Aomori: [Start]

The time was around five-thirty when I left the orphanage on my own to Naebo Cemetery. I always visited after a morning therapy session and never missed a year because I hadn't other plans, until today. Technically this place wasn't opened yet, but I stepped inside anyways since there wasn't a gate or fence around the perimeter. Walking under dim lamp posts at every corner and intersection, I made my way to the northwest corner to an illuminated tombstone with my parents' name.

I placed a bouquet of orange flowers into an embedded stone vase and used the cemetery's water to fill it up, then left an offering of green and brown matcha cans acquired from a nearby vending machine. I put my hands together and took one last look at the cold engraved names on the solid block of concrete before closing my eyes and commencing my dirge.

My upcoming thoughts are directed to my parents.

Mom, Dad, it's my birthday again, and also the sixth anniversary of your death.

I want to apologize for two things, I'm sorry for breakin' tradition by doin' this way earlier than usual, and I'm also sorry because I'm goin' to start with a blue topic. For once in this new life, I feel grief. I mourn the empty hole in my heart that used to be filled by you two. This was supposed to be another mundane visit, but I've remembered a lot in the past few months and relearned a thing or two about you that caused me to connect with you.

It's all because of a girl who's similar to me. I'm sure you'd love to meet her, she's a girl whose caused me to actually feel emotions. She's the reason I'm visitin' you now and not later, because I have a birthday event planned. I want to see a smile on her face, a smile formed because of me and the circumstances only we share. I'm still new to this 'emotion' thing, but I'm sure there's something I feel only around her, do you know the feeling?

With all the recent events, I feel like I need you to guide me towards the direction that will cause the least damage to the people around me. If you can't do that, if I have to go on this path on my own, then I hope you'll still be behind me in case I fall backwards.

Y'know, I used to be eager to reunite with you. I didn't take my own life in your honor, but I also never found a reason to live in it either. But now I do, so you'll have to wait a lot longer than I anticipated… Through pure coincidence, I've found someone worth livin' for now, and it's her seventeenth birthday too.

I regarded "Souvenirs of Apples" as a narrative. From what I knew about her family's history and her disinclination for her future, I understood her videos as if she was writing letters to a pen-pal, though the recipient was unclear. Her clear passion for them made me believe she wasn't random with what she recorded but had certain rules.

She didn't record every single day of her life, nor everything she saw. It seemed like she gathered an hour's worth of content and probably edited them into fifteen-to-twenty-minute videos. A unique or close-to-heart encounter needed to happen for her to pull her camera out, which made me think about that moment in Maruyama park.

I wonder how things would be and if we would've gotten along if I never discovered it that day—it was chance after all.

I knew I showed up in her videos a few times, though I never got to see how I looked. There was no need for me to actually watch them anyways, it was just a wandering thought. I was probably absent in the grand scale of it, only potentially making appearances since the peer outings started. Although, I knew I would add another appearance today.

After returning from the cemetery, I reunited with Ringomori outside the orphanage.

"Happy birthday, Chamaru-chan," she said.
She wore an oversize deep red windbreaker with a forest green hood, blue jeans, and her fur-trimmed high-top sneakers.

"Happy birthday to you too, Ringomori. It's been one year since we met, since our first similar union."

"Yep...s-s-since our first re-re-reunion," she muddled. She shivered from head to toe despite also wearing earmuffs and fuzzy mittens.

"Did you get some sleep last night, or are you not used to bein' up this early?"

"Staying up late and being up early is normal for me, but to actually be outside in Sapporo's freezing cold autumn is a new experience. It's unfair that you can."

I myself wasn't showing much weakness to the chills, mainly because I had been wearing a plain black hoodie with my RONselia windbreaker over it and warm cargo pants; I even allowed the cold a chance by not wearing a shirt underneath. She waddled all the way from the orphanage to the train station.

The station was a bit desolate, but it'd likely soon fill beyond capacity once the corporate workforce arrived. We waited on a bench inside and she took a quick snooze with her arms wrapped around her bag until our train for Hakodate arrived at the platform.

As aforementioned before, the train journey would be almost four hours long. Ringomori sat in the window seat with the mutual agreement that I'd get it on the way back; she fell asleep almost instantly after departure. The JR Hokuto Line ran along the coast of Hokkaido from the cities of Tomakomai to Mori.

Scanning the reposeful mountains nearby and in the distance nearly put me to sleep with the serene atmosphere. I managed to fight off the urges to snooze long enough to see the sunrise above the crystalline of the strait. The horizon glistened like a myriad of pearls. The best part was she was also in my view, silhouetted by the rising light from behind her.

I grabbed her camera from her beige bag on the floor and used it to record the sunrise with her restful face at the edge of the picture.
She'll probably not know about this until after the trip.

The ambiance of the empty train and verdant landscape eventually put me to sleep for the latter half of the journey. My dreams consisted of a continuation of my train journey and seeing that both in reality and in a place used for comfort made me realize that our current adventure was the best scenario experienced by me up to this point in my life. Further proven when I was awoken to Ringomori's gentle call of my name when were near our stop in Hakodate. It was only now, accentuated by my dream, that I accepted the fact that we were genuinely going on a trip together, alone, not simply for some peer outing rule, but for our personal enjoyment.

