A snow flower

The scorching sun-rays pouring from the sky peek into the classroom through the open windows. In those sunbeams, thousands of dust particles dance aimlessly, clearly visible to anyone sitting near the window. The heat in the twelfth-grade biology class is almost suffocating. Except for the 'creak creak' sound of the two old ceiling fans turning slowly, the entire classroom is sunk in the silence of a mortuary. The quiet fatigue of forty students rests upon the thick textbooks on the desks before them, while the teacher's voice utters 'mitochondria' and 'cellular respiration' in a lifeless, mechanical tone-like a monotonous news bulletin heard from an old radio.

But Yuto's eyes are not there. Though his head is bent towards the book, his dark brown eyes, gleaming like an oil stain, are gazing through the tall coconut trees outside the window and into the distant, empty blue sky. The white tufts of cloud drifting in that sky remind him of only one thing. His mind holds no mathematical equations that produce cellular energy, nor biological diagrams; it holds a single word he wrote in his diary last night about Shiroi: "もしもし?" (Moshi moshi - the Japanese greeting used when answering the phone, meaning 'hello'). It is a greeting she never actually spoke to him, but one he conjured for her within his own mental world. He chose that word because it possessed a certain exquisite rhythm, a certain distance, and an alien beauty. She was exactly like that to him. Extraordinarily beautiful, yet extraordinarily distant.

Sho sits on Yuto's right. Sho is the only anchor that tethers Yuto's world to reality. He glanced briefly at Yuto. Seeing the emptiness in Yuto's eyes and the barely perceptible smile lingering at the corner of his lips, it didn't take long for Sho to grasp the situation. He lightly poked Yuto's hand with the black pen he was holding.

"Mate, are you in your dream world again?" Sho asked in a voice so low the teacher couldn't hear.

Yuto did not flinch and return to the waking world. He turned his head slightly, looked at Sho, and spoke with a sweet silence:

"Yes. There, I've invited Shiroi for tea. It's so quiet there. Cherry trees full of white blossoms all around. She drinks green tea... her white dress is more beautiful than those flower petals."

Sho smiled with his lips, but his eyes cast a look mixed with a certain pity as he asked, "You never actually talk to her, never even ask her out for a tea, do you? Are you planning to keep that dream just there forever?"

Yuto looked back at the sky. His tone became a little solemn. "No. Because if a dream comes true, it's no longer a dream. Then it becomes reality. Reality is ugly, Sho. In reality, teacups spill, wrong words come out of people's mouths, and white dresses get stained with dust. I want to save her from that defilement."

Sho shook his head and looked back at his book. He knows Yuto is strange. While boys of their age chase after girls and make jokes, Yuto sits at a distance and writes poetry. But Sho is not afraid of that strangeness - he tries to understand it. That is the quality of Jiraiya that Sho represents in Yuto's life. (Jiraiya is a character from the anime series 'Naruto' that they both loved, a philosophical yet simple teacher who never forcibly revealed his love to the woman he loved, but protected her from afar). Sho believed that Yuto, too, was walking that painful yet sublime path.

That evening, when classes ended, the noise of freedom spread throughout the school. While children were shouting and laughing, heading towards the gate, Yuto was sitting alone on the concrete bench under the large Mara tree near the school gate. The sun was setting. The sky was tinted orange and red. A dry wind blew, carrying dry leaf fragments from the Mara tree and dust from the road. Yuto's eyes were fixed on the gate with a certain expectation.

Then, that figure appeared outside the gate. A white dress. It was her. Shiroi.

She was walking home after finishing an extra class at school. Yuto named her 'Shiroi' (white) because of that extremely modest, completely unadorned snow-white dress she wore that evening. It was a simple cotton dress. But when she wore it, a regal quality was added to it.

