ann said with certainty.
Shiho and Ren looked at her in surprise, after which Shiho said to Ren, “You heard her, Ren-kun.” They snickered at Ann’s expanse.
Shiho’s mother had gone to Kichijoji’s shopping arcade before she went to pick her daughter up at the sushi bar. Ann drew an internal sigh of relief when she saw no signs of vexations on her face as she greeted Ann with a smile. When the girls introduced Ren, however, there was a frozen stillness to her features that even made the unflappable Ren break out in sweats.
They waved her goodbye, but before they turned around the corner to wherever her mother parked her car, Shiho turned around once and shouted, “Come over sometimes, okay?” Shiho beamed, waving her hand high, then disappeared from view.
“You heard her,” Ren said. She did.
Ren offered his hand, but Ann only spared it a glance before turning her back on him and heading down the opposite direction from Shiho. Ren fell into step beside her.
“I’ll walk you home,” he said.
“No need.”
“Even so.”
Night had fallen. Lights flickered along the storefronts and windows. Conversations floated around as they walked in silence between passers-by in the shopping district.
As they turned the corner and headed back toward the park, Ann murmured, “Thanks.”
She’d acted strong—acted like she had accepted everything. That was never the case. A part of her—an insecure part of her—always came in the middle of the night to whisper despicable things about herself. Fake. Impostor. She only joined the Phantom Thieves because she felt guilty about Shiho. She’d sought to change the hearts of vile adults so no one would have to suffer like her again. It was true, but that was only half of the truth. In all honesty, Ann wanted to seek forgiveness. A redemption. If she accomplished many good deeds, maybe the Gods would hear her prayer and give Shiho her health back.
As the park came into view, Ann felt Ren’s gaze on her. She still refused to meet it, but let her face break into a tiny crack of a smile. The twinge of pain in her heart gradually subsided, leaving her feeling liberated, as though a heavy weight had been lifted off her mind.
Summary: On a blazing summer morning, after a photoshoot that ended early due to the scorching heat, Ann found a new coffee shop that just opened on Central Street. As she sent Ren a picture of her cake and blended chocolate drink, she recalled of a time when Ren taught her how to use the siphons a month before he returned to his hometown. When winter was almost over, but a chill still hung in the air.
Note: This was supposed to be my piece for the digital Persona Love Webzine, but since that project was cancelled, I decided to post this on Ann Week 2020 :)
“One double chocolate chip frappe and one slice of cheesecake.” The waiter, having recited her order, glanced up from his note. “Anything else, Miss?”
Ann stared at the list of cakes on the menu. The red velvet and fruit tarts looked tempting. Or maybe she should add the quiche. But her manager’s voice rang out in her ears—to cut down on her snacks and sweets—so Ann closed the menu and smiled at the waiter.
“That’s all, thanks,” she said.
A faint blush. The waiter nodded and jotted down on his notepad before scurrying off to the counter on the other side of the shop. He spoke to his friends behind it, who then glanced over their shoulders to look at her, only to duck their heads again when they found her staring back. Ann couldn’t keep herself from giggling.
She had been on a shoot nearby, and even though it was only 10 AM, the sun had already been blazing hot that the shoot ended early. The staff had said they would continue in the afternoon, hoping the heat would have cooled by then. So as Ann drifted away from the crew and wondered if she should wait at home, she spotted the little café tucked between a clothing store and sundries shop—a newly opened coffee shop on Central Street that was featured in last month’s magazine. She had been wanting to visit the place, but with gigs, interviews, and college, Ann hadn’t found the right time to go.
Sweat rolled down her temple. Ann was already sitting beneath the air conditioner, but even that only helped so much. She took off her cap, tied her hair to a tail, and fanned herself.
“I’m sorry for the wait.”
The waiter from before came with her cheesecake on a tray. A slice of yellowish-white goodness with a whipped cream and cherry on top that made her mouth water. He set the plate down in front of her.
“It’s quite hot today, isn’t it?” he went on. “Do you want me to turn the temperature down?”
“That’s fine, thanks,” Ann replied. The sight of her cheesecake was enough to cool her down. She couldn’t wait to dig in. “I’ll just rest for a bit.”
The waiter nodded but didn’t seem to move. When Ann looked up, she met his expectant gaze. “I’m sorry if this is rude of me, but I can’t help but notice,” he began after a moment of fidgeting on his feet. There were only a few other customers present, but he leaned his head down and dropped his voice to a whisper. “You’re the model Ann Takamaki, right?”
Ann blinked in surprise. Then again, she hadn’t put the effort to disguise herself. Only a pair of sunglasses and a cap—which she was using as a fan. Her lips parted into a practiced, effortless smile.
“Could you keep it quiet, please? I’d rather not draw attention to myself,” she said with a finger to her lips. The waiter nodded, too eager for his own good. He said something about her frappe being ready soon and that he hoped she enjoyed her stay before leaving for the counter again.
It felt strange, watching the waiter talk animatedly with his coworkers, who occasionally spared her glances between putting coffee beans in a grinder or pouring blended drinks into cups. Was it because she had been putting more effort into her modelling lately? Ann couldn’t walk down the streets without being noticed anymore. Her cap and sunglasses had become her best friend, but with summer on the way, there had been no way she could have hidden herself beneath a cowl or some sort.