The person I was mere months ago would have never believed that I'd be in a situation nearly as exciting or daring as this.
Heh, I wonder what situations the person I will be in the future will think I won't believe now. Hopefully it's more unforgettable memories.

As we stepped off the station's platform, I turned to Ringomori and asked, "Are you ready?"

She nodded.
"Let's do our best to make our birthday better than any before."

In contrast to Sapporo station's early morning barrenness, the peak morning rush hour of Hakodate saw this station absolutely packed with people. Due to my height, I became the leader and guided the shorter Ringomori through a meandering path to the exit. From there, we'd have to head to the ferry terminal, by bus, which was another fifteen minutes.

The bus navigated through the port of the city, the strait was to our left and the calm yet ever so bustling city was to our right. Though it was only a small peek, we got to see a part of a place that had a similar vibe to another city we'd always known but was also unique in its features—such as the Ferry terminal. We saw some of the colossal white and blue ferries on the berth. The names of the ships were written in white Katakana characters, "Blue Dolphin" and "Blue Mermaid." The ships that were currently en-route were the "Blue Luminous" and "Blue Happiness." We were able to confirm our reservation on time and without trouble due to the automated machines at the kiosk; we'd be boarding the "Blue Mermaid" ferry.

As we waited for the boarding gate to open, we browsed some of the shops and restaurants inside. We hadn't had breakfast yet and my stomach in particular was growling, so we agreed to eat a light breakfast since we also wanted to eat on the ferry. I got chicken and rice and she ordered grilled squid with rice; trust me, the servings were small. When we finished, the boarding gate announced its opening and we made our way down the tunnel to the ferry.

The entrance hall was similar to a hotel's main lobby, except this was swaying ever so slightly. Other guests were sitting in chairs and watching weather news on the wall-mounted TVs while kids gleefully played video games on the floor-embedded interactive tables.

We purchased the "View Seat" class for the ferry, which was a class lower than a room suite but above the standard ticket. As the name suggested, it granted us access to an area with a greater view of the strait. The ferry disembarked the berth at the designated time of ten-twenty in the morning. The two of us decided to have a tour of the ship before heading to the open deck.

As we traversed the hallways, Ringomori said, "Look at the number of amenities on this ship. Vending machines with snacks and entire hot-and-ready bento boxes, small gift shops where we can buy ferry souvenirs, and look up ahead—the lounges have those tables and bookshelves with plenty to read."

I said, "The weather seems better than predicted for now, a storm might still roll in later, but hopefully it just passes overnight. Should we head up now just in case?"

She agreed, and we climbed the stairs outside. There were no chairs, but that didn't bother us. We leaned against the metal guardrail, looking down at the white-foamed water being parted by the ship's might. Ringomori took a deep breath with her eyes closed, then exhaled.

"Are you able to smell that? The fresh air? The salt water is surprisingly relaxing."

"Must be nice. Unfortunately, my sniffer still sucks, but I can't imagine salt water bein' that relaxing."

Instead of offering sympathy, she giggled and faced the water.
"All I can do is hope it gets better. Mayhaps it will during this trip."

"I hope so too."

She took a few quiet videos of the ferry's departure from the terminal and into the strait while I gave a mote of commentary about the saltwater air mixing with the chilled breeze to whisk my hair all over my face.

"Hey," I lightly tapped on her shoulder. "Can I record something for you too?"

"Oh?" she said with a head tilt. "Okay, sure. What will you record?"

She handed me the camera and I started to record the view just like she was doing, but then I panned the lens in her direction and she flushed pink and covered her face with her hands, but I wasn't pulling away. The main focus of my recording was her. Despite being caught off-guard; I was proud to see how quickly she recomposed herself and allowed me to capture her true emotions.

This better make it into the video.

She put the camera away once I was finished and we simply stared out into the strait without a need to talk. Our elbows nudged a few times due to the buoyancy, or maybe purposefully. I enjoyed it either way, and she seemingly did too, maybe even more than me.

It's funny, I thought. The real journey hasn't even started yet, but I already feel like I'm experiencin' more than enough happiness for a day. I'll have enough for months by the end of this.

I didn't question if I deserved it, just enjoyed the fact that I had it. At this moment, I was literally on the same boat as her, though slightly bigger than a canoe, and as I looked around her, she was the only person with me. No rivers of lava, but quite the opposite.

"Chamaru-chan, if there were chairs here, would you sit down and draw this view?"

"I wouldn't need a chair to draw a line across a piece of paper and color each side with different shades of blue. Maybe I'll try something else in the view seats, but I'll figure it out when we get there."

"Speaking of, can we head there now? It's starting to get a bit chilly out here, at least for me."

"Alrighty."

The view seats were a room consisting of two rows of reclining chairs with a relaxing view straight out over the ship's bow, which was out of view once one sat down. There wasn't much privacy between seats for different parties, but luckily the Japanese people were mostly considerate with each other—before and after the empire's reform.

