#aoiwave | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aoiwavesblog · 1 month ago

Text

Whispers of Cherry Blossoms

Spring

Tsukiko Yamada stood frozen at the entrance to class 2-B, clutching her transfer papers so tightly they crinkled at the edges. The April breeze gently swept cherry blossom petals through the open windows, scattering them across the polished floor. Twenty-eight pairs of eyes turned to her, and Tsukiko felt her throat constrict.

"Please welcome Yamada Tsukiko-san, who's joining us from Hokkaido," the teacher announced.

Tsukiko bowed deeply, her long black hair falling forward like a curtain. "P-pleased to meet you all," she whispered, the words barely audible.

"You may take the empty seat by the window, next to Ayanami-san," the teacher instructed. "Ayanami-san, please raise your hand."

A slender arm rose from the third row. Tsukiko looked up to see a girl with short, tousled hair dyed a soft lavender color and eyes that reminded her of summer storm clouds. The girl smiled, and something inside Tsukiko's chest fluttered.

"I'm Ayanami Rei," the girl said as Tsukiko slid into the neighboring desk. "Class representative. If you need anything at all, just ask."

"Th-thank you," Tsukiko mumbled, keeping her eyes on her desk.

Later, during lunch, Tsukiko sat alone beneath a cherry tree in the courtyard, picking at her bento box. Moving to Tokyo after her father's transfer had been difficult. She missed the quiet mountains of Hokkaido, the familiar faces of her old school.

"Mind if I join you?"

Tsukiko looked up, startled. Ayanami stood there, holding her own lunch, head tilted slightly.

"N-no, please," Tsukiko gestured to the space beside her, then immediately regretted how eagerly she'd responded.

Ayanami sat comfortably close, their uniform skirts almost touching. "So, Hokkaido, huh? I've always wanted to visit during winter. Is the snow really as beautiful as they say?"

Tsukiko nodded, surprised by how easily the words came. "The whole world turns white. On clear nights, with the moon reflecting off the snow, you can read a book outside at midnight without any lights."

"That sounds magical," Ayanami said, leaning back against the tree trunk. "Tokyo must feel overwhelming in comparison."

"It's... loud," Tsukiko admitted. "And there are so many people."

Ayanami laughed, the sound like wind chimes. "Well, now you have at least one friend in this crowd."

*Friend*. The word warmed Tsukiko's heart more than she expected.

Summer

By summer break, Tsukiko couldn't remember what life had been like before Ayanami. They studied together, ate lunch together, and walked home together, taking the long route through the park to extend their time together.

Ayanami was everything Tsukiko wasn't—confident, athletic, popular. She played on the school volleyball team, served on the student council, and knew exactly what she wanted to be (a marine biologist) and where she would study (Tokyo University).

Tsukiko was content to orbit in Ayanami's brilliant light, to be the quiet shadow to her friend's vibrant presence. She kept a journal filled with observations about Ayanami: how she tucked her hair behind her ear when concentrating, how she always gave her umbrella to others when it rained, how her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when she laughed genuinely.

One humid July evening, they sat on Ayanami's bedroom floor, oscillating fan blowing warm air across their faces as they worked on summer homework.

"I can't focus anymore," Ayanami groaned, flopping backward onto the tatami mat. "Let's go to the summer festival this weekend. There's one at the Meiji shrine."

"In yukata?" Tsukiko asked, imagining Ayanami in traditional summer wear.

"Of course! I have an extra you can borrow. Blue would suit you perfectly."

That Saturday, Tsukiko stood in Ayanami's room, heart pounding as her friend helped her into the borrowed yukata. Ayanami's fingers brushed against Tsukiko's skin as she adjusted the collar, sending shivers down her spine.

"There," Ayanami said softly, turning Tsukiko toward the mirror. "You look beautiful."

Tsukiko barely recognized herself in the midnight blue yukata patterned with white lilies. Beside her, Ayanami wore a lavender yukata that matched her hair, adorned with swirling patterns reminiscent of ocean waves.

The festival grounds glowed with paper lanterns. They ate shaved ice and grilled squid, tried to catch goldfish with paper nets, and watched fireworks bloom across the night sky. When the crowd pressed in during the fireworks display, Ayanami took Tsukiko's hand.

"So we don't get separated," she explained, but didn't let go even after they found a quieter spot.

Under the exploding lights, with Ayanami's hand warm in hers, Tsukiko realized with sudden clarity that what she felt was more than friendship. The knowledge both terrified and elated her.

