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Cherry's Story Chapter 7 - From Your Loving Cherry

Added 2021-02-25 19:00:03 +0000 UTC

Cherry realizes she is exhausted.

She looks out the window. The grass is pretty under the moonlight and she can just barely hear leaves rustling outside. Her pale reflection on the window overlays the school buildings.

A yawn escapes her. She notices her diary on the windowsill and picks it up. Cherry solemnly reads the entries she’s written thus far and then stares at the date for the last entry. It’s been two weeks since she last had the energy to record any event in her life.

She returns to her desk and stirs a mug of coffee, made from Mima’s special brew. Apparently, this is the result of Mima’s months of researching her mother’s recipe. So far, Cherry likes it, but it is lacking a certain something. She’s no coffee critic, but it does make her want something stronger.

Cherry dives back into a reading. She has to do a group project with some classmates and her basic grasp of Celestian is hampering her abilities as always. This is making the days pass slower than ever. Her anxiety, coupled with her dashed hopes of speaking Celestian fluently, has caused ongoing feuds between her and her teammates. Cherry has mostly given up on communicating effectively with them and in class she usually mutters to herself in Yayue about her fatigue, to the annoyance of her teammates who clearly don’t speak a word of it. Even the support of Mima and her little cat has not given her solace. She returns to her bedroom each day defeated and is unwilling to go to school the next. Only the guilt over all the money spent on her education is enough to make her want to step outside.

I just want to go home.

Her eyes grow weary and she tries to look at something else. The calendar catches her attention. In three days, the postmaster will arrive at Celeste Academy to send international mail. She should write something. But the dread — the dread she feels at the prospect of writing a letter back home is overwhelming her. If she mentions anything about this, the people in the village would be worried sick.

She wants to contact Mima and ask her for help. The second she reaches for her phone, her brain tells her that this is a sign of weakness and she stops. A Yayue like her should have more dignity and self-esteem than this.

Cherry sighs and returns to her work.

After parking her scooter, Mima heads to the post office and greets the postmaster who has just returned from a trip.

“I’ve got your package,” he says with an old, wrinkled smile.

The postmaster’s actually a retired pilot who can’t help but keep on communicating with his old buddies around the world. While he doesn’t fly the skies anymore, he’s volunteered himself as the person who brings bags of international mail to the airport every three months or so. This is quite the task to undertake since the closest airport isn’t on the islands themselves but in another country altogether called Corrido. He has to ride on a boat for six hours and carry tons of mail to the airport all by himself. The postmaster calls it exercise for his muscles and it’s impossible not to admire how fit he is in his old age.

“I’m surprised at how quick the delivery service was,” Mima says. “I thought books from Yayue would arrive months later.”

“That’s a thing of the past, just like me.” The postmaster gives out a hearty laugh before continuing, “I assume you’ve heard about aerodynamics Attunements? They’ve helped cut down fuel expenditure dramatically and planes don’t need to refuel every so often. Soon, planes will replace boats as the cheapest mode of transportation!”

Mima imagines Cherry on a plane as she signs the invoice and receives the package.

“Have a good day, Mima.” The postmaster tips his hat. “I might be around tomorrow for coffee.”

“It’d be a pleasure!”

Mima rides back to her snazzy cafe with her package. After opening for business, she takes out five books from the box and places them on the table. Mima snaps a picture of the books — Learning Yayue with Mingming I to V! — and sends it to her chat with Huiyin:

Mima: Look, Huiyin! Got myself some textbooks to learn Yayue. It’s pricey, but I want to communicate with you!

She realizes that she should check to see if the books are damaged. Whoops. Mima flips through their pages and sees cartoony visuals of a dragon and a little girl with pigtails talking about the grammar of Yayue. Everything looks fine.

Mima goes back to her phone and wonders if Huiyin, still going by Cherry, has responded yet. Huiyin is still offline, it seems. Mima reflects on the sporadic nature of Huiyin’s recent Wondr messages, something which has been worrying her lately.

Cherry: Do not worry about me! I am happy here!

When Mima reads messages like this, her concern grows tremendously. The idea of Huiyin trying to smile through her hardships when she’s so obviously uncomfortable… It makes her really sad.

At the very least, Huiyin will be here again soon. The cafe has become one of her two major study spots, the other being the Hartnell Memorial Library. She’s guaranteed to come here and chat with her every weekend.

Mima smiles at the prospect. She tries to say Huiyin’s name again, always feeling like the pronunciation is somehow off. When she can finally say her name correctly, maybe she will feel deserving of that kiss Cherry gave her.

Thinking about the kiss makes her blush, so much so that the cafe regulars aware of her current situation with Huiyin start to snicker amongst themselves.

“You really are drowning in love, aren’t you?” says an amused onlooker.

“If only I could make coffee out of that,” she says.