We sat down in the front row and she took off her earmuffs and mittens, then covered herself with an ocean blue blanket that came with every seat. We enjoyed the view as much as we did in the open deck, just without the susurrous breeze. Her ulterior motive for wanting to come down was probably so she could fall asleep on the cushioned headrest.

She must've been really sleep-deprived from all her stress before if she's sleepin' this much. I'll have to make sure she goes to bed on time tonight.

Staring out of the window, I saw nature's two most luxurious shades of blue divided by the horizon, distinguished by the rising sun's enlivening accents. I took out my phone and placed it on the windowsill with the camera on. I set a timer for seven seconds and posed by looking at my lap where I had already taken out my notebook and pencil. Would I wake her up for the photo? Of course not.

The photo was taken, then I replaced my phone with her camera. I used it to record the two of us as she soundly slept in her seat while I leisurely drew the photo I'd taken. I would finish before she woke up, and she woke up just in time for the ferry to dock.

We arrived in Aomori.

We dismounted the ferry and entered the terminal, taking our first steps on Honshu island. The atmosphere of the new city was more or less the same as Hokkaido, just less snowy, but still lovely enough. We'd love to admire this uncharted land some more, but we were against the clock as we had another thirty-minute train to Hirosaki city—where the main event started.

The journey along the Ou Main Line was tranquil, similarly to the one to Hakodate. This time the both of us were awake to discover the new parts of the prefecture as the landscape glided past our window. On the outside we were quiet, but inside my mind I was debating whether to break our silence to ask a question of advice.

"Ringomori, do you do anything special regarding your memories?"

She turned her neck from the window.
"Special how?"

"Like, do they just float around in your head, or is there a way to organize them better?"

She closed her eyes, pondering my question and probably looking inside her head. Once she had an answer, she opened her eyes and put a finger to the side of her forehead.
"It's all about the place you store your memories. Imagining a place where all of your memories are kept is, I believe, the greatest way to always remember—imagine a sanctuary."

"Sanctuary? What's your place, your old family home?"

"Close," she said, returning her gaze back to the window.

I followed her eyes. On the other side of the train, just as we hoped, were acres of apple orchards and farms stretched over rich green hills. I shouldn't have been shocked that this was her answer. Shifting from the hills to her contour, I wanted to ask how she decided on it, but it seemed like she was currently at peace in the fields, so I put a pin in it for now.

I tried imagining my own sanctuary, hoping it would be something pleasant like hers, but despite the fun times I'd been having, I could only conjure all my little orbs of memories in my canoe inside my dual-toned hell.

Once we reached Hirosaki station, we took a special bus directly to the apple park with a quarter hour left until three. The park closed at six, but we weren't in any rush since it shouldn't take too long to see all the attractions.

Ringomori said, "I did a bit of studying on the park beforehand. It's mainly made up of orchards with over 2300 trees and eighty different varieties of apples. Their top attractions at their disposal are tours and hands-on experience with apple producing; harvesting and juice making."

Turning into the park, I pointed out to the right where a plethora of tents scattered the field. Ringomori said it was because we were coming during a festival period, where limited attractions were added into the park. We exited the bus and walked down a path to the entrance.

She said, "There's an apple farmhouse on the southern side of the park, it appears to be quite intriguing. Would you like to check it out?"
I agreed to everything she requested, which prompted her to ask, "Am...Am I being too pushy or obnoxious? You don't have to—"

"Not once have I ever thought that about you," I interrupted. "Don't worry about me, I'm just happy to see how excited you are about this."

We entered through a line of apple-shaped and colored gates down a path that led us to a red postbox with an apple model on top of it; these would constantly be seen throughout the park. For the sake of not wanting to repeat myself every time she'd do it: More often than not was Ringomori recording us and the scenery.

People coming out of the smaller orchard fields had baskets filled to the brim with apples. To our right was the massive festival with traditional music blasting beyond the wall of food trucks that were lined along the cardinal bricked path. An agreement was made to make that the last thing we saw today, as we walked up some stairs to our first attraction.

There was a famous bronze statue of a little girl using all her might to pick up a full basket of apples. Apparently this was one of Aomori's most famous statues, with its name being popular amongst tourists.

"Rinko-chan!" shouted Ringomori.

"Who?"

"This is the 'Apple Little Girl' statue. She's commonly referred to as 'Rinko-chan' because '-ko' and '-go' are the same kanji, and 'Ringo' means apple."

On either side of the statue were small red tricycles with a hollow apple as the front basket, kids were able to use them to traverse paths. She recorded the statue from head to toe and asked me to take a picture of her standing next to it. Behind her was a building with the sign displaying, Ringo no Ie—Apple House.

We entered the House, which was practically a grocery store, with apples only. The entrance had a miniature gift shop displaying an array of accessories and souvenirs related to the park. The interior was similar to the pie shop, in regards to wooden design, lighting, and the overall atmosphere. There was also an unexpected cameo that caused our eyes to widen and jaws to drop.

