It's Not Easy Being Green
Nagoya Natsuki scowled at her reflection as she tugged at an annoying strand of hair. Even though she had cut it only last week, it seemed more disagreeable than ever before. The style didn't bother her—its god-awful color did.
Her pale green hair reminded her of sickness and death. Natsuki knew that color better than most—her father sometimes came home a little green around the gills after an exhausting day at work. "Exhausting days at work" became the household euphemism for "days where Dad feels guilt for not saving a patient." (Such "exhausting days" occurred rarely but spontaneously.)
Green represented a sort of shame for Natsuki, too. Her mother coached gymnastics at Natsuki's high school—interestingly enough, the school was same one her mother and father graduated from. Many of her peers (and even her teachers) knew her mother as a beautiful, hardworking woman.
The upperclassmen boys—mostly those who tried to sneak into the girls' locker rooms—had seen the incoming student list, and couldn't believe their luck when they saw Natsuki's name printed on the roster.
"She's gotta be gorgeous and graceful—just like her mom!"
"My mom's a nurse at the Nagoya Hospital. Her dad's a doctor there… and apparently he looks really young!"
"Eternally youthful and hot? What a combo!"
Natsuki knew they'd be disappointed when they met her (and when that one student's mother realized that doctor was actually her grandfather). Not that anything her peers said about her truly bothered her.
No, what truly bothered her began a couple weeks ago, when someone had asked her if her mother had an affair.
Taken aback at the question, she'd slammed the locker door. "Why would you think that?!"
"Well… it's just…" the girl paused, trying to explain her thought process. "You look nothing like your mom. And from what I've heard about your dad, you don't look like him, either. I mean… neither of them have your color of hair."
"And what makes you think she told me about it?"
I should have phrased that differently. Natsuki tried not to care about the hushed whispers she heard down the hallways. Had the nasty rumors spoken ill of her, Natsuki wouldn't have cared a bit. But the moment she heard her mother's name mentioned, she knew she had to do something about her green hair. I don't want Mom's feelings hurt.
A series of knocks on the door jolted Natsuki away from her thoughts and back to her reflection. "Natsuki, are you okay in there?"
"I'm fine, Dad. Don't worry about me."
"Worrying's a part of my job."
And the exaggeration of the decade award goes to my dad. Her dad swore she was the reason why he had gray hairs, although Natsuki knew this was nowhere near true. After all, Chiaki's hair looked the same shade of blue as it did in his old high school photos. But he does look a little older than Granddad.
Chiaki occasionally joked about what he called the Nagoya gene of eternal youth: "It was probably a means of survival for my family line. Nagoya men seduced many beautiful women with their charm and wit. Survival of the fittest?" He'd wink at Maron. "It was pretty successful, no?"
On such occasions, Maron responded with grace and tact, but was quite brutal in her own way: "Hmmm, I don't know about that, dear. There are only two Nagoya men left. I'd say that gene's dying out."
Mom said I used to cry when they bickered like that. Apparently I thought they were going to split up because they "fought" all the time. Of course, Natsuki knew her parents teased one another (which was more or less their way of showing affection), and she no longer worried about them getting divorced. She simply didn't understand back then.
"You might want to hurry up, Natsuki—Mom wants everyone at the table for breakfast."
Natsuki unlocked the door and scurried to her seat at the dining table. Breakfast meant a lot to her parents. Since Dad worked long odd hours and Mom worked later in the afternoon, breakfast was more or less the equivalent to a family dinner. "Oh God, what are you doing here?" Natsuki asked the scraggly, purple-haired idiot seated across from her.
Before Maron could properly scold her daughter for her rudeness, Minazuki Shinji greeted Natsuki. "Good to see you, too. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"
"Why aren't you at university? Did you flunk out already?"
"Natsuki!" To Natsuki's surprise, her father reprimanded her from his position standing over the kitchen griddle. "Don't be rude." Usually Maron defended Shinji long before Chiaki ever did. Has Dad ever defended him before?
