[Short Story/Flower Series #5] Scarlet Pimpernel

I picked up the girl in front of a small playground
along the prefectural road, near Kansai International Airport.

She was wearing a tracksuit and a small daypack.
She looked to be about 15 or 16.
Not quite young enough to be my granddaughter, but younger than my own daughter.

I knew immediately she was a runaway.
Under the harsh, glaring light of a fluorescent streetlamp in the middle of the night,
she was crouching like an abandoned puppy.

When I pulled over and opened the passenger door,
she looked up at me with large, dark eyes for a moment,
then climbed in without a word.

Dirty, worn-out sneakers,
messy hair,
and a purple bruise visible on the skin peeking out from her collar.

"Where do you want to go?"
"...Anywhere is fine..."
"Well, alright. Just get some sleep."

The girl nodded once and immediately closed her eyes.

Thick eyebrows, slightly deep-set features, large black eyes.
At a glance, I knew she was from the same region as me.

My car carrier truck
went from the prefectural road onto National Route 481 and then onto the Hanwa Expressway.
I was transporting a classic-looking sports car called a Honda S800 that I had purchased
to the repair shop I run.

By the time I got off at the Kii-Tanabe Interchange,
the spring sky was beginning to turn pale with dawn.
While waiting at a traffic light on the local road, the girl woke up.

"Are you from the main island?"
"..."
"Are you from Okinawa?"

The girl nodded in surprise.
"...Nakijin Village."

Nakijin Village is a quiet village in the northern part of Okinawa's main island,
rich in nature and famous for watermelons and pineapples.

Knowing we were from the same home region (though I'm from Naha City), as I listened,
the girl began to tell me her story in a halting voice.

When she was 10, her mother divorced her father, who had a bad temper when drinking.
Forcibly left behind with her father, who ran a watermelon farm,
she was made to help with farm work, couldn't study properly,
and was abused by her father at every opportunity.

This spring, upon graduating from junior high, she ran away from her father,
wanting to learn the dance she loved, and with her meager savings,
she made it as far as Kansai Airport before running out of money,
which is when I picked her up.

"What's your name?"
"...Ruri. My nickname is Kusa."
"Kusa? That's terrible!"

In Okinawa, weeds in the field are called "kusa."
It seems Ruri had been told by her father at every turn,
"You're a useless weed!"

I decided to drive this poor runaway girl to the southernmost tip of Honshu
to show her that flower.
At this time of year, we should definitely be able to see it.

I parked the car carrier at a small fishing port,
and taking the sleepy-eyed Ruri with me,
I headed toward the rocky shore jutting out into the Pacific Ocean.

Perhaps awakened by the sound of the waves,
Ruri gazed at the sea with her large eyes, looking nostalgic.

Just before the rocky shore, on a sandy patch about the size of ten tatami mats,
some low-growing grass was sparsely scattered.

A man who appeared to be a photographer
was crouching there, taking pictures of small flowers.
Seeing those flowers, Ruri ran over.

"Oh, Kasaminna!"

The surprised photographer turned to look at Ruri and me.

Once I explained the situation, the photographer seemed relieved and
began talking to us.

"Is that so? In Okinawa, you call this scarlet pimpernel
Kasaminna, do you?
I hear it's treated like a weed in the Nansei Islands,
but on the mainland, it's a very precious flower
that only blooms in this area.
I even drove five hours from Nagoya just to photograph it.
This beautiful lapis lazuli color and the yellow stamens
are so characteristic of tropical flowers, aren't they wonderful!"

Hearing the photographer's words,
Ruri smiled shyly, looking happy.

That's right, Ruri is no weed.
If you look closely, her large black eyes, her deeply carved features,
her slender but long limbs, and above all, her carefree smile,
are as vivid and beautiful as this scarlet pimpernel.

Perhaps noticing Ruri's simple, rustic beauty,
the photographer turned his lens toward her as well.

"Yes, those dimples are great! You look just like Saori Minami in her prime!"

Even though she was shy,
Ruri happily struck a pose.

Watching her, I realized that, despite my age,
I was drawn to this girl's simple beauty.
It wasn't love or romance,
but perhaps a fatherly feeling,
a desire to help her dreams come true.

Just as the seeds of Okinawan flowers ride the Kuroshio Current all the way here,
take root in Kushimoto, and bloom,
captivating the people of the mainland.

That's it, I'll repaint the body of the Honda S800 I bought
from its original crimson
to a deep blue like the scarlet pimpernel.
A color that reminds one of the open sea beyond the reefs of Okinawa.

Two years have passed since then.

To earn the money to become a dancer, Ruri works covered in oil at my factory.
Her figure is as beautiful as the scarlet pimpernel blooming on the rugged shore.

It seems it won't be too far in the future before Ruri's dream comes true.

< End >

Thank you for reading.
This story is a work of fiction.
Regarding the Okinawan dialect,
there are some differences depending on the region,
so please forgive me if I have made any mistakes.

Author: birdfilm Tatsuhiko Masuda