""RONselia?!""

To our amazement, the park's personal mascot had done a collaboration with RONselia back when they were a band and still sold merchandise such as small figurines, pins and pottery, and apple red clothing with the characters on it. A store clerk approached us and asked if we'd like some assistance. Not even ten minutes spent at this park and a few purchases were already made.

The Apple House's snacks consisted of apple-baked cookies, fruit sticks, jam, and juices; all mass produced by the park. Next to the store was a black and white tiled pathway that led to the real Apple House; a giant skeleton model of an apple hollowed out and filled with displays. We were able to browse all of the different varieties of apples they grew in their orchards. Ringomori skimmed most of them until she found her favorite.

"There it is...the Toki apple."
She approached the golden fruit and said, "Their harvesting month is October, but I hope there's still some late bloomers on the branches."

I found the shrewd and diligent Fuji apple.
"The staple of Japan, as grand as the mountain," I said.

Ringo brought her camera to the apple and said, "Here's some apple trivia, while many people think Fuji apples are named after Fuji Mountain, the truth is the name stems from Fujisaki—the Japanese town where they were developed."

"I don't know a single thing about this fruit. But hey, more education here than on the school trip."

Further down was a sign that read "Grasswork" in English lettering, but due to how the Japanese pronounce and use Katakana for foreign words, it was meant to say "Glasswork" instead. Under the sign was an area containing wall-embedded displays of the same apples as before but made of opaque multi-colored stemware pieces; I didn't understand art, but nevertheless, it was fascinating.

Adjacent to the Glasswork was a miniature library with storybooks and apple recipes. Popular works such as, "Ten Apples Up On Top" and "Secrets of the Apple Tree" were amongst those advertised with many copies already bought. There were also various inflatable tube figures of RONselia and other idol bands scattered around the House.

Near the exit was a cafe counter that offered delicacies such as apple sundaes and curry, soft-serve, and cider for adults. We elected not to order just yet and save it for later.

Similar to "Rinko-chan" at the entrance, the exit had another memorial statue that read "Town of Friendship Monument" on the plinth.

"Let's go south," she requested. "There is a picnic and park area with facilities like a playground and tables. It's a very popular site for families."

"Seems like it should be the last place people like us should visit."

We strolled over to the site and confirmed the popularity of the park. Parents sat on benches overlooking the central playground, a few even helping their little kids up the stairs and catching them at the bottom of slides. I looked over to Ringomori, she didn't record the event with her camera, but was probably strolling through her orchard of memories to find a similar experience. Her and the apple of her eye must have done this.

I couldn't reminisce the same, but I could make a memory now to look back on. Whatever my sanctuary may be, I knew one of the orbs I could plant in it would be this one. Looking at her, my Buddha in hell, as she saw kids and parents laughing and playing together.

We continued through the site to get to the next attraction. There was an abundance of colorful flower bushes and weeds—wearing vibrant colors like yellow and orange—along either side of the concrete and dirt paths. I knew they were not spring flowers, but fall and summer flowers.

We arrived at one of three designated fields where people could pick apples; the "Ornamental Apple Orchard." There was a staff member at the entrance who proffered us two woven baskets, but we settled for one. They led us to the first row of the orchard and told us we were free to tour the trees and harvest any apples we desired. Luckily for us, there weren't many others on this path at the same time.

We passed a tree holding branches of yellow apples and I asked, "Are these Toki apples?"

"No," she replied, "these are Kiou apples. They're a late variety in harvest, being ripe in late October. They can sometimes be light green in color and are sweeter in taste than a Toki."
On the opposite side of the path, she pointed at a reddish pink apple.
"This is a Sun Fuji apple. Super-sweet and crisp, they go well with a honey component."

As we continued, I carried the basket and sauntered behind her while she alternated between recording the apples and enjoying the stroll to the fullest, her gait was gleeful. The ground was littered with apples, which signified they were ready to be eaten, and some trees had plaques with people's names engraved on the front. She confirmed a Toki tree, picked a few ripe apples, and placed them in the basket; they'd be the only variety we'd harvest. I would also be told a fact or two about each new apple variant we'd walk past. To be able to unerringly remember something like that required passion and dedication, her love for apples was deeply rooted.

I saw a tree with an apple hanging lower than the others and wanted to pick it, but it seemed a little rotten. Believing the rest of the tree suffered the same fate, I was going to let it be, but then she stopped me.

"This apple's gone bad, Ringomori. I'll just pick from another tree."

"Wait, while this fruit is indeed not ideal," she brushed her finger along the branch, "if you follow this upwards, you'll see another apple hidden inside that's just perfect. See."

Above the low-hanging fruit was a brighter, more solid version of the rotting apple, which was apparently called Ōrin. She wasn't able to pick it herself because it was too high for her, so I did it. I analyzed it and it indeed seemed like the best one we'd pick thus far.

Taking a bite and scrunching my face, I said, "This is definitely as sweet as you said. Wow."

She returned her gaze to the tree.
"I would love to have my own orchard."

