Chapter Text
“Huh, who would’ve guessed I’d find you here.”
Keiji jolts right out of the reader’s headspace she was in upon hearing Rintarou’s sarcastic voice seemingly out of nowhere. Her hands lose their grip on the book she’s holding, and the spine clatters against the wood of the table with a sharp clack. She ducks her head out of instinct, fearing that the librarian might scold her for making such a disruptive noise, but it’s summer; there is no one inside the library but her and now Rintarou, not even the librarian who had told Keiji to just lock the door knob once he leaves.
She looks up at Rintarou sheepishly and hides her book underneath her hands out of shame. “I lost track of time again, did I?”
“It’s fine. I knew where to find you anyways.” Rintarou pulls back a chair and Keiji winces at the loud screech it makes. Rintarou didn’t even bother trying to keep quiet.
“Is volleyball training over? Should we go now?” Keiji gathers the loose sheets of paper she had been writing on scattered around her table and tucks it between the pages of the book, serving as a makeshift bookmark.
“Yeah, but I left my bag in the gym so we gotta go back to get it.” Rintarou makes no effort to get up from their seat. Keiji would think they’re tired from training, but Keiji already knows them well enough to know that they’re just being lazy.
“Why did you leave it if you knew where to find me, then?” Keiji questions. She knows how frugal Rintarou is with their time and energy. She once witnessed them carry a stack of chairs in each hand just to avoid making a second trip.
“Okay, fine, you got me. Come with me; I have to show you something.” Rintarou scoots the chair away from the table once more with an ugly screech. They stand and leave the library promptly, without a second look at Keiji. She’s used to Rintarou’s personality by now, but Keiji sticks out a tongue at her behind her back anyway. She meticulously pushes their chairs back under the table, checks for any litter, and locks the door behind her as she leaves the library.
“Took you long enough. How do you stand it inside there anyway? They didn’t even let you turn the fans on?” They fall into place side by side as they walk back to the gymnasiums at the back of the school. The school library is a decrepit little building annexed to the main building. It’s quite neglected; there aren’t many students who visit there after all. It seems like the students of Inarizaki all prefer hanging out with friends after school, or engaging in physical extracurriculars. Keiji appreciates that she at least has a little bubble all to herself, but the small, barely saturated library could use a bit more attention and funding. Keiji explains to Rintarou that she had tried to turn the fan on, but it creaked so loudly she felt too scared to let it operate.
“Anyway, what did you call me here for, anyway? And why do I have to go to the gym for it?” Keiji asks.
Rintarou chuckles lazily at her. “Nothing gets past you, huh? I’ll tell you when we get there then.”
There are two gymnasiums in Inarizaki high school, and they accommodate 3 teams that rotate schedules. The Inarizaki Basketball Team has Gym A on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. The Inarizaki Boys Volleyball Team has Gym A on Tuesdays and Fridays, and has Gym B on Thursdays. Rintarou’s team, the Inarizaki Girls Volleyball Team, has Gym B on Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays. At this point, Keiji has formed a civil acquaintanceship with the team in general. They know that when they see her, she’s looking for Rintarou. She’s warranted a casual hey and a polite smile, and she gives it right back, but when Keiji enters Gym B, the girls all turn their eyes on her. Their usually passive faces are decorated with mischievous smiles, and some are looking at her with curious glances. Keiji instantly feels self-conscious, like she just wants to curl into herself and make herself as small as possible. Rintarou, on the other hand, trudges on as if there’s nothing out of the ordinary happening. Keiji keeps close to Rintarou, not wanting to lag behind because she feels too exposed that way. She tugs Rintarou's maroon jacket, but they barely give her an attentive hum as they rifle through their bag as if looking for something.
"What is everybody looking at me for? Did you do something?" Keiji asks in a whisper, her skin crawling from all the attention.
"Found it," Rintarou announces, holding a white envelope in the air. The other members of the team inch closer, attempting to be inconspicuous about it, but Keiji notices anyway. She hides in Rintarou's shadow out of her loath to be perceived.
"What is that?"
"It's a letter for you," Rintarou says and hands her the envelope. It's no longer as crisp as it should be, and the heart sticker that seals it closed has no more adhesion to it.
