Pretty. There was no other way to describe it. Flower petals rained down. Pink and white hues flurrying around, blending together whimsically. The delicate pastels contrasted nicely against the light blue sky, the sun shining through the translucent floral scattered patterns of light against the floor, already flooded with cherry blossoms.
It was then that I saw her, standing in the midst of the downpour. Her black hair laid along her shoulders lightly, framing her gentle face which was remarkably pale. A small mole resided beneath her bottom lip, it was endearing. Her eyelashes swept gracefully over her grey-blue irises, which were locked on to me. It felt like she was piercing my soul, a shiver went down my spine. But I... I was entranced. Surrounded by the pink and white cherry blossoms, she was beautiful. Pretty.
When the wind picked up and softly blew the sweet scented petals away, I learned her name. Kiyoko Shimizu. The manager of our school's volleyball club, she was looking for a successor to inherit her role. She'd be graduating soon.
I knew about the Karasuno volleyball team, they won prelims and secured their ticket to nationals. The prospect of joining something greater than myself seemed invigorating, so eagerly, I accepted. Kiyoko smiled. She smiled and the sun seemed brighter. And the pinks and whites floating against the blue sky fluttered past, whispering encouragement and excitement at the promising future.
But the cherry blossoms would eventually wither away, spring cannot last forever.
Summer brought hazes of heat and sweltering beams of rays. Not even the clinking of cups filled with melting ice and sugary lemonade could fight off the cruel temperatures. Our clothing stuck to slick, hot skin as sweat dripped into our eyes, making them sting persistently.
School was out, nationals had long been finished with. And Karasuno had lost. Losing was bitter, leaving a bile aftertaste in every swallow, every breath. But I couldn't help but feel happy despite the defeat. I had gained a family. In volleyball and it's tenacious spirit. In the boys and their incessant exuberance. In Kiyoko, and her serene presence. I found a family within them all and with their company, summer was euphoric.
Despite having been graduated, Kiyoko still spent every summer day by my side. We'd lounge lethargically outside in the shade, basking in the sun's welcoming warmth. When the moon awoke, hand in hand with the stars, we'd sit in front of my TV, our faces washed in the blue glow that emitted from the screen. Nothing could be heard except for the device's static and our own, mellow breathing. It was quite a dull event, but I was scared of the dark, too fearful to move. Kiyoko, the angel that she was, held my hand in the muted darkness.
On the first night of this routine, I was embarrassed, ashamed of my fear. But Kiyoko only smiled, rosy lips curling prettily. "This can be our little secret" she had said. A comment so trivial, and yet so touching. Something blossomed between us. Volleyball had been our beginning, but after that night, there was more than just the sport that connected us.
The days went by, blurring together with heart clenching fondness and a hint of ecstasy. Summer and Kiyoko were intertwined in my mind, one could not exist without the other. Apart from our buoyant bliss, summer was uneventful. Or so I wish.
Two weeks before school recommenced and Kiyoko started university, a tragedy occurred. A teenage boy was found dead in a ditch, stab wounds littered on his body. Yahaba Shigeru, student of Aoba Johsai, had been killed.
I along with all of Miyagi were shocked, in disbelief that such an atrocity could occur in our little prefecture. Kiyoko and I cherished our time together more fervently after the incident, fearful of our lives being stolen and cut short, just as it had been for Yahaba.
My second year began, far too quickly than I would've hoped. Kiyoko went off to college, majoring in business with the desire to open her own sports store someday, inspired by her previous years with track and volleyball no doubt. By then, the sky had turned grey and the leaves were brittle, falling carelessly from tree branches that whistled in the breeze. Autumn replaced summer, and the apprehension that came with the chilly weather made my heart drop into the abyss of my twisting stomach. The world was darkening and I was not prepared.
Clouds were moving in and my world was greying but still, everything was okay. I had Kiyoko. On a particularly crisp day, seven months after meeting each other, we had our first kiss. An eyelash tickled my cheek, prompting Kiyoko to move in and sweep it away. But when her fingers touched my skin, she did not take them away. Small chills made my hairs stand as her fingertips caressed me softly, tracing soothing sensations along my flesh. Obliviously, I sighed into her touch, leaning my cheek against her palm. Her grey-blue irises studied me, boring into my soul as they had done our first encounter. A heartbeat later, she asked me if she could kiss me.
In my mind, there was never another option, I said yes.
Kiyoko's lips brushed against mine lightly, testing out the friction. We hesitated only slightly, before closing the gap between our lips. Our kiss lasted only a minute, but was enough for the butterflies to cluster in my stomach, threatening to burst out my throat prettily.
A breeze blew and the leaves encircled Kiyoko Shimizu; oranges, yellows, and reds mixing together to serenade our amour with color. She was beautiful.
Autumn flashed by, predominant by its warm kisses and chilly awakenings.
Winter was difficult. It was frightfully dark. It brought harsh temperatures and dull months. Time seemed to slow down as school became more vigorous and my meetings with Shimizu more scarce. Often there were days where we did not even speak, too preoccupied in our own affairs. Winter was unforgiving.
As Shimizu and I became distant, I found solace in Yamaguchi, an unlikely friend. When he wasn't busy with stingy Tsukishima or bubbly Hinata, he was with me. Walking in the cold with rosy cheeks and frigid limbs, we laughed and chattered to our heart's content. Sometimes I'd get sad, lonely despite his company because I missed Shimizu and her tender presence. But it was okay, because Yamaguchi didn't fault me, he understood me and held my hand through the darkness, edging me out.
Yamaguchi was like the stars, twinkling ever so brightly in the darkness, guiding me to safety. And when we said our goodbyes and departed, I saw the moon. Tsukishima looking impossibly lighter than ever with Yamaguchi at his side. The moon and the stars truly looked magical together, they were pretty.
But as the stars need the moon to cast light brightly, the moon can shine without its stars.
One dark afternoon, I ventured out to meet with Yamaguchi at a park brimming with naked trees. Smiling faintly, I recalled it being the location where I had met Shimizu, a pleasantry of spring. My daydream was interrupted as clouds rolled in inimically, blocking out any faint rays of sunlight. The wind howled violently, tussling my hair to my discomfort and stinging my skin with cold force. The air seemed thick with apprehension and turmoil, it was unsettling. It made me uneasy and scared.
I quickened my pace, anxious to be with Yamaguchi already. But winter was difficult, it was unforgiving. And Yamaguchi was laying on the grass, covered in blood.
What was most horrifying wasn't my friend dead on the floor, it was the culprit. Sweet and pretty Shimizu, standing over Yamaguchi with a crimson stained knife and the hint of a smile.
"This can be our little secret."
And despite the cold and the light winter snow, I swore I could see them. The downpour of pink and white flower petals, raining down prettily in the sky.
Cherry blossoms in the wind.
