Taiyou

Nishimura-san and I are walking together, side by side. Not even an arm's length separates us from each other. The hot water tap in the public toilet didn't work. It left my hands ice cold. I blew all the air I could from my lungs to my hands. They warmed for a fleeting moment but returned to the iciness from where they began. I rubbed them too, as hard as I could. The friction from my hand rubbing was so intense that Nishimura-san pulled me aside, begging me to stop lest I strain my arms. My hands remain cold, even as the chilly air made way for spring's warming atmosphere weeks ago.

My right-hand clasps with hers, tight as the countless other times we've held hands. My right hand becomes snug just as we take our first steps along the paved path ahead. It's pretty funny now that I think about it. Everyone I've grown up with knows that I like to shine forth my beams of glowing, jovial radiance. I'm sure Nishimura-san would be the first person to agree seeing how much I talk with her. Now, it's her tender hand that warms mine.

NIshimura-san's really quite the Shinigami. Every Shinigami I've encountered knows how to curse people and cause them to drop dead without a whiff of life. Yet when she holds me close, I find myself imbued with her powers. Rising from the deep, my heart throbs and my hands soften as she transfers her powers with her hands. I've said it time and time again. And I'm not about to stop. Nishimura-san is the most amazing person I know.

Her slow pace comes to a complete stop. Our hands remain steady as I follow suit and stand in place. We turn towards each other and I place my left hand atop hers. Without a second thought, my lips start uttering my thoughts bare for Nishimura-san to hear,

"Hey Nishimura-san, thanks for holding my hand again. The washroom I went to didn't have any hot water, and my hands stayed cold no matter what I did. Somehow, someway, you warm my hands right up just by holding them close to you. To revitalize my own spirit just by holding my hand I bet it's yet another one of your limitless powers as the Shinigami. That's why you're so cool, Nishimura-san!"

Normally, she would give me a sideward glance, let my hand go, and cover her reddening face. It's a reaction I've come to expect of her, and I find her really adorable whenever she does that. Even though over two years have passed since we first met, her face still goes beet red each time I say something nice about her.

Yet today feels different. Not a word passes from her lips. Not even a gentle squee or a groan could I note, either. The stillness of her face pushes back against the gusts of wind that blow against her hair. After my words dissipate into thin air, Nishimura-san takes a gentle turn away and walks straight ahead, her hands clenching against mine all the tighter.

On most days I would be the one walking ahead and pulling her along to wherever I wanted to go. This time, I feel her tugging me forward and my feet helplessly tread along the pavement. The thing is, I don't have any particular place in mind. In fact, I really have no idea where we're going. It looks like Nishimura-san is the one dictating where we go this time. As she drags me along, I leave myself to her care, trusting that wherever we go, she'll have something astounding to show me. I have to admit, it's a nice change.

The urgency to adopt a quicker stride emanates from her onto me. It's easy enough to maintain, but her forceful tugs and accelerating pace sweep me off my feet. As she adopts a fast walk, her bangs which cover her left eye sway back and forth like the Sakura trees lining the sides of the pathway. They leave me wishing I could take a moment's pause to admire her cute face. Gosh, she's so enchanting to look at. It's probably her transmitting even more of her powers to me.

There's a song that's been playing in my head a lot as of late. My dad loved the glory days of the big band. Our music system would stream Frank Sinatra singing "Witchcraft" as my parents headed into their bedroom. I'm sure my mom loved it too, judging by her happy swoons. Somehow, I find myself underneath the same spell right now. One set of lines, in particular, rings out in my head:

When you arouse the need in me,

My heart says: yes, indeed in me,

Proceed with what you're leading me to…

The song continues to play in my head on repeat as we walk along the path. The shadows of the Sakura tree branches flicker on her face with each stride we take. Soon, we come across two wooden garden benches placed side by side. It looks like each bench stretches long enough to fit two people. Neither has a handle between the benches, providing ample room to wiggle from one bench to the other. Immediately after my eyes beheld the bench, I feel my hand loosening its grip. Just as I turn my head towards my hand, I see Nishimura-san pointing at the bench.

"Takada-kun, does this bench look familiar to you?" she asks. The air of quiet determination in her voice tingles my ears.

I turn towards the wooden bench and walk up to it with a handful of small steps. The bench itself looks like any other bench I've walked by in any park in Tokyo. I look around, searching for any distinctive landmarks that would help jog my memories. A row of apartments line the landscape behind the bench, bordered by a grey, concrete wall. Tokyo is filled with buildings like these, though. "Not really, Nishimura-san," I shrug back with a dazed smile. I see Nishimura-san's lips mumbling something without an accompanying voice. I couldn't decipher what she said under her breath.

I take a seat on the bench and spread my arms on the top wooden slat. I close my eyes, allowing the gentle wind to blow against my face. "Nishimura-san, you should take a seat! It's quite comfy!" I babble aloud.

I keep my eyes closed, taking in the fresh air filling the sunny day. I feel Nishimura-san's back resting against my left arm. Her shoulders feel ever so gentle against the backdrop of my arm. They bring me back to the days when I would spend long hours picking away at the coarse corn stalks back where I spent my earliest years. The stalks would stand tall amid the scorching heat filling the air in the summertime. After filling my basket to the brim with corn cobs, I would receive a warm embrace from my family for a job well done. They would prepare me a fluffy handkerchief to wipe off the sweat from my brow. My mother would pamper me with kisses on the cheek and my dad would gently pat my head.

I open my eyes and turn towards her. The shadows that blocked her face retreat, casting themselves as a single shadow on the ground below the bench. Her face is the brightest it's ever been throughout our walk. A gentle blush forms on her face, accompanied by a kindly smile. They bring me back to the days I used to prod her into smiling at me. Now, she musters such joy with immaculate ease.

Whatever Nishimura-san's thinking, I'm just happy to sit here with her. Heck, I would love for this moment to last forever.