My parents weren't lying: Luisa really was the sun. My eyes would squint instinctively whenever I caught her doing something questionable. Just like now. I wasn't even sure I'd woken up at the right moment.
The restless creak of wooden floorboards outside the bedroom door sounded like a gymnasium. The walls were bathed in light that pierced through the closed curtains. And there she was—a radiant girl dancing before the mirror.
She was basking in sunbeams that felt warmer than spring, yet lacked the scorching sting of summer.
But what on earth was she doing?
Hoisting her school skirt up and then smoothing it down, she twirled on the spot like a ballerina. She'd tied the top half of her hair into a ponytail while leaving the rest loose. Luisa had always been a bit odd, but this...
Regardless, it was none of my business.
Hoping for a few more minutes of sleep, I rolled onto my other side. I could hear the sheets rustling against my skin. The fabric tangled around my fingers, forcing me to kick my leg a bit more forcefully than I intended. Turning my head in silent protest, I dug a dent into the pillow until it began to feel hard and unyielding.
"Hey, Yori, stop pretending you're asleep."
I couldn't see her face, but her voice carried a hint of indignation. What made her think I was faking it anyway?
"I'm not pretending."
"Then how are you answering me?"
"In my sleep."
Though I'd never actually heard anyone talk in their sleep, I somehow felt it was possible. I just wasn't entirely sure how conscious those answers were supposed to be.
Suddenly, the mattress lurching beneath me felt like the bed had been tossed into the sea. I snapped my eyes open and blinked. A single shadow looming over me was enough to know: Luisa was right there.
How did she manage to move so fast and so silently at the same time? Maybe she was a natural-born assassin.
With a heavy sigh, I turned to face her. While the lower half of her hair flowed over her shoulders, her ponytail sat perched right above her ear, looking like a parrot's feather.
It seemed I'd overestimated her sense of style. She just bought anything that glittered, like a crow.
And yet, it didn't stop her from looking... attractive. I suppose that's what it meant to be born beautiful.
"What?"
"Look at me."
"What do you think I'm doing?"
"You're staring. Look at me properly."
I don't know if it was her vague demand or the fact that I wasn't fully awake, but I barely understood what she wanted.
No matter how much I thought about it, it didn't get any clearer. As my eyes wandered, my mind drifted too, my gaze falling just below her face. Three—or so—buttons of her shirt were undone. It wasn't hard to guess what I saw there.
Typical Luisa. Even if you're burning up, there's no need to be so careless.
Silently scolding her, I reached up toward her shirt to do the buttons. It proved harder than it looked; I'd never fussed over someone else's buttons before.
"What are you doing?"
Her shoulders gave a small shudder. Looking up at her face, I noticed her lower lip trembling while her eyes darted away, then flickered back to my hands.
Couldn't she see for herself what I was doing?
"What does it look like?"
I waited a moment before continuing. Perhaps she finally realized what was happening, or maybe her mouth just didn't want to take responsibility for such an unnecessary question.
By the time I finished, Luisa still hadn't said a word. Usually, such silences are awkward. That's how it goes with people—once a topic is exhausted, the air turns stale, and you feel forced to dilute it with idle chatter, as if afraid of the quiet.
But not here.
Perhaps this was what happiness felt like—finding someone you can just sit with in total silence.
Meanwhile, I noticed her neck and ears had turned crimson. Had fastening her shirt really made her that hot?
Strange. Her shirt wasn't damp, and there wasn't a bead of sweat on her skin. It wasn't that I wanted to examine her in such detail, but she did ask me to look at her.
Speaking of which.
"So, how exactly am I supposed to look at you?"
The sun was shining brighter now, and with it, Luisa's body temperature seemed to be rising too.
"Don't look."
"Eh?.."
Her fickle nature was nothing new, but it was unusual to see her so tense. You could usually find her sprawled across the bed soaking up the sun or racing through the house like a cat chasing a laser pointer. So why was she clutching her shoulders now, as if I were trying to strip the shirt off her?
I wondered: was it because I'd actually done something wrong, or was eccentricity just a standard Tuesday for Luisa? The answer was obvious, of course. But I'd hold off on thinking about it for now.
As I let out a wide yawn and stretched, my elbows popped. It felt like they were hinting that it was time to get up. Even if I lingered in bed, Mom would probably show up soon to play the role of an alarm clock.
Actually, Mom would be better. Whenever Dad came to wake me, it felt like being roused in a military barrack—though, in truth, I had no idea if my feelings matched reality.
Rolling onto my back, I braced my core to haul myself up. In practice, it's easier to get up from your side, but that realization only hit me after the spontaneous physical exercise.
This prompted Luisa to step aside. Still covering her chest and frowning, she shifted from knee to knee like she'd stolen something and was trying to sneak it out. I really hoped she wouldn't act like this at school.
"What?"
I didn't quite understand why such a normal question made her eye me so warily. I could barely see her eyes behind her lowered lids.
"Have you no conscience at all?"
"Hmm?"
"First you… paw at me, and then… you act like nothing even happened."
Paw at her? Was she really that bothered by me touching her shirt? Or was it because I'd fumbled with the buttons for so long? It wasn't my fault they were so tiny.
I wanted to remind her just how often she trampled over my own personal boundaries, but I decided against it.
