Chemicals.

It looked almost like a crime scene. Akimi wore a plastic apron, a big respirator mask, disposable gloves and safety goggles. She poured the liquid from the rounded, black plastic container, through a funnel back into the bottle she had obtained it from; then closed it again, turned around to Takurō.

He wore a mask and safety goggles as well but had only observed the scene a few steps away. “Now it’s the time of truth, yeah.” Akimi pulled off the mask and laid it to the side. She opened the lid from the rounded container. “Let’s see if the meth turned out right.”

“The what?” Takurō backed away, which made Akimi laugh.

She pulled out the spool from the insides of the container, that held two of the 35 mm film rolls and carefully rolled them off, looked at them closely. “Seems like they turned out great, now. So, what do ya say? Wanna try it yourself with the others, yah?”

“Uhh …” He waved his hands. “I mean there were quite a few timings to get right, and I wouldn’t want to ruin any film, f’sure.”

Akimi hung up the two now developed films at the guiding rail of her shower. They both were in the small, modern bathroom that connected right to Akimi’s room.

For developing the film, the roll had to be pulled out in complete darkness, since any light would expose the film further and destroy the images. The small room did not have any windows, so it was easy to seal it off. She could also turn up the ventilation system because the fumes of the chemicals were highly toxic.

“Then … what would you say if you mount the films to the spool and I do the chemical stuff again?” She suggested. “I already showed you how it was done, yeah. You just have to feel your way through everything.”

Takurō gulped, but he nodded. “But I won’t guarantee anything, yah.”

She rinsed the small container another time and gave him a wink. “There is not that much you can do wrong, now. It’s a little bit fiddly, but if you don’t crimp the film too hard you should be good, f’sure.” She placed everything for the next two rolls of film on the table of the sink and took off her gloves, shoved Takurō in front of the arrangement. “Remember, where everything is, ‘ight?”

He nodded. “I’ll try my best.”

Then, Akimi flicked the light switch and from one to the other moment, it was completely dark inside the room. This was not even a situation, where his eyes were still able to adjust to the darkness, until he could see again. There was just no light inside the room.

Akimi had even urged him to leave his phone and smartwatch outside, since they could activate their displays, destroying the film. “First, I have to open the film roll …”

Akimi’s steps came slowly back to him. “Exactly.”

The film had to be taken out of the film roll and mounted to a special plastic spool. For one, the spool provided for a bigger spacing between the film, so the liquid chemicals could reach every side of the film.

Secondly, it could also be put in a special light-proof development canister. After they had put the rolls inside and closed the lid, it was possible to turn the lights back on and pour the development chemicals inside.

But until the canister’s lid was closed, everything had to stay dark. Takurō carefully felt his way across the table. There was the roll of film, there the opening tool. He grabbed both of them and tried cracking the small 35 mm reel. It took a few tries until the lid finally popped off. “It’s open!”

“Great! Now take out the inner part. Try to hold the edges, so it doesn’t unfurl uncontrollably, yeah.”

“Hm!” Takurō nodded. It was very fiddly with the small roll, but he was careful to not make any mistakes. “You’ve done this quite a few times, didn’t you?”

“I used to let my films develop from the lab at YūKa, y’know,” Akimi said. “But it was closed down I think five years ago because the demand was just too small. I could have let a professional lab do the development, but I wanted to try it myself at least one time. Somehow, I stuck with it, now.”

Takurō smiled. “I have the core out.” He felt his way to where the plastic spool was supposed to lie.

“Try to find the small metal bits on the spool. Right next to them should be the feed for the film.”

He found the spool and took it. Akimi had shown him everything theoretically, when the lights were still on, but searching for the nibs with just his tactile sense of one hand, was a real challenge. “Yeah … I think … whoops!” The spool fell from his hand.

“Let me help ya.” Akimi’s hands touched his arm. She dove underneath it, so that she was now squeezed between him and the sink. Her hands followed his arms. She grabbed the spool and searched for the film feed.

