Story about Flowers

Rie and I observed the flowers in the pot that we had cared for over the years. The flowers appeared fresh, even when we forgot to water them. They seemed as though they did not need water. The flower buds continued to bloom beautifully, unaffected by the hot weather of Kyushu city.

"Why does this flower never wilt?" asked my wife with flushed cheeks after downing five shots of sheisu sake she had bought in Kobe. "That’s the flower your friend gave you, isn’t it?"

“I don't know, but it's beautiful, isn't it?”

My wife nodded with a blank and innocent expression resembling the face of a small Shima Enaga bird I once saw in Shiretoko National Park. Additionally, I also remembered my friend who always wore a hat.

Hisashi planted hime sayuri flowers on the crown of his head. The flowers—with white petals and purple stamens that often remind people of summer in Hokkaido, especially when gazing at the evening light on Tsuru no Mai Bridge with Mount Iwaki in the background—grew well. The flowers did not even have to wait for summer. They bloomed every day on the crown of Hisashi's head.

Since I first—and I was the only one—saw the hime flower on Hisashi's crown, it never wilted. It was like the mythological flower of Tsubaki that was immortal, and only grew magically on Mount Fuji. Its fragrance never faded. So, it was easy to find Hisashi. Every time I smelled the scent of hime flowers, whether in the office, onsen, izayaki, or other places; it was certain that Hisashi was around.

I once asked about the magic of the flower on his crown.

“Why does the flower on your crown never wilt?” I asked Hisashi.

“Maybe my mother's spirit is watching over him,” Hisashi replied flatly.

Let me create a flower garden inside you, Hisashi.

The man paused for a moment after saying that to me. Then, he explained the history of the flower on his crown. The flower had been growing since he was ten years old—specifically, it began to appear after his mother passed away in an accident. Following his mother's funeral, Hisashi often dreamed of meeting her in a garden filled with animals that were a combination of human and turtle forms, commonly referred to as Kappa. In the dream, his mother was busy combing his hair while recounting the story of a flower garden she had wanted to work on—but never had the chance to.

“Let me plant a flower garden inside you, Hisashi,” his mother said. “So that you will not be alone in the world.”

Hisashi's dreams were indeed strange. However, he continued to dream of meeting his mother along with the Kappa almost every night for nearly a year. And just like in his dreams, his mother often mentioned that she would create a flower garden within him. Eventually, Hisashi shared these dreams with his grandmother. The elderly woman then summoned a priest to perform a purification ritual commonly referred to as Harae by the local residents. However, Hisashi felt like a monkey he had once seen at the Aso-Shi zoo because the priests were throwing beans at him.

“Did you not see your mother again after that?” I interrupted her story.

Hisashi shook his head and told me that the actions carried out by his grandmother only demeaned his dignity. The dream kept coming, and Hisashi was not only combed by his mother but was also invited to plant flowers. The scene of planting flowers repeatedly occurred throughout the remainder of his tenth year.

“You must be bored,” his mother said in her dream. “But this will be valuable to you later.”

Hisashi did not attempt to share his dream with his grandmother—because the same thing would surely be done to him again. Thus, Hisashi endured everything with resignation within his dreams. Until one day, as he approached the age of eleven, Hisashi no longer dreamed of meeting his mother. However, in one of his final dreams, there was one detail in the scene that changed.

After this I will live again as something I don't know what. But I hope to be a flower that grows in your yard.

“My time is up, Hisashi,” his mother said, tears streaming down her face. “After this, I will live again as something I don’t know what. But I hope to be a flower growing in your yard.”

Hisashi after that never met his mother. Hisashi hadn't even dreamed since he was eleven. His bed is always empty. The day just changed every time Hisashi closed his eyes at night. It's just that something changed inside him. Hime flower buds began to grow on the crown of his head. Every day the flower stem showed itself more and more. Hisashi wasn't afraid of this either. He felt that perhaps the flower growing on the top of his head was the reincarnation of his mother's spirit.

Unlike Hisashi's grandmother. The old woman panicked. She immediately took Hisashi to Kumamoto Shinto Hospital.

“Is my grandson okay, sensei?” Hisashi’s grandmother asked. “What happened to my grandson?”

“There is nothing wrong with your grandson, Obachan,” the doctor explained. “But this is beyond reason. It is impossible for a plant to grow on a human head.”

For almost six years, Hisashi felt like he was a prisoner of war of the Soviet Union in China because he lost as an ally in World War II. He lived under pressure because he had to be the object of observation by doctors. In addition, he also had to wear a hat so that no one would know about the hime flower. But all that suffering did not produce anything. So when he was twenty-one years old, he decided never to come to the hospital again.

I promise there is no third person.

“I tried to live a normal life after that,” Hisashi added. “There’s nothing that makes me suffer from this flower.”

“I will remain the second person after your grandmother to know about the flower,” I said sincerely. “I promise there will be no third person.”

I accidentally found out about the flower on Hisashi's crown. The incident happened around the end of last year, when I visited his apartment. Hisashi forgot to lock his door, which made me worried. I thought his house located around the Jotomachi district had been attacked by robbers. I slowly entered. There was no sign of robbers in Hisashi's apartment. Instead, I saw him looking dazed without a shirt and hat. On his head was a flower.