"Fine, fine. I won't do it again. I'm just not very good with small thi—"
Before I could finish, a sharp smack landed on the back of my head. Instinctively hunching over, I clutched the spot; I'd even bitten my tongue, and tears began to prick my eyes.
For a split second, I thought I heard a small squeak. I was certain it hadn't come from me, but that was the least of my worries right now.
Without a word of explanation, Luisa simply turned and marched out, slamming the door behind her. Though the blow had been more startling than anything, I could feel the back of my head pulsing.
A barbaric wake-up call, sure, but it certainly did the trick of snapping me out of my morning haze.
Brushing away the tears and shaking my head, I swallowed the metallic tang of blood and stuck out my tongue, as if the air itself could knit the wound shut.
So, what exactly went wrong?
I should have gone to wash up ages ago, but instead, I found myself sitting on the bed with my legs stretched out, sighing.
I still couldn't figure out why Luisa was so angry. Had I accidentally pinched her while doing the buttons?
It was easy to imagine Luisa snapping something defiant when she was annoyed. At the same time, she was just as likely to stay silent, ignoring everything around her. Predicting her next move had always been a lost cause—and what had just happened was living proof of that.
Unfortunately, these reflections were going nowhere. Meanwhile, the dull ache at the back of my head remained—a physical reminder that I'd done something wrong.
Maybe I should apologize. But without knowing the reason, any words I offered would hardly ring true.
Time kept flowing even as I sat there, slumped. Yet, this wasn't the kind of stillness I was looking for. Sometimes waiting it out was the right approach, but I didn't want Luisa's first day of school to be remembered like this. No one would benefit if I just stayed here, wallowing.
With that thought, I finally slid off the bed and headed for the door. It would have been much better if Luisa hadn't closed it behind her. But there was no use in hindsight.
When will I finally be tall enough to open the door without a struggle?
The hallway greeted me with a faint draft. Even in the height of summer, when the sun was at its fiercest, it stayed cool out here. From that perspective, maybe windows weren't always such a great idea.
Stepping into the bathroom, I climbed onto the stool to reach the basin and began adjusting the water temperature. Then, I cupped the water in my palms and splashed it over my face.
Soon, my whole head felt damp and warm. There was something about that warmth—the way it spread across my skin—that made me want to yawn. I felt all the cluttered thoughts and emotions inside me being washed away.
Running my fingers through my hair, I scanned the room for a towel. Droplets continued to trail down, soaking patches of my clothes. Unfortunately, the warmth evaporated quickly, and a slight chill took its place.
Drying my hair and face, I stepped out of the bathroom and headed back.
It hadn't taken me long to wash up. But by the time I returned to the room, Luisa was already back inside. And she wasn't alone.
"Good morning. Sit down, I'll do your hair too."
Mom didn't even turn around; she just patted the bed next to Luisa, inviting me over. Luisa, in turn, gave a huff and looked away.
There was no doubt she was still sulking. It would be so much easier if she'd just tell me what I did wrong. Why did she have to make everything so complicated?
Regardless, things couldn't go on like this. Or rather, they could—I just didn't want them to.
I realized for the umpteenth time that I hated it when Luisa shut me out. I didn't mind silence, but not this kind. There was nothing in common between silence and being ignored.
Perhaps that was what it meant to cherish someone so much that it actually hurt. Or was it just the aftermath of that smack to the head? Hmm...
"Stop fidgeting."
Pre-empting any protest, Mom took Luisa's head in her hands and turned her face forward. Luisa's brow furrowed the moment she caught sight of me. Immediately after, she shifted her gaze to Mom, as if to show she had no intention of speaking to me.
Having settled that, Mom moved one hand to Luisa's chin, tilting her face up to inspect her bangs. Who would have thought Mom was a stylist at heart? To be fair, she'd put far less effort into my hair on Luisa's birthday.
Still, it didn't really matter. Now, more than ever, I wanted to be like Mom. Not hovering in place, waiting for things to resolve themselves, but just… reaching out and pulling.
The idea, popping into my head by chance, made my face flush. Though, perhaps my head just hadn't "cooled down" yet after washing.
Truthfully, I doubted I could ever just take Luisa by the cheeks and force her to look at me. It felt extremely… awkward.
"Hurry up," Mom patted the bed more insistently before returning her hand to Luisa's hair.
"Coming."
"One 'yes' is enough."
I'd only managed one step when Mom scooped me up and sat me down right next to Luisa. Our arms brushed instinctively, making her glance at me as if I were a stranger who'd bumped into her. Gradually, her gaze grew so intense it felt like the air itself might crack.
Unable to withstand the pressure, I looked away. But the back of my hand remained pressed against her arm.
From the corner of my eye, I risked another glance. As expected, our eyes met. Though she was clearly still simmering, she looked as if she were waiting for something.
Did she want me to apologize? Right now, in front of Mom? But what was I supposed to say? "Sorry for touching your shirt without permission"? Or… "for pawing you"? Pawing… How would Mom react if I said something like that?
I felt anxiety creeping in, making it hard to focus. And yet, I kept looking at her, trying to read what was on her mind.
I don't know why, but as I held her gaze, my palm turned over on its own. The hard set of Luisa's face began to soften as I gently squeezed her fingers. Almost imperceptibly, the corner of her mouth quirked up.
I wondered—was it because her facial muscles were so tense that the tip of her nose now looked a little reddish?
Even though Luisa's head was now turned further toward me, Mom didn't turn it back.
