The Spider Lily Turns into a Chrysanthemum

Ichimaku – Chapter 1

The air smelled like salt and charcoal.

Yoshino stood on the terrace of a beach house in Shimoda, turning pieces of meat over a grill while the late afternoon sun reflected across the water.

The house behind her was beautiful. White walls, large windows, and wide doors opened toward the ocean. Beyond the terrace, green grass gave way to pale sand and then blue water.

It was warm, but not uncomfortable. A breeze came in from the sea and moved Yoshino’s hair away from her shoulders.

Two small figures ran along the grass near the beach. Yoshino couldn’t quite make out their faces. Every time she tried to focus on them, they seemed to move just beyond where she could see them clearly.

One of them turned toward her.

“Mommy, we’re so hungry!” The other child ran after them.

“Dad’s right behind us! We can’t wait to eat!”

Yoshino smiled.

She looked beyond them.

Someone was walking up from the beach… a man.

She could hear children laughing.

The sun was behind him, leaving his face hidden in shadow. Yoshino raised a hand to block the light, but it didn’t help. She could see his shape and the easy way he walked toward the house, but nothing that told her who he was.

Strangely, that didn’t bother her.

She knew him. At least, the Yoshino standing in this place knew him.

“Well, come eat—”

“Yoshino.”

She stopped.

The beach disappeared.

“Yoshino.”

Her eyes opened.

Yoshino inhaled sharply and lifted her head from the pillow.

For several seconds, she had no idea where she was. Then her bedroom came into focus.

The curtains were drawn. Her suitcase was still sitting near the wall, only partially unpacked. A few things she’d pulled out earlier had been left on the dresser.

And crouched beside her bed was Shouma.

He looked at her calmly.

“I was trying to wake you up slowly,” he said, “but you started talking about food, and now I’m hungry.”

Yoshino stared at him.

“We can’t eat downstairs until you wake up.”

“Shouma, wait—what?”

She pushed herself upright. The movement immediately made her regret it. “Damn.”

Yoshino pressed one hand against her forehead and closed her eyes, “I didn’t realize how not sleeping enough was going to give me such a headache.”

She and Kirishima had stayed awake the entire night before she left Tokyo. Then she’d spent most of the train ride unable to sleep properly, despite how tired she’d been.

Apparently her body had finally decided it was done cooperating.

“But yeah,” she muttered. “I gotta eat something. Maybe that’s why I was dreaming about food.”

“Probably,” Shouma reached toward the nightstand, “Here.”

Yoshino opened her eyes. He was holding out a glass of water and some headache medicine.

She looked at them, then at him, “You already brought me meds?”

“Yeah.”

A tired smile crossed her face, “Thank you,” she took them from him, “you always have my back, and I’m so grateful for this.”

Shouma’s expression barely changed.

“It’s just medicine.”

“I know,” Yoshino swallowed the pills and took a long drink of water, “but still.”

She handed the glass back, “Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

Shouma placed it on the nightstand. 

Yoshino rubbed her eyes, “So, does this thing downstairs require me to dress up, or can I just—”

She finally looked at him properly. Her hand stopped halfway across her face.

Shouma was dressed unusually well.

He wore a clean white dress shirt tucked into black slacks, although the bow tie around his collar had been left undone. A brown leather watch with silver accents sat around his wrist. His usual piercings and black hair kept the outfit from looking overly formal on him.

Yoshino blinked, “Wow.”

Shouma looked down at himself, “What?”

“You look great.”

“Oh.”

His face remained mostly indifferent,  “Thanks.”

Yoshino smiled, “What’s with the outfit?”

“Renji told me I had to.”

A pause.

“Or else.”

Yoshino chuckled, “Yeah, well, that’s the only way he can make you wear what he wants.”

Shouma shrugged.

“You’re a good-looking guy,” Yoshino continued. “And I think Gramps sees you as an extension of himself.”

Shouma raised an eyebrow.