"Really? You'd like to do all the menial work in between harvests?"

She shook her head.
"I don't believe this is drudgery work, but pleasurable."

A staff member further ahead approached us and asked if we needed any help. With Ringomori as my expert guide, I told him we were okay and having a great time.
Upon saying that, he said, "This orchard's actually the least visited one of the three. It's too far for people to come all this way, especially when festivals are on."

Ringomori and I glanced at each other and the corners of our lips raised. Once again, we were similarly unique to the masses.

The worker asked, "If you two want, you can take those apples and turn 'em into cider. Your reward for that is getting fermented, alcoholic ones. It's good stuff."

The legal drinking age was twenty, so we weren't legally allowed to enter the cider building even if we wanted to. I figured that the worker assumed we looked older than we really were. Not revealing our age, Ringomori denied the offer.

"Very well, customers. Allow me to offer you guys something else then. Would you two like to plant a tree into the orchard? It would have a plaque with the name of the apple variant of your choice, along with your names underneath it. You get to claim ownership of a tree!"

Our answer was equal, we were taken to the top of the orchard where a few holes were already bored into the dirt with a line of black soiled pots. We selected a Toki seed and a few workers planted a pot into the ground. We were given the honor of returning the dirt into the hole until it was filled. We then had to complete a form with our names and a plaque would be erected soon.

That was the moment our presence was solidified in Aomori.

Our several apples were poured from the basket into a scale, and the workers helped pick out the best seven to be placed into a large plastic bag. I offered to carry the bag for the rest of the journey and Ringomori carried the Apple House bag containing our purchases. After leaving the orchard, we headed to the third attraction—the Old Farmhouse.

To eschew detection from people passing by, Ringomori spoke to her camera at a considerably low volume. With me being next to her, I was able to still hear what she said.

"Harvesting those apples was lovely! It reminded me of the times we used to do it at home. I hope that tree is still producing apples."

For the entire trip thus far, she wasn't wearing a mask of false happiness. Instead of depressive deception, true emotions of bliss were sowed into everything she said. I wondered if she realized that herself.

The former farmer's house wasn't large in terms of structure, made up of the typical tatami and wooden planks that many Edo period houses were built with. We had to take off our shoes and use customary sandals to enter inside. She didn't record this part out of respect to the other parties peacefully taking in the ancient architecture and farming equipment. The house in its entirety was impressively preserved, though there were periodic renovations made, and the walls sealed the interior from the modern noise of the festival.

We toured the building at our pace, soaking in the detailed art of Edo-period noblewoman and folklore painted on the shoji walls and doors. Glass cases with old farming equipment and plaques described what and how each tool was used. From a porch on the east side of the building was an open view of the undulating meadows further down the hill, and a large mountain to the west. At the exit, we bowed with respect and equipped our shoes to leave.

Ringomori said, "That house is enriched in history. Sometimes I wish I could live in a house like that, at least for a year."

"With all the open land in Hokkaido, I'm sure you can build something like that without a problem."

"True. That's something worth spending a lot of money for. I can see myself doing that around a decade or two from now, granted I need a good paying job to acquire all the money."

"It's all about the long run."

We traveled to the southeast corner of the park to another orchard called the Waikaringo—Dwarfed Apples. A phalanx of attendants roamed the paths picking apples off the branches, but since we already had our harvest, we decided not to join in and move on to the next attraction. Before getting there, we passed by a lonesome tree atop a hill titled, "Newton's Apple Tree."

"Is that referrin' to Isaac Newton?" I asked.

"Oh, indeed it is. The Flower of Kent is a pear-shaped apple type, quite poor in quality by today's standards, which is believed to be the apple that assisted Newton's discovery of gravity."

"Ah, some bonus apple trivia? The name is kind of confusin' me though, but still, it's cool that they planted one here for him."

Everything she said was facsimile on the memorial tablet before the tree, and she requested a picture with it. She treated these things like celebrities, which many might not quite understand, but I found it rather adorable because there weren't many people that would choose to idolize pieces of nature to humans.

"Walking through all those attractions without breaks has tired my legs."

"We pretty much covered everything in an hour and a half, but yeah, we should've stopped from time to time."

"Can we go up here? It's a lot to climb but I know we can take a break here."

On the way to the final attraction, we took a diversion up a stone staircase to the Suribachi Observation Hill. The higher we got, the more the breeze picked up, but that didn't take away from the magnificent view the top of the hill provided. The vantage point allowed us to see the park in its entirety, from the entrance to the Ornamental orchard and all the way back to the Flower of Kent tree. The leafless, yet fruitful branches of the orchards were an unflattering sight to many, but it was also the sight of autumn nearing its end.

Another vantage seen at the top of the hill was Iwaki Mountain—far northwest of the park. One could use the several coin-operated binoculars to see the peak of the mountain. At this time of year, the mountain hadn't any snow, but that made the coruscating grass that coated from peak to toe, accentuated by the wholly blue sky, all the more awe-inspiring. With time on our hands, we decided to rest on a bench and appreciate our surroundings.