"Chiiiaki, it's fine." The way he said her father's name amused Natsuki. Shinji always held the first "I" in Chiaki's name a beat or two longer than necessary. It almost sounded like Shinji wanted to call him something else instead. "As you and I both know, it's best to be honest the first time around."
I wonder what Shinji meant by that. Natsuki knew her parents had their secrets—who doesn't? —But Shinji seemed to know something she didn't know. Could it be that the rumor's actually true?
Shinji (wisely) changed the topic. "So, to answer your question, Natsuki… I'm on academic probation for this semester. Meaning I didn't flunk out."
Maron set down a platter of freshly made pancakes on the table. "What are you going to do until it's over?" she asked.
"Wmph," he said while chewing a mouthful of pancakes. He swallowed and repeated: "Work."
Natsuki burst out laughing. "I can't imagine you working a day in your life! I just…" she fought down a laugh and wiped away a tear. "Phew… I have this mental image of you eating all the fruit off of an entire orchard of trees. I hope you're not working anywhere near food."
Much to Natsuki's surprise, Shinji didn't look hurt or upset—he looked (disturbingly, in Natsuki's mind) cheerful. (On the contrary, Chiaki looked like he felt the opposite.) "No worries, I won't be near any orchards." He thanked Maron and Chiaki for their hospitality this morning and went his on way.
"Guess I'd better get going, too." Chiaki stared expectantly at his wife and daughter.
"Fine..." Maron tried to sound annoyed, but she couldn't hide her bright smile from Chiaki. Maron planted a kiss on his cheek.
"And where's my hug?" Chiaki asked, spreading his arms wide.
Natsuki rolled her eyes then grinned. "Here it is." She felt no shame in hugging her father as tightly as she did. "Love you, Daddy." Chiaki ruffled Natsuki's hair and left for work.
"Ugh. I have to re-do my hair now!" She looked up at the kitchen clock. I don't have time... A tide of guilt crashed into Natsuki. I hate it. I hate this color. She pushed through it. "I'm going to walk to school. I'll see you later, Mom!"
Maron waved goodbye. "Sounds good. Walk safely."
Natsuki began her typical route to school. She stopped, however, once she found the drug store. Natsuki stepped on the welcome mat and quietly walked through the automatic doors. She peered around every corner, hoping she would see anyone who knew her (or vice versa). So far, she didn't see anyone she recognized. No one seemed to pay much attention to her, even though she was dressed in her school uniform. I have ten minutes before school even starts. I can do this. I can do this.
Natsuki took a deep breath along with her first step into the hair care aisle. She'd done some research before planning her detour, but she hadn't expected so many hair dye options: electric blue, pastel pink, royal purple, jet black, and so many more.
She narrowed it down to a shade of brown similar to her mother's. "It's perfect." She pulled the dye kit off the shelf and ran towards the checkout lane. Her frenzied dash was cut short when she ran into someone, knocking her and the person over.
"I'm so sorry… I was trying to get to the checkout lane because I really needed to buy this hair dye, and…" Natsuki paused once Shinji stood up and dusted himself off. "Oh God, what are you doing here?"
"Ummm... I work here… And I was going to ask you the exact same question, but I think I know why you're here." He took the kit out of her hands and held it high above her. "Why would you want to dye your hair?"
Natsuki tried to jump for it, but she then remembered he'd played varsity basketball in high school. She had no chance of getting back. Defeated, Natsuki slumped down to the floor. "It's just… so different than everyone else's. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it." I don't want to cry. Not here. Not now. And especially not in front of Shinji.
"Everyone… who?" Shinji knelt down beside her.
"My mom. My dad. Granddad. Grandpa and Grandma. I don't look like any of them. I mean… am I adopted? Or am I a bastard?"
Sighing, Shinji placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're not adopted, and you're not… anyone's illegitimate child. Why would you ever think that?"
"W-well…" Natsuki took her time explaining the rumors floating around school.
"I can tell you this much. Those rumors might have started without you saying anything. Your mom can handle petty things like that. She might look delicate, but Maron won't let anyone pick on you…. Kinda like how you refuse to let anyone pick on your mom. Your mom was really graceful, too."
