If one tells someone that they must apologize for something they did not do, what sort of reaction should one expect?
Outrage, anger, frustration, maybe even ignorance.
However, Selene had taken the news better than I had expected.
When I informed her about the price Fujiwara-san demanded for his testimony in court, she listened to every word in silence. Her expression was passive. I didn't know if she was livid or bitter. After I finished, she sighed and agreed to meet the man. I pressed her about why she was being so accepting of his terms. "If all it takes is an apology for him to accede to our request, might as well give him it," was her reasoning.
Strange for someone who is the epitome of pride. Shouldn't asking for forgiveness clash with ego? Especially when you have done nothing wrong?
Or maybe I am looking at this the wrong way. Selene is indeed prideful, no doubt about that. But she is pragmatic as well. More than once, she has said that she will optimize whatever methods necessary to achieve her goals, not caring about how honorable or dishonorable those methods may be. So her pride must be dependent on the outcome. If she ultimately gets what she wants, she sees no harm in making up for someone else's mistake. Her hero name, Lucifer, is truly fitting then. Making arrogance and practicality achieve a balance all by herself.
I can tell that she intends to broker a deal with Fujiwara-san. Of course, that is always her go-to option. Why fight when you can settle? Even lawyers provide the same advice when the client wishes to against a powerful organization. Speaking of lawyers …
Sasaki-san has given us good news: the court file is almost ready to be submitted. He just needs a list of all the witnesses willing to testify so that he can lock the case for trial. Likely that is what is motivating Selene to swallow her ego. Following Sasaki-san's suggestion, she brings a manila folder with documents that must be signed by Fujiwara-san, affirming that he will appear in court if called in.
Fiddling with my own tie, I call for Selene to hurry up. She asks for two more minutes. She listened to Sasaki-san's advice, and she is listening to mine. It is my idea to wear our U.A. school uniforms when we meet with Fujiwara-san. To make a statement. To remind him that we are just school students who have not reached eighteen. I hope it will make him more amiable to us. Perhaps he might notice that he is in the wrong for accusing her for his financial situation.
At the very least, the outfits will help with Selene and I to maintain our facade of collaborating on a hero scheme. I'm sure that the man who is keeping such a strict watch over her technology use is also observing her movements. If he has sent a spy, there should be no reason for the spy to suspect anything amiss amongst two students out on a walk after classes. Even better if they presume it is a romantic date, although that is just my wishful thinking.
I was ready to arrange the meeting somewhere private – like the classy restaurant Selene took me to – but Fujiwara-san insisted on meeting at a place where people frequented and help was easily accessible. "Just in case you two try to do anything," he said. I rolled my eyes at his paranoia.
Yet I did not fight him. He was ready to talk to Selene; that was the important part.
Two train rides and a ten-minute walk later, we arrive at our destination.
A public park. Pet owners take their animals out for a walk, couples are out on a stroll, tourists take pictures of the scenery. For a good reason, too. During this month, the plum blossoms are in bloom. These flowers look very similar to cherry blossoms, but if one looks close enough, the differences are visible. Perhaps the most obvious would be the variety of color. Cherry blossoms come predominantly in light pink colors, but plum blossoms range in color. Such is the view ahead of us.
Rows of pinks, reds, and whites shower the park in vibrancy. I must admit, the trees are beautiful. I am half-tempted to believe that Fujiwara-san brought us here because he wished to paint the plum blossoms. Then again, his signature flower is the wisteria. And he has already explained his motives.
Unable to spot Fujiwara-san, Selene tugs my arm and points toward the shoreline. Where the edge of the park meets the lake. There is a sidewalk that goes around the perimeter of the lake, and when we go closer, we see the same flower trees encircling every meter around the body of water.
"When did Fujiwara-san say he would come?" she asks as she pulls a low branch toward her to sniff the fragrance of the plum blossoms.
I check my phone. The text message reads that he will meet us at 4 p.m. It has quarter past four now. I text him to verify whether he has arrived. One minute later, the three dots appear. Then, I am caught in a traffic jam. Will be there around 5. I read the message to Selene, who sighs once more.
