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"Dreams are a reflection of our heart's truest desires, cast inside a world full of illusion and folley."
Words are far more powerful than anyone truly realizes.
They are not a physical item you can hold in your hands, nor are they a visible phenomenon that you can explain with your eyes.
Words hold great power, becoming more potent and fierce the better you are with them.
The more you understand the power of words, the more you can do with them.
There are people who use words as a shield, while others use words as a weapon, cutting down their foes with quick and powerful strikes. There are even those who utilize the power of words to manipulate those around them, the most skilled able to do so without anyone ever noticing a thing.
Even the most resilient person can be disarmed with words, provided that the wielder knows just what words to use.
And yet, despite how powerful words are in the world, there are times where you just can't use them how you'd like. There are moments where you want to convey something, but you can't do it with words.
There are times where words are too strong, too cumbersome to use despite not having a physical shape or form.
It's rare, almost inconsequential moments to some, however, to (F/n), there are many moments where she's more comfortable to do without them.
But how do you convey without the mutual tool used by everyone else?
It was a cool, early autumn afternoon in downtown Tokyo, and a Friday, no less. The sun was a gentle caress against the cooler winds, drawing cats to sunbake, and children to play in the quiet streets.
The tall trees that stood proudly in the quiet streets were beginning to turn with autumn-coloured foliage, a vibrant sign to many that winter was beginning to approach. Many still held green leaves closer to their trunks, however in a matter of weeks, the leaves would all turn and fall from their branches.
It was a season that (F/n) found herself rather fond of, despite the fact that she wasn't comfortable with the cold.
(F/n) watched the autumn-clad world from the window of a cafe, just opposite a park adorned with many autumn-foliage trees. It was an European-style cafe, painted in soft earthen colours with polished wood floors, and comfortable armchairs around coffee tables. The soft smell of freshly ground coffee filled the air inside the quaint building, along with the faint scent of vanilla mixing with it.
Sitting in the booth at the furtherest table from the front door, (F/n) sat with her back to the wall, her chin propped up on an upturned hand as she watched the light slowly change colour outside, her other arm set comfortably on the table in front of her.
(F/n) attended a public school very close to this cafe, however due to her quiet disposition, she didn't really have what she'd refer to as proper friends. There were a couple of girls that were more of the fair-weather kind, but other than that, (F/n) was alone for the most part.
It didn't necessarily bother her; She rathered the comfort of nature and a quiet peace undisturbed by cumbersome words.
(F/n) came to this quaint little cafe at least twice a week. Every Wednesday and Friday afternoon, she was here by 4pm, and she whiled away the time until the sun had set and the world was illuminated by artificial light created by humans. During exam weeks, (F/n) would be here every afternoon to study, and once the tedious weeks were over, she'd return to her twice-a-week routine. She'd also visit if she had a stressful day at school, or if her parents were working away that night.
Due to (F/n)'s regular visits, the booth she was currently sitting at was unofficially reserved just for her, and most of the staff knew her by name. There had been a couple of times where (F/n) had arrived to find every table occupied except for her one in the corner, with a small laminated card with the word 'Reserved' written on it.
Absent-mindedly, (F/n)'s fingers traced the edges of an illustrated book left open on the table in front of her. An Encyclopedia on the Language of Flowers, opened up to page 303-304. A detailed illustration of a Marigold plant in bloom stood out proudly on page 303, with detailed descriptions and symbolism written on page 304.
(F/n) held a great fascination for plants and flowers, in particular she was drawn to the language of flowers. There were many different depictions and meanings for each flower in the world, and it drew her into learning about it all on her own.
There were so many things that flowers conveyed. Abandonment, joy, childish love, hatred, revenge, and then there was what the Marigold meant in some cultures; Pain and Grief.
However (F/n) found herself alone in this fascination – It appeared that nobody around her found any interest in the subtle ways of conveying without the use of cumbersome words.
It was an understanding that she had long since become used to.
That didn't mean she had given up hope of someday meeting someone who would understand.