Sometimes, Shinji spoke as if he'd known her parents long before he was born. It's weird, but Shinji is a weird guy. No surprise there. "I guess you're right. But… I still hate my hair color. I don't want Mom and Dad feel… ashamed of me."
"Natsuki, they're anything but ashamed of you. My mom says Maron showed you off to everyone she could from the moment you were born. Chiiiaki did, too."
Natsuki tried to hold the tears back, but a few managed to escape. If Shinji noticed it, he didn't act like he did. He continued talking:
"Besides, your hair color is nothing to be ashamed of. It's…" Shinji's face turned a little red. "A really cute color. It suits you."
"What makes you say that?" she sniffled.
Shinji's blush grew darker. "I have my reasons. But for starters, it's not a color associated death or illness."
"Then what?"
"I'll show you what I mean." Natsuki opened her mouth to protest, but Shinji held a finger to her lips. "I'd say you're probably missing your first class by this point, so why even show up for the remainder of the day? I have a lunch break in two hours. Meet me at the checkout line… with the hair dye."
Natsuki nodded in agreement. I'm a little confused… why does he want me to buy the dye?
Sensing her confusion, he clarified: "If you really want to dye it after I show you what I need to, I can't really stop you." He stood up and brushed his work apron free of any dust and dirt. Back to work.
His two hours of work flew by, much to Shinji's delight. Everything seemed much easier knowing he would have some time with the girl he loved. He couldn't help but wonder if she still remembered Access. Sometimes, Natsuki seemed to have some faint recollection of her life as Fin. Although it hurt him to admit it, it was probably for the best she didn't remember. I don't want her to carry the same burdens Fin did. But… I wish she knew something about us.
"...Ji? Shinji?"
Shinji flinched, startled by Natsuki's voice.
"You okay?" she asked. "I don't remember you ever looking so serious."
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said. He scanned the box and slipped it into a bag. "Pay up."
Natsuki handed him the cash. "Keep the change."
"No way." Shinji shoved it back into Natsuki's hands, but her deadly glare convinced Shinji to keep it. Defeated, he wriggled out of his apron and tossed it over his shoulder. "Alright, follow me." With a mischievous glint in his eye, he took off sprinting out of the store.
"Wait up, stupid!" Natsuki shouted. She followed his lead. I have to admit, for such a lazy guy, he runs quickly…
"We're here!" Shinji's gleeful announcement sounded like he hadn't run for nearly four or five blocks. Natsuki, on the other hand, found herself panting. Her stamina wasn't nearly as strong as Shinji's.
"Shinji… this is an abandoned old building."
The building might have been used as a nice spot for corporation meetings, but it was far too small to have a nice view. Judging by the broken glass, kids probably took rocks and threw them at windows.
"Keep looking." Shinji opened the door before her and gestured for her to enter.
The building was less than impressive on the outside, but its interior took Natsuki's breath away. Rows of trees and flowering bushes stood tall before her, bathed in a deep green. The surface below her feet was not turf, but beautifully maintained grass, with the occasional clover popping up. "It's so… so…"
"Green?" Shinji suggested.
"Alive."
Shinji nodded. "I was going to plant a few lilac shrubs near the roses I planted, but I'm not entirely sure if they go well together…"
"Wait… you… you of all people… garden?"
Shinji merely stared at Natsuki. Sometimes he had to wonder if she was always this rude to everyone or just him. I'm sure it's just me. But I don't really mind… because I'm the only she does this with. But for some reason or another, her attitude rubbed him the wrong way this time. "What do you think I do in my free time? Hit on you? Eat pancakes? Skip basketball practice?"
"I plead the fifth…?"
Shinji surrendered once more. "Grab me that spade, will you?" Natsuki complied without hitting him with it, so he wasn't about to complain.
Natsuki observed him dig up holes; from what she could tell, it wasn't easy work. Without a word, she knelt next to him and placed the shrub into a hole. She then smoothed the soil around the plant. "You know, I've heard certain plants and flowers have different meanings."