Ann grabbed the small silver spoon the waiter had set for her and sliced into her cheesecake. Soft and creamy, the cake melted the moment it entered her mouth. Still cool, fresh from the refrigerator. Ann squealed in delight. Who was it who said she shouldn’t snack in the morning? Though would this count as a snack? How many calories would she have to burn today, including her frappe that had yet to come?
“Here’s your double chocolate chip frappe, Miss.” The same waiter placed a glass of blended chocolate in front of her. Look at that whipped cream! Topped with chocolate syrup and sprinkled with chocolate chips.
Ann thanked the waiter before sipping her drink, pulling the straw out to swipe at the cream along with the syrup and chips. She broke into a jubilant grin. So cool. So sweet. Just the perfect thing she needed to ward off the last of the summer heat from her skin. What her manager didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
She fished for her phone from inside her bag and positioned her frappe and half-eaten cheesecake in front of her. She set to take a picture, but then opened her messaging app and clicked on Ren’s chat at the top.
‘What are you doing?’ she typed. Ren was on an out-of-town trip with his college friends for an assignment. Ann wasn’t jealous, not when her boyfriend was trekking through a village in this scorching heat.
His reply came not a minute later: ‘Taking a break.’ He followed it with a picture of him and his three other friends in a Japanese-style restaurant. Mount Fuji soared into the clear, cloudless blue sky, its snow-capped tip just visible beyond the square window panes. ‘I’ll be back this afternoon.’
Ann took a picture of her frappe and cake and sent it to him. ‘Jealous?’ She added a lot of smirking and grinning emojis.
‘Heh. It’s not as hot here as it is there.’
Ann could almost see him smirking. Jerk. She couldn’t help but giggle.
‘A café just opened in Central Street,’ she said. ‘They have these siphons too, like the ones in Leblanc.’
‘Ahh, yeah, I think someone mentioned that before. Remember how you messed up Leblanc when I taught you how to use them?’
Ann paused. ‘What?’
‘The siphons.’
It took her a moment to remember. Something that happened before Ren moved back to his hometown. When winter was almost over, but a chill still hung in the air.
***
Ann sat at the counter with a magazine in hand. The quiet hum of conversation filled her senses. An anchor spoke in a news program while Sojiro sat by the cash register, reading a newspaper.
Ann flipped through her magazine, trying hard to make sense of the words. She skimmed through the pages, stopping only at the pretty pictures of far-off islands and expensive resorts. A yawn threatened to swallow her face, but she held it in, eyes blinking back tired tears as she flipped another page.
A snort came from up ahead. Ren, now standing by the siphons, was masterfully navigating the intricate device. Ann pulled her lips into a scowl.
“What?” she said, her voice clipped.
“You can take a nap upstairs if you want,” he replied with a chuckle.
She would, but Ann didn’t want to waste what’s left of her precious time with Ren napping in his room. Even if that precious time was only her sitting there and watching him work. She picked up another scent of coffee as Ren added tablespoons of soft grounds into boiling water. After quick, gentle stirs and all the coffee grounds submerged, Ren set the paddle down and lowered the heat.
“I can’t concentrate when you’re staring like that,” he said, setting a timer on his phone. His tone was firm, but he was smiling.
Ann blinked, then smirked, propping her elbows on the counter and leaning her chin between her fingers. “What, did I make your heart flutter?”
“Stupid.” Ren gave her forehead a gentle flick. “My heart’s been fluttering since the moment I saw you.”
Maybe if he’d grinned or snickered or showed any signs that he was teasing, Ann would have taken it in stride and laughed it off. But Ren was serious and his voice matter-of-fact, as though it was an indisputable, universal truth. Ann’s face burned. Before she could come up with a reply, Sojiro’s stern voice broke through their banter.
“Can you kids please keep the flirting to a minimum? We still have customers, you know.” The middle-aged proprietor spared them a glance from his seat, one corner of his lips tugged into a teasing grin.
Right. Ann dropped her gaze to her magazine, but not before catching Ren’s smirk. She gaped at him. He was teasing her!
“That’s alright, Boss,” the old lady said. The elderly couple were the only customers left in the otherwise busy day. They had been sitting at the table behind Ann for almost an hour with nothing but a cup of coffee. “It’s nice seeing young love blossoming in front of you. Isn’t that right, Dear?” she asked her husband sitting across from her.
Her husband nodded, mumbling “right, right,” though his attention was fixed on the television. Ann shared a glance with Ren and was glad to see she wasn’t the only one feeling embarrassed.
“Ah, but I heard you’re leaving soon, son?” the old lady went on. Ren looked up from the siphons. “Boss told me.”
“Oh…” A slight widening of his eyes, Ren’s gaze wavered for a fraction of a second before he resorted to a quiet nod. “Yeah.” He stirred the coffee in the siphon and removed the heat source from the bottom chamber. “I’ll return to my hometown after the semester ends.”
“It’ll be lonely here,” the old man added, sipping his coffee. “It was nice having a fresh face around, unlike the old grump who runs this place.”
“Keep badmouthing me and I’ll charge you twice for the coffee, gramps,” Sojiro chimed from the kitchen.
They all laughed.
The couple finished their coffee and asked for a check. While Sojiro handled the cash register, Ann found her gaze drawn toward the siphons, where the coffee was now making its way back to the bottom chamber. It had always fascinated her—the way they worked. Ren had tried to explain the science behind it, but Ann could never truly grasp it. Something about vapors and pressure and vacuum. Ann enjoyed seeing the water rise to the top beaker before falling back down after the heat source was extinguished, extracting all the essence, aroma, and taste from the grounds. And once everything was finished, a small dome-shaped mound formed over the filter.
