Work Text:
That day, on the first day of our school trip, I saw a beautiful person in the woods.
Actually, I wasn’t even sure of what I saw, sure of if they actually existed. It happened in an instant. So fast that it could’ve been a daydream or an illusion.
But they were breathtaking.
☆☆☆
As the scenery passes, blurred by the speed of the shinkansen, Junta finishes the last, lonely pocky left in the chocolate smelling paper box. He laughs at the lame joke made by one of the three friends sitting besides and in front of him, almost choking on the snack, only to earn a “you reap what you saw” from one of the two others. He scoffs and crushes the empty box flat before slipping it in the bin under the window.
Standing up and getting out of the train after two hours feels good and he stretches, breathing in the fresh air. It is fifteen minutes later or so that they get on a bus that brings them straight to the inn they will be staying at for the four days and three nights.
The inn looks sober and is surrounded by trees all dressed up for the autumn festival. The rooms booked for the school trip are apparently all on the second floor, looking simple and minimalistic. A small pond sits there, in the middle of the garden, a lonely red koi silently swimming in the clear water under the floating leaves.
★★★
Fiery leaves and branches crack under Junta’s sneakers as he walks between the trees alongside the three classmates assigned to his group. The air is fresh, a lot more than in Tokyo, and he thinks that it’s a nice place to spend time and hum some songs that come to his mind.
And it is there, when he is just a little far away from his classmates — by only a few meters, that he sees them, when a sudden gush of wind rises and brushes the woods. In the surprise of the strong wind cutting his breath, he gasps and closes his eyes. Then, what he thinks is a person with a kitsune mask and long, golden hair, hiding behind a tree is looking at him. Actually, that person could be not looking at him. They may be looking at one of his classmates, or at the tree behind him or next to him or-... And the next instant, after he shuts his eyelids for a hundred milliseconds, the figure has disappeared in a light breeze that was quiet enough to not even wake up the amber leaves sleeping under the trees. And suddenly, Junta feels an empty space in his chest, as if it just opened, made some space, for something important to come and lie there. He stares at the tree, half wondering if he dreamt, half tasting the feeling he doesn’t know is love at first sight yet.
“Hey, Teshima! What are you doing? We’re gonna leave you there!”
“Ah sorry! Coming right now!”, he responds, but eyes still on the tree. And finally, after letting his gaze linger for a second longer, he turns away and catches up to his classmates. “Sorry!”, he laughs in light embarrassment.
★★★
At night, Junta can’t fall asleep. He tries to count sheep, tries to think of nothing, then tries to think of something pleasant, tries out different positions, takes off the blankets, puts them back on… He can’t sleep. In the end, he always goes back to thinking about that beautiful person he saw in the afternoon, coming back to his mind like the light tinkling of a bell. He slowly opens his eyes at the dim, blue moonlight slipping through the thin opening of the sliding doors leading to the balcony. He shuts his eyes and sighs in frustration before opening them again, determined to get up and sneak out for a walk.
“Wow, it’s cold…”
The forest at night is chilly and Junta shivers, feeling his body hairs stand on his skin and he regrets going out with only a tshirt and shorts on.
Nevertheless, he steps through the woods, sneakers crushing the cushions of dried leaves, carefully looking around him in the hope of finding that ‘dream’ of his again.
This time, the wind rushes from behind, but much weaker than in the afternoon. Still, Junta’s eyes widen and he turns around in the space of half a second. And there, he spots it, the white and red mask looking like it is shining under the moonlight. As soon as what he assumes is his eyes meeting the fox’s, they turn away to run.
“H-Hey! Wai-”
And he finds himself running after the masked one, then losing sight of them, and finding them behind him. The half tag game, half hide and seek goes on and on, and Junta isn’t sure of if this is reality or dream. Maybe he fell asleep at the entrance of the forest, or maybe he didn’t sneak out of the inn at all and is asleep like everybody else.
When the fox turns away to run again, their hair softly lifted by the fresh breeze and Junta senses panic bobble inside his chest. “ Don’t go yet…! ”
His foot then suddenly slips on the leaves and the last thing he remembers is falling before everything goes dark.