Shinji grunted.
"For example, red roses mean true love. Do white lilacs have any meaning?"
Shinji wiped his brow. "I dunno. Purity? White generally has that meaning."
"And green?"
"Life. To me, green means life." Shinji spoke with such solemnity it made Natsuki wonder if he meant anything more by it. He met Natsuki's thoughtful gaze. "And life's beautiful, don't you think?"
Natsuki felt her heart race. He's talking about me. I'm… beautiful? She fought off the blush she knew was coming. "I… I need to go."
"Natsuki, wait!" She ignored Shinji's protests, but after a block or two, she realized she didn't know where her school or home was located. And she'd ditched her guide to getting back home because she wasn't sure how to respond to an advance. Brilliant, Natsuki. Absolutely brilliant.
She recalled Aunt Miyako's advice about getting lost, which was something along the lines of: "Stay in one spot so I can hunt you down and hand your carcass over to your parents." (She wasn't exactly the most comforting person in the world. But she was honest… perhaps a bit too honest.)
Mom's probably asking all of my teachers about me today… and Dad. He probably will get gray hairs from something like this…
Even though Miyako would more than likely kill her with no reservations, staying put seemed the best option. Natsuki wasn't sure how long she'd been lost, but the sky grew darker and darker. A chilly gust of wind made her pull her arms inward, along with her shopping bag. She threw the box of dye on the ground. "Stupid!" Her voice echoed in the distance: "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"
"Oh God, what are you doing here?"
Relief flooded over Natsuki. "Don't mock me, Shinji."
"I'm sorry," he whispered. His tone lost its cockiness; in its place, Natsuki now heard sincerity and concern. Shinji drew her into his arms. "Are you alright?"
She nodded. "Don't apologize. This is all my fault." She felt herself wobble, but she realized she wasn't the one who was shaking—it was Shinji. Natsuki couldn't quite tell, but was he… crying?
"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," Shinji whispered in her ear. He then spoke far too quietly (perhaps too painfully) for Natsuki to hear his words: "I won't lose you this time, too. I can't."
The pair stood in one another's arms for several minutes. Finally, Natsuki found the courage to speak up: "If you lose me, you'd keep looking for me. No matter how long it would take. You're too stubborn to give up."
Natsuki wished she could tell Shinji how happy he made her, how she liked teasing him, and how… she really, really liked him. She knew he'd return her feelings with no reservation… but I'm too stubborn to tell him how I feel. If it weren't for that stupid promise I'd made…
Natsuki didn't want Shinji to let her go, so she'd have to move for him. It has to be me. She wriggled out of his hold. "Shinji, let's go home." Natsuki tugged his arm in what she guessed was the right direction. Shinji stayed put for a moment, debating if he should answer her question from earlier: "Do white lilacs have any meaning?"
The truth was… they did. Purple lilacs meant the first feeling of love. White lilacs did indeed symbolize purity, but a younger, more innocent type of purity. But it also meant…
"Memories." Shinji knew this might come to bite him later, but right now… it seemed as though there wouldn't be a better time to say it.
"What was that about memories?"
Shinji smiled in spite of the disappointment gnawing away at his heart. "Nothing you'd remember, Natsuki."
"How can you stay so calm, Maron? Our daughter's missing!" Chiaki paced back and forth in the living room.
Maron set her cup of tea down upon the coffee table and sighed. "I'm worried, too. But panicking isn't going to find her. But it will probably create a hole in the carpet if you don't calm down."
Chiaki slumped next to Maron on the sofa. "You're right. I just… I worry about her. What if something happened to her?" His hands balled up into fists. "Do you think she ran away? Does she know? If she does, has she hated me this whole time for never telling her the truth?"
Maron rested her head on Chiaki's shoulder. "Fin might not have liked you, but Natsuki isn't the same as Fin. She might look like her and act like her, but she's our daughter."
Chiaki loosened up a little bit. "That's true. She's stubborn and graceful like you."
"And she's a chip off the old block if she ran away from home," Maron joked. "Say, Chiaki… is this what it felt like? When I ran away?"