Like a meteorite, Mom had punched a hole through the dome surrounding us, letting out the stale, stifling air within. What did that mean? I found it hard to say.
Perhaps Mom just felt that something was wrong, and this was her way of helping.
.
You could always make up with someone truly important to you, even without knowing why they were upset. I reached this conclusion after a ten-minute fallout with Luisa.
I remembered not too long ago when Luisa had ignored me for half a day. Did that mean our bond had grown noticeably stronger since then?
Previously, I'd doubted we could get any closer. On the contrary, I feared that with the start of school routines, our relationship would roll backward. Like a stone being lugged uphill: the moment you get distracted, it begins to slide down under its own weight.
Perhaps human relationships were exactly that—a stone impossible to hold up alone.
It was for this very reason that I kept holding Luisa's hand as we sat on the living room sofa, waiting for our parents to get ready.
Breakfast, however, hadn't gone quite so smoothly. Firstly, because my stomach wasn't ready for such an early meal and protested at every turn. And secondly, Luisa was clearly nervous. The skin around her lips and nose was pulled taut, making me wonder if she could even taste her food. Even now, her hand twitched occasionally, as if jolted by an electric current.
Was she trying to get attention? Or was she worried about the first impression she'd make on her classmates? Unfortunately, I had no answer to either question.
There were those for whom a hundred friends weren't enough, and those who were content with just one. Given how chaotic Luisa was, she likely belonged to the former.
Probably...
To be honest, though it felt embarrassing to admit even to myself, I wanted her to be satisfied with just me. At the same time, that wish birthed another question: was there anything I could offer her to compensate for the lack of everyone else?
After a series of short sighs, I looked at Luisa. Studying her face, it felt as though it had been glazed over with ice. Her eyes were fixed on the window. She didn't even blink. Just looking at her made my own senses feel a bit numb.
If I were being completely honest, the thoughts crowding my head were somehow dissipating, drowned out by the ticking of the clock. Every tick was so loud it felt like someone was tapping me on the neck.
A crack had formed in the air—a rift created by the two of us.
Wondering how a crack in the air could even exist, I stumbled upon the thought that it would be much simpler if every day followed a pre-written script.
Whether that would be a good or bad thing in the end, I didn't know. Just simpler.
As if drifting on waves of uncertainty, my palm began to loosen, bit by bit. But before I could let go completely, Luisa practically swallowed my hand, pulling me toward her. I nearly toppled onto her.
"You'll come to meet me later, won't you?"
I looked at her in silence, and that brief pause made Luisa turn to me with a frown.
"Of course."
I intentionally tried to make my voice sound a bit annoyed, mostly because her tone seemed so demanding. But there was also the distinct possibility that I might just oversleep.
"What's with that unpleasant tone?"
Luisa's lips pouted slightly, and with that, the thin layer of ice seemed to flake away from her face.
"You're just imagining it."
I decided not to reveal the whole truth to avoid unnecessary explanations. Or worse, another fight. Luisa was on edge today, which wasn't surprising given her upcoming ordeal—school.
Just then, I felt eyes on me. I went to turn around, but as the breath on the back of my neck grew more distinct, I easily guessed who it was.
"What are you doing?"
"Ho-ho-ho, it took exactly 520 seconds for you to notice me." Dad straightened up, his shadow looming over me. "It seems your technique isn't as effective as you thought."
Had he really sat there counting every second? It sounded highly improbable.
"You're supposed to watch the back, not the scruff of the neck."
Again, it was just a joke. I don't think Euriel actually believed the "technique" worked. Но now that Dad knew about it too, I suddenly wondered: what if?
"Is that so? I'll do that next time then."
"You'd better not."
Dad only blinked in surprise. In moments like these, I rarely understood if he was joking or not. Though I didn't know his exact motives, it was typical of him.
Well, whatever.
"Where's Mom? Is it time to go?"
When Luisa squeezed my palm, I glanced at her face. As expected, it was far from stable. I even got the impression she was wordlessly begging me not to go anywhere. But could I really influence anything?
No, probably not.
Besides, I thought this whole thing was her idea. Now, I wasn't sure of anything anymore.
"She told us to wait for her outside."
"I said no such thing. What are you making up now?"
With Mom's sudden appearance, I had the feeling that while I was asleep, they had all undergone some special ninja training. From the moment I woke up, everyone had managed to catch me off guard. Perhaps one day I'd reach a level of enlightenment where I'd notice people behind me before they appeared, but for now, that definitely wasn't the case.
"I didn't make anything up. I just wanted to have some fun."
His enthusiasm evaporated instantly. It was fascinating to watch a grown man grumble with his lips curled in a pout.
I'd heard somewhere that the first 30 years of a boy's life are the hardest. From that perspective, Dad still had time for some childishness.
I'd noticed lately that as spring arrived, Dad was home less often. Not to mention there was a time when he was gone for several days. Maybe he was trying to make up for lost time?
Additionally, he often looked exhausted, which meant our conversations were kept to a minimum. Though he tried to act like his usual self, even his jokes felt limp.
So every time he returned, I just found it entertaining to watch him.
"Didn't you think that Yori might get tired before she even reaches the school?"
Mom's words had barely left her lips when Dad let out an indignant huff. While it was a fair point, it's not like I was happy about it.
"Then I'll carry her!" Dad declared proudly, hands on his hips.
