Figments of Imagination (Chapter 1)

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“Bye, Natsume! I’ll see you later!”

“Bye, Umi! Good luck in the writing world!”

“Thanks.”

Yanagisawa Umi couldn’t tell whether the last comment was a compliment or not [1]. Natsume may have been nice to her or she could have been teasing her. What she may have really been saying was, “Good luck, Yanagisawa! A poor, pitiful writer like you is going to need it!”

Not that Natsume was an evil person. Oh sure, Natsume had been popular, smart, and beautiful back in the days when she and Umi used to go to school together. Natsume, whose dark hair once flowed down her back and with beautiful golden eyes behind a pair of stylish glasses, now had shorter hair and wore contact lenses. Natsume, the girl who once dated every boy in high school, had no flaws in her whatsoever. She had gone through an amazing change, her figure clean and shaped nicely, making her look like a goddess. Perhaps she could be a fairy that lived in enchanted forests and made friends with animals. Natsume was a pretty picture out of a fashion magazine.

And Umi?

I’m not that bad looking. She thought, catching a glimpse of her own reflection in the window of a clothing store. With crystal blue hair that came to her shoulders and midnight blue eyes, she still looked nice. Some, like her own mother and father, even called her ‘pretty’. But she was not gorgeous, oh no. Her body resembled more of a professional businesswoman rather than a supermodel. She wasn’t fat but she wasn’t skinny either. Her face was a little too round for her taste and she had a tendency to break out with acne. She preferred having most parts of her body clothed and covered in order to hide the real Yanagisawa Umi. And it made sense. There was a deeper side to her.

I am an author. She told herself as she opened the door to the building that she lived in. It was Umi’s first time living by herself. She had moved out of her home two months ago, despite her mother’s pleas to keep her where she was. But Umi was nineteen and felt she was responsible to make it on her own. She wanted privacy and, though she got it when she was home, she wanted to be in a place where she could find inspiration outside the window. And where she lived now, on the twenty-fifth floor of the twenty-eight-floor apartment building, was the perfect place to look down and find inspiration on the busy streets below. Getting in the elevator, she asked one of the men who were also in there to press “25” for her. This was a quiet, nice place for Umi to live in. A building of contemporary styles and soft, subtle colors, she fell in love with it the moment she saw it. Despite how large it was, there was a warm aura around it, making it homey and comfortable. No doubt about it, this building was a perfect place for aspiring writer like Yanagisawa Umi to begin a new life.

Provided that my friends do not decide to come in and drag me to another one of their wild parties. Umi added to herself. Lately, she had not been able to write her first novel because of her five friends: Sora, Kikuno, Ai, Junpei, and Kouji. Anytime she had a good idea and was about to put it down on the computer screen, one of those five would call and beg for her to come over. Of course, Junpei and Kouji didn’t do it as much as the other three. They were guys after all. If Umi didn’t want to come, fine with them. Sora, Kikuno, and Ai were the ones that she had a hard time explaining her situations to.

I should say no. But I can’t. They’ve done so much for me. Oh God, I don’t think I would survive without them.

It was true. Umi trusted her five friends more than anyone else in the world, including her own family. Her family was less than thrilled when Umi said she wanted to be a writer. Her friends encouraged to do as the old cliché said, follow her dream. Whenever someone was bothering Umi, one of her friends, if not all, was there to protect her. Anytime she had a question or problem, she turned to one of the five.

Harada Sora was the one who was the most like Umi. A quiet girl with dark brown hair and almond shaped eyes, she became Umi’s friend in the later school years. Though pretty, Sora was more plain that Umi herself. She had simple tastes in clothing. She had also been a pretty good student in the past. Not the best but she was pretty good. To others, “Sora Plain and Tall” as many of her former classmates called her, was just to dry and boring like bread. But Umi saw something more in Sora and as a result, they became friends. Sora also had dreams of being a writer and often had long discussions with Umi.

Orimoto Ai was the one who knew Umi the longest. They had been best friends since childhood and, even when they split up during the high school years, they still remained close. Ai wasn’t too much into writing like Umi or Sora but she supported both of them. She was also the most frivolous of the six. Ai was everything Sora wasn’t: blond, green-eyed, medium-sized, bubbly, straightforward, and loud. She loved fashion and boys, always setting up her friends with strangers. But Ai also respected them, which was the most important quality inside of her.

