Apple and Sunset

The trail started off with a narrow stone path through the gigantic trees that flaunted their verdant leaves. Ringomori’s shoulder continuously tapped against my forearm; the path expanded after the first five minutes. Despite that, the distance between the two of us hadn’t grown with it.

The path had smoothly transitioned from natural stone to wooden planks. It wrapped around the trees, bending and curving as it went up the mountain. A small river upstream paralleled the trail until it split at a fork.

We took a short break and leaned against the ligneous fence.

She called out, “Oh, a squirrel’s running past along the railing over there!”
On the spur of the moment, she skipped further along the trail to catch up with the squirrel, but it slipped away through a murky thicket on the dirt.

I caught up with her.
“Did you think you had a chance?”

“As much of a chance as my adoption.”

“I wouldn’t phrase it like that.”

“Adoption at our age isn't very likely, especially when you start breaking down at arbitrary intervals.”

The forest, with all of its chirps and chatter, fell quiet. I had no answer for her, and was disappointed with myself because of it. She turned away from me and continued walking, I followed shortly behind her.

There were hardly any other hikers on the trail, which made it easy for Ringomori to shift gears and openly record to her heart’s content whilst I isolated myself by listening to music with my earphones. I failed to experience the view above and around me, only staring at the mudded planks below my feet as I walked with a hanging head.

The hike up the mountain’s primeval forest was a half-hour journey.

I took out my phone and paused my music. There were plenty of shrines and statues on the summit, and while they were interesting, I didn’t bother reading about any of them. I turned to Ringomori, ready to suggest leaving, when I saw her still walking.

On the farside of the summit was an aperture in the trees that allowed us to see out into the city. A ledge made of stones made it possible to sit safely and admire the view. She crouched to feel the stone, then placed her basket down and opened the lid.

What is she… What?

Apparently her basket wasn’t just packed with apples, but also two square cushions someone would have for their sofa. She placed both of them on the stones, sitting on one with her legs crossed, then faced me.

“Would you…like to sit?” she suggested.

I tilted my head from confusion and asked, “Why would you want to stay here longer?”

In a discouraged tone, she said, “I…said this would be a relaxing outing…remember? It’s not often you get to go somewhere new that…makes you forget about the places you’re always at…right?”

“Forgettin’ isn’t always a good thing. There’s nothin’ left for you but emptiness that you don’t know will be filled again. I find comfort in stayin’ in the same, mundane place all the time.”

Her crestfallen gaze returned to the city, she brought her knees to her chest.
“Well…I find comfort in exploring, but maybe you’re right, we should leave. I must be a failure in your book.”

She submitted easily, but I realized her true feelings were hidden for the sake of ending the conversation sooner; I sometimes did the same thing. She began standing up, but I had stopped her by extending my arm from my pocket.

“N-No, please.”
I tentatively sat myself down on the cushion next to her.
“Y-You’re not a failure, I wasn’t considerin’ how you f-felt. I don’t really understand it, b-but it only makes sense that you’d want to see the amazin’ view after walkin’ all this way.”

“You say ‘amazing’ but…you’re still looking down. Please try looking…at the view. The sun’s finally out…”

The sun…

I always missed out on the times when days were vibrant with sunlight, due to how I preferred to stare at the ground. I guess I had been so used to the gray clouds, seeing the gray stones and concrete didn’t feel like much of a difference.

I lifted my chin and gradually raised my eyes. First I saw the trunks of trees, then their branches and canopies, then ultimately at the city. Numerous crepuscular rays shone through the fog down to the surface. They were proof that above the chalky ceiling was another level where the sun always was.

I let out a whisper, “This scenery…”

Without breaking eye contact with the sunrays, I took off my backpack and brought it to my lap. Inside was a notebook and a pouch full of pens and pencils. I couldn’t see her face, but I imagined Ringomori was definitely confused.
“I can draw this.”

“I never…knew you could draw. How…have I never seen you draw?”

