CHAPTER TWENTY – WORDS OF AMBER (YuKi)
The instructions were clear enough in Naoki's hearing. Most of the girls in the class and very few among the boys looked enthusiastic about it. Beside Naoki, Kenta sighed as he knew that he was obviously out of his element. To be fair, even Naoki was new to what their English professor was asking them to do. He had written many times before in the creative sense, sure, but a poem was something that he had never tried his hand at. As such, he went through his mind about all the different types of poems they had studied in class thus far – free verse, haiku, ode, elegy, and sonnet – and wondered which among these styles would fit his type of writing best.
"You will each be submitting your finished poems on Monday, no exceptions!" their professor called out as they drew near the end of their English class for today. "I suppose that'll be enough time for everyone to research which style they'll want to use and incorporate it into their poem. Of course, I don't need to tell you what'll happen to anyone who copying and turning in a poem straight from the internet. It doesn't have to be an instant classic, okay? Just do your best!"
Kenta leaned towards Naoki's seat. "Help me," he muttered through gritted teeth.
Naoki chuckled. "I think free verse is what you should try out, Kenta. I'll go with that as well."
"Is free verse the one where you get to write anything?" asked Kenta. "Can't I just try out that really short one?"
"A haiku, you mean? And technically, yes, free verse is free writing in a sense," replied Naoki. "A haiku is easy, but only if you have the correct number of syllables in the lines – five, seven and five – and if the lines make sense in a way. With free verse, though, you don't have to follow any rhyme schemes or number of syllables – you just have to convey what you wish to say. Just write creatively."
"'Just write creatively,' he says, like that's the easiest thing to do in the world," Kenta murmured.
"Well, just imagine that you're writing something that you'd like Monika to read," Naoki offered. "All that matters is that you're putting in your emotions and creativity in it, and that you're doing it in stanzas and lines, like song lyrics."
"That just made things a hundred times easier," Kenta grumbled sarcastically. "Ugh, alright, thanks anyway. I'll just see what I can cook up. Good thing we have 'til Monday to get this done. . ."
Once the class ended, their professor made their way out of the classroom, leaving 3-D to wait for the next class. Some students excitedly turned to one another to talk about what poems they would be making, while some opted to speak about other matters to distract from the nervousness they felt about such a project. In the meantime, Naoki turned to Yuri. To his surprise, she looked just as unsure as Kenta and some of their classmates.
"Interesting homework we're gonna be having, hmm?" he asked her.
Yuri nodded quaintly. "Y-Yes," she stammered, "very interesting, indeed. But I d-don't think some of our other classmates are looking forward to it."
Naoki nodded. He sensed that if Yuri would ever write a poem, she would turn in something elegantly verbose. Still, their homework would serve as another topic for another time, so he decided to shift gears. "Ready for later?"
Yuri looked at him. "O-Of course!" she said, her face brightening up.
After their first trip to The Monocle, Yuri had started to shed some of her introverted shyness around Naoki. Though she still stammered and fidgeted whenever she felt nervous or embarrassed, she was now more open in talking to him; there were even times when, in between classes, she would initiate a conversation with him first. It was very different from the times when Yuri would simply wall herself in with her books and thoughts, only opening the door to let Naoki in when asked to. Naoki felt glad about the idea that, gradually, Yuri was starting to feel that she could be herself without fear or worry in his presence. This soon affected their discussions about The Portrait of Markov, which were now more dynamic and engaging than ever, and though these developments came with Kenta's teasing and some knowing glances and nudges from a few of their classmates, Naoki wouldn't have it any other way.
Last night, the two of them had made plans through text to return to The Monocle to read and discuss once again over a cup of cappuccino. At first, Naoki sensed that it might be too much to ask for, since he might be getting on with things too quickly on what would be their third visit to The Monocle so far. However, Yuri surprised him by agreeing to his invitation with an excitement that he could almost perceive in her text message afterwards. It was still not a date in his mind; for all intents and purposes, Naoki felt like he was simply hanging out with Yuri to do what they always did as friends, and not to pursue anything else.
At least, that was what he was trying to make himself believe.