By the way, I only just noticed that he was dressed... normally for once. No worn-out trousers or torn t-shirts. Honestly, I didn't even know he owned a shirt. It was as if it were his first day of school, not Luisa's.
Luisa squeezed my hand again—harder than before. I almost wanted to ask her to let go, but I knew she'd refuse. I had the impression that Luisa was the type of person who hated it when anyone else touched the toys she liked.
"You think so?"
Mom crossed her arms and pointed at Luisa and me with just a look. This prompted Dad to turn toward us. For emphasis, I lifted the hand Luisa was holding.
My palm felt warm and a bit clammy. Not the most pleasant sensation. But Luisa seemed perfectly fine with it. Even when her hand was suspended in the air, she kept clutching me tightly, as if one of us were hanging over a precipice.
"Then I'll carry them both."
In that instant, several possible ways of such transportation flashed through my mind, and I didn't care for a single one of them. While from my point of view a minimal amount of movement was acceptable, how would it look to Luisa's future classmates?
There was no reason for me to worry about it. And yet, somewhere deep down, it felt a little awkward. As if it were wrong for a big girl to be carried on someone's shoulders.
Perhaps it didn't matter to Luisa at all, and I was just projecting my own anxieties onto her.
Perhaps.
Someone once said that a person far from home feels no shame. How far must one wander from familiar walls to stop worrying about the gazes of others? To another universe, perhaps.
The planet is bound by roads, and it's not impossible that one of them might lead you right back to where you started.
"What's with you?" Tilting her head, Luisa brought her face close to mine.
The way her breath brushed against my skin gave me the impression she was about to bite my nose. And the way she jerked her chin up, bringing her nose level with mine, only confirmed my suspicion.
By the way, when exactly had I turned toward her?
"I think that uniform suits you very well."
In truth, I hadn't really been thinking that. No, that's not right. That wasn't what was on my mind. Besides, the uniform didn't particularly stand out. A plain shirt, a gray skirt, and a gray blazer. She looked like an ordinary primary schooler from the most ordinary provincial town. Nothing magical about it.
Maybe she wasn't enrolling in a magic school after all? Hmm...
Despite my currently blurred vision, I could easily see Luisa's face turning crimson. Was she getting hot again?
To make sure, I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead against hers. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Though, I wasn't entirely sure if this was the correct way to measure body temperature.
All I could tell was that she was warm. Also, her skin was remarkably smoo—
"Ow... What was that for?"
A sharp pain made me recoil; she had struck me. I could practically hear my neck crack. I hoped it wasn't my skull.
I distinctly remembered already being on the receiving end of her temper today. But what for this time?
"What are you doing?.."
Rubbing my forehead, I frowned. Judging by the tension in her face and the way her gaze wavered, Luisa was spooked by what I'd done. Apparently, this method wasn't exactly popular in wider circles.
"Your face was red. I was checking your temperature."
Simple enough, right?
From my perspective—likely. But Luisa didn't seem to agree.
Slowly, the startled Luisa transformed into a tense Luisa. Her back arched as if she were a porcupine ready to fire its quills at any second.
Wait, did they actually do that?
Well, whatever.
"Are you a total dummy?"
A part of me was annoyed that her question didn't actually require an answer.
While I was mulling this over, the sound of footsteps reached my ears, prompting me to look away from Luisa.
"Hmmmm..."
By now, Dad had rested his head on the back of the sofa and was looking up at us from below. Why was he here?
"Is it time?"
"No."
"Then why are you here?"
"Watching."
Sitting on the floor, Dad didn't take his eyes off Luisa. He seemed amused by her reaction. Luisa responded with a light cough, which only made her skin turn an even deeper shade of red.
I tried to gesture for him to leave, pointing toward the kitchen, but I was completely ignored. Moreover, the man placed his palm on the crown of my head and pushed downward.
Luisa looked a bit shocked. I found it hard to understand his motives myself.
"Could you leave, please?" In the end, I had to resort to words.
"Ha-ha-ha."
Dad paid no heed to my request, responding only with a dry laugh. The audacity of this man was staggering.
"So, what interesting things did I miss?"
"Nothing special, so just go away."
"And what makes you think I was talking to you?"
Without taking his eyes off Luisa, he simply waved me off. Trying to argue was becoming increasingly exhausting. Mostly because the person I was arguing with wasn't paying me any attention.
Then I noticed Luisa was looking my way. She looked as though she were being bullied or something of the sort. I knew that because of her "peculiarity," Luisa didn't know how to handle mothers. Но what was stopping her from standing up to Dad?
I might have assumed the situation didn't bother her at all, but... her slumped head and darting eyes suggested otherwise. I wouldn't call the look on her face pleasant, and based on that, I had to take decisive action.
"Mom!" I turned slightly toward the kitchen on purpose to look convincing.
"Hmph, I'm going, I'm going. Tattletale."
What?.. It was a bit strange to hear such a claim from a grown bully.
"Takes one to know one."
Ignoring me, Dad huffed, climbed up from the floor, and headed for the kitchen. It was useless to argue with him, and before I knew it, he was gone.
Once Father finally left, all the tension that had gripped Luisa's body just moments ago seemed to leave her in a heavy sigh. Despite this, her cheeks and neck were still stained a deep scarlet.
But why?
I'd barely leaned forward to get a closer look when Luisa's palm landed on my forehead, covering my eyes.
"Hey, I can't see."
"You don't need to."
