FI 1/1

Since Aoi's first day of absence, since her first second of absence perhaps, the world seemed to fall into a deep veil of melancholy. Without her to hold the seams of Mirai Eiko Academy together, the student body truly had no idea how to function - or, at least, that's how things seemed to Etsuko.

Overhead clouds, painted a leaden gray, blocked any defiant rays of sunlight that still stubbornly fought for their rightful position. Even the flowers were beginning to wilt! And from these dark clouds, in gentle inconsistent spurts - tapping against Etsuko's umbrella as if in a halfhearted attempt to grab her attention - came rain. But the girl was much too lost in thought to respond. The air was painfully cool, biting at the bare skin of Etsuko's legs, nearly making her wish she'd bought tights to pair with her uniform, and she could pick out a certain smell which only emerged in these sorts of chilly, damp climates. The birds were off kilter, as well; normally so lively, now tucked hidden away behind tuffs of foliage as they clung to their nests and fussed over their young. Too dreadfully frightened of getting their feathers dampened to take flight.

Despite herself, Etsuko found the whole scene absolutely stunning…in its gloominess and all. Throughout these recent years - the past three years, in fact - she'd found herself starting to be drawn to these kinds of silent solitudes. Rainy days with a ruminative atmosphere. There was something about it, an unmatched gratification derived from convincing oneself of a sole citizenship, especially in a city which had once been so densely populated. So it was a terrific surprise, even to Etsuko herself, when she decided to cast away this specific bout of silence. It wasn't any different from the others, but nonetheless she was unsettled by this one in particular, and so she'd decided to cut its lifespan prematurely.

Maybe she had simply grown sick of how mournful the school's hallways became? How, lying beneath every passing conversation she overhead, lingered the unease of an empire that'd lost its empress to an unexpected tragedy. Or maybe it was because the anonymity she tried her very best to upkeep in school, the sort she yearned for, had been unjustly ripped away in exchange for this silence? Consequence of Aoi's inexplicable behavior.

Since Aoi was such an outgoing girl, so open and friendly, someone who adamantly refused to hide her feelings or friendships the way Etsuko intended, everyone immediately caught on to their connection. They noticed when she spent her lunch period with the girl, or when she'd walk home with her, and, of course, that gave off the impression she was someone who could be approached just as easily as Aoi herself too. So, when Aoi disappeared all of Aoi's acquaintances rushed to Etsuko's side, begging to know which cursed realm their precious empress had vanished off to!

Maybe Etsuko was casting away this silence because she didn't wish to carry that burden any longer, and nothing more.

Although would Etsuko, through casting the greater of the two silences away, be able to return to her favored serenity? Would it prove futile in the end? Would Etsuko remain in the spotlight even after this was all done and over with? Just how strong was Aoi’s scent…? Etsuko’d mulled the matter over and over in her head for ages by now, wondering if it was still safe at all to indulge. Whether she retained any sort of control over this situation or if she’d merely been deluding herself into believing she did. For, from where she stood, and with how things were now unfolding, her previous acts seemed like a naive, rapacious misstep. How foolish.

“Wait!” A girl suddenly called out from behind Etsuko, rushing to catch up with her. She had no earthly idea of where she could’ve come from, honestly…she hadn’t heard anyone else walking throughout her entire outing. She was under the impression she was the only person outside. But, upon closer inspection, that idea was utterly nonsensical; likely a matter of perspective rather than objectivity. Of course she wasn’t the only person outside in all of Japan! In a residential area, no less. “W-wait for me!”

Nonetheless, the other’s voice startled Etsuko more than she would’ve consciously liked it to. Her hand clamped around her umbrella so inflexibly it was sure to leave a mark and her brisk stride came to an abrupt halt. Not to mention the impending sense of doom budding in the depths of Etsuko’s stomach, knotting and twisting tighter and tighter, and even tighter with each exhale she took - although the intruder couldn’t have been the only contributor in that regard.