Saying out loud that he might be pursuing Yuri out of a special interest in her would earn Naoki more than a gleeful earful from Kenta and a shocked look from Daisuke. He preferred not to think of it that way most of the time; even in middle school, Naoki had never approached a girl and tried to be good friends simply because he had a crush on her – he was, after all, not like Kenta. Indeed, most of the female acquaintances he had today were good friends and nothing more. He tried to woo a female schoolmate in the past only once, and even then, he had let go fairly quickly, figuring out later on that he was merely spurred on by the pangs of youthful emotions.
Yuri, on the other hand, felt like a different case. As time passed, he had begun taking note of her in a slightly different light – whether or not he was doing so consciously, however, was a question he couldn't answer. On one hand, Yuri was a gentle friend and an excellent literary confidante in spite of her characteristic introversion; it was this side of her that drew him to befriend her in the first place. On the other hand, however, she was also a refined, eloquent, and incredibly beautiful girl, and her withdrawn personality did little to mar the beauty and grace she undeniably possessed. Both aspects of her nudged Naoki to discover more about her as time passed.
He decided to focus instead on their Monocle hangout later. He made a mental note to make sure that he wouldn't forget to bring his copy of Markov like he did on their first visit, though he knew that reading from one copy side by side with Yuri wasn't bad; if anything, the experience was profound and – dare he say it – even a little stimulating. Though their second visit didn't include such an experience anymore, Naoki wondered when the next time that he would read in such a way with Yuri would repeat itself. The way the two of them coursed through the pages as if they were walking hand in hand in the world that Libitina lived in, their thoughts and emotions flowing and traveling as one, exploring and deciphering and analyzing in an exchange more earnest than one would perceive. . .
Naoki shook his head. If Kenta could read his mind, he knew that his buddy would be definitely cackling with pride and glee right now.
The rest of the day progressed normally enough, which was a welcome break in itself. Yesterday had been rougher than most of their school days so far, and with good reason: they had three quizzes and the start of their softball activities in Physical Education in a single day, a coincidence that Kenta cursed for the greater part of the day. Naoki managed to score well enough in the three quizzes even as P.E. gave him pause. Meanwhile, in spite of the rocky relationship she had with Physical Education, Yuri managed to harness some of her growing self-confidence as determination in tackling their softball activities; though she still paled in comparison to their other classmates, she was no longer as timid or mild-mannered as she was before when participating, and if she balked, Naoki always had some encouraging words to help her regain any lost confidence.
Dismissal time soon arrived, and with it came Naoki's enthusiasm for their Monocle trip. Once the two of them had packed their things, they made their way out of the school and into the streets, walking down the sidewalk towards the direction of downtown and The Monocle. Along the way, much like they did on their previous trips, the two of them talked casually about any topic that they could bring up. Some of their schoolmates were also making their way downtown alongside them, and they greeted them amiably as they passed.
Given that it wasn't Friday yet, there weren't as many people in The Monocle as Naoki expected. Because of this, the two of them managed to find a good seat next to the café's windows. They set down their bags and made their way towards the counter to order. Naoki went for the usual cup of cappuccino, while Yuri requested only a fresh cup of hot water; for something to eat, the two of them decided to try out some oatmeal cookies and chiffon cake.
"Why did you order only hot water?" asked Naoki when they had sat back down at their table.
"I've brought some oolong tea with me," replied Yuri. "I wanted to drink it instead of cappuccino for today – coffee drinks do not sit well with me sometimes."
As she spoke, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small box. She opened it, pulled out a single teabag, and dunked it into her cup, tugging at the teabag's string to the steep the leaves in the hot water. Naoki watched as the water slowly turned bright orange.
"That looks nice," he said. "I've never tried oolong before. Mostly, it's just green tea for me."
Yuri smiled bashfully. "You can try some the next time w-we come here. Or right n-now, if you want."
Naoki grinned back. "Well, I've already got my cappuccino ready. Maybe next time."
As Yuri waited for the oolong leaves to steep fully, the two of them took out their copies of The Portrait of Markov. Though the novel wasn't as long as the other ones they have read before in the past, Naoki found that they were taking it slow to digest every detail and nuance that the book was offering. As they read, the story was plunging deeper and deeper into a whole new level of horror, especially after the first big reveal: that the cult looking for Libitina had inextricably entwined religion and science together and created horrible human experiments in the facility that served as their hideout, all for reasons yet unknown. Some of the details were nauseating to read through; there were entire paragraphs dedicated to describing surgeries, mutilation and other inhumane forms of torture in order to subject human beings to the "projects" that the organization was trying to advance. Sometimes, chapters started out with excerpts from what looked like official medical and scientific reports showing whether or not a certain subject failed to pass its "transformation" – implying that they perished under either the physical or mental rigors of such callous tests.
