"You know, I want to quit school."
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea…" Books fall to the floor. "What are you thinking, Ishigami?! I'd be lonely without you!"
The two of them knelt down to gather the books.
"It's those other students. Especially the girls. They look like they want to murder me."
"We're just a few months into the new semester. We may be outsiders, but we wouldn't be scorned that much. It's no use dying so early in the school year."
They resumed their walk. "You don't understand. I can tell about five or six percent of what they think just by looking at their eyes. I can tell they don't want me here."
"Anybody can do that. You're putting too much faith in that six percent."
It is true that Shirogane has noted the divide between those who seemed privileged and those who worked hard to earn their place. It's a mere educational institute, but there's already some social hierarchy between the sets of masses. For a time, he thought he didn't fit in either. He didn't want Ishigami to think the same.
Well, no matter what they think, students are students, and they have schoolwork to submit. Most take it easy and downplay the importance of academics, but Shirogane knows better. For him, it's one of the things he's the best at. Ridicule turned into jealousy when they saw him climb the ranks and achieve the first place in the examination ranks.
He can do anything he sets his passion to, such as studying. He's physically fit from moving about all the time and knows how to fly a plane. However, what most don't know is that he is a klutz in most areas. If he listed off all the things he embarrassingly flops at, he would start to behave more like Ishigami.
It was another routine visit to drop off their assignments. While the more talented bulk of the school prefers to do sports first and studies after, Shirogane had always emphasized being free of obligations. Not needing to do any homework gives them all the time they need for other pursuits.
After leaving the faculty office, Shirogane made a proposition to Ishigami. "It's been a while since we visited town square. Why don't we take a detour on the way to the airfield?"
Ishigami and Shirogane made their way through the genial residential district. Coming from atop the hill, down to the slope leading into town, the two boys descended into the stone-paved streets. Even on the path, the striking colors of the merchant stalls over in the trade quarter were clear on a bright day. People, carts, and vehicles passed through the busy intersections of the central roads.
And beyond the smaller businesses on the market district's rim were dozens upon dozens of multi-storey buildings. Civilians were aplenty, everywhere you looked. This was the beauty of the Grand Port of Laiden; a bastion of liveliness and prosperity.
The teenagers soon entered the bazaar. Standing in the archway, they paused to take it all in. They might have been here many times before, but the scale of it always draws gasps every time; a hundred conversations were happening at any given time. From merchants showing off their wares, to bakers and chefs hawking their fresh delights, to customers haggling down the best prices. Stores occupied the ground floors of the buildings with signs and banners hanging above.
They hadn't agreed on what exactly they would do before coming, instead deciding to go with the flow. The pair merged with the rest of the crowd, scanning the stalls for anything that interests them.
Delicious aromas quickly occupied their senses. Their eyes were drawn to the steam from a group of food stalls, grilling and frying food in tandem with clattering kitchenware; pizzas baking in wood-fired ovens, spiced pork chops searing on griddles, and chicken being deep fried. Most particular was the smell of coal-roasted sausages. Shirogane moistened his lips.
"I'm getting a sausage," he said to Ishigami. "You want one?"
"Nah, I'm thinking of getting a veggie kebab instead."
Nodding to one another, they saunter up to the stalls to make their purchases. Shortly after, they resume their stroll with their skewers in hand, chewing as they go. Ishigami watched his friend eat through his food, and grinned. "So you favor the wieners, my man?"
"Shut your dirty mouth," Shirogane retorted.
As they walked, they passed more and more stalls. Ishigami taps his shoulder and points to a windowed shop. "I wanna drop by the bookstore real quick." They weaved through the crowd and popped inside. The place was quieter, filled with the acrid smell of aged paper. The mahogany interior outlined the frame of the room, from the beams to the bookshelves.
Brushing aside his dark hair, Ishigami walked up to the publications section and started flipping through the latest issues. Shirogane busied himself in the novels section, browsing the different genres.
The bookstore mostly catered to informational literature. Shirogane often looked for material to enhance his technical knowledge for his projects. It wasn't that he disliked regular literature, he just invested more time in books related to his studies. But he wanted to try something new for a change, so he decided to look for something he can get, either for him or for his younger sister. She had become more reserved lately though, so he wasn't sure what she'd like.
Since most of the books were quite expensive, he quickly looked them over. He decided to leave before Ishigami until something caught his eye. A dark blue book leaned by itself facing out. He walked over to pick it up.
The cover was painted tenderly. It felt raw and chaotic, yet somehow harmonious with all the elements blended together. It was a portrait of an angel soaring through the clouds. She had porcelain skin and lustrous black hair, and a white flowing dress. Her face was expressionless, yet noble in a way. In the background was an arcane sky filled with many silver rings, painted in singular strokes.