“Guess, for you, developing could even be seen as a part of the process as well. A very smart and beautiful photographer once yelled at me that no image turns out the same, y’know.”

One of Akimi’s elbows poked him into the ribs. “Don’t bring that up again! I was just … mad.”

He leaned a little bit further towards Akimi, hugging her slightly from behind. “Mad?”

“It’s just …” She exhaled.

He laid his head on her shoulder. “Just what?”

“I … believed she had snatched even you away from me.”

He drew breath in order to ask, what exactly she was referring to, but Akimi was faster.

“A-a’ight. I have the feed. Where is your hand, now?” She reached out for him and led his free hand towards the right spots. Takurō remembered the way it looked. “You feel this? Try to hang the film in there and then turn it as we trained. I’ll guide you, f’sure.”

Her hand was still above his to guide him. Takurō slowly tried threading the film through the holes she had shown him. “What do you mean … snatched me away from you?”

She sighed. “Truth is, I … had a crush on you even before we met in the gallery, y’know.”

Takurō halted. “You … had?”

“Last year, I saw the Momotarō play from the theatre club. At that time, I didn’t know it was an adaption written by another student. The first line already gave me chills, you won’t believe it, yah.”

Her fingertips gently ran over the back of his hands.

“Something about it felt so close to my heart, like it understood me; like you understood me … even though Momotarō had never been my favorite fairytale. I was a little girl again, listening to my granddad, reading from his big fairytale book. Only that you were a cute guy my age, tugging at my heartstrings like it was nothing.”

He gently shook his head and finally managed to thread the film into the spool. Akimi gave him the spool and put both her hands onto his to guide him. She indicated to begin with the spinning motion.

She giggled slightly. “It was you who inspired me to create the fantasy artworks. None other than you, f’sure. But then you fell in love with my best friend. That’s why I got a little mad at you.”

“I didn’t!” he said briskly. A little too briskly. “I … fell in love with whoever created these beautiful images; y’know. She just told me she had created them, and I didn’t question it, because … it was what I wanted to believe at that time.”

“And now?”

“Now I know the truth. And don’t get me wrong: Raku-chan is still a beautiful girl and an amazing friend, but … she isn’t you.”

They reached the end of the spool. The whole film was now coiled up. Takurō placed the spool on the sink and turned his hands around to intertwine his fingers with Akimi’s. It was a strange, but a beautiful moment. He smelled her hair, felt the outlines of her body, but he didn’t see the girl in front of him.

He gently squeezed her hands. “Can we … maybe try it again, now?”

Akimi didn’t need another second to understand what he was referring to. She turned around.

“But I … uhm, I haven’t done this before, y’know. So …”

Akimi sighed. Her hands gently searched his face and gripped it tightly. “Just shut up and …” Her face was right in front of his again, her breath brushing against his mouth, but there was only blackness. She whispered. “… kiss me.”

Takurō’s heart raced. A wave of nervousness flooded his body, but he wouldn’t back down. Not this time. He lifted his hands, his fingertips tracing the contours of her cheeks as if memorizing every detail.

This summer with her was a brief, beautiful interlude, and he couldn't help but wonder if he’d ever feel as alive as he did right now. There was no use for it in the dark, but he closed his eyes and leaned in.

Their lips touched and his heart skipped several beats. It was just a simple kiss, but somehow, he didn’t want to stop. It was sweet; soft and inviting. They moved as one, gave in to each other, sheltered by the dark. There had been no time, Takurō had ever felt this vulnerable, but also so sheltered at the same time.

Akimi released his face, her arms encircling Takurō’s neck. “Wanna … try one with tongue?” she whispered, almost coyly.

He nodded, breathing. “Yeah.”

She pulled him even closer, kissed him further. The faint taste from ice cream still lingered in her mouth. He stopped caring if he was doing it right. Takurō only noticed moving just the way it felt right. Just so, she was close to him.