Canary Flowers Under the Rising Moonlight
Canary flowers under the rising moonlight.
"Hmnya."
The Young Lady, folding paper right on time for my shift to end, waved her hand and greeted me cheerfully.
"Rikaddo."
"It's Ricardo."
"It's fine."
"I'm not fine with it."
The Young Lady lightly brushed off my objection and gazed at me with sparkling eyes.
Slap.
To be precise, she was looking at my hands clasped behind my back. I let out a hollow chuckle at her curious gaze and said,
"Why are you staring like that?"
Slap slap.
"..."
Rustle. A crinkling sound came from the hand I'd hidden behind my back, and the Young Lady's eyes widened as she broke into a bright smile.
"Uhi-hit...! Food!"
"Young Lady. Are you happier to see the food than me?"
I let out a light sigh and held up the paper bag full of expired discarded items, offering a small smile. She ate plenty of good things, but for some strange reason, she preferred food past its expiration date.
"It's free! Free!"
The Young Lady, with her impeccable sense of thrift, cheered as she took the paper bag. I felt a twinge of guilt about feeding her expired food, but since she loved it so much, I couldn't bring myself to stop her.
"Ooooh!!! Rikaddo! There's tuna kimbap! And chocolate milk too!"
She was the type to find joy in the little things.
About an hour of filling her hungry belly with convenience store snacks later, the Young Lady returned to her postponed paper folding.
"Hooo..."
Concentrating intently for once, she pressed down on the paper with her pale fingers, a pleased smile on her face.
"Young Lady."
"Yeah."
"What are you folding?"
"It's a secret."
She pouted her lips, deep in focus. She was concentrating so hard even an archaeologist might learn a thing or two.
Sniff.
Of course, I wiped her runny nose for her.
After a good long while of folding, she held out a tiny paper creation on her palm and said,
"Rikaddo."
"Yes, Young Lady."
"Take this."
"You're giving it to me?"
"Yeah. For Rikaddo."
I looked at what resembled half-chewed gum and voiced my doubt.
"You folded a crane pretty well."
She'd given up on paper cranes last year, so it had to be one. She only knew how to fold people and cranes anyway—though this was a chimera wearing a crane's disguise, the core was still a crane—so I could easily guess what her creation was.
"Your handiwork has improved a lot."
She shook her head firmly at my confident words.
"Huh? No it hasn't?"
"Then what is it?"
The Young Lady beamed and gave a brief introduction to her masterpiece.
"A flower."
"Oh..."
"It's a flower."
"This is a flower?"
"Yeah. This is the petal, and this is the stem."
Oh. No matter how I looked, I couldn't see it. If half-chewed gum was a flower, then roadside weeds would look like tulips. A question mark floated above my head as I stared at her masterpiece in confusion.
"Ah... so is this that famous flower that smells like corpses?"
"Nope?"
Pulling out fresh paper and starting to fold again, she looked at me innocently and shook her head.
"A rose."
"?"
The more I thought about it, the less sense her aesthetic sense made. It seemed like something a commoner's brain just couldn't comprehend.
Nobles sure are profound.
Having folded a new (self-proclaimed) rose, she smiled contentedly and handed it to me.
"Here!"
"Giving me another one?"
"Yeah. Make a flower arrangement with it later."
"It'd shock people in all sorts of ways."
"Fuhi-hi..."
She practically melted at the praise.
The Young Lady and I continued with our paper folding. I worked toward my thousand-paper-crane goal, while she crafted her bizarre roses to pass the time.
This time folding a green one, she casually brought up,
"Hey, Rikaddo."
"Yes."
"Work... isn't tough?"
"No, not at all."
"..."
The Young Lady bit her lip and folded her paper. She wanted to let me do what I wanted, but her body made her useless, and that embarrassed her. She quietly folded paper to soothe her gloom.
"It's fine, Young Lady."
"I didn't say anything."
"It's all over your face."
"Eeeeek..."
She clenched her fists sulkily and sighed.
"Tell me if it's tough."
"Haha... Yes, got it."
"If someone bullies you, tell Daddy."
"Got it."
"And..."
After fretting over me for a while, she paused in the flowing silence, took a breath, and asked,
"What's Ricardo's favorite flower?"
"Why flowers all of a sudden?"
"Just curious."
"Then what's your favorite flower, Young Lady?"
I chuckled softly at the sudden philosophical question and turned it back on her. Favorite flower? It wasn't something she'd ask often, given her love for fighting over flowers, so I asked back with interest.