(F/n)'s Grandmother had once told her that she had come to this world far too late. She was born to a world that had eventually forgotten the gentle kindness of subtle messages in preference for power and domination.
That was a month ago, and since then, (F/n)'s Grandmother had passed away, leaving the soft-spoken girl alone in a cumbersome world. She always thought about the snow-haired woman whenever her mind would wander from the monotonous grinding of day-to-day life. Always wondering how the world looked from up in heaven.
It always ended up bringing her here, where the atmosphere was tranquil enough for her to regain her senses, and realign her state of mind, once again.
All of a sudden, (F/n) was alerted to the presence of another, jostling her out of her daydream and dragging her gaze from the world outside.
It came in the form of a voice, one that she was unfamiliar with.
'Good afternoon.' A kind and gentle voice spoke up from just next to (F/n)'s booth, drawing the girl's gaze to it's owner. 'Would I be correct in assuming your name is (L/n)-san?'
The owner of the voice turned out to be a boy, clad in the Barista's uniform of black dress pants, a long-sleeved, button up white shirt, and a black waist-coat. He had black hair to just below his ears, with two antennae-like tufts protruding from the top of his head, and kind, gold eyes. He appeared to be around (F/n)'s own age, though there was something in his eyes that had her wonder if he was older, despite this.
She found herself staring into a pair of eyes that were kind beyond his years, and she was momentarily transfixed.
'U-umm ...' The boy seemed to become a little uncomfortable with (F/n)'s frozen state, the sheepish smile that crept in place just enough to snap her out of her daze.
'Oh – I'm very sorry.' (F/n) apologized, and it was here that she noticed he was holding a waiters tray with one hand. 'I didn't mean to stare – I was just ...'
The kind-eyed boy smiled at (F/n), and contrary to his appearing age, there was understanding in the small gesture.
'I understand. I must have startled you.' He surmised, almost knowingly, causing (F/n) to nod meekly. 'Would you happen to be (L/n)-san?'
'Y-yes, that's right ...' (F/n) responded, a little uncertain of what was going on right now.
Comprehension glimmered in his bright eyes at her response, and a larger, more kind smile appeared across his rather attractive face.
'So you're our most regular customer, (L/n) (F/n)-san.' He spoke, seeming pleased that he knew who she was now.
Confused, but not in any mood to question him about that remark, (F/n) merely tilted her head to the right ever so slightly.
'I've been told your usual order is a Vanilla Latte with Strawberry Shortcake, is that right?' He asked her.
(F/n) nodded meekly, once again.
The boy smiled brightly despite her lack of vocal response, unloading what (F/n) immediately recognized to be her regular order onto the table with experienced, stable movements. Even though she had never seen him before, (F/n) could immediately tell that he had obviously worked here for some time.
Perhaps he normally worked weekends, which were days she rarely visited.
'If there's anything else I can help with, please feel free to ask.' The boy told her as he straightened up, tucking the tray beneath an arm as (F/n) blinked up at him.
'Thank you ...' (F/n) spoke quietly.
The gold-eyed boy cast her a warm smile before he turned to head back to the counter, leaving (F/n) to turn her gaze to the shortcake and latte sitting neatly on the table next to her encyclopedia.
(F/n) couldn't seem to get that look out of her head, and for what was probably the first time in many weeks, (F/n) shut her encyclopedia and carefully packed it away. She leaned back in the booth seat, taking furtive glances towards the counter, however she couldn't see any sign of the strange boy.
He might be tending to other customers.
So (F/n) let out a small breath, and lifted the simple white mug with her slender hands to take a sip.
At first (F/n) was a little surprised to find that the mug wasn't as hot as it normally would be, nor was the warm-coloured liquid inside. It didn't scald her lips at first, nor did it aggravate what her mother called a cat's tongue. It was the right temperature for her, and as she actually took a sip, she found that it tasted different to normal as well.
Sweeter, but not with the aftertaste that sugar would give it.
(F/n) looked down at the mug of creamy liquid in her hands, utterly surprised by the differences from normal.
