Taking a Tumble

Asuka has made a trip to two more clover fields, pouring over them in hopes of searching for a single one with four leaves. Around three hours have passed since witnessing the man who knocked her to the ground get arrested by police who were chasing him for a crime he seems to have committed.

The sun begins to set, worried about losing light, Asuka proceeds to her destination. The last place around Asuka is aware that has enough clovers to yield a four-leaf is about a mile out of town. She remembers following her brother and his friends around when they were all children, catching bugs and fishing together. They were unusually nice to her for a group of little boys, but that might be because they all respected Kyo enough to not act like territorial dogs.

Asuka’s trail of memories leads her to the mouth of a bridge. Her fingers clenched in her pockets, remembering what she tried to do the last time she came here. But beyond this bridge was the place she needed to go, so she steels herself and places her foot onto the freezing concrete.

The ocean the bridge was built over sounds almost as raucous as it did that night. Drops of sweat begin to form on the side of her face despite the cold, but the strong winds dry it quickly. Trying not to look at the water, Asuka keeps a steady pace, unintentionally listening to the waves crash inside of her head. It starts to become unbearable, like it’s taunting her and before she realizes it, she’s running across the bridge until she reaches the other side.

She is heaving, chest expanding and constricting as she tries to catch her breath. She didn’t expect something like this to happen, but the intensity of that night dissected her with two sharp icicles and exposing her heart, beating like a drum. Proof that she was still alive but painfully reminding her of what she could have lost. It feels as though invisible walls are closing in on her. Just as she feels her vision blurry, something flits past her and steals her attention.

An orange butterfly with black tipped wings and white spots circled in front of her. She watched it dance until it landed right on the tip of her boot. Asuka raised her eyebrows in shock. Nothing like this had ever happened before. She was almost mesmerized by the novelty of it and remained still, afraid to scare it off.

Gently flapping its wings, the butterfly takes off once again and disappears until the nearby trees. Still looking after it, a thought finally came to her head. Why would a butterfly be flying around in February? She’s no bug expert, but she has no memory of ever encountering a butterfly before spring officially comes. She quirks her lip and dismisses it to be a result of global warming. At least it distracted her from what felt like an oncoming anxiety attack. She was not prone to these, but the past few months had been full of new experiences for her already.

Taking one more gulp of air, she collects herself and slowly looks behind her. She knows she’ll have to cross the bridge again if she wants to make it home, so the butterfly’s display was only able to provide her with brief comfort. Shaking her head, her hair tosses from side to side. Asuka turns the collar of her jacket up and advances forward.

Asuka absently observes her change in surroundings. She’s lived in this area for as long as she can remember, so it’s a mostly familiar sight, but she never gets tired of it. At this time-of-day children who stay late at school to participate in club activities are making their way back home in groups. She listens to their laughter as they pass by her, blithe and mirthful. Likewise, who she presumed to be the mother of a young child who is running several feet ahead of her is walking home with groceries in hand calls for him to not go too far from her. The town bustles with the energy of people who are winding down, preparing for nighttime so they can finally settle in from their long stressful days.

The riverbank Asuka is looking for is not far now, and it’s not long before she sees it coming into view. The grass hill leads down to a riverbank, The glow of the sunset reflects upon its waters. This is the spot she would often play with her friends, it wasn’t an unpopular spot by any means, though. There would often be fights among those who wanted a specific area to play in and competitions would be held for the best ones.

These competitions are how Kyo gained the respect of the other children at the time, and he was heralded as the leader. It was thanks to him that the other boys let her join their games without getting territorial because she was younger than them.

Asuka inches herself down the hill, careful not to trip and fall. Light from the river reflects into her eyes as the sun sets. She pulls her cap down to block out blinding shimmers until she reaches the bottom near the bank. Hyper-aware that she was quickly losing her only light source for the rest of the day, she knew she had to move fast. A bit of walking leads her to the direction of a patch of clovers and she immediately got to work.

She keeps at it for a long time, pushing aside small yellow flowers with her finger to observe each clover she spots. She is so absorbed in her task that she almost doesn’t notice someone tumbling down the hill of the embankment. She turned her head toward the crashing noise and saw a boy crumpled in a heap. She is almost frustrated by the sudden distraction but ultimately goes over to check on him.