“Your coffee, Miss,” Ren said, pushing a cup of the freshly brewed coffee toward her. Ann stared at it, perplexed. She hadn’t ordered a coffee. But before she could ask, Sojiro had cut her off, asking Ren to watch the store while he went out to buy groceries for the evening. The elderly couple had left, and Sojiro was already untying his apron, setting it down on the chair by the register.
Ren replied with an “alright”, but even after his guardian had left, he still didn’t look at her. She followed him with her eyes as he wiped the counter clean, wondering what thoughts hide behind that beautiful poker face. It was not until he stopped and asked, “What?” that Ann shook her head and mumbled, “Nothing.”
I heard you’re leaving soon.
Right. There was only one month left. The coffee swirled dark in her cup. Ann brought the rim to her lips and sipped the thin liquid. Bitter. But satisfying. Ren’s coffee had never failed to put a smile on her face.
“I’m gonna miss your coffee,” she murmured.
A pause in his movements. She felt it more than she saw it, the way his gaze fell on her. He studied her, and for a moment she refused to look up. Ren always had that piercing glare, as if he could see right through her to the deepest, darkest parts of her mind, and right now, Ann didn’t want to feel naked in front of him. But then he called her name, so soft, his voice just above a whisper, and it was an instinctive gesture—the way her eyes met his. The look she saw on his face rooted her to the spot. Gone was the poker face he so often donned. His dark gray orbs were drawn, his lips pulled into the most tender smile she had ever seen on him.
“Want me to teach you how to make them?” he asked.
It was such an unexpected offer that Ann had to take a moment to understand what he meant: the siphons. But… why? What brought it up? Ann tilted her head to the side in puzzlement.
Ever since the first moment she met him, Ann could never guess what Ren was thinking. One moment he was the convicted criminal on probation. The next, he became one of the few people in her life who ever reached out to her, when all the world saw her as nothing but a nuisance. He’d become so dear, and she would not trade him for any other men in the entire world.
Then the tender smile disappeared, replaced by that cheeky yet endearing smirk that pushed her heart to near-bursting.
“Might as well,” Ren added, “so you don’t come crying to me every night on the phone.”
Ann rolled her magazine and slapped him hard on the arm.
“Between you and me, we both know who’s gonna call the other every other night,” she retorted.
“Wanna bet on that?”
He was grinning, and so was she. The next thing she knew, both of them were doubling over with giggles and laughter that neither of them could stop. She drank her perfectly brewed coffee, which, in her opinion, was already better than Sojiro’s, and Sojiro’s was a tough bar to pass. If only he could stay…
Ren quirked an eyebrow when Ann looked at him. “Well,” she said, getting up to her feet. She moved to the other side of the counter and stood in front of the siphons. Blue eyes met gray, and Ann hoped her smile was bright enough to hide her melancholy. “What’s the first step, chef?”
***
How could someone mess up a place just by brewing coffee?
It was supposed to be easy—or, Ren said it was supposed to be easy. “Pour water into the bottom chamber, let it boil over the heat source, see it transform into vapor as the rest go up the siphon into the top chamber. Add coffee grounds, stir, and wait.” The worst she could do was probably the uneven ratio, or the stirring method, or the timer, resulting in a too-thin coffee or too thick. So how had it ended up with coffee splattered all over the counter and a slight blister on Ren’s hand?
‘It was mostly your fault,’ Ann replied in her text.
‘“Mostly” being the key word.’
Ann had been waiting for the timer to go off when suddenly, arms wrapped around her from behind. Ren had rested his chin on her shoulder, making her heart skip a beat.
“Ren?”
“Let me stay like this for a while.” His voice was soft against her ear, and maybe it was the slight tremble she had noticed that made her give in. She’d covered his hand with her own.
“It’ll only be a year,” she’d said. His arms had tightened. “And we have phones. And internet.”
“Are you saying you won’t miss me?”
“Stupid.” A quiet thing, accompanied by a breathy chuckle. Her breath caught in her throat. “Of course I’ll miss you.”
They had stayed like that until the timer went off in a sudden blaring noise. Ann jumped, jerking Ren back a step. Her shoulder knocked his chin.
Between his hiss of pain and Ann’s hasty apology, Ann had turned around in an attempt to check on him. But her elbow bumped against the boiling siphon, and it swayed, then tumbled, but before it could crash, Ren’s hand had shot out and grabbed the handle. Coffee had splashed across the counter and the back of Ren’s fingers burned from grazing the bottom beaker. They’d rushed him to the sink and poured cold tap water over it.
‘You were getting touchy-feely when the coffee was still brewing,’ Ann went on.
‘And you didn’t?’
She had. It had been her precious last month with Ren before he returned to his hometown. Who wouldn’t have gotten sentimental? She could almost hear his laughter. Ann smiled.
‘Anyway, what does that have anything to do with our conversation?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Jerk.’ Ann laughed.
‘Let’s go there sometime,’ came his reply. ‘Together.’
Together. Ann fought hard to keep her smile at bay as she typed in her reply. ‘Let’s.’
Ren had to go, so they bid each other goodbye. Ann stared at her phone screen, exhaling a quiet, contented sigh. It had been a while since their last date. With college and part-time jobs, their quality time had been reduced to movie nights or dinners at her home or his apartment.
