Running away from the Love-Brain

Pineapple Ice

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Chi Buyu had always believed that this string of letters must hold some special meaning. Maybe it looked like a random jumble, but it could actually be the acronym for a hidden message.

She had racked her brain over it, trying out different interpretations. The one that seemed to make the most sense was: I can (e) love (i) you love you (U) all the way, with extra sugar and ice.

The sentence had three instances of love.

Chi Buyu knew this probably wasn't right, but it felt close enough. So, on her own, she decided to share this theory with Mine. Of course, calling the other person "Mine" was also something she had come up with on her own. She'd pieced it together from that string of letters, twisting and turning it, until Mine was the only recognizable word she could find.

Mine responded with a string of ellipses.

Then, with great patience, she explained: [It's just a random jumble of letters. It has no meaning.]

Chi Buyu replied, "Okay," but she couldn't help asking, "Why would you use something meaningless for a nickname? Isn't that a bit odd?"

But Mine had always been mysterious.

Not only had she never set any status updates, but even the popular profile pictures everyone loved to swap out back then hadn't changed for her. For as long as Chi Buyu had known her, her profile picture had been the same blurry shot of "Pineapple Ice Ice."

It looked like it had been snapped at random, maybe while running away from something... the kind of photo you'd take hastily, without bothering to focus. The background was a blurred-out city, and the image, when zoomed in, had a hazy, old-dream quality. Back in those days, pictures still didn't have the best resolution, making everything look grey, as though wrapped in a foggy filter.

Chi Buyu lay in bed, clutching her strawberry bear plushie, eyes wide open, and managed to recognize that the city in the background had large-leafed coconut trees, their edges blurred. At first glance, the pineapple ice looked a lot like SpongeBob's house.

She thought, This person is really strange.

No status updates, a nonsense nickname, always cold and distant. But her profile picture was a pineapple ice treat that resembled SpongeBob's home. It made it impossible to figure out what kind of person Mine really was.

Mine never answered that question. Instead, after a while, she asked: [Have you finished making the plant specimen yet?]

Chi Buyu sent a swirling penguin emoji and replied, "Not yet, no rush."

Mine didn't say anything after that. She must be busy, Chi Buyu thought. After all, even her profile picture was just a blurry photo of a pineapple ice.

As vague as that profile picture felt, Mine herself was just as mysterious. In the plant enthusiasts' group they were both part of, Mine hardly ever spoke.

At that time, Chi Buyu had just received a beautiful plant from her aunt in Taiwan for her sixteenth birthday. It was a plant she didn't know the name of, but it was undeniably beautiful.

Each leaf was heart-shaped, a pale pink color that almost looked transparent in the sunlight, with deep veins that resembled blood vessels leading to the heart.

Chi Buyu thought it was magical.

Her aunt had told her it was a caladium, and that no two leaves were ever the same in shape or color. In the accompanying letter, written on paper with ink that had bled slightly into the fibers, her aunt had expressed her hope that Chi Buyu's sixteenth year—and every year after—would be as colorful and unique as the caladium, filled with joy and unwavering determination.