The way The Portrait of Markov delivered such details made Naoki greatly appreciate the technical work that went into it, and he was sure that Yuri thought the same as well. Horror relied on keeping the audience on edge, anticipating the next moment or chapter with a mixture of curiosity and dread. It tugged at the senses, letting a person's mind do the work as it provided sights, smells and sounds that induced fear and anxiety. This aspect is what put horror novels above horror films in his opinion; often times, films delivered everything to the audience in a direct display that spared no detail, leaving little for the mind to fill in, but novels left it to a reader's imagination to decipher what a certain scene looked like, and sometimes, it was this kind of scrutiny that induced the most fear of them all.
For the next ten minutes or so, the two of them read in silence, punctuating it only to remark about a certain scene and discuss what is in it, as usual. An oatmeal cookie here, a forkful of chiffon there, in between sips of cappuccino for Naoki and oolong tea for Yuri, the session progressed normally. Sometimes, the two of them would catch each other's eye, and they would smile at one another as they realized how remarkable it was for them to be neck and neck in reading to the point of thinking about the same thing even if no words were spoken.
When they were done with their chapter goal, the actual discussion started. At this point, the two of them were starting to piece together why exactly Libitina had connections with the cult of antagonists that were after her, but they didn't want to discuss that part in depth yet lest they jump the gun regarding the plot. Instead, the two of them fawned over the unspeakable descriptive horrors that they had read about once again. Yuri, in particular, was positively over the moon about the experience that they brought, about the way they sent shivers down her spine and made her dread what was coming for Libitina. At length, she also discussed the gravity of combining the two unyielding forces of religion and science to indoctrinate people into joining a cult as twisted as the one in Markov.
Naoki checked his watch deep into their discussion and saw that it was only five-thirty. Given that they didn't have that much homework for tomorrow, he sensed that staying for a while longer at The Monocle wouldn't be too bad. "Do you still want to read some more for today? Or do you wanna go home?"
Yuri shifted in her seat. "That d-depends on you, Naoki. I'm fine with whatever you want."
"Well, maybe we can browse for something else to read at the bookshelves over there, hmm?" said Naoki with a smile. "I want to save Markov for tonight – I don't wanna get too far ahead and ruin the suspense we've been building up!"
"Y-Yes, I agree," said Yuri, smiling back. With that, she set aside her now-empty cup of tea and made to stow away her copy of Markov in her bag. As she did so, however, a piece of paper fell from the book's pages and flew to the floor next to Naoki's feet.
"Ah!" said Yuri.
"No worries, I've got it!" said Naoki. He leaned down and made to pick up the paper, but Yuri interrupted him in a slightly panicked voice.
"N-No, wait, t-that's-!"
Naoki stopped, his fingertips almost touching the paper now. "What is it?" he asked, puzzled.
Yuri nervously looked away, conflict evident on her face. "Um . . . I mean, you . . . um . . . you c-can . . ."
Naoki frowned, wondering what was causing her to go like this all of a sudden. So far, the only answer he could come up with was that the paper that fell from her copy of Markov was the culprit. He picked it up and took a glance at it.
The paper appeared to have been ripped straight from a composition notebook. On it, he saw Yuri's elegant cursive script; Naoki knew it was her handwriting from the times she had shared some of her notes in class and about horror novelswith him. However, what surprised him the most was the group of words that Yuri had written.
A . . . poem?
For a few moments, he stared at them, only half-aware of what he was doing. It was only when he noticed Yuri starting to bury her face in her hands and whimpering a little that he realized just how panicky and embarrassed he was making her feel.
"Oh, I'm really sorry," he said quickly, setting down the paper on the table close to Yuri. "I didn't mean to look at it without your permission!"
Yuri shook her head. "No, it's o-okay," she said, her voice a bit muffled from her hands covering her face. "I d-didn't expect it to fall out from m-my book. It's rather embarrassing. . ."
"I'm sorry," said Naoki again, sighing. "I shouldn't have tried to read it if you didn't want me to."