On the backside was another portrait, that of a shattered moon whose pieces fractured into a glittering trail. There were no engravings of any sort on the covers or the spine.
How strange, thought Shirogane.
Written on the first page, in perfect calligraphy, was one phrase:
"Remembering Why We Fly."
He flipped through the book, but there was nothing in it. Confused, he held it up and went through again in a long inclusive scan. Nothing but blank pages.
He continued to look for clues in the corners and sides of the book. The shelf it came from didn't hold anything either, as the other books didn't seem out of the ordinary. He flipped through the entire thing one last time before giving up, inclining his head in confusion.
Seeing Ishigami looking back at him while waiting in the door, he decided to take the book to the clerk. Turning it over, he wondered, what could be the purpose of this peculiar book?
While continuing their stroll through the bazaar, Shirogane thought about the book in his bag. No matter how many times he tried, he struggled to make sense of it. The clerk didn't recognize it when it was shown to them, nor was there any record of it ever being in the shop. He managed to get it for cheap with the remaining change he had.
"Ishigami, what do you think of this?" Shirogane decided to show him the book.
He eyed the angel girl on the cover, frowning. "I don't think I've seen it before... Is it a fantasy novel of some sort?"
"No, and as a matter-of-fact," he opened the book. "There's nothing in it. Well except for…" he flipped to the very first page, "these words."
"Remembering Why We Fly," he spoke each word. "Did you ask where it came from?"
"I did. They had no clue to its origins. It wasn't even recorded in the shop's logs."
Ishigami had the book passed over, and stared intently at the cover. He thought it felt familiar. Shirogane watched him size it up. He muttered, "What? You think the girl is cute?"
He looked up. "I'm not into flat-chested types. If I recall correctly, that was your thing."
Shirogane's eye twitched. "Whatever, that's not the issue. You were looking at it as if you wanted to remember something."
He nodded. "I just thought she matched up with something I heard of long ago. A rumor, if you will. Overheard it from my dad and older brother. They were talking about 'Lumiens', I think."
"I don't know if the story is true… but apparently, a century ago, Laiden was invaded by a distant nation. They said their warriors were females with wings of light. They came down from the heavens with their swords raised, diving into our army from the sky."
"That's outlandish." Shirogane remarked.
"I know, right? Still, it's interesting gossip. It said they managed to take the Grand Port, but they had to concede anyway due to numerous casualties. I don't know anymore. It really just felt like some drunken fireside tale to me. However, 'female warriors' reminded me of this."
Shirogane's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Lumiens, correct?"
"Yeah. They sound like magical creatures. Although a logical society like Laiden would definitely dismiss it."
"Is there a way to find out more?" He probed.
"I don't know. The library had burned down a few decades ago, but this story dates back a century. It just feels crazy to think about it."
"But what if it's true? That there are such things as Lumiens?"
Ishigami shrugged. "I don't know what to think. All I know is that it was hearsay I managed to catch, and this book of yours made me recall it."
They let the conversation rest in a few minutes of silence. A little later, they found a bench, so they decided to rest for a bit. Shirogane still thought about the concept of Lumiens. To him, they sounded like humans that were born to fly. Something gnawed at him that wanted to be expressed and dealt with. He decided to share it with Ishigami.
"What do you think is the difference between Lumenkind and mankind?"
Ishigami pondered. "I mean they can fly."
"But if you were to take that away, wouldn't we essentially be the same?"
"Well… if you put it like that, I guess so."
"Indeed. But that also begs the question: if we could fly just like the Lumiens, would we ever have invented airplanes? Since necessity is the mother of invention, it would be unnatural to create your own wings when you already have them. Precisely because we can't do these things is what drives us to figure out ways in which we can."
The two boys hummed in thought.
"We have horses and we can walk, but we still made trains and automobiles anyway," said Ishigami as he slumped his neck into the seat. He continued.
"Maybe it's possible that it's human nature to make inventions anyways. Some do it for money, others for charity, and yet others for fame. Sometimes it was practical, other times they only served good as decoration. But whatever we do it for, it's almost our destiny to innovate. We've seen it countless times before, so there's no reason it would stop now."
Shirogane leaned back. "Then what's my reason? Why do I want to make airplanes? I don't want to think it's just because I can. There's a lot of things I know I can do, and plenty more I cannot. But flying is a passion to me… Even if I was terrible at it, I'd still keep trying."
"I'd rather not be your flight instructor if you were somehow that bad at flying."
"Actually, I'd probably be dead, now that I think about it." They both let out a dry laugh.
