XIX. a dandelion seed that'll land but never germinate

I walked in to Kaguya half-naked and on all fours on top of some guy. I shut the door immediately, but it was too late; they scrambled and screamed within the apartment. Moments later, she opened it again. Cheeks flushed, she told me, "It's not that it seems like."

"Don't care," I said. 

"No, listen—"

"Don't care. Just... call me once you're done."

And so, I'd left the place I'd called home for the last sixteen years. And three-quarters. 

Izumi was in the teapot party club or whatever the fuck it was and Kenji never answered his phone, and so I was alone, unwanted, nothing but a dandelion seed that'll land but never germinate. Such was the punishment for skipping rehearsals again. That, and getting kicked out of the drama club. Boo hoo. So sad. Too bad.

As I headed to be sad and bad boo hoo at the coffee shop nearby, I got a text from the one and only.

stalker-chan: You didn't go to the theater thing today :'3

A drop fell on the screen. So dramatic. I had to hustle before it started to rain. My fingers hurt, so I just called her as I walked. "What color is your underwear?" Was Hanamura's greeting. 

Fuck, it made me smile again without thinking. It started to drizzle, yet the sun hadn't fled, so for a moment, it looked as though the world had turned gold. 

Right, right, I had to reply. "I'm naked again."

I heard her giggle at the other end of the line. "In the street?"

"...what. Are you...?"

"Right behind you."

I turned around. Nothing. Just gold and silver. "Uh."

Said giggle turned into hoots. "Y-you..." she trailed off. "Did you just turn around? That's so fffh..."

Women. All the same. I resumed my walk. Hastened it, even—the silver slowly but surely took over the gold. Thankfully, the coffee shop stood just across the street. "Where are you?" I asked.

"Home. I just guessed you were on the street cuz you skipped and I think I heard a car. Skipped theater club, I mean. Not like, jumped."

"Yeah, I got that."

"Why?"

The drizzle faded once I stepped into the coffee shop, cold and empty, like my brain. The aroma more than made up for it, though. Too bad the air conditioning was so extreme it chilled the urge to use someone. "Uh." A group of girls from a different school sat at the corner I tended to use with Izumi and the rest; a couple sat at the booths in front of the window. The place was otherwise deserted. "I was going to tell you if, uh. If you're free that there's this coffee shop—"

"Is it the one with the Victorian tea sets?"

"The—yes. But no. They're not Victorian. Just because they look old doesn't mean—" I shut up. No one in my demographic should know as much as I did about tea sets. "But yes. I was going to tell you to, um, to come if you wanted to, but it looks like it's going to rain."

"Okay! Give me ten minutes."

"Like I said—" She hung up. 

I chose a seat next to a glass case displaying the LIMOGES tea sets. Every time I looked at them I felt homicidal, because I'd spent the better part of my third year of middle school and last year working to save up for a set, and then my dad got so drunk one night he used the pot as a urinal. I'd die mad. 

It started to rain. How nice. I really shouldn't have called her. 

Which reminded me.

While I waited in case she showed up, I took out the book about a girl who turned into a goblin and died at the end. I was as much of a reader as the average kindergartener, yet even I could tell the cover was as low quality as it got, the pages made of bond paper. Where had she even gotten this from? The thing at on the cover less resembled a goblin and more a piece of ginger. 

Whatever. I opened the book. With my three cups of coffee, the threat of rain and a low, jazzy track in the background, it should be easy to get into it.

Moon was not a goblin when she woke up. She went to feed the chickens, milk the cows, and say hello to her neighbors. Nobody found this strange because she was not a goblin yet.

Very Hanamuraesque.

Adam was a goblin when he woke up. He couldn't feed the chicken, milk the cows, or say hello to any human, or they'd throw stones at him and try to kill him, since he'd been a goblin for a long time.

Silly me for looking up the second the door opened; in walked Hanamura, dressed in casual clothes, waving good-bye to some guy wielding an umbrella who said something I couldn't hear, and which made her stick her tongue out at him, because she was not a goblin yet. She didn't look like one, either. A bit bizarre to wear a pink dress and neon green sneakers, but sure, why not. She looked there, then here, then grinned. 

It'd look suspicious to shove the book into my backpack as she approached, so I just left it there as she sat. She said nothing. She toyed with the end of her braid. Very nice. "You must live close if you showed up this fast," I told her, because greetings were for people who hadn't been goblins for a long time. 

Hanamura nodded. 

"How did it go with your ten million boyfriends?"

Hanamura nodded. 

"Wow, I can't get what you're saying if you talk so fast."

"Hi."

"HI."

"Don't look at my feet."

On one hand: bizarre request. On the other: I got it. "Why not?" I asked anyway. 

"So. You can make fun of me if you want. I forgot I was wearing these until... thirty seconds ago? Yeah. Why do you have three cups of coffee? Are they all the same? How are you? I don't have ten million boyfriends. Also, your friend talked to me."

That'd happened to me once or twice. Nomura's older brother showed up to take Hanamura's order, squinting at her. "Is this a different one?" He asked me. 

Hanamura looked at him, then at me. "Yes," I replied, without looking at either. 

She ordered one (1) cookie. "A different one," she echoed, once the noisy waiter had fucked off. 

"Yes."

"Oh. Is she cute?"

"No."

"Wow, I can't get what you're saying if you talk so fast."

I hated how easily she got reactions out of me. How she knew. How it made her grin—specifically like how she ended most texts. "Who was the guy you showed up with, anyway?" 

This is where she would've replied with a >:3. "Neighbor," replied Hanamura. "I still have friends outside of school and stuff."

"Oh, that's good."

"Yeah. I might have died otherwise." A second later, she made an addendum: "Joke! Joke. Sorry. Too dark."

"It's fine," I said.

"Ugh." She released her braid of its torment. "Sorry, I'm used to. Joking around with my neighborhood friends like that. I forget to switch gears."

"Wait, so you're one of those people that changes personalities depending on who you talk to?"

"Not exactly."

It'd explain a lot. A LOT. I'd emptied the first cup already, so I started on the second one. 

All this while, Hanamura had sit as though she had an invisible castle of cards on her head. "Since I told you I'd talk about this last time," she said, "I guess I could, if you really, really want to, but first... you're gonna get kicked out of your theater thing."

"Just was."

The castle of cards fell down. "What!? Why!?"

"I was supposed to hand in an audition piece today. I did, kind of, from the stuff you sent. The prez didn't like it and the other song I chose got a bad review. But it's fine. I never really liked it anyway."

"Then why did you join?"

"No one else did and I felt bad for the girl recruiting members."

"You could've just left if you didn't like it," Hanamura said, "I thought you were the kind of person that'd do that."

"I'm not. I'm as much of a chameleon as you."

Hanamura said nothing for so long that the noisy waiter came to drop her cookie (1), which she contemplated sadly. She should've chosen something else. I thought she was that kind of person. (I was petty.)

"You can have the third one," I said, gesturing at the final, untouched cup of coffee. "I think that that one doesn't have sugar. Let me get some."

"I'm good." Hanamura took it, sipped, then held back a grimace. "Thank you."

"The offer's still up if you want me to get you some sugar. Anyway, your turn."

"So..."