☆☆☆
A loud thud makes his fluffy ears twitch and he turns around, fast, and sees no one following him. His fingers slowly move to touch the red string in his hair. He steps forward, a little unsure, aware of every sound and movement around him. After seconds, he still sees no one.
“ Can humans disappear too...? ”
When a crow leaves its branch in a flap, he flinches, his heartbeat suddenly jumping high. He sighs in relief at the sight of the black bird flying away.
It is then that he notices ‘Teshima’, he learned earlier, lying in a pit in the middle of dead leaves. Nervousness hit him as he remembers how weak humans are supposed to be. He goes down there and kneels down next to the human boy. For the first time, he can see the boy’s face from up close and he reaches out, then hand stopping midway at first, hesitant, an finally brushing the wavy strands away from the tips of his fingers.
It winds again, air flowing between the trees and the boy’s cheeks feel cold. Unfamiliar with this kind of situation, he looks around them in panic, then at the boy again, biting his lips. And suddenly, an idea pops in his head.
☆☆☆
When Junta wakes up, his back hurts and his head is heavy. The sun is already up past dawn. He finds himself lying in the middle of orange leaves and confused until he remembers about how he couldn’t sleep last night and sneaked out of the inn and then… He doesn’t remember if what happened after was only a delusion or not, but the fur clinging to his clothes tells him the dream was real. The tinkling bell of the mask consistently trots in his mind.
Junta stands up and pats his clothes to get rid of the leaves and dust before taking his phone out. The screen shows no network and 05:14.
“Shit,” he swears under his breath in the perspective of the teachers finding out he is missing.
He eyes in different directions, wondering what he should do to get out of the woods because right now, right here, he has… absolutely no idea of where he is. His eyes then land on the ground, close to where he was lying just a minute ago and sees shingles mysteriously drawing a line. Intrigued, Junta decides to follow them, and after a little while, he finally gets out of the woods. The network is back, and it is now five thirty.
A light laughter escapes his lips and he whispers a “thanks”. Now, Junta is convinced that person is real and he is definitely going to come back and find them.
★★★
The village they visited today was lovely and probably very interesting but Junta can’t remember a thing about it. He’s been sleepy all day and almost regrets he went into the woods instead of taking rest. The only moment he was awake and conscious enough, he had asked about fox spirits to his friends and one of them had told him there was a shrine somewhere in the woods but he didn’t know a lot about it. And now, in the bus driving them back to the inn, Junta is dozing off, eyelids a lot heavier than they should be. Like two broken shutters one would desperately try to pull open but they would fall down again without fail. He gives himself up to the drowsiness and his forehead bangs against the back of the seat in front of his. He abruptly wakes up and squeaks in pain, bending down and holding his forehead tight.
The classmate sitting next to him quickly asks him if he’s alright and he thanks her for her concern, then secretly pouts and blames the fox.
★★★
Long after night falls and sure that everybody in the room is asleep, he silently gets up, careful enough to not wake anyone up. This time, he remembers to wear his black hoodie before walking out.
Junta acts calmer, more meticulously, looking unhurriedly between the trees and waiting for the wind. And when the forest breathes and Junta hears a light tinkling, his eyes widen in anticipation and he turns his head on his left to see the mask he has been waiting for.
They face each other, a few meters between them, and Junta stares at him for a good few seconds. The fox slowly steps back, hands hidden behind his — Junta has concluded by looking at his yukata — back. It doesn’t tastes like fear, nor reject, more like a silent invitation for Junta to follow him. Then, he disappears behind the tree and Junta quickly runs up to it only to find no one behind it. It tinkles again, not very far away and he spots the fox behind one of the nearest tree, and so on.
They play the tag game until daybreak and Junta feels eagerness instead of exhaustion. And at last, Junta walks up to the tree behind which the fox has hidden himself behind and is startled when he finds himself so close to the spirit, he guesses, for the very first time.
He opens his mouth but doesn’t find the word, still drunk with surprise and excitement and hearing his heartbeat in his ears.