To this day, Yuto does not know what Shiroi's real name is. Perhaps it is 'Nimali,' 'Sewwandi,' or 'Amaya.' But that physical name is utterly unimportant to Yuto. What matters to him is the light of her presence alone. Her hair is simply tied back. When she walks, it seems from a distance as if a blue shadow floats along with her. Her walk is very calm. Seeing that gait reminds Yuto of the tranquility of a Buddhist monk walking on water. No matter how much noise is around her, she moves through it as if she has no connection to it. That sight brings a deep, still peace, like an ocean, spreading through Yuto's restless mind. He even held his breath for a few seconds and watched her until she disappeared.

That night, in his small room, under the yellow light of the desk lamp, Yuto opened his diary. The warmth of his breath mixed with its pages. He took his blue pen and wrote:

"Today she wore a white dress. It was a sight exactly like a snowflake fallen on the branch of a dark tree on an extremely cold day, floating without sinking, without melting. Every wave that forms in her hair as she walks, that delicate dance with the wind, compels me to write a poem. My fingertips tingle to write that poem. But I will never recite that poem to her - because words are incomplete. In no language I know are there words that can describe her completely. Her name? I do not know it. I call her 'Shiroi'. In my mind, she will forever appear in that white dress. I feel that garment covers not her body, but her pure soul."

Yuto had already written a letter to her. It was not an ordinary letter written on paper and placed in an envelope. It was a letter kept in an invisible envelope in his mind, sealed with his heartbeat. The letters of that letter were written not with ink, but with his own blood; with emotion. It contained the following:

"Shiroi, I first saw you in a white dress. From that day on, all the colors in my world changed. All colors faded and turned to white. Now, for me, red is no longer blood or roses, it is your lips. Green is no longer the leaves of trees, it is the depth of your eyes. Black is no longer darkness, it is the locks of your falling hair.

However, I will never send this letter to you. Because sending a letter means expecting a reply from you. That would make me a burden to you. I feel that if these heavy, confused feelings of mine crash into your free world, it would disturb your smile. I wish not to be a burden to you. So, I will make a small wrapping in my own mind, enclose this love in it, and bury it. Unseen by anyone. May only the earthy scent of this burial remain in my memory. That is the scent of love to me. May you be forever free."

Sho does not fully know about this letter or the deep philosophical thoughts written in the diary. But in the classroom, cafeteria, or library, when he looks at Yuto's face, seeing that strange, detached look in Yuto's eyes, Sho feels - "There's really something wrong with this guy. This isn't normal love; could this be a psychological problem?"

In reality, Shiroi is a character very distant from Yuto. She is in a different class. During breaks or in the classroom, she never approaches him. In the school cafeteria, she sits with a group of friends at another table at the far end. Even though Yuto watches her for hours, she does not know it.

Only once, a few months ago, near the library steps, Yuto mustered the courage to speak to her. All he wanted to ask was, "What book are you reading?" But the moment he took a step towards her, she, noticing his movement, hastily opened a textbook she had in her hand, showed it with intense concentration as if reading it, and completely ignored him. It might have been a coincidence, or it might have been her avoiding an unfamiliar boy approaching her.

That evening, he told Sho about it with great excitement.

"Mate, she saw me. Her eyes... for a second, for just one-tenth of a second, those eyes glanced at me. One look. It struck me like a lightning bolt. My whole body went numb. Can a man killed by a lightning bolt come back to life? No. But he will always remember the taste of that bolt, the ferocity of that light. That was her look."

Sho put his coffee cup on the table and stared at Yuto with wide eyes. "Hey... are you crazy? Does lightning strike when a girl just looks at you? Get out of this fantasy you've created, Yuto."

Yuto smiled softly. "No, Sho. I'm not crazy. But I am, in my mind, like mad. Do you see the difference? A truly mad person doesn't know they're mad. But 'mad in mind' means - 'I know that I'm crazy.' I am in this world knowing fully well. It is the most beautiful madness in the world. I don't want to be cured of it."