"N-No, Naoki!" exclaimed Yuri imploringly, looking up. "I just wasn't expecting you t-to . . . um . . . see it like this. . ."
"I understand. The page just sort of fell out of your book, so I . . . you know. . ."
Silence crept in, broken only by the sounds of chatter and music inside The Monocle. Yuri's poem lay on the table between them. For a few moments, no one spoke or said a word, and Naoki feared that he may have caused Yuri to revert back to her socially awkward self within mere minutes.
Thankfully, his fears were for naught as Yuri spoke up to break the tension. "I'm sorry for . . . f-for overreacting a little, Naoki," she said quietly. "I was just caught off guard by it. I . . . I do write poetry, but I've never let anyone read my . . . m-my poems before."
"Oh, r-really? How come?"
Yuri played with her hair nervously. "I feel like it's not s-something worth sharing at all. . . For one thing, sharing that level of writing takes m-more than just confidence. Don't you agree? With something like a poem, it is more personal t-than just a story or an essay – it conveys emotions and sentiments, some of which are v-very personal things that you can never lie about. Why would anyone w-waste time reading something a-about me, right?"
She exhaled deeply, which Naoki always recognized as a gesture she always made when she calmed her nerves. "After all, the truest form of writing is writing to oneself. You must be willing to open up to any who will read your writing, exposing your vulnerabilities in the process and showing even the deepest reaches of your heart. I suppose I haven't reached that level of openness in sharing my poems just yet. . ."
Naoki looked at her poem once more. Again, he had no doubt that someone with Yuri's vocabulary and insights can be capable of writing some good poetry, so the fact that she had already been writing poetry for a long time now came as no surprise. As much as he wanted to take a more detailed look at what Yuri had written, he didn't want to do so unless Yuri actually said he could.
Ah well, it can't be helped. He smiled at her. "Don't worry, I understand. It's still remarkable, though. Not many people can write poetry well, let alone do it as a hobby. I'm a bit unsure myself on what I'm gonna be writing for our English homework. You, on the other hand, won't have much trouble with it, I'm sure!"
Yuri looked surprised. "But I'm s-sure you'll be able to write some excellent p-poetry, Naoki!"
Naoki shrugged, chuckling. "Who knows? Most of the time, essays and notes are what I write. I haven't tried my hand at the creative stuff instead. I mean, I've always been curious about writing my own horror novel, but I never get around to it."
"Oh, well, there's no harm in t-trying, I suppose," said Yuri. "After all, great writers started out m-merely practicing their talent at first. It takes years of experience to be able to g-get in stride with what you may be trying t-to write. Perhaps our h-homework will be the first instance that you can p-practice?"
"Maybe," said Naoki. "I guess I'll just figure it out when I get home."
Yuri paused for a moment, still looking unsure. Naoki could tell that there was a debate going on in her mind. She caressed her forearm; it was another mannerism of hers that he was starting to recognize more frequently now.
She blushed as she bowed her head. "Y-You can . . . read my poem if you w-want. . ."
Now Naoki was genuinely surprised. "W-What?"
Yuri closed her eyes, her face turning redder. "It's alright if . . . if y-you're the one who will read it. . . Maybe it can h-help you when you write your poem for English as well. . ."
"Help me w-with-" Naoki began, but Yuri jerked as if she had been hit by a sudden electrical shock.
"Ah! I didn't m-mean to sound conceited or a-anything, of course! I just t-thought that maybe it will h-help you get a . . . a feel of what to w-write!"
"No, it's f-fine, I didn't think you were boasting or anything," Naoki assured her. "I just, um . . . are you s-sure, Yuri?"
He wondered for a moment what it was that he was so unsure about when he had been thinking about reading Yuri's poem only moments ago. Perhaps it was the fact that, after what Yuri had said about writing conveying some of a writer's innermost thoughts and feelings, he felt that he might be intruding on something so personal, so private if he chose to read her poem. With someone who was as reserved with their emotions and thoughts as Yuri was, it was easy to understand how such a thing can be questionable.
As if she had read his mind, Yuri picked up her poem and held it out to him. "It's okay. . . If I'm ever g-going to show this to anyone first, it'll b-be you."
The admission surprised Naoki further. In his ears, it was so sincere, almost like . . .
He stopped himself. No, nothing like that. With a hand that trembled slightly from anticipative nervousness, he took the paper from Yuri's hand and glanced down at it.