However soon she smiled sweetly as she took another sip, and inwardly felt a little saddened by the fact that she hadn't asked the kind boy for his name when he was still here.
Following that day, there were many others where (F/n) would stop in like clockwork, and the same boy would greet her every time. He would bring her usual order out for her with that same smile, never seeming disheartened by her lack of vocal responses, and he always seemed very happy whenever she'd break her rather meek silence to actually speak a few words.
It was two weeks since she'd first met the boy when she finally got up the courage to ask his name.
Hesitant, furtively looking away, (F/n)'s words tumbled over themselves like she was struggling to ask a crush out. She remembered the sudden elation that seemed to overcome the boy when she had finally managed to ask. It was a reaction greatly similar to giving a small child a piece of candy. His eyes lit up, his smile seemed to become almost excited with glee, and he turned to face her properly.
He immediately told her his name was Isogai Yuuma, and he was in his final year at Kunugigaoka Middle School, which officially made him the same year-group as (F/n).
(F/n) had heard stories about what it was like at Kunugigaoka Middle School, and pieces began to fit into place inside her head as the boy called Isogai bid her farewell in order to return to his duties.
She had a Senpai just one year older than her, who happened to live next-door to her. He had been placed in what was called Class E for his final year, and while he didn't tell her very much, he had mentioned that it was hell for anyone put in Class E.
The End Class, the other people would call them.
She vaguely recalled hearing at one point that her Senpai had been saved from being bullied by a boy with flaming red hair right at the end of the school year. By a boy in her own year-group, her Senpai had told her. He had been worried that the boy who saved him had been punished for his actions – In fact, her Senpai was almost certain that the boy had been put in Class E as well.
(F/n) often wondered what class Isogai was in for his final year at Kunugigaoka.
Was he just barely scraping by in the other classes? Or had he been discarded cruelly into Class E as a scapegoat?
If it was the latter, then maybe that was part of the reason why his eyes were kind well beyond his years?
Since that afternoon, (F/n) visited the Cafe every Monday along side her Wednesday and Friday visits. She wanted to learn more about the boy with the kind eyes.
And it appeared he wanted to learn more about her, as well.
Every afternoon (F/n) visited, he was there. Almost like clockwork, he greeted her as she walked through the door with a bright smile that seemed to be reserved just for her. (F/n) would settle down in her booth and pull out her plant books to read, and before long, Isogai would approach with her order made in just the same way every time.
He would ask her just one question every time, and then he would give her a small tidbit of information voluntarily out of understanding that despite being curious, she wasn't fond of words enough to actually ask him anything. Innocent questions that didn't mean much unless one strung many of them together to create a larger picture.
Her favorite colour, her favorite time of day, her favorite genre of music. He'd even asked her why she was always reading her flower encyclopedia, too. They were all very simple questions that were subtle in their own way, and yet over time they eventually painted a picture.
It was also possible that it was a way for him to slowly ease her out of her shell.
(F/n) had learned that Isogai has a brother and a sister, both younger than him, a best friend who had a validated reputation for being a playboy in every sense of the word, and yet he was still one of the nicest people you could ever meet. She had also learned that Isogai was the male Representative for Class E at Kunugigaoka, and yet he was happier being in that class than when he was at the main campus.
(F/n) had also learned that Isogai's homeroom teacher was a bit of a strange man, but kind never the less.
It was an afternoon where all the trees had shed their autumn coats by the time (F/n) had gained enough courage to ask Isogai another question by her own volition. The regular little exchanges and kind smiles had brought strange emotions to her, ones that brought warmth to her face spontaneously, and brought fluttering sensations to the pit of her stomach. Despite her meek manner with words, (F/n) wasn't dense.
She understood what these sensations were, because her fair-weather friends at school were often talking about such things when they weren't gossiping about other things. She understood enough to know what the cause of those sensations actually was.
It was as Isogai had set her regular order on the table for her that she managed to break her meek silence. With words tumbling over themselves, yet again, (F/n) managed to as the question that had begun to plague her mind.
