Dreams of the Quill

by Flak

Where I go to school, people are paired together by similarity in name. These pairs, officially referred to as ‘Entwined Branches’, mean little these days. We live together, take most meals together, talk to eachother, and treat eachother like good friends. I once read in a book explaining the history of Kurosakura U that the Entwined Branches were not originally meant to coexist well, but to exist as one, each half serving the other’s needs and covering for the other’s weaknesses. In this manner, lifelong bonds were formed. Kurosakura U, while not renowned for its capability for teaching, was well known as the school in Japan that had the most stress on social success.

I’d heard, before coming, that these old traditions had been dropped and that the school was, in fact, merely another college with little to offer. Had I known that the school still had the Entwined Branches system, I would not have come. Obligations to interact with other humans outside of business and work were not what I considered fun off-time, especially after my experiences in the public high school back home. Needless to say, when I was paired off with my partner, I was rather unhappy. When I learned that the emphasis on the bond had been lowered significantly, I decided to hang in there and deal with it.

My partner’s name is Nimue Fuuko. My first reaction to hearing this was shock. This was what they’d meant by similarity in name? It made sense after I put more thought into it. Of course they wouldn’t pair alphabetically by the romaji for our names. They paired based on the similarity in the kanji of our names, in the meanings. I learned that day that the kanji for Fuuko’s ‘fuu’ was the same as for my entire name- the character for wind. So we were paired- this Nimue girl and me.

We entered the dorm room together on the first day, awkward being an understatement. The look on her face told me what her exact thoughts were. A male and a female, no relation, alone in a private room- a room, needless to say, with a bed. I broke the silence by tossing my luggage onto the top bunk and opening the window. I stood at the window for a while, staring out at the sky, waiting for something- anything- to happen. When I heard the door close, I spun around instantly, and found Nimue’s suitcase sitting there beside the bottom bunk, the lock off. As for my partner, she had left.

Not too keen on leaving the room for anything, I sat on my bunk reading a course guide, a Japanese kanji dictionary at my side. I fell asleep at some point, to be awakened at one or two in the morning when Nimue entered the room quietly, closed the door behind her, and, seeing me awake, smiled.

“I’m home,” she said.

“Welcome home,” I said, rubbing my eyes and trying my best to look alert.

And that was the end of any awkward feelings.

Nimue Fuuko is a very kind person. She worries about what others think, yet she does not let that limit her. She’s outgoing and tries to help others when she has the opportunity, though not without a stylish amount of false sloth. She has mid-length black hair that is neither glossy nor plain, and her eyes sparkle a brilliant green when she smiles. She’s tall and thin, and it seems like she’s always got one of her long limbs sprawled out somewhere when she’s relaxed.

She helps me with my Japanese. She enjoys tying to cook and, in jest, forcing me to taste the stuff she produces; in return jest, I overreact and run for the bathroom. In reality, it’s simply just not that good, but she’s really trying hard. Her obsession with something she’s not good at reminds me of the young me, scrawling and scrawling on spare sheets of paper, trying to write a story. She speaks in a relaxed and informal dialect and always greets me with a ‘yo’. She refers to herself as ‘ore’, and I’ve never seen her wear a skirt, courtesy of Kurosakura U’s lack of uniforms.

If there’s one thing that this Entwined Branches thing made me learn, it’s that people can get along. Nimue- no, Fuuko- is an agreeable person. I’m not sure what would have gone down if I’d been paired with someone who wasn’t so kind and easy-going, but I’m sure it would have worked out alright. It’s definitely a nice change from back in America, where I could honestly say my only friend was my computer. Now, I can’t imagine going back, back to a place without Fuuko and the others.

Despite what I’d thought at first, the Kurosakura U custom is good. In fact, I don’t think I’d mind if the bond of the Entwined Branches were as strongly enforced as it was in the past, though I’m also relieved, for Fuuko, that it isn’t.

Our bond is strong. Perhaps the strongest a bond can be- the bond between two true friends.

We have unspoken agreements on everything; we don’t impose on eachother as a general rule but if we do, the other doesn’t mind, we take turns cleaning and paying for delivery meals (I can’t cook either), we each respect the privacy of the other and at the same we each demand little privacy from the other, and, most of all, we worry if the other goes missing. Granted, I’ve caused Fuuko more worry than she’s caused me, but that can’t exactly be helped. The reason for that is another story entirely.