Then there was Oikawa Kikuno. She was the newest of Umi’s friends, having known her for a year and half. She was also the oldest at twenty-two. Kiku, as her friends called her, wasn’t as frivolous as Ai but she wasn’t as simple as Sora. With darker skin, hair as black as ink, and violet eyes, Kikuno was a beauty as well. She liked shopping but wasn’t an insane spendthrift like Ai. Kikuno also had more health problems: she suffered asthma since childhood and was allergic to a million kinds of food. But she was also a strong girl. She fought her battles hard and she won.

Hida Junpei was another brand new friend to Umi. He, like Kikuno, had only met Umi a year ago but she trusted him with her life. Junpei was tall and strong, having a figure fit for a god and a heart stronger that any muscle in his body. With dusty brown hair and big green eyes, Junpei’s good looks still were nothing compared to the kind, loveable person he was inside. Junpei was one of the first people Umi showed her stories to before she sent it to any publishers.

And finally Watabe Kouji, Umi’s crush. Oh yes, he was her best friend and the one person who gave her the best advice. She turned to Kouji more than she turned to her mother about problems. A handsome man with dark hair, hazel eyes, and a beautiful smile, Kouji looked more and more appealing to Umi. Lately, she found herself wishing that she could have Kouji as more than just a friend. He understood her better than anyone else did. But, like most shy people, Umi was afraid to tell him the truth in fear of destroying the friendship they had. She loved him all right. When the time was right, she vowed to tell him.

Ding!

The elevator finally reached Umi’s floor and she got off. She started heading down the long hallway to where her apartment was at, which was the very end of the hall. No one was loitering about, no one was talking loudly behind their own closed doors…things were just perfect. Once she got into the house, she could sit down and start writing.

But what am I going to write about? She asked herself. As much as Umi wanted to get on the computer and start typing, she didn’t know what to write about. This part of being a writer was the most frustrating. She loved every genre she knew of and was willing to write anything. Science fiction, fantasy, mystery, romance, horror...so many choices, so hard to choose. And having no idea what to write about was the same thing as having writer’s block. Yanagisawa Umi could not be allowed to have writer’s block.

I have to find inspiration! What am I going to tell Mom if I don’t sell a novel anytime soon?

She didn’t want her mother to look her in the eye and say ‘I told you so.’ She wanted to prove that she *could* make it into the writing world without anyone’s help. She only had to trust herself. Of course, her mother didn’t think this was possible. Yanagisawa Miaka protested but to no avail. She had always hoped her daughter would become a lawyer or doctor or someone who would be respected. But having Umi become an author? That was not what Miaka wanted. Time and time again, she tried to change her daughter’s mind and divert her away from the writing world. She told her the benefits of the careers. Umi knew her mother was thinking the best for her but the words, conflicts, characters, different worlds, and all other aspects to stories were begging her. They wanted her to write, to create something out of open air and make people fall in love with it. Fantasy had a way of reeling people in and sometimes was stronger than reality.

So Umi decided to become an author and, despite her dismay, Miaka let her. She let her daughter move out of the house and begin anew. Nevertheless, she called everyday to make sure Umi was all right and had enough to survive. But while Miaka stayed on good terms, Umi’s younger brother, Tatsuha, was another story. He thought Umi was being selfish and cruel for disobeying their mother’s orders. He also let her leave but not without sending her off with a few harsh words.

“You’re never going to make it.” He told her. “And even if you do sell a novel, I’m not buying it. I don’t want to read anything from someone who hates Mom.”

Umi assured him she didn’t *hate* their mother but Tatsuha didn’t buy it. It hurt knowing that her brother didn’t care or support her anymore. Miaka told Umi that Tatsuha was upset she was leaving, that he didn’t really mean what he said. Whether he meant it or not, it still hurt her. Hopefully, he would change his mind what that first novel *did* come out.

When it comes out. Umi reminded herself, approaching her apartment and fumbling through her purse for her keys. The more she thought about how much her family hated her decision, the more she was glad she had friends who supported it. If only they would give her time to do some brainstorming rather than pulling her away from everything...