Finally the girl caught up. She took a moment to catch her breath, wiping the sweat off her forehead, before barraging Etsuko with a slew of…words. “Sato-Senpai! Ah, you’re quick! Really, really quick! Have you ever done sports? Oh, oh, oh! I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry! You don’t know who I am!” She bowed her head before the other girl could even process what she’d said previously. “I’m Chiba…Chiba Hoshimi. First year Class A; n-no, you probably…I’m sorry. I’m on the student council, though! With Yamada-senpai! I’m the secretary! I’ve wanted to meet you for ages, you know? She’s mentioned you a lot. She always talks about you. And your paintings! It’s amazing! I’ve seen some of them; at the school competitions and…I-I just…I’m sorry, you’re just really amazing, Sato-senpai. I’ve never seen an artist as talented as you before; I was sort of awe struck. And I just ran into you today, right now! That’s amazing too, isn’t it? Ah, ah, ah!” Out of nowhere her cheeks flushed a crimson red and her gaze shot somewhere off to the side. “I’m…s-sorry…that is y-you, right? You are…you are Sato-senpai, right? I mean, you’re the painter Yamada-senpai’s talking about, aren’t you? I mean, if I made a mistake…if I mistook you for someone else…I’d really feel just…no, that’d be terrible!”

Etsuko, now facing the girl, involuntarily loosened her grip around the umbrella. Really, what else could she do?

The girl, Hoshimi Chiba, had short brown hair, damp and plastered to her flushed cheeks as if they were covered in glue and her eyes, though they were mostly obscured behind too-big foggy glasses, appeared to be of the same hue. Possessing a small and unassuming stature, she jittered with motion - she seemed the type, someone who never ceased to find something or someone to fuss over, eternally caught in a cycle of perpetual motion. Within her left hand she cradled a light pink parasol. She didn’t utilize it against the rainfall, instead holding it dear the way one would an injured animal or a newborn infant. Ironically, it seemed like she was the umbrella’s umbrella. The object, anyway, was dotted all around with faded white polkadots and, hanging from the ends were bits of vintage fabric intended to look like a lace trim. Obviously a hand-made piece, which suited her image just fine - however the color palette and overall childlike faux-regality of it all did not. In Etsuko’s opinion, she’d look much better without that wretched thing.

But it’s not like she could tell her to get rid of it to her face. Hoshimi was a stranger. She might’ve wore the same uniform as Etsuko, and she could claim to know Aoi - though that didn’t hold much weight, everyone from Mirai Eiko knew Aoi - and she could be on the student council but none of that changed the fact Etsuko didn’t know this girl. Or the fact Aoi had apparently, once again, been divulging the details of their relationship…

Etsuko hadn’t realized, but apparently she’d stayed silent far too long, because the other girl began biting on her nail and apologizing even further, going on about how horrible it was to assume she was someone else - and then, furthermore, praise that someone to her face. It all made Etsuko’s head ache.

“I’m Sato.” She finally admitted, voice hushed.

“O-oh. Oh, oh, oh! Really? Really, r-really?” Her face lit up again and she nearly dropped her parasol, which, funnily enough, she apologized to as well. As if an intimate object cared whether or not someone broke it. “That’s…Ah, I shouldn’t have assumed! Though, I’m very glad to meet you, Sato-senpai…no, no! T-that’s not the time for any of that!” She suddenly shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. “Have you heard from her? I meant to ask - if I ever ran into you this week, I mean, I told myself I’d ask you, b-because you’re always around her, and you two seem so close, so I thought if anyone would know it’d be you. And she talks so h-highly of you…I thought if she’d tell anyone what was wrong…it’d be you! So I told myself I’d ask you! Did you hear from her? Yamada-senpai? Have you h-heard anything?” Her voice overflowed with pure, unadulterated concern. It puzzled Etsuko. “I’ve been trying to contact her all week! Nonstop! Ah…Ah, maybe…m-maybe I’m being too…do you think…no, no, no! Something could’ve happened! Something horrible! Something really, truly horrible!” In response to her own ridiculous theory, Hoshimi’s knees buckled. “Do you think she’s…s-sick? Or worse? Oh…oh, o-oh! Or worse? There’s been this horrible illness going around lately, I read online…what if…what if Yamada-senpai caught it! What if she’s bedridden? Oh, no, o-h…”

Unrestricted by Etsuko, she carried on rambling for a while longer; most of her points being replications of the preceding exclamation. Her voice - nasally and almost innocent in nature - floated along with the wind’s faint currents, struggling to make sense of itself in that distorted dance. Etsuko herself could do nothing but stand still as possible, trying her very best to listen, or rather appear as if she was attentive, awkwardly awaiting for the girl to come to a natural conclusion. She even began to think Hoshimi wasn’t all that unsuited for the parasol, if this was how she conducted herself.