Ann couldn’t stop smiling as she sipped her cold blended drink, eyes fluttering upward toward the siphons on the counter. The barista was now brewing coffee to a small group of spectators. Ooh’s and ahh’s erupted from them, and for a moment, she was back in Leblanc, sitting at that counter, watching Ren work the coffee siphons. Her smile grew. It had always been a captivating thing to watch.
Summary: When Akira wakes up, all he can see is an expanse of gray desolate world stretching far into the horizon. A pulsing echo tugs at his heart—a single thought sent to his mind: I’ll come back to you. Come hell or high water, he means to keep that promise. And so he rises to feet and follows that guiding light.
It was not unusual for them to make promises—silly promises they sometimes took as jest. But her voice was firm, her fingers tightening around his. Akira looked to his side and saw Ann staring upward, her gaze hard as she beheld the sea of stars spreading as far as the eye could see. In a voice so quiet that the wind could barely pick it up, her pursed lips parted.
“Let’s promise to meet again. However long it takes. However far apart we are. Someday. Somewhere.”
Around the wrists of their linked hands hung matching red bracelets—ones she’d bought from a traveling merchant who’d recently come to town. The sturdiest thread in all the land, he’d said. So that, should they be separated, they would still be connected.
Akira brushed his thumb over her knuckles. Once upon a time, he’d dreamed of putting a ring there. “Come hell or high water, I’ll come back to you, Ann,” he said. “I promise.” And like a seal, he brought her hand to his face and pressed his lips to her fingers. High above, a star streaked across the heavens, leaving a trail of flaming blue in its wake.
***
Before his eyes stretched an expanse of desolate world. Hard cracked earth melded with the bleak, empty sky. Akira dragged one heavy foot in front of the other, his movement sluggish and slow. How long had he been here? How far had he gone? The world had neither sun nor moon, no light or darkness. The passing of time was but a fever dream, one he’d begun to wonder if it ever existed.
At times, a pulsing echo would spread across the land, coming from the ground or the sky or within his very self. His blood would thrum, like the steady rhythm of a beating heart, sending a single thought to his mind: I’ll come back to you, I promise. But his muscles screamed, his weary bones begged for rest. Akira gritted his teeth and forced himself to move.
Just a little longer, he thought, a little farther; home is just beyond that distant crest.
But the crest never grew closer. The notion of home slowly slipped from his mind. And maybe… maybe he was trapped. Punished. Doomed to never leave this obscure plane. And because of what? He couldn’t remember.
Tripping over a non-existent pebble, Akira’s legs gave away and he collapsed onto the ground. His blood pulsed—the traces of a familiar voice whispering, Getup. But his energy was spent. Darkness crept from the edges of his vision. And just as his eyelids began to close in what he welcomed as a deep slumber, light flashed, bright and warm and making his skin tingle like a newborn baby.
Colors exploded into his mind—images, flitting and fluttering like the flapping of wings of birds taking flight. Of different times and different places, different people with different faces. Sometimes so vague he could barely grasp what was happening, other times so vivid it was as though he was experiencing them himself. And there he was, searching—always searching—but never finding.
Where are you? Where are you? I’m here. But where are you?
Somewhere beyond the void of his mind, his bracelet pulsed. The sturdiest of red threads, now tattered and dirty and gray. Its glow had dimmed, its faint pulse a feeble attempt to make him move. “Get up,” it said. “She’s out there. She’s waiting.”
Who was to know? Who was to know if he’d find her at all?
The thought settled. Whatever strength he’d possessed ebbed away. Akira drew a lungful of breath, and as he surrendered himself into the void, the last vestiges of the echo sputtered out.
***
There was a reason the North Star was used in navigation. Its nearly fixed location due north had helped countless travelers and vagabonds find their way when all seemed lost. Such was what Akira told Ann as they lay on a quiet, grassy hill a short walk away from the city. Her eyes sparkled as they followed the direction of his finger, to where a small gleaming light hung high on the star-painted sky.
“I like that star,” she said. “Can it be my star?”
“What do you mean? It’s everyone’s star.”
“Yes, but it’ll always lead you home, right? So, my star.”
Akira couldn’t comprehend that logic, but the way her smile lit up her face made his stomach flip and flop. He would do anything to protect it. So he nodded, then watched her smile grow.
“If you’re ever lost or couldn’t find your way, just look up at the sky and find my star. You’ll find your way home.”
***
It was an odd sensation—the way consciousness returned. One moment, Akira was stuck in limbo as the remnants of his dream faded; the next, he realized he was staring at the backs of his eyelids. Dread crept into his heart—that he was back, and he had been denied his eternal slumber. But a twittering of birds filled his senses, then a crawling heat on his skin and brightness just beyond his sight. When Akira finally opened his eyes, what greeted him froze him into place.
Bright endless blue stretched as far as the eye could see. No sign of the hazy gray sky. Nothing to say of the endless wasteland. Above him, boughs of a great maple tree provided an all-encompassing shade, and beyond them were puffs of silvery clouds drifting past in a breeze that felt cool and ticklish.
Where was he?
Akira pushed himself off the ground, bones creaking and muscles straining. All around him, greens spread in a mixture of plains and rolling hills. Was this another one of those visions? Was he still in another dream? The questions came in quick successions, when suddenly, footsteps approached from behind. He leaped around, hand going to his hip on instinct for a sword that wasn’t there. But the face that stared back at him stopped him short.