Though her words were more of a whisper, I could still make them out.
One could ask all sorts of questions here or start protesting, but I was too tired for that. It seemed I truly, catastrophically lacked experience in understanding those around me.
.
The moment we stepped outside, Luisa grew noticeably quieter. Truthfully, she'd been far too erratic today for me to accurately gauge her state of mind. In just one morning, I'd seen too many different versions of Luisa.
Regrettably, I had to decline Dad's offer to carry me, as Luisa and I had been walking hand-in-hand since we left the house. It didn't bother me in the least. Luisa, however, looked restless.
Constantly glancing around as if terrified of spotting someone she knew, she kept squeezing and releasing my hand. I wanted to ask if she was alright, but I decided to leave her be.
In the end, I resolved to ignore her often peculiar behavior and focus on the scenery instead. Unlike Luisa, it felt like something I could count on.
Everywhere I looked, the signs of spring were unfolding. Both the beauty and the grime were amplified by the sunlight reflecting off the windows.
Roadside trees framed by the sun, the walls of houses drowning in the shadows of their roofs, and streams of people moving in every direction without so much as a glance at one another.
A group of schoolchildren—roughly Luisa's age—dashed past us. They talked loudly in high, squeaky voices, utterly oblivious to the world around them.
I'd like to believe that my own voice doesn't sound like that to outsiders.
"Thank you..."
"Hmm? For what?"
Between the chatter of our parents walking ahead of us, I could barely catch her words. She did thank me, didn't she? I doubted there was a reason for it.
"I don't think I could have faced this on my own."
Faced what? I wished she'd stop being so vague. But given her current state, it was foolish to demand much from her. And so...
"Thank you, too."
It felt like the right moment to thank her back. In my mind, I had far more reasons to be grateful.
It was simple: I was thanking her for forcing me to see the world outside, rather than just looking through a pane of glass. It was as if I'd finally taken off my spectacles to reveal a world that no lens could ever truly capture.
Of course, I had no intention of specifying exactly what I was thanking her for.
Luisa's eyes narrowed, as if asking what on earth I meant. In response, I only laughed. She didn't need to understand everything I wanted to say. Perhaps it was better if she didn't—otherwise, her vanity would pierce the heavens.
"Hey, are you teasing me?" Luisa hissed, nudging me with her shoulder.
"Not at all. Just sincere gratitude."
My answer clearly didn't satisfy her; she was obviously fishing for an explanation. Instead, I stuck out my tongue and pulled down the skin under my eye with my pinky.
Luisa's reaction was instantaneous: she stopped and hooked one arm around my neck while pressing her other palm against the back of my head. Was this some kind of headlock? Either way, I didn't feel any discomfort, so it was fine, I suppose.
"You'll ruin my hair."
"Doesn't matter. No one's looking at you anyway, except me."
Good grief, how rude. For the record, I'm quite popular. In a very narrow circle.
"Girls, hurry up. Euriel should be there by now."
Mom had stopped, hands on her hips, to call out to us. Dad turned around slowly in her wake. His eyes darted between us as if he were trying to figure out what we were up to.
"Looks like you're having fun. I want to—"
"We're in a hurry." Mom tugged Dad by the ear, forcing him to tilt sideways.
Luisa let go of me, but then her palm found mine again. Did she think I was some kind of therapeutic teddy bear? I hoped she wouldn't drag me into the opening ceremony for emotional support. All those induction speeches sounded dreadfully tedious to me.
As we walked, I noticed Luisa becoming more composed. Her hand no longer fluttered between states of agitation. Though the sweat from her palm remained. Or was it mine? No, probably not.
Still, what did the local school actually look like?
In books, you often find stone structures with soaring towers and spires reaching for the sky. Massive wings connected by archways, stone corridors, and courtyards. Walls of dark rock draped in ominous vines for an added touch of mystery.
It sounds magical, yes. Но if you pin your hopes on something like that, reality is bound to be a letdown. For instance, Luisa's school uniform didn't fit that fairytale setting I'd imagined at all. And I hadn't noticed anything of the sort whenever I'd walked this path before.
Perhaps that's what magic is supposed to be: something that blurs the lines between the rational and the irrational—between imagination and reality.
As I pondered this, a chorus of children's voices reached me, and immediately, Luisa squeezed my hand again. Before looking toward the source of the noise, I turned my attention to her. She was calmer than when we started, but a flicker of nervousness still played across her face.
It seemed we had arrived.
Squeezing her hand in return, I looked toward the children. Surrounded by students of all shapes and sizes, Euriel stood by the gates, hunched awkwardly and smiling like a performer after a debut.
It was nice that he didn't build walls between himself and the other children, but I wished he'd notice that the one between him and Luisa still remained.
Seeing us, he straightened up at once and waved. His face changed instantly, as if he'd fastened on the mask of an adult.
Maybe he really wanted to be an actor, but ended up as a bishop instead?
I was about to wave back, but before I could raise my hand, a red petal drifted past my face. At first, I thought someone was intentionally tearing petals off flowers and scattering them. But wasn't that something done only at weddings? Unfortunately, I didn't have enough information on the matter to be sure.
Reaching out to catch one, I only then realized that the very ground beneath our feet was carpeted in them. Looking up, I saw the sky almost hidden behind the branches of the trees these flowers belonged to.
Though they had only just begun to fall, these leaves—or rather, petals—seemed like mere shadows of their former selves.
