Origami Girl

Prologue

"I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed, and that I stood next to you here like this?"

― Murakami Haruki, Norwegian Wood

 "If I were to die, I'd like to be reborn as a cherry blossom," she had said the last spring, painfully opening her heart under the farce of a gentle smile. "That way, I won't have to suffer any more."

Those words that escaped from her parted lips echoed in her head as she tread on the pavement, blanketed with the bright hues of the fallen leaves.

The afternoon wind blew gently across autumn-time Hakodate, the salty scent of the sea thick in the air. The girl walked down the avenue, holding her file tightly against her chest. Her silky shoulder-length hair, slightly wavy, fluttered in the breeze. The leaves of the trees lining the front yards of the houses on both sides a menagerie of gold and crimson. It was fall, the season of change, where all the leaves dry up and cascaded to the ground, making the bare trees seem dead, only to be reborn in the springtime. Such was the cycle of seasons.

An irony, that death could be so beautiful. She had tried to explain how she felt, but he didn't believe her. He didn't really understand her, but he was all that she had in the cold, cruel world.

Dried leaves crunched underneath her feet. The crisp noise was the only sound to be heard, save for the relentless howling of the wind and the rustling of the dying leaves. She was alone that afternoon, since he couldn't be with her due to certain commitments. Thinking about him, she sighed. It was just dreadful to walk along those avenues with no one for company.

The chilly breeze was sure strong that day, and once, the girl's salmon hairband nearly slid off. She quickly reached out with her left hand to adjust it, but while doing so, another gust of strong wind hit, and somehow the file she was clutching on to slipped out of her grasp, spilling out its contents, which then went on fluttering and soaring in the air, tossed and turned by the turbulent wind.

What a pain, she thought, as she chased after the worksheets, catching some in mid-air and picking up some on the ground. As she bent down to pick up one of the last pieces of work, she felt someone coming up from behind her. Quickly, stuffing whatever paper she picked up back into her file, she quickly stood up and spun around.

It was none other than him. Her lips curled into a smile, and he answered it with a somewhat awkward smile, biting his lower lip. In his right hand were a couple of worksheets, some of which were soaking wet.

"Hey," he began, "Sorry it got wet," he apologised shyly.

The girl giggled as she took the soiled pieces of paper from him. The boy's cheeks turned beetroot.

"It's fine, it wasn't your fault now isn't it?" the girl asked in response, comforting him.

"Well, you can borrow mine if you want, there's a lot of important stuff in there you know," he offered, "You can photocopy it or something."

The girl thanked him and waited for him to fish out his worksheets from his blue haversack. She received them with both hands, and placed them in her file. Then, as a surprise, she stood on her toes, reached up to the boy's face and pecked him on his cheek. He couldn't help but blush nervously in response.

"Chemistry is such a chore isn't it?" the girl complained as she began to walk, acting as if nothing had happened.

Upon hearing this, the boy smiled, the wind sweeping his fringe to the left. Her complaining was just so typical of her.

"Well, if you know how to manage your time properly and if you work hard, it'll be fine," the boy replied.

"That's what you always say," the girl sighed, knowing better than to continue the conversation.

The boy snickered. They walked the next few steps in silence, when the girl suddenly stopped and turned around sharply.

"Wait a minute," she said, shooting the boy with a penetrating accusatory glare, "Isn't today Wednesday?" she questioned.

"U-um, yes, it is," the boy replied, stuttering.

The girl sneered.

"Speaking of which," she said, her tone unwavering, "I wonder, don't you have anything on Wednesday, my good sir?"

She could see his Adam's apple move as he gulped. She knew he had him in a corner. As evil as it sounded, she kind of enjoyed it, although only a small corner of her heart would –albeit guiltily- admit it. Seeing that the boy could not reply, she decided to cut in, taking the opportunity to speak.

"Why aren't you at Badminton practice today, mister Badminton captain?" she asked sarcastically.

He smiled nervously.

"Oh well," he said, his right hand scratching the back of his head, "Well . . . I just wanted to accompany home you know? I heard there wasn't any guitar rehearsal today," he continued.

The girl's heart instantly melted.

Aww, how sweet, she thought to herself. She instantly felt guilty for her sarcasm earlier.

"But," the boy said, "I have a surprise for you."

"What?" she asked, curious.

"Well, you'll have to follow me then," the boy beckoned.

The girl followed the boy down the avenue, past a few more houses, before they reached a public car park. The boy led her to a corner in the car park, where a scooter was parked. It was painted red and was shiny. The scent of the new rubber seats was rather strong.

The girl gasped in surprise, her right palm covering her mouth.

"I-is this yours?" she blurted.

The boy nodded.

"W-when did you buy it?" she asked.

"Well, my father got it for me last week," he replied.

"Ah, that's great!" she exclaimed, examining the new scooter.

She ran her palm on the rugged rubber handles, admiring every detail. The boy could only smile to himself as he observed his girlfriend's interest in his new vehicle, very much acting like an excited small child. After a while, she seemingly snapped out of it, probably after hearing her boyfriend trying to contain his laughter. She immediately took a step back from the scooter, and giggled, embarrassed. Then, she stole a glance at her watch, before scurrying to her boyfriend's side.

"Here, I have something for you," she mumbled underneath her breath, her hand fishing into her school bag.

"Hmm, what is it?" he asked, curious.

The girl handed him a small, unfinished paper cherry blossom.