Sho subtly analyzes these words. He understands that Yuto's "madness" is not a mental derangement, but a poetic metaphor of love he has created to erase the loneliness and sorrow of his life. Sho understood that Yuto was a soul who loved art and poetry more than reality.

Yuto's diary is the sole witness to all his strange thoughts. Many of its pages are filled with writings about Shiroi, her shadow, her walk. Among them was one particularly distinctive entry:

"2020 March 11:

Today was a rainy evening. Only the two of us were at the bus stop. She said 'Hi' to me. It was just the single word 'Hi.' A word ordinary people say a thousand times a day. But when it left her mouth, it had the color of that deep blue in a fading twilight. A dying, but the most beautiful light in the world. The moment I heard that word, I froze. I couldn't even remember to say 'Hi' back. After coming home, I wrote that word three times in my diary. I stared at that word. Then I erased it. Because it was a word that belonged to her. She did not give it to me, she just released it to the wind. If I had stolen it by writing it in my diary, she would lose it. I will steal nothing from her, not even a single letter."

One day, Sho happened to see this diary of Yuto's lying on the table. He did not turn its pages and read it. It is not Sho's habit to pry into others' secrets. But on one page that flipped open in the wind, he saw a few tear stains that had blurred the letters. Those tear stains spoke of a pain that a thousand words could not express. From that day on, Sho began to take even greater care of Yuto. He did not leave Yuto alone.

Time passed. One rainy night, Yuto stood in front of a tall mirror in his room. Except for the sound of the rain outside, a deadly silence reigned in the room. He stared at his own reflection. He saw the weariness in his eyes, his disheveled hair, and the melancholy on his face. Then, a question that slowly arose from within his mind echoed to him.

"Who am I? What am I doing? Do I really love Shiroi? Those two eyes, that white dress? Or, the perfect dream called 'Shiroi' that I myself created inside my own mind, which I can manipulate as I wish?"

He went to the diary on the table that day and wrote with trembling hands:

"Perhaps I do not love her. This may not be love. Perhaps I love my own loneliness. The emptiness inside me. She gave a shape to that loneliness. The shape of a white dress. It's exactly like a brand-new, untouched canvas. On that white canvas, I have drawn a picture of my desires, my hopes. But she... she is only the model for that picture. The true artist is not her, but this great void in my mind.

Then, what should I do about her? Should I free her from this mental bond? Or should I continue this lie, embrace my own emptiness, and die?"

This collection of thoughts exhausted Yuto deeply. The next morning at school, Sho, noticing the change, inquired about him. Yuto unfolded what he felt without holding back before Sho.

Sho listened to everything, let out a sigh, and said:

"You... Yuto, you think too much, mate. Even more than necessary. Sometimes, love isn't something you need to analyze and dissect with philosophy like that. It's something you feel. Something to simply experience. You complicate it for yourself."

Yuto remained silent for a while, staring blankly after hearing those words, then slowly said:

"Then what is it that I feel now, Sho? I had named the deep emotions that arise in my heart 'Shiroi.' That name was actually given not to that girl, but to my emotion. It was just a mere feeling. I am just now recognizing it. I understand now that I loved my own fantasy. But... but even knowing the reality, I don't know how to stop this pain."

Sho then placed his hand on his shoulder in a very friendly manner.

"Don't stop it. Don't forcibly kill that feeling. Let it hurt. But... never show it to her. Her world is different, your world is different."

Yuto then suddenly, at a moment no one expected, snapped the expensive blue ink pen he had in his hand into two. With a 'crack' sound, the pen broke, and the ink inside spread all over his fingers, all over his palm. He stared at that ink without any emotion. That deep blue ink was smeared on the sleeves of his white school shirt. He wondered what it would be like if such a blue stain, the stain of his own confused emotions, fell on Shiroi's pure white dress.

"It would get dirty," he mutters to himself. "I do not wish to dirty her dress with my hands. She must remain white."

