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The first time it had awakened within Momo, everything suddenly slotted into place.
The human race had transformed into a kaleidoscope of colours, and the instant change left Momo frantically looking around in shock. Her eyes swept over the other passengers on the train, and whilst she could still see their outlines, any and all details had been replaced with a block of colour.
Like a movie. Like a novel. Like this is how it’s supposed to be.
Momo glanced down at her shaking hands, and this revealed to her that they were nothing but red: the red discovered by lovers, and the red created by fires. It was the shade of passion and persistence, and Momo felt that the colour suited her well. Something clicked into place with that thought, and wanting to test the theory, she turned to another passenger on the train.
Momo’s eyes fell upon a soft yellow, one found on summer sundresses and one that shone like buttercups glowing on skin, and although the profile bore no details, Momo knew that the welcoming presence could only be Ochako. Her profile gleamed a gentle yellow, and Momo smiled: the colour reminded her of roses thanks to the flower language, where yellow on roses represented friendship and care. That fitted Ochako very well, Momo thought, and this thought added to Momo’s theory that the colours were supposed to represent the soul within.
“Momo, is something wrong?”
Ochako’s voice snapped Momo out of her thoughts, and she blushed as she realized she had been staring at a friend for a while.
“Ah, I am so very sorry! I was deep in thought about something.”
Ochako waved her hand dismissively, “Don’t worry, don’t worry! You just looked very confused.”
“It is not that… In fact…” Momo racked her brains for an excuse. “I was reading this book about flower arranging last night. I found the chapter on colour theory particularly interesting, however it seems I stayed up too late reading it. It is not confusion, but fatigue.” Momo was grateful to her studious personality, as it created a believable lie that nobody would question. Although she hated to lie, but for now it was necessary. Besides, Momo wasn’t sure if anyone would believe the truth.
“Flower arranging, huh!” Ochako clapped her hands together. “What a dignified hobby! As expected of you, Momo.”
Momo laughed weakly in return. That was a much better excuse than “I was staring at the colour of your soul which reminded me of buttercups and roses.”
“This is so interesting, Momo!” Ochako was already searching about colour theory on her mobile. “Ah, look!” She was waving her yellow block of a flip phone in Momo’s face. How did she even have an Internet browser on that old thing? “I thought pink was just for romance, but it says it can also mean joy and happiness. How cute!” She paused, as if suddenly coming to a conclusion, and then jerked up in her seat, flustered and waving her hands in front of her face. “N-Not that I’m thinking I want someone to give me any!”
Momo smiled weakly, but her mind was elsewhere, for she was deep in thought: perhaps this phenomenon the key to solving her heart’s deepest mystery. She couldn’t understand why she was nervous, and yet she was, as her hands were clenched into crimson fists, and her heart was in her throat, and as if it was the wind, her voice was a whisper when she spoke.
“What does it say about the colour green?”
“I’ll have a look...” Ochako scrolled down. “It says here that it means health, good fortune and youth."
Momo smiled weakly at that, and turned her body to gaze out of the carriage’s window. She watched the countryside as it flew by: the multitude of greens merged into one, whilst specks of souls added colour to the green blur. Dog walkers, farmers, hikers, they all added an array of colour to the canvas that was the countryside. Momo sighed as she stared: Ochako’s answer had given her little consolation, as it gave no clues regarding the question she had asked for years.
For she had been chasing a colour all her life. A green with hints of blue, an ethereal colour associated with witchcraft and wonder, and with ambition and balance. Her eyes, no matter where she looked or what she thought, would seek out this shade, constantly searching for the dark green. Whenever she found this colour, whether it be on art, clothes or flowers, she felt immense wonder and belonging, but inanimate objects were never enough. Perhaps… it was a person she had spent her life searching for?
Momo sighed again.
What would happen if she met the dark green soul? Why did she think of a certain colour constantly? What was this phenomenon and was it linked to the green soul? Perhaps everything wasn't slotting into place at all.
The train sped towards the university as she lay her head on the window and closed her eyes; her head filled with more questions than answers.
----
“Dark purple.” Kyouka nodded, and then took a sip of her cider. “There’s loads of influential rock sounds associated with that colour.”
“I’d be pink, definitely!” Mina exclaimed, jumping in her seat as she did so.
Momo held her glass of wine to her chest, hoping that her friend’s energetic personality didn’t spill the drink down her burgundy dress. She was sat - or cramped - in between Kyouka and Mina, on a small sofa in Ochako’s living room. Considering the fact the rest of their friendship group was sat on the floor or on cushions, she wasn’t going to complain, especially when Ochako had planned this this morning. In fact, she had planned this get-together on the train, citing that Momo seemed upset and maybe needed a drink, or someone to talk to.
Momo smiled. Her friend really had a heart, and a soul, of gold.
