The school bell chimed for the final time as school was dismissed for the day. The courtyard became active once again as students exited the building to do their various activities. From afar, there were a group of cheerleaders practicing their routine for the upcoming soccer game. There were a group of students from the kendo club, dressed in their traditional attire, walking toward the gymnasium. There were other students leaving the courtyard either heading home by train or bus. Some are being picked up by their parents or their chauffeurs in their luxurious vehicles. In front of the school's entrance, there were a group of students planning for something to do. Regardless of what plans the students have, it was in contrast on what the loner Taro Yamada planned.
He sat underneath the cherry blossom tree as the students were carrying on with their activities. On any given day, he would just go home. However, he decided that he wanted to stay after. He wanted to soak in the afternoon sun and be at peace with his dear autumn. This particular autumn day had Taro's spirits soaring beyond the colorful trees above. The brilliant shafts of sunlight caress the carpet of reds and golds before him, laid out like a carpet for a royal. Each breath of fresh air filled him with a sense of life that almost made him want to shout out loud, just to hear his voice echo amidst the trees; which is a fair contrast to his personality. This cherry blossom tree was very dear to him along with his fountain. To Taro, the cherry blossom tree was the grandeur, the main highlight of his school. The many of times he had spent under the tree that the rough-barked beauties were like his loyal acquaintances. If he could, he would hug if there weren't so many of his classmates about.
With his back against the tree, he pulled out his book of poems and began reading another chapter. He relaxed under the sounds of the wind, the birds, and the words of wisdom of Maya Angelou. It was too bad that his bubble would pop when a certain childhood friend came to interrupt his session.
"I would have figured that you would have stay behind. Trying to act cool under this tree, you baka," said Osana as Taro looked up at her. Taro gradually looked from her expensive black shoes to her salmon pink stockings with white polka dots to her face with her usually trademark expression of smugness. By now, he should have been used to her personality. However, through the shadows, she looked like a different creature. From that particular angle, Osana was very decent looking, at least that is what he thought. Her creamy complexion can tell him that she took care of herself. He smelled a faint scent of shampoo coming from her hair. Why was being particular to details about her today? Osana was right, he thought, he had spent too long at school.
"Why are gawking at me, you pervert," asked Osana. She placed her hands on her hips. Taro sighed because he knew he just entered one of her tirades. "You better be lucky that we are childhood friends, or else I would have knock you in the middle of next week."
"With your flimsy, pampered hands, you couldn't if you tried," murmured Taro under his breath.
"What was that," asked Osana with a rebuttal. "Nothing, nothing," responded Taro. He wanted to end the conversation so that he could return and read his book. However, Osana went to the tree and sat next to him. She sat enough to give him space, but still at a close proximity that still made Taro uncomfortable. Osana knew about Taro's issues with space, but didn't care.
"I am surprised that you are still here after school," said Taro. "I am, myself," said she said. "I was planning to leave until I saw an annoyance messing with my space. I decided that the annoyance needed taken care of."
"Aren't you a pillar to the community," responded Taro as he peered back to his book.
"You sure love to read, Taro," said Osana as she looked over his book. "You waste so much time by reading. If you go look for girlfriend and pop your cherry, then you won't have to be such a baka."
At least when I do read a book, I don't have to worry about it talking back to me in such a cruel manner, he thought to himself. If he had the confidence to speak his true feelings instead of suppressing it, then handling the rambunctious Osana Najimi could have sufficed.
"I read, Osana, because it gives me something to do," said Taro as he closed his book. He knew he won't be reading any further since she was around. "I enjoy it. It brings me life. I like it so much so that I have began writing. Hopefully, it might be something I might pursue after high school."
Osana sort of grin with his previous statement. "With your grades, good luck. You still can't manage to do a decent job in English class, baka."
"Practice make perfect," responded Taro. "At least I can speak English without being tie-tongued."
"How dare you, Taro," stammered Osana. "It's hard, but at least my grades are better in it than yours."