"It's unsealed. You've read it?" Keiji does not particularly care if it's just Rintarou, but the way their teammates are eavesdropping make her think that they too know what's inside the letter.
"Of course. I had to screen it for malicious intentions before giving it to you. It's safe, so go ahead and read it."
Rintarou notices the hesitant glance Keiji sneaks towards their audience, so they drag her out of the gym along with their bag and shoes. Keiji finally lets out a breath she's been holding once they reach the back of the other gym, far from where the other girls are. Gym A's back area is shaded in the afternoon, with the building casting a shadow against the stone benches and the surrounding metal fence. The boy's team's practice is ongoing, and the bounce of the ball can be distinctly heard from inside. Besides that negligible background noise, it's quiet here, away from the nosy peeking of Rintarou's teammates.
"Okay. We're safe here. Go read it then."
Keiji narrows her eyes at the excitement in Rintarou's voice, deftly disguised as nonchalance, but she knows them well enough to know they're basically vibrating from where they stand. Keiji takes the paper from the envelope and immediately knows what she's holding in her hands.
Dear Akaashi Keiji,
I always see you around the campus with girl's volleyball team #10 at your side. I've always thought you looked beautiful. The boys in this school all prefer girls with longer hair, but they don't have taste because when I see your curls framing your cute face, my heart explodes. I'm sure you'd look even more lovely by my side.
If you'd like to know who I am, please go to the rooftop once school ends on the first day back. I really, really want to talk to you.
Your Secret Admirer,
L
The sound of a phone camera snapping a pic pulls Keiji out of her focus on the letter in her hands. Rintarou snickers as they review the photo, where Keiji is no doubt scowling as she reads the poorly written confession, if it can even be called that.
"So I'm guessing you're not going to be showing up on the rooftop once school ends on the first day back?" Rintarou teases.
Keiji huffs. "I thought you screened the letter for ill intent."
Rintarou laughs. "I did. They didn't seem like they had bad intentions. They're just...misguided?"
"I can write an entire essay on why that letter doesn't deserve acknowledgement. Am I supposed to be grateful that he chose me? Am I supposed to be so overjoyed that I'd do anything to meet him? Don't even mess with me. I'd grow my hair longer out of spite," Keiji rants, folding up the letter and stuffing it back inside the envelope. She opens her book, slides the envelope between the pages and shuts it with an indignant thud.
Rintarou laughs, throwing their head back. Their voice almost reaches the pitch of the final whistle blown in the boys' gym to signal the end of their practice.
"You can be so lethal sometimes; it's funny." Rintarou wipes a fake tear from their face. They sit down on the cool stone bench to talk for a while. Keiji really did miss Rintarou, even though they're snarky and lazy most of the time. It's nice to have a friend she can talk to. Having moved to Hyogo from Tokyo in her first year of high school, she had been lost and lonely in this established ecosystem where everybody already seemed to know everybody. Not to mention she had a difficult time following their Kansai-ben, with how fast their conversations are. To make things worse, Keiji is innately a very shy introvert--not talking unless spoken to, opting out of crowds larger than four people, struggling to initiate conversations with people she's not close with. To put her in a situation where making friends is on hardcore mode is almost cruel. She had almost resigned herself to being friendless for the rest of her high school life until Rintarou descended from the heavens and made her come out of her shell.
Keiji first saw Rintarou inside the old library--peacefully sleeping near an open window where the breeze was gently caressing their hair. Keiji sat in a different table, minding her own business, but she did tap them on the shoulder five minutes before the bell rang to make sure they weren't late for class.
Rintarou had looked at her with narrowed eyes that spooked Keiji and made her think they were pissed at her for waking them up, but then Keiji realized they were just naturally narrow.
"Thanks for waking me up. Don't go telling anyone about this super secret sleeping space, 'kay?"
Keiji had been elated to finally hear someone speak with the same vernacular she does. Out of her excitement, she had forgotten her shyness and asked, "Why sleep here, though? It's a little dusty and stuffy."
"It's quiet, for one. And the window solves most of those things. And now you're here to wake me up before class starts again, so all the more reason to keep sleeping here."
And just like that, a friendship bloomed out of the rotting wood and piling dust of the library.
"Anyway, who gave you this letter anyway?" Keiji asks.
"Hm? Oh, the boy's volleyball team's captain gave it to me, saying it's from one of the members."
