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Chika & Toshio - One Shot |
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It was a quiet afternoon that had set everything off. There had been some talk of going out, Toshi had suggested going to the new teashop in the city, however, the empty teapot and cups sitting between them were all that remained of that idea. In the hot afternoon sun, Toshi’s tea-induced sugar rush had been short lived, and he had ended up sprawled along the cool earth while Chika found some hidden reserves of energy to continue sitting up, working on a painting while she recounted an endless stream of trivia about the plants around them – not expecting anyone to listen, but happy for the chance to speak up.
This wasn’t the Chika that lived on the outside. Chika could remember some of the names of the other students in her classes, she could end up in conversations while she walked across campus which all started with a polite ‘hello’ and ended with an even more polite ‘goodbye’, however, it was more of fluke or a practiced nicety. Her teachers couldn’t put a face to a name when they marked her assignments, and the students that did know her face rarely knew her name. The endless chattering on about azaleas, or her newly planted rabbit-eared irises, or her bemoaning and joy of her dwindling number of ladybugs to clear up the pollen in her garden was more than she had said in any one class since the beginning of the year.
Which would have made the whole scene a bit odd for anyone who knew Toshi. His clothes were as loud as he was, but today, it was only his clothes that were doing the talking. He had drowned out the drone of Chi’s info-bites to become lost in his thoughts and just watched her or one of the rogue ladybugs that supposedly were becoming an extinct species up there on the rooftop garden. Not that it particularly bothered him – sweat had flattened his naturally rebellious hair to his head, and beneath his ill-decided pants and shirt, more sweat was acting like a glue between his clothes and skin.
It had been a long, lazy sort of afternoon. Somewhere in his thoughts, Toshi found an idea that he voiced before he even considered whether he cared about the answer enough to want to hear it.
Interrupting Chika mid-sentence, he said; “So what got you into this plant-botanical stuff anyway?”
The colour rose in her cheeks as Chika thought over the question. Toshi had asked several questions over the last few months about her, and she had reacted to each one the same way. No one asked her these sorts of questions. Her mother may have but Chika rarely answered her, and friends… most of her friends – all of her friends had been just acquaintances until Toshi came along, and they just asked questions so they could continue talking about themselves. Talking about herself? No, Chika didn’t do that.
“Well, I, ah…” She drifted off as she tormented her palette with the paintbrush, destroying two of the colours she needed to create a third she definitely didn’t. “It’s out in the sun, and… you…” Frowning as she made another off strike with the brush that she would have to put down to artistic licence, she realised she would have to stop to give Toshi a sensible answer; “Father likes it, he taught me.” It sounded as lame out loud as it had in her head.
“That’s cool.” Chika knew it really wasn’t but felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips at Toshi’s confirmation. She continued the painting with more gusto and conviction, which still didn’t translate to artistic talent.
After a while of silence, Chika having already decided the topic of why she liked gardening being dead and buried, Toshi said, “You must miss your dad or something, huh? I suppose it’s different if they’re dead to when they’re just not around.”
The paintbrush bristled like a squashed bug onto the canvas. Chika could feel the colour shoot to her face. “Oh no. No no no no. My father isn’t dead,” she was rushing over her words. “He’s just away on business. There’s a big conference in Tokyo and he had to go. It’s just like your parents.”
Toshi rolled over onto his stomach, propped himself up on his elbows and stared at her. He wasn’t smiling anymore. It was weird. Toshi was always mucking about – he never looked puzzled or serious, and now he looked a bit of both. “Everyone knows, Chi-Chi. Every time anyone mentions their mum and dad, you’re always talking about how happy your parents are together and how great your dad is. It’s sorta obvious.”
Everyone? Chika couldn’t believe it. Why did everyone think her father was dead? It had to be Toshi playing a game with her. She straightened her back and put the canvas aside. “My father isn’t dead.” She rose stiffly, staring down at him and feeling all the more superior for it – she’d prove that this time she wouldn’t buy into his teasing. “I’m not having this conversation.”
Leaving the tea and the painting behind, she turned and headed for the stairs.
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it!” Toshi called after her. Chika could hear him stumbling to get up to follow her. “I just wanted to let you know that it’s okay, you know?”
“You can talk to me when you’ve learnt your manners,” Chika snapped.
“Come on. Relax.” Chika recoiled from his touch as he tried to put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re just grouchy because of the heat.”
She crossed her arms and refused to look at him. Her face was still burning, she wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing her face burn up. “I think you should go.” Toshio just hovered in front of her. “It’s really time for you to go.”
 Matthew Cable · Mon Sep 08, 2014 @ 01:00am · 0 Comments |
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