Re: Miki: Fragments (Updated 5/4/15)
Posted: Tue Apr 07, 2015 5:16 pm
So here’s chapter nine, and the thing about chapter nine is that I really like chapter nine. I mean I like most of the stuff I write, but I really like this one. I hope you do too, as always I greatly appreciate feedback both positive and negative.
Enjoy!
Festival Frolics
“Just ask her to go with you,” I exhale exhaustedly. I’ve been in Ryouta’s room since class finished at lunchtime. Its Saturday the day before the festival. All the posters describe it as a way of bringing Yamaku and the local community closer together. To me it sounds more like a cripple kid petting zoo.
“But what if she says no?” Ryouta asks, pacing up and down in his room. I’m surprised he’s not cut a groove to the floor below.
“Why would she say no? You just want to go as friends don’t you?” I sit on his bed, flicking through one of his comics. It's in English but small words and nice pictures are my friends.
“Well...” His plump cheeks start to turn red.
“You like her!” I exclaim, putting down the comic. This just got interesting.
“No, no… Yes” He holds up his hands as a grin spreads across my face. “Don’t tell her!”
“I think it's cute,” I giggle. “So when are you going to ask her out?”
“I don’t think she feels the same way,” He sits down on his rarely used office chair, looking deflated.
“I think Ikuno likes you just fine,” I throw him a sideways grin, “Would you like me to ask her?”
“No!” he gets up quickly, nearly losing his balance.
“Well the festival’s tomorrow and Ikuno should be back from council at five,”
“I know, I know, don’t remind me.” He starts to pace again.
“What hours are you working?” I ask, trying to relax the atmosphere a little.
“Morning, first shift,” He answers, rubbing the length of his stunted arm with his good hand.
“That's perfect! Ikuno is working the same shift.” I on the other hand have been signed up for two of the busiest sifts back to back, an unfortunate side effect from the brief spat Ikuno and I had.
“Look, just ask if she wants to spend the day with you and see where it goes.”
“You think that will work?” He asks.
I nod. To be honest I did wonder about how my two friends felt about each other. I’ve noticed a shy kind of energy between them. The only problem is getting them on the same page. Still I can’t claim to be an expert, look where the last boy I liked ended up. Don’t think about that, don’t think about that.
“Miki, are you listening?” Ryouta snaps me out of my spiral of depressing thoughts.
“Yes, err, what?”
“I asked if you wanted to watch a movie?” He holds up a selection of dramatic looking titles.
“I’ll pass if that's okay, I need a run,” I sigh grumpily. “Won’t get the chance tomorrow.”
— — —
Later that night I find myself sitting at my desk, a small lamp illuminating my maths homework. This is impossible. My left hand starts to itch, great. Just great. I try and focus on my homework, but it never held my attention to begin with. Luckily three loud bangs on my door distract me.
“Come in,” I call. Ikuno bursts into my room, her cheeks bright red. Did she run here?
“Well good evening councillor. You’re looking flushed,” A childish grin spreads over my face. “Have a nice time with Ryouta?” I raise my eyebrow.
“He asked me to the festival!” She drops mellow dramatically onto my bed.
“And you said…?” I start to pack away my pencil case, nothing else is getting done tonight.
“I said I didn’t know.” Just as she finishes her sentence my phone buzzes with an incoming text.
[Smart-arse]: ‘We need to talk ASAP!!!!!!’
“I thought you said you liked him?” I ask, not sure what to send back to Ryouta.
“I do, he’s really fun to be around,” she looks out of the window wistfully. “He makes me smile.” I roll my eyes at her. They both like each other, so I can’t for the life of me understand how they managed to make things so complicated.
“Well why don’t you tell him that?” I ask slowly.
“I can’t,” she moans into the air.
Right, this is ridiculous time to take matters into my own hand. I quickly write back a message to Ryouta, ‘She’s sorry, she will meet you under the big oak at 11, wear something nice.” And send. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.
“Who are you texting? What are you saying?” Ikuno appears beside me, desperately trying to read my screen.
“Right, sorted,” She looks at me wide eyed. “I told Ryouta to meet you in our normal spot at eleven.”
“You did what!” She starts to pace up and down my room. I knew they were made for each other.
“If it helps I told him to wear something nice?” I say by way of condolence.
“Oh my god Miki, Oh my god, oh my god,” She runs her fingers through her hair. “I need to find something to wear, I will never forgive you for this!” She dashes out of my room. I laugh to myself. I’ve heard it said that love does mysterious things, apparently it turns Ikuno into a cliché.