"Hmm..."
She naturally brought her finger to her nostril and said. I, of course, stopped her hand.
"Lilies."
"Ricardo, nobles aren't dirty."
"The family head picks his nose too, so there must be a reason."
"Eugh... that's gross."
"Liar."
I let out a hollow laugh at her peak hypocrisy.
"So, what's your favorite flower, Young Lady? A visually stunning rose? Or vibrant cosmos in autumn?"
"Hmm..."
She shook her head in short denial, then cautiously opened her mouth.
"I like lilies."
"That's your taste, huh?"
"Huh?"
"Do you perhaps like... women?"
"I like men."
Her blank expression and clear answer made me shake my head with a chuckle.
"Still, it's surprisingly romantic for you, Young Lady. I figured roses."
"No, I like roses too, but lilies more. They're pretty to look at, nice scent. And..."
She gave a faint smile and told me,
"The language of flowers is 'purity'."
"The total opposite of you."
"Eeeeek!!"
She crumpled the paper in her fist, annoyed. To avoid getting hit by that clenched fist she looked ready to throw, I waved my hand and answered her question.
"I like canary flowers."
"Huh? Those are super ugly."
"They're not ugly. Just plain."
"Average."
"Puhaha! Well... they're pretty because they're quiet flowers that don't catch eyes. Common, always findable anywhere."
"You sounded like a chuunibyou kid, Ricardo."
"Did I? I thought it was romantic, but guess not."
She pouted and dove back into paper folding.
How do you fold a canary flower?
At her cute enthusiasm, I smiled faintly and cautiously called out.
"Oh, right, Young Lady."
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask a question?"
"Yeah. Don't make it too hard. I'm dumb at math."
"I know."
"Eeeeek!"
I gave a slight smile at her intense reaction and carefully asked,
"It's about a friend of mine."
"Ricardo has friends?"
"...A story about someone I don't know, then."
"Yeah."
"Well... this friend of mine."
"Yeah. The friend?"
"Has feelings where the end is set in stone without going all the way—what should they do?"
Pause.
At the sensitive question, she stopped what she was doing and looked at me. I'd softened it as much as possible, but she seemed to catch on. That it was about her. Or someone with a similar story.
I quickly glossed over my words and bowed my head. I'd been careful, but I'd upset her mood anyway. Short-sighted of me—I apologized.
"Sorry."
"..."
"I misspoke."
"No. It happens."
After staring at the paper for a good long while, she opened her heavy mouth and spoke softly.
"Hey, Ricardo."
"Yes."
"You know what happens when someone's eyes go blind?"
"..."
"Can't see ahead."
"..."
"Eyes go pitch black, can't see a thing, doesn't matter what anyone says or yells—it doesn't reach, knows it's wrong but keeps going."
".."
"Then bang—hits something...."
She gave me a bitter look and said,
"It all comes crumbling down."
I spoke cautiously to the serious-faced Young Lady.
"Young Lady."
"Yeah..."
"Don't dig chocolate out of my pocket."
"Hiiiik!"
Her words said one thing, but her nimble fingers said another.
The academy convenience store, open as always today. Shuen, hiding behind a pillar, held her breath as she watched the man at the counter.
"This is bad..."
Shuen was in crisis. Sure, surveilling Ricardo was trouble, but it paled next to her survival issue.
It was 12:10 p.m. Right after morning classes ended, prime lunch hour when students flocked. Shuen paced alone in front of the store.
Lunchtime was hell for her. The scariest time she wished would never come. Eating alone in the bathroom was lonely, after all.
"I left my lunchbox in the dorm..."
Shuen swallowed her frustration amid her stomach's growl. Egg rolls with rice, stir-fried Vienna sausages—a hearty feast left on her desk. Tears welled up.
"Even Vienna sausages today... So unfair!"
With her father's strict policy to instill proper money sense through meager allowance, Shuen—her hair in twin bread rolls—sweated coldly thinking of the absent lunchbox.
"No lunchbox means... I starve!"
Two years into bathroom meals, she couldn't muster the courage for a crowded cafeteria alone. If she went solo,
She's eating alone again.
Says she won't eat commoner slop, but what now? All high-and-mighty alone...
Ignore her, she'll eat solo anyway.
Bad vibes loomed again, so Shuen hid behind the pillar, praying the crowd would thin.
"Why so many people today...!"
Shuen was starving. And.
Hmm.
Ricardo was pondering.