“Um,” he finally manages start, “I… Huh… Hi!” his voice cracks and he suddenly feels very embarrassed. He looks down and kicks a fallen leaf lying on the ground then shifts on his weight. The fox spirit doesn’t respond and Junta has no idea of what expression the guy is wearing right now and he wishes he could bury himself in the masses of leaves and disappear.
He raises his head again and notices the fox has his head down too, probably looking at the leaf he just kicked and he wonders why that is even interesting in the very slightest. When the spirit notices, he raises his head too, maybe, probably, looking at Junta in the eyes with assurance. He clears his throat and thinks the fox just tilted his head. Though the motion was so small he isn’t quite sure.
When Junta takes a breath in and speaks again, the sun is up enough for the golden-pink light to reflect on the fox’s mask and hair, making him shine under the morning glow.
“I’m Teshima Junta. What’s your name?”
He smiles, expectant. He usually talks very easily to anyone, so he wonders why his blood is rushing so fast in his veins right now. He wonders if it is the fact of the fox being a fox, or a spirit — or both of them, and he isn’t even sure of his guess — or if it is because of his crush moving from that one cute girl sitting next to him in class to a blonde ghost wearing a mask.
After seconds of silence, Junta is ready to give up when the other finally speaks up.
“…Aoyagi…Hajime…” he starts, voice a little hoarse and the tips of his fingers touching the string holding his mask, “Hajime is written like… number one…”
★★★
On the third day of the school trip, Junta feigns sickness. He tells the classmates sharing his room and the teacher his head hurts and that he feels all but good enough to go wherever they were planning to go. To be completely honest, he had already feigned headaches or stomachaches once or twice because of reasons , but he had never done that before on a test or a school trip. He would definitely get in trouble if he is caught wandering outside when he is supposed to be lying down half dead. And to begin with, it would be a waste to not fully enjoy the school trip. But right now, he had something — or more like someone on his mind that wouldn’t leave his thoughts and he almost can’t keep himself from smiling like a dimwit in the perspective of seeing ‘Aoyagi’ again. Since early morning, Junta had been repeating “Aoyagi Hajime” to himself again and again, until he was fast asleep. And not only does he feel dumb for acting like such a shoujo heroine, but he also thinks that he probably had the weirdest reaction ever for someone who’s just met a goddamn spirit.
When Junta wakes up again around eleven, there is no one left from his school in the inn. Technically. Hopefully. If anyone’s actually stayed, he’s doomed.
It takes him forever to brush his hair today, like every other day in his life and he practically cries every morning and evening. On rainy days, his hair becomes such a disaster he honestly wishes he was bald. Even if now, a pretty girl told him his hair looked nice, he would want to get rid of it. He is done with it. He gives a half-assed tired frown at the bed-hair that decided to not leave him live through today and figures out that making his dark wavy mass a ponytail would be the easiest way to flee from the battlefield.
The sky is cloudy, even menacing when Junta steps out of the inn but it doesn’t seem like it is going to rain yet and he prays. At dawn, the sky seemed pretty clear, so he guesses it probably got covered gray when he was sleeping. He doesn’t particularly mind the cloudy sky but thinks that it’s probably going to get colder at night.
This time, Aoyagi hides in more places than just behind the trees, sometimes up there, sometimes under a pile of leaves. When he bursts out of there, Junta jolts like a startled rabbit but the sight of Aoyagi with the leaves and branches stabbed in his hair and clinging to his entire body is so endearingly silly that Junta can’t keep himself from bursting in laughter. And the icing on the cake is that adorable tilt of head Aoyagi gives him and Junta thinks he is probably falling too deep.
Aoyagi bends on his side, taking a closer, curious look at the plastic bag hanging on Junta’s arm.
“Ah, that? Are you hungry? I bought some onigiris on the way here.”
“ !!! ”
Junta can’t see the fox’s face but the little gasp and back straightening he got were enough to tell him that, indeed, Aoyagi was mostly very interested by the offer.
They sit down under a tree, Junta on a side and Aoyagi on the other, their backs against the trunk. Aoyagi has to at least partially take his mask off and Junta wishes he could see, but he doesn’t ask for it. He assumes Aoyagi would have taken his mask off if he was comfortable with showing his face. And besides, it may also be because he can’t show his face for… ‘spirit reasons’, for instance.
