On Something To Which I Do Not Fully Understand

Flowers hung above her and around her. Curtains of blooms lined the walls of the cafe, keeping the outside world a mystery for a moment as scents of blossoms and nectar floated through the quiet space. A handful of others were still there, even though it was late. Nervous taps from her shoe heel sent quiet pops through the air, but she didn’t notice. Above her, cables were holding dozens of plants of varying lengths.

Healthy leaves hung in trelaces, their vibrant green calming her nervous system a little more with every minute. Wisteria draped over edges and covered walls in shades of purple. Beside her, small ceramic vases held freshly cut tulips. Everything was vibrant yet soft.

She’d always loved this flower cafe, and even though it was a connection and a few stops away from the chaos of Kabukicho, this was where she wanted to meet him.

So she had texted him the address and an offer to bow out, just in case he’d changed his mind by the time his appointment had ended. But he held to his word, and an hour after she’d arrived alone, he responded, saying he was on the way.

Parking took longer than expected, and he found himself nervous as he tried to find an available spot. Trains would have been easier, but he was too well-known to easily navigate such public spaces anymore. A simple connection always carried the threat of devolving into a screaming horde of fans.

Eventually, he found parking a few streets away. He texted her once more that he was walking the remaining distance and apologized that it was taking longer than he’d hoped. Flutters of nerves mixed with the warming Spring air. As he walked, he opened his phone and searched for how to translate a specific saying into Japanese sign language.

A moment later, the door to the late-night flower cafe opened, and he was there. Another rush of excitement flooded through her body as she saw him scanning the room for her. When he found her, an honest, vulnerable smile pulled across his lips, pushing his cheeks up and causing his eyes to narrow.

Forgotten muscle tenses caused her mouth to also shift itself into the long-dormant expression of happiness, and Kaho sincerely smiled for the first time in a very long time.

She was flanked by blooms and enveloped in green. Every detail of her felt welcoming. Her nails were copper. He’d never seen her in actual makeup before. His hands raised, and he repeated the motions he’d just studied, hoping he did them correctly.

His hand raised to his face, fingers together, slightly curved. She watched. His hand started on the right side of his face before serenely sweeping across his features, then pushing outward. Blushing redness drenched her face as she realized what he had said.

As he approached, she started to type. Her hands were trembling. His hand appeared, holding out his own phone for once.

“Beautiful. That’s what I was trying to say. I wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”

Kaho had hoped there was no more blood left to move to her face, but the warmth in her skin told her otherwise.

“That’s not fair,” she replied.

“But so are you…” she added.

He read her response as he sat down. For the moment, he didn’t want to say anything else. He simply wanted to look at her. So he set his phone on the table top, letting his palms rest on the surface.

Seconds passed with the urgency of a tree growing. He saw a few young women snapping photos of him in failed secrecy. She felt eyes on her back. Neither cared. All they cared about was that blip in time that only they were experiencing. Neither needed to say anything else for the moment. There would be time for questions and answers. But it suddenly didn’t matter.

So her hand instead decided to also lower her phone, then slowly extend towards his. He didn’t move, and her palm settled on the back of his left hand.

A silent understanding moved across the sensory feedback of their skin as their hands laid atop one another.

Finally, she dared to part from his touch to type.

“I’m so happy I got to see you again,” she texted.

His phone buzzed, and he read her message.

“Me too. This is a beautiful cafe. Thank you for letting me see this place.”

She smirked.

“Were you signing to tell me I’m beautiful, or this place?”

“You. Just you.”

Purple petals complemented her sweater and hair. Beans were being ground in the background. Scents of tea leaves steaming hung in the air. A half-finished cup of oolong waited beside her. His suit looked nice against his complexion. Blue fabric tensed over his shoulders as he shifted his chair to lean closer to her. Even though his face barely changed, he was smiling.

Shuhei broke their gaze long enough to reach into their jacket chest pocket and retrieve a small, well-worn leather notebook and tiny pen. Patina scratches bent as he quickly wrote a note down, then closed the book and returned it to its hideaway.

Kaho watched and typed.

“What was that?” she asked.

“If you don’t mind sharing…” she added, fearing she’d overstepped.

