Rice, December, Remember

Festival, Fireworks, and...?

For obvious reasons, my girlfriend December wanted to go out with me tonight.

"There's probably no point in going all lovey-dovey with you since you're gonna forget it all anyway," I told her before going. She had the look of confusion embedded on her face.

I walked with her to watch the yearly Kistanny'l festival. Well, of course, it was a date, so I wore nice clothing. She didn't want to, but I insisted she should.

And when she arrived, I looked at her from top to bottom, not missing any detail.

Her light grayish-lavender hair was styled in loose, wavy layers with two small, symmetrical ponytails tied with bows on each side of her head. She had a simple and cute expression—large round lavender eyes that gave her a calm and somewhat melancholic look. A black ribbon was placed at the back of her head, which was a subtle contrast to her light hair.

She wore our village's traditional clothing with layered elements. She wore sleeves as long as mine with puffed shoulders and a wrap-around style tied at the front of her bow. Her top has dark-colored stripes on the sleeves and a frilly trim on the edges. She paired these with shorts that also had frilled trim at the hem. She had high socks in a light color and boots with fluffy cuffs and laces, matching the overall scheme of her outfit.

"Where are we going?" she asked me. I looked at her like she was some kind of idiot. Didn't I already tell her we'd watch the festival?

"I promise you; you'll enjoy looking at the flying plitandas."

"Rice, that's not answering my question. You're being such a kannin again."

I felt her hand tug my sleeves while she lowered her eyebrows and slightly pouted her lips. She looked adorable and I had no idea how to react, so I let out a soft laugh.

Plitandas are like artworks carved from oak trees that the people of Kistan send to the sky on top of a hill named Lilja.

In the second month of the year, July, the folks of Kistan prepare their chimes and carvings so that when spring comes in March, they'll be ready to be raised. These are the traditions we keep to honor Mimmeg, the spirit goddess. After March comes December, the month Mimmeg showers us with prosperity.

Walking around a corner, I saw a stall selling rice creams, December's favorite sweets. I bought two boxes and called her. She was standing over a tree probably looking for me. "Dece'! Over here!"

I could see the surprised look on her face, her mouth was slightly open and probably watering too. She was adorable. She came rushing to me with a giggle.

"Here, I bought you some."

I moved my fingers over the surface of the wrapper, seeing the black ribbon. I switched my glance from the wrapper's ribbon to December's headwear, an identical match. "Is it just me or does this package look like you?" I asked her with a chuckle.

She didn't like my comment and proceeded to glare at me.

"Are you calling me a box-head?"

I gave her a fun laugh while I lifted my hand in the air, letting it land on her head, or her ribbon precisely. I could see her looks turn into something nervous. I knew she was shy, so I started patting her head. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaking a little bit. I showed her my concern.

"Your face is a little red."

She closed her eyes and puffed her cheeks. "I wonder why, you moron."

I couldn't help but laugh at her once again. I slid the box open to eat my rice cream. It was filled with sweet cream and caramel. It melts on your tongue as you indulge in every bite.