First Meeting (Part 1)

I gazed through the clear glass on my right, mentally blocking off the teacher's ramblings. Fluttering sakura leaves flew past my eyes. The sun’s blinding afternoon sun burned my retinas. With the vibrant colours of a typical spring day, the scenery before me was the essence of high school youth. It was worthy to be put on a picture frame and sold in an art gallery. However, this scene was not the focus of my attention.

A single sakura tree stood in the centre of the desolate courtyard. It flaunted its pink exterior against the greenery of the surrounding bushes. Although the beauty of the tree was a sight for sore eyes, my eyes were captured by a different subject.

A single boy, the same age as me, sat calmly on the oak bench opposite the tree. His eyes were locked on the sketchbook he held, so sharp that they could cut anyone around him. With smooth strokes, he deftly sketched the subject in front of him. The aura he exuded was not that of a high school student. It was that of a man confident in his craft. Nothing else mattered in the moment other than the sakura tree and his artwork.

Questions arose from the back of my mind. Why was he so focused when drawing? Why did he become an artist? What turn of events brought him to this current situation? Chains of thought formed a narrative link. At last, the bud of a story was beginning to form. After months of artist’s block, I finally found my piece.

I couldn't let this opportunity pass.

The screech of my chair on the floor pierced the tense aura of the classroom.

“Sensei! I need to pee at once! My bladder's gonna burst!” I shouted.

“Fine, Machida. Geez, a young girl should be more tactful.”

Ignoring his hurtful comment, I blitzed towards the corridor. Excitement was bubbling inside me. It felt like the frozen carcass of my brain was thawing. My feet were as light as a feather as I dashed down the stairs.

As I entered the courtyard, the scenery around me blurred. Only the young boy was clear.

Step. Step. Step.

I could finally make out his features. Although his uniform was nearly buttoned up with a navy blue blazer, his tie was crooked and not fastened to his collar. His complexion was pale, and his black hair was unkempt, covering his right eye. A general evaluation of someone like him would likely be that he is a weirdo or a creep. But to me, he looked dedicated. Someone willing to throw away everything for his passion. The perfect protagonist.

Even though I was just a step away from him, the boy refused to acknowledge my presence. Not that my appearance was flashy. I didn't dye or tie my shoulder-length hair or put on any accessories, and my skirt was exactly knee length. Even my uniform was just the normal attire, but with an oversized sweater exterior. But it was peculiar for an adolescent male to ignore a girl so obviously.

So I had to just announce my presence.

“You there!” I shouted while crossing my arms.

…

My call was met with silence. Time for attempt number two.

“Frizzy-haired high school boy currently sketching a tree!”

The boy finally placed his sketchbook down. He looked left, then right. After confirming his surroundings, he returned to his sketch.

The gall of this guy! How could he just ignore me shouting right in front of him!

“I'm talking to you, idiot! Stop ignoring me!”

Thud! I karate-chopped his head. If words weren't going to grab his attention, then my actions would at least (even if a little violence was needed).

The boy rubbed his head and finally looked my way. His crystal-like cyan eyes pierced my heart immediately. No matter how hard I tried to look away, I was drawn towards the two jewels staring back at me.

“My god, you're annoying. What do you want?” The boy didn't try to hide his contempt for me. His eyes sharpened into an expression of anger.

“I wanna make a deal with you.”

I put my hand out.

“A deal? What could you want with me?” Anger had simmered down to confusion.

My outstretched hand closed, leaving only my index finger resting between his eyes. A soft gust blew behind me, surrounding the two of us with cherry blossoms. I took a deep breath.

“Be the protagonist of my story!”

“...”

My heartfelt request was met with pindrop silence. Only the breath of the wind provided accompaniment. While my finger remained on his forehead, the young boy’s mouth was left agape. All light from his eyes had dissipated. It was as though my words stabbed him in the heart.

“Erm… Earth to Frizzy?” I called out to the corpse in front of me.

“Scary.”

“Huh? Scary?” That wasn't the reaction I was expecting.

“Of course I'd be scared! Who says something like that to a teenage boy! You sounded like a host club owner!”

In hindsight, he was right.

The boy zipped behind the bench, keeping a safe distance between us. His hostility meter was maxed out.

“Wait. Wait. I didn't mean it like that. Let me explain–”

Before I could finish, I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. However, the soft contact was ice cold. The warm embrace of spring was replaced with an ice-cold blizzard. Fear enveloped my body, chilling my spine. I slowly turned my head around, anticipating the worst.

“Quite a lengthy and loud bathroom break, Ms Machida.”

Mr Watanabe, the teacher of the class I bunked, towered behind me. His bald head and pristine glasses blinded my eyes. A chilling smile was plastered over his wrinkled face. It took all my energy to reply with nervous laughter and a wry smile.

“What a surprise, Sensei! Did you need to go to the bathroom too?”

“In my office. Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

I could visualise a tombstone being erected in the graveyard with my name etched on it already. Before we left, Mr Watanabe looked past me towards Frizzy. Although his eyes were stern with me, Mr Watanabe looked more fatigued when his eyes met Frizzy’s.

“That includes you, too, Miyagawa. You can't keep doing this.”

With no retort, Frizzy obediently moved away from the bench and followed us towards the staffroom.

Thus began a story of ups and downs that all started with a cherry blossom. This is the story of how I met the love of my life and how we achieved our dreams.