Had I ever actually seen the trees in this city in full bloom? The thought struck me as we walked along the path leading to the school grounds. Though it probably looked silly to an outsider, I went out of my way to step around the petals, trying not to crush them.
For some reason, a pang of regret washed over me for having missed the moment they filled the trees. I would have loved to see that. And also...
"What kind of trees are these?"
"Is this really your first time seeing them?"
Judging by the intensity of Luisa's gaze, they were quite famous. But no matter how hard I searched my memory—nothing. I had definitely never seen or heard of them before.
"Now, now, you know my daughter is a rare guest in the outside world."
"Hey!"
Mom placed a hand on my head, ruffling my hair. I immediately tried to brush her off, citing my hairstyle.
While it was true, I didn't think it was necessary for every passing stranger to hear about my shut-in tendencies. At the same time, I earned a few sympathetic nods from Luisa. Was she pitying me or something?
"These are Yasciris, and they always bloom on my birthday."
At that moment, Luisa was bursting with self-importance, as if she had personally planted and raised every single one of them. I highly doubted that was even partially true.
"Are they always like this?"
Leaving Luisa to bask in her own pride, I turned to Mom, showing her the petal. By the way, it felt quite pleasant to the touch, yet fragile at the same time. It seemed that one careless movement and it would crumble, scattering in the wind like ash.
"Hey!" Luisa protested, tugging at my arm.
"Actually, no. There are so many blossoms that no one knows their exact number."
"Hmm?"
I was genuinely baffled by such an explanation. How was it that all the trees took on the same color at once and changed it just as simultaneously? Perhaps this was the truest embodiment of magic.
A wide, warm smile spread across Mom's face. One so bright it seemed she was ready to burst into laughter at any second. Was my confusion really that entertaining to her?
"I've heard that no one has ever lived long enough to see all of their shades."
"Dad said that when I was born, they were pink," Luisa chimed in.
Though Luisa's comment didn't refer to me directly, I gave her a slightly bashful smile.
"Is that so?.."
I felt as though I'd seen trees with pink blossoms somewhere before. Where could that have been? Well, maybe I just imagined it.
I wondered, if I had been born in the spring, what color would the petals have been? Green, probably. Not that green is a particularly special color for a tree, just...
"And when I was born, the flowers were yellow."
It seemed Euriel had grown tired of waiting for us at the gates. He had crept up so stealthily that Luisa nearly jumped when he placed a hand on her shoulder.
"When you were born, the trees were bald," Dad remarked, crossing his arms.
"Are you that concerned about your own receding hairline, dear friend?"
By his own standards, Euriel was probably being quite calm. Apparently, he didn't realize what his face looked like right now. It seemed he was trying to force a smile, but to no avail. Both his eyes and mouth had taken on the shape of a sliced helion. Dad had definitely struck a nerve.
"Goodness, not at all, nothing of the sort." Dad pointedly ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to prove his hairline was just fine. "You were born in the summer, weren't you? Yasciris don't bloom in the summer."
"So what? Before that, they were yellow."
"Poor things. They couldn't take it and went bald right before you arrived."
Before their bickering could escalate any further, Mom flicked them both on the forehead, forcing them apart. I turned away from the spectacle, pulling Luisa along so as not to be associated with them.
Even if they were being more restrained than usual at home, the fact that things could be worse didn't automatically make the situation good, right?
I didn't quite understand why Euriel was so stung by Dad's words. Unlike Father, he didn't have a receding hairline. Truthfully, even though the subject had come up, I hadn't noticed one on either of them.
Maybe this was some kind of sensitive area for every man? Not that I wanted to go bald in the future myself, but right now, it was hard for me to grasp.
"Have you been here before?"
I asked just in case. If Luisa knew what lay beyond those walls, it might not change anything, but it would at least sate my curiosity.
Crowds of students continued to arrive. Some on foot, some in private carriages, and others in shared wagons that looked like a sort of school bus. Wedged between them, Luisa and I reached the gates. In doing so, we seemed to draw attention to ourselves—as if we were trying to sneak in.
"No, I... Oh, right."
It took me a moment to realize why Luisa's face was suddenly taking on the same hue as the blooming Yasciris around us.
Ah? What "ah"?.. And me?
"I haven't been either."
I decided to keep the conversation going. Though I probably should have made a joke of it, all my effort was spent trying to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond the gates. Unfortunately, I still saw nothing but a multitude of trees and a path winding between them.
Meanwhile, I still caught the occasional inquisitive glance from the passing students. Likely, neither my clothes nor I myself fit into these surroundings.
Gradually, I stopped paying attention to the questioning looks of others. There was no bond between us, so it didn't matter much how I looked in the eyes of strangers, as long as my presence kept Luisa calm.
"You remember what you promised, right?"
I'd heard somewhere that even given a second chance, almost no one manages to change anything of significance. I had another opportunity to tease Luisa, but looking at her, I simply couldn't.
How cruel would one have to be to lie to a loved one's face, even in jest?
I found myself unable to take my eyes off her. Had I ever seen such a helpless look in her eyes before, as if my silence were wounding her?
Very soon, Luisa couldn't take it anymore and tossed her head back, as if prodding me for an answer.
"Of course. I'll come for you."
"We don't have to go anywhere. The opening speech will last about half an hour, and that's it for today." Dad gave me a hearty pat on the back.