"There's nothing we can do about it," I say, equally exasperated.
She releases the branch to intertwine her fingers with mine. "I cleared out my schedule for this meeting. So I am not going to let one man's lack of punctuality ruin it for me. Let's have a date, Shouto!"
I can get behind that. The location is picturesque. The sun will set in an hour, making the ambiance even more romantic. And if we can find a food truck or stall, then it will be the perfect date. At the reminder, I tug her to move with me. "Last time, you treated me to a restaurant and cake. This time, I want to do the same for you. I heard they sell ice cream crêpes around here."
The words ice cream and crêpes are all it takes to bring a gleam to her eyes.
Sometime between eating our desserts and chatting about mundane topics, we have taken off our blazers to use them as picnic blankets. Choosing a secluded spot near the lake, we sit down and wait for Fujiwara-san. After we finish, I offer to dispose of the cartons. When I come back, Selene is removing the spider mums from her hair.
"What's wrong?" I ask her as I sit down again. "It's not nighttime yet."
She smiles and shakes her head. "Just change of mood. Seeing such beautiful blooms made me want to exchange these flowers for those."
"Then allow me to do it."
A little stunned, she stares at me with obvious surprise. However, she grins and acquiesces. Selene rotates herself so that the back of her head is facing me. One by one, I remove the large, green flowers that adorn her like a coronet. Once finished, she reaches behind to keep them. I shift them out of her reach.
Laughing, I place my hand in her open palm. She turns her head to the side just enough to look at me with confusion brimming in her eyes. "They are my treasure now."
She raises an eyebrow, almost as if accepting a challenge I did not even create. "Is that so? I dare you to repeat that sentence when it is a ring of plum blossoms you have to remove."
"Huh?"
My dumbfounded question is answered with a pile of individual plum blossoms resting at my feet. I didn't even see her summon them. Suddenly, a box of hair pins appears at my side. The ones with a small pearl at one end. She demonstrates how for flowers so small and delicate as plum blossoms, she affixes them by threading a pin through their center. "I used this method with the cherry blossoms last April. That way, they don't fall off," she explains.
It was not my intention to challenge her, but it is one I will accept regardless. Making an exaggerated gesture of cracking my knuckles to declare my readiness, I pick up the nearest flower and pin. It is not an easy task. The center is miniscule, the stem length is insubstantial, and the petals are susceptible to breaking from the slightest pressure. Still, I am not going to back down.
"Would you like some help?" she teases.
"No," I answer as soon as I push the pointed end through the bloom. "I got this." As if to emphasize my point, I adorn her dark curls with the ensemble.
The fact that her hair is tied up in a chignon helps. The foundation is already set; all I have to do is insert the pins along the outlines. Little by little, the ring of flowers manifests itself. I am careful not to poke her with the sharp ends but amused enough to tickle her ears with the petal ends. More than once she tries to swat my hands away.
When I finish, I admire my handiwork. A diadem of vivid pinks gleaming above black tresses. Beckoning Selene to look in the water at her reflection, satisfaction courses through me when she tells me that is pleased with the result. The same satisfaction whenever I approve of my latest drawing or painting. Because that is what decorating Selene's hair feels like. Like creating a masterpiece. I have a vision in mind, and my hands work to convert that vision into reality. The process takes time, thought, and effort, but when it is well done, there is no comparison to the immense joy that it evokes.
I want to ask Selene if I may draw her again tonight. With the crown of plum blossoms. But before I can do that, my phone buzzes with a caller tune. Fujiwara-san. I pick up the call.
"Hello? Todoroki Shouto?" I hear from the other end. "I have arrived and am standing by the central fountain."
Mouthing to Selene that he is here, I respond that we will be there soon enough.
Selene vanishes the remaining blossoms and pins while I pick up our blazers.
Tonight, I'll inquire.
Did you know that one of the world's first novel authors was a woman?