She took one of the Toki apples from the plastic bag and brought out a little knife she kept inside her bag. Accustomed to the cold, I took off my RONselia windbreaker and allowed her to use it as a serviette for her bunny-cut apples. As she did that, I replicated the view of Iwaki Mountain onto paper, and was fed the bunnies.

I have a lot of mundane drawings in this notebook, but recently there's been a lot of special ones too. This one though, it has to be a new level of special. A drawing of Aomori is something I never thought I'd treasure.

Near the turn of five in the evening, we concluded our break and walked down the path on the other side of the hill that led to our final attraction. The Fureai Square was a green piece of land at the center of the apple park, and also the venue for the ongoing festival.

The Apple Harvest Festival was annually held for a couple of days in early November since it was just past the peak of harvesting season in the ripening autumn with still plenty to be picked. Along with harvesting, the park held a myriad of events that got people involved in other apple-infused activities.

The activities were sectioned in pop-up booths similar to summer festivals I had seen in D4Dream's event stories, but never in real life. The first booth that caught the eye and lens of Ringomori was wreath-making.

Like a child wanting to visit a theme park, she asked, "Can we go? Can we? Can we?"

With Christmas climbing to the top of the tree, I said, "Might as well get our practice in early."

"Yay~!"

A few workers taught us—and a few other attendants—how to make and decorate wreaths of multiple sizes using natural apple branches. We opted for smaller sizes and decorated them with fallen tree leaves and flower petals.

"What colors will you choose, Chamaru-chan? I'm going for red and green."

"Yellow is definitely callin' to me; I might just go for green too."

"Copycat."

"Hey, I'm the one with the eyes for it."

It was safe to assume I did horrendously in comparison to her. Despite my genuine, but poor effort, I was still entertained by her investment in this activity.
She's so different when it comes to this. Homework, studyin', even readin' doesn't get her this excited. Maybe she's like this when she bakes, but why? I guess it's because of the connection this has with her parents…and the apple of her eye.

"What do we do with them now?" I asked.

She grabbed a tablet from the booth and scrolled through it.
"It says if we want to take them home with us, we can purchase a box to keep them from breaking. Should we do that? If we leave them here, they'll hang it up around the park."

"Let's take them," I suggested. "Since we got small ones, they should fit in one box, and we can stuff it inside the shop's bag. It'll be our own souvenir."

She nodded her head and chirped, "Okay~!" Then ordered the box.

A few booths over was another activity that piqued our interests. We had our personal souvenirs, but still needed something for a few people back home. There was a candle making course being taught, and we participated.

The instructors gave us the liberty to select a color and smell we wanted the candles to be, then they'd melted the requested wax in the shapes of apples. We were handed tools to emboss whatever design we wanted.

"Who are you buying for?" she asked.

"This vanilla one is for Akio-kun, though there's a high possibility he'll never use it. He's from Tokyo, so I want to carve Fuji Mountain on this side. I also got this scent called 'Autumn Vibrancy' for his mom, but really it's for CLARIS. She loves stuff like this. What about you?"

"These are for the Shizuko family. Shizuko-sensei will get this citrus orange, Itō-sensei will get cherry blossom petals, and Etsuko-chan will get this cinnamon scented one, but I want to carve something special for her."

We fixed our candles for about ten minutes, paying the bill for all the candles, which was generously cheap. It wasn't easy stuffing all of them inside our bags, so we decided to buy another bag and rearrange our load. Either it was in particular or the entire park as a whole, but an aroma of apple pie so strong that it was even detected by my nose caused my stomach to grumble.

Perusing more booths to find one that offered food, we spectated people taking part in competitions such as apple quizzes and pie-eating contests, the latter only whetting my appetite more, and apparently Ringomori's too. We arrived at the wall of food trucks in the northeast part of Fureai Square. 

Menus posted on fliers and signs of different trucks offered apple brûlée, candy apples, apple cotton candy, a collection of apple pies using the apples from the park, and more of the sort. While our sweet tooths were begging for one of the aforementioned, our minds knew our stomachs wanted something more fulfilling.

Ringomori ordered yakisoba from one truck and I partook from a small bowl of Takoyaki balls. We sat at a table designated for dining and ate while taking in our surroundings once more.

There was an ethereal smile painted on her face.
"It's still unbelievable that we really decided to do something like this, and it worked out. Who would've guessed we had this sort of mischievousness inside of us?"
She took a bite of her food.

"Yeah, we're real rebels," I said. "They're goin' to kill us when we get back."

She chuckled, placing her hand over her shoulder as she leaned in for another bite. I knew she was happy. She was in seventh heaven, elated with an amount of euphoria I suspected she never had before. Years must have gone by since she expressed delight like this. The sky was still clear and cloudless even as the sun was ready to depart, a sight rarely seen in Sapporo. All around the world, the same sky looked so different.

"This is definitely the best birthday I've had since the accident, maybe even my whole life—by far."

"Sounding rather confident there, I'm sure you've had some birthdays that were just as nice. However, where does last year's birthday rank amongst them all?" she asked.

