You and I [Completed!]

Plum blossoms

"Sir?"

Arata looked at Akane hidden from view behind the laptop screen.

"Yes?"

She held up a hand over the mouth of the receiver. "We've a call for you. Ayano Nijiima."

He paused, then returned his gaze to the screen. "Tell her I'm not available."

"Sir...?"

"Not. Available."

Akane nodded. "... Yes, ma'am. No, he just left for a meeting. It's urgent? Yes, I'll be sure to convey your message."

His lips pressed together in a firm line. What did she want now?

After office, he slipped into his car, half drenched from the ceaseless rain. The wipers went left and right, lulling him. For a long time Arata stared at the slow movement. Left. Right. Left. Right...

A ring of a cell phone drew his attention to the present. In a sort of torpor he received the call.

"Arata Miyama."

There was silence on the end, then a soft voice spoke, "Arata."

He stiffened. His fingers moved to the end call button but paused, held back by her next words.

"As you know... I don't know anyone in this city much and... I need a little help. Can we meet up? Please?"

Arata hesitated. He glanced at his watch and caught himself thinking of the cup of coffee between his palm. Soft. Warm.

"Sunday."he said.

"Thank you so much... Despite all I did, you're still willing to help..."

"Sunday." He killed the call.

Soaked with rain, the air felt heavy. Sticky, even. A scent of soil and smelly damp clothes lingered in the school hallways. Dull looking students trudged in and out of their classrooms.

"It's a lazy day." Yukino commented as they sauntered down the hallway. "I just want to curl under a blanket and sleep. Heck, maybe have a drink or two. Say what? Shall we go after school? To a bar?"

Hanami shook her head. "I prefer coffee."

"We can have that."

She hesitated, thinking of her vacant chair at the table in the kitchen. Her spot. "No, I'm fine. Got something to do."

"Suit yourself."

After school they hurried down the street. Yukino opened her black umbrella and with a wave parted at a street corner. Hanami plowed through the puddles to the station. The clouds were a dismal gray like patches of cloth sewn together haphazardly. When the train arrived, she jostled her way through the crowd. There was no seat available so she hung on to the bars, swaying with the movements of the train, sensing a slow daze creep up her bones.

Dripping from hair to the hem of her skirt, Hanami reached the apartment. Her cold hands fumbled with the key, eager to get in and warm up. When she opened the door, the house was vacant but not cold. The feeling of a glass castle had worn off. It felt like home.

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Lost in thought, Arata returned home. He deposited a dripping umbrella in the rack. The black colored fabric contrasted the small red one of her umbrella tucked in neatly.

The television was on in the drawing room when he entered and Hanami sat on the couch, clutching a green cardigan close. A drama played on the screen. Some cheesy comedy. Her eyes remained glued, flickering with the movements of the actors. When a silly joke was cracked, she broke into a bright, warm smile. Then looked up, taking him by surprise.

Her smiled cooled, turning lukewarm. "Welcome home. I'm sorry, I didn't hear you."

"The show's good?"

"Oh this? It's an old one. You should try it. See the tall man over there? He's a friend of that chubby one."Her gaze turned on him, beaming. "We used to watch it. My roommates and I."

Affected by her enthusiasm, he smiled. "I've never been much for comedy."

"People look their best when they laugh. You should try it."her gaze directed up his nose."Your hair is wet..." She stood up."I'll warm up the dinner."

"Dinner?"he raised a brow. "You cooked?"

The woman nodded with a slight flush. "I did, and it's good, really."

"Mhm."

"Then,"she added, "I'll make us some coffee."

At the prospect of coffee his mood brightened. Perhaps it showed on his face. She shook her head. "We're coffee addicts, aren't we?"

"You mean enthusiasts." Arata smiled sheepishly.

"That does sound better."

As she passed by him, a warmth and unmistakable fragrance of plum blossoms seemed to emerge from her clothes. The kind that allayed his misgivings about the call and the damp mood of the day.

Arata liked the scent.

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