Brilliance of Youth ~ I Need to Be in Love, Part 2
1454 Words
It's a Friday, yay!
I can't wait for Harumi to make up for her no-show yesterday.
Afternoon. After class.
I go home quite early, mainly because I have nothing else to do beyond attending mandatory classes.
Alright, then.
I retrieve the paper containing Noemi's poem from my bedroom chest of drawers, and then store it in a clear envelope for some much-needed protection.
There. I'm now ready for her to actually show up.
And she indeed does, showing up at my doorstep.
With a bag of something in hand.
“Good afternoon, Gunpei! To make up for yesterday, I have a treat for you!”
She then opens this bag.
And it contains... a pack of ice cream sandwiches.
“Whoa! All this... just for us?!”
“Exactly!”
And as 6 pm is finally shown on the clock, we both sit on the coffee table as usual, all while starting to munch on the treats she gave me.
Never mind that we're eating ahead of dinner time; we might be actually eating dinner due to the multitude of sandwiches she took home.
To be honest, this is the first time I'm eating an ice cream sandwich.
Of course, back in Hokkaido, I can't eat anything cold in the midst of constantly cold weather, since it's illogical by itself.
And when I moved to Sango-minato, that belief was still stuck on me... until this very moment.
It turns out the ice cream sandwiches she took home are of assorted varieties.
Made with cookies? Made with brownies? Made the traditional way?
Who cares. They're all delicious, anyway, just from my first taste impressions.
“I'm curious...”
“Of course, you want to ask me where I got these from. Got them from a friend, whose mom is planning to open an ice cream shop here in this town.”
“That's amazing. So then...”
I don't want to waste any more time, and thus, I promptly hand over Noemi's poem to her.
“Hey, I know that poem. B-but how'd that end up in your hands?”
“I dunno. I found it in my cabinet full of academic papers from junior high and high school.”
“Hmm... it's possible she accidentally dropped it while in school, and you picked it up without giving a second thought. And then it ended up as the odd one out in a space full of academic papers.”
“Yeah, that's likely. So then... since I have a hazy memory of when she actually wrote it, can you tell me the answer to that?”
“Definitely. She wrote the poem after she broke up with Jin and before she met Yurina.”
“Makes sense. Moving on from a heartbreak? Wanting to be in love again? In world full of harsh realities such as ours? Yup, it all adds up. That also reminds me... it was also her first time writing one.”
“I remember that she wrote the poem while it was raining outside her home. She was wide awake at 4 am without a friend in sight.”
“Most likely because she was still reeling from that breakup. Anyhow, I forgot how was she able to stay awake at this time. I know I stayed awake very late at night once due to my intensive studies.”
“So you forgot that piece of info, huh? She woke up at 3:30 am because she was struck by something. And I'm sure it ain't lightning.”
“Inspiration, I presume.”
She then peers at the words Noemi used in constructing her poem.
Like a critic, her eyes are closely glued to the lines and verses.
Considering she is a student at an arts-focused school, she's qualified to evaluate an artistic creation such as a poem.
Ten minutes pass (and we are still eating our ice cream sandwiches), and she's finished with her inspection. Here's her critique.
“Not bad for a first try. Personally, I scratched my head at some instances of weird word usage. But then... I could feel the powerful emotions she imbued into those words – so the two pretty much cancel each other out.”
“Ah, yes. Once she presented the poem to me, she read it out loud, and I was floored by her voice that can be best described as... silk hiding steel.”
“Alright. Tell me more about it.”
***
The morning after the rain – the impetus for her first poem – Noemi invited me to come to her house.
It was a Saturday, so there were no classes to speak of.
When I arrived, I was greeted with the honest-to-goodness smiles coming from her parents.
They knew they would trust me as their daughter's new friend.
Once they guided me to her room...
I was surprised by Noemi's somewhat disheveled look (with faint signs of eye bags and all)and her droopy voice.
“Oh, Gunpei. Good morning. Glad you came here.”
“Guess you ignored your own advice and didn't take it easy.”
“Yeah. You simply don't know how a heartbreak can do to a woman like me.”
Yeah. That breakup, if I recall correctly, happened some months after she moved here.
She had to struggle with the typical problems of transfer students, but she took them all in stride.
Until that cop-hating straight-A student with the body that makes other guys feel right out of shape came into the picture and mucked her up.
“So then... why'd you have to invite me all the way here to your humble home?”
“To show you this.”
And by 'this'...
…she meant a handwritten poem that is clearly brimming with femininity, in terms of handwriting.
I took a quick look, and...
“I never knew you to be someone writing poems like these.”
“Well, pardon me if it's a little rough around the edges. It's my first time.”
“Yup, called it.”
“Anyway, want to hear me read my poem out loud?”
“Really? Won't your parents get angry at you for making unnecessary noises?”
“They don't mind. They already knew of my written masterpiece beforehand.”
“Good. Good.”
We both headed towards her room (with her express permission, of course), she laid her body on her comfy pink bed, and I sat on a chair that's just... there.
She then began her poetry declamation.
As we advance in years
We should never forget where we were, where we came from
There we can find
The brilliance of youth.
Her opening was a little overpowered, but I soon got used to the quaint way she's modulating her naturally soft voice for an effective declamation.
Remember that song we used to sing all the time?
Remember those precious things we kept?
Remember your first crush?
Remember that first pimple on your face?
Remember the other signs of puberty doing irreversible changes to our bodies?
Remember all those exams and club activities we used to endure?
Remember the places we used to go but are now changed drastically, or even worse, gone?
It is nature and society playing not just tricks on us.
They also prepare us to gallantly face tougher challenges.
Indeed, I ask myself...
Despite all the time my parents invested in my education, I sometimes ask myself...
Have I learned anything?
More than 12 years.
More than 4,320 days.
More than 103,680 hours.
More than 6,220,800 minutes.
More than 373,248,000 seconds.
Have I learned anything?
As the rain drenches the earth we live in
We keep those postcards of memories
Whether we like those memories or not.
The days we have with family, friends, acquaintances, and strangers
No matter how small or insignificant those postcards are
They are building blocks to the formation of our unique selves.
They are... the light in the void of uncertainties.
Indeed, experience is the best teacher.
And teachers are the students' light in fighting the darkness of ignorance.
And when the twilight of our lives comes,
And the light of life is about to vanish,
We should ask our younger selves...
“Have we all made it in the game of life?”
Some did, some didn't.
But the important thing is...
We should all never forget the brilliance of youth.
Death, the cessation of life, is inevitable for all of us.
We all have this built-in instinct to preserve ourselves, to remain alive even for a single day.
But then, I recalled the day when I first met Harumi, and how she described death as a symptom of life, of cells replacing themselves at regular intervals when they wear out.
Once she has finished reciting her debut poem...
I could sense something about to burst in her face.
And indeed... she wept.
For the first time ever since that breakup.
Because she simply let it all out.
Everything built up within her.
Naturally, her parents rushed to her room, and they didn't pinpoint the blame on me, thank goodness.
They instead consoled her like any good parents would.
They knew she had the courage to move on.
What she learned from that first love...
She deluded herself and kept believing there's someone in this crazy world for her and only her.
She also learned that nothing comes for free.
Not even schoolyard love.
The price she paid was high enough for her.
She wanted to be loved again, even though it would waste another good chunk of time.
She knew she asked perfection of a quite imperfect world...
...but that was her idealism shining through, combating the sordid reality around her.
And thus, Noemi Kuroyanagi the lovelorn poet was born.
For an underage person such as her, the verses she cranked out exuded maturity of the spirit.
- Writer