My phone starts to buzz on the table, an incoming call now from Ryouta. I sigh, looking at my half completed homework.
“Evening lovebird,” I answer the phone, a stupid grin plastered over my face. The things I do for my friends.
— — —
I’m bored. I am so bored it's not even funny anymore, I’ve been standing at this stupid stall for close to two hours now, through the hottest part of the afternoon as well. This year class 2:3 decided to contribute a simple ring toss game to the festival. I’ve spent half the time trying to hide my stump from local onlookers and the other half picking up badly aimed plastic rings.
Ryouta and Ikuno stopped by earlier, looking as happy as I guessed they would be. He even won her a prize. Assisted slightly by me of course, one ring is the biggest prize right? I suck at math. It was adorable.
At last I escape. I’m hungry, I'm tired. And I swear if one more non-student looks at my arm I’m going to punch somebody. I find comfort in some fried food prepared by the students of class 3:2. I take my food, watching with some interest how my obviously blind server counts my coins in his palm. I feel a little sorry for the blind students. They are missing out on a delightful game of guess the disability the rest of today's attendees seem to be playing.
I sit on a wall not far from the stand. All the benches are taken, beside me a boy in Yamaku uniform sits with his eyes closed tightly. His head is turned up to the sky. He’s taller than me, with neat black hair framing his gentle face. He seems to notice my arrival, but he does not turn to me or open his eyes.
“Hello, is somebody there?” He speaks softly.
“Afternoon,” I splutter with a mouth full of chicken. “You mind if I sit here?” I ask, not sure what I’m supposed to do if he says no. Eating standing up with one hand is a pain.
“I don’t mind at all, here is a nice place to sit I think.” He considers for a moment, his nostrils flaring. “Ah, yakitori a good choice.” He can tell what I’m eating by the smell?
“It's not bad,” I comment, taking another bite. “Are you in class 3:2?”
“Indeed I am, you are sampling some of my classmates cooking.” He smiles a little. “I do hope it's to your satisfaction?”
“It is,” I smile, before realising how pointless that is for a blind person. “Have you already had your shift on the stall?”
He nods slowly, I take another bite of the soft speared chicken. It really isn’t all that bad. I wonder briefly what I should do with the rest of my day, just go to bed early I guess. I don’t want to disturb the lovebirds and I have no intention of becoming another exhibit for this human circus.
“I had my turn around an hour ago, alas in the confusion I appear to have mislaid my cane.” He considers the sky for another moment; reflective. “Forgive the wordplay but I am blind without it.”
“I could try and find it for you?” I offer, stuffing down the last bit of yakitori.
“I believe the problem is that it has been borrowed by another student, an accident I’m sure,” he yawns, rubbing his stubbly chin. “Forgive me, I omitted my introduction, my name is Ayumu. I have a surname but it is quite forgettable.”
“Miura Miki.” I say, still a little unsure of what to make of this boy. He has a strange way of talking.
“A lovely name, I’m pleased to know it.” He turns in my direction again, smiling.
“Do you try this hard with all the girls?” I ask, perhaps this is some strange type of flirting.
“I try this hard with everyone,” his smile lights up his face, “But I put in extra effort for girls with beautiful voices.” I feel my cheeks warm.
“So Miki, how will you be spending the rest of your evening?” He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
“I don’t really have any plans,” I admit honestly. “Thought I might just go and get an early night.”
“A prudent course of action. But allow me to suggest an alternative route.” he stops for dramatic effect. “If you would be so kind as to guide me, I would enjoy experiencing the rest of the festival with you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I laugh.
“I would like to, I think.” a smirk starts to form in his cheeks.
“Do you always talk like this?” I ask, he speaks with such confidence.
“I enjoy words, I like stringing them together like notes on a piano,” he pauses for a moment. “Though I admit that my linguistic symphony is rather improvised a lot of the time, I occasionally hit a bum note.”
I think I understood about half of that, but he’s good looking and funny. I can think of worse ways to spend the rest of my day.
“Okay, what do you need me to do?” I ask, getting to my feet. Ayumu does the same, holding out his hand tentatively.
“I will need to hold onto you if that's acceptable? Your sleeve, elbow or shoulder are the preferred choice.”