Keiji's eyes bulge as she realizes just where she is at the moment, and how the boy's volleyball team is now spilling out of the gym doors, groaning about their sore muscles and whatnot. The backdoor of the gym starts sliding open, and in her panic, Keiji all but yanks Rintarou to their feet and flees in a hurry from the scene.
Keiji runs like she's never run before, cheeks burning with more than just the exertion of running. Rintarou is cackling behind her like the bitch they are, probably because they've planned this all along. Keiji mentally curses Rintarou inside her head. So much for being a friend!
They finally come to a stop at the school gates, with Rintarou dramatically hunched over Keiji as they catch their breath. The sun is just starting to set, bathing Hyogo in an orange glow. There are athletes pouring out of the gymnasiums, and Keiji tries desperately to hide behind Rintarou’s form.
“Damn. You know, Keiji, I keep telling you. We could really use those long legs of yours in the team,” Rintarou muses.
“I hate you, you know that?” Keiji pouts, but Rintarou only laughs at her expense.
“You know, the usual reaction that people would have when they find out that someone has a crush on them is to gush and try to find out who that person is so they could date them.” Rintarou, as usual, takes the lead and starts walking home. Keiji follows suit, matching their slow pace.
“I’m not...really interested in boys,” Keiji says shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear.
Rintarou nearly trips over their feet. They swivel their head, giving Keiji a full blast of their incredulous eyes and asks, “Girls then?”
Keiji blushes a furious red and vehemently shakes her head. “No, not like that! Or...I don’t know, maybe? I’m not completely dismissing the possibility, but...shut up, Rin, that’s not the point!”
Rintarou laughs again, and at this point in their friendship, Keiji is convinced that Rintarou just really likes to make fun of her.
“I meant that real boys can be disappointing. I find them...immature, I guess? Perhaps I feel unsafe with the way they seem so volatile and just...bursting with energy,” Keiji carefully explains. It’s not something she’s thought about often. She’s not really the type of person to dream about boys and keep her eyes out for someone who could be deemed worthy of a crush. Despite that, though, she has enjoyed her fair share of romance novels, but maybe it’s given her unrealistic standards for the kind of person she’d want in her life.
“Huh. So what is your type then?”
Keiji kicks a pebble off the street as she mulls over her type. First and foremost, she’d like someone who matches her energy--someone level headed and smart. Maybe someone more street smart than book smart to compensate for her lack of know-how in a lot of things. She’d like someone who’s a great conversationalist, but also thrives in silence, because she runs out of social battery easily, and there are occasions where she’d rather sit in peace than say a single word. Then she’d like someone who also loved to read. Someone who isn’t afraid to say that they’ve read fairy tales and poetry and cheesy novels about first loves.
A name pops up in Keiji’s mind as she thinks of the traits she’d like in a man--a name she’s read multiple times on the logs on the back of every book she’s borrowed from the school library lately. Someone who has read the same books she has, and perhaps have read even more, considering how they always seem to beat her into borrowing said books.
Rintarou’s mischievous face pops up suddenly right in front of her. “Oho? What, you’ve got a person in mind already? You’re blushing, you know?”
Keiji’s face contorts into an indignant grimace despite the burn in her cheeks. “I am not!” she says, reaching for her book to hit Rintarou with it--
--only to find out that she doesn’t have it.
“Rin, I forgot my book,” Keiji says worriedly, halting in her steps. They’ve walked a considerable distance away from the campus already, so her blood runs cold at the thought of the book getting damaged under her responsibility. Plus, the loose sheets of paper she had slipped in there earlier were actually drafts of some poems she had been playing around with lately. She’d be absolutely mortified if anyone got their hands on them.
Rintarou scratches the back of their head. “Oh. Should we go back?” they ask, but Keiji knows them well enough to know they’re reluctant about walking all the way back to the campus.
“It’s okay, Rin. I can go get it myself. You must be tired already. Hopefully the boys team have all gone home,” Keiji closes her eyes and mutters the last part like a prayer.
“Okay, Keiji. Sorry I can’t go with you. I’ll just buy you strawberry milk when we see each other again.” Rintarou doesn’t even try to look sheepish about it, to which Keiji mock glares at them.
“You better hold onto that promise! See you!”