“Home sweet home!” She exclaimed, opening the door and letting herself in. Nothing answered back except the for the beeping coming from her answering machine. It seemed like someone had left a message only seconds ago. More than likely, it was one of her friends. Dropping her purse on the sofa, she wandered into her bedroom. This apartment that she had purchased not too long ago was slowly starting to look like a pigsty. She hadn’t done her laundry in a while so dirty clothes were everywhere. The garbage still needed to be taken out because the smell was starting to seep into the other rooms. There was dirt on the shell-white carpet, begging to be sucked up by the vacuum cleaner. And the bathroom had a few cockroaches in it now. But despite all this, Umi loved her new home. She’d clean it when she got the chance. Right now, she was running into her own messy bedroom to see who left messages on the answering machine.

Umi started picking up the sheets on the floor and began making her bed as she listened to the messages.

First message. “Hey, Umi, it’s Sora! Save me please! Ai and Kiku are dressing me up in...I don’t even think this is a thong! Ai! What the hell is this thing?! Well, what I mean to say is, I need company. So come save me please. Later.”

Umi smiled. Poor Sora did need to be saved from spendthrifts Ai and Kiku. Personally, Umi also wanted to see what they made Sora wear. Possibly something that would make Kouji and Junpei howl like wolves.

Next message. “Hi, Umi, it’s Mom. I just called to see if you were all right. I miss you very much. Love you. Call me when you get the chance.”

Next message. “Umi, it’s Kouji. You called me last night and I didn’t get to answer back. Well, I’m returning the call now. Take care. Call me.”

Next message: “UMI! That’s it! Ai and Kiku are driving me out of my goddamn mind! Where the hell are you?! Come get me please!”

Last message: “Okay, you’re starting to piss me off, Umi. Get your ass down here before I kill Ai and Kiku.”

Umi had to laugh. Poor Sora Plain and Tall! Being stuck Ai and Kiku...Umi took pity on her. She thought about going to join her friends. Well, she wanted to write but she didn’t know what to write about. Considering that she wasn’t working on anything important right now, she decided to go ahead and give Sora some company. The girl needed it, considering she was in hell with Ai and Kikuno. The writing would have to wait as would the chores. After all, Umi knew that the first thing about friendship was being there for one’s friends whenever they needed help.

And Sora needed help.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Umi sighed, pulling up the sheets over her pillows to finish the bed. Running back into the living room, she picked up her purse on the couch and opened the front door...something she would come to regret much later. For if she hadn’t done that, she would never have found it.

“Huh?” Umi looked down.

On the floor, right in front of her toes, was a pen. Bending over, Umi picked it up and held it.

“Wonder who lost it.” She murmured, observing the pen. It wasn’t any typical ballpoint pen. This one was creamy- white with gold and silver stripes running down it. The top of the cap had gold on it and when Umi opened it, she found the tip to be sharp and hard, not dull and soft. Beautiful and round, it sparkled when held to the light. She didn’t know why but she wanted to keep this pen. It felt like, as strange as it sounded, that she was destined to keep it. But it wasn’t hers. Maybe whoever lost it would come back to claim it. Maybe they wouldn’t be thrilled if Umi used it.

I’m being silly. She told herself. After all, it was a *pen*. If this was someone’s wallet, that would be another story. But it was a pen. No one was going to miss a pen unless it had importance to him or her.

Well, it was time to go. Sora was probably growing impatient downstairs and she wouldn’t be thrilled to hear that Umi was late because she was looking over a strange pen that she had found outside of her apartment. And besides, pens were pens. Anyone could lose them. Umi had lost so many pens during the nineteen-years that she had been living and she had a feeling no one would miss this one.

“I’m coming, Sora!” She said out loud, picking up the pen and dropping it in her purse. She’d find out whom it belonged to later. Right now, important things were waiting for her.

And when I come back, I hope I’ll finally have an idea that’ll be worth writing down.

TBC...

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[1] I went ahead and wrote Umi’s and everyone else’s name the Japanese way, which is surname first. Hence, Yanagisawa Umi, Yanagisawa Miaka, etc.

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