A mere four-minute walk from Kichijoji Station led them to the East entrance of Inokashira Park, where they were greeted by a scene straight out of a postcard.

Despite catching glimpses of Inokashira Park on TV and the internet, seeing it in person left Haru awestruck. While he had seen his fair share of cherry blossoms, the sight of Inokashira Lake nestled in the heart of the park added an extra layer of beauty. In the highland region of Yoshino, lakes and oceans were rare sights, making this view even more special. Fujiwara, too, seemed to be captivated by the scenery.

Haru began searching for picnic spot, only to discover that all the prime locations were already claimed. If they had hopped on the train earlier, they would had gotten one.

"Look, there's a boat rental." Fujiwara grinned with excitement. "Fancy a boat ride?"

Before Haru could say anything, the neighbor dashed toward the long bridge spanning the lake, leading them to the boat rental stall. A signboard in front of the ticket counter detailed the rental fees, and Fujiwara read them aloud.

"The swan boat is seven hundred yen for thirty minutes. The pedal boat is six hundred, and the rowboat is seven hundred yen for an hour. Which one do you think we should pick?"

As they contemplated their options, a murmur from behind caught Haru's attention. "We shouldn't take the swan boat," said a girl cautiously.

"But the boat is so cute," her partner complained in a Kansai accent, likely another Southerner like Haru. "I thought you were into cute stuff..."

"Legend says that if we get on the swan boat, our relationship won't last long. Did you see a red temple near the Tokugawa Iemitsu statue that we passed by earlier?"

"What about that?"

"It was the temple of Benten. The goddess despises happy couples. Every couple that gets on a swan boat on this lake will break up."

The warning sent the couple away immediately.

Fujiwara nudged Haru. "Are you okay?"

"Did you hear what the girl behind us said before?"

"Yeah. Benten's fiery jealousy towards happy couples. I've heard that story before." Fujiwara smirked. "But why should we be worried? We are not dating."

...

They eventually settled on a rowboat, opting to spend an hour circling the lake. It was his first time on a boat, and he found himself struggling to keep balance. Fujiwara noticed his struggle and told him to chill. He told him not to stare too much at the water or it might freak him out about drowning.

With patience, Fujiwara showed him the art of rowing. The oars were thick and heavy, they required synchronized pedaling for smooth navigation. To Haru surprise, Fujiwara could handle the oars with ease.

"How did you learn to handle boats?" he asked.

"Everyone in Misawa knows how to ride a boat. It's just part of growing up there. In a port town like ours, boats are everywhere," he said, double-paddling as he steered the boat away to make room for another one. "Do you play any sports?"

"Not particularly, but I'm no stranger to hard work. My family runs a ryokan. Why?"

"The strength shows."

"What about you? Do you play sports?"

"I used to play ice hockey in high school," Fujiwara disclosed, looking slightly nostalgic. "But that's in the past."

Haru had expected the neighbor to mention another sport, perhaps baseball or basketball. Fujiwara's slender frame didn't seem suited for a rugged sport like ice hockey. "Why did you stop?"

"Because I hated it," Fujiwara said, looking upward and studying the thick, cotton-candy clouds. "Now, tell me. What's your big story of 'coming to Tokyo'?"

"After I passed the Center Test I couldn't make my decision on time and all the seats in Osaka and Kyoto universities were already taken. Mother suggested that I try for Tokyo, and I got accepted into Hitotsubashi. Strange, don't you think?"

"Perhaps it was meant to be."

"You know what people say, if it's meant to be yours, it won't skip you."

"They're wrong. Sometimes you just can't have what's trully yours."

Fujiwara's jaw tensed, and he looked down, his eyes fixated on the rippling water. Before Haru knew it, the familiar silence had already loomed back over them. He rummaged through the picnic basket to take out two juice boxes and offered one to Fujiwara, hoping a drink might ease him. The neighbor accepted but didn't drink it.

"Why do you think Benten hates couples?" Fujiwara suddenly asked.

Haru startled. "I, uh, I'm not familiar with the mythology."

"Benten embodies everything flowing – water, talent, love. Love flows like water, but why does she hate it? Shouldn't a goddess protect love?"

His philosophical questions caught Haru off guard. "Perhaps Benten is single?"

"Single?" Fujiwara shot him a look as if Haru had made a rude comment. "Do you know about another version that claims Benten wed a five-headed dragon while creating Enoshima Island? It's hard to imagine she'd pick such a ugly partner, being a goddess..."

"Maybe the dragon had a charming personality?"

"You believe in such inner beauty thingy?"

"Well, people are more than just looks."

"You're right," Fujiwara sighed, passing the juice to Haru. "You drink this. Strawberries repel Benten's curse. Don't want to stay single forever, do you?"

"Don't you want to drink too? To repel the curse?"

"Some curses can't be broken, even by the most delicious strawberry juice."

It was an odd answer. Haru, having learned his lesson not to pry too far and risk souring the neighbor's mood, decided to rest the matter.