After some muted and awkward shuffling we arrange ourselves, his right hand gently gripping my bare left elbow. I feel very aware of his hand so close to my bandaged stump. But I can’t do anything if I can’t use my remaining hand. With a small thrill I realise that I'm with one of the very few people who doesn’t immediately know what's wrong with me.
“What now?” I ask, a little uncomfortable.
“It might be a little much to ask, but do you think you could possibly describe what is around us?”
How the hell do I do that? I slowly start to describe what I can see, stalls, trees, people, a bird. He nods at my mumblings looking elated. What surprises me is he enquires after certain details. If a stall has lights, if those lights are casting shadows.
We start to move slowly, through the crowds playing this strange game. I grow more confident in my descriptions and his smile grows wider. I notice he moves his head around, trying to catch every sound and smell. We reach a carnival game I’ve never seen before.
Along the front of the counter a series of wooden boxes sit in a row. Each side of the box is a different colour with an irregular shaped door cut into it, the doors are kept closed but a multitude of locks and catches. Everything from simple shoot bolts to combination locks with apparently blank white cards underneath. I’m perplexed.
“Apparently we have reached a sight that is too beautiful for words,” Ayumu grins. I hastily try and explain the stall to him.
“Aha, I believe we have reached class 1:2’s contribution to the festival. A carnival game for the visually impaired.” He announces.
We head over to the booth, my head still spinning with the weirdness of it all. Though it makes sense that the blind students would want to participate in today's festivities. As it turns out the rules are quite simple, a player is given 90 seconds to open three doors, each door’s challenges get progressively harder. Prizes are allocated based on the number of doors opened in the allotted time.
I stand back to watch as Ayumu cracks his fingers in preparation. He tentatively reaches out a hand and brushes the front of the box with his fingers, deftly he moves his hand to the edge of the box, poised for action.
“Ready,” He says confidently.
“Go!” Squeals the first year girl behind the counter, pressing down on an digital egg timer.
Ayumu fingers quickly trace the outline of the box before moving inwards. With well practiced motions he undoes two slide bolts, a safety chain and pushes a key hanging from a chain into another lock. Yanking the door open he spins the box around. I wish I could see the timer, that seemed fast but I have no idea.
The next side offers a bit more challenge, the door has a wavy edge making it harder to locate the locks. I finally get what the blank cards are for, they are written brail showing the code needed for the combination lock. With the last chain catch released the second door is open. Oh wow this is going to be close.
The last side holds yet more challenges. This time there are locks in deceptive places intended to trick players into undoing locks that do nothing. Ayumu fingers seem to blur as my heart rate increases. Come on! He has just one lock left now, a combination lock with a larger than normal white card underneath. His finger flows over the card, his face scrunched up in concentration.
He’s not going to make it, there's no way!
An answer seems to hit him, and with three quick movements the lock is undone just as the timer buzzes. He looks ecstatic, tuning in my direction with a grin.
“Yes! That was awesome!” I say gleefully, raising my hand for a high five. He does nothing, I hear a burst of laughter behind me. Fuck! I bite my knuckle my cheeks going red. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I can’t believe I just did that.
“Miki?” Ayumu asks, looking up I can see a smile on his face, he holds his prize a large plush elephant. Instead of being a uniform colour or material the stuffed animal is made up of panels of varying size and textures.
“Sorry,” I can still feel my cheeks burn. “What are you going to name him?” I try and reclaim some of the excitement I had before my embarrassment.
“I was wondering if you would like it?” I notice for the first time his cheeks slightly redden.
“Really?” As way of answer he pushes the toy towards me.
“Thank you Ayumu,” I give the elephant a hug. Isn’t this what people on a date do?
I allow this strange well spoken boy to softly hold my elbow once again. We leave the busy stalls and wonder into the peaceful grounds, with the sun set the stars fill the night sky. I try and describe them as well as I can, but I don’t think I have the words.
“Would you like to sit for awhile? I think the fireworks will be lit soon,”
“There are fireworks?” I ask, gently leading him onto the soft well manicured grass.
“Indeed, this is your first festival?” He says as we sink down next to each other.
“Yeah,” I pause as my left hand starts to prickle. “Do you mind? the fireworks I mean.”
“What do you mean?” He asks, his face turned into the soft night breeze.
“Well I mean, you can’t see them.” I blush. Why do I always have to speak my mind, it can’t be trusted.
