Willow Tree

"I still don't understand how you're expecting to fill a performance hall. Or pay for one," I said.

Haruko stared at an old willow tree growing on the sidewalk. It kept us in the shade while we waited for the crossing light to change. "Me neither."

"Yeah, I was surprised you—Wait, you neither?"

She nodded, eyes still fixed on the tree. "Me neither."

"But you told us earlier you had it all figured—"

"I told Tako and Sato I had it all figured out, I'm telling you that I've not got a clue." Her words danced with the wind that blew the willow leaves into a sway. Her hair swayed in a similar way.

"Is it just me, or are you suspiciously calm right now?"

"I'm allowed to be calm," Haruko said. "But right now I'm just thinking."

Thinking. "About how to fill a performance hall?"

"Partly." She finally looked over at me, and I realized I'd been staring at her the entire time.

I looked away. "Oh, the light changed."

One step from the crosswalk, Haruko grabbed my arm.

"Hm?"

She let go and the hand that grabbed me went limp by her side. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You're not about to tell me you aren't God again, are you?"

A singular, amused puff of air rushed out of her nose. "I'm not." After a long pause, fiddling with her hair, she shook her head and gave off a solemn grin. "Do you think I'm in over my head?"

I couldn't help but let out a tiny laugh, but when she didn't say anything else I stopped and went serious. "Do you mean with the plan?"

"Yeah. But everything else too. Each plan is just that, a plan. Behind the plan is another plan waiting to be worked on. And behind all of them is the whole…" Haruko motioned a circle with her hands, "thing."

"What… thing?" I found myself looking at Haruko with more intent than usual. She wanted to say something, but it was locked inside a vault with a code she couldn't find. That's because the code was written on her face, but I couldn't read it either.

She took a long breath. "An end goal?" Her eyes wandered back to the willow tree. "I've figured out how I want to be, but I still don't know why I want to do it the way I do. It would be nice if I didn't have to fill a performance hall, y'know?"

I mulled over her words and tried to form an answer in my head a couple of times, but nothing sounded right. A car with a gritty engine drove by. "My dad kicked me out of the house earlier, when I took that phone call."

Haruko's mouth fell agape. I must have unlocked a rare facial expression that day, because I've never seen her so taken aback before or since.

"Where are you staying?" she asked.

"With my Uncle, but he lives a couple hours away."

She shook her head, regaining some of her familiar energy. "No. That's stupid. You'll stay with me."

I laughed again, this time, unperturbed by her serious expression. "Yeah? And what about your parents?"

"I don't live with my parents. They work abroad so I live alone."

"They both work abroad… Is that even legal?"

"Likely not. We do have a maid but she never comes around anymore."

I remember asking myself once what kinds of parents raised a kid like Haruko. This made sense.

"I think you probably are," I said.

She peeked at the crosswalk and then back to me. "Are what?" Her head started to tilt side to side and her fingers fiddled with one another.

"In over your head. Your parents aren't around, you plan out grand schemes all day, and you invited someone to live with you at the drop of a hat."

She frowned. "You're not just someone. And I study too." Her legs began to fidget in place. "Hey, don't I owe you a date? Do you want to go somewhere?"

A small flame lit up in my chest. "Like where?"

She glanced back to the tree. "I don't know, but I want it to be big. Somewhere big and important, that's where I'd like to go."

I couldn't help but grin. Even now, I can only smile. If she'd known where she was headed, I think it would've alleviated some of her doubts. After all, in the span of a single year, Haruko Arakawa would come to be the biggest name in Japan.

But that's a different story and I'd like to tell it well. So if you've got the patience, I think I'll save it for next time.

Fin.