Autumn

School resumed, bringing with it college entrance exam preparations. Tsukiko threw herself into studying, partly to distract herself from her growing feelings for Ayanami. They still spent most of their time together, but Tsukiko became more reserved, afraid her emotions would somehow become visible.

Autumn painted the school grounds in fiery hues. During lunch one day, they sat beneath a maple tree whose leaves had turned crimson.

"You've been different lately," Ayanami said suddenly, breaking their comfortable silence. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" Tsukiko said, too quickly. "I'm just... worried about exams."

Ayanami studied her face. "Are you sure that's all? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The urge to confess welled up in Tsukiko's throat, but fear pushed it back down. "I know," she said instead.

Later that week, during volleyball practice, Tsukiko watched from the gymnasium bleachers as Ayanami landed awkwardly after a spike. The sound of her cry echoed off the walls as she crumpled to the floor, clutching her ankle.

Tsukiko was at her side before she even realized she'd moved.

At the hospital, the diagnosis was a severe sprain. Ayanami would need to rest for several weeks, putting her volleyball scholarship opportunities at risk. Tsukiko volunteered to bring her homework and notes each day.

"You don't have to do this," Ayanami said one evening as Tsukiko helped her organize her study materials in her bedroom.

"I want to," Tsukiko replied simply.

Ayanami caught her wrist gently. "Why?"

Tsukiko froze, trapped between honesty and self-preservation. "Because... because you're important to me."

"How important?" Ayanami pressed, her gray eyes intense.

The autumn light streaming through the window caught in Ayanami's lavender hair, creating a halo effect. Tsukiko felt something inside her break free.

"More important than anyone," she whispered.

Ayanami's expression softened. Slowly, she pulled Tsukiko closer until their foreheads touched. "I was beginning to think you'd never say it," she murmured, and then, so naturally it seemed inevitable, their lips met.

The kiss was brief, gentle, a question more than a statement. When they separated, Tsukiko's eyes were wide with wonder.

"I've been in love with you since you talked about reading by moonlight on the snow," Ayanami confessed, a blush coloring her cheeks.

Winter

Winter brought college application deadlines and their first Christmas as a couple. They kept their relationship private, a precious secret shared only in stolen moments—fingers intertwined under desks, brief kisses in empty stairwells, text messages that ended with hearts.

For Christmas Eve, traditionally a couples' holiday in Japan, they met at Tsukiko's apartment while her parents visited relatives in Hokkaido. They cooked dinner together, exchanged small gifts, and watched the snow fall gently outside the window.

"I got accepted to Tokyo University," Ayanami said, curled against Tsukiko on the couch.

Tsukiko's heart sank. She hadn't applied to Tokyo University, knowing her grades weren't strong enough. "That's wonderful," she said, forcing enthusiasm. "Your dream school."

Ayanami sat up. "Where did you apply?"

"Keio and Waseda," Tsukiko admitted. "But I'm not sure I'll get in."

"Both excellent schools," Ayanami said, then took a deep breath. "And both in Tokyo. We could get an apartment together."

Tsukiko stared at her. "You'd want that?"

"I want a future with you," Ayanami said simply. "Whatever form that takes."

Later that night, wrapped in the warmth of Ayanami's arms, Tsukiko found herself thinking about snow in Hokkaido—how it transformed the familiar into something magical, how it blanketed the world in possibility. That's what loving Ayanami felt like.

In the quiet of Tsukiko's bedroom, illuminated only by the soft glow of string lights, they explored each other with tender curiosity. Their kisses deepened, hands wandering with nervous anticipation. Clothes were removed slowly, each new revelation met with whispered admiration.

"Is this okay?" Ayanami asked repeatedly, attentive to every small reaction.

"Yes," Tsukiko affirmed, finding courage in vulnerability.

They moved together in the gentle rhythm of discovery, learning the language of each other's bodies. What began as hesitant touches evolved into a dance of increasing confidence and trust. Time seemed suspended as they shared this most intimate connection, their breathing synchronized, hearts beating as one.

Afterward, they lay facing each other, the winter moonlight casting silver patterns across the sheets.

"I love you," Tsukiko said clearly, without stuttering or whispering.

Ayanami smiled, tracing the curve of Tsukiko's cheek. "I love you too. Always."

Outside, snow continued to fall, covering Tokyo in a blanket of white that reminded Tsukiko of home. But home, she now realized, wasn't a place—it was the person beside her, the future they would build together, one season at a time.

#seasonalwriting #japanesethemes #softromance #animeaesthetic #wlwromance #sapphicfiction #tumblrwriters #originalstory #aoiwave #anime and manga

0 notes