"Grades wouldn't matter when time for final examinations. If you want to go to school overseas, I suggest you pick something up to practice. At least read it to see if it is in English," said Taro. He sort of chuckled. In fact, he was surprised to his consistency of quips towards Osana. In the past, he would normally accept the comments she would say about him. Unsure of the certainty, he was sure not in regret.
"Very funny, you baka," she said. "You win this round, for now."
"I actually win a round? Yay me," said Taro sarcastically. After a moment, the pair were silent for a few minutes. They can hear the sound of baseball players practicing. They could hear the sounds of the cheerleaders practicing their routine. A student on a bicycle would pass from time to time. Taro looked slightly at Osana as she stared directly at the courtyard in front of them. Taro noticed the nape of her neck and saw sweat dripping from there. The musk of her fragrance impacted his nostrils. It was quite appealing.
"I got a question to ask you, Taro," said Osana as she turned in his direction. "Have you ever heard about the legend of this cherry tree?"
"Marcus mentioned to me about it, but I didn't give it much thought," he responded. Truthfully, he knew about the legend of the cherry tree. The entire school was aware of the legend of the cherry tree. He first heard about it when he came to the high school on tour a couple of years ago.
"They say that if you confess to the one you love under this tree on a Friday, then the person would become your love," said Osana as she placed her knees together and sat her chin on her arm.
"Yeah, Marcus did say something about that, but I don't really believe in it," said Taro. "It is just superstition to me."
"But imagine if it was real," said Osana. "Imagine what if you did confess to your crush, right here, right now, and if it were a Friday, what would you do?"
"What would I do," he asked aloud. He placed his finger on cheek as he thought about it. Taro wasn't considered popular with the ladies. There have been a few in his adolescence, but all were momentarily.
"I will be scared. It will be weird. Especially if it is a girl I really like," said Taro. He was honest with his statement, citing that he wouldn't know what to do for his inexperience with women. He has yet to have his first kiss, officially that was. Technically, his first kiss was with the devil herself, Osana Najimi. There were in the fourth grade and they were in the PE shed with other classmates. In a game of truth or dare, he was dared by the girls to kiss Osana. On a whim, he lightly pecked Osana with his lips. Embarrassed, Osana slapped him, knocking him to the floor and walked out of the shed in anger. That was the first time he witnessed heaven and hell at the same time.
"Don't you want to be with someone that you can love," asked Osana. Taro noticed that she nudged closer to him. "You will have to know the feeling one day. Unless you plan to be a virgin forever." She laughed and slapped him on the back.
You have been very concern about my love life. I kind of wish you could get off of it, please, he thought. "I do believe in happy endings. I want people to find love. Only when they think it is their time. I don't think you need some silly tree as a prompt to confess your feelings. It's all superstition. That is all."
"Know what, baka," said Osana as she stood up. "You're right. It is all but superstition. I was just testing you is all. It isn't like I wanted to ask you of all people. You were just there, that's all. Well, it is time for me to go home. Later, you baka."
"See you tomorrow, you crazy case," said Taro as he waved Osana goodbye. He watched her as she left the school and disappeared from the horizon.
Meanwhile, he was trying his hardest to explain to himself on his moment of weakness with Osana. Why was I feeling some kind of way for Osana. There is something in the air aside from autumn. She is my friend, sort of, but I don't want to have that kind of relationship with her. Plus, my sister would kill me if she knew that I was interested in someone.
He looked at his watch and saw that it was time to leave school. He picked up his materials and exited the school grounds. He stopped at the bus stop and took a seat on the bench to wait for his bus. Instead of heading home, he was getting ready to head to work at the bookstore where he will be working as a clerk.
About a year ago, his father was involved in a car collision that left him paralyzed from the waist time. Because of the severity of his injuries, his father could no longer work at the office and was placed on disability. Because of that, Taro's younger sister had to leave the private school that he also attended and went to public school. Fortunately, his mother was promoted to assistant manager at the supermarket and began to bring in more funds. However, it required her to work long hours.