“I was wondering,” Junta starts, “are you living somewhere nearby? Or farther away, maybe like… higher up in the mountains’ woods or something?”
Aoyagi doesn’t reply so he goes on.
“I live in Chiba, do you know where it is? It isn’t far away from Tokyo. Right now the temperatures are still pretty high there. I mean, you know, it gets a little chilly but it’s still around 15°C and higher even if it rains a lot. Do you like rain?” again, Aoyagi doesn’t say a thing but he listens, and Junta kinds of knows it. He doesn’t wait for a response to continue. “I personally don’t like the rain all that much. I mean, I don’t mind the rain in itself. It’s nice when it isn’t that heavy rainy season in the start of summer and everything feels calmer, even though it’s not really nice when you wanna go out biking and stuff… But you know, humidity and all… See, my hair curls when it gets humid and it’s a real pain . And this is enough to make me hate the rain,” he snorts at his own statement before speaking again. “Talking about the rain, did you know it almost never rains nor snow in Antarctica? Apparently because the air is so cold there the clouds have already rained and snowed everything before reaching most of the land!” Junta turns his head on the side then goes back to finish the onigiri he’s only just started eating.
He then notices the three other rice balls supposed to be in the plastic bag were already gone and he thinks it is pretty amazing.
“Wow you have some impressive appetite, I would’ve never thought by only looking at your size!”
“Hm,” Aoyagi groans in dissatisfaction at Junta’s comment.
“Oh. Are you…by any chance complexed by your height…?”
He doesn’t get another reply but earns an onigiri plastic wrap in his face and squeaks before laughing out loud.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Don’t get mad! Please,” he begs, still half giggling and Aoyagi lets out an indignant huff.
He wonders why, but Junta feels like he can read Aoyagi, and he understands that he’s being forgiven. He smiles.
It starts raining when he leaves. He tells Aoyagi he is coming back at night and the fox nods, bell tinkling in his hair.
★★★
Night falls around five in the afternoon and Junta is back at faking headache in his futon. Better stay credible around his classmates and teachers.
Again, when he thinks everyone is sleeping, he gets up and practically jumps out of his skin when one of them asks him where he is going. “Toilets,” he lies, and the guy instantly falls back asleep. “ Wow, ” he thinks.
Tonight is a little bit warmer than last night and he is thankful.
Aoyagi is there looking at the blue light slipping through the leaves and as soon as Junta steps closer, the fox turns around, mask glowing white in the nocturnal light.
“Hey.”
Junta smiles and Aoyagi nods. He walks up to the fox who watches him do so before raising his head to look upward, the way Aoyagi did when he noticed him.
“What were you looking at?”
He doesn’t get a response but nods anyway.
“The moonlight huh… Hey,” he restarts after a short pause, “aren’t there a lot of stars today? I mean on my way here I saw lots of them and I found it really nice. I mean you know, in big cities like Tokyo and its peripheries where there is a lot of light pollution so we can hardly see any star most of the time.”
Aoyagi’s ears twitch and Junta hears a soft “Ah!” from behind his mask before the fox reaches for his hoodie’s sleeve and tugs on it. He starts walking and Junta follows him, eyes wide and curious.
“Aoyagi? Where are you taking me to?”
No response here either, but he can hear the “ It’s a secret. ” in Aoyagi’s silence.
He lets Aoyagi pull on his sleeve and walks at the fox’s rhythm, talking about how a classmate Junta knows from middle school lived close to his house without either of them realising for this long.
Junta goes on and on until he cuts himself short as his eyes stop on the uncovered sky filled with stars like a canvas painted in pointedness, each star shining like it recounts a story of its own. The scenery is of such beauty, such amazingness that Teshima Junta has to remind himself of how to breathe.
“That’s…” he starts but instantly loses the words he didn’t have to begin with. “That’s amazing… I mean- It’s just… It’s like- It’s like thousands of fireworks froze up there! Together! I’m… I don’t know how to react Aoyagi.”