"And what about the class assignments and the orientation hour?" Euriel immediately interjected, patting Dad on the back in return. "It's obvious at a glance that you never attended school."
"What did you say?" Dad growled.
Why was it that every time they were together, I always felt like running away? Now that truly was a mystery.
I tried to pull away again, but this time Mom stopped me. She knelt before us, placing her hands on our shoulders.
"Have some fun in there, alright?"
Of course, I knew she was speaking to Luisa. Но due to so many missed opportunities, I couldn't resist chiming in.
"I'll try very hard not to make Luisa blush because of me."
"Is that so? Well, you're a bit late for that."
As if trying to distract me, Mom pinched my nose between her fingers and turned back to Luisa. I tried to wriggle free, twisting my head slightly. Apparently, not so slightly, as my head even began to spin, yet my nose remained caught.
"Now, go on."
With those words, Mom finally released my nose and straightened up, nudging Luisa forward.
"Okay."
Her voice struck me as cold and sharp, a stark contrast to the Luisa I knew. Moreover, it sounded forced—as if she were exerting colossal effort just to speak.
A feeling that the school, even before truly beginning, had already started to change Luisa, suddenly pricked my heart with a chill.
Unconsciously, I reached out for her, but she only cast a sidelong glance in my direction. Then, without even saying goodbye, Luisa turned and walked away.
Amidst the sounds of the crowd of students behind me, I stood watching her go. Along with her, the scent of flowers that had previously filled my lungs now seemed to reek of grime.
.
It was not unusual for things that seemed inseparable yesterday to find no common ground today. Memories didn't age, but we... we did.
Just like our age, our surroundings and interests changed as well. I'd seen it happen countless times. Though, I wasn't entirely sure where.
Nevertheless, my imagination conjured images so vivid that, willy-nilly, I began to believe in them myself.
Would I really just accept it and give up? The question kept echoing in my mind, much like the roar of the crowd on that day.
And yet, naturally, I gave up and did nothing. I had an inkling of what I should have done—ignored the pain and screamed—but instead, I only let out a feeble groan.
No matter how far you stretch your hand toward the sun, it won't get any closer. But the warmth and light it radiates will remain forever.
Perhaps that's what memories were—the things that filled my body with warmth after that tiny sliver of ice had melted.
I met Luisa, just as I'd promised. She was the same as ever when she returned home. Despite this, I couldn't shake the feeling that, step by step, she was continuing to walk away from me.
The next day she went to school again, and that same evening... she returned home with Euriel.
It came as a genuine shock to me. And yet, the parting went surprisingly smoothly. On both sides. It wasn't hard for me to smile and wave at her. Just like that morning, when I'd naively believed that things would continue this way, day after day.
It felt as though the friendship between us had corroded and was crumbling away. But was it even friendship? To be honest, I didn't have an answer. For some reason, I just couldn't find it.
Luisa, however, seemed to have an answer. And unlike me, she didn't need much time to voice it.
"Hey, Yori. Why are you in bed again?"
That was the first question Luisa asked as she burst unceremoniously into my room. Objectively speaking, it was our room, but we'll gloss over that.
Squinting, I glanced at the summer sunbeams piercing through the curtains, and a single thought immediately popped into my head:
"I think I forgot something."
"And where am I supposed to be?"
"What do you mean 'where'? We agreed you'd meet me every Friday." She hung her bag on the chair and smoothed her hair. "I already compromised by agreeing to just one day."
"Oh, so today is Friday?"
"Are you kidding me?"
At least a month had passed since then, and I hadn't seen that version of Luisa—the one coated in a thick layer of ice—ever since. Sometimes I caught myself thinking I'd imagined the whole thing. But whenever I remembered it, my heart would skip a beat, refuting my doubts.
Every day after school, Luisa came to my house. As it turned out, Euriel simply didn't want her to be alone while he was busy at the temple.
I wondered if Luisa knew it would turn out this way. Probably. It was only when she returned that I noticed some of her things still filled my wardrobe. And considering she stayed over every weekend, it was hard to say she'd truly moved out. It was as if our houses were connected by underground tunnels; my home was her home, too.
She was something of a burrowing owl. Stretch out your hand, and she'll settle on it to sleep. Offer food, and she'll move in forever. And so, we agreed that every Friday I would meet her so we could walk home together.
Not that I blamed her for it. If I had the chance to fit into the palm of a hand, I might have done the same. Though, perhaps the similarities ended there.
But more importantly: why had no one reminded me that I'd forgotten to meet Luisa?
"Now you owe me."
"Huh? What? Why?"
"You broke a promise. That's a big deal, you know."
Dismissing it with something like, "It's your own fault for not reminding me," would have been the logical thing to do, but... when I opened my mouth, the words simply refused to come out. What was that about?
Luisa looked baffled, watching my lips move soundlessly. She even stepped closer, as if trying to read my lips, which started to make me a little nervous.
"What... what do you want?"
In the end, I gave in again. It seemed to have become a tradition.
"You're going to walk me every Monday."
As she said this, an innocent smile appeared on her face—very typical for her age, yet rare to see.
"Eh?"
"Don't 'eh' me. You won't die if you get up before noon once a week."
The way she stood beside me almost made her look like my personal secretary, scolding her boss for slacking off. Wait, shouldn't it be the other way around?
Well, whatever.
