Chapter 16
Rei Kurosaki
It had been a week since Dimitri and I met in that garden. A full week, and I still did not know how to explain what was happening to me.
I had not seen him at school once. He texted me the next morning to say he had to handle something for his father, something that clearly was not a normal errand, judging by how short and tense his messages were that first day.
I did not ask for details. I already knew better than to dig into that part of his life. But every day since then, he had been texting me. A lot.
Sometimes he sent random questions in the middle of the day.
At first I only replied because he threatened to show up at my house if I did not.
I believed him. He was the kind of person who followed through.
But somewhere in the middle of the week, I stopped replying just because of the threats. I started waiting for his messages.
I found myself checking my phone more than I should. I felt this weird little flicker in my chest when his name popped up, especially after he helped me feel better that day in the garden.
It was strange.
Three weeks ago I would have laughed if someone told me I would be sitting here actually looking forward to talking to Dimitri Morozov. The same guy who chased me through the woods and held a gun in my mouth.
But he had an effect on me. I could not deny it anymore.
Usually when I came home from school, the house felt like a cage. I would go straight to my room, lock the door, and just exist. Some days I sat on the floor with my back against the bed and let the memories of my dad’s accident play on loop until I could not breathe.
Other days I just scrolled mindlessly, trying not to hear my mom laughing with Daniel. But ever since Dimitri started texting me regularly, my mind stayed busy.
I did not drown as easily.
Yesterday he asked about my childhood in Tokyo. I told him about the small garden behind our old house and how my dad used to let me pick flowers even when I was too young to know the names.
Dimitri replied with a story about when he was eight and his father made him sit through a meeting that lasted six hours.
He said he spent the whole time counting the sugar cubes in the bowl on the table because he was not allowed to touch them.
Then he admitted that he still had a ridiculous sweet tooth.
He told me he kept a drawer in his room full of imported chocolates and those little hard candies from Russia.
He said when he was a kid he used to sneak them at night and hide the wrappers under his mattress so no one would know.
I smiled at my phone like an idiot when I read that.
He had been doing that more and more, sharing little pieces of himself without me having to ask. Like how he secretly hated the taste of coffee but drank it anyway because it made him look older in meetings.
Or how he once tried to learn how to play the piano when he was nine because he thought it would impress his mother, but he was so bad at it that the teacher quit after three lessons.
He told me he still kept the piano in his apartment even though he never touched it, just because getting rid of it would feel like admitting defeat.
It was weirdly cute.
And ever since he found out I picked flowers when I needed to calm down, he started sending me a photo of a flower every day.
Sometimes it was one he found outside wherever he was.
Sometimes it was from a shop or even a random park he passed.
He always captioned it with something simple like “Today’s flower” or “Saw this and thought of you” and then asked me to tell him what it meant.
I did not know why it affected me so much, but it did.
This morning he sent a picture of a cluster of tiny blue flowers growing between cracks in some concrete somewhere. The message just said: What do they mean?
I stared at the photo for a long time before replying.
Little Fairy: They’re called forget-me-nots. People used to give them so the other person wouldn’t forget them.
Yesterday he sent a picture of a bright orange marigold.
I told him they were often used in celebrations and funerals in different cultures.
He said that made sense to him. Then he asked if I had ever seen fields of them.
I said no, but I had read they grew wild in some parts of Mexico and India and turned entire landscapes gold.
Dimitri: One day I’ll show you a field like that.
I did not know what to say to that, so I just sent back a simple Okay.
But I kept thinking about it for hours.
That night I was lying on my bed with the lights off, phone in my hands, waiting. I had already explained three different flowers to him that day, a red carnation, a yellow tulip, and a purple hyacinth.
When I told him hyacinths could mean sorrow or forgiveness depending on the color, he said he would remember that.
I did not know what we were doing. I did not know what this was turning into. A week ago I would have sworn I hated him. Part of me still did, or at least I was scared of him. But another part of me kept checking my phone like some lovesick idiot, waiting for his name to light up the screen.
He made the nights quieter. He made the memories of my dad hurt a little less. And when he sent those flower pictures every single day and actually listened when I talked about them, it felt like he saw something in me that most people did not.
I still did not know if that was a good thing or a dangerous one.
Today was Friday, and Marco’s friend had thrown the party he had been talking about all week. I was not in the mood to go at all. Originally I had only said yes because it gave me a solid excuse to stay out of the house for a few hours.
The thought of sitting through another awkward dinner with my mother and Daniel while they pretended everything was fine had been unbearable. But now, after a full week of Dimitri’s texts filling up my phone every single day, I would have rather stayed home.
