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It was Valentine’s day at Tracen Academy. With the significance of the holiday, many umas participated in it, but occasionally, it was overlooked: The stress of keeping up with school, the constant training for keeping up with physical ability, and the anticipation of upcoming races all contributed to a small number of students who simply forgot about the holiday altogether.
One of those students was Opera O.
“Keep your head up, my friend! We shall train this weekend, and beat the odds on the center stage of the upcoming race!” Opera O exclaimed, a fierce grin splitting her face and a hand sitting proudly at her hip.
It was late afternoon, and both Opera O and her close friend, Meisho Doto, stood near a bench after classes had ended for the day. Opera was glimmering with pride as she normally was, though it was mostly just a way to cheer up her friend, whose face was clearly scrunched with worry.
Opera worried for her: today, out of any other day, she had acted especially on-edge, which had affected her performance in running around the track. Was the race the following week putting too much stress on her? Was she nervous for her performance again? Such lines of thought had circulated in Opera’s mind all day during school.
The truth was, Doto was on-edge–but not for the reason Opera thought.
Today, she wore her normal uniform, but also sported a large handbag, weighing down at her hip. Opera didn’t know, but within Meisho’s bag was a large bouquet of flowers: they were roses, bought at the market the day before as a gift for Valentine’s day.
She had planned to give them to Opera all day, but hadn’t mustered enough courage to do so.
“T-thanks,” Doto said, nervously twiddling her fingers as she averted her gaze. Opera’s eyes narrowed–that wasn’t the response she was looking for, as her friend still looked nervous. What could possibly be wrong? She thought.
By contrast, Doto’s thoughts were a whirl of worry. Just give them to her now. You’re losing daylight! What if she doesn’t like them? What if you bought them for nothing? But they’ll be for nothing if you don’t give them to her!
Mentally, she tried to flip a coin–either give Opera O the flowers, or do nothing and–
Her thoughts froze when a hand grabbed onto one of hers, the firm grip stopping her from the nervous fidgeting she had done earlier. She looked back at Opera, and their eyes met–Opera’s wide, steady gaze was grounding, and Doto’s anxiety quieted as she looked into it.
“Doto, my friend, what’s troubling you? I must know, please,” Opera pleaded, the fanfare of her previous expression dropped into worried seriousness.
“I–” Doto began, and hesitated for a moment, fearing the worst.
But with the sympathy and emotion in Opera’s unwavering gaze and the firmness of her grip, it occurred to her that if anyone were to accept her gift without judgement, it would be Opera O.
“–I… uh… hold on…” Doto used her free hand to move to her handbag, unclipping the top and reaching inside to take something out. Opera watched curiously, her eyes wide in anticipation.
She didn’t expect that from the handbag would rise a large bouquet of roses, tied together with a pretty bow and taped with a small note.
As she pulled the gift out of her bag, Meisho’s eyes widened. The flowers were no longer in the pristine condition they had been when she had gotten them: The petals were rumpled, some of them crushed, and bits of wilted leaves fell to the ground as the bouquet pushed past the handbag’s opening.
No, she thought, horrified. They’re ruined! In that instant, embarrassment crashed into her like a wave. Of course the flowers were ruined–they had been sitting in her bag all day! How could she have been so stupid? Her words lay stuck in her throat as her stomach twisted itself into a knot of humiliation, and Doto felt her lip begin to tremble in shame. No, she thought, trying to will for tears not to fill her eyes. Don’t cry, not now…
Opera O still stood in front of her, but Doto couldn’t dare look at her face, expecting the worst. But despite the mortifying situation Doto was in, she still had to hand the flowers for Opera O–she had bought them for her, after all.
Meisho Doto tentatively handed the bouquet along with the note to Opera O, her hand trembling. “I got this for you… for um… for Valentine’s day… since that’s today? S-sorry, I–”
Her words were cut off when Opera O let go of her hand and enthusiastically took the flowers from her, eagerly picking off the small paper note and reading it. Oh no, Doto thought anxiously, her hands still shaking. Oh no no no noonono–
It took Opera O about a second to scan it.
She… wants to go out with me? Opera thought. The corners of her mouth tilted up in a smile as a warm feeling bubbled up in her chest. Of course Doto–sweet, sweet Doto–would want to spend more time with her, and in a romantic setting as well?
She had always felt the same, but had never found it in her to bring it up. The fact that Doto was making the first move filled her with an undeniable sense of pride: Doto had miraculously managed to overcome her own fears, and for a reason as all-encompassing as love.
Opera looked back at Meisho Doto, her mouth opening as she was about to speak. In contrast to how Opera felt, Doto’s mind was racing with anxious thoughts.
Please don’t hate me please don’t hate me–
“Oh, Doto…” Opera O wiped a tear of joy from her eye. “What a wonderful message! Your words have truly touched my heart. Why, of course I’ll be your valentine! I would be honored!”
–Please don’t–wait, what?
She took a giant sniff of the flowers, and added, “And these flowers are quite gorgeous. I cannot thank you enough!”
Then, Meisho Doto was suddenly enveloped in a hug, Opera O’s hands wrapping around her and pressing against the fabric of her back. Doto’s then shocked expression melted into relief, though her breathing was still shaky with surprise. A couple moments later, she hugged Opera O back, wrapping her arms around her waist.
“Thank you,” Doto murmured, tears growing in her eyes. She had feared the worst, but ultimately had nothing to worry about: Of course Opera O, with all the enthusiasm she usually had, would hastily accept a gift like this.
“I deeply apologize for forgetting about this holiday,” Opera O said, comfortingly squeezing Meisho Doto as they hugged. “I didn’t have the slightest idea that this was what you were worried about.”
“It’s fine,” Doto assured with a small smile. “You saying yes is everything I could’ve asked for.”