At the Summit
"Nnngh!"
I was paying dearly for underestimating the mountain. Planted on a nearby bench, I gasped for air—sprinting too hard from the very start had been my undoing. Beside me, Maru held out a bottle of water, and I took it like the water of life and drank. My throat was so parched that something this cold and clear was exactly what I'd been craving.
"Hana, are you all right?"
Maru asked it gently from right beside me. She was clearly hauling more than I was, and yet she hardly looked tired at all. Unbelievable. We'd decided on this hike for her health, and it turned out I was the one with the pathetic stamina.
Come to think of it, I was an even worse homebody than Maru. She at least got out and about for work, and whether she exercised once she got home I had no way of knowing—but judging by how well she kept her weight in check, she was living a far healthier life than I was.
"Hana, you really need to exercise! We haven't even been walking an hour, and you're already wiped out!"
"B-but...!"
There hadn't even been a slope, so I had no real defense against the scolding. This was entirely my own fault. I was resting because I was exhausted; if I'd been full of energy, I wouldn't be stuck on this bench—I'd still be climbing toward the summit.
Whoooosh—
The wind helped, at least. It was summer, so the breeze wasn't particularly cool, but mountain air blew hard, like a fan cranked all the way to high. My hair fluttered every which way. I'd forgotten to tie it up before we left!
I turned my brightest, most pleading eyes on Maru.
"Maru! Tie my hair for me!"
I held out a hair tie as I said it. I could have done it myself, but I didn't feel like moving a single muscle, so I'd decided to be a little brat about it. And if she refused, well—that was just an excuse to rest a little longer.
But Maru took the tie and slipped neatly around behind me.
"Hana! Look at you, you're sweating!"
Sweat was trickling down the back of my neck. Not a flood, exactly, but beads of it had gathered, and Maru had noticed. She dabbed them away with a handkerchief and started gathering my hair into a ponytail, and I sat quietly and let myself be handled.
Maru was good at tying hair. Or rather, I was the strange one. Girls my age were supposed to know all sorts of ways to do their hair, and I was the exception. Aside from a ponytail, there wasn't a single style I could manage.
Which made sense, really. I'd never tied my hair back when I was a man. Growing it out wouldn't have changed much anyway. Some men let theirs get long enough to tie, but I'd always kept mine short—I'd never once worn it long.
"Ta-da! All tied up, nice and pretty!"
There was no mirror, so I couldn't see myself, but Maru looked so pleased that it must have turned out well. I shook my new ponytail this way and that, and it slapped against my back like a horse's tail.
"Hup!"
I got up from the bench, ready to walk again. I'd rested enough; one push to the summit would do it. My pride wouldn't allow another break. I'd gone back to being a child, and my stamina had come roaring back with me—a short rest, and my recovery was no joke.
Kids burned through energy fast and recharged just as fast. That was common enough, and I seemed to be the same type. I hadn't sat on that bench for even ten minutes, and already I was brimming with strength. So this is what a child's body is like!
"Hana! Let's take it slow this time, okay? Looking at the scenery while you hike is half the fun!"
All I could think about was getting to the top and eating cup ramen, but Maru seemed to be a different sort. Whenever we passed a pretty patch of flowers, she crouched down and snapped photos on her phone, and I watched from beside her. The camera roll was full of wildflowers. She clearly loved photographing them.
So that was why she'd been so happy when I suggested a hike. I'd assumed she just liked a legal way to skip work—but she'd liked this kind of thing all along!
"Whoa!"
I couldn't help exclaiming at how beautifully she took the pictures. When I tried, I got backlighting and my own shadow—the classic bad snapshot. Maru was different. She shot like a photographer on a fashion set.
"Maru, you're really good at this."
"You think so? Want to try one, Hana?"
"Yeah!"
I took the phone and aimed at a flower I liked. Sure enough, my shadow swallowed it whole. I tried a few more times, didn't get the picture I wanted, and lost interest. Soon enough I handed the phone back and started up the trail again. Once you started something, you saw it through—and today, the summit was the plan.
"Hana! You don't have to run!"
Maru came hurrying after me. I treated it like a game of tag, cast her as it, and took off at a patter. Of course I ran out of breath before long and dropped back to a walk.
"Wooow!"
We'd finally reached the top. A big stone sat squarely at the summit, declaring that this was it. Not much of a height, really—about four hundred meters.
I asked Maru to take my picture, then stood in front of the stone, flashed a V, and smiled.
"One! Two! Kimchi!"
"Kimchi!"
Maru snapped the photo on her phone. After a few shots I darted over to see how they'd turned out. In the picture, a little girl with the green hair I'd grown used to by now smiled and held up a peace sign.
"Do you want one too, Maru?"
"Would you take it?"
She didn't hand me the phone. She asked a passerby instead, and I stared, a little blank—until Maru, seeing me standing there dazed, caught my hand and pulled me in front of the stone. She wanted us in the picture together.
"We've got to take one with you in it, Hana!"
And so the two of us were captured standing before the stone. For a photo taken by a stranger passing by, it had come out remarkably well. Maru thanked the person who'd taken it, and I bowed my head in thanks as well. This was the real pleasure of taking pictures.
I set my bag down somewhere suitable, practically hugging my excitement to my chest, and rummaged through it. Inside, a cup of ramen waited, still sealed, carefully enshrined. Maru dug through her own bag and produced a cup of her own, along with a thermos of hot water.
The climb had left my stomach stuck to my spine, so I tore into the packaging with fervor, peeled back the lid, dumped in the soup powder, and held the cup out to Maru. Smiling, she poured the hot water in.
"Ooooh!"
Steam curled up, and I couldn't hold back my awe. What would cup ramen taste like at a mountain summit? Better than any feast of land and sea, I was sure of it—because I was starving!
A little hunger was the finest seasoning there was. The long three minutes it took the noodles to cook crawled by. Maru, deciding hers were ready, picked up her chopsticks and slurped away.
Chopsticks...? Oh no!
A dreadful suspicion sent me digging through the bag. Chocolate, candy, snacks—my hands found all of it, and not a single chopstick anywhere. Had I really left the wooden chopsticks behind? I searched with trembling eyes and still couldn't find them.
Was I going to have to wait until Maru finished...? She must have seen how deflated I looked, because she asked, curious.
"Hana. What's wrong?"
"I didn't bring chopsticks. Maru..."
"You should've said so sooner! I brought spares!"
"Really?"
Maru rummaged in her bag, produced a pair of wooden chopsticks, and held them out. I took them with a face lit up by pure joy. Trust Maru to come prepared!
Even if I myself hadn't.
And so I got to eat that honey-sweet cup of summit ramen. Looking down over the city, it tasted like nothing else in the world could compare.