"I think it just boils down to just wanting," Ishigami interjects. "For example, art doesn't really serve any practical functions or purpose, but there are many who love it anyways. They've taken it upon themselves to turn things or concepts into visually striking masterpieces. Music is similar; people are delighted with a certain piece of music, and it drives them to make more music.
"Some people devote their whole lives to either of these things. Sometimes their efforts are rewarded and they are loved for it, others turn out fruitless and end up forgotten by history." Ishigami looks down. "Some of them today are outcasts, isolated from others in sole devotion of doing what they love. They don't go out a lot, and they can't tell if their works are going to be praised or scorned. It must haunt them…"
"Okay hit the brakes, Ishigami. You're already going on another rant." But Shirogane stares up. "Still, there has to be more to it, beyond simple desires. The urge to fly claws at my every nerve. Everyday I find myself imagining the perfect airplane, one that could fly faster, and soar higher. I work at my desk designing and redesigning this ideal aircraft, not because I could achieve something greater, but because I feel I'll never be satisfied. Surely that's not just desire?"
"Okay hit the brakes, Miyuki. You're already going on another rant." They chuckled out loud again. Still, Shirogane knew there was something more. Even if he couldn't put a label to it, he could feel it; wanting to bask in the unattainable, to soar to where they weren't intended to go before. It mattered not where he meant to go, but enjoying the journey there.
Contemplating his troubled thoughts, he transfixed his eyes on the scattered sky. In the corner of his eye was the broken moon faintly visible in the daytime. It drew his gaze, as if he wanted to solicit an answer. He stared intently, musing over his obsession with the sky as the clouds drifted by, gently covering it up before he could make order of his feelings.
"It's about time we got to the airfield," Ishigami said, checking the nearby town clock.
Shirogane's eyes widened. "Oh… yeah, that sounds about right." He put the book back into his bag, got up, and slung it unto his shoulder. "Let's be off."
He gave one last skyward glance at the covered moon, before hastening along with Ishigami.
The local airfield is simply a big dirt strip surrounded by several hangars and buildings, tenanted by fellow craftsmen and inventors looking to become pioneers of the new frontier in the sky.
Miyuki and Ishigami arrived at their hangar, a wide building meant to store the era's latest flying inventions. Together, they pulled the doors open simultaneously, the scent of dust and wood pervading the atmosphere. Sunlight flooded into the room and illuminated its contents.
To their right, covered by tarp, was a large contraption that nearly touched the edges of the room. It's a mono-wing plane, stretching twenty-five feet in both length and wingspan. It was parked diagonally inside the hangar, the left wing and tail almost reaching the miscellaneous equipment lined across the back walls.
On the opposite side was another plane, also in tarp, however its wings and power-plant were notably missing. It's a prototype model designed by Shirogane himself, and nearing its completion. Individual sections were constructed in a separate workshop, and delivered to the hangar for assembly. Chains and small cranes hung from the ceiling, and tools aligned the work tables surrounding the plane, held up by scaffolding. The two boys were familiar with it all.
Miyuki already drafted its blueprints a year prior, before a state competition was announced. Participants were to build a suitable prototype model to be evaluated and judged, and the three teams who qualified will be provided a new engine for testing trials. Upon hearing it, he leaped at the opportunity. He secured his father's workshop and the support of Ishigami to help create the new prototype.
Now a year has passed, and the deadline loomed. There was nothing to do but wait until the wing was finished and assembled. The work-oriented designer felt restless at the lack of workload, and itched for some stress relief. Combining the state of his current mood, there was only one obvious solution.
They approached the other mono-wing on the right. Straps were unfastened, and the tarp was lifted, revealing the machine underneath. It's a Bleriot XI, the first ever truly successful model of aircraft commercially produced. It had a wooden truss structure with light fabric surfaces, and a three-cylinder power-plant. Simplicity is its key trait. Light enough to fly, but durable enough for rough landings. With a reliable design, easy maintenance, and affordable production values, it has achieved nearly a hundred orders.
The previous owner operated it for a few months, before deciding he had his fill of flying after a harrowing flight that ended in a crash. Fortunately, he wasn't seriously harmed, but wanted to give up the plane. The Shiroganes were able to purchase it for a fraction of its original price. They repaired it themselves, and Miyuki flies it from time to time. Now he's doing it again today.
His eyes narrowed on the splatters of bug residue across the blades of the propeller. The stains slightly tarnished its polished exterior. Miyuki clicked his tongue disapprovingly. He walked towards the wing, brushing his hand gently underneath its textile skin. Dozens of thinly curbed ribs were attached to light spars, all cut and assembled with hand-precision engineering. Such was the case for the tail stabilizers and control surfaces as well. Several bracing wires connecting from above and below the fuselage were attached throughout the wings for integrity.
