Ball of Yarn - 4

Sayuri and Asami walk down the winding street that leads back into town. Though Minoda is not big by any stretch of the word, it is nothing short of bustling, the market square teeming with people even with close of business just around the corner. Not that’s any surprise to Sayuri; everything outside the big cities operates in its own little time bubble. But away from all of that liveliness, the fresh fruit stalls, the trinket sellers, the food trucks and the buskers, there is nothing but peace and quiet. No cars drive up the road. The wind glides past pine needles and maple leaves. Beside the sidewalk, water trickles down a small, bumpy brook.

Sayuri is the first to break the silence. “So, is there anything you’d like to do?”

“I’m feeling a bit peckish, if I’m being honest. Could do with a bite to eat.”

“Sure thing, we could maybe try –”

Sayuri stops dead in her tracks. Where she tries to turn off of main street, steer them away from the town centre, Asami seems poised to carry on ahead, and cross right through the hubbub.

“Where are you going?” Asami asks. “Most of the restaurants should be this way.”

“True, but erm… there’s a lot of people out and about right now, you know?”

“So?”

“So…” Sayuri’s eyes trace an obvious slide down to Asami’s tail. “I figured you’d want to stay away from crowds.”

Though confused at first, realisation soon dawns on Asami’s face, only to melt into an apprehensive grimace. Her gaze falls on a random stone at her feet, ears flat against her hair. She clears her throat, yet her voice still warbles, uncertain. “Right. I’ve been pondering this for a while, and well –” she sighs “– I don’t think I’ll be able to hide from the world forever. So, I guess I wanted to try being out in the open on this trip. Just to see how it goes.”

“That’s – that’s great!” Sayuri flashes an uneven smile. “But, are you absolutely sure about this? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for you trying to just be yourself, but you don’t have to force it or anything. This was meant to be us catching a break, remember?”

“I mean… I’m not gonna get anywhere if I don’t get out of my comfort zone, am I? But don’t worry, I’ve thought this through. It helps a lot that I’m not gonna see anyone here ever again. It’s almost like a one-time experiment, you feel me? Besides,” Asami's tone falters to a stuttered mumble, “i-it’s so much easier if I go through with it having you by my side.”

Sayuri feels her heart pounding against her chest so loud that she can almost hear it, a constant thrumming in her ears, behind her eyes, on the tip of her tongue. And if she can hear it, then Asami might be able to as well; and if she blushes as a result, then it’s only normal that Asami blushes as well. But through the red suffusing her face, Sayuri manages to crack a grin so bright that the sun pales alongside it. Though she’s never anticipated how difficult it would be to try and speak through it.

“O-okay, then: l-let’s go.”

If it only looked busy from afar, Sayuri and Asami find the market abuzz: old men trying to strike a bargain, merchants shouting out their wares, children chasing each other, tripping up passerby. But though everything and everywhere is loud, there’s a certain tranquillity floating in the air. There are no strangers out on the streets, only friends, neighbours and acquaintances, the hum of cosy chatter like a bassline to the square’s symphony.

And there’s so much to do, the choice is almost paralysing, at least in Sayuri. Asami doesn’t have a problem letting her keen nose lead them to an ayu stand, her mouth watering at just the scent of the grilled fish. They wash the salty crust down with ice cream from the adjacent shop, the lady at the counter raising an eyebrow at the order of one mint chocolate, and one cat-friendly lolly. Then, it’s window-shopping: there’s kitsch knick-knacks, handmade crafts, old jewellery, Asami’s eyes aglow with their gleam. It’s only once they pass by an artisan’s atelier that they finally stop and step inside. Ten minutes later, they step outside, a heavy tote bag weighing on Asami’s shoulder.

“Do you want me to help carry some of that?” Sayuri offers.

“No, this is mine, mine I tell ya! Mitts off.” Asami playfully hisses. “Though jokes aside, yes, please. I’m gonna get scoliosis if I carry this all the way back.”

“Okay, let me have… the paints. They’re all in their own bag anyway. Now, where do you wanna go next?”

“Oh, I think we’ve checked out everything I was even remotely interested in. Do you have anything you wanna go to?”