Keiji runs all the way back to the campus, all the while thanking her past self that she chose to forgo her usual skirt for baggy cotton shorts. Luckily for her, the guards haven't started locking the gates yet, and she successfully zooms past the entrance. The sky has taken on a more dusky color by now, and if she doesn't hurry, she'll only have a harder time finding her book in the dark. She heads first to the girls' gym, where she hopes, hopes, hopes is the place she'd left her book in. But the area is entirely empty, and only then does Keiji remember that she had read the love letter behind Gym A, and oh my god, the letter is between the pages of her book too!
Keiji quietly groans in frustration and walks briskly toward the boy's gym, wishing to all the stars in the sky that there is no one left within the vicinity. She's almost 100% sure that she has left it on the stone bench where she and Rintarou had been seated earlier.
Unfortunately, the gods do not pity the likes of Akaashi Keiji, because upon arriving at Gym A's back entrance, there sits a gray haired boy dressed in an Inarizaki school shirt and track pants, and in his hands is the subject of Keiji’s biggest worry.
She nearly faints on site.
Keiji tries to calm herself down. Maybe this guy isn’t so bad--maybe they’re just curious. Keiji herself would read an abandoned book out of curiosity, and she would hand it back if the person who lost it asked for it. That’s what decent human beings do. Keiji watches as the boy flips the page. Maybe he hasn’t seen her poems and the love letter yet. Even so, it’s not like it can just be assumed that those poems are her handiwork--maybe she could reason that it’s from her secret admirer as well, or--
Who is she kidding? If he reads that, she’s doomed!
She bounces on her heels and psyches herself up to talk to this stranger and politely ask for her book back. It’s okay. It’s just asking for a book that’s rightfully hers to take. She has to do it now for damage control or else she’d have to move to a different country or something. She can do this. Go, Keiji! Just approach him!
Keiji makes a few tentative steps and nearly trips over her feet before she makes decisive strides and stops beside the stone bench. The gray haired guy hasn’t noticed her yet, but her heart is already pounding right out of her chest. She takes a big, calming breath and says:
“Excuse me. Is that my book you’re reading?”
Within a split second, a thousand thoughts run over Keiji’s head. Was that too forward? Did she come off as rude? Would this boy be taken aback by her words? Should she have asked more nicely? What if the boy attacks her for being rude, what would she do then?
The gray haired guy turns to her slowly, then back to her book. Wordlessly, he shuts the book and hands it to her. He rises to his feet, slings on his backpack and begins to leave.
“Wait,” Keiji says, surprising both herself and the boy. She fiddles with the fingers firmly clasping the book, betraying her nervousness. Worried that her silent pause might be too long or wasting time, she shyly blurts out, “You didn’t read anything else from here, did you?”
The boy inhales and tilts his head as if in thought, and Keiji waits in bated breath along with him. Rather than directly answering her question, the boy only turns his back to her and says with a nonchalant voice, “Don’t go forgettin’ yer books, now Akaashi Keiji. I’m sure yer knight in shinin’ armor ain’t gonna appreciate ya leavin’ his love letter all over the place.”
Keiji splutters in embarrassment; oh, this is the very thing that she’s been fearing! She can feel her cheeks heating up, and the desire to scream is building up in her lungs.
“It’s--it’s not--” Keiji tries to explain, but the words get caught in her throat .
“ Better not give that poem to L, though. Didn’t even rhyme , ” the guy says and promptly leaves without another look back.
Forget being shy and worried
--she is appalled! This guy did not just read her drafts and love letter, he had the audacity to criticize it and act like he knows better? Oh, forget about caring what this stupid boy thinks of her! He isn’t even worthy to be regarded with politeness and careful words! What an absolute jerk!
Keiji continues to curse out this gray haired boy in her mind as she stomps her way back to her house. She yanks her front door open, grunting when it gets caught on a pebble in the threshold. She shuts it with a petulant force, alarming her cousin who was cooking dinner in the kitchen.
“Keiji? Is everything alright?” Yukie calls from the kitchen, but Keiji, in her anger-fueled fit, ignores her and makes a beeline towards the fridge. She vigorously swings the fridge door open, sifting through leftovers before finally getting her hand on her stress-relieving beverage of choice: strawberry milk.
