Ch.2 – EP13 Harajuku Date?

The Takeshita Exit in front of Harajuku Station always feels like a little festival.

On the Saturday before summer vacation, July sunlight shattered on people’s shoulders, and the air was full of cotton-candy and ice-cream sweetness.

Momoko had been scouting since the twelve o’clock hour. The right side of the crêpe stand line moves faster; if you walk on the left side of Takeshita Street you’re less likely to get snagged by the flow; make sure Sweets Paradise (an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet chain) is properly reserved by asking the staff directly—etc., etc. Perfect.

Imitating Sora, she didn’t look at her wristwatch. She kept four beats in her head. 1, 2, 3, 4.

The meetup time was 13:11. It was supposed to match his “pulse”… probably. He said he liked the number 11. His reason was “because breathing changes,” which she loved. Didn’t make sense, though lol

“…13:11.”

He was there under the Takeshita Gate arch.

And, with him, a trio of girls hitting on him.

“Hey, you’re cute. By yourself?”

“Wanna come sing karaoke with us?”

“Give us your LINE or Whatsapp!”

He was letting “Uh,” “No,” “Well,” float in front of his mouth like bubbles.

Momoko’s expression changed.

O nie, mój chłopak jest miękki jak wata cukrowa! (Hold up—why is my boy as squishy as cotton candy!)

She fired Polish at the three girls.

“Słuchajcie, jeśli dotkniecie mojego rycerza, zamatuję was!” (Listen up—if you lay a finger on my knight, I’ll checkmate you!)

Momoko walked up to Sora quickly, took his hand, and held it.

“—We’re going, Sora.”

Just like that she let the current of Takeshita Street pull them along, dragging him in tow. The girl trio laughed “Ah, uh?” waved, and quickly moved on to their next target.

“Why are you letting yourself get picked up? You’re treating me to Sweets Para today!”

“I wasn’t late…”

“No. Your treat.”

“…Okay…”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Today’s Momoko wore a casual white cami, denim shorts, flip-flops on her feet. Her hair was in a high ponytail with tiny amber earrings. Like she just flew back from overseas? Yeah, she was leaning into that. It’s a date? after all.

Momoko stopped suddenly and spun around. Hands on hips, big grin.

“Well? How do I look today? ”

He froze for a single second, then answered honestly.

“Yeah—you look like someone else… cute.”

“Correct!”

Her mood reset in a second.

“Oh, about the semester finals.”

Walking, she said, “I did great in math. Thanks to you, Sora.”

“I taught by reading the math pulse. The mountains hit.”

“What is that, pulse is insanely useful! Should I convert and become a believer too?”

“It’s not a religion.”

“I know. But music, chess, and math—they’ve actually got the same face, right? They’re all connected by pulse.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

Takeshita Street was a glitter flood. Hair accessories, neon, poppy signs.

“Wszystko się błyszczy.” (Everything’s sparkling.)

Momoko murmured to herself in Polish.

Sora, for his part, froze in front of the crêpe stand’s menu.

“‘Angel and Devil Crêpe’… what?”

“Hehe, which one do you want?”

“Does anyone actually want the Devil Crêpe?”

“It’s fine, we have a reservation.”

“…You reserved crêpes?”

“Sweets Paradise. It’s time—let’s go to the land of sweets!”

____________________________________________________________________________________

The Sweets Para counter staff were brisk, like immigration officers of a sugary nation.

She gave the reservation name, and the staff smiled, “Right this way—.”

Two plates on a tray. Cake, jelly, pudding, parfeit fixings. A line at the chocolate fountain. The curry’s steam smelled quietly amazing.

Back at the table, Sora had lined up a shortcake and a mille crêpe in a neat square. Momoko had a mountain.

“I told you I learned chess from Elena in Gdańsk, Poland, right?”

Sora paused his spoon and assumed a listening posture. He’s good at listening.

“Gdańsk is in the north of Poland. A pretty port town on the Baltic Sea. But it was too calm, or—how to say… For me, chess was the only fun.”

“…Yeah.” (His eyes said: you could just eat instead of talk.) But she wanted to talk now.

“Sensei(my master) Elena—your grandmother—was super strict.”

She rescued the strawberry off the shortcake and popped it into her mouth.

“When she taught me Emotional Gambits, I cried for real.”

She laughed. Back then, it wasn’t funny.

“But when I said I was going to Japan, Sensei cried. ‘I’ll miss you, but go,’ she said. Seeing her cry was cheating.”

Sora’s fingers unconsciously tapped four beats on the table. He nodded silently.

“And there was always a girl next to me—Aleksandra. My rival. But in U10 and U12, I always ended up winning.”

As she spoke, Momoko felt a wave rise in her chest. A small homesick swell.

“Ugh, I’m getting a little homesick. I miss Poland…”

Sora said nothing. But his eyes were kind, as if they understood everything.

(Eyes that say, This girl has been fighting too.)

Seeing that peeled one layer of her bravado.

“…Sweet.” Momoko speared a cheesecake with her fork. “But strong.”

“Which is?”

“Me. And the cake.”

“What is that, lol.”

They both laughed.

“Second plate.”

“Bon voyage.”

Sora cheated with curry and came right back. “Sweet place, but curry.”

“Life is like that.”

“Sweet, but—”

“Spicy.”

The curry of the land of sweets was, properly, seriously spicy.

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The later half of Harajuku: vintage clothing shops.

(Harajuku is wild. Color, shape, nationality, era—everything stewed together. My exact taste.)

“Sora, you’re surprisingly handsome, so punk might suit you!”

She pressed a studded bracelet to his wrist.

“I’m fine with normal…”

“‘Normal’ is the hardest. Look—it suits you.”

The two of them in the mirror. Hands almost but not quite touching.

“Hehe, this is kinda date-like, isn’t it?”

“…”

Sora turned red to his ears. Cute.

“How many times in does it start counting as a date?”

“Głuptas (idiot).”

After saying it, the back of her hand brushed his, just a little. Their four beats match. 1, 2, 3, 4.

Then a few more times, they deliberately kept an almost-touching distance. Every time their strides synced, she nearly laughed.

“All this walking made me hungry. Wanna go into a café?”

“After Sweets Para—you can still eat…?”

“Sure. There’s always room for sweets. Oh, that café looks nice…”

Just as Momoko started to say that—

—right then—

Polish suddenly flew at them from behind.

》 “Zawsze taka beztroska, co nie, Monika?”
》 (Still carefree as ever, aren’t you, Monika?)

Her spine jerked stiff.

She slowly turned around.

Long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes. Like dropping a chip of ice, the air cooled once.

“…No way—Aleksandra?”