A few days later, Yuto arrived at a decisive resolution. That was, that he must stop dreaming about Shiroi and treating her as a deity. He must see her as a human being. That night, he turned to a new, completely blank page in his diary and began:

"From now on, I will not call her 'Shiroi'. She... she has a name. She has a life that I do not know, that I will never see. She has friends she speaks to freely. Perhaps she has someone who loves her, someone she loves. She has a smile - a smile that does not bloom because of me. It could be a smile that blossoms for someone else. That is her right.

Today, I will shatter that idol named 'Shiroi' that I have kept and worshipped in my heart all this time. But... when that idol breaks, what I will rebuild from its fragments is not a new beginning, but an empty space. A great void. I will breathe in that emptiness. This decision hurts enough to pierce through the chest. But I now understand that to hurt is to be alive. The dead do not feel pain."

When Sho met him near the school gate the next morning, Sho felt that Yuto was different from previous days. Yuto normally asks, "How are you, mate?" with a slight smile. His voice lacks the previous mystical vibration or hope. The manic, gleaming light that used to be in his eyes searching for Shiroi has completely extinguished. Instead, his eyes hold only a calm sadness; like an ocean becalmed after a storm, a silent, but extremely deep sadness.

"Mate," Sho said, patting Yuto on the back, "you have now taken the first step on Jiraiya's path. Learning to love is very easy. Any fool can love. But learning to let go of love, to free someone from your heart, is the hardest thing in the world. You did that."

Yuto answered slowly, still gazing into the distance.

"I didn't let her go, Sho. I just gave her complete freedom. I freed her from my mind. The way I feel, that is the most sublime form of love. Not forcibly claiming something that isn't yours. Or, perhaps it may not be love at all, but some other strange thing even nobler than love. There is no name for it in this world."

About a month later, on an ordinary Wednesday, Yuto was walking along the main corridor of the school. On his way to the science lab, he accidentally met her. Yes, her.

She was not wearing a white dress today. She wore a dark blue shirt and ordinary black trousers. Her hair was not neatly tied as usual; it was slightly disheveled. She was laughing loudly with two of her friends about something. Yuto cast a brief glance at her. No white dress. Not even the shadow of the white dress was there. She was not the goddess named 'Shiroi' who dwelt in his heart, but just another ordinary schoolgirl-with feelings, sweating, laughing.

He nodded slightly to her and passed her by. She, too, smiled faintly in return and was about to walk on. What did he feel in his heart after she passed? An emptiness - but not the piercing, painful void of the past. It was like the calm emptiness of a ground cleared and prepared for a new building, a quiet emptiness ready for a new beginning.

That night, Yuto, turning the last page of his diary, made his final entry with a liberated mind:

"Shiroi is no more. The perfect goddess who lived in my heart has now died. But she, that real girl, is alive. She does not wear the white dress I saw now. However, deep in the deepest corner of my heart, a shadow of that white dress still remains. What is a shadow? It is the only evidence that once, in some time, some place, there was light. Even though that light is now completely extinguished, its image has remained within me.

From now on, I will live with that shadow. It will be a silent poem dwelling within me, unheard by anyone. A poem is never reality. It is a fantasy. But it is more beautiful than death, and deeper than life.

True friendship has no expiration date. I now believe that love, too, is the same - it never completely dies. It merely changes form. Just as a fire turns to ash, my love has now turned into a shadow.

That white dress is now merely a shadow in my heart. A shadow has no owner; no one can claim it. But neither will it ever leave me.

I give thanks - to my two eyes. For those eyes that were able to see that extraordinary shadow, unseen by anyone else in the world, but which touched my soul, I am forever grateful."

He closed the diary and turned off the desk lamp. Though the room sank into darkness, an unfamiliar kind of light, a peaceful light, was glowing within Yuto's heart like never before. It was the light of a new tomorrow's dawn.