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Asakusa crouches on the laundry’s doorstep, hands hugging her knees. The rain is drumming rapidly on the air conditioner above Asakusa’s head. Splashing drops get on already soaked shoes of Asakusa, strands of still-wet black hair stick to her forehead. There is a water curtain right before her nose: she likes to smell a dizzy scent of rain and imagine a great waterfall. So here she is: caught in the rainfall, dressed up in a school sports uniform and waiting for laundry to be done. And while Asakusa waits, explores and observes, she finds a new friend.
“Hey, little one.”
A small grass frog is sitting between a couple of blades of grass near the doorstep. Its light brown skin with earthy green stains is wet from the rain and for a moment reminds Asakusa her own hat. Slowly and carefully not to scare the frog away she leans down to earth so low that she nearly bumps her head into it. The frog turns its head and Asakusa meets its eyes (one eye actually): deep natural green with dark speckles. In the black of a horizontal pupil, Asakusa seems to see her own reflection: round face with dark and protruding eyes. Unfortunately, right when Asakusa is about to go fetch her exploration journal, the frog croaks loudly (scaring Asakusa half to death) and jumps away, hiding in the grass. Asakusa respires. Frogs... Her mind is floating lazily. Asakusa remembers reading about frogs and spiders: how tarantula spider, who usually kills and eats everything that is smaller than itself, protects a frog and lets it live in spider’s burrow, and in return frog eats all the tiny pests. The rain is as strong as ever — you may even think that it’ll never stop. Asakusa looks into the puddle... well, she tries to — but it’s impossible to see anything while furious drops thresh on the surface tirelessly.
Symbiosis... Coexistence...
“If I am the frog,” Asakusa ponders thoughtfully. “Does it make Kanamori-shi the spider?”
It was only about a week since Kanamori and Asakusa have gotten to know each other and yet Asakusa already feels so indebted — and Kanamori is not the kind of person to forgive debts. Even if to consider only today, Kanamori has already done so much for her...
Asakusa stands in the back of the last row, tries not to raise her eyes and chants a familiar mantra:
“Please no, please no, please no, please no, please no, please-“
“Please, pair for the next exercise,” Teacher's voice reaches her ears, like a bang of a closing door. There is no way to escape.
All at ones Asakusa’s blue sport suit feels like a suffocating straitjacket. Walls seem to grow taller while Asakusa tries to shrink down and disappear. Feeling backed into a corner, she looks around in panic: unexpectedly distant faces and voices are floating in front of her eyes, making her head dizzy.
Kanamori clearly stands out from the crowd (well, of course, she’s so damn tall!), so no wonder that Asakusa’s eyes landed on her among the crowd. Just like in their first meeting she stands tall, confident, unbothered, and a little bit terrifying. Asakusa realizes that she’s staring only when Kanamori turns her head and casts a look of grey eyes from the top down. And now it’s too late to look away. Afraid to even blink, Asakusa continues to stare and sweat while her brain is going crazy and the blood boils because of panic.
And then Kanamori heaves a sigh, rolls her eyes, and gives Asakusa a sign to come closer. Their exercising is still ridiculously awkward but at least Asakusa feels like she can breathe again.
“Here is your pork ramen with seaweed.“
“Thank you very much.”
Asakusa takes a red steaming bowl from the kind hands of the lady at the counter and steps back with her tray. Standing on a shiny floor of the canteen, Asakusa looks around strategically. It’s just a peaceful lunch break but the longer she looks, the more worried she gets. The smell of warm food, smiling faces... and absolutely, most definitely no unoccupied tables. Asakusa tries very hard no to be too obvious and desperate when she turns around in search of a place. Well, there are actually enough free places at the tables... But no vacant separate table. Not a single one. Asakusa greets her teeth, feeling a lump in her throat. The smell of ramen becomes sickening.
‘Am I standing here too long? Damn, I’m standing here too long!’ Nobody’s paying attention to her but for Asakusa, it seems like she’s standing in the very center with nowhere to hide. The clean floor shines so very brightly.
Loud rattling comes right from behind making Asakusa gulp and nearly drop her tray. Instantly she spins around to see a long leg in black tights pushing back a chair. Kanamori jerks her head to the side with a look of boredom in her eyes:
“How about quitting standing idle and finally sitting down? Your ramen must be cooling down.”
“Ah... Yes! Okay! Thank you, Kanamori-shi,” Asakusa exhales with relief and rushes to the table.
They eat in blissful silence.
Asakusa is running forward, balancing on the narrowest path, while everything behind collapses and below awaits only a dark devouring abyss. But one wrong step and... oh, god, she’s falling.
Asakusa is back in the real world as soon as she slips on the curb. Before Asakusa’s eyes is grey hard asphalt. She has no time to scream or call — only to screw up his eyes tightly. That’s when long fingers of a bony but strong hand grab her by the backpack and don't let go. Shocked, Asakusa opens her eyes wide while Kanamori gives her a firm tug and low and behold, Asakusa is standing firmly on the ground again. Kanamori’s look is disapproving, but, nevertheless, her harsh words: “Watch your feet, would you,” — make Asakusa feel warm all over. So she just looks up to Kanamori (more than just in one sense) and can’t utter a single word. Instead, Asakusa closes her opened in an awe mouth and nods.
Together they walk down the street for about ten minutes before it starts to rain... no, pour. Unfortunately, the second time Asakusa slips, Kanamori doesn’t have time to catch her: Face-first, Asakusa falls into a puddle. That’s, by the way, the original reason why now they are in this laundry. “Cheapest in the city,” Kanamori has smiled to herself when they entered.
‘Kanamori-shi is nice,’ Asakusa thinks to herself, still sitting at the doorstep. ‘Even if she’s terrifyingly tall, has ridiculously long limbs and smile is usually more of a grin — just like a spider, even so, she helps a lot.’
Rain comes crashing down on the air conditioner above her head. It’s getting colder, Asakusa’s toes are pretty numb so far. A monotone clatter of washing machines is soothing.
Asakusa straightens up, stretching. The frog is nowhere to be seen. She turns around and comes inside. In the dim light, her gaze falls upon a dusty vending machine.
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Small rapid steps echo from the stairs. Kanamori lazily looks out of the window of the break room on the second floor. The rain outside is a solid and monochrome wall. The door swings open, but that’s not what makes Kanamori turn around. With a loud thump, a glass bottle meets the table surface.
“Here you are!” Asakusa beams proudly. “A small payment for your help, Kanamori-shi! In honor of coexistence!”
Kanamori silently takes the bottle of strawberry flavored milk in her hands and wants to squint: in the rainy afternoon, Asakusa’s smile shines brighter than the sun. Kanamori opens her mouth... but no, she’ll never (at least maybe not now) say that her friendship is already enough. Instead of that she raises an eyebrow and asks:
“Only one? Really?”
“Yikes! O-one minute! Stay here! I’ll be right back!”
At the same moment Asakusa turns her back and rushes out of the room, Kanamori smiles too warm for a cold rainy day.