Blossoms of the Dark

CXVII Shouto: Resonance

Internships end days later and classes resume.

Everyone talks about their experiences, and inevitably, the conversation turns to us.

Myself, Iida, and Midoriya.

They talk about the Hero Killer, especially that controversial video that the media keeps taking down but gets re-uploaded just as fast.

And yet, my focus drifts to the impending dinner tonight between my father and Hanada-chan's father. I hadn't realized when the New Year's almost arrived. What with all the rush of events recently, I nearly forgot.

I notice that Hanada-chan pointedly keeps to her novel, avoiding any conversation that may be directed at her. That doesn't mean she's not listening to every word. Respectful of her wishes, I don't interact with her during that time. At least, until it's Lunchtime.

"Midoriya and Iida invited me to join them at the cafeteria table. Come with?" I ask her.

"Thank you, but I'm fine. I want to sit by the pools," she replies.

"But the weather. It's cold, and the first snowfall is supposed to occur today. You'll have to wear a winter jacket and wool gloves. Even change out of your shoes," I gesture at her loafers. "All that trouble is not worth it, Hanada-chan. Just eat in the cafeteria with me."

But she refused again. "I don't like being around many people. You know that by now. If it's a compromise between the cold and my anxiety, I choose the cold. Don't let me stop you, Todoroki-kun. Go and enjoy your meal."

I don't fight her this time. As I watch her turn around and walk through the glass doors leading outside, I whisper to no one, "You're too stubborn sometimes, Hanada-chan." Her agoraphobia is only one reason. I know there are more that she's hiding. "And too secretive."

After some time, I turn in the opposite direction and approach Midoriya and Iida.

_________________________________________________________

Hours later, when the sun has long set, I get out of the car and stare at the opulent mansion in front of me.

With wrought iron gates that the car just passed through, a mosaic tile driveway leading from it, and gardens and fountains in the front of the mansion, there is no other word to describe the scene other than opulent. The center section consists of an elaborate zen garden with stones ranging from chalky white to sandy beige to volcanic black. Dispersed between the concentric rings of stones are frozen ponds and inactivated fountains. The side sections have paths leading to gardens around and behind the mansion. All in all, the home has a very rich earthy scent to it. My dad and siblings come out and take in the view as well.

My eyes trace a stepping stone path leading up to the main entrance. The mansion itself is enormous. It has the traditional Japanese structure: large and spacious, three floors, irimoya roofs, intricate pillars, wood porches. We step inside, and I see numerous shōji screens and fusuma doors. Shōji consists of white translucent paper supported by wooden frames, allowing light to shine through. Fusuma is similar but with opaque paper, thus not allowing light to penetrate. A butler leads us through a genkan, where we remove our shoes, to a common room, where the floor is covered in tatami mats. It essentially looks like my home, but bigger, more detailed, and fragrant. I stroll toward a window which looks out at botanical gardens, a frozen lake, and a dense forest beyond. It's a supermoon tonight.

My siblings whisper in awe, and my dad looks at everything with a cynical eye. Everything is beautiful, I'm probably never going to see such a pretty house in person every again, I admit. But I simply can't take the time to take it all in. I just want to see Hanada-chan. All of a sudden, I hear footsteps descending the stairs. I whip my head around, hoping it's her. Instead, an older man appears. He is tall, muscular, and has olive skin, straight black hair with wisps of grey, slight wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead, a long nose, and a warm smile. His cologne wafts in my direction ... musk and cedar. He would appear utterly welcoming and benevolent if it were not for his eyes. His eyes, which are a piercing frigid blue, are devoid of feeling. Hanada-chan is a cold person at times, but this ... this is not just coldness because even coldness has a sensation. This man just has none. He's like an abyss. The word 'psychopath' comes to mind, but that's too small of a word to describe what I see. I want to dismiss it as simply my imagination, but my gut instinct tells me that it's not.