“ Doesn’t even rhyme, ” she mocks with a botched kansai accent, recalling the pompous way that boy had uttered with his stupid mouth. She slams the door shut, missing the way Yukie jumps and treads heavily back to her room.
“Not all poems have to rhyme, you ugly monkey!”
She tosses the book on her bed, projecting her frustrations over this afternoon’s blunder. She glares at the book as she stabs the milk carton with the provided straw. If looks could kill, she’d have been charged for murder because of the way she’s staring at the offending collection of papers like it had been their fault that she got humiliated by that brainless boy.
After a few sips of milk, her anger devolves into an exasperation toward herself. She picks the book back up, caressing it, as if apologizing for the coldness she’s treated it with, and sits at her study table. She sets the book down on her desk, gently this time, and opens it to the page where she had wedged the sources of her suffering.
She slips the envelope in the space between the books in her shelf, where it’ll probably be forgotten until she stumbles upon it unintentionally one day. As for her loose sheets of non-rhyming words, she reviews it to see if she really had written something embarrassing. She silently reads:
Should I Must I be cursed with such misfortune
Of running into coming across your name
For I cannot can no longer pass
For a day can no longer pass
Without thinking of who you might be
Would these little buds of curiosity bloom
Into the burning red of roses and fire (???)
Or would they shrivel and wither
Once I When I meet you at last?
Perhaps I have made
Perhaps I have turned you into a person
I have made you into someone wise,
Someone perfect, in the bounds of my mind
I fear that your shining armor may come with rust
And but I hope that in earnest that you come
Bearing sunlight for my growing this flower(?) (seedling?) I grow
Keiji props her elbows on the table and runs her fingers through her wind-mussed hair. Was her poem really so terrible? But she shakes her head with conviction. No, the opinion of a boy who can’t even appreciate free-verse poems does not matter. And it’s not as if she had written it for this L guy anyway!
She turns her book over and opens the very last page, where a library card is sealed inside a manila envelope adhered onto the paper. She opens the flap and slips out the card. Her eyes scan over the short list of names, all dated in wide intervals, before stopping on the one right above hers--
Miya Osamu.
She brings her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on them. She then wonders--Miya Osamu must be someone who is knowledgeable about the freeing feeling of literature; what would he think of this poem that she had written with him in mind?
“Better not give it to him, huh…” Keiji thinks out loud. She buries her face in her knees. Perhaps the ugly monkey is right about one thing.
___
The day of their return to school arrives and Keiji has completely forgotten about the love letter. Rintarou, however, doesn't seem to be willing to free Keiji from her misery.
“So you’re really not gonna give him the time of day?” Rintarou asks, walking alongside her. They’ve lucked out this year and ended up in the same class as each other, so they can take their time walking to their classroom.
“No. If I’ve forgotten all about him in the span of three days, then he must not be worthy of my attention,” Keiji replies, as detached as can be.
Rintarou snickers. “Do you have any idea who it might be, at least?”
Keiji shakes her head and deftly dodges some roughhousing boys in the hallway. “I don’t really know anyone from the boys volleyball team.”
“Damn,” Rintarou comments. “They’re literally the most popular people in school. The other students worship the ground they walk on.”
“I don’t really care. I’m upset that they get way more funding than you guys. I get that they’ve gone to nationals and all, but I’m sure you guys would too if the admins actually give you more attention.”
“Heh, Keiji. This is why I love you,” Rintarou crookedly grins. Keiji rolls her eyes but smiles back.
In actuality, Keiji thinks she has heard of some names floating around, what with the boys volleyball team being so popular. It's just that she has never particularly taken interest in them, so their names barely even make a pitstop in her head, much less stick around and establish an abode in there.
Moreover, there is still Keiji's subconscious aversion to boys in general. Athletes, according to observations that she's made in passing, are notoriously more rambunctious than normal boys. Steering clear from that chaos would be a wise choice to make if she wants to have a stress-free last year of high school.
A memory of a horribly written letter flashes in her mind, and she immediately stamps it out with an annoyed huff. No matter who this L might be, she's never going to give him the time of day.