“I think as a kid, I used to only draw in my room, ‘cause I had old notebooks of a bedroom I don’t remember. After the accident, I started drawin’ at school. It didn’t take long for me to run out of material.”

“I see…”

“I wasn’t plannin’ on actually drawin’ today, but seems like a part of me was hopeful. Guess I’m the failure in my own book.”

“Well then, don’t let me distract your artistic creativity.”

“Actually,” I turned to face her, “I-I always draw while listenin’ to music, but really I just need to have sound around me, or else I just shut down, y’know? So…maybe…”

I couldn’t follow through with my selfish request, but nonetheless, she must have understood what I meant. She reached into her basket and pulled out a tiny blanket with a few apples. The blanket was spread between us, and she laid out the apples in a ring.

“Do you mind if…I record from behind us? I…I want to capture the sunset. You won’t be on video…but if you still don’t––”

“It’s okay,” I interrupted. “If I move a bit this way, you’ll get a better shot. I’ll even show my drawin’ process.”

She looked like she was going to say something, but instead picked up a scarlet apple. A piercing crunch entered my ears. Her hand covered her mouth as she chewed, and I looked at the apple with a sizable chunk bitten from it. A thin grin appeared on my face.

Returning to my paper, I asked, “You just eat them to the core?”

“Surprised? Most people never like to eat their apples with straight bites, they’d rather peel and cut the fruit. I occasionally make rabbit apple slices.”
She pulled out a kitchen knife.
“Do you have a specific cut?”

I finished sketching the clouds in the sky. To answer her question, I shrugged.
“I don’t really eat apples.”

“Did you know apples are sometimes seen as a symbol of knowledge and wisdom? Popularized by Sir Issac Newton's discovery with them. Maybe if you ate apples, you’d be able to gain the knowledge of your life before the accident.”

She offered an apple and I took it. I had two choices: Ignore her comical remark or seize the opportunity to make a lighthearted retort. I chose the latter.
“Do you believe an apple a day keeps the doctor away too? ‘Cause it hasn’t worked out too well for you.”

She had a deadpan face, which led me to believe I had completely missed the mark. That was until her expression completely changed as she puffed her cheeks to restrain a laugh, but it leaked out with a giggle.

It felt like she constantly swapped between two different people. To go from reserved to open was rather impressive, at least for me. It made me wonder what criteria she checked off to be diagnosed the same as me.

Staring into the concrete city, she said, “The symbolism of apples varies, with temptation and sin – even death – being associated with the fruit. Love is also one of them, though I don’t know which belief is most true.”

“I’m sure there’s a way to deduce it.”

“I hope I find it.”

As the sun continued to set to our right, she spoke to the camera more than me, and I finished the left side of my drawing. I outlined the landscape of the right side, also adding a personal touch with it. I showed it to the camera when she wasn’t looking, because I knew she’d see it later. An apple and a sunset mix well together.

I felt a vibration in my pocket, it was from my phone. I saw that she had also taken her phone out, and it was for the same reason.

“One of the caregivers is asking what time we’ll be returning.”

“Are you goin’ to be punctual with them?”

She snickered, then said, “In cases with other people, it’s easier to round the time. You’re a lost cause.”

“Wow, I see how it is.”

We decided to leave then, packing our belongings and making our way to the subway. She asked if I had finished my drawing, and I told her I was nearly done and would add some finishing touches later. We walked and talked as we made our way back to the orphanage.

We separated into our own rooms without saying a word. I never saw her for the rest of the day, but she did send a message; a photo.

She had taken a picture of a moment recorded on her camera, the moment when I sneakily showed what I was really drawing. It was of her looking out into the distance, I made sure to detail her side profile better than the rest. She then sent a message:

You sly worm. I enjoyed our outing. Surely enough, it was relaxing, and something to always remember.

Every day was copy and paste from the previous, so there was hardly anything memorable about them. I thought back and replayed the day in my mind, and it did appear relaxing, and something I wasn’t likely to forget.

For once, I caught myself smiling at the end of the day.