“You’re awake.”
Blue eyes twinkled between voluminous golden hair. The face was sharper, the bones more prominent. A foreigner, one might say, and yet he could not deny the familiarity he felt. And her voice… His tears came unbidden; Akira choked on a lump at the back of his throat.
“Ann,” he croaked. Home. He was home.
Ann’s eyes widened, then after a heartbeat, a tiny smile graced her lips—very much like the one he remembered, and yet…
“Ah, yes, you would know me by that name.”
He blinked. What do you mean? He wanted to say, but his throat was too parched. He could only manage broken grunts and groans.
Ann’s features warmed. She turned around and, nodding for him to follow, said, “Come.”
She led him down the hillslope to a lone little cottage in the valley. Up a short flight of stairs and past a single wooden door, he entered a cozy interior with a table and chairs next to a bubbling pot of what appeared to be stew above a fire. Ann—or, the woman appearing like Ann—moved to the cupboards and reached for a bowl.
“Care for stew?” she asked. She didn’t wait for his answer before she ladled a spoonful or two of the steaming gruel into the ceramic bowl.
Akira watched her set it down on the table before placing a matching spoon beside it. Then, she went back to the water pitcher on the counter and poured him a glass. Crystal clear, the water seemed to sparkle even without the sun hitting the glass.
“Drink.”
It was too good, too much. Fate had never been this kind to him.
“Is this a dream?” he asked.
The woman stared at him before directing her gaze to the water. “Almost a thousand years have passed since the last time you spoke. Drink, lest your throat hurt even more.”
A thousand…
“Who are you?”
“I am who you say I am.”
“But…” He swallowed past the dryness. “You said you’re not her.”
“I am her—or, a fragment of her that still lives in your mind.”
Maybe it was the fatigue, or the hunger and dehydration. The woman was not making any sense. A thousand years he’d journeyed with not so much as human contact. This brief interaction had drained him of what energy had prompted him to follow her. She seemed to notice it, because then she pulled a chair and asked him to sit.
A part of him struggled against it, but his feet moved on their own accord, and before he knew it, he’d settled on the wooden chair, the glass of sparkling water in his hand. Drink, the woman said.
Itwas the fatigue. No water had ever looked this appetizing in all his life. It glistened as though diamonds were sprinkled all around it.
Drink, she said, so you can meet her again.
And against his better judgment, he did.
***
The stars were never in their favor; it had taken him long to realize that. Not when they branded his father a traitor and stripped him of his title. Not when they executed him and he and his mother had to flee the city. And when his squire came to him with the gravest of news, Akira’s faith that Fate would someday be kinder to him crumbled away.
“They’re persecuting them, my lord—the Takamaki Family.”
It didn’t take long for him to grab his sword and grab his horse, riding past raging rivers and dark, overgrown forests to where the city he once called home stood at the foot of a mountain. The smoke blasted his senses just as he neared the Takamaki manor, his horse rearing at the sight of the blazing inferno.
Ann!came the gut-wrenching thought screaming in his mind.
Akira leaped off his horse and rushed into the masses. The air reeked of the stench of burning flesh. All around him, servants of the House lay on the ground, coughing and wheezing and moaning their wounds. But none of them were the Lord and Lady of the Takamaki household. None of them were Ann.
“Lord Akira?” a voice called over the clamor. A familiar face peeked from beneath a familiar helmet. One of the guards carrying a limping elderly man emerged from the gate.
“Hiro!” Akira ran toward him, helped him as they set the man down on the ground. “Hiro, what happened?”
“They’ve taken His Lordship, my lord. He’s in custody.”
“On what charges!?”
“The same ones they charged the late Lord Kurusu with.”
It didn’t make any sense. Whatever foul play had happened behind those doors, Akira had thought they had specifically targeted his father. Hence why, when he and his mother fled, they had cut off all ties with their close relations. Except… he had made that promise, and they had still exchanged letters. Had those people found them?
Akira made to bolt into the flames, but Hiro caught his arm.
“Don’t, my lord, lest you want them to find you inside and drop more charges onto His Lordship. Your being here already endangers yourlifeand House Takamaki.”
Akira gritted his teeth. “But Ann—”
Hiro’s grip on his arm tightened, so hard that it grounded Akira and cleared the desperation from his mind. He was not, however, prepared for Hiro’s grim expression.
“The Young Mistress is missing.”
It was like a bomb that robbed him of all reason.
“What…?”How?
No one knew. After Lord Takamaki’s arrest, no matter how futile it was, Ann had been doing everything she could to prove her father’s innocence, even as the situation grew more despondent each day. But one day, she’d come out of her room, looking excited, and said she’d found a lead. She’d left for the town, but never came back.
“We’ve scoured the entire city and surrounding areas, but nothing.” Hiro pursed his lips. “Not even a body.”
Akira curled his hands, nails digging deep into his skin to keep him sane.
“So, please, my lord, find her.”
If this had started from their letters… If he had caused this tragedy…
No, he would not let himself think that. Ann was out there, alone and cold in the wilderness, with no knowledge of navigation safe for the North Star he’d told her when they were children.
Come hell or high water, he’d find her. He’d promised.
***
Akira gasped, tears spilling from his eyes as he gazed at the murky haze of his desolate sky. The vision had dissipated, but the scorching heat was still fresh in his mind, the smoke suffocating his lungs. And Hiro’s grip…
Find her.