Cherry enters the cafe, whiffing the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans.

There’s more customers around since the last time she visited and Mima told her on Wondr that she’s finally starting to make a profit. The cafe got a review on a popular coffee website which highlighted the unique taste of the coffee and the atmosphere of the place.

Cherry read the review and agreed with it but couldn't help but think they should’ve written something about how pleasant the owner is. Mima talks to anyone who’s feeling chatty and her knowledge on topics is broad. There’s always something she can break the ice with.

To a certain extent, Cherry wonders if she envies her.

She takes her regular seat — by the windowsill — and takes out the journal articles she just printed. As usual, she’s already circled the titles and translated them into Yayue.

It’s a lot of effort just to get something so basic.

Although Cherry does feel that her grasp of the language has grown more sophisticated thanks to Lexa’s help, she still fumbles on tenses and punctuation usage. It doesn’t help that some journal articles are noticeably poorly written and most of her exposure to the written language comes from reading them.

“Huiyin?”

As she reads through an article about possible intersections between Attunements and medicine, her concentration slips into brooding over her homesickness and fatigue. What if she stops going to school?

“Huiyiiiin…”

It’s not too long until a break between terms will happen. Cherry originally thought that the breaks sounded too long when she was applying for the school, but now she desperately wants them. It’s weird to feel so physically exhausted when she just sits and reads each day — but that’s how it is.

“Huiyin!”

Cherry jolts and sees Mima sitting before her. Mima’s pouting tremendously and looks playfully annoyed.

“I wanted to see you,” Mima says. “It’s hard not to think about you, you know.”

“I’m sorry!” Cherry holds Mima’s hands. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you’re here! Are you not feeling good? You can rest upstairs if you want.”

“I-It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

Cherry sighs and looks down at her papers. She feels like she’s disappointing everyone she knows, even Mima, who thinks of her as a bright girl.

“Hey Huiyin,” Mima says, “I just picked up some books on learning Yayue. I sent you some pictures on Wondr.”

“Really?” Cherry ponders how Mima’s pronunciation of her Yayue name is getting better. “What for?”

“Just to speak to you!” Mima smiles and her cheeks are tinged with a strong blush. “I’m getting curious about Yayue culture anyway.”

“Thank you!”

Cherry bows her head, but she also wonders if thanking Mima was the right mode of expression for conveying her gratitude. Language sure is difficult.

“You're welcome!” Mima replies in rough Yayue, smiling even broader. Cherry's mouth falls open in shock.

“You’re speaking Yayue!”

“Hehe. I just looked up some common expressions from the textbooks. I thought it’d be cute to memorize some of them.”

Cherry squeezes Mima’s hands before saying, “That’s very cute. Very cute!”

The customers around them turn their heads. Oops, she really raised her volume there. All Cherry can say is a whispered “sorry.”

Mima starts to laugh and Cherry deflates from embarrassment.

But it’s okay, every day with Mima is a blessing.

Cherry can’t help but smile and completely forgets that she was sad a few minutes ago.

To herself, she thinks she must really be in love with Mima.

Mima is watching Huiyin nuzzle the cat when she hears the door open. She glances over and sees a familiar gruffy face.

Ah, the postmaster’s arrived.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, scrounging for cash as he approaches the counter. The postmaster coughs before dropping some change down on the table, “Another one of your lovely concoctions, Mima.”

The coins tumble onto the table and the cat’s ears perk up at the commotion.

“Sure can do.”

The cat purrs when Huiyin rubs her belly.

“How’s the mail gathering going?” Mima says while walking to the cabinet for a fresh bag of coffee beans. The postmaster always gets special treatment, having been one of her first regulars at the cafe. “Any stories?”

“I have to send a package of fruits to another country. Farmer uptown wants to send some of their produce to their kid studying far away. There've been lots of international students lately.”

“Huiyin right here is one.”

Huiyin looks up from the cat rolling around on the floor. Her eyes meet the postmaster’s.

“Nice to meet you there,” the postmaster says.

“Nice.” Huiyin inhales sharply as if she’s bitten her tongue. “To meet you.”

“Don’t be shy. I’m just a nobody as far as most are concerned, haha. Say, are you from Celeste Academy? I’ll be going there tomorrow.”

“Yes, the international student association says you will mail.”

“Yep, that’s how it goes. I come to the school and grab every letter you want posted. Part of my routine.”

Mima finishes making the coffee and places it in front of the postmaster. “He’s how the rest of the world communicates with us,” she says. “An integral and yet somehow underappreciated element of the local community.”

“I see,” says Huiyin. “Best luck to you.”

Mima notices something’s still off with Huiyin: in particular, she’s been twiddling with her fingers a lot. She only does that when she’s really nervous. A part of Mima wants to ask her what’s wrong, but it might be awkward to bring it up while someone’s sipping their coffee in front of them.

