Flowers of the Future

Present - Passion

Umi sighed deeply, clearly still apprehensive about laying bare her feelings. I patiently waited for her to start talking. Despite her aptitude at giving shape to lyrics, she had markedly more trouble with communicating her emotions honestly. Eventually, a few words seeped through, like a floodgate that had been opened ever so slightly: "I... don't want your support." My eyes shot wide open and I furrowed my brow deeper than before. Sensing she'd misspoken, she quickly added: "For this! For... my archery."

It was still a crude statement. Umi wasn't so prideful, she was more humble than that; I had expected more from her. However, I viscerally recalled the last time I blew up in front of her. I could tell her heart was still singed by the heat of that eruption and burn wounds could take a long time to heal. I composed myself and repeated: "For your archery?"

Initially, she only nodded, but the floodgates were slowly pulled farther and farther apart: "I don't... feel anything when someone praises my archery. Not when my coach does, or my parents or you..."

Maybe any praise from me wouldn't come off as genuine; I didn't know the first thing about archery. She could make anything look impressive to my untrained eye. However, even the praise from her coach didn't affect her in any way? Still, I was inclined to ask: "Do you not believe me when I do?"

"I-I do! It's just... I want to be praised for... something else." She shamefully cast her eyes downward, as if she was going to ask for an embarrassing favor.

When the words stopped flowing however, I tried prying further, to see if I couldn't identify the subject she wanted to be praised for: "W-well, you're a really diligent lover. You're very punctual and you never forget anything! Like... I don't think you'd forget that you promised to make spaghetti for me tomorrow!" The color of her rose-tinted cheeks turned more and more red with every word. Was I on the right track? "A-and you're a really beautiful woman! You've only gotten more beautiful with age too! Sometimes, when I look at you, I... I almost can't contain myself, especially when you wear your yukata... It was r-really hard keeping my composure at the restau-"

"Th-that's not it! That's not what I m-meant!" She wildly waved her arms in front of her body. Both of us were blushing now, but I also noticed how a trembling smile covered Umi's face. It was a much better fit for her beautiful visage then the downtrodden expression from earlier. If anything, I hoped that my compliments would help to facilitate the rest of this conversation.

"Then what is it? What should I praise you for?" I went to sit down next to her and took hold of her hand with both of mine.

An agonizingly long silence followed, during which I intensely watched Umi struggle to get the next few words out of her mouth. Eventually though, she spoke them, two very simple words that held a lot of meaning and history: "... my lyrics."

It had been years since I heard her talk about her lyrics. Despite Umi being very supportive of my musical career and still listening to my compositions, in order to provide constructive criticism, I had never dared ask her whether she would lend me her words for them. Ever since that fight, it had become a taboo topic, but apparently the last words about it hadn't been spoken yet. "Are you writing lyrics again?" Umi dejectedly shook her head. "Then... do you want to write lyrics again?" After some trepidation, she nodded.

"I realize that I have a passion for songwriting and I don't have that passion for archery." She was speaking less hesitantly, seemingly more sure of herself. Saying these words out loud must have helped her come to terms with her messy thoughts, her conflicting feelings. "I want to be praised for something that I'm passionate about."

It was unbelievable to hear her say this; why hadn't she said so sooner? I almost got ahead of myself out of excitement. "Let's try writing something together again then! I've had this song in mind for days already! I'd love to hear what you could come up with-"

"I can't." The tone with which those words were spoken was all too familiar. "I promised my parents, no distractions. I must focus on my archery and my martial arts. I do not intend to break that promise." The words her parents had told her all those years ago, after the disbandment of µ's, weighed heavily on her still; she followed them to an almost religious extent, as if even the smallest association with writing songs would cause her archery skills to abandon her forever. Perhaps, however, this insistence on denying the words of her heart was indicative of a larger problem.

"You're overreacting now. Aren't you allowed to have a bit of fun?"

Before I was able to continue, Umi had already risen from the sofa, fists clenched. She was vigorously shaking her head. She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I'm going to bed. I have to wake up early tomorrow." I couldn't even get a word in before she had already rushed out of the living room. Now the room had been left vacant of all but myself and my thoughts, no music to help cushion this pressure.

I walked over to the piano, the same one that my ocean and I had shared so many songs at. It had been moved from my parents' house to our apartment here, in the knowledge that I would be able to practise regardless of the day or hour. However, part of me had hoped that one day, the memories attached to this instrument could help connect Umi with her lyrical side again. After what she'd told me, perhaps that hope had not been in vain. I didn't feel like playing the piano tonight though.

When I eventually joined Umi in our room, she had already fallen asleep, though her expression revealed it would not be a peaceful one and the tear stains on her pillows betrayed the crying fit she had desperately tried to keep secret from me. Did it really have to be this way? Was there nothing I could do?