“Hmmmm,” he considers for a moment. “That's true, but that does not mean I can’t experience them. We just see things in different ways. I notice the tiny moment of build up before the burst, the subtle vibration in the air and the smell of smoke on the breeze.”
I stare at him open mouthed.
“We are nothing but our senses and a choice. A choice of how to perceive the world around us, I think my world is as beautiful as yours, just different."
“Oh,” What the hell do you say to that?
“Forgive me, I’m a hopeless romantic. What I meant is no, I don’t mind the fireworks.” A brilliant smile transforms his face. The back of his fingertips gently stroke the hairs on my arm. I twitch a little. Well that's an interesting feeling.
“I’m sorry,” He says, cheeks reddening.
“Hang on,” I get up and turn around, sitting beside him but orientated so that we are hip to hip facing each other, with my stump safely out of reach. “Are you always this forward?” I ask a little breathless.
“You seem to bring it out in me” he says, his mouth flickering with a smile. Slowly I brush my forearm under his fingertips. He jumps a little, before his fingers start to work their way down my arm to my hand, tickling softly as they go.
“I’ve heard it said that girls can feel a man’s eyes on her skin, with me that’s literal,” he says, trying to break an awkward silence that I’m not sure exists.
I don’t say anything. I don’t know what I should be feeling, I don’t even know what I am feeling. All I know is that I like it. His fingertips are soft and warm, surveying me as if I were made of bone china.
“Miki? Are you okay?” His voice is edged with worry. In answer I take his hand and gently guide him to my cheek, his eyebrows raise in surprise. Carefully he moves his other hand to my face and gently starts to trace my features. I close my eyes letting out a deep breath.
“Now who’s being forward,” he asks, his voice quiet.
“Shhh,” I whisper, “Don’t spoil whatever the hell this is…”
In silence his fingertips trace the bags under my eyes, I frown. My face tells a story I’m not ready to tell him. His thumb starts to trace the shape of my mouth, gently pulling down on my bottom lip. Oh wo- BANG!
We both jump apart as if we'd hit a live wire. My eyes fly open. I start to laugh as I look up to see the next volley of fireworks light up the night sky. A few confused seconds later and Ayumu joins me, laughing happily. The moment has gone as fast as it came.
I reach out and take his hand in mine. I don’t know anything about him, not even his last name. I just know I like him. That's enough for now, He told me it's how you choose to look at the world that matters and right here, right now. The world is good. Silently in our own ways we watch the fireworks.
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Enjoy!
Festival Frolics
“Just ask her to go with you,” I exhale exhaustedly. I’ve been in Ryouta’s room since class finished at lunchtime. Its Saturday the day before the festival. All the posters describe it as a way of bringing Yamaku and the local community closer together. To me it sounds more like a cripple kid petting zoo.
“But what if she says no?” Ryouta asks, pacing up and down in his room. I’m surprised he’s not cut a groove to the floor below.
“Why would she say no? You just want to go as friends don’t you?” I sit on his bed, flicking through one of his comics. It's in English but small words and nice pictures are my friends.
“Well...” His plump cheeks start to turn red.
“You like her!” I exclaim, putting down the comic. This just got interesting.
“No, no… Yes” He holds up his hands as a grin spreads across my face. “Don’t tell her!”
“I think it's cute,” I giggle. “So when are you going to ask her out?”
“I don’t think she feels the same way,” He sits down on his rarely used office chair, looking deflated.
“I think Ikuno likes you just fine,” I throw him a sideways grin, “Would you like me to ask her?”
“No!” he gets up quickly, nearly losing his balance.
“Well the festival’s tomorrow and Ikuno should be back from council at five,”
“I know, I know, don’t remind me.” He starts to pace again.
“What hours are you working?” I ask, trying to relax the atmosphere a little.
“Morning, first shift,” He answers, rubbing the length of his stunted arm with his good hand.
“That's perfect! Ikuno is working the same shift.” I on the other hand have been signed up for two of the busiest sifts back to back, an unfortunate side effect from the brief spat Ikuno and I had.
“Look, just ask if she wants to spend the day with you and see where it goes.”
“You think that will work?” He asks.
I nod. To be honest I did wonder about how my two friends felt about each other. I’ve noticed a shy kind of energy between them. The only problem is getting them on the same page. Still I can’t claim to be an expert, look where the last boy I liked ended up. Don’t think about that, don’t think about that.
“Miki, are you listening?” Ryouta snaps me out of my spiral of depressing thoughts.
“Yes, err, what?”