Curious, she decided to see if her friend’s conclusions were correct. Luckily, she had figured out how to activate or deactivate her newfound power in a lecture, when her pen and paper turned crimson whenever she picked it up, rendering her unable to take notes. Out of frustration, Momo had rubbed her eyes, and apparently that was the key.
She brought her hands, curled into fists, to her eyes and rubbed.
Of course, Kyouka was a plum purple. Not only associated with the music she loved so, purple was known to evoke feelings of mystery. Maybe symbolic of Kyouka’s guarded heart?
Momo’s eyes darted to the rest of the circle they were sat in. Mina was a hot pink, Tsuyu was a jade green, and Toru was a pure white. Of course, Ochako’s yellow was there too, chatting to Mina animatedly. Behind Ochako was the rest of the living room, where silhouettes stood of other students she didn’t recognise, people Ochako had invited but Momo didn’t recognise. She remembered Ochako rubbing the back of her head and sheepishly admitting she invited everyone in her contacts, hoping a lively atmosphere would cheer Momo up.
“Hey, what about you, Tsuyu?” Toru asked from the floor.
Tsuyu placed a finger on her chin thoughtfully. “A dark green… like a swamp.”
“Oi.. oi… you’re way too cute to be comparing yourself to a swamp!” Kyouka said.
“But swamps are warm and pretty. I don’t see what’s wrong with that.”
“Each to their own I guess…”
Ochako laughed. “Aren’t you all just naming your favourite colours? Kyouka and Tsuyu named the colour they dyed their hair!”
Laughter erupted from the circle of friends, and Momo chucked, but then she sighed. As much as she loved to laugh with her friends, the jokes surfaced the same uncertainty she had felt all day.
She wasn’t sure how she was managing to laugh and drink with friends after suddenly gaining the ability to see people’s souls.
“Maybe that’s why they are your favourite colours!” Mina said.
Maybe she was right. Maybe there was no hidden secret, maybe she could just see people’s favourite colours now. Wait. That was ridiculous. Maybe she just liked the colour green and the stress of university was getting to her, disrupting her vision. That had to be it, she had always been prone to anxiety and overthinking.
But it felt so real.
“I need some air.” Momo said, standing up.
“Yaomomo, are you okay?” Mina asked. The rest of the circle shared the same worried look plastered on Mina’s face.
“Yes, I am very sorry to worry you.” She replied, “I think I just feel a bit… tired in here. My vision is going a bit blurry.”
Before anyone would voice their concerns, Momo was gone, hurriedly walking through the living room, her head held low as she trembled in trepidation. Her heavy breathing, her rushed pace, both were probably turning heads, but all Momo could think of getting away from people, from seeing their souls. Most of all, she wanted fresh air, for her rapid breathing and for her troubled mind. With that thought in mind, she had headed towards the balcony.
The balcony door had been left open, and so a warm breeze welcomed Momo as she stepped onto the balcony, her high heels tapping against the wooden floor. The balcony itself was a small space, but she paid no attention to it, instead heading towards the wooden railing which lined the edge of the balcony. She placed her arms on the wooden railing, leaning on it as she admired the night sky.
In the darkness of the night only the stars shone, dots in the inky expanse which could be seen for miles, stretching into the horizon. She could name every constellation that was before her, and she had never seen such a calming sight, for something so familiar was reassuring to Momo, considering the oddity she had recently experienced.
And yet she pined. The green wasn’t there. If she could only lay her eyes on that green, her worries would be washed away as if her thoughts were waves being carried out to sea.
“You don’t look so good.”
Momo jumped. There was someone else on the balcony? In her panic she hadn’t noticed, and so she turned to the source of the voice, wishing to apologise for not noticing their presence.
And then she gasped.
She hadn’t rubbed her eyes. Her power was still active.
The dark green silhouette in front of her spoke with a monotonous, yet caring voice, and they held themself in firm, yet relaxed manner. Their voice soothed her as if it was a siren’s song, and her anxiety vanished, replaced with a sense of hope, belonging, and a desire to speak to them more.
It was them.
Then Momo remembered: green gemstones were known to create feelings of hope and optimism. This soul, this person… they weren’t a flower.
They were her rock.
She rubbed her eyes, wishing to see the owner of the soul, and she found herself gasping again.
A young man stood in front of her, a man full of contrasts, and his grey and blue eyes were filled with confusion and concern.
Momo fell instantly in love. And then she realised she'd been staring.
“Should I get you some water?” He spoke again.
“Ah, no, no, it is okay, thank you!” Momo managed to speak, her cheeks burning a crimson red, and yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
The man turned his head to the side, and a pink blush crept over his face. “I like that red of yours.” he said, and Momo beamed.
Maybe everything did fit into place after all.