＊
Asahi stood in front of the mirror as his father helped him fold the kimono. The dark-blue shade predominated the color scheme, right down to the haori—a type of jacket worn on top of the kimono. The only garment which deviated from that theme was the sash, which provided a distinctive beige accent.
Although Asahi was a fair bit more slender than his father, the kimono managed to maintain its shape on his body quite well. Overall, his outfit was the very picture of refinement.
“Mhmm. I knew it’d suit you well,” Kazuaki said, looking pleased.
“Didn’t expect it to be so easy to move around wearing one of those things.”
“Yeah, it’s great. The real challenge is walking when you’re wearing wooden clogs. Well, I guess you just get used to it, like all things.”
Clothes really do make the man, Asahi thought as he checked himself out in the mirror. Especially ones like this which are worn only on special occasions. They hit different.
“Yo, yo! Looking handsome, fresh, and extra stylish!” Kazuaki praised his son to an overly-youthful beat for reasons beyond mortal comprehension. The little performance was odd, but it still made Asahi happy.
“Not gonna lie, I think I’m gonna feel a bit embarrassed about going outside in this.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s not like you’ll stand out or anything.”
“Good point.”
It was New Year’s, after all—a large number of people were out in similar traditional attire. Nobody would bat an eyelash at Asahi. Although he didn’t particularly care about how strangers would look at him, someone else’s opinion weighed on his mind. He worried about what a certain special someone thought of his attire...
“Asahi? Kazuaki? You can come in now,” Toko’s voice beckoned from the guest room.
“You heard her, Asahi. Let’s go show them how great you look,” Kazuaki urged, pushing his son from behind.
Asahi stood outside the room, his hands tentatively on the sliding screen’s handle.
Fuyuka is right there. I wonder what she’ll think of my kimono... I suppose being conscious of it means I see her as more than just a “friend.” He gathered his resolve and pushed the screen to the side. “We’re coming in.”
The scenery which unfolded from behind the screen left him planted in place. His muscles twitched and contracted, as if a current of electricity had passed through his body.
Asahi was left unnerved, his brain incapable of forming a single coherent thought. Suddenly, he recalled an identical situation in the past: Christmas Eve, when Fuyuka had donned that beautiful dress. He’d grown accustomed to seeing her on a regular basis, but she’d completely pulled the rug from underneath him. His tongue slipped back then, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from blurting out the word, “Beautiful.”
What Asahi was currently experiencing was something of a similar fashion. Fuyuka acted no less astonished herself, her eyes widening in pure shock.
It took them some time to finally speak. When they did, their conversation was... awkward, if one were to phrase it generously.
“Where did you get that dress?” he asked.
“Your mother was kind enough to let me wear it. What about you?”
“My dad gave it to me, actually. I think you look great in it.”
“I’m happy to hear you say that,” Fuyuka said, a smile dimpling her cheeks. Her grin was just as—no, more—lovely than ever, courtesy of the magnificent kimono she was wearing.
Asahi took another glance at the fair maiden in front of him. He found himself unable to take his eyes off her.
The kimono she wore was of the furisode variety, distinguished by its longer sleeves. The outer fabric was a light-peach color and embellished in long, dainty ribbon motifs that accentuated her graceful curves. This pattern was known as tabane-noshi, a popular design motif that was associated with good omens. It was believed that the number of ribbons corresponded to the amount of blessings one would receive from people. It also denoted the strong bond or relationship between individuals, whereas their length represented longevity.
This was all, of course, niche trivia that Asahi had no access to.
The kimono, and what it stood for, matched Fuyuka’s disposition immaculately. It was the ideal fit. Whether it was by a mere fortunate coincidence or some greater poetic intervention at play was anyone’s guess. What was more tangible, however, was Fuyuka’s impeccable beauty, which drew out the furisode’s full splendor.
My mom must’ve helped Fuyuka put on some makeup after she dressed her.
That being said, her makeup was by no means intrusive. It served to accentuate certain parts of her face, resulting in a mature impression while maintaining her innocent features. The faint trace of pink eyeliner, blush, and lipstick all seamlessly blended into the furisode’s intricate patterns. All in all, her ensemble collaborated to create a balanced, attractive look.
To top it off, Fuyuka’s hair—which usually ran down to her waist—had been gathered together in a bun and fastened with a red, flower-shaped hairpin. One delicate strand had been left loose. Her new hairstyle permitted glimpses of the white nape of her neck. A sweet fragrance wafted from her hair.
Fuyuka stepped closer to Asahi and whispered into his ear, “I think you look amazing in your kimono, too.”
Asahi’s heart skipped a beat. Although he felt his entire body burning up, he quickly brushed it off, attributing it to not being used to wearing stuffy clothes like the kimono. Fuyuka was much the same—her ears were tinged in pink.
Time marched on, and silence still persisted. They were both visibly embarrassed, to the point that they avoided any eye contact with each other.
“Reminds me of the good ol’ glory days,” Kazuaki noted.
“Mhm,” Toko replied.
What went through the minds of the married pair as they watched the innocent, youthful couple from afar? Did they feel the pang of loneliness now that their child had grown up? Or did they feel a rush of happiness as they witnessed the bud of a possible future family blooming? Or did they even, perhaps, see themselves in Asahi and Fuyuka?
“Look here, you two,” Toko chimed in, causing them to turn and face her. “Since you’re already dressed up, why not take a picture while we’re at it?”
“Great idea, dear! I have a camera and everything, lemme go get it!” Kazuaki declared, bolting out of the room. He came back in a flash. The clear lens pointed at Asahi and Fuyuka belonged to a SLR camera that Asahi was all too familiar with.
“Asahi, relax your face a bit,” Toko nagged.
“You know how bad I am with having my picture taken.”
“C’mon Himuro, show me that million-dollar smile!” Kazuaki exclaimed.
“I-I’m trying to!”
His parents watched tenderly at the kids’ clumsy smiles.
“Move to the left, Asahi!”
“Like this?”
“And you, Himuro—a bit to the right, please?”
“Is this all right?”
“Yes, yes, this is wonderful! Keep going!”
“B-But we’ll bump into each other if we continue like this...” Fuyuka protested.
“That’s exactly the point! Let’s cut out the middle man and have you two lovebirds standing shoulder-to-shoulder—ouch, ouch, ouch! You’re hurting me, dear!”
“That’s enough fun. Take the picture already,” Toko commanded.
“Right away, ma’am!”
Asahi and Fuyuka exchanged glances and burst out into laughter.
“Whoa, now this the money shot!”
Kchak! The camera shutter went off, preserving the first page of a delightful story to come. Much like the upcoming spring season, the picture displayed a pleasant, warm ambience.