Born in the Heian era, Murasaki Shikibu wrote The Tale of Genji. Many lessons from that book still reverberate to this day. One I recall distinctly is an idiom she created: mono no aware. An inexplicable sensation meant to capture the bittersweet acceptance of the ephemerality of everything in the universe. Living, dead, and nonliving … everything is transient.
Such is the emotion that racks me when I see Fujiwara-san sitting on the edge of the fountain.
Perhaps it is the slumped posture, perhaps it is the faded outfit, or perhaps it is the wrinkles in the hands. But this man appears to be the personification of fleeting. No one would notice that he existed if one did not look closely for him.
Maybe that was the motivation. Given the circumstances, it would not be unreasonable to assume that Fujiwara-san chose such an inconspicuous assortment of clothing to keep his identity hidden. After all, he is a renowned painter and an enemy of Hanada-shi. The similarity between mine and his thinking pricks at me.
Suppressing it, I usher for Selene to pause while I greet Fujiwara-san. As I move closer, I can see that he is not alone. Sitting beside him is Akira, who is closing his eyes and wishing on a coin. Just as he tosses it, I speak.
"Hello, Akira."
He whips around and beams at the sight of me. "Shouto-san!" The boy begins to run toward me, arms wide open for a hug. I am ready to embrace him, too, but his father catches him by the collar of his shirt and pulls him back.
"Not so fast," he chides. Akira pouts and whines.
I give him a sympathetic look before addressing Fujiwara-san. "You wished to hear an apology from Selene. She is here with me."
Waving a hand to call her attention, I summon her forth. Slowly, she makes her way toward us. I wonder what she is thinking. A boy she only met once. His stranger father who demands a plea for forgiveness. And her friend who is the mediator between both parties. All I can do is imagine because her expression is carefully schooled.
Selene bows before Fujiwara-san. "A pleasure to meet you this evening, Fujiwara-san. Shouto has told me much about you." Then she bends down on her knees to meet Akira's level. A genuine smile penetrates her mask. "I remember you. Akira-kun. Thank you for the excellent reviews on the school project. Shouto told me your birthday was coming soon."
"April 5!" he shouts proudly.
Selene giggles, "How old will you turn?"
"Eleven!"
Selene hums and manifests a morning glory. "Then I should give the to-be birthday boy his pending present from last year." And with that, she summons another nine indigo blooms, completing the bouquet with a jute bowtie. Akira's eyes glimmer at the gift. She passes the bouquet to him and pats his cheek. "When April 5 comes, I'll give you another one. With eleven morning glories."
"Thank you so much!" he laughs.
He totters off, waving the gift like a trophy. It often goes unnoticed, but boys appreciate flowers just as much as girls. It's nice to not get judged for it, and it's even better to be presented with them, too. I am reminded of my own collection of blossoms, half of which I took from Selene and half of which she gave.
Fujiwara-san makes a sound, bringing our attention back to him. "I believe we are here for a matter unrelated to my son's upcoming birthday."
It is a blatant taunt, but Selene does not let it affect her. Following her example, I maintain a calm demeanor. She grins. Not the overjoyed one from earlier. The cunning one. The one that appears polite enough to conceal the deviousness beneath. Selene is planning something …
"Of course, Fujiwara-san. Shall we take a walk? We can discuss things while enjoying the visage?" Her voice is sweet, leaving no room for denial. Akira's father adjusts the collar of his shirt, slightly perturbed. He gets up and ushers to select a path. "Goodbye, Akira-kun," she flutters her fingers. "I'll see you soon."
"Bye, bye!" he exclaims, too ecstatic from the present, rendering him utterly unaware of the tension brewing between his dad and Selene.
I sit on the rim of the fountain and watch Akira play. Selene would not do anything to offend Fujiwara-san. After everything I have told her, she understands how important this witness is for our case. Even her own statements are proof that she has no intention of ruining this. So why did she smile like that?
Did the demand of an apology actually bother her more than I thought it did. Was my initial suspicion correct? Is she upset with me, too? Are we going to have an argument?