“Erm…” Plenty of things cross Sayuri’s mind: a used bookstore tucked away on a side alley, the manga shop by the bus stop, the spice stalls next to the town hall. But she doesn’t want to bore, or worse overwhelm Asami. Plenty of times, Sayuri’s seen her covering her nose as they passed by pavement cafes and perfume vendors, their pleasant fragrance repugnant to her. And there’s nothing heavier than old volumes, sweaty armpits and chilli peppers. “Not really.”

“… you spend a long time thinking for a ‘not really’.”

“Umm, don’t worry about it.” Sayuri dismissively waves her hand. “Why don’t we just go back to the hotel? All this walking around has really tuckered me out.”

“Sayuri.”

Sayuri snaps straighter. “Yeah?”

“You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”

The clock tower in the middle of the square rings for five and a half. Sayuri shuffles in place, one foot scratching the pavement behind the other. “How?”

“Well, you just confirmed, for one. And for two –” Asami flicks her ears “– these are not just for show, you know. And with how much time we’ve spent together, it’s not all that hard to figure out how you really feel, even when you’re struggling to hide it.”

“Sorry.”

“Apologise later. Let’s hear the truth first.”

Sayuri balls her fist. She’s not hesitating because she’s been caught red-handed, though that certainly doesn’t help, rather she just doesn’t like the truth all that much. Sure, it’s noble in a way, sacrificing her enjoyment for someone else’s sake. It rings even sweeter when she factors in how low Asami’s been feeling earlier, how she’s only trying to preserve that high. But similarly, she’s not blind to how it might all come across.

I’ll fall for them if only they give me attention. Asami’s words come back to her, blurry and distant. How many guys have gone along with her whims, only to earn her affection? How many have tried to manipulate her, by simply saying the right things at the right time? She said it herself, she’s an easy target. And even if she didn’t mean any of it like that, it still doesn’t feel right.

“I-I don’t know,” Sayuri mumbles. “It’s just – you were so out of sorts in the morning, and now you’re putting yourself out there, out in everyone’s sighs, and it’s all going so well. I guess I just didn’t wanna chance it.” Sayuri shrugs. “So many things can go wrong, and I didn’t wanna be one of them.”

Asami crosses her arms. Her gaze hardens for a moment, only to soften in the next. Still staring at the pavement tiles, Sayuri hears Asami padding closer, stopping but one pace away. Her hand reaches out, and when Sayuri lifts her chin to see what she’s aiming for, a sharp pain in the forehead gives her the answer.

“Ow! That hurts!”

“Yeah, it does, doesn’t it? But it seems to work when you do it, so might as well see what happens when the tables are turned.” Asami blows out a breath, half to fix her bangs, half to preface her lecture with a disappointed flair. “First of all, you’re vastly overthinking things. And it’s me saying this, so you know it’s an expert opinion. And second, I get that you mean well, but I don’t want you to act like I’m something you have to coddle. It just doesn’t feel authentic, you know? It’s like you’re doing it out of some kind of duty to protect me – and that’s just wrong.

“I like you –” Asami clears her throat. “I like spending time with you, Sayuri, but it’s only fun if we’re both enjoying it. It’s only fun sharing my interests, if I get to find out about yours as well. At the end of the day, I’m not looking for a knight in shining armour to shield me from the world; that’s dumb. I just – I just want a friend, nothing more and nothing less. And I want you to let me be your friend too.”

The air sticks in Sayuri’s lungs. Her hands feel numb, so do her cheeks and the tips of her nose. The humdrum of Minoda sounds pale and muffled, like a broken loudspeaker playing an incomprehensible tune. There’s something inside her chest, a snug tingling that expands into a flush covering her from head to toe, growing and overgrowing until her body doesn’t even know what to do with all of it.

So it just lets it overflow. It spills out in tears welling up in her eyes, in warm prickles budding under her skin that bloom into ecstatic fidgeting, in a swarm of butterflies flying through her stomach and up her throat, only to be released in short bursts of laughter. She realises now that all her life, she’s been chasing this feeling, an all-encompassing joy and relief. And she realises now why she’s found it right here, right now.

“Are you okay?” Asami’s voice falls on her ears like a sweet melody. “I didn’t go too far there, did I?”

“No, it’s fine,” Sayuri murmurs. “I feel the same way. I’ve always wanted a real friend, too.”