Yoshino gestured vaguely toward his clothes, “He looks good, so we should also look good beside him.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

That was about as much enthusiasm as Yoshino expected from him on the subject of formalwear.

She pushed the covers away and climbed out of bed.

Her headache was still there, but the medicine would deal with it soon enough.

“Okay. What the hell am I supposed to wear, then?”

“Closet.”

Yoshino looked at him pointing at the closet, “You already know what I’m supposed to wear?”

“Tsubaki.”

That explained everything.

Yoshino walked across the room and opened the closet.

She stopped.

An ivory dress had been placed neatly inside, separate from everything else.

The ivory dress was fitted through the waist and fell to mid-calf, with a structured, almost corseted bodice and a high neckline. Its pale fabric was covered in elaborate floral and bird motifs in deep red, green, blue, and gold, with the print becoming richer and more detailed toward the skirt. It was elegant, expensive-looking, and slightly eccentric. The kind of dress Tsubaki would choose without thinking twice about the price. 

Yoshino reached out and touched the fabric, “Wow,” she pulled it from the closet, “this is gorgeous.”

Then she found the tag. Her expression changed.

“And fucking expensive.”

Shouma was still sitting beside the bed, “Yup.”

“Yeah, this was definitely Tsubaki’s doing.”

“Yup.”

Yoshino turned the dress around to examine it again.

She liked expensive things as much as anyone else. That didn’t mean she enjoyed discovering that Tsubaki had casually put something in her closet that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent.

Yoshino sighed, “Well, now I definitely have to take a shower.”

She hung the dress carefully back in the closet and looked toward Shouma.

“Do you mind if I take a quick shower?”

“I don’t. Do you want me to tell Tsubaki to give you another thirty minutes?”

“No, it’ll take ten minutes max.”

Shouma looked at her, “Ten?”

“Five minutes to shower. Five minutes to dress and do my hair.”

He didn’t look convinced.

Yoshino pointed at him, “I can do it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face did.”

“My face always looks like this.”

“Fair.” She started toward the bathroom, then stopped, “Just chill here.”

Shouma glanced at her.

“I don’t want to walk downstairs by myself.”

He didn’t ask why. He didn’t tease her about it. He simply leaned back and made himself comfortable, “Okay.”

Yoshino disappeared into the bathroom. A moment later, the door closed.

Shouma looked toward it briefly before pulling out his phone.

To him, there wasn’t anything particularly unusual about Yoshino asking him to stay in her room while she showered.

That was how things had always been between them. Yoshino trusted him.

It wasn’t that Shouma didn’t notice her. He wasn’t blind, and he certainly wasn’t indifferent to her. He had simply learned a long time ago that whatever he felt was his responsibility, not hers.

So when Yoshino changed clothes around the corner, fell asleep beside him, asked him to wait outside a dressing room, or told him to stay in her bedroom while she showered, he treated it the same way he treated everything else she asked of him. Normally.

That was part of why she trusted him enough to ask in the first place. Shouma understood that.

He also understood something he would never bother explaining to her.

He liked being the person she trusted this way. There were sides of Yoshino that most people didn’t get to see. Not even Kirishima.

The Yoshino who woke up confused and half asleep. The Yoshino who complained about him not eating enough, and the Yoshino who told him he was being a glutton. The Yoshino who asked him to stay because she didn’t want to be alone.

Small things; very ordinary things. Shouma had never needed them to be anything more than that.

Water began running behind the bathroom door. He looked down at his phone.

Ten minutes.

Knowing Yoshino, probably twelve.

Shouma settled into the blue chair at the corner of Yoshino’s room and waited.

Downstairs, Renji and Tsubaki had prepared an entire welcome-home party for her.

There would be food, people, questions, and enough attention directed at Yoshino to annoy her within the first half hour. But for another few minutes, none of them had her yet.

It was only Yoshino and Shouma.

Just like before she left.