To make matters worse, the doctor bills along with his outpatient treatment were out of their budget. To alleviate trouble, they sold their family car to pay for part of the doctor bills. They have borrowed money through family and friends. What was heartbreaking, especially for Taro's parents, was that Taro sold his prized baseball cards to help his father. If you suffer, I suffer. You are my father. I promise to take care of you. This is for the sake of our future. No need to cry, dad. We will get through this. God will keep us in our home and I will finish school. So don't worry.
On his own volition, Taro decided to get a job for extra income. What better place to find a job than to find a place that sells books? There was a local bookstore in the atrium of the town's garden district. The bookstore was very popular and attracted a large crowd. The manager of the store was familiar with Taro as he frequented the establishment and decided to give him a chance.
About an half hour later, Taro exited the bus and headed for the garden district. By that time, the sun was the below the horizon. The sun's warmth was dissipated and the coolness of the autumn sky filled the void. He reached into his backpack to retrieve his red scarf. It was a present he received from his grandmother when he was child. She passed away when he was 14. He continued to treasure the scarf as it was something to keep her memory alive.
The cling of the bell alerted the another visitor had arrived at the bookstore. Although it was a second hand store, the treasure trove of collection of history, regardless of any era could be found.
The dimmed lighting of the bookstore gave it a private affair for readers to enjoy their pursuit of knowledge. The wonderful sound of jazz made the quaint, quiet bookstore a more welcoming spot.
At the counter was an old woman, not the kind that should be pitied with their old bones and feeble limbs, but the kind who could still run an army kitchen if given a chance. She stood quite tall and slim. Her short grey hair, neat and likely styled with old-fashioned rollers, the kind women used to sleep in. Her face was made up with discrete make-up except her that her lips were cherry red. If she were any paler, then her mouth would be garish, but against her sun-kissed skin, it looked right. When she extend her hand to shake Taro, he could see the soil beneath her fingernails. A gardener, he concluded. Then he noticed her neck scarf, patterned with small roses. It was safe to say that she has one of the best gardens in her neighborhood.
"Aw, welcome Taro," said the gentle voiced older woman, "Glad you could make it." She reached from behind the counter and gave him an apron. Attached to the apron was a nametag with his name on it. The nametag gave him a boost of confidence that he actually belonged to a team.
"Once you get yourself together," said the woman, "We have a new list of shipments that came in today."
"Yes, ma'am," said Taro as he went to the direction she pointed her fingers to.
Taro entered the backroom where they keep their extra stock of books and other materials. When he found the boxes she desired, he grabbed them and walked back to the opening to put them in their proper selves.
"Oh dear," she responded to Taro. "Don't be alarmed with the presentation of these books. These belong in our special area." She had a slight chuckle. Taro could see it vibrate through her wrinkled lips. Fearing the worst and much to his chagrin, he opened the books and saw that it did belong in the special area-erotica.
Her slight chuckle turned into a loud one as customer speculate on the commotion between the boss and the employee. "Such nubile you are, my dear," said the woman. "Now, you must work. You have plenty to do, you spring chicken."
Taro carried the first box and went through the bookstore to find the section. Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, color coded with dots. The fiction area was arranged in alphabetical order. The young adults section was labeled with pictures of their authors. There was a special area for manga for the youth. The children's section featured low shelves and floor cushions. The floor cushions were the bookstore's greatest highlight. Young and old alike loves to comfort themselves on the floor while reading a good book.
When arriving to the special area, the many graphic images of the book covers lit his eyes. From fictional erotica to the cover of hentai, Taro did his harvest to avert his eyes. Osana and his boss were right. He was nubile, naive, and a spring chicken when he came to sex. Taro was interested in the opposite sex, but couldn't imagine of doing any sexual with him. The closest of sexual content he witnessed was when he was in sexual education class in the seventh grade. Even then, he covered his eyes through the "grotesque parts." Even with masturbation, he found that as an issue, but that will be something he would have think about another time.