'Wh-what ... High school are you applying for, Isogai-kun?' She managed to ask, causing the kind-eyed boy to snap his gaze up to look at her.
His eyes were widened with many emotions that (F/n) could vaguely read.
He looked torn between shock at her out of the blue question, and ecstatic that she'd actually asked something of him. There was hesitance there, too, much like he was uncertain of whether he wanted to actually tell her.
However he eventually settled with the same enthusiasm he wore the last time she broke her silence willingly, and the tiniest touch of colour lit his face.
'I'm applying for all of the University-route High Schools.' Isogai explained as he straightened up, tucking the serving tray beneath an arm as (F/n) blinked owlishly at him. 'My Teacher seems to think I can get into any school I want if I work hard enough, so I might as well go the extra mile and apply for them all.'
(F/n) nodded silently, inwardly feeling a little disheartened by the answer she had received.
'What about you, (L/n)-san?' Isogai asked her with that same enthusiasm. 'What schools are you applying for?'
(F/n) was silent at first, a small breath escaping her as she looked away for a few seconds.
'I umm ... I don't really know.' (F/n) eventually said, wringing her hands in her lap as she found herself becoming rather depressed by the question. 'I don't really do well in school, so I'll probably end up working, instead...'
It was a truthful answer, and about as far into it as (F/n) was willing to divulge right now.
She didn't want to look up at Isogai to see what look he was giving her.
'I understand.' Isogai spoke up all of a sudden, his tone remarkably bright despite the rather depressed air that had overcome (F/n). 'School isn't for everyone, so I wouldn't worry too much about it, (L/n)-san.'
She looked up in time to see him cast her an encouraging smile, before he began to head back to the counter.
The smile unfortunately didn't help (F/n)'s mood, and silently, she resumed her had-been ritual of staring absent-minded outside at the greying skies, for what was the first time in weeks.
Then, the very next day (F/n) came to the cafe, she could see no sign of Isogai at all.
Her mood was already sombre after her fair-weather friends had decided to avoid her all morning, and finding that there was no warm smile to greet her depressed her all the more. Her friends had expressed bemusement over (F/n)'s refusal to join them at a party, and they hadn't spoken to her since then.
(F/n) gave a small nod of the head to one of the other workers as they waved to her, and took up her regular place within the cafe, her fingers gently prying her schoolbooks from her bag as the sounds of familiar clinking echoed.
All of a sudden, the door of the cafe suddenly swung open, a pleasant toned ringing echoing in response.
'I'm sorry I'm late!' Isogai's voice called out all of a sudden, causing (F/n) to blink in surprise. She looked up to see him quickly walk to the counter, in the school uniform belonging to Kunugigaoka Middle School. He looked a little rushed, like something hadn't gone in his favor, and he had lost track of time.
It was the first time (F/n) had ever seen such a look across Isogai's face, and she guessed that the both of them probably weren't having a very good day.
(F/n) returned her gaze to her schoolbooks with a small sigh, reading through the small notes she'd added to the pages here and there over the past few months. End of term exams were coming up soon, and (F/n) didn't want to get the lowest score out of her class, again.
She honestly doubted there was any point in trying anymore, however.
(F/n)'s fingers traced the edges of her geography book, her eyes staring unfocused at the pages beneath her arm.
'Good afternoon, (L/n)-san.' Echoed a warm and familiar voice all of a sudden, startling (F/n) out of her daze.
Turning her head to look at her favorite person, (F/n) found herself a little surprised.
Instead of standing at the side of the table like he always did, Isogai was in the process of actually sitting down opposite her. He was also in his school uniform still.
However he was wearing that bright smile of his, as if he was suddenly very happy about something.
'I-Isogai-kun?' (F/n) spoke out in confusion, her eyes widening in her surprise. 'Aren't you working, today?'
'I thought I was, to be honest.' Isogai responded with a sheepish edge touching his smile as he leant back in the booth chair. 'It turns out that the Manager wanted me to have some time off, so she picked today.'