“I asked if you wanted to watch a movie?” He holds up a selection of dramatic looking titles.
“I’ll pass if that's okay, I need a run,” I sigh grumpily. “Won’t get the chance tomorrow.”
— — —
Later that night I find myself sitting at my desk, a small lamp illuminating my maths homework. This is impossible. My left hand starts to itch, great. Just great. I try and focus on my homework, but it never held my attention to begin with. Luckily three loud bangs on my door distract me.
“Come in,” I call. Ikuno bursts into my room, her cheeks bright red. Did she run here?
“Well good evening councillor. You’re looking flushed,” A childish grin spreads over my face. “Have a nice time with Ryouta?” I raise my eyebrow.
“He asked me to the festival!” She drops mellow dramatically onto my bed.
“And you said…?” I start to pack away my pencil case, nothing else is getting done tonight.
“I said I didn’t know.” Just as she finishes her sentence my phone buzzes with an incoming text.
[Smart-arse]: ‘We need to talk ASAP!!!!!!’
“I thought you said you liked him?” I ask, not sure what to send back to Ryouta.
“I do, he’s really fun to be around,” she looks out of the window wistfully. “He makes me smile.” I roll my eyes at her. They both like each other, so I can’t for the life of me understand how they managed to make things so complicated.
“Well why don’t you tell him that?” I ask slowly.
“I can’t,” she moans into the air.
Right, this is ridiculous time to take matters into my own hand. I quickly write back a message to Ryouta, ‘She’s sorry, she will meet you under the big oak at 11, wear something nice.” And send. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.
“Who are you texting? What are you saying?” Ikuno appears beside me, desperately trying to read my screen.
“Right, sorted,” She looks at me wide eyed. “I told Ryouta to meet you in our normal spot at eleven.”
“You did what!” She starts to pace up and down my room. I knew they were made for each other.
“If it helps I told him to wear something nice?” I say by way of condolence.
“Oh my god Miki, Oh my god, oh my god,” She runs her fingers through her hair. “I need to find something to wear, I will never forgive you for this!” She dashes out of my room. I laugh to myself. I’ve heard it said that love does mysterious things, apparently it turns Ikuno into a cliché.
My phone starts to buzz on the table, an incoming call now from Ryouta. I sigh, looking at my half completed homework.
“Evening lovebird,” I answer the phone, a stupid grin plastered over my face. The things I do for my friends.
— — —
I’m bored. I am so bored it's not even funny anymore, I’ve been standing at this stupid stall for close to two hours now, through the hottest part of the afternoon as well. This year class 2:3 decided to contribute a simple ring toss game to the festival. I’ve spent half the time trying to hide my stump from local onlookers and the other half picking up badly aimed plastic rings.
Ryouta and Ikuno stopped by earlier, looking as happy as I guessed they would be. He even won her a prize. Assisted slightly by me of course, one ring is the biggest prize right? I suck at math. It was adorable.
At last I escape. I’m hungry, I'm tired. And I swear if one more non-student looks at my arm I’m going to punch somebody. I find comfort in some fried food prepared by the students of class 3:2. I take my food, watching with some interest how my obviously blind server counts my coins in his palm. I feel a little sorry for the blind students. They are missing out on a delightful game of guess the disability the rest of today's attendees seem to be playing.
I sit on a wall not far from the stand. All the benches are taken, beside me a boy in Yamaku uniform sits with his eyes closed tightly. His head is turned up to the sky. He’s taller than me, with neat black hair framing his gentle face. He seems to notice my arrival, but he does not turn to me or open his eyes.
“Hello, is somebody there?” He speaks softly.
“Afternoon,” I splutter with a mouth full of chicken. “You mind if I sit here?” I ask, not sure what I’m supposed to do if he says no. Eating standing up with one hand is a pain.
“I don’t mind at all, here is a nice place to sit I think.” He considers for a moment, his nostrils flaring. “Ah, yakitori a good choice.” He can tell what I’m eating by the smell?
“It's not bad,” I comment, taking another bite. “Are you in class 3:2?”
“Indeed I am, you are sampling some of my classmates cooking.” He smiles a little. “I do hope it's to your satisfaction?”
“It is,” I smile, before realising how pointless that is for a blind person. “Have you already had your shift on the stall?”
He nods slowly, I take another bite of the soft speared chicken. It really isn’t all that bad. I wonder briefly what I should do with the rest of my day, just go to bed early I guess. I don’t want to disturb the lovebirds and I have no intention of becoming another exhibit for this human circus.