Hisashi was surprised by my appearance. He immediately took his hat.

“Is that a key chain?” I asked immediately.

At first he remained silent. But then, having no choice, he replied, “These are real flowers.”

At first I didn't believe it. But when he showed it to me again, the flower wasn't just a prop. It was a real flower.

“I hope you’re not afraid,” he said to me. “Because this is nonsense.”

“Not at all,” I replied flatly. “There are a lot of weirder things out there. Like cutting off your own finger for a keychain.”

"Thank you very much, friend," Hisashi also said evenly.

After that, we could be said to be good friends both in the office and outside of work. I got to know the things Hisashi did outside of his world as an editor. It turned out that he was a plant lover. His apartment was full of ornamental plants. He watered them regularly every day. Hisashi was so understanding of the ornamental plants that he did not hesitate to leave the office to check on them.

I think all those silly things Hisashi did were because of the hime flower growing on his crown. The hime flower probably gave Hisashi a different intuitive sensitivity. He could understand plants better than most people. So sometimes I don't think it's strange if Hisashi suddenly sheds tears for no reason after seeing a dead flower in a pot.

“Aren’t you tired of knowing things that other people don’t understand?” I asked him. “Every day you just feel complicated sadness.”

“At first I felt tired,” Hisashi replied. “But it seems that being sad about something complicated doesn’t make the world end any faster.”

Hisashi was indeed unreasonable, but I didn't argue much with him. I knew Hisashi's world was not as easy to understand as night always came with dark colors; and morning with bright colors. Hisashi's world was between uncertainty and wavering without any easily understood colors.

Suddenly that day, Hisashi asked me to have dinner at an oden shop. I only knew that the term “dinner” was actually just a way for him to tell me something. He always used this habit to explain complicated things to me. Finally, he asked me to drink sake to talk about Akutagawa’s works and the great author’s motive for committing suicide.

I didn't try to tease him about what he wanted to say while eating the oden. We were more busy with the radish, tofu, and beef in the oden's dashi sauce. After eating, I still didn't see any signs that Hisashi would say anything. However, after taking two small sips of sake, Hisashi finally made a sound.

“I just resigned from my job,” Hisashi’s voice cracked. “But I don’t know if it’s true or not.”

“Get out?” I was surprised. “What are your plans?”

It was actually a shame that Hisashi made the choice. The publisher must have suffered a huge loss. I remember that there were three big writers in the publisher that Hisashi had found. From those three writers, the publisher had made quite a lot of profit.

Suddenly, I thought Hisashi would move to a bigger publisher.

“You’re wrong if you think another publishing house will offer me a job!” Hisashi said, knowing what I was thinking. “I want to make a garden and a flower shop.”

“Flower shop?” I was getting more and more confused about Hisashi’s thoughts. “In this city?”

“Of course not in this city,” Hisashi replied. “But...”

Hisashi was momentarily choked. He then told that after nine years of dreamless sleep, last night he met his mother again. It turned out that his mother was not reincarnated as a flower on his crown, but as a flower that he accidentally planted in a garden in his yard in a small town. Because of that dream, he then chose to resign.

You will always remember me with this flower.

“But are you sure about that dream?” I asked Hisashi.

“It does sound silly,” Hisashi replied. “I was just following my intuition.”

“But you can grow flowers in this city, right?”

“Yes, but I will try to follow my dream.”

Finally that night we parted ways. Just before parting ways, Hisashi broke the hime flower on the top of his head. He then gave the flower to me.

“You will always remember me with this flower,” Hisashi said. “You are my best friend.”

Since then I have never met Hisashi. I also don't know where my good friend went.

For years, I carried the hime flower Hisashi gave me. I took it with me wherever I moved. It remained fine through all the changes. Even after I married my wife and had two children who are now twenty-four and twenty-one, I still take good care of the hime flower Hisashi gave me.

“So this flower will never wilt?” My wife’s face was getting redder because she was drunk.

“That’s it,” I replied flatly. “May this flower remain beautiful!”

Rie and I stared at the flowers without much idea of what kind of future we would face in our old age like this. So too, perhaps, with Hisashi who was nowhere to be found with the flowers in his life.

Note:

1. Onsen: a hot spring that comes from a natural hot spring.
2. Izayaki: a place to eat or drink that provides food or drinks that contain alcohol.
3. Sensei: a term for someone who has special abilities. Sensei does not always refer to a teacher. He can be a doctor, architect, or lecturer.
4. Obachan: a close term of address for an older woman (grandmother).

Risda Nur Widia. Lecturer at Nahdlatul Ulama University Yogyakarta. Currently pursuing a doctoral degree in the Department of Indonesian Language and Literature Education (UNY). Her single book is Buaya di Hindia Timur(2020). Her short stories have been published in various media.

Thomas Ari Kristianto, Bachelor of Design at Bandung Institute of Technology, then Master of Architecture at Sepuluh Nopember Institute of Technology (ITS), then Doctor of Architecture at the same campus, but has not graduated. Now teaches design at ITS, runs an interior architecture firm, and collects and pays attention to the world of fine art.