Chasing Rainbows

Ichiro moved with hurried steps.

He wanted to get there as soon as possible, but he also didn’t want to make a scene as he hurried to his destination.

Skidding to a stop, he tried to calm his breath before sliding the classroom open. The room was eerie still when it was empty, bathed in the warm light of the orange setting sun.

His steps echoed as he walked towards his desk and pulled his backpack off its hanger. Shaking his head, he internally scolded himself for forgetting it before baseball practice. Turning towards the windows again to get another view of the skyline from his seat, he smiled at how pretty it looked as the light traced its way over the departing purple clouds.

But the pleasant feeling it brought was quickly lost as he turned to make his way out of the room. His eyes caught a slight movement in the corner by the far windowpane. Turning his head to see what it was, his stomach dropped when he realized who it was.

With one elbow resting on the window sill, Izumi propped her head up lazily gazing out towards the setting sun. Half lidded, her eyes scanned the horizon from their ground floor view.

A nervous feeling encroached him, causing him to awkwardly bring a hand to the back of his head and scratch it, unsure of what to do now. It seemed like she hadn’t noticed him yet. Her eyes remained glued out over the track team as they continued to run practice laps, jumping over hurdles gracefully as they competed against each other.

He felt awful about how things had gone during the remainder of the tour he gave. Not to say it started any better, but as he brought her around the school, Izumi occasionally found difficulty either keeping up with them on rough terrain or even getting caught on a door jamb or something similar.

Each time, Ichiro offered a helping hand to alleviate her problem, but in turn Izumi would either glare at him while she freed herself or all together ignored him. After a while, Hina and Takuya took up the role of tour leaders as Ichiro strolled along behind them, completely dejected.

Even their departure back to their classroom for the rest of their classes was awkward. When she thanked them, she conveniently left him out of her thanks to his two friends for showing her around. For the rest of classes, Ichiro would randomly feel the need to slam his forehead repeatedly against his desk each time he thought back to it instead of paying attention to his class work.

Luckily, he had ball practice to distract himself after school before he fell into a spiral of self-loathing. In fact, being able to practice at his full abilities with the rest of his team made him feel the best he had in a long time. But the feeling was fleeting as he saw Izumi there had brought that pit of despair back to his stomach.

Wincing hard at his own ineptitude, Ichiro couldn’t stop his feet as they moved on their own.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Without moving her head, Izumi cut her eyes at Ichiro, still dressed in his dirty ball uniform. Her brows delivered a blow to his ego as they flicked up just enough to see who it was.

“Forget your backpack?” was all she scoffed as she turned her eyes back out over the track. If words were a blade, Ichiro felt each one of them as they cut him.

He felt a rush of air involuntarily rush past his lips as he struggled to understand why he was still standing there. He could have left silently. He could have just let the air settle first, but he was in too deep now to turn back.

“Yeah, I did,” he shrugged his shoulder to show he had picked it up already. He hesitated a moment before continuing. “Sorry… about earlier, I-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Izumi cut him short, still not turning to look at him as she spoke. “It’s not your fault. I am used to it now.”

Frustration built inside Ichiro. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew he had messed up more than she was letting on. Turning his head away from her, he bit his lip in apprehension as he couldn’t find the words to say anymore.

Letting his shoulder sag, he moved his way back to the door to leave. But he couldn’t push himself over the threshold. Instead, he quickly found himself moving in the wrong direction.

“So, is this the surprise you had for me?” he asked after dropping his backpack at the doorway and made his way along the backside of the classroom, stopping by her side. “You joined my class just to ignore me?”

“No!” she responded forcefully, abruptly moving away from the window and swiveling her seat to face him directly. Her eyes burned with intensity as they locked onto his, but gradually softened as her hands reached for the hem of her skirt.“I wanted to show you my sailor uniform.” As she spoke, she lifted the skirt and swished it around, “Cute, isn’t it?”

Ichiro's face flushed red as his eyes fixed on her skirt. Not because he found her cute, but because she was unintentionally revealing things that the skirt was meant to conceal.

“Oh,” Izumi teased, still unaware of what Ichiro was seeing from his angle. “It seems to be working like a charm, huh?”

Ichiro walked away, one hand covering his eyes in embarrassment. Meanwhile, Izumi let out a frustrated “humph,” crossing her arms tightly over her chest. She then turned her wheelchair to face the window once again, gazing outside.