"Well, I spent most of the day at the cemetery, the whole family tree stump was there too. It was like any other birthday; except I'd moved to a new place. At the time, I didn't think much of it, but of course now I realize how special that day has become. It's when my life with you started, and we've developed quite the bond in the last year."

I had thought my answer would continue expanding her smile, but she looked rather crestfallen by it.

I attempted to reassure her that things were better now, to which she said, "No...that's not… It's okay, thank you, Chamaru-chan."

A brief moment of silence struck our table in the middle of a blaring festival. Our gaze shifted to the sun that aligned with the mountain peaks, like a scoop of ice cream in a melon soda. We finished our meals and that prompted me to check the time on my phone.

"Ah, the park's goin' to close soon, Ringomori. We should get goin' now if we want to beat the foot traffic to the buses."

"Wait, we still have to return to the Apple House to get dessert."

We quickly bought our dairy desires in the form of mint-chocolate and cinnamon cones and rushed to the exit to catch the latest bus to Hirosaki station. We sat in the back and rearranged our backpacks so that mine carried my notebook and pen, both wreaths, and my two candles, and Ringomori's bag carried her personal belongings, our Apple House purchases, her candles, and the tightly sealed plastic bag containing our apples.

Our next activity was to find a retail store to purchase a couple of shirts or other clothing accessories that represented Aomori. However, on the way there, we received an alert that planted some worries. A typhoon that originated in the Kanto region migrated north to the east of Tohoku, where Aomori was located.

It was projected to come across the strait, affecting the northern cities.

Hirosaki was southwest of Aomori City, where the storm was projected to severely hit. While not likely to be hit as bad, it was still guaranteed to pour here, and what worried us the most was the unknown probability of the ferries being operational when we needed to leave. Nevertheless, we found there to be zero point in worrying over the natural course of the storm and tried to enjoy our short stroll through the city.

We passed several parks that were unlike the ones back in Sapporo, mainly because their trees looked different.

Ringomori said, "The trees here are better cared for and nurtured than most places. The apple farmers apply their harvesting techniques and encourage the clusters of buds to achieve their maximum beauties and longevity. It'd be much more noticeable if we came during spring, but even nearing winter, the virescent leaves are able to maintain the beauty of the park."

Maybe we would have stayed longer if we had visited during the peak blossom season, but after a one-hour stroll we entered the shopping district and found a store suiting our clothing desires. During that time, it began sprinkling over the city. News about a coming rainstorm hitting the northernmost cities of the prefecture persuaded us to leave for the hotel earlier than expected.

It was ten minutes after seven. The clouds that were once absent grew darker and put a cold lid over the city. We were walking along the city's sidewalks near the hotel.

"Awh, I doubt we'll be able to get any more food for the rest of the night. I was hoping to make some late-night meals for us."

"That's a shame. All we can do is buy bentos before places start closin' down."

"Wait!" Ringomori ordered, coming to a full stop. "Counteroffer, we get the bento dinners like you said, but what if I also bake something for us later? I can use the hotel kitchen to bake a dessert from the apples we picked. Can we do that for old times' sake?"

I thought about it, I've been wantin' to try her baking again, and it sounds like she wants to get back into the swing of it. If she believes she can do it, then why deny her?

I said, "That sounds good. While you start that, I can check us into our rooms and heat up the bentos."

Leading the charge, we entered a nearby grocery store and quickly bought our dinner and some additional ingredients she needed for her recipe. Then we hurried over as fast as we could to the hotel. Upon entering, we saw very few people in the lobby and walked over to the kitchen room behind the concierge.

"Okay," I said, "give me all your non-cookin' bags so I can take them up to your room—"

"Hold on, Chamaru-chan."

I looked up to her eyes which were pointed at the kitchen and followed with mine. The kitchen was packed with people, both the counters and the dining tables almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Every stove and oven were already heating a pot or pan. Maybe our idea wasn't so original, as everyone else also wanted a self-made dinner during the storm.

Ringomori's gaze fell to the bag of ingredients she tightly held in her hands. Her excitement to bake clouded our situational awareness, leaving us stumped. I was at a loss of what we should do, but in lieu of sulking like she'd done in the past, she pulled out her phone with an overzealous face and began walking outside the hotel. I followed behind confused, but knew not to disturb her yet.

The winds picked up and the darkness only grew with the passing minutes. The only light sources were lampposts at every intersection, and I assumed they'd only disappear too when the rainfall arrived. She stopped in her tracks and I leaned over to see what she'd been looking at; it was directions to a location.

"There's a family-owned bakery neighboring the hotel. I...I'd have to ask to use their kitchen...and they're likely to say no...because I'm not persuasive enough...to ask if I could borrow it for baking."

For a second time, her enthusiasm had sullied. She reverted to her reserved self by simply thinking of a burdensome task. I had a decision to make. If she didn't bake now, she'd have the opportunity back at the orphanage, but knowing we'd be punished for this trip, we might not have the privilege of continuing our old hobbies, at least not for a while. She was eager to use her favorite apples, and I was agog to see what she'd bake with them.

