Aoba/Ino

Crevices

By Santeira

For ChocoLatte

***

Ino had always thought there was something about the cemetery that made it seem so peaceful.

Perhaps, it was because of the lingering silence—or the horror anecdotes about it—told by the gossip-mongers that resulted villagers and children to shy away from the place. Don't go near the cemetery, ghosts would chase after you, her neighbors would say when she was a curious child--but Ino knew better that the villagers did not fear the dead more than they feared death—almost a daily occurrence in their village.

So they shied away.

In her casual t-shirt and skirt she would bring flowers to the cemetery—pink roses, yellow daisies and lavender daffodils and arrange them on Asuma-sensei's mausoleum. It had become something of a routine—thrice a week, different flowers every time—the old withered ones would be discarded and fresh ones would replace.

The first time she saw Aoba stand in front of the mausoleum was a Sunday morning. When he heard her steps, cracking the dried leaves underfoot, he inclined his head a little to see her—his face serious for a while— as if not expecting her to be there, before he smiled. He told her the flowers she brought lit the cold cemetery and were a little sign of life amidst the death of the place. She told him this was the least she could do to keep the memory of her sensei alive.

And they chatted.

And they laughed.

Day after day, withered flowers were replaced with the fresh ones. Ino perceived that ever since—he was waiting for her every Sunday. She kept replacing the flowers and visiting Asuma sensei— until the flowers were not available anymore.

It was a month of steady rain which destroyed most flowers. There was none obtainable even for sale, and Ino couldn't stand bringing the spoiled ones to Asuma's tomb..

But it was Sunday.

When she arrived, no longer bringing a basket with her—her face fell—but Aoba did not ask about the flowers. They both stood, and looked at the stone, and the crevices of Asuma's name on the heavy porcelain stone which were also carved in their minds.

"I don't bring the flowers today, Aoba-san," she said, "I can't make sensei's mausoleum pretty".

Aoba did not answer for awhile.

"There's no need for one," he said and smiled, the beam of the morning sun mirrored in his sunglasses, "you're no different from one."

And Ino felt her face flush.

***

END