The bell rings, class starts and so begins another season of learning. Keiji likes studying, so she's not like the other students bemoaning their lack of freedom, but there's something else about school that makes her skin crawl. Keiji watches with apprehensive tension as their adviser distributes a small slip of paper to every student. She hides her hands under the table once their teacher approaches her area to mask her nervousness. Their adviser is passive enough not to notice, but Rintarou, who is sitting behind her, gives her a tap on the shoulder.
"What's up with you?"
Keiji shakes her head and doesn't reply.
"Please fill out those forms and submit them to me before the day ends. Take note that this is just a preliminary assessment, and it doesn't really have any finality. We, as your instructors, just want to know if you have already started thinking about your future…"
Keiji drones out the rest of their monologue. She's heard it so many times since the start of their last year of high school. And despite the fact that she studies well and has a positive attitude towards school, she isn't like most of the other kids who are already so sure of who they want to become. Even Rintarou already has a plan to go to college and continue playing volleyball, even go pro if the opportunity presents itself. Her classmates are all talking about taking over their family businesses; some are planning to move to Tokyo; some have already taken entrance exams in the universities of their choice.
Keiji is privileged in the way that she has a choice; she isn't in a financially tight spot that she'd need to find a job as fast as she can. Her parents, who are both working in America, are willing to support her in any career path she chooses. Being an only child, she's the sole person that her parents have to raise, so even if she ends up not choosing anything, she can still live a relatively okay life in full dependence on her parents.
Keiji's so blessed that it's almost shameful that she hasn't made up her mind yet. She clutches the small piece of paper in her hand in an anxious grip. She has until the afternoon to decide.
The day passes way too quickly for Keiji, but she supposes it's because she's been dreading the afternoon's arrival. Rintarou has gone ahead to attend practice, having already passed her career slip that lunch time. Students are already piling out of the building, but her feet are stuck on the floor in front of her shoe locker. Her career slip rests heavy in her pocket as if it were a stone rather than paper.
Maybe she shouldn't make too big of a deal out of this; her adviser had said it was merely a preliminary assessment, and that they didn't have to be completely sure. But Keiji hates failing assessments. She needs to be able to defend her actions at all times. If she made up some ludicrous dream and submitted it to her teacher, how would she handle their gentle coaxing to give up on it? If she fails to submit, how can she explain herself?
In the end, she can no longer make a choice. She's been stuck so long in place that most of the faculty members and all the other students have gone. She stands alone, deep in thought, regret and annoyance directed towards herself.
It's too late. She's probably gone home by now, Keiji thinks as she finally decides to take a step towards the exit. Normally, she would berate herself for letting things get to this point, but her brain is all fried trying to force herself to make a decision. She decides to be a little kinder to herself this time.
She instead lets her mind wander on her way home. It's almost peaceful; she can feel every breath of air she makes; there's a certain clarity in her head that's not usually there. It's like her cranium is made of glass that's thick enough to blur out the world and muddle all sounds. Her feet operate on autopilot, taking her to the general direction of her house.
She appreciates the nice weather. Maybe it's the universe' way of consoling her. A refreshing breeze passes her and ruffles her hair, so she reaches up to fix it. As she does, her school bag slips off her shoulder. The sudden thud it makes startles a little critter from the nearby alley, consequently startling Keiji as well.
“Oh, I’m sorry, little one,” Keiji says, even though the damage has been done and there’s no way the animal would understand her anyway. “Are you alright?”
Slowly, as if shy and cautious, a tiny head peeks out of the wall and looks up at Keiji. A shabby looking calico cat stares up at him, all curious and sweet-looking, with large, round pupils surrounded by a ring of sharp gold.
“Aren’t you a precious thing,” Keiji swoons, crouching down to seem more approachable. She extends a hand, and almost immediately, as if it had no prior reservations about going near Keiji, it rubs its body along her arm, her knees and her shoes.
“There’s no way you’re just a stray if you’re this sweet,” Keiji muses. She looks for a collar under its matted fur, only to come up empty.
“You poor thing. Did you run away from home? Your hair’s all rough and your skin is showing. Don’t you know how to take care of yourself?” Keiji chides gently, not wanting to scare the kitty away.
Then the cat’s ears perk up and it starts to walk away from Keiji. Curious--and also a little offended that it had lost interest in her so quickly--Keiji follows the cat. She wonders if it’s going to return to its owner's home and decides that maybe she should tag along just in case.
