Kojima stuck her tongue out. A wide grin was across her pale face. Her nose was scrunched and her shoulders stiffened. Yumi, standing directly behind her, pushed her out of the tree. She landed almost in a ball, her entire body close together. Her feet landed first followed by her lose arms to absorb the rest of the fall.

          Kojima shot a sour look up at her friend. Yumi returned the look, but had trouble keeping a straight face. As usual, Kojima smiled too and spread out on the grass. Getting back up in that tree would be too much trouble for her. She decided to hang out closer to the center of gravity’s pull. She’d be back on her perch soon enough.

          Yumi kicked her feet back and forward in an attempt to get Kojima’s attention. But Kojima’s focus was on something else. Yumi looked up. She saw nothing of any interest. Only leaves of the tree and clouds in the sky. What was Kojima looking at? It was obviously of interest. Kojima didn’t even blink. She didn’t even wear a readable expression. Just that blank stare…

          Kojima stared that way often, usually at nothing in particular. It gave her a kind of sad look. People of their village didn’t think of her as the funny, cheery type she really was. Full of fire. That’s how she had always been. Yet she had always seemed so distant. As distant as her name—Kojima—hinted. In Japanese kojima meant small island. And that’s what she was. A small island out in the ocean nobody paid attention to. But that’s how she liked it. Kojima usually had a hard time with people. New people, more accurately. 

          Her name was actually ironic. Kojima hated water. The closest she got was splashing in puddles and playing in the rain. She loved the rain, but hated water. People thought that weird. She’d go and play in the shallow parts of the river sometimes, but not much more. She always said, “I only trust the water when I can see what’s at the bottom.” But she never even went to swim in the clearest of waters. Yumi knew she hated the insecurity. Her friend was a person of fire. Kojima didn’t want her flame to fizzle out.

          Yumi, on the other hand, didn’t mind the water. When they and their two other best friends went to swim, Yumi’d watch Kojima wade in the shallow water and watch the small fish swim by her bare legs. Kojima had always been fascinated with animals and nature.

          Just to get a rise from her, Yumi would splash at the fish and make them swim away. Kojima and Yumi were always messing with each other. Yumi was the worst, but Kojima was not one to go off about, even though she blew up very easily. Yumi was just a good friend, so she didn’t mind.

          Yumi was a regular girl. She made friends regularly and was regularly over curious. But she regularly always got caught. Even the oblivious Kojima was ten times as sneaky. But Kojima didn’t get cocky, like Yumi. Yumi and Kojima were very much alike when they were talking to each other. They laughed at the same things and talked about roughly the same things. Yumi talked more about the riots and uprisings merchants and travelers caused in the town. She paid more attention to what was happening to her. Very much unlike Kojima, who knew little of what was happening to her close surroundings. She kept more information on what happened away from her. She knew much more of the outside world from talks with the travelers.

          Yumi liked travelers too, but not for the same reason as her friend. She liked the guys and their tall tales of adventure that were obviously a load of crap.

          While Kojima spent much time sketching nature and the town, Yumi went to the forest’s clearings to shoot her bow and arrows. Yumi was dead accurate and never missed her mark. In fact, her name—Yumi—meant beautiful bow in Japanese. She loved to shoot things. She’d shoot fruit from trees and fish swimming in the water. Kojima had tried to use the bow and arrows, but she had little control over a weapon she couldn’t guide all the way to the target. Yumi liked very much that she could do something her artistically talented friend could not. Kojima was the fire wall, but Yumi was the dead accurate guarantee.

          They were quite a pair. Kojima would fearlessly take on any male warrior in the village and Yumi would bravely take out anyone from afar who dared mess with her behind her back. But mainly they taunted each other. The only thing that slowed them down was their two male friends, Saruwatari and Matsuo. They were cousins, Matsuo two years younger than Saruwatari. Matsuo was the same age as Kojima and one year older than Yumi. They were the most inseparable group in the village of Nakamura.

          The cousins were nothing out of the ordinary, unlike the girls they hung out with. The only difference between them and the rest of the boys in Nakamura was the fact that they were genuinely nice to everyone. They respected their elders and helped out younger children. They liked the opposite sex in a respectful way and never tried to trick girls into anything. Kojima, knowing the two for near all of her life, told Yumi, who had only known them a few years, that it was because their family was of religious descent. Their grandparents were in charge of the old village shrines and memorial sights. Saruwatari and Matsuo had just been raised properly. The Masato clan were to be respected.

          But Kojima of the Hotaru Omyasaka clan and Yumi of the Hamano clan were not of a decent that was coveted throughout the village. But they didn’t mind. Life was just fine for them. For a while, at least.