"Not exactly," Chiaki admitted. "It's a different kind of fear. I knew you were out there somewhere, waiting for me. But this… I don't know why she ran off, or where she ended up. Was it something I did? Is she unhappy here? I hate to say it, but… I think I see why my dad worried when I took off."
"I take it this conversation stays here where Kaiki will never hear it?"
"Why ask if you already know the answer?" Chiaki said, smirking. His attention diverted from her and turned towards to the door. "Did you hear that?"
"Please, please let it be good news…"
The couple sprinted to the door. Natsuki and Shinji stood before them, looking rather uncertain at the couple in front of him.
Maron burst into tears. "I was so scared, Natsuki."
Chiaki crossed his arms, slightly irritated at their reunion. Scared? Maron wasn't even worried… He went for straight for Shinji. "What the hell were you doing with my daughter this late? I was this close to calling your mother, mister."
Before Shinji could defend himself (or whatever shred of honor he still had left), Natsuki stepped in. "Daddy, he didn't do anything. Tonight was my fault." Natsuki buried her face in Chiaki's shirt, trying (and failing) to conceal her tears. "I'm sorry."
"Do you really think 'sorry' is enough?" Chiaki asked, ushering Natsuki into their apartment. "Shinji, you'd better go home. Now."
"Yes, sir." Shinji saluted Chiaki and fled the scene.
"Don't think you're off the hook for even a second, young lady. What on earth made you skip school and disappear for the day?"
Natsuki dodged her father's question and glare. She couldn't have this conversation with her dad. He couldn't understand what was going on…
"Chiaki, go to bed. It's been a long day, and you have a long shift tomorrow, right?"
Chiaki considered arguing, but Maron was right. She dealt with these types of situations better than he did, anyways. They both had their strengths and weaknesses—talking to his daughter about certain subjects (for example, boys) was not one of his strengths. "Fine. Night, girls."
After he left the room, Maron offered Natsuki a cup of tea. She accepted. "Thanks, Mom."
"Don't thank me yet. It comes at a price." Maron paused, sipping from her cup. "Are you willing to pay it?"
"Ummm…. Sure?" Natsuki wondered what her mother meant by that. Just one more confusing thing her parents did.
"I've heard some rumors around school about me, saying I've been unfaithful to your father… along with some rather unpleasant things about you. Have you heard any of them?"
"Y-yes."
"Do you believe them?"
Natsuki bit her lip. "I'm not sure. You don't strike me as the cheating sort, Mom. But… I'm different than you and Dad, aren't I?"
Maron set her tea down. "I'm different than my parents; and Chiaki's… sort of different than your granddad."
"Eh, I think Natsuki's a lot like her grandma." Chiaki stepped back into the room. "She's actually the spitting image of her." He sighed. "Unfortunately, I don't have any photos of her left. But she looked a lot like you."
Maron smirked. "I suppose we're going to get the Nagoya gene speech again: 'The Nagoya gene runs strong in this one, blah, blah, blah.' But before your father gets into that again, we'd better discuss punishment. Ditching school's pretty serious, but lying to us about where you went today trumps that?"
"I'm grounded, aren't I?" Natsuki groaned.
"No kendo for a week." Chiaki liked the sound of that one. Although she was one of the most promising kendo students, he opposed his daughter swinging a bamboo sword around; he'd seen far too many kendo-related injuries at work.
"But Mom!"
"Listen to your mother," Chiaki said. "I should also add you're to report to your mother the moment school ends."
"After that, you'll go straight home. No stops or visits along the way."
"Fine…" Natsuki knew that punishment sucked, but it was also more than fair. Besides, if Miyako had gotten involved, it would have been even worse. Natsuki yawned. "I'm going to go to bed if that's alright."
"Sounds like a great plan. Night, Natsuki."
"Night, Mom. Night, Dad."
Natsuki curled up underneath her covers, holding her prized possession: the black earring. She loved it, but she hated it. The earring was the only thing binding her to someone else instead of the boy she loved.
It was all she had. And that would simply have to do.
For now.