Junta turns to him, the white of the spirit’s mask reflecting the light almost like a mirror, and he is grinning from an ear to another, breathless, and he can sense Aoyagi’s grin behind the white fox face.
“Thanks for sharing this with me.”
The fox turns his head away, looking at his feet and Junta swears he can see a faint blush colour the tip of Aoyagi’s ears under the dim light.
Junta sits down next to him, careful not to shatter the moment that feels magical. He only hopes he won’t wake up the next morning and discover that none of that had happened, or worse, not even remember about it.
So, Junta takes his phone out and lifts it high, capturing the sparkling night sky. At Aoyagi’s curious stare, or what he guesses is one, he just says “Souvenir,” lips curled up and millions of stars shining in his eyes.
The both of them stay like this for a long time, Junta sometimes staying silent, sometimes talking about trivial things again, comfortable with each other no matter what they do as they watch the bright night sky.
Neither of them knows who made the move, but their fingers brush and they stay like this, the fragile touch connecting them.
“Tomorrow,” he begins, swallowing a little, “I have to go back to Chiba. But I promise I’ll come back. In winter. I will be back in winter. In January. I’ll come back after New Year.”
There is no reply he can hear in response, but somehow, he can sense Aoyagi’s silent agreement to meet him again in winter.
When Junta discreetly glances at Aoyagi, the boy’s mask is on his forehead instead of hiding his face whole, air stops in his lungs. He instantly forgets how to breathe as he catches a glimpse of Aoyagi’s face, his very thin, small, such a discreet smile that Junta would have missed if he wasn’t looking carefully enough. Thousands of flowers bloom in his lungs and millions of butterflies dance in his stomach. And finally, Junta thinks that he isn’t stupidly crushing on this fox spirit sitting besides him. He is stupidly in love.
★★★
In the bus that drives them back to the station, Junta watches the blurry edges of the amber woods, already missing the light tinkling in the soft looking blonde hair.
Junta falls asleep against the window glass on the train the whole way back home and dreams of an ephemeral summer vanishing in a bittersweet festival of fireflies, bell clinking as it crashes on the ground.
When he wakes up, the dream leaves him without the tiniest memory of it, only a strange feeling of heartache and of something missing.
The classmate sitting in front of him is bent over him, a hand on his shoulder, and he sees a worried look on the three faces around him.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Junta blinks in confusion and only realises his lashes and cheeks are wet as he does.
He opens his mouth to say something. To say he is okay. Because he is. So why does his nose sting so much? Why is his throat so tight his voice is locked inside?
“Yeah-”
And tears fill his eyes again like the shore on a high tide and his chest hurts without him ever knowing why.
☆☆☆
Hajime looks up at the pale gray sky, his breath white in the air as the first snowflakes fall.
When is he coming back?
Hajime has been waiting everyday since the starry night. He was there, hidden behind a tree at the edges of the forest when Junta’s bus drove past there and he already started missing him. He is a little impatient, waiting for Teshima to fulfill his promise and come back for him.
Hajime thinks about how strange and unfamiliar all of these new emotions taste like. He thinks about the feelings of waiting and longing for, about the happiness he felt as he brought Teshima to his favourite spot, the both of them sitting next to each other and fingers touching, as he looks forward to Teshima coming back. He thinks about how he had always been lonely, living far from humans and avoiding his peers until he spotted Teshima and the boy reminded him of the stars he can see from that favourite spot of his.
Teshima isn’t exactly like he expected. He isn’t as self confident as he appears to be nor is he dense or insensitive like the humans Hajime had been told about. He is very chatty, that is for sure, and Hajime wonders how he manages to even hold a conversation with him — which is basically holding a conversation with himself. He doesn’t step out of his boundaries, watches out to how comfortable Hajime is around him. He is delicate with others’ feelings, has a lot of friends and Hajime wonders why Teshima even gives him so much attention when he could be spending time with humans who are a lot more interesting and friendly than he is. Regardless, Teshima’s eyes shining brightly under the starry sky and looking into his as he promised to be back felt so genuine that, during that night, they shattered all of his anxious thoughts away in a second.