"Ah," he responded, "Thanks," he thanked her.

"I-I actually wanted to give it to you sometime later, but I don't know . . . I hope you like it," she said, her palm swiping her fringe to the side.

It was a small cherry blossom, folded using light pink paper. It was rather shoddy handiwork, but he knew she just picked origami up and was struggling with it. What touched him was that she tried.

"I'll keep this," he said, "It's cute."

The girl blushed. She hadn't planned to give it to him then, it was just that . . . she just felt like she had to, for some unexplainable reason.

"Well, I should better get going now," she said, and was about to leave.

Without warning, the boy reached for her hand, and the sensation of his warm palm made her stop in her tracks.

"How about I give you a ride home?" he offered.

The girl was reluctant to accept the offer at first, but she finally agreed. The boy went over to his scooter and searched for something, but then he stopped and looked up.

"Crap," he muttered under his breath.

"What is it?" the girl asked, concerned.

"I only brought one helmet," he said, disappointment evident in his voice.

"Ah," the girl said, "That's fine then, I'll take the tram. Thanks for the offer anyway."

However, before she could leave, he stopped her again.

"I-it's fine, I won't wear the helmet then. You can wear it, if it troubles you," he offered.

The girl examined her boyfriend. His hazel eyes seemed to plead with her not to go. He bit his lower lip nervously. Eventually, she agreed.

"Nonetheless," she said, "You have to put the helmet on."

"But-"

"No, you put it on," the girl said, snatching the helmet from the boy's arms and fastening it on his head.

She noticed him blushing as she fastened the strap of his helmet underneath his chin. Intending to lighten up the mood, she pinched his cheeks, and both of them laughed.

The girl sat behind the boy, obviously, with no helmet on. It was against the law, but her boyfriend assured her that they won't be caught. They then took off onto the streets of the small city. She lived just a few streets away from her boyfriend's upper middle class condominium in Showabashi, so the distance wouldn't be a problem.

The streets were rather empty that late afternoon. Only the occasional tram pulled past, with the addition of the odd lorry or car. Only the humming of the scooter engine could be heard. As the scooter accelerated, she could feel the wind blowing onto her face. Refreshing, she thought.

It was nearly evening, and the temperature was dropping. While stopping at the intersection, the boy sneezed a couple of times.

He must be cold, she thought. Indeed, her boyfriend had a spleen infection after some trauma when he fell during training, making him susceptible to common infections. It was due to a weakened immune system he said. What really happened, she did not know. He didn't want to tell her more other than that he suffered an 'injury'. An injury of what kind, she asked, to which he wouldn't specify. Nevertheless, she found out from some other people on his team that some second years were kind of jealous that they had a junior for their captain, and kind of ganged up on him. In a society bound by traditions and social hierarchies, supposedly such a thing as meritocracy does not exist. Not to say that our system isn't, it is, but there are just some certain aspects of society and people that stick to them through the centuries. Of course, he didn't want to tell her, he didn't want her to know, but she found out nonetheless. Thinking about it, she didn't think it would make a difference to him whether she found out or not, since she didn't tell him that she knew, much less did anything about it.

That aside, she wrapped her arms from behind him, enveloping him. She could smell the scent of the soap that he used, and the mild odour of his sweat, but she didn't care about that. She could feel his warmth, but she thought he must have been freezing, so she held on to him anyway. Nonetheless, deep in her heart she knew that was just a mere alibi to cover up for her selfish desire to just hold onto him.

The two stayed like this for a while, the boy manoeuvring the scooter while the girl held on to him. They rode past rows of shops, houses and low rise apartments, following the route the trams ply daily.

It happened in a flash. Nobody knew what caused it exactly, but it happened.

The boy remembered being thrown of the scooter, and rolling on the asphalt ground. He felt a sharp pain in his right leg, and wasn't able to move it properly. He had a few scratches on his arms and cheek, but other than that, he was alright. The first thing that came onto his mid was the girl. Gasping for breath, he called out her name.

"Nanako-chan!" he yelled, repeatedly.

He turned his head around and scanned the scene. The scooter was on the ground near the side of the pavement, lying down on its side, but was largely alright. He looked around again, then he saw her. What a pitiful sight it was.

Struggling to get up, he limped his way to where the girl was lying down, the pain on his injured right leg growing even more excruciating with every step.

The girl was on the ground, nearly unmoving, save for the raspy movements of her chest, struggling to catch shallow breaths. Her schoolbag was thrown to the side, its contents spilled. Crimson blood began pooling at her head and trickling out of her nostrils.

"Nana-chan!" the boy gasped in horror as he quickly kneeled down beside her.

He tried to prop her up, lifting her back from the ground with his and resting her head on his lap. He could feel her warm blood soaking into his pants. He was so shocked he couldn't find the words to say anything. He could only stare at the girl. The girl returned his gaze with glassy, tearful eyes. She blinked, and a single tear ran down her pale cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered softly, "For everything."

Thank you? The boy thought to himself. It was my fault, I did this to her. If it weren't for me, none of this would've happened. It's my fault. It's all my fault.

He couldn't hold his tears back any longer. They just began to fall freely, dropping onto the girl's cheeks. Propping her up by her limp shoulders, he called out her name.

"Nanako-chan!" he shouted in between sobs, "Don't go! Please!" he pleaded.

He kept shaking her lifeless body, but the sweet girl, the girl he loved and treasured so much, was gone forever.