Always You, Summer

The Fired Rainbow and the Captured Fool

"What a coincidence."

A male voice drifted over.

Summer Hayes was standing in the hotel lobby, flipping through a travel guidebook.

She turned around and found the man she had crashed into earlier that day.

"First time here?" Ethan asked, glancing at the brochure in her hand.

"Have you been to the Rainbow Tower?"

"No."

"Do you want to go take a look tomorrow? It's very close to here."

"Sure!" Summer agreed happily. She was instantly attracted by the word "Rainbow".

"Then let's meet at the place where we watched the performance. Under that big Banyan tree."

Ethan looked puzzled for a second, then recalled the spot. He smiled.

"That's not a Banyan tree," he corrected. "That tree is called a Kiawe. Its thorns are hard enough to pierce through tires."

A bit silly, this girl, Ethan thought to himself.

"Ah, is that so? I thought it was a Banyan. By the way, what's your name? I'm Summer Hayes."

"Summer... Hayes..."

Ethan didn't say the word "Silly" out loud, but it was his first impression of her.

"I'm Ethan."

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Ethan."

***

The next morning at ten o'clock.

The sunlight punctually switched Honolulu into "High Saturation Mode".

Under that giant Kiawe tree, Summer saw Ethan from a distance.

She expected to see the man in the white shirt again, exuding that cold, rigorous aura.

But the person in front of her...

The sunlight spilled unreservedly onto his chiseled face.

His hair, usually groomed meticulously, was slightly messed up by the sea breeze today, giving off a vibe of lazy handsomeness.

The most fatal part was his clothes.

He was actually wearing a tropical Hawaiian Aloha shirt.

The base color was deep ocean blue, printed with white hibiscus flowers and giant monstera leaves.

On anyone else, this kind of flashy outfit might look like a tacky tourist.

But on him—

He suppressed the loudness of the print into a kind of "Roguish Elegance".

Like a ball of fire wrapped inside a block of ice.

"Morning! Mr. Kiawe Tree Expert!" Summer was in a great mood, skipping over to greet him.

Ethan looked up. His eyes narrowed slightly behind his sunglasses.

The corner of his mouth hooked into a brilliant smile as he handed her an opened bottle of water.

"Morning. Let's go. I'll take you to worship how hard humans try to keep a rainbow."

The two walked west along Waikiki Beach until the legendary Rainbow Tower unreservedly occupied their vision.

It was a 31-story building.

The huge rainbow mural on its side pierced straight into the clouds.

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Purple.

Every band of color was vibrant and dripping with saturation, refracting a glaze-like texture under the intense tropical sun.

"Wow..."

Summer tilted her head back until her neck almost snapped. Her professional radar as an illustrator went off wildly.

"This is insane! The colors are amazing! For such a tall building, how long did the painter have to hang on wires to paint this?"

"And this paint doesn't fade in the sun? What grade of acrylic is this?"

She turned back to Ethan excitedly, her eyes sparkling:

"Ethan, look! The brushstrokes are so even, there are no brush marks at all!"

Ethan stood beside her, hands in his pockets, looking up slightly.

The rainbow was reflected in his sunglasses.

Hearing the words "Painter" and "Acrylic", he pushed up his sunglasses.

His peach-blossom eyes looked through the lenses at the woman making a fuss beside him.

"Summer," he sighed lightly.

His tone carried thirty percent disdain, seventy percent helplessness, and a trace of tenderness so deep even he didn't notice it.

"Summer, you really are a fool."

"Hey! Who are you calling a fool?" Summer puffed up her cheeks like a unconvinced pufferfish.

"Takes one to know one!" she retorted, trying to win the argument.

Ethan couldn't help but laugh out loud.

He extended a long, fair finger and pointed at the huge wall from a distance, turning on the Architect's "Dimension Reduction Strike" mode:

"That is ceramic. You fool, who told you this was painted?"

"Huh? Cer... Ceramic?" Summer froze, her mouth forming an 'O' shape.

"This is a mosaic mural made of over 16,000 hand-painted ceramic tiles."

Ethan walked closer to the base of the wall and pointed to a slightly reflective square block near the ground:

"Only high-temperature fired glazed ceramics can maintain this luster under the erosion of sea breeze and scorching sun."

"Painted? Heh. It would look like a pockmarked face after half a year in this wind."

As he spoke, he turned to look at the bewildered Summer. That signature smirk on his lips deepened.

"Silly painter. Your professional sensitivity has not only been eaten by dogs but is also being rubbed on the ground by me, a layman."

"This is called Materials Science. Understand?"

Summer's face flushed red. She leaned close to the wall unconvinced.

"Fine, fine, fine! You know everything! You are the Encyclopedia of Architecture, okay?"

She muttered. To mask her embarrassment, she couldn't help but reach out a finger, wanting to poke that orange tile.

"Don't move," Ethan said suddenly.

Summer's finger froze: "What? It's not an antique. I can't even touch it?"

Ethan fished an alcohol wipe out of his pocket and handed it to her:

"God knows how many tourists have touched this wall. It's full of bacteria. Wipe it clean before you touch."

Summer looked at him: "Do you have OCD?"

"Obviously."

Ethan took a step back and raised the Leica camera in his hand.

"But I don't have OCD..." Summer said, but still opened the alcohol wipe obediently.

"Eh? Are you taking a picture of the wall?"

"Mn. Taking a picture of the wall," Ethan replied.

But the lens was not aimed at the magnificent rainbow wall.

In the viewfinder, it was Summer's back view in a sundress.

She was foolishly pressing her hand against the orange tile. The sunlight landed on the tips of her hair, looking warm and fuzzy.

Click.

The shutter sounded softly.

***

On the way back from the Rainbow Tower, the setting sun stretched their shadows long again.

That deep blue floral shirt billowed slightly in the sea breeze.

When they were almost downstairs at the hotel, Summer stopped.

She kicked a small pebble by the roadside, still wanting more, and looked up at him:

"Do you have plans tomorrow? Is there anything else fun nearby?"

Ethan stopped. He accurately tossed the empty water bottle into a trash can meters away.

Clang. A soft sound.

He turned around. He didn't recommend attractions excitedly like before.

He put his sunglasses back on, covering his eyes, and put his hands back into the pockets of those flashy shorts.

"Tomorrow..."

He paused. His voice dropped a few degrees, his emotions unreadable.

"Tomorrow, I want to be alone."

Ethan looked up at the sky that was about to darken.

"Mn. Tomorrow is my birthday."

The air went quiet for half a second.

"Huh?"

Summer's eyes widened suddenly.

Those round apricot eyes were filled with surprise, and then immediately bloomed into a huge smile:

"It's your birthday tomorrow! November 3rd!"