“Have you remembered?”
Her voice. How much he’d missed her voice.
A sob escaped him; Akira shuddered as he took a breath. “Is this my punishment?” he asked. “Because I failed her?” High and low, for miles across, he’d searched for her. Into the deepest oceans, over the highest mountain. But nothing. Not even a body or a trace of blood. As though she’d disappeared. As though she’d never existed. The stars had never been in their favor.
“Of course not,” came the voice’s reply. “It wasn’t your fault. It never was. You were only caught in life’s events. And maybe Fate had not dealt you the best odds, but you were so fixated on your guilt, you’d let yourself believe that is what Fate decreed. But nothing is farther from the truth than that. The stars have always been in your favor, Akira. You need only know where to look.”
“What do you mean?”
A single pulse echoed from his wrist. Akira peered at his bracelet, red and glimmering in faint light.
“I am the bond which binds you. As long as I am here, know that you are still connected. Look, the clouds part.”
He didn’t believe it, yet he found himself raising his gaze nonetheless. And there, indeed, the haze dispersed, and beyond stretched the blanket of blue and black. A single star shone, twinkling in the darkness.
If you’re ever lost, just look up at the sky and find my star.
Could he dare to hope? After an eternity of this desolate place, walking countless lifetimes without finding her, could he hold out and hope once more?
The star sparkled in the distance, and.in his mind, he could see her face light up with that brilliant beam. Akira! she’d call him. His bracelet pulsed, sending strength he had thought long lost to him. A hand, warm and gentle, enveloped his.
“Get up.”
For the first time, Akira felt a smile breaking through his lips. Slow, but sure. He pushed himself off the ground, fighting against the fatigue weighing down his bones. The star glinted in the distance, promising him that this time, he would find his home.
“It might have taken me a thousand years, but come hell or high water, I’ll come back to you,” he whispered to himself. “I promise you, Ann.”
Ann froze at the sight of a single white flower in her shoe locker that afternoon. This was the third time she had received it, and like its predecessors, it had neither name nor note attached to it.
A pair of familiar voices rose above the hum of conversation at the school’s entrance hall. They sounded close—too close—and before she could think, Ann slammed her locker shut so hard the people around her jumped in surprise. She hoped they hadn’t noticed. But as her heart thundered in her chest, Ann noticed they’d gone quiet.
The silence was deafening.
“What’s wrong, Ann?” Ryuji asked.
“Nothing—” Ann half-turned, one hand still on her locker. But her voice sounded unnaturally high, and she barely stopped herself from grimacing.
Ryuji broke into a grin. “You’re hiding something,” he said, stalking towards her with hands in his pockets, his grin grew wide at her obvious discomfort. “A love letter?”
A joke. It was a joke. But the thought hit too close that Ann was caught between a stutter and a scoff. She willed her face not to go red even as her pulse picked up its speed. “Are you stupid?”
“Then what’s—”
“Ryuji,” Ren called from the other end of the locker, where he was changing his indoor shoes for his outdoor ones. “Ogikubo.”
A single word. That was all it took to make Ryuji huff and shuffle toward his own locker. “Aren’t you curious?” she heard him say. Ren only shrugged.
Her heart still drummed in her ears when Ren closed his locker and turned around. Ann didn’t realize she was staring until their eyes met. He offered her a smile that pulled at her heartstrings and Ann hoped her face didn’t betray her emotions.
“See you tomorrow,” he said with a wave of his hand before nudging Ryuji on the shoulder and nodded toward the doorway. Ryuji looked back only to give her a small nod of farewell, then joined his friend who had gone out ahead of him.
***
“Maybe it really is from Ren,” Shiho said on the phone later that night. Her friend was the only one who knew about the flowers.
Ann scoffed, turning to her side on her bed. “Haven’t we ruled him out of the potential suspects?”
“Don’t call them suspects,” Shiho said, laughing.
Ann shrugged. “They could be a mistake. Or even a prank.” She could imagine it—Ryuji coming up with such an elaborate joke. Though maybe he wouldn’t have thought of using flowers?
“Then why do you keep bringing them home?”
On instinct, Ann looked up at her desk, where three white flowers stood in a glass vase a little to the corner by the window, where they would get a lot of sunlight in the day. The corners of her lips quirked up. Dark green leaves beneath layers of voluminous white petals. Like a rose, but not exactly a rose. Beautiful.
Whydid she bring them home? Because she felt sorry? With no name and no note, Ann couldn’t know for sure they were for her. She couldn’t return them nor could she give them to their true recipients.
“Anyway,” she went on, “It couldn’t be Ren. He wasn’t even interested in it.”
Shiho’s voice seemed to be caught between a sigh and a laugh. “If he’s not the least bit interested, that can mean two things: either he’s not interested in you, or he’s the one who sent it to you.”
“Or he’s just being respectful.”
Shiho sighed. “Ann—” she began, but whatever she was going to say was cut short, because Ann could hear a distant voice calling for her friend and Shiho answered it with a, “Be right there, Mom!” She had to leave. “Don’t think too much about it, Ann,” she said.
The call ended. Ann stared at the blank screen for several silent moments before letting the phone fall onto her bed. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Maybe Shiho was right. It’s not that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind but admitting it could mean her loss. They had only known each other for several months, but they were friends and they were comrades. She knew for sure Ren had never seen her like that.