After an hour of rowing, they disembarked and resumed their search for a picnic spot. Inokashira Park was alive with activity—children playing, elderly individuals strolling, and groups of all ages enjoying the picturesque surroundings. After two circuits of the park, they finally found a sloped area near the lake—not the most comfortable, but enough for the two of them.

After laying out the picnic mat near a group of high school students, Haru retrieved the rice boxes. Meanwhile, Fujiwara was captivated by the blossoms overhead.

"Isn't it sad?" he mused, eyes studied the pink flowers. "These blossoms will wither and fall in a few weeks. Why can't they stay this beautiful all year?"

"Because there are seasons?"

"But why can't these flowers be excluded from the changing seasons? Why must they die just because the season changes? They don't harm anyone..."

"Because if they stayed like this, people wouldn't find them special anymore," Haru gestured to the mass of picnic mats. "We're here to appreciate these flowers because they'll die."

"That's a strange perspective," Fujiwara remarked, curling his lips.

"Strange how?"

"If something is special, shouldn't it last forever? What's special should remain special, even when it's gone."

"Best to enjoy the warm rice box while it lasts," Haru tried to dodge because he had no answer to that question. "Or it'll get cold soon."

"You sound like Nishii-san... always reminding me to eat. Are you two related?"

"Not that I know of. But I considered her like an aunt."

As they savored their meals, Haru contemplated the irony of Fujiwara calling his thoughts weird; Fujiwara's behavior wasn't ordinary either. Haru had never met anyone like him—someone who seemed to blurt out anything that crossed his mind, skipping small talk and going straight to the hard, thought-provoking questions, as if he never bothered to practice his tatemae and honne. The closest person he knew to Fujiwara was probably Chie, he remembered, but even Chie still knew how to behave in certain situations.

Fujiwara was just so... different. Haru was intrigued by the idea of letting his manners slide and being savagely honest like him. However, growing up in a ryokan had taught him always to be polite, put on his best facade, and bury everything else behind. He understood that he had to do this for the rest of his life – or at least as long as he was willing to stay in Japan. Grandmother once told him that the secret to living in harmony was to keep his opinions to himself. It was far more important to agree with what everybody had already agreed on. It released you from the burden of choosing what is right, said Grandmother.

"Nakano-san," Fujiwara suddenly called, disrupted him from his thoughts. "Do you have other plans for today?"

"No. Do you want to see someone else? Or do something else?"

Fujiwara shook his head. "Close your eyes," he abruptly added, catching his confusion. "Just do it."

Haru complied. "Now what?"

"What do you see?"

"Darkness."

"Other than that?"

"I could start imagining things if that was what you wanted."

The neighbor said nothing.

"Well, what about you? What do you see?"

Silence. After a few more seconds, Haru peeked. The neighbor still closed his eyes, seemingly lost in the warm atmosphere. He was smiling. Haru knew that Fujiwara saw something.

Haru's phone chimed. A new message from Nishii-san popped out.

"Nishii-san is asking how the picnic was."

Fujiwara opened his eyes. "Well, clearly you tried and succeeded in persuading me."

Haru typed, 'He enjoyed the picnic,' and sent it to Nishii-san. Suddenly an idea hit him. "Fujiwara-san, would you like to take a selfie with me?"

"To support your argument to Nishii-san that I was enjoying the hanami?"

A huge wave of shame rushed over him. Fujiwara saw the text. "I was just telling—"

"Selfie sounds great." Fujiwara cut him off and took over the phone. They had to move closer to include the sakura in the background.

"Say 'neighbors'!" Fujiwara exclaimed, throwing up a peace sign.

"Neighbors!"

Haru chuckled. The photo came out fantastic. He took a few more shots and sent them over to Nishii-san, who replied with enthusiastic stickers. A sense of pride and relief filled over him, knowing that Nishii-san's planned hanami had gone well after quite a bit of effort.

"Did you blink first?" Fujiwara asked. "Or did I?"

"I didn't notice. Why?"

"Anyone who blinks first dies first."

"Really? That sounds scary."

"Nah, don't worry. Chronologically, I'm going to die first before you." He patted Haru's shoulder. "I'm older than you."

"Chronologically? By how many years?"

He gazed at the sky and murmured, "Around three years. Assuming you're eighteen."

"I am eighteen. But you look young, Fujiwara-san."

"I'm still in my early twenties, you know. Not eighty."

Haru apologized, and Fujiwara grinned back. He thought Fujiwara was being serious. As Haru pocketed his phone, Nishii-san sent back their first selfie. 'This is my favorite,' she wrote.

In that photo, Fujiwara's smile was different. He looked genuinely happy.

Suddenly, Haru felt that it was his favorite too.

---

*Honne and tatemae are the "faces" that the Japanese use in their society. Honne refers to the real face, one's true feeling, desires and opinions, that shouldn't be expressed openly as they may oppose the societal norms or things that generally agreed on, or simply be considered rude.
Tatemae, on the other hand, is the public face, the outher facade that is socially acceptable facade that one presents in public. Many believe that tatemae is used to conform to societal expectations, maintain harmony, and avoid conflict.