“I had my turn around an hour ago, alas in the confusion I appear to have mislaid my cane.” He considers the sky for another moment; reflective. “Forgive the wordplay but I am blind without it.”
“I could try and find it for you?” I offer, stuffing down the last bit of yakitori.
“I believe the problem is that it has been borrowed by another student, an accident I’m sure,” he yawns, rubbing his stubbly chin. “Forgive me, I omitted my introduction, my name is Ayumu. I have a surname but it is quite forgettable.”
“Miura Miki.” I say, still a little unsure of what to make of this boy. He has a strange way of talking.
“A lovely name, I’m pleased to know it.” He turns in my direction again, smiling.
“Do you try this hard with all the girls?” I ask, perhaps this is some strange type of flirting.
“I try this hard with everyone,” his smile lights up his face, “But I put in extra effort for girls with beautiful voices.” I feel my cheeks warm.
“So Miki, how will you be spending the rest of your evening?” He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.
“I don’t really have any plans,” I admit honestly. “Thought I might just go and get an early night.”
“A prudent course of action. But allow me to suggest an alternative route.” he stops for dramatic effect. “If you would be so kind as to guide me, I would enjoy experiencing the rest of the festival with you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I laugh.
“I would like to, I think.” a smirk starts to form in his cheeks.
“Do you always talk like this?” I ask, he speaks with such confidence.
“I enjoy words, I like stringing them together like notes on a piano,” he pauses for a moment. “Though I admit that my linguistic symphony is rather improvised a lot of the time, I occasionally hit a bum note.”
I think I understood about half of that, but he’s good looking and funny. I can think of worse ways to spend the rest of my day.
“Okay, what do you need me to do?” I ask, getting to my feet. Ayumu does the same, holding out his hand tentatively.
“I will need to hold onto you if that's acceptable? Your sleeve, elbow or shoulder are the preferred choice.”
After some muted and awkward shuffling we arrange ourselves, his right hand gently gripping my bare left elbow. I feel very aware of his hand so close to my bandaged stump. But I can’t do anything if I can’t use my remaining hand. With a small thrill I realise that I'm with one of the very few people who doesn’t immediately know what's wrong with me.
“What now?” I ask, a little uncomfortable.
“It might be a little much to ask, but do you think you could possibly describe what is around us?”
How the hell do I do that? I slowly start to describe what I can see, stalls, trees, people, a bird. He nods at my mumblings looking elated. What surprises me is he enquires after certain details. If a stall has lights, if those lights are casting shadows.
We start to move slowly, through the crowds playing this strange game. I grow more confident in my descriptions and his smile grows wider. I notice he moves his head around, trying to catch every sound and smell. We reach a carnival game I’ve never seen before.
Along the front of the counter a series of wooden boxes sit in a row. Each side of the box is a different colour with an irregular shaped door cut into it, the doors are kept closed but a multitude of locks and catches. Everything from simple shoot bolts to combination locks with apparently blank white cards underneath. I’m perplexed.
“Apparently we have reached a sight that is too beautiful for words,” Ayumu grins. I hastily try and explain the stall to him.
“Aha, I believe we have reached class 1:2’s contribution to the festival. A carnival game for the visually impaired.” He announces.
We head over to the booth, my head still spinning with the weirdness of it all. Though it makes sense that the blind students would want to participate in today's festivities. As it turns out the rules are quite simple, a player is given 90 seconds to open three doors, each door’s challenges get progressively harder. Prizes are allocated based on the number of doors opened in the allotted time.
I stand back to watch as Ayumu cracks his fingers in preparation. He tentatively reaches out a hand and brushes the front of the box with his fingers, deftly he moves his hand to the edge of the box, poised for action.
“Ready,” He says confidently.
“Go!” Squeals the first year girl behind the counter, pressing down on an digital egg timer.
Ayumu fingers quickly trace the outline of the box before moving inwards. With well practiced motions he undoes two slide bolts, a safety chain and pushes a key hanging from a chain into another lock. Yanking the door open he spins the box around. I wish I could see the timer, that seemed fast but I have no idea.
The next side offers a bit more challenge, the door has a wavy edge making it harder to locate the locks. I finally get what the blank cards are for, they are written brail showing the code needed for the combination lock. With the last chain catch released the second door is open. Oh wow this is going to be close.