As though summoned by her thoughts, her phone beeped. She looked to see a text notification from Ren and paused, staring at the name for a few more moments before the realization finally hit her and she sat up straight, her heartbeat skyrocketing.
‘You owe me one.’
Ann stared at the message, then carefully typed, ‘What do you mean?’
His reply came not even a minute later. ‘The love letter.’
Her heart constricted. It was one thing when Ryuji said it, but when those words came from Ren—
‘It’s not a love letter!’
‘Then what is it?’
It’s…
Ann paused, then deleted the word. What could she say? That they were flowers? That was the same as admitting the love letter.
‘What,’she paused, then braced herself as she added, ‘Are you jealous?’
‘Pfft! Jealous? Me?’
The reply didn’t come as quick as before, but still, her heart stung. See, she wanted to tell Shiho. It couldn’t be from Ren. Ann wanted to laugh at herself for even thinking otherwise.
However, just as Ann was typing her reply, another message came. ‘Do you want me to be?’
Ann’s fingers jerked to a stop. She waited a moment, then another, but Ren didn’t say anything else, and neither did she.
Ann didn’t know what to say. Her brain had stopped working at all the implications his question could have and it made her heart race. She could just picture it—him lying on his bed in the cluttered attic that was his room, holding his phone up above his head, waiting for her reply.
She almost told herself to throw the phone and forget the conversation ever existed. She almost convinced herself that he was joking, that she was thinking too much and she should hurry and say something before he thought she was taking things too seriously and he’d feel bad and she’d be embarrassed and—
Her phone beeped again. Ann looked at the screen. A new message had appeared. ‘Sorry, that was a joke.’
That was a joke. She should have known. But her jaws were tense, and her fingers clutched her phone so tight her knuckles went white. Ann drew a breath and loosened her muscles, gulping air past the lump in her throat.
It was a joke.
But why did her heart clench so painfully?
***
The idea came to her in the middle of the night. If she didn’t know who it’s from, Ann could just catch the culprit in the act. She set out to stake out her locker the next day. She’d hide behind the wall around the corner, with bread on one hand and her phone on the other, scrolling through it while occasionally glancing up to spot if anyone had gotten near her shoe locker at all.
No one appeared during lunch break. She decided she could extend her mission to the hours after school, but even then, no one went anywhere near her locker or lingered long enough to have slipped something inside. They couldn’t have put the flower inside in the early mornings, could they? Ann would have found the flowers when she came to school. But all this while, she had only found them after school was over.
“You’re here early,” Ren said one morning before class started. Outside, clouds that had gathered since early morning had broken and rain was drizzling. With her head on her table, the hum of conversation in the background, complete with a chill in the air and the fact that she had woken up an hour earlier, had lulled her into sleep, woken up only by the sound of Ren’s voice and the scrap of chair against tile.
Ann gave a noncommittal grunt as she sat up straight and stifled a yawn.
“Didn’t get enough sleep?”
She didn’t. She couldn’t get her mind off the flowers that she only fell asleep after midnight. Shiho had said Ann was being too obsessed. “Doesn’t it make your heart flutter, though?” her friend had asked last night.
It did. Her heart fluttered every time she saw them, thinking that someone out there thought of her enough to give her flowers. No one had done that before. Yet that’s exactly why she hated it.
“What happened with the love letter?” Ren suddenly asked.
Her eyes ablaze, Ann whipped her head around and hissed, “It’s not a love letter!”
“Sorry.” Ren raised his hands and backed away, as far as the back of his seat allowed him. “Just that you’ve been hanging around your locker a lot recently—” He paused, his gray eyes narrowing. “Don’t tell me—did you stake out your locker this morning?”
Ann pursed her lips and looked away. She heard a quiet snort and glared up at him. “Sorry,” Ren muttered, averting his gaze, finding purchase at something on his lap.
Ann stared at him for a couple moments before leaning her back against the window.
“It’s not a love letter,” she began, her voice soft. Gaze locked on the cuticles of her nails, she fisted her hands and braced herself. “It’s a flower. That time you saw me was the third.”
She waited for the snort, or the laughter, or any sort of teasing remark or jibe. But none of them came. Only silence. And silence was worse, because it spoke more volume than if he had pestered her like Ryuji.
Ann sneaked a glance from the corner of her eyes and found a perfectly schooled poker face. She scowled. “Forget it—”
“But isn’t that good?” Ren asked just as she turned around to face forward again. Ann’s fingers twitched. That confirmed it, then: Ren wasn’t interested in her at all. The flowers were definitely not from him.
She grabbed her books from her bag. Class would start soon.
“I guess it’s not.” She felt his eyes on the back of her head, but Ann didn’t feel like meeting them.
“You’re not happy with them?” There was a quietness to his voice that made her pause, that made her think twice again and again that maybe she was wrong and Shiho was right, no matter how many times Ann was proven right.
Ann sighed. No more.
“I am,” she quietly said.
“Then…?”
Ann let the question hang. The bell rang not a moment later and everyone took their seats. All throughout class, Ann would feel his eyes on her, a lingering glance when her name was called, or a look when she stood up to get something for lunch. He never said anything. She never gave him the chance to.
***
After school, the dark clouds plaguing the day finally parted. Ann didn’t feel like scouting her locker anymore, so she headed home, without much thought of it. Maybe Shiho was right. She should just be happy for receiving the flowers. But if they weren’t from Ren, Ann saw no point in getting happy over it anymore.