Yuri's cursive script was exquisite enough already from what he had seen from her notes in the past, but to see them relay and convey words as personal as the ones he was now reading, they seemed to take on a new aura of pure sophistication.
"Ghost Under the Light
The tendrils of my hair illuminate beneath the amber glow.
Bathing.
It must be this one.
The last remaining streetlight to have withstood the test of time.
The last yet to be replaced by the sickening blue-green hue of the future.
I bathe. Calm; breathing air of the present but living in the past.
The light flickers.
I flicker back."
Though the poem was short, Naoki could not stop himself from reading through every word consciously, almost mumbling them out loud in an effort to wrap his tongue and mind around the emotion and meaning behind them. Obviously, the poem was in free verse, but that did nothing to dampen the message behind it all, which Naoki was starting to figure out as he read. Much like what their English classes about poetry had taught them, Naoki began deciphering who and what the persona in the poem was, and what it was trying to tell the reader.
When he looked away from the poem to look at Yuri, he saw that she had buried her face in her hands once again. Beneath the curtain that her long purple hair provided, her ears were remarkably red. Quickly, he laid down the poem onto the table once more and cleared his throat, not wanting to pressure Yuri further by reading for a little while longer.
"It's . . . good, Yuri," he said. "I mean, really, I liked what you wrote there."
Slowly, Yuri came out of hiding from her hands, staring at him as if waiting for a catch or some criticism. Naoki couldn't help but be struck by how cute she looked in doing so. She stammered, "I'm s-sorry if my handwriting is t-terrible!"
He grinned reassuringly at her. "No, it's alright, Yuri. I'm used to reading script handwriting, so it's not that big of a deal. Anyway, yeah, it's a good poem."
"Y-You really think so . . . ?" asked Yuri.
"Sure!" said Naoki. "I mean, I'm not trying to sound like an expert on poetry or anything, especially since I haven't even written a single one yet, but I'm just comparing the prose from the novels I've read with what you have here. Um, have you encountered those lines in certain novels where one line just has you pause in your reading so you can stare into the distance and just . . . digest what you just saw?"
"Yes, I'm f-familiar with such an experience," said Yuri with a nod.
"And sometimes, the lines that make us do that tend to be the one-liners or what I call the 'one-worders,'" Naoki went on. "They're just one line made up of three or four words, or even just a single word, and yet they tell us a lot and pack a lot of punch. I think that your poem accomplishes that particular feat."
For emphasis, he pointed towards a specific part on her poem. "Like, right here, the line that just says 'bathing.' It's just one word, and yet it allows the reader to start visualizing the persona basking in the light mentioned in the poem, painting quite a deep scene. And the last two lines – which I really, really like – allow the reader to cap things off with a profound way of conveying the poem's message. 'The light flickers,' and then, 'I flicker back.' It speaks of someone in a sort of . . . ethereal state, like the eponymous ghost, since the speaker possesses the ability to somehow flicker back like a light. I don't know if the speaker is actually a ghost, but I guess the imagery of being one is shown by how he or she doesn't feel particularly whole or grounded, like he or she is somewhere in between being complete and being fragmented. The poem gives off a general feeling of being . . . being detached from the world or . . . or something like that. . ."
As he kept speaking, his words slowed down a little as he realized the meaning behind the poem. As he stopped explaining, his mind wandered back towards Yuri's experiences – her timid and aloof personality, her social awkwardness, and the experiences she had that made her feel distant from everyone else. Only vaguely did he realize that he was now staring eye to eye with Yuri as he finished speaking his interpretation. It was another profound moment that made him feel an emotion that he had not quite experienced that much before.
"Y-Yes, the speaker is not a ghost per se," said Yuri quietly. "Rather, she is only symbolically compared to a ghost."
She. That told Naoki a lot. "I see . . ."
Silence prevailed for a few moments until Naoki decided to change the topic a little. "Well, at least you've got a poem ready for Monday," he said, taking on an affable tone to lighten things up. "I might get around to working on mine at home to save some time. Thanks for . . . for sharing your work, Yuri. It's gonna help me decide on what I'll go for."
"Actually, I'm thinking of c-changing mine a little. . ." Yuri admitted timidly.
"How come?" asked Naoki. "It's good enough on its own."