For a moment, I wanted to act haughty and pompous to defend my right to a healthy sleep. Of course, I didn't. I only thought about it. After all, Luisa was right. I really had forgotten the promise. But why hadn't Mom reminded me?
"Fine..."
"Then it's a deal."
Under normal circumstances, I would have taken the opportunity to pinch her ears or cheeks and strip that smug mask off her face. But since I'd only just woken up, I didn't particularly feel like moving. Just being in her shadow was exhausting enough.
"Oh, Luisa, you're back already?"
As Mom walked past, I didn't miss the chance to settle the score. Not that shifting the blame onto Mom made much sense.
"Mom, why didn't you remind me to meet Luisa?"
"Hmm? Luisa asked me not to meet her today. Didn't she tell you?" Mom even tilted her head, which clearly meant everyone knew about it but me.
Honestly, it was a bit outrageous that Luisa had decided to take the long way around just to get what she wanted. Was it really so hard to just ask? Naturally, I wouldn't have agreed right away. But in the end, she was perfectly aware that I had never once managed to say no to her.
It seemed I really was a bit spineless.
"Anyway, get changed and come down for lunch."
Ignoring the atmosphere she'd just created, Mom simply left, leaving us to deal with the aftermath ourselves. And I remained lying in bed, staring at Luisa as if trying to bore a hole through her with my gaze.
Very soon, Luisa turned back to me. I noticed her ears starting to redden, and her smile turned shy. Then her skin took on a hue matching the petals of a Yasciris.
How nostalgic.
For a second, I felt like Luisa had become that timid girl again, the one who did all sorts of irrational things. School really did change people, after all.
"So you..."
"It's too late. We have a deal."
Though she said it, her voice sounded uncertain. But despite that, if you looked closely, a triumphant smile was visible on her face. In other words, I didn't see a single hint of her feeling guilty.
Little by little, Luisa managed to calm down. A faint blush remained on her cheeks, but her usual self-satisfied expression had returned.
Maybe she really was some kind of cyborg, with a toggle switch hidden somewhere on her body?
"And... is that it? Nothing else to say?"
"Hmm?"
What else did she want to hear from me? Had I forgotten something else? As much as I hated to admit it, my memory was far from the bottom of my list of weaknesses.
I huffed and turned my gaze to the ceiling. While I pondered what else to say, my hand instinctively reached for my hair, twirling the ends around my finger. And my legs, which I thought were stretched out, were now tucked at the knees.
"You know, I like this part of you. It's always fun to watch."
"Huh? Like? Which part? What?"
"The part where you desperately try to act serious, even though your cheeks give you away."
Even though she lowered her head, it didn't stop me from seeing her cheeks turn crimson. Honestly, at that moment, the Yasciris itself paled in comparison to her.
Though for the most part I was just teasing her, I really did like this trait of hers. Even setting aside her little tricks, she acted so straightforwardly—nothing bent or crooked about her. Well, only a little.
"I'm not being 'desperate' and... I'm not blushing."
"Oh, I see. Then maybe you should look in the mirror and say that again?"
Looking up at me from under her brow, Luisa's eyes wavered as if she were about to burst into tears. It was as if she'd gone too far and now realized there was no turning back.
It wasn't my plan to make Luisa suffer. But I couldn't resist getting a little revenge. Just a tiny bit.
Her forehead creased, and her hands clenched. The way Luisa's cheeks puffed out when her embarrassment turned to irritation was also adorable.
"You're unbearable."
"Well, maybe."
After this "dialogue" ended, Luisa started tugging at her shirt. Not taking it off, not unbuttoning it—tugging.
It was summer outside and likely hot. So it wasn't surprising that she was a bit sweaty. I thought she should have taken that into account and undressed like a normal person, but... apparently, I was wrong.
She was like a cat trying to squeeze its head through a narrow gap. Realizing she wasn't getting anywhere, she pulled her arms inside and tried to help herself free her head.
As amusing as the sight was, I soon grew bored of watching it.
"So, what else did you want to hear?"
With those words, I finally got out of bed, swinging my legs over the side. As I yawned, my stomach suddenly felt itchy. Sliding my hand under the hem of my T-shirt, I scratched it.
Luisa stopped and turned toward me. Probably. I couldn't actually see her face to say for sure.
Ending her struggle with the shirt, she poked her head back through the collar. Why did she do that? Nevertheless, she now looked like one of those animals I'd... well, seen somewhere. A Lelio, I think... No, that's not right. Who even is that?
Hm. Right. She was like a prairie dog poking its head out of a burrow. Luisa was clearly no longer holding back, conjuring more and more new images. Unconsciously, perhaps.
"Did I want something?"
Since trying to figure it out led nowhere, I decided to just drop it. If she was fine with it, I was even more so.
A few moments passed, after which Luisa started pulling her head back in. And... she failed. I didn't think she was wild enough to require a straitjacket. Но the way her head poked out of the collar while her arms flailed under the fabric—that's exactly what it looked like.
"I'm... stuck."
"I figured."
I wondered how Luisa behaved at school. The same way, perhaps? For some reason, the thought wasn't a pleasant one. Although it sounds strange, it would be better if she only acted like this with me. There was no real reason; I just wanted it—to know that there was something only you could see.
Perhaps, in a way, that would make me special. For some reason, the thought made my cheek itch.
Without asking any questions, I climbed out of bed and walked over to Luisa to help her with the buttons.
I wondered if she had any friends. She never told me about them. What could that mean?..