After a moment of thought, I said, "I'll do it. I'll ask the family. You won't have to worry about doin' it."

On the darkening night, the sidewalk where we stood had illuminated in one singular spot. Not because of lampposts, but because her reinvigorated smile had returned. We rushed to the family bakery; the raindrops became heavier.

The bakery was small, no bigger than the size of Hara's pie shop. It was nearly half past seven, which was the time most places closed their businesses. There still wasn't a flood warning issued in the city, but many had already gone home and off the streets. We entered the bakery and we were the only two customers here.

"Oi, welcome to our bakery!" hollered a female worker. "How can I help ye'two?"
She seemed a little over our age, which benefited us.
"I'm gon' close up shop soon, so be quick with what ye'want."

Ringomori shyly stood by the door while lightly swinging the grocery bag in a pendulum motion. I took a deep breath and first stared at the floor as I approached the counter, then lifted my eyes to meet the worker.

Clasping my hands before me and failing to keep my fingers steady, I said, "H-Hey, um, we're not actually here to b-buy anything. B-But we're willin' to pay for a-another one of your services."

"Eh?"
The worker held her head with her palm and planted her elbow on the countertop. She flickered between me and Ringomori, and a strange smile appeared.
"Ehh, I see how it is. Ye'want me, a girl, to join you and another girl tonight."

I was dazed and she could tell. My head slowly tilted left as the gears inside halted to a grinding stop. I tried to make sense of how she came to a conclusion like that, but she saved me from an aneurysm by laughing hysterically like a hyena.

"I'm just joking around," she said with a slight playful smile. "What're ye'tryna do?"

The reason she could joke around like that was because she saw herself as socially superior to me and took charge of the conversation. I took her second question as an opportunity to make a better, more effective impression and requested her eyes.

"I was curious to see if y-you and your family would allow my f-friend to borrow your kitchen to b-bake a quick dessert."

She was understandably confused, repeating my entreaty aloud trying to make sense of it. I steeled my resolve, because it was also Ringomori's, and demanded her eyes.

"Due to the incoming storm, the guest kitchen at our hotel is completely packed with people and my friend wants to bake something for us to share. It'd probably take forever until she could get her turn, so we came here. I know our request is outlandish and selfish, but she's well experienced with bakin'; more than any other seventeen-year-old girl you may know."

She didn't answer straight away.
"Say, ye'two ain’t from here, huh? Your vernacular is wild."

Our is wild? I thought.
"We're from Hokkaido, and we came here to celebrate our joint birthdays. One of the main reasons I'm askin' you to let her bake is because that and apples are two of the things she loves the most."

She looked past me to Ringomori.
"That girl seems cowardice to me, ye'sure she can bake? Doesn't seem like someone who has confidence in doing anything."

My left eye sort of twitched upon hearing that, but I didn't falter my tone.
"Well, you've simply not been lucky enough to see her true self yet."

The worker stared at me as I awaited an answer. If she had more questions, I had the answers waiting, if she had more assumptions, I'd tell her I knew the true reality.

She said, "Ye'introduced her as your friend, is that all y'all really are? To celebrate your birthdays by going to another prefecture and staying the night at a hotel doesn't really seem like a friend thing to do."

A hotness steamed to the surface of my face. My head naturally dropped to see the displays of pies and other pastries inside the counter and avoid eye contact while I recuperated. There was no definitive answer to that question, not at that moment.
"Decision's pendin' right now," I said.

"Haha, you're funny. Anyways, introduce me to her, I'll let her use my kitchen."

I raised my head with widened eyes.

"My parents ain't home and you've made me real curious about her."

I said "Really?!" aloud and must have caught Ringomori's attention. Turning around, she had already waddled a few steps and I motioned my hand to call her over to deliver the great news.

I took the grocery bag and placed it on the counter and the worker took it into the kitchen. I asked Ringomori to hand over her personal bag and she gave it to me.
"Follow her to the kitchen, she'll show you around."

She was excited yet confused.
"Wait, where are you going?"

"I'm goin' to check in at the hotel while you bake here."

"You're...leaving?"
She seemed nervous, likely because she didn't want to be alone.

"Yeah, but just to make sure everything is fine at the hotel, then I'll pick you up afterwards. Call me if something happens, I'll sprint over right away."

A small grin appeared.
"Okay, you better."

"And if you get murdered before I make it, I'll have no choice but to steal Tsukki-chan from your schoolbag."

She chuckled, then placed her hands over her chest. Although hesitant to agree, just like how I had to rise to the challenge of requesting permission, she rose to her own challenge and agreed.
"Be careful, okay? Don't join the parents."

"You too. Don't join the parents."

The worker came back out and said, "What's the hold up? I wanna see ye'bake!"

"Sorry...for the...hold up."

Ringomori timidly stepped behind the counter and through the door to the back of the bakery.

Before the worker could follow, I called out to her.
"Take care of her," I said.

I left the bakery and went to the hotel.