"I think there's . . . there's m-more that I can add to it," she replied, "or rather, there's more I want to add to it. For that, I want to be able to p-put in more emotion in it, to express what I'm trying to say in a more reflective w-way. Sometimes, I feel like I'm holding b-back on what I want to say, and I don't w-want that with this poem. I want this to be . . . special."
Naoki looked down at Yuri's poem again. How Yuri would make such a short but profound work more special than it already is, he did not know.
"Well . . . how about we help each other?"
Yuri looked at him. "What d-do you mean?"
"Let's write together," he said, "right here, right now. We still have time, right? Maybe we can get started on something good for Monday. We'll brainstorm a bit, and maybe it'll help you jog your mind about what you want to change for your poem. I can also ask you for some tips on what I need help with!"
Yuri blushed. "I'm n-not that good, Naoki," she said with a shy tone, but Naoki would have none of it.
"I find that hard to believe, Yuri," he said convivially. "At this rate, you know more about writing poetry than I do, especially from what I've seen so far. If I'm lucky, I can get comfortable with my poetic side sooner rather than later with your help. What do you think?"
"I . . ." Yuri paused for a moment, caressing her forearm once more. When she spoke again, she smiled. "I suppose I can h-help you. I'll do my b-best."
Monday came. As he reflected back on the past few days he had spent talking to Yuri through text about poetry, Naoki felt as if he had just stepped into another adventure that could provide just as much interesting experiences as reading and discussing The Portrait of Markov can bring. Though they didn't manage to finish whatever it was that they had started at The Monocle last week, they did get to polish everything up last night. His eagerness about exchanging poems with Yuri grew as each of their classes for today paved their way for their English class in the afternoon.
As his impromptu guide into writing poetry, Yuri had proven to be a gifted and insightful teacher indeed. Much like what happened during their discussions about literature, Yuri's shyness ebbed away almost instantly when she talked about something she was comfortable with and good at – in this case, it involved offering her knowledge about writing poetry. Though she was a bit reluctant at first to voice out his flaws as a beginner for fear of sounding too condescending or harsh, Naoki helped her by encouraging her to do so, pointing out that it would help him become better not just for their upcoming homework, but also in case he would try writing poetry again in the future. And so, with his openness, Yuri helped him to the best of her abilities, sharing different pointers about how a poem can be written and delivered properly, and how a poem's message and style should work together without being too deliberate.
Though the two of them didn't mention their own respective poems to each other yet for the day, Naoki was eager to see what changes Yuri had made to her poem. Through text, she had reiterated to him that the poem was to be a very special one indeed, with more hope and positivity instead of the emptiness that the previous version possessed. In spite of his excitement, Naoki refrained from asking her about anything as per their deal at The Monocle, and the only glimpses he got from Yuri were the bits and pieces she decided to share with him through text messages.
By some sort of miracle, Kenta pulled through with a two-stanza free verse poem instead of a haiku, stating that he had some "help" in writing. Though Naoki wanted to see what his best friend might have written, Kenta was adamant in keeping his work hidden even if Naoki offered to share his with him.
"You got three paragraphs, alright?" said Kenta grumpily. "I only got two."
"They're called stanzas, Kenta. Besides, it doesn't have to be about that or rhyme schemes or whatever, remember?" said Naoki. "It's all about putting your own flair and emotion on paper."
Kenta, however, wouldn't budge. "You don't have to look at my poem to know that that's exactly what I did. Now beat it!"
"Fine, fine," said Naoki with a laugh.
As their English class went underway later that day, their professor started things off by giving a surprise stipulation with the air of addressing elementary school children for an upcoming parlor game: random students would be called to share their poems to the class. At this, many of the students in the class let out audible groans and other similar exclamations of anxiousness, with Kenta being one of the loudest. Even Naoki was struck with a bit of nervousness, wondering how exactly the rest of the class would react to his first ever poem. The one who looked to dread the sharing part most, however, was Yuri – she paled in her seat and broke out in a cold sweat as she heard their professor's announcement.
I guess private sharing's no longer an option.