'O-oh ...' (F/n) cast a sheepish smile to Isogai as she absorbed that explanation.
Isogai seemed to glance down at the text-books on the table, before looking back at (F/n) with a smile.
'Are you studying for end of term exams, (L/n)-san?' Isogai asked her.
'It's ... more like I was thinking about it.' (F/n) responded with an uncertain smile.
Kind understanding appeared across Isogai's face as he said 'Do you have trouble studying, (L/n)-san?'
'Somewhat.' (F/n) responded with a small sigh as she lowered her gaze back to her books. 'It's more like I have trouble actually understanding what we're supposed to be learning. Maths is a nightmare on any day.'
'Then, would you like me to help?' He offered.
(F/n) was silent at first, not quite comprehending what it was he meant by that.
'U-umm ... help?' She questioned, lifting her gaze to look up at him. 'What do you mean?'
For some reason, Isogai seemed to smile a little more, but in a rather whimsical manner.
'I need to start studying for end of term exams too. I'd be more than happy to study with you, if it would help?' He then flashed her a rather hopeful smile.
(F/n) blinked silently for a couple of seconds, before she nodded ever so slightly.
Even if the efforts were all in vain for her, (F/n) was still thankful that she could spend this time with Isogai.
She was rather touched by the fact that he would offer.
'Thank you ...' (F/n) spoke softly, a small smile touching her lips as she furtively glanced away from Isogai. 'I would like that...'
The elated smile he'd wear whenever she actually went out of her way to ask him something flashed across his face, and that faint shade of colour touched his cheeks.
'Then are you free tomorrow afternoon? We can study here, if you'd like?' Isogai asked her eagerly.
Meek but with a smile, (F/n) nodded her head.
'Great! Then I'll--' Isogai began, however a sudden chiming echoed from his pocket.
Blinking in surprise, Isogai lifted his phone from his pocket to glance upon the screen.
'O-oh, I'm sorry, (L/n)-chan,' He apologized as he looked up at her from his phone, a slightly disenheartened look touching dancing in his eyes as he smiled sheepishly. 'I'm needed back home, so I've got to leave, now.'
'That's okay.' (F/n) replied, keeping her expression free from the disappointment that was beginning to overcome her. 'I hope everything is alright.'
Isogai flashed her a reassuring smile.
'Everything's fine, but thank you for worrying.' He told her as he lifted himself from the booth seat. 'I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, then?'
'Yeah ... definitely...' (F/n) spoke with the brightest smile she could manage.
Watching as Isogai disappeared to head home, (F/n) had to resist the urge to sigh as she closed her eyes.
That was too short – Way too short for (F/n)'s liking. She wanted to talk to him a bit longer, and she felt her heart squeezing inside her chest as he left.
But if something was going on, then it couldn't be helped.
That didn't mean that (F/n) didn't feel lonely, though.
With the smallest of breaths, (F/n) opened her eyes to look down at her text books.
However her eyes didn't quite get there.
Sitting neatly atop her geography book were three flowers, one a pink, tropical-like flower, one a star-like flower with a soft indigo shade, and the last being a yellow flower with a trumpet-like shape, all tied together with a pale gold ribbon in a bow around the stems. As (F/n) lifted it to appraise their beauty in wonder, she realized what flowers they were.
The pink one was an Azalea, the indigo a Morning Glory, and the yellow a Daffodil.
In Hanakotoba, the Japanese language of the Flowers, the Azalea stood for Patience, Morning Glory stood for Promise and the Daffodil for Respect.
(F/n) stared in awe, a vivid blush beginning to spread across her face as she realized that Isogai had left the flowers for her.
The blush grew tenfold as she realized that he had gotten her those three for a particular reason.
She hadn't even noticed him leave the flowers for her.
And yet (F/n) could only smile and admire the gift.
She couldn't wait for tomorrow afternoon – She couldn't wait to see him again.
(F/n) could only hope that this could be the start of something more.