The cat walks a straight line all the way to the next street where it makes a right turn and continues in that direction. It seems to have a set destination in mind, which makes Keiji more confident that it might be heading towards its home. The cat suddenly stops at an intersection, and just as Keiji was about to suspect that it had no place in mind after all, a car passes by, catching Keiji off-guard. In her near-cardiac arrest moment of alarm, she gawks in awe at the cat who was smart enough to wait before crossing the street almost as if it was rational.
Keiji continues to follow the calico, which leads her to all sorts of passageways that a human can’t really pass through. Despite the tight squeezes and the numerous times she nearly lost the cat, she manages to stay on its heels, determined to see where it may lead her. At some point, it stops becoming a mission to find its owner and more of an exciting adventure, like the cat was some sort of deity leading her on a quest. It takes her through a maze of narrow alleys and through a thorny path lined with intertwining bushes of blackberries. It makes her climb over a metal fence with a no entry sign on full display. It makes her crouch under low hanging canopies. At the end of their little expedition, the cat finally enters a humble property that Keiji initially mistakes for a house. Upon closer inspection, there seems to be a dilapidated sign hung above the doorway. Its colors have become dull and dreary with age and weathering, and it blended inconspicuously into the grey, light brown and tea green of the building, but Keiji can read the characters just fine.
Kita’s Rice Cake and Tea Shop
The calico walks almost haughtily into the front porch of the shop as if it owns the place and comes to settle on the wooden engawa.
Keiji stands dumbly in front of the cat who has taken it upon itself to curl up and start napping. Now that she looks at the cat again in its relaxed state, it seems like it had never actually been a lost cat in the first place. Suddenly, the spell is broken and Keiji is pulled harshly back into reality. She’s in a place she has never been before; none of the establishments in the streets seem familiar to her, nor can she remember the way back. She could ask Yukie to pick her up, but she doesn’t get off work for another hour and a half, and much worse, she doesn't even know what to say if she asks her where she is. She doubts that the cat would graciously lead her back to where she found it.
Keiji sighs and crouches in front of the cat once more.
"Well, it was fun while it lasted. You got me all lost, though. This is your fault."
The calico opens one golden eye to mock her before snuggling back into itself.
Keiji scoffs, but her ire is softened by her endearment towards the cat's intelligence. "You were so sweet a while ago too!"
"Who is?"
A new voice startles Keiji and makes her lose balance. She falls to her bottom and immediately, an elderly woman who's quite sprightly for her age assists her in getting up and patting the dirt off her skirt and socks.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Ma'am. I'm sorry," Keiji says frantically, afraid that she might've troubled the old lady.
"Dear, what ever are ya sorry for? Ya didn't do anythin' wrong. I'm sorry for startlin' ya,"
Keiji sheepishly shifts her weight. "O-oh. I'm sor--thank you, Ma'am."
"Would ya like to come inside? I'll prepare some tea for ya. Don't worry 'bout payin'; consider it reparations for hurtin' ya."
Keiji would politely decline, but the lady is already heading inside to prepare tea and standing any longer outside seems more rude than accepting it. So she counts the coins in her wallet and prays she has enough for a cup of tea.
The inside of the shop isn't quite what Keiji imagined when she read its sign. The tea shops she's seen in the thick of the city are often tiny stalls with packs of tea on display or those fancy places for traditional tea ceremonies where tourists seek to immerse themselves with foreign culture. Here, drinking tea seems to be a communal activity or pastime. The low tables are situated in the same spacious room with little spaces in between to accommodate more people. Each table is surrounded by pillows on each side, and from her periphery, Keiji sees more pillows stacked neatly at the corner of the room. The tatami they walk on is worn and pliable, as though it has endured many footsteps over the years. Everything about Kita's Rice Cakes and Tea Shop tells a story of how it has been a place for gathering for a long time; here, tea drinking was not merely a noncommittal, nonchalant buy-consume operation, nor is it a faraway culture that you try for the experience. Here, it is part of their everyday; it is mundane; it is nothing novel. Keiji's chest aches in wonder. How beautiful it is that the empty shop can tell so many stories from a single look.
"Are you closed for today, Ma'am?" Keiji asks shyly. She doesn't want to cause any more trouble than she already has.