Eventually the other girl stopped talking, bowing a few times out of pure self-consciousness.

“I…” Etsuko hesitated, resting her free hand atop her shoulder. “She’s fine. Her mother's a doctor.” She paused afterward, hoping that halfhearted attempt of comforting her would suffice, if not as a remedy then as a dismissal, as she struggled to recall whether or not the girl had actually stated her name within that mess of an introduction. “Who…are you again?”

“Oh! Did…I not introduce m-myself? Ah, I thought…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! My name is Chiba Hoshimi. I’m in the student council, with Yamada-senpai…I’m the secretary!”

“Oh.”

“...A-anyway, I was just heading to Yamada-senpai’s house! So…I mean…only if you wanted, because I wouldn’t want to impose if you have plans or anything, I’m sure you’re very busy and all! But I thought, since you’re her friend and all…we could maybe…”

Etsuko, as politely as someone could, cut her off. “I am too.”

Hoshimi giggled, a high-pitched and breathy sound, like the air was being squeezed from her lungs. “Oh! Oh, really? That’s weird! Isn’t it? Then in that case why don’t we go together! I’m sure she’ll be very, very happy to see so many people are concerned about her. It’s important when others are under the weather to remind them of their importance; really, really important! Maybe the most important part of healing someone. And…I mean…if she’s…i-f she’s really, truly unwell…ah!”

Hoshimi tagging along…that would only cause trouble, wouldn’t it? She was definitely the type to meddle in everything she could get her sights on. No, to meddle in absolutely everything, even if she hadn’t the slightest clue what it was she was dealing with. Far too invasive; a mouse. A pest. So if Aoi was truly sick, or otherwise ailed, and Hoshimi was there…

“No.” Etsuko shook her head, voice firm. Though her eyes quickly dropped to the sidewalk. Now her voice’d lost that firmness, just as quickly as it’d retained it, as well. “U-hm…Aoi’s only…she’s o-only expecting…m-me. She a-asked me to come. I don’t want to scare h-her…so, I think it’s best…uhm, if you don’t come, Chiba-san.”

Hoshimi’s smile faltered in an instant. “Oh…” She paused, for once struggling to speak. “Did…did she sound ok? When you talked to her? D-did she sound alright? I haven’t been able to reach her, so I’m just worried…If something’s happened, and…” She tugged on a loose threat of her uniform vest.

Etsuko nodded. “Just a small f-fever. She’ll be back soon. Erm, her mother’s a doctor, I’m s-sure she’ll be fine…you know.”

Etsuko silently prayed the other girl would take the hint; she hoped, more than she’d ever hoped for anything to happen, that Hoshimi would relieve herself of whatever anxieties and obligations tied her to that damned house and just scurry along in the opposite direction. That she and that wretched parasol would never enter her line of sight ever again. Hoshimi, however, hesitated; torn between which of the two arguments fighting for dominance inside her head was the correct option. Should she trust her gut or the girl in front of her? Her hand slowly trailed down to her schoolbag, eyes still locked onto Etsuko’s form as she scrutinized the other girl. Etsuko refused to tear her eyes off the pavement, breath held throughout the entire encounter. She hesitated a while longer, searching for something inside, before finally relenting, pulling out a small, wrapped box from her bag.

“H-here. For her fever…” Hoshimi’s voice dragged off. “I brewed it myself; it should help her feel better. I-if she’s really coming back to school soon. I don’t want her to push herself, so…” She handed Etsuko the box, labeled ginger-lemon tea. “And tell her I said hello, p-please.”

“Ok.” Etsuko fumbled with the tea, stuffing it in her pocket. “I will.”

Hoshimi stood there, stiff and wholly unsure of how to issue her departure. She was so easily set off kilter.

“Bye, then.” Etsuko lowered her head, subtly rushing the girl off. “Chiba-san.”