As he finished bundling the first box of the erotica novels, from his periphial was the sight of sheer beauty. She wore a black business suit. Her firm legs were exposed in front of him. She wasn't wearing any stockings, so he could see every detail of her soft and creamy skin. It was white like milk, which happened to be his favorite kind of complexion. As he looked up, he saw the stunning attractive brunette who happened to be his new Japanese and homeroom teacher.
"Well, I could never imagine running into one of my students here, would I," she said with firm voice. Taro felt every syllable that escaped from her soft lips. Something about that voice was alluring and appealing. It was his teacher, Mitsuko Takahashi.
It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone.
The thought hit him again. It was strange. He wasn't familiar with those words, but he felt that there was a reason if they are once again entering his consciousness.
"Are you okay," asked Takahashi-sensei
"Yeah I am," replied Taro.
"You are Taro Yamada, correct," asked Takahashi-sensei.
"Yes," he said. "I am in your homeroom and in your Japanese class."
"Oh, that's right," she answered as she picked out one of those books from the special area. "I didn't think they would allow young boys like you to doing these kinds of jobs. It is bad for the brain."
"It's not really it," said Taro. "The guy who normally does this is out skin and it is just me and my boss tonight."
"Oh," she responded with a slight chuckle. "I guess that you get a pass for now, Mr. Yamada."
He swallowed a lump. Was she flirting with him or was she just being funny with him. Regardless of what impact, he slightly got scared and aroused by the encounter. Trying to change the subject, he asked, "What brings you here to the bookstore, Takahashi-sensei?"
"I am new in town and I am quite an avid reader," said Takahashi-sensei. "When one of the teachers told me about this place, I decided to check it out for myself."
She is an avid reader like myself. I have something in common with my teacher.
"You'll like it," Taro responded with a hint of excitement. "I have come here for awhile. I love to read many books, especially with poetry."
"I love poetry, myself, Mr. Yamada," replied Takahashi-sensei. "Something about rhythms and flows can be alluring and beautiful. Could you agree, Mr. Yamada?"
"I couldn't have said it better myself," said Taro. "Reading became such a passion since I went to see one of these poets on a field trip a couple of years back. She was such a lovely person and she spoke so well. It felt like she was speaking to my soul."
"Really now," asked Takahashi-sensei. "Could you care to spare me a few lines of that special poem?"
"Sure," he answered. He recited:
An autumn gust blows
Chilling the air and blowing
The clouds and the trees
The leaves blow away
In a final flight they dance
Beautiful yet dead
"Is it cruel or is it kind that the leaves never truly do perceive their flight," said Takahashi-sensei as she completed the poem for him.
"Yes, how did you know," said Taro. He looked at her again. He finally realized that was the very woman who recited the poem back on his field trip.
"You are her, aren't you," he said with excitement. "Why didn't see that before. You are the poet from the forum back then. But your name was different."
"It was a pen name," she said. "Mitsuko Takahashi is my given name. I went by the alias in order to separate myself from my other being.
"Oh, I see," responded Taro as he blushed and reveled at the fact that one of his favorite poem was written by his now teacher.
"I must say, Mr. Yamada," she said, "You have great taste in poetry. Why don't we get together after school tomorrow and I can help you find some better selections. I have quite a selection at my desk. They would whet your appetite."
"I would be honored, Takahashi-sensei," said Taro.
"Good," she said with a smile. "I will let you get back to work. And by the way, Mr. Yamada. Spring chickens should not be reading that kind of dirty material. Understand?" She said that with a wink and left the bookstore.
He returned to the backroom to retrieve the other box of shipments. He was still in the afterglow of meeting one of his favorite poets. He felt that this senior year was going to be hopeful than he could imagine, or so he thought.