Shuhei almost blushed as he sheepishly retrieved the notebook once more and handed it to her. His fingers flipped the pages to reach a specific point, but before then, Kaho caught glimpses of notes and locations. Seeing them made her feel a pull of something akin to envy. As though realizing the misunderstanding, Shuhei paused and flipped back to reveal the contents.

“This is my coffee shop and jazz bar list,” he typed.

“Sorry. I don’t know why I felt jealous. I thought it was girls. That’s none of my business.”

“Just coffee and jazz. And now flowers. I write down flowers I want to try to use.”

Kaho smiled and looked at him to give him a thumbs-up before typing.

“You’re still doing ikebana?! That’s wonderful! I was actually looking for schools and galleries when I saw your club today.”

He smiled again and also held up an approving thumb. She noticed his eyes were more vibrant now.

“That’s great to hear. I’m really happy for you.”

Crisp pages turned under her fingers as she scanned his writings. Randomly scribbled names of flowers and trees were mixed in with notes such as ‘tall on the left side with something simple at the base that holds a single plum’ and ‘three tulips in the living room vase’.

His script was sharp and efficient. Each character started with a heavier push, before thinning at its end. Lines of words followed the edges of the paper in intentional parallels. Some girls beside them were trying to sneak photos of him as their hands covered their mouths. He and she both noticed, but neither cared.

He tensed when she flipped back a few pages, and she realized why.

“Kaho” was written at the top.

Seeing her name written caused her brow to turn upwards as her mouth opened slightly. A new fluttering moved through her chest and stomach. Nervousness caused him to shift in his seat, and he wanted to explain, but he stopped himself as she continued to read while allowing her index finger to graze along his words.

“Three branches of flowering dogwood - three months. White. Pale.

Sweet pea and lilac. Delicate.

Plum branch without leaves. Time Gone.

Stillness. Distance. A fading moment.”

They were close now. Reality was nothing more than a lump in her throat and a pulse in his scarred wrist. Sound faded for him as time left her behind. Both of them were alone in the ruins of an unfamiliar realm, with nothing but faint torches to guide their steps. Her hair hung forward once more. Words hung in his lips but never materialized.

Eternity broke its pact with oblivion and the world returned.

Kaho inhaled as sadness crashed against a newfound melancholy.

“I don’t want to say goodbye again…” she typed.

Faint exhales of laughter escaped from his nostrils as he agreed with a nod.

“Neither do I…” he replied.

Suddenly, Kaho’s phone started to buzz with messages. It was midnight, and she still wasn’t home. She knew who was calling without even seeing the contact name screaming “Mother” at her. Shuhei saw it and understood the moment was over.

“Can I drive you home?” he typed.

She looked up to him and nodded.

He never ordered a drink. She never finished hers. They departed for the parking spot without another word. Once they were away from the blushing girls and yellow lights of the cafe, Kaho dared to touch him once more.

As his arm gently swayed in cadence with his steps, her hand reached for his. When he felt the touch of her fingers on his palm, the sway calmed, and his fingers wrapped through hers.

Minutes later, they reached the place where he had left his car. Kaho chuckled to herself when she saw the large, immaculate vehicle waiting.

“A Century, wow! We had one growing up!” she typed.

Shuhei smiled at her knowledge and realized she must have truly come from an important or affluent family.

“It was my dream car. I don't often spend money on things for myself, but this was something I always wanted,” he replied as they neared the massive sedan.

“It even has the curtains!” Kaho typed with excitement.

She didn’t even notice him opening the door for her.

When she reached down, his hand was already there. He was close once more, yet still so distant. Her hand hesitated, then slowly pushed the door shut.

Their gaze met for one final sign of approval. His eyes felt somber yet safe. Hers felt desirous yet cautious.

Kaho had never been this direct, but something was pulling her to him, and she didn’t want to stop it. When he didn’t look away or step back, she decided that was his consent.

He was tall. Tall enough that she needed to get as close to him as possible, and still stand on the balls of her feet. Faint hints of the club’s scent lingered on his jacket. Her hand was gentle and trembling as it steadied itself on his chest. All of her cheek fit in his palm as he held the side of her face and slowly bent down.

At the last moment, they both closed their eyes.

Lips connected, and silence enveloped them both as all the world faded into stillness around the two wandering souls that were holding one another beneath a golden streetlamp.