A Final Goodnight Together

We were on two sides of a hedge, but I never felt closer to her than at that very moment. By the next day, she'd be gone, and I wasn't sure if I would ever get another chance to be with her. That was my only opportunity, back at the place where we met, back at the place where I would often reminisce.

I extended my arm over the top of the hedge and unfurled my fingers to reveal the polymer clay white lily necklace. Her lips parted with her pearly whites rivaling the accessory for which one glimmered more. Ecstasy was prominent in her eyes as she stared; she couldn't separate them from the object. Caught breathless, she remained still, she remained in awe.

I said, "This was supposed to be one of your birthday presents, but I guess it'd be more appropriate as a going away present instead."

She reached out for the necklace, cupping her hands together underneath it. I placed the necklace on her palms and she cautiously reeled her arms back as if she was holding a delicate baby chick.

She mumbled, "Like the purity of a white lily…"

"That's what my name means, right? I thought it'd be nice if a bit of purity went with you to Italy."

She didn't say anything else and instead walked around the hedge to meet me without barriers. She returned the necklace to me and turned around, then gathered all her hair together into one palm and lifted it up to reveal the nape of her neck.

She turned her neck so she'd be looking over her shoulder.
"Can you put it on for me, please?" she asked.

Her side profile of a refined jawline and flawless skin, accompanied by what looked like a smooth and soft nape made my heart flutter out of my chest; I wouldn't be surprised if she could hear it. I slowly approached her and raised my arms above her head to hover the necklace over her chest. I then pulled back to her neck and clipped the necklace at her nape.

She let her hair down and returned towards mine. I saw all of her illuminate, like the flowers that glisten because of the sun.

"How does it look? Do I look pretty with it?"

I didn't answer right away, because I was finding the right words.Once I did, I said, "You've always been pretty, it's the necklace that looks better than ever before. You can't improve on perfect, but perfect does help make other things look better."

It was true, she was perfect in my eyes. Within this garden of flowers, it was like she was a flower herself. Perhaps it was pure coincidence, but I managed to pick the perfect one amongst them all. She proved her worth and more so effortlessly, it was hard to believe she was even human.

She tilted her head with a crinkled nose. My cryptic way of calling her beautiful had left her stumped, but I was certain she knew what I was trying to say.

"Fufu," she giggled lightheartedly. "You talk more like a poet every time we meet. I'm eager to see what kind of poet you'll become."

"Oh yeah, that reminds me. What are we goin' to do for the butterfly weed's new poem? I was hopin' to get it done before you left, that way you can try and promote it in Europe in any way you can, but it seems like it'll be too late to finish it."

She took a step forward and our faces were separated by inches.
"Actually, I'm finished on my side."

I raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh, really? You came up with a new meanin' for it? What is it?"

I felt something touching my chest. It was too rough for it to be a hand, and when I looked down to see it, I recognized something that had recently become a major part of my life.

"Your calendar?" I asked.

She nodded and issued an, "Mhm!" as a response.
"Don't read it now, I don't need the poem to be done before I leave. I want you to take as much time as you need to incorporate what I've written."

"Written? You mean like, on the page the butterfly weed is on? That's on your birthday."
I began flipping the pages.

"No, silly," she said as she stopped my hand. "You remember the pages after the calendar where I wrote about my secret, correct? Go there and read everything inside it."
Her smile continued to grow.

"Are you sure? You didn't write anythin' private in there, did you?"

"Of course I did! It's okay though, since we began 'Operation Sprechchor,' I always wrote stuff down with the intention that you would read it someday."

I opened the book from the back with the intention of getting only a small sneak peek, but she shut down my attempt without flair. Her cheeks were a light rose, which teased about the kind of content she wrote inside.

She doesn't want me to read it with her here. That makes me want to do it more, but I'll spare her for now.

"Th-Thank you for the necklace, Kiyoshi-kun. I think it will become something I never want to take off."

"Well, if you don't, then my arts and craft necklace case will be obsolete."

"Fufu, I can still have it as a souvenir, so it's okay."

"Guess my hardworkin' labor won't be for nothin' then. Thanks too, by the way, for entrustin' me with your calendar. I'll do my very best to use the material to make the best thing you've ever read."

"I look forward to it, whenever that day may come. Speaking of which, how should we stay in contact? I know money is tight for your family, so if you would like, I could buy you an upgraded phone so we can stay in contact better. Video calls and all."

As she spoke, I sat down between the shrubs with my back to the hedge. She remained standing, though she leaned a bit forward.

"I appreciate the offer," I said, "but I want to earn the privilege of talkin' with you on my own. I'll get a part-time job somewhere and use the money from that to buy myself a phone. You'll be the first person I call–– Well, unless my mom calls me first."

She displayed an ear-to-ear approval of my efforts. Her hands felt the necklace as it laid on her chest underneath the spring sky: Cloudless, pure blue, with a beaming sun.

She was a girl full of chipperness, but it wasn't who she was entirely. She hid herself within this garden of flowers away from everyone else, not being able to express her love for them. With me, she truly opened up like a blooming flower, showing her petals to the world.

For the rest of that day, I spent my time looking at her and only her, wondering how my life would be once she was gone. I wasn't crestfallen or anything like that, but rather looking forward to it, because I had something I needed to achieve.

➼ ➼ ➼

For the sleepover, we all stayed in her empty room with the lights on in a pentagon formation. Akaki-kun and I were next to each other, more separated from the girls, but still close enough to talk together. We stayed up until one in the morning, with everyone falling asleep one-by-one until it was just Yuri-chan and I left.

We discovered everyone else were heavy sleepers when our whispers raised into normal volume. I was sideways in my sleeping bag, holding my head in hand with my elbow as support.

"We never really got to do anythin' like this before, like talk on the phone at night."

"All you would be hearing on my side is silence. I'm quite the early sleeper."

"That's an even better reason for why we should've done so. I'll make sure we do once I get my new phone."

"I'll hold you to that, you can get my number from Hanamaru-chan."

She took off her necklace as she felt herself submitting to slumber. It laid gently in the cardstock case with the cotton as its cushion. My drowsy eyes watched as she tucked herself into her sleeping bag and turned to face me.

"Goodnight, Kiyoshi-kun," she said, eyes already closed.

She had quickly fallen asleep before having the chance to hear my reply. Nevertheless, as I looked at how she breathed in seven-second intervals with soft exhales, with strands of hair over her face, I returned the sentiment.

I reached to turn off the light of the room and said, "Goodnight to you too, Yuri…"

➼ ➼ ➼

At the crack of dawn, dams were broken as the four visitors stood on one side of the street, and Yuri-chan and her mother stood on the other. Farewells, wishes of care, and hugs were exchanged.

Before the butterfly weeds could bloom at the school's flower garden, their main supporter had left the country. I sat in my apartment, alone, with her calendar in hand.