“Oh yeah,” Mima says, trying to change the subject. “Have you written a letter to your family yet, Huiyin?”

Huiyin looks up at Mima like she’s going to cry.

“I … haven’t.”

Did — Did I mess up?

“Letters are hard. I feel sad here, but I don’t want to convey my feelings to my family. If they know, they’ll be worried.” Tears drop onto the cat’s fur. “I want people back home to be happy I’m here. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

Mima watches Huiyin with concern. She’s still stroking the cat. The postmaster sips his coffee, his hat tipped down to obscure his eyes.

“Write your actual feelings out,” says the postmaster. “It’s much better when it’s sincere.”

“Why?” Huiyin tries to wipe her tears away with the sleeve of her shirt.

“People worry about you more if you hide what you’re really feeling. It’s easy to hide, but it’s also easy for people to tell when something is up.” The postmaster adjusts his hat and winks at Mima. “Someone here would know all about that.”

“Mima…?”

Mima remembers a time after her mother’s funeral when she couldn’t help but shut people out. The postmaster was the one who told her that admitting you are vulnerable is fine. She nods at Huiyin.

“I’m not strong nor am I brave, I think.” Mima tries to break a smile while figuring out what to say to Huiyin. “Most people aren’t. So maybe it’s fine to be sincere with your feelings, since people will have felt the same and maybe know how to help you. And I’ll admit that I’m a bit worried about you, anyways.”

“You are?” Huiyin blinks.

“I knew something was off when you just kept saying you were happy and fine.” Mima holds Huiyin’s hands and strokes them. “I want to know what’s hurting you because I care about you. I feel awkward when you say that you’re happy even though I can tell you’re not. It’s like you don’t want my help.”

“No, I — I’m not hurt. It just confuses me. I am confused.”

“That’s fine. I can try to help. What are you confused about?”

“I don’t know what to say to my family without disappointing them.”

The postmaster finishes his cup of coffee.

“Being honest with yourself and others is the hardest part of writing a letter,” he begins softly, “but that’s what makes them good. Every piece of mail I’ve delivered to people has been filled with all kinds of emotions and feelings. You see this when you hand someone their mail. People aren’t just happy or sad. They receive a flux of emotions that can’t be described in mere words. Letters are messy because we humans are messy by nature. Being honest with those messy feelings is how you make your loved ones trust you when you say that you’re doing okay.”

The postmaster looks up and says, “Thanks for the lovely coffee as always. And to you” — he turns toward Huiyin — “I look forward to receiving your letter tomorrow.”

Mima and Huiyin watch the postmaster get up and walk away, the cafe doors swinging behind him.

A few minutes after the postmaster has left the cafe, Cherry speaks up.

“Can you help me write the letter?”

“Of course,” Mima says with a smile.

From there, the two of them ponder how to compose the letter. Cherry talks about her ideas and writes up several drafts in Yayue while Mima points her in some fresh directions that Cherry would’ve never taken herself.

The next day, Cherry proudly presents the postmaster with her finished letter.

“How was it?” says the postmaster.

“It was good and relieving,” Cherry says, almost squeaking.

She’s so happy about the letter that she’s copied it verbatim to her diary, and even translated it too. The letter has finally ended the drought of entries in her diary and given her the willpower she needs to continue recording the events of her life.

Cherry waves goodbye to the postmaster, hoping that the letter will arrive safely in the hands of her friends and family in Yayue.

Dear Family and Friends,

How is everybody doing in Yayue? I miss the food and atmosphere there. The mountains and rivers must be beautiful right now. I still remember the sparkle of water and the smell of herbs from Granny Lu’s apothecary.

On my side of things, I have seen many ups and downs. I’ve met a lovely person named Mima and I wish to introduce her to everyone in the village someday. My roommate (much like the movies!) is a stern but actually quite adorable librarian named Lexa. They’ve helped me figure out the ways of the Rococo Islands. Uncle Xu was right when he said I’d be very confused about the different path lanes I have to take: people here walk on the right side and that’s so confusing! I always crash into people and have to apologize with my poor Celestian.

But also, I miss Yayue a lot. I’m homesick and lonely in school. It isn’t that the school is bad or anything; I just feel awkward being in a foreign land. Everyone here is nice, but I don’t want to take them for granted. I don’t want to disappoint any of these people by taking advantage of their gratitude and never repaying them back. But that’s what I feel everyday, especially to Mima and Lexa who both have spent their time teaching me Celestian grammar.

I have mixed feelings about being here. I’m both happy and sad, energetic and exhausted, and many more. These paradoxical feelings are messy and I don’t know how to approach them, let alone reveal them to people who could help sometimes. Yet, I can see it in their eyes when they are worried for me.