After reaching the spot where he had dropped his bookbag, Ichiro paused, his body motionless. Then, he turned once more and approached Izumi, standing by her side once again.

“You never told me what your goals are.” His voice echoed in the nearly empty classroom.

Izumi shifted her gaze from the window and rotated her wheelchair to face him once more. “You keep pressing on that. Do you truly want to know?” Ichiro felt something catch in his chest, a momentary pause that made his heart skip a beat. Suppressing his inner turmoil, he nodded silently, his eyes locked on Izumi.

She studied him with her deep, inky eyes for a brief moment before softening her gaze once again. Puckering her lips, she prepared to speak. However, she held that expression for what felt like several minutes, her face slowly reddening, as if wrestling with something uncomfortable.

Finally, she exhaled, her shoulders slumping forward and low. “I can't…”

“You can’t tell me?” Ichiro’s voice was tinged with disappointment.

“No,” she replied, tilting her head back and sighing in frustration. “I just… can't seem to say it out loud.”

Ichiro felt deflated, his spirit sinking as he nearly crumpled over. He accepted his defeat as gracefully as his frustration would allow, resigning himself to the outcome he had somehow expected from the start.

However, Izumi's eyes suddenly sparked with a vibrant brightness. She patted one clenched hand against the palm of the other and reached over her shoulder into her backpack. Pulling out a purple notebook with a pen stuck in the spiral, she swiftly flipped it open and uncapped the pen.

Placing the tip to the paper, she began scribbling rapidly. As she worked, Ichiro leaned over, attempting to catch a glimpse of what she was writing, but Izumi quickly moved her body to shield it from his view. After a few seconds, she looked up at Ichiro, her eyes defensively watching for his reaction. “Are you… ready?”

Ichiro suddenly felt apprehensive, but he gathered his resolve and nodded firmly. “I am.”

Taking a deep breath, Izumi held the notebook against her chest, preparing to reveal what she had written. In a sudden motion, she thrust the pages up to Ichiro's face, hiding her own behind the notebook.

Caught off guard by the swift movement, Ichiro took a moment to regain his senses before focusing on what she had written on the page. When his vision cleared, he saw the bold letters written on the top line of the page.

“I want to be a writer someday.”

Ichiro read those words several times, his gaze shifting back and forth across the page as he attempted to comprehend the depth of Izumi's trepidation. However, as he observed her small hands trembling while struggling to hold up the page, a wave of empathy washed over him. Softening his thoughts, he straightened his posture and began to rub the back of his head awkwardly, searching for the right words to say.

"I-uh-I'm not much of a reader. I don't know what to say to that.”

Izumi froze for a moment, slowly lowering the notebook. Her head hung low as it came back into view. “It's OK. I hear that a lot, really.”

Those words, spoken in that tone, landed heavily on Ichiro's soul. He couldn't explain why, but despite his uncertainty, he felt compelled to continue the conversation. “H-have you written anything yet?”

Leaning deeper into her chair than usual, Izumi shrugged as she turned her eyes out onto the track again. “Nothing yet.”

“Well, why not?” Ichiro asked earnestly.

His sudden enthusiasm caught Izumi off guard, her eyes widening. However, she calmed herself and mulled over the question before turning back towards him. “Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘write what you know’?”

Ichiro shook his head, wondering where she was leading the conversation.

“It's a common phrase given to writers. Most people take it as a warning not to delve into themes or ideas they have no knowledge of. But I have a different perspective on it,” Izumi explained, a smug look appearing on her face.

“And what is that?” Ichiro asked, genuinely interested.

Izumi's grin widened in response. “Surely, you've read some stories before, right? About people going to space, or visiting a magical castle, or even flying through the air on their own wings. None of the individuals who wrote these stories have actually done those things, right? But they have experienced looking up at the night sky, traveling to new places, or flying in an airplane. While not identical, these experiences are close enough for them to capture those feelings and translate them into words.”

“OK,” Ichiro took a moment to process the information. “But what does this have to do with you not writing?”

Letting out a deep sigh, Izumi hesitated for a prolonged moment and fumbled with her fingers. “I have been mostly bedridden for the past ten years. I have very few experiences of the world outside my hospital room. Whenever I try to write, I feel like I have nothing to say. It seemed like my dreams would never be within reach, until I finally got released from the hospital and had the opportunity to achieve a goal I always dreamed of.”

“What’s that?”

