Flowers of the Future

Present - Us

(Maki's POV)

I was looking at my favourite thing in the world: the ocean. My ocean. Her expression while asleep was so peaceful, I never got tired of staying awake longer so that I could see it. I wanted to talk some more, about nothing in particular or everything that mattered, but I knew better than to keep Umi up for too long. Besides, the view was a good trade-off. I leaned in to place a tender kiss on her cheek, which caused her to toss and turn away from me. No matter, I was planning on closing my eyes too, I just wanted to make sure she would be dreaming about me.

Some miscellaneous thoughts filled my head as I was trying to drift off into a sweet slumber. Tomorrow was our anniversary, one of three: the day we first met, the day of our first date and the day we moved in together. I had often told her that we should just pick the most meaningful of the three, but she has always insisted on celebrating all of them. The day we get married would mark a fourth anniversary, I thought to myself, amused. There was no lover quite as diligent as Umi. That was an annoying trait when running late for a dinner reservation, but it was endearing in this context. With a smile on my face, I fell asleep.

---

I woke up at 7 am from the sound of my alarm. I turned around to look at Umi's half of the bed, but as expected, it had already been left vacant. She had to travel quite some distance in order to get to her campus, so she had to wake up before me if she wanted to make it in time. I liked to tell her that nobody would fault her for being a bit late, but she vehemently rejected those words. Diligent as always... It was all largely meant in jest anyway, but when she would propose that we could wake up at the time she usually does, I couldn't help but groan. I suppose that was her unique way of getting back at me. In short, there was no staring at each other longingly, content, against the morning glow seeping in between the curtains, but this routine had its own advantages.

After washing my face, putting on my clothes and doing my hair and makeup, I headed downstairs to see that the table had already been made for me, as was customary for Umi. Equally charming was the pastry that had been carefully placed on my plate. Eagerly I took a closer look to see a slice of chocolate layer cake with a puff of whipped cream on top. On the plate that held the cake, my name was written in strawberry sauce, together with the words "Happy anniversary". I was used to having bacon and eggs or some pancakes on my plate, underneath a layer of aluminum foil, but this was a first, a very welcome surprise. I could also recognize the craftsmanship of my dearest ocean in the slice of pie, so I knew she had made it herself. Umi was a woman of many talents and baking was one of them.

I shouldn't let her gift go to waste though; it was meant to be eaten and so it would be eaten, regardless of what a shame it would be to disturb this gorgeous dessert. I made sure to snap a picture beforehand as a compromise, and sent it to Hanayo and Rin, to boast about my ocean. It made me feel like a brave seafarer when I called her that, the captain of a ship that was sturdy enough to withstand the strongest waves. There was no place I'd rather be than the ocean.

I glanced at the clock, only to notice that I had spent maybe a tad too much time relishing the tender sweetness of Umi's gift. I would give her something sweet of my own later today, I thought to myself, while feeling for a stick of lipgloss in my purse: Strawberry Trapper, a bright red shade with a distinct strawberry taste. I had it on during my first kiss with Umi, to which she remarked that she had no idea lips tasted like strawberries and admitted to quite liking the taste. The comment sent me into a fit of laughter, much to her confusion. Even still, I would continue to put it on and I noticed that Umi was telling the truth: she really did like the taste. Her kisses were always so much more passionate, so much more lustful when I had it on. Just the thought painted my cheeks in a color not far removed from the color of my hair, as I was walking the streets leading to my own campus.

Music college. It was a dream that, for a while during high school, I had tried giving up on. The fact that I allowed myself to pursue it now was only due to a chance meeting with a number of extraordinary people, among which one stood most extraordinarily.