To Wish Upon

“Happy Birthday!”

Hanako sat with the small yet pristine cake in front of her, her two parents standing by her side, their warm expressions illuminated by the candlelight. She managed a smile as Taguchi, the housemaid that had been with her before she could remember, snapped a photo of the family.

“You’ve grown up so beautifully, Hanako.” Taguchi remarks, blinking away the tears that had begun to well up. “I remember when you were just a little girl and you brought all your friends over for your 7th birthday. You all frolicked around the penthouse and made such a mess! But seeing your smiling face was well worth all the extra hassle.”

“Haha, yeah I remember that.” She forced out with an awkward smile. She remembered clearly how the parents of such friends looked at her like she was some sort of golden goose, and later on how her “friends” would do the same. A couple years after the aforementioned 7th birthday party, she would stop having parties entirely.

“Come on, lighten up a bit! It’s the first time we’ve celebrated your birthday since you’ve gone off to college.” Her mother exclaimed while embracing her.

“I cleared the entire evening for tonight, the least you can do is be a bit more excited.” Her father chuckled, patting both his family members on the shoulder before going to get the knife.

Hanako cracked an actual smile as she turned to gaze at the back of her father. Yamamura Hoshino, to anybody else would be a figure of myth, the wealthiest man in Japan, yet to Hanako, the arched back, graying hairs, chiseled face wearing an expression of such sincerity and kindness, and wrinkled outstretched handing her a knife could only be those of her father.

“Make sure to cut me a big slice! Ooh, and get one of those strawberries on top.” her mom remarked, backing away to let the girl cut freely. Takura Aika, the nation’s idol singer and commonly named the most beautiful woman in the country in addition to dominating every music platform and radio station, leaned over the table with gleaming amber eyes and shiny black hair draped to the side as her daughter dutifully cut the cake into four slices, ensuring one of the slices had more strawberries, eliciting a squeal from her mother.

It wasn’t often the family was able to all meet together, with Yamamura having to attend to many meetings and manage his company, while Takura was often called to train new up-and-comers or to big hoity-toity galas and parties as a performer. Especially now that Hanako had gone off to college, the house was more often than not empty besides Taguchi the maid. Yet every time they did come together, all pretenses were cast aside as they lived as a normal happy family.

Ring ring ring!

Or so it was supposed to be.

“Mhm. Yeah. Okay, I understand. We’ll be there in a bit. No no, it’s alright. Alright, see you there.” Her father puts down the phone with a sigh. “I’m so sorry, me and your mother have to leave for a bit. One of our performers called in sick, and I’m your mother’s only manager right now. Ahhh, I’m so sorry we had to cut your birthday celebration short, but we’ll be back later tonight. Don’t hate us,” he pleaded to the three shocked women in front of him.

Takura was the first to move with a sense of begrudging urgency, kissing her daughter on the head apologetically before rushing to get ready.

“It’s fine, I understand.” Hanako said with a half-cocked smile as she watched her parents once again rush out the door into the outside world, into the place where they had to be stars.

A silence fell across the room as maid and master sat across from each other, the balloons and birthday message on the cake almost seeming hollow now.

“You know, they were talking about and planning for this day for weeks now. It’s just rotten luck they were called out like that. Don’t hold it against them.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sighed, messing around with the slice on her plate. It was true, she knew in her heart of hearts it was just an unfortunate situation and nobody wished any harm, yet a writhing pit weighed in her stomach all the same.

Is it selfish of me to feel this way? They had a perfectly valid reason to leave, yet here I am being all mopey about it. I don’t know.

She suddenly stood up and walked towards the door, leaving the half-eaten slice of cake and Taguchi at the table as she grabbed a beige coat, black beret, and a white mask before heading outside with a halfhearted “going out” tossed over her shoulder.

“Stay safe” was the only thing she heard back.

In her first year of college, one of the greatest lessons Hanako had learned was that when you begin to overthink everything, a bit of sunlight and asphalt under your feet does wonders to the mind. As she walked, she found herself taking a familiar path through one of the nearby neighborhoods, one she hadn’t gone through since going to college.

Hanako had always enjoyed looking at the sky, and although the pit in her stomach still churned and her mind still rolled in on itself, the orange hues streaming across the sky as the sun ended its daily journey through the clouds gave her a sense of comfort and-

Hold on, what is that?

From one of the houses, the sound of a piano drifted through the windows, stopping the contemplative girl dead in her tracks.

It was a waltz, but it wasn’t like other waltzes she’d heard, and being the child of a musician, she’d heard waltzes. But this one, the hypnotizing rhythm of the bass thumping as the melody danced and soared through the setting spring sky, this one was special. As if being controlled, Hanako listened, breath bated and head rocking from side to side, as the world around her seemed to dance along in a captivating 1 2 3 1 2 3, as colors popped like her surroundings were a coloring book, as life itself condensed to her and the piano player, sharing a special and secret moment together.

And then, just as quickly as it began, the final note rang, and Hanako awoke from her trance.

…Wow. That was beautiful.

That thought dominated her headspace as she stumbled back into her walk, going the rest of the way in a trance, her steps mimicking the tempo of the piece that had captured her and left her wanting.

Slowly, however, another thought surfaced: I really want to meet that person.

And whether it was the disappointment from earlier, the sheer majesty of the music that engrossed her, or the inhibition of judgement that seems to follow those into the night, Hanako made the resolve, right there under the emerging stars, that she would meet this mysterious pianist under any circumstances.