Light glistened on the trees and the puddles on the pavement. On her way to the subway, she noticed a little store just off to the side, with potted flowers and plants at the front. Ann stopped in front of it. The lingering scent of rain made the flowers smell stronger and sweeter, and before she knew it, her feet had already led her past the boxes and through the door at the center.
A bell jingled overhead. A woman in a blue shirt looked up from the cash register counter with a smile. “Can I help you?” the florist asked.
Ann looked around. More flowers lined the walls in pots or vases or stacked on shelves—roses, lilies, and hydrangeas to name a few. The florist came over to her just as Ann’s eyes fell on a vase of white flowers—the same ones she now kept in her room.
“What are those?” she asked.
The florist followed her line of sight and a bright smile spread across her face. “Gardenias,” she said. “Beautiful, aren’t they?” She plucked a few and held them out to Ann. “They’re lovely and elegant, perfect to give someone you love.”
Someone you love.
Ann smelled the flowers. A sweet fragrance filled her nose. Yes, these were the same ones. Gardenias.
“Did you know?” the florist went on. “These flowers also mean secret love.” That took her off guard. The florist met her surprised look with a knowing smile. “Long ago, when people used flowers to convey messages, they would often give gardenias whenever they wanted to express their love but still remain anonymous. Romantic, isn’t it?”
It was. And it was too similar with her own situation that it rendered Ann speechless.
“It’s been gaining popularity, too,” the florist added. No wonder, if she had told that story to every customer who came here.
Then again, maybe Ann shouldn’t have been surprised. Whoever had given her those flowers had probably fallen into the florist’s marketing ploy. She felt sorry for the guy. Not only did she have to turn him down, he would have spent his money in vain.
The store bell jingled again, and the florist looked up. “Ah! Amamiya-kun!”
Ann froze as the florist left her side. “Another gardenia?” she asked her new customer. “Or are you finally getting her a bouquet?”
The laughter that followed was indeed Ren’s. Ann couldn’t bring herself to turn around. All sorts of thoughts occupied her mind, trying to figure out what brought Ren to a small florist like this. But then he said, “Another gardenia, please,” and Ann stopped thinking.
The florist chuckled. “Send her some bouquet some time. She’d love it.” A shuffle of feet—the florist headed towards her, where the gardenias were.
A soft laugh. “Yeah, well…” Ren’s voice trailed off. Ann felt the moment his eyes found her. She could almost hear his intake of breath, caught on a secret she shouldn’t know. The silence seemed to stretch for a lifetime, and when he finally spoke her name, his voice quiet and hesitant, it was as though a spell was lifted.
She really shouldn’t have come here.
Placing the flowers on the nearest surface she could find, Ann kept her head down as she quickly made her way out, thanking the confused florist on her way. She ducked past Ren without looking up, then, once she was outside, sprinted as fast as she could to wherever her feet carried her.
Her face burned. Her heart raced. Blood pumped in her veins as she pushed herself farther and farther away from the flower shop at the side of the road.
“Ann!” came the dreaded voice, strained and out of breath. Ren pulled her to a stop, hand gripping her arm. “Ann, wait, let me explain—”
A glimpse of a scene, in middle school. A boy told her he liked her due to a dare between friends.
“Was it a joke?”
“What?”
She didn’t care what the flowers meant anymore. She only wished they were genuine, and not an effort to mess with her feelings. Because she liked him. She liked Ren.
“Was it a joke to you?”
Ann waited for an answer, but it never came. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wasa joke. Who was she kidding? There was no way Ren would—
“Did you think it was a joke?”
She had expected him to scoff, and to smirk, to let go of her arm and said sorry, my friends made me to.But his voice was devoid of any emotions, and it struck her harder than any jeer he could have thrown at her.
His grip around her arm tightened for a fraction of a second, before he let her go, and sighed. Ann finally looked up, and the look on Ren’s face was enough to break her heart.
“I didn’t want you to know,” he began to say. “I didn’t think you needed to. You looked so happy when you first got it, I thought it was okay if I stayed anonymous.” He paused, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his head as he looked away, eyes finding purchase on a tree or a passing cloud.
Ann let his words sink in, feeling the knots slowly unravel in her mind. The tinge of red on his ears and his refusal to meet her eyes spoke loudly enough. Ren was being true.
Ann swallowed past a lump in her throat. “Then, if it’s not a joke, what is it?”
A self-deprecating laugh, a small awkward smile. “Do you really have to ask?”
She didn’t, apparently. Even without the words, Ren’s feelings were loud and clear. From the way he’d smile at her in such a soft and gentle way, to the way he’d look at her as though she was the only girl in the world. He had listened to her and given her his full attention. It would be a lie if Ann hadn’t felt some sort of deeper connection in her time knowing him.
And yet, it was for that precise reason that it had hurt her all the more when she thought he might have been playing with her feelings.
“I’m sorry if they were a burden,” he quietly said. “I didn’t mean to.”
And Ann believed him. Because if there was one thing she knew about Ren was that Ren would never do anything to upset his friends.
“Don’t you know why they made me happy?” she asked. He finally looked at her, and her face broke into a small smile. “The only reason I was happy, Ren, was because I hoped they were from you.” The dumbfounded look on his face was the most endearing thing she had ever seen. “I wanted it to be you.”