He is a good human, Hajime decides, and he is glad he fell for Junta .
☆☆☆
Falling in love is a pain. You think about the other part all the time, wondering what they’re doing, if they aren’t cold in the woods, how cute they would look with their face uncovered, if they are still eating three onigiris in the span of two minutes, if-…
Junta falls face down on the bed in a puff and lets out a muffled heavy sigh, his school bag and coat lying somewhere on his floor.
“My life is a wreck.”
He turns his head to the side and looks at the time but focuses on the starry sky lock screen instead then glancing at the mess on his desk. A few more days , he thinks to himself before drifting off.
On New Year, Junta goes to the shrine with a few underclassmen he’s been teaching Mathematics to. The one wearing round glasses bows when he sees Junta, politely wishing him a Happy New Year and Junta pats his head, wishing him the same.
★★★
When he returns into the woods, the scenery went through such metamorphosis Junta almost doesn’t believe he’s back in the same place. Sunlight shines on the surface of the white coat of snow and ice and there isn’t a single red leaf left on the hibernating trees. It’s pretty, but Junta has no idea how to find Aoyagi.
He’s been walking for a while now, maybe a good twenty minutes, but he almost doesn’t recognise anything around him, so much that he’s convinced he got lost. Good job, Teshima Junta.
The air is freezing. Junta wasn’t expecting that much snow. His cheeks and nose are red from the cold and he thinks his toes are starting to feel numb. He sighs and buries his chin inside the collar of his coat and rubs his thumbs against the back of his fingers, desperately sinking deeper in his pockets.
Then, he hears them. Rapid steps and tinkling bell drawing near and he turns around, heart thumping with expectation and hope. And he sees a dark blond furred fox running to him and jumping high. Instinctively, Junta opens his arms to catch the fox when he suddenly changes into his human form midair, arms spread out. Junta eyes widen and he almost squawks in astonishment. Aoyagi falls in Junta’s arms, wrapping his own around the boy’s neck. The both of them swing backwards and fall right into the thick layer of snow.
Junta stares at the bare branches and the bright azure of the sky, breathing white in the air and smelling a faint scent of daisies. Aoyagi then retreats just enough to look at Junta in the eyes, snow on his mask and his nose and in his hair and eyes shining in the shadow of the object. His mask falls down on his nose and suddenly Aoyagi sees nothing and squeaks as he puts it back on his forehead with trouble, making his silky hair a mess. Junta finds him too cute. He is giggling and then cackling and Aoyagi huffs, indignant.
Aoyagi gets up and pats his yukata, tail waving a little. Junta stands up in his turn and does the same — except for the tail thing — and Aoyagi turns to see him.
“Teshima…” he says, voice soft, and Junta notices his voice sounds less hoarse than last time. He wonders if Aoyagi has been practicing talking by himself and the thought tugs on the corners of his lips.
He tilts his head, questioning, and Aoyagi reaches out to pat his hair, getting rid of the snow sitting there.
“Oh. Thanks.”
Aoyagi smiles, as small as the smile he gave him on the starry night. Junta is sure his cheeks were pink from the cold seconds earlier, though now, he thinks they are pink from warmth.
“Oh right! Aoyagi, come here.”
Aoyagi does.
Junta opens his backpack to take out a red, fluffy wool mass he unfolds before carefully wrapping it around Aoyagi’s neck. The fox buries his face in it and touches it from the tips of his fingers.
“Merry late Christmas,” he says, a loving smile on his lips. He looks happy and Junta is glad.
Aoyagi raises his head to look at him.
“Huuuh… Christmas is… A religious holiday in western countries and huh… You know? Like- Places far, far away from here and-…”
“I know.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. And well, people exchange gifts on Christmas.”
“…Christmas…” he repeats, as if to remember about it.
★★★
Aoyagi is nowhere to be seen. Junta has been standing there for almost an hour, chin buried into his clothes and unable to sense his toes and fingers and watching his respiration appear and disappear as he breathes. He takes out his phone and earphones.
Another hour later, he is sitting under the tree, drinking some of the green tea he’s brought with him in a thermos. Thