Chapter 1: 1 – Spring Pinks, Spring Lights

April is shaded in pinks. The fluttering petals of cherry blossoms in the air and their eventual crushed remains on the pavement. The bending and swaying of tulips in the scented breeze. Clusters of moss phlox on the ground like little pink stars. Plum blossoms too, unfurling into pretty pops of color right when the snow’s melting away, showing spring had finally arrived. So, one could expect the minor disappointment Kumagai Hanami felt when looking at her school’s new uniform without a speck of pink upon it. Although she had known how it would look, seeing it hang up in her closet and other older girls wearing it on the streets, she couldn’t help but feel a bit down when seeing the uniform.

 

It was black with white lines on the collar and sleeve edges, a black knee-length pleated skirt, and a white scarf tie. Not a pop of color to be seen apart from the white stripes, and that was barely anything to work with. With such a lack of spring, Hanami could only make up for it with her accessories. Her right pinky finger was painted in glossy light pink and her lips in a similar gloss, a pink teddy bear charm for her school bag, and a cherry blossom phone case. There would undoubtedly be a similar switch for summer, autumn, and winter, as there always had been.

 

“Papa, are you ready to head out? We need to get to the school in time for the entrance ceremony.” Hanami removed her attention from the wall mirror in the apartment and popped her head into her father’s bedroom, watching as the man sat in bed struggling to knot his tie, a white one with cherry blossom print upon it. There were also various ties strewn about the room, messily thrown away after they refused to bend to his whims.

 

Mr. Kumagai looked up guiltily from his spot, tie creased in ways that were not assisting his cause. “Sorry, sorry, you know how your old man is with ties and all. Can’t get the damn things straight.” He chuckled. “Care to give me a hand?”

 

Hanami puffed out a sigh with a bright smile on her face, taking the tie from his hands and starting on untangling it from the mess he had made. “For your next birthday, I’m buying you clip-ons.”

 

“Eh? But that’d be so uncool, how could I show my face in front of the other parents if I had to wear a clip-on tie?”

 

“Isn’t it more uncool to need your daughter to do it for you?”

 

“It’s bonding, bonding! What’s cooler than the strong bond between father and child?”

 

“Decent topiary, according to you.”

 

Mr. Kumagai’s face went blank for a moment as his stylish (tacky) tie was properly knotted and tucked securely beneath his collar, eyes the color of sage narrowing as he processed what his daughter had said.

 

“I lost you in a topiary garden one time and I apologized with ice cream!”

“Because you were looking at the shrubbery and abandoned me!”

 

“It was in the shape of a koi fish, you could see the texture of scales in it, it was fucking exemplary! You left me on a bench by myself for half an hour last month anyway, I think we’re plenty even.”

 

“They had posted the first and final drafts of the garden blueprints and I wanted to look at them! You’re a grown man anyway, you could’ve called me.”

 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t. Because it was a well-built bench. I only wear ties for special occasions anyway, I don’t need clip-ons.” Mr. Kumagai let out a pouty huff, Hanami rolling her eyes at him affectionately and pushing over his wheelchair.

 

“Alright, Mr. Mumbles, whatever you say.” She picked him up from under his legs and made sure to tuck his arm around his neck before safely moving him into his portable throne. “Let me guess, the dark brown leather loafers today?”

 

“How’d you know?”

 

“They’re the only nice pair of shoes you own.”

 

“That is a false statement, and you will be hearing from my lawyer in 2 to 3 business days.”

 

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“Guess we’re not getting breakfast at the bakery then. Can’t give them anything to build a case out of.”

 

“Wait, I’ll drop the charges if we get chocolate cornets.”

 

“That sounds like coercion, good sir. I will not be intimidated.”

 

“Hana~ Pleaaaaaaaaseeee?”

 

“... Alright, we’ll get chocolate cornets then.”

 

Mr. Kumagai pumped his arms up in a victory pose while hissing out something that sounded like “yisssss” while his daughter put on his shoes at the door of their apartment, the aforementioned loafers sliding onto his feet easily before placing them back on the rests of his chair. Hanami slipped on her own pair of oxfords and tapped the heels of them, left to right, against the floor.

 

““The Kumagais’ are escaping now.”“

 

And they were out the door.

 

———————

 

April was blinded in flashes. Photoshoots for magazines in front of almost every scene imaginable. Headshots for those looking to be models or for interview resumes. A never-ending barrage of clicks and lights and constant, almost mind-numbing, adjustment of positions and backgrounds and lenses. That had been expected for his summer internship at a photography studio and later part-time job, but at some point, faces had stopped smiling and started leering. The flash of a camera’s strobe had gone from exciting to disorienting. The finished product of a shoot leaves a sour taste in his mouth rather than a sweet one.

 

Something had shifted inside of Yasuda Asahi, although he still wasn’t quite sure what had changed.

 

Perhaps the people he photographed had gotten more insufferable over time, but he had helped take a baby girl’s 1st birthday photos and she had been an angel to work with strangely enough, so had her parents. Monotony maybe? No, every face he’d seen was interesting in some way, especially a customer who smiled somewhat as a horse would. It could be the gifted kid burnout he had heard about, having been taking portrait pictures that earned accolades since his elementary school days, but his pictures hadn’t gotten any worse, it was more like something was grinding against some unnamed part of his brain, something that wasn’t quite right. It was… annoying to say the least.

 

He’d tried other things to calm the grinding. Breathing exercises before shoots, yoga, meditation, and even a short break from photography to sort out his thoughts. Nothing had worked, the grinding having continued up until now. Laying on his stomach in the grass between a walking path of sakura trees, probably staining his new white uniform shirt in spotty pink. His black tie might have the petals sticking to it. So will his hair and hands and pretty much every other part of him with how the wind is blowing the branches about, but he couldn’t care much about that as he adjusted his phone’s camera. He would’ve gotten out his actual camera if it weren’t for the fact he would spend much longer with it. Technically speaking, he was already behind schedule. Extremely so.

 

Asahi wasn’t sure what it was about the pathway that had caught his attention all of a sudden. He’d walked it plenty of times and never been struck with inspiration like this. Maybe it was because he didn’t actually really want to go to his school’s entrance ceremony, maybe it was the way the sun was filtering through the trees like spotlights on a stage, maybe it was the strange peace of the moment. The grinding had finally stopped as he positioned his phone just right, zoomed out just enough, and prepared to take a photo. The shot was perfect.

 

Until it wasn’t.

 

Right when his finger had pressed the shutter-release button, the wind had picked up all of a sudden, blowing petals everywhere and particularly right in front of the lens. Not to mention the sudden rush of a duo passing by at top speed, going in and out of frame, and Asahi’s line of sight as fast as he could blink. He was once again met with silence and the dread of looking at his camera roll. Asahi allowed a mournful groan to escape from the deepest recesses of his soul as he stood up again, running his free hand through his dark hair in an attempt to get rid of at least some of the petals and avoid biting the bullet that was looking into the presumably ruined photo he had just taken.

 

“Dammit…”

 

The grinding in his head returned as he began his walk of shame to school, shutting off his phone for the day without deciding to see what he’d captured.

 

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