I would have rather been in my room, waiting for whatever random question or flower picture he decided to send next.
Marco suddenly appeared in front of me, dark curls bouncing as he moved to the beat.
He was so small compared to most of the guys here, barely reaching my shoulder even when he stood on his toes a little.
He was wearing a soft cream sweater with little black ribbons tied loosely in his hair, two of them, one on each side, keeping some of the curls out of his face.
He handed me a red plastic cup filled with something that smelled sweet and strong.
“Here,” he said.
I took the cup and sipped slowly. It tasted like some kind of fruity vodka mix. Not bad, but I was not really in the mood to get drunk. I just wanted to be home.
Marco tilted his head, studying me. “You okay? You’ve been quiet since we got here. If you hate it we can leave. I won’t be mad.”
“I’m fine,” I said, forcing a small smile. “Just tired. Long week.”
He nodded. “I get it. You’ve seemed different lately. Does it have to do with Dimitri?”
Before I could answer, a girl appeared between us. She looked around our age, maybe a little older, with long dark hair and a confident smile. She was clearly a little tipsy already, but not sloppy. She turned straight to Marco, completely ignoring me for a second.
“Hey,” she said, leaning in so he could hear her over the music. “I’ve seen you around campus a couple of times. You’re the one who’s always in the library, right?”
Marco’s cheeks went bright pink so fast it was almost funny. He glanced at me quickly, like he needed to make sure he was not imagining this. No girl had ever walked up to him like this before.
He was so used to being overlooked that the attention clearly threw him off, especially because everyone thought he was gay.
“Uh… yeah,” he said. “That’s me.”
The girl smiled wider. “I’m Lena. You wanna dance? The song’s pretty good.”
Marco looked at me again, asking for permission. Like he felt guilty even considering leaving me alone when he was the one who invited me. I smiled and nodded once, giving him a little push on the shoulder.
“Go,” I said. “She seems nice. Have fun.”
He hesitated for another second, pressing his lips together, clearly reluctant.
Then he turned back to the girl and nodded.
She took his hand and led him toward the makeshift dance floor in the living room.
I watched them go, a smile pulling at my mouth.
Marco deserved this. He was always so worried about everyone else that he never let himself have fun.
I sat down on one of the stools near the drinks table and finished what was left in my cup. A guy handling the drinks, probably one of Marco’s friend’s roommates, leaned over the table and offered me another cup.
“Refill?” he asked with a grin. “You look like you could use it.”
I took it without thinking much about it. “Thanks.”
I sipped the new drink slowly while I waited for Marco to come back. It tasted almost the same as the first one. Sweet. I finished it without realizing how fast I was going.
A few minutes later Marco reappeared, cheeks flushed and curls even messier than before. The girl was still with him, but she was talking to someone else a few feet away now, clearly hoping he would come back soon.
I looked at her, then back at Marco. “She seems to want more time with you. Why don’t you go?”
He pressed his lips together, clearly torn. “I don’t know… I invited you. I don’t want to just leave you sitting here by yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I said, meaning it. “Really. Go. Have fun. I’ll have another drink or two and probably head home soon anyway. You don’t have to babysit me.”
He still looked reluctant, but after another glance at the girl he finally nodded. “Okay. But text me when you get home, alright?”
“I will. Go.”
He gave me one last worried look, then turned and jogged back to the girl. She lit up when she saw him coming back. I watched them disappear into the crowd together.
I finished the second drink and set the empty cup on the table. My head felt a little heavy, but I figured it was just the noise and the fact that I had not eaten much today. I really wanted to go home then. The thought of crawling into bed and texting Dimitri until I fell asleep sounded perfect.
I stood up from the stool.
My vision blurred at the edges and the floor seemed to shift under my feet. I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself. I had only had two drinks. Two. I could not possibly be drunk already. I was not even tipsy when I finished the second one.
But something was wrong.
My legs felt unsteady as I slowly made my way toward the bathroom down the hall. The music sounded muffled then, like it was coming from underwater. People brushed past me and I had to focus hard just to keep walking straight. My stomach twisted uncomfortably.
I pushed open the bathroom door and locked it behind me, leaning against the sink. The fluorescent light was too bright. I turned the cold water on and splashed some on my face, trying to clear my head.
What the hell was happening?
I stared at my reflection. My eyes looked glassy. The blue flower clip in my hair, the one I had chosen that morning because Dimitri had sent me a picture of himself smiling with a clear blue sky behind him, made me feel strangely calm. But then my eyes were growing heavy.
Something was very wrong.