“Right! Ah, s-sorry!” Hoshimi flushed, averting her gaze. “Goodbye, Sato-senpai, I hope you get there safely…I’ll see you a-around! Ah, ah! N-no…sorry…”

Etsuko faintly smiled before swiftly rushing to continue her journey toward Aoi’s house. Having now rid herself of any obstacles threatening to stand in her way, ‘less another unexpected torrent was bound for her path, she could again return to marvelling at the scenery. She thought it would make a pleasant painting; this street. It surely would.

~

Aoi’s house was something straight out of a magazine. The garden was immaculately kept; each flower seeming to have been individually chosen, plucked for their vibrancy and fullness, with great consideration given to these separate selections in order to achieve an ultimate harmony in the end. The trees, broken up by precisely arranged clusters of bushes, were trimmed to an art, and just behind the house, barely visible from where Etsuko stood, was what appeared to be a stone-lined pond. Surrounded by shrubbery it had a distinct, vivid green glow…positively ethereal! Leading up to the front door lay a stone pathway, with each stone so polished it was as though they’d never before been trodden upon.

The only sign this was a part of reality, that Etsuko’d truly arrived in front of Aoi’s house and not a mystical display of the imagined thing, was a single, discarded, muddied package abandoned by the door…

Aoi Yamada: she’d always been so kind to Etsuko. So giving, so reliable. Aoi was the sort of person anyone could admire, regardless of who they were or where they came from. Even if they weren’t themselves the sort of person who admired others, they could surely bring themselves to admire the great Aoi Yamada ~ she managed to win everyone over with such ease, after all, it was impossible to imagine a being who wasn’t under her spell. Effortlessly charming, effortlessly gorgeous, effortlessly lustrous. She carried something in her very DNA that set her status as a noble in stone from birth! A divine right. Etsuko recognized this…she recognized that her even being near Aoi, let alone being granted her good graces, was a blessing of the highest degree. And that fact satisfied a certain gluttonous ache hidden deep inside her.

It made perfect sense to Etsuko that the empress would have a castle to flaunt, yes. But what she couldn’t get past was the package. How blatantly displayed it was, how carelessly flaunted for all the world to see. Someone from the student council was nearly inbound, for crying out loud! She could’ve seen the package…what would she have said? Simply put, it ruined the whole scene. Turning an otherwise picturesque, scenic painting into something…pedanticly pretentious. How grotesque!

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, Etsuko saw something settle by a second story window. And, as if on cue, the rain started to beat down a little faster.

The shadow of a girl, hidden behind patterned curtains. A frail girl with long wavy hair wearing clothes which were certainly double her size. A girl…with a bulky, hideous cast wrapped around her arm. Aoi. So that’s why she hadn’t been attending school, then. She looked so out of her element that it left Etsuko…jarred. She had her back pressed up against the curtains, what might’ve been a laptop settled atop her lap, and a mug in her free hand. So human, she appeared. But simultaneously also so detached from the world around her. So detached from Etsuko’s… This wasn’t Aoi. It wasn’t her. This girl, she was someone else entirely! There was no way that was Etsuko’s empress.

Etsuko cautiously, allowing the rain to guide her, reached into her schoolbag for a notepad. Then, the moment her fingers grazed paper, she tore her gaze away from the stranger. She refused to betray Aoi any longer! Crouching down, using the pavement as a surface, steadying her umbrella between the crevices of her arm, she began to write. Not out of her own heart, however, but instead out of Hoshimi’s. She tried her very hardest to imagine what that girl’s handwriting may look like, and what she would say in this sort of situation, and furthermore, exactly how long she should drag the note on for. When she was finally done she was left with a heartfelt yet overbearing message of concern, which was truly a plea for Aoi to return to school, which Etsuko then held out under the rain just long enough to warp the forgery into a safe level of ambiguity. She marveled at her work for a brief moment before pulling the tea out of her pocket, tucking the note between a ribbon Hoshimi’d tied around the box. Afterward, with her head low as she could possibly tuck it, she ran up to the door, intending to leave the gift next to that…blemish. Her nose scrunched up, almost in disgust, as the box dropped to the ground, although she didn’t award herself time to ruminate, as she’d already began hurrying off within the same second.

Not daring to give Aoi’s house so much as a second glance.