The last side holds yet more challenges. This time there are locks in deceptive places intended to trick players into undoing locks that do nothing. Ayumu fingers seem to blur as my heart rate increases. Come on! He has just one lock left now, a combination lock with a larger than normal white card underneath. His finger flows over the card, his face scrunched up in concentration.
He’s not going to make it, there's no way!
An answer seems to hit him, and with three quick movements the lock is undone just as the timer buzzes. He looks ecstatic, tuning in my direction with a grin.
“Yes! That was awesome!” I say gleefully, raising my hand for a high five. He does nothing, I hear a burst of laughter behind me. Fuck! I bite my knuckle my cheeks going red. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I can’t believe I just did that.
“Miki?” Ayumu asks, looking up I can see a smile on his face, he holds his prize a large plush elephant. Instead of being a uniform colour or material the stuffed animal is made up of panels of varying size and textures.
“Sorry,” I can still feel my cheeks burn. “What are you going to name him?” I try and reclaim some of the excitement I had before my embarrassment.
“I was wondering if you would like it?” I notice for the first time his cheeks slightly redden.
“Really?” As way of answer he pushes the toy towards me.
“Thank you Ayumu,” I give the elephant a hug. Isn’t this what people on a date do?
I allow this strange well spoken boy to softly hold my elbow once again. We leave the busy stalls and wonder into the peaceful grounds, with the sun set the stars fill the night sky. I try and describe them as well as I can, but I don’t think I have the words.
“Would you like to sit for awhile? I think the fireworks will be lit soon,”
“There are fireworks?” I ask, gently leading him onto the soft well manicured grass.
“Indeed, this is your first festival?” He says as we sink down next to each other.
“Yeah,” I pause as my left hand starts to prickle. “Do you mind? the fireworks I mean.”
“What do you mean?” He asks, his face turned into the soft night breeze.
“Well I mean, you can’t see them.” I blush. Why do I always have to speak my mind, it can’t be trusted.
“Hmmmm,” he considers for a moment. “That's true, but that does not mean I can’t experience them. We just see things in different ways. I notice the tiny moment of build up before the burst, the subtle vibration in the air and the smell of smoke on the breeze.”
I stare at him open mouthed.
“We are nothing but our senses and a choice. A choice of how to perceive the world around us, I think my world is as beautiful as yours, just different."
“Oh,” What the hell do you say to that?
“Forgive me, I’m a hopeless romantic. What I meant is no, I don’t mind the fireworks.” A brilliant smile transforms his face. The back of his fingertips gently stroke the hairs on my arm. I twitch a little. Well that's an interesting feeling.
“I’m sorry,” He says, cheeks reddening.
“Hang on,” I get up and turn around, sitting beside him but orientated so that we are hip to hip facing each other, with my stump safely out of reach. “Are you always this forward?” I ask a little breathless.
“You seem to bring it out in me” he says, his mouth flickering with a smile. Slowly I brush my forearm under his fingertips. He jumps a little, before his fingers start to work their way down my arm to my hand, tickling softly as they go.
“I’ve heard it said that girls can feel a man’s eyes on her skin, with me that’s literal,” he says, trying to break an awkward silence that I’m not sure exists.
I don’t say anything. I don’t know what I should be feeling, I don’t even know what I am feeling. All I know is that I like it. His fingertips are soft and warm, surveying me as if I were made of bone china.
“Miki? Are you okay?” His voice is edged with worry. In answer I take his hand and gently guide him to my cheek, his eyebrows raise in surprise. Carefully he moves his other hand to my face and gently starts to trace my features. I close my eyes letting out a deep breath.
“Now who’s being forward,” he asks, his voice quiet.
“Shhh,” I whisper, “Don’t spoil whatever the hell this is…”
In silence his fingertips trace the bags under my eyes, I frown. My face tells a story I’m not ready to tell him. His thumb starts to trace the shape of my mouth, gently pulling down on my bottom lip. Oh wo- BANG!
We both jump apart as if we'd hit a live wire. My eyes fly open. I start to laugh as I look up to see the next volley of fireworks light up the night sky. A few confused seconds later and Ayumu joins me, laughing happily. The moment has gone as fast as it came.
I reach out and take his hand in mine. I don’t know anything about him, not even his last name. I just know I like him. That's enough for now, He told me it's how you choose to look at the world that matters and right here, right now. The world is good. Silently in our own ways we watch the fireworks.
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