"Oh yes, dear. My grandson is pickin' up the goods from the farm and my handsome li'l workers have something keepin' 'em busy for a while so I decided to close the store for now." The lady walks limberly towards a simple setup where she kneels and pours Keiji's tea. It seems like it has been already prepared prior to their first meeting. That thought eases a little bit of the guilt weighing on Keiji's shoulders.
"But if I'm bein' real honest, I'd rather work than spend the day in silence. It gets rather boring," the lady continues. She's chatty, but not in an overbearing way. There is a certain pacing in her words that makes her words easy to swallow. Keiji gets the feeling that if she were to launch on a whole spiel about tea and running a shop and whatnot, it'd be just as oddly comforting.
"That's why it ain't any trouble for ya to come in 'ere. I'd rather have ya around than stay here without a companion."
Keiji smiles. The lady is kind and there is zero chance of her being a murderer based on her--as Rintarou would say--vibes. Perhaps it will be easier to ask for directions back to her house.
"I see, Ma'am. Thank you for this tea," Keiji says as she accepts the cream colored ceramic from the lady's wrinkled, but strong hands. She takes a sip. She has never been a fan of tea--always found it too bland or lacking any real depth. She finds milk tea with tapioca a far better treat than regular old tea. But Keiji imagines that all the other tea she has ever tried before is fake and merely an imitation of what this could be. Because she's pretty sure this is what tea should taste like--flavorful and so distinctly tea-- not just leaf-flavored water.
"I've never had tea like this before," Keiji says, and it's difficult to hide the amazement in her voice. She goes for a second sip. She's not going to lie and say that she likes it. Tea just really isn't her thing. But she can appreciate its warmth and its novelty, and in the middle of a foreign neighborhood that she has no sense of direction in, she can appreciate its hospitality.
The old lady chuckles, and it's a hearty thing that rises from the depths of her chest. It confuses Keiji because it almost sounds like she's laughing at her instead of pleasantly giggling over a compliment.
"I take it ya don't care much for tea?"
Keiji blushes. Has she been that easy to read? "I--I don't usually drink tea, but I swear, I can tell that yours is really special."
The old lady laughs again, but Keiji can't find it in her to be offended.
The old lady stands up, pushing off of her knees to straighten her slightly curved back. "Well, ya don't have to force yerself to finish it if ya don't like it. I'll just go pack you some rice cakes and then I'll tell ya how to get back to yer house."
Keiji blinks. How had she known she was lost?
"Next time, you come in and ask me for directions instead of blamin' the poor old cat outside," the lady says with a snicker, to which Keiji blushes profusely.
Out of courtesy, Keiji decides to drink all of her tea. By the time the nice old lady returns with a plastic bag of wrapped rice cakes, Keiji has finished doing math and has counted the right amount of money to pay for all she's been offered. However, the old lady merely waves her off with a smile and says, "Don't even think about payin'. We ain't open anyway--think of it as a nice snack from Kita-obaachan."
"Kita-obaachan…" Keiji repeats automatically, before she realizes she hasn't introduced herself at all. "Oh! I'm Akaashi Keiji!"
Keiji gives Kita-obaachan her address and with a quick jotting of notes, she is ready to go on her merry way home.
"Don't be a stranger, Keiji-kun! Come again anytime ya want. My doors will always be open, even when we're closed."
There's an unmistakable warmth to be felt in the kindness in her voice and in the mirth in her eyes. Kita-obaachan is small and a little hunched, but her presence is big, and the energy she radiates is able to fill a whole room. Keiji's eyes land once again on the slumbering cat on her way out. It has truly led her to some sort of deity or fairy--Keiji can't imagine any human person being that nice.
On her way back home, she tries to engrave the path inside her mind. Kita-obaachan's instructions are clear and straightforward, so Keiji gives herself a little bit of leeway to not focus so intently on walking and instead take in the scenery. She has never been around these parts, so it almost feels like she's a dog sniffing about with all the new smells around her. It's amazing how much lighter her head feels now. Perhaps that tea had been laced with some magic potion to relax her, or that Kita-obaachan may actually be a fairy godmother that cast a spell on her. Either way, Keiji's mood has significantly improved, and although the weight of her unaccomplished career slip bores through her pocket, Keiji decides that it can wait a little longer.