Calm down, Shouto. Stop jumping to conclusions. Selene has given zero indication that she is angry with me?
Then again, she's a brilliant actress …
At this rate, I will overthink myself into ridiculous delusions. Physically shaking myself to escape the turmoil of thoughts, I call out to Akira. The boy bounds over. His giddiness is infectious. I can almost see an aura of yellow sunbeams emitting from his persona. I pat the spot beside me, offering him to sit with me.
He does and stares at me with open curiosity.
I think about what to talk about. A subject that allows me to befriend him better without patronizing him. From personal experience, I can recall every instance where an adult thought they were being oh-so-generous by interacting with me, but really they thought so little of me. It is like the adult forgets what it is like to be a child, thus underestimating the intelligence of the child. I do not want to do that with anyone.
Finally, I reach a consensus. Leaning back on my hands, I ask, "What are you looking forward to most with the coming school year?"
This question is a good start. The response I receive is even better.
"My birthday!"
Should have expected that. I snicker at the enthusiasm. "Well then, what would you like for your birthday?"
Oddly, Akira looks away and fiddles with his thumbs. His exuberance vanishes, only to be replaced with melancholy. "It might sound silly, but actually, I just want to see Papa happy. He really cares about the art gallery. Ever since we have been emptying it, he has kind of lost his passion for painting. Papa's my role model, so watching him be sad makes me feel down as well. So I guess what I really want for my birthday is a victory at the court trial."
The first time I met Fujiwara-san, he mentioned how his son understood that their situation was stressful but was putting on a false smile to pull through. Fujiwara-san wished to see Akira's authentic happiness; Akira desires to see his father's joy. Both father and son are so selfless when it comes to the other. Listening to him, I cannot help but feel a little envious of the duo. Dad and I could have behaved like this. We could have had a relationship as healthy as these two. Even now – when he vow to become a better parent – the damage has already been dealt. Maybe I will be able to forgive him one day, but our relationship is irreparable to reach this degree of love.
However, I am glad for Akira at the same time. His devotion gives me the resolve to fight harder against Hanada-shi.
"While I cannot guarantee a specific date, I will vow you this: you will get your art gallery back. Fujiwara-san will reignite his love for painting again, and the man responsible for stealing it in the first place will be behind bars," I say.
Akira is not someone to hide his emotions. All sorrow forgotten, he gazes at me with hopeful eyes. "Promise?"
I point out my little finger, and Akira seizes the chance to hook his. "Pinky swear. Whoever lies will be made to swallow a thousand needles."
"Thank you, Shouto-san!" And the boy ends the pinky promise with a high five.
I ruffle the boy's hair.
"It's my responsibility."
Time flies by so quickly that it is not until Selene taps my shoulder do I realize that she and Fujiwara-san have returned from their stroll.
I glance at her with an obvious question in my eyes. She lifts the manila folder and smirks. All done. We can leave now. It is past six, and we must return to the U.A. campus. After bidding a farewell to both father and son, we board the train ride.
I practically seize this chance to inquire about what they talked about during the walk. Selene, however, is in no such hurry to answer my query. She stretches languidly in her seat, letting out an audible yawn. "What we discussed? Ah, right. Here and there, mostly," she replies. "Both of us were sizing the other up. When the time came to apologize, I got on my knees for the man and bowed."
"Yet you won the battle of wits," I suppose. Otherwise, why would she behave so carefree.
She hums in affirmation. Shutting her eyes, she murmurs, "Everyone underestimates the cripple. He rectified his mistake immediately."
My inhibitions rise hearing that. "Selene, did you …"
I leave the question trailing. Fortunately, she is adept at catching onto unspoken meanings. "Please, I did nothing of the sort. We got the signatures. Mission accomplished. Tomorrow, we can prepare the list for Sasaki-san's review."
Yeah, we got what we wanted.
Soon this will all be over.
I lean against the backrest, too, and shut my eyes.
"Hope you are ready to remove all these hair pins," she mutters.
I chuckle.
"I will cherish them like jewels."