One by one, their professor called names from the class list, and those who were called stood up to read their poems aloud. Those who were called looked resigned and spoke as clearly and confidently as they could, and Naoki took this time to listen to what themes they had prepared. His own poem was a take on the ups and downs of high school life, and the joys of sharing experiences with friends such as Daisuke, Kenta and Yuri. Some of their classmates had gone for a more creative and comfortable approach through general themes like nature and the world, but those who appeared more anxious than most had chosen personal themes like childhood and love. Once a reciter finished narrating his or her poem, students gave some polite applause. As he clapped along with them, Naoki was thankful that they weren't required to actually go to stand up front and deliver their poems there, but his anxiety wasn't that relieved even if his chosen theme wasn't too private. On both sides of his seat, Yuri and Kenta were showing visible signs of distress about coming close to being called upon randomly; Kenta kept fidgeting and shifting nervously in his seat, while Yuri was gripping her forearm so firmly that she could see her hand trembling from how tightly she was holding onto it.
As the last person was about to be called, Naoki felt Kenta and Yuri draw their collective breaths, as if they were waiting for a particularly nasty verdict to be laid down before them. Even Naoki felt his heart race as their professor looked over the class list, evidently giving some close thought about who the last poetic speaker for today would be.
"Miss Hoshino."
As the call rang out, Naoki didn't know how to react. Next to him, Yuri appeared to be utterly petrified now; she sat so still in her chair that he wondered for a moment if she was still breathing. Curiously, some of their classmates turned in their own seats to look at her, and Naoki knew that this would only add to her general embarrassment.
To help encourage her, he leaned towards her seat to say some words of support, but Yuri stood up before he could do anything. The look on her face was unfathomable, but Naoki could see a look of slight determination gleaming in her purple eyes, as if she had anticipated being the last student called and was now ready to take the plunge instead of retreating and making everything more awkward than it should be. Breathing calmly, she reached for her notebook and turned it towards the page where her poem was written. Naoki held his breath as he watched her prepare. When she spoke, her voice was both serene and poised, pausing at every line to let the words register on everyone's minds clearly. Slowly but inexorably, the more Yuri spoke, the more she seemed to change in Naoki's eyes. It wasn't the same type of determination she showed back at that memorable P.E. class they had, nor was it the same as the confidence she showed whenever she spoke about something she liked or was good at. Rather, it was emotion given form and voice, pure and wholesome.
"Ghost Under the Light
The tendrils of my hair illuminate beneath the amber glow.
Bathing.
In the distance, a blue-green light flickers.
A lone figure crosses its path - a silhouette obstructing the eerie glow.
My heart pounds. The silhouette grows. Closer. Closer.
I open my umbrella, casting a shadow to shield me from visibility.
But I am too late.
He steps into the streetlight. I gasp and drop my umbrella.
The light flickers. My heart pounds. He raises his arm.
Time stops.
The only indication of movement is the amber light flickering against his outstretched arm.
The flickering light is in rhythm with the pounding of my heart.
Teasing me for succumbing to this forbidden emotion.
Have you ever heard of a ghost feeling warmth before?
Giving up on understanding, I laugh.
Understanding is overrated.
I touch his hand. The flickering stops.
Ghosts are blue-green. My heart is amber."
As Yuri finished speaking in that solemnly serene voice, not looking at anything or anyone as she spoke, silence fell for a few short moments. Some of their classmates began to clap as they did for those who recited before her, but Naoki was far too occupied in digesting the meaning behind her poem to do anything. He listened to every word, almost enraptured, and felt the weight behind what was said and conveyed. Yuri's voice was tinged with passion, yet it was nothing too overwhelming and also nothing too subdued. Much like with what she had taught him about poetic style and theme, the way she spoke was so perfectly balanced, just enough for Naoki to be drawn in. For a while, he stared as Yuri sat back down in her seat, and the aura that had radiated around her as she spoke seemed to subside gradually, but that did nothing to stop Naoki from thinking about what she just showed.
So that's what she meant by "special."
If their classmates had reacted in a similar way as Naoki did, they did not show it. Most of them heaved sighs of relief at the fact that they had dodged their professor's bullets this time around. Once everything had simmered down and their professor asked them all to pass their poems, Naoki glanced over at Yuri. As if she sensed his gaze, she turned her head over to him. Her cheeks turned red, but she didn't look away, and neither did he. It was a new page, a new chapter ready to be explored, with Yuri's poem being the key that opened it all. Naoki was nervous, but he sensed that there might be no need for him to feel so.
Timorously, she returned the smile he gave her. No words were spoken; right now, there was no need for them.