Her smile returned, revealing her back teeth as she responded, “Attend high school. Silly, isn't it?”

Ichiro studied the girl before him, assessing her carefully. “I don't believe anyone has silly goals. But is that your only dream?”

Izumi's eyes sparkled for a moment as she nodded eagerly. “No,” she answered paradoxically. “I have ideas of things I want to do that I could write about someday.”

“Such as?” Ichiro probed, eager to uncover Izumi's hidden desires. However, her response revealed her struggle to articulate her thoughts.

“I don't know what to say…” A shade of pink lit her cheeks, and she turned her eyes away and returned to playing with her fingers.

Sighing with a tinge of frustration, Ichiro felt his patience wearing thin. But then, a sudden idea flashed in his mind.

“Ok,” reaching over and placing the notebook and pen back on top of Izumi's lap. “Then write them down.”

For several seconds, Izumi stared intently at the blank page before her. Nervously, she reached out for the pen but hesitated. She glanced sideways, seeking some kind of reassurance from Ichiro, who nodded encouragingly toward the paper. With determination, she picked up the pen and sat motionless for a brief moment. Then, her fingers started to move, and she wrote “Go to high school” before crossing it out. She nodded silently to herself and continued writing with increasing vigor.

The initial entries on her list were simple and whimsical, evoking an involuntary half-smile from Ichiro as he read through them.

“Eat pancakes at a themed café.”

“Visit Golden-Gai at night.”

“Look out to the horizon from the top of Tokyo Tower.”

But as he reached the later entries, the ideas became increasingly unconventional and extreme, causing discomfort to spread across Ichiro's face.

“See the sunrise from the top of a mountain.”

“Bungee jump from a great height.”

“Crowd surf at a metal concert.”

Finally, she reached the end of the page, seemingly with just one last item left on her list.

“Walk down the a-”

Ichiro continued to watch the empty space on the sheet of paper, waiting to see how she would complete the sentence. However, the pen remained still, wavering above the paper but not making a mark. Quietly, he waited, his eyes fixed on the empty space. Then, a tear fell onto the paper, soaking into the page. He looked up at Izumi, whose inky eyes were now rimmed with tears, trembling silently. Her wide grin crumbled as the corners of her mouth fought against gravity.

Something stirred within Ichiro, an emotion he couldn't quite identify. But his frustration with that fact prompted him into action.

Suddenly, the page Izumi was writing on was ripped from the notebook. Her eyes fluttered rapidly, clearing her vision as she tried to process what had just happened. “Hey! What are you doing?” Her head jerked up, watching Ichiro as he reread the words scribbled on the paper. “That's mine! Give it back!” Her arms flailed, attempting to retrieve the page from him.

“Sorry, not going to happen.” Ichiro replied as he folded up the piece of paper and stuck it into his pocket. “I need it first.”

Izumi's eyes reflected a mix of emotions, caught between embarrassment and anger. “What are you talking about? What are you going to do with it?”

Ichiro rolled his eyes, savoring the moment as he responded, “I thought it was obvious.” A mischievous smirk played on his lips, further irritating Izumi. He relished the tables turning in their dynamic. “I need a list of places to take you,” Ichiro explained, his tone playful. Izumi's eyes contorted in confusion, struggling to understand his intentions. “I want to read whatever you write. And if you're not planning on writing until you have these experiences, then I'll have to take you there myself.”

Izumi's jaw dropped in disbelief upon hearing this unexpected declaration. Her lips quivered as if trying to form words, but no sound escaped them. Finally, she closed her mouth tightly and took a deep breath through her nose. “What does that even mean, you idiot?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and curiosity.

Ichiro bent down, getting on one knee, and locked his gaze with hers as tears welled up in her eyes once again. His hand instinctively reached out and landed on hers as he spoke with unwavering determination.

“Izumi, I make this promise to you,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “If there's anywhere you want to go, I promise to take you there. And if you aren’t able to get there on your own, I promise to be your legs for you and take you there myself. Name the place, anywhere at all, and I will make it happen. No questions asked.”

The tears finally streamed down Izumi's cheeks, her hand slipping away from his in a desperate attempt to help cover her face. “You idiot,” she chuckled through her tears, her shoulders trembling with a mix of emotions. “You already said you don't read.”

Ichiro nodded, his resolve unwavering. “Yeah, I know. But I want to read your writing. This is my goal now.”