They checked the plane's structure, inspecting every wiring and control cable. Once satisfied, Shirogane and Ishigami remove the tie-downs and wheel chocks. Then, they lifted the tail and towed the humble Bleriot out of the hangar like a gigantic wheelbarrow. They placed it down outside, and checked the weather once more. A sunny day with calm winds, crystal clear visibility, and scattered clouds; a perfect day for flight.
He made his way to the fuel tank behind the cockpit and confirmed its quantity, while looking for any signs of contamination like water and debris from its bottom sump. Then he turned back to the cockpit. Everything you would expect is there; a control yoke, a throttle, a primer, the magneto switch, a tachometer, the oil temperature and pressure gauges. Lastly, a fuel shut-off valve located at the base of the seat.
Shirogane also decided to build and install his own slip-skid indicator onto the instrument panel, utilizing an inclinometer. Although it wasn't crucial, he found it helpful in handling his aircraft during flight.
The pilot's seat was padded with leather. It was small and cramped, as Shirogane's legs easily met the rudder pedals. He got used to it eventually with practice, and only feels slightly sore after flights. Ishigami fares much worse with his more lengthy build. With all things in place, he donned the aviator's goggles and buckled up. Ishigami went to the front of the propeller.
Making eye contact, Shirogane yells. "Clear area!"
"All clear!" replies Ishigami.
Shirogane emptied his thoughts, and began his routine checklist ritual.
"Seatbelt; secured.
Fuel valve; open.
Throttle; set to half.
Primer…" A few pumps on the primer, and fuel filled the engine's cylinders.
"Engine; primed! Mag switch; on."
He looked back at Ishigami. "Clear to go!"
He nodded, and put his hands on the propeller. He balanced himself, resting his hands flatly on the blade. He yelled, "Contact!" and forcefully brought down the propeller with all his might. His momentum carried him backwards and out of the path.
The propeller cranked and spun for a long whole second, sputtering in tandem with the engine, until it majestically whirls to life. Smoke billows from the exhaust as the engine revved, to be blown away by the propeller's wind. Shirogane's hair billowed upstream as he pulled the throttle back. He took a quick glance at the oil gauges. Pressure is stable; temperature is rising. Satisfied, he inches the throttle forward, slowly putting the plane in motion. Ishigami was well on the side by the time the plane began moving. They shared a mutual thumbs-up as they passed.
Shirogane stuffed in ear plugs to drown out the engine and the buffeting air, and taxied along to the edge of the strip. He let out a comfortable exhale as his plane advanced along the trail, steering with his feet. When he arrived at the end, he glimpsed his oil gauges, before turning to the sky. Airfields usually have traffic regulations to help organize the operations of multiple aircraft. But observing no other traffic, he had the strip all to himself today.
He simulated the emergency procedures for during takeoff roll, and post airborne, preparing his body and mind in anticipation for anything. With man and machine all ready to go, he pivoted the plane to the center of the runway. It was finally time.
A final breath of disposition. He opens his eyes...
He firewalled the throttle, and the engine roared in reply. The light aircraft accelerated rapidly, its tail lifting up ever so slightly as it gained speed. Very soon, the jostling of the landing wheels disappear, followed by a sublime sense of being afloat. He was airborne!
Shirogane let airspeed build up, then gently pulled the yoke back, pitching the nose into a shallow climb. Peeking left, he saw Ishigami's figure waving at him. He salutes him back as he soars by at a spiffing sixty kilometers per hour. He tilted shallowly to the left, the cables warping the wings like feathers on a bird, generating asymmetric lift. He sailed smoothly through the skies, basking in the company of the zephyr, which rocked and nuzzled his plane's wings.
He watched the ground receding, shrinking smaller and smaller while the horizon only grew larger. His view expanded across the land. He could see the smoke billowing from chimneys in the city. Further off were the great ports that housed the steam ships, sailing in and out from the Laiden bay. Banking full circle, he saw the vivid plains, the lush green hills, the open farmlands, and the grand forest. A steam train rolled doggedly along its tracks, with its white cloud of smoke trailing into the distance.
Several hundred feet off the ground, he cruised by the benign clouds hovering overhead. An expression of awe was plastered all over Shirogane's face. Since the dawn of existence, humanity has always dreamt of flying amongst the birds in the sky. Just a few years ago, the impossible was made possible, and the dream came true. With this realization, he gave a jovial laugh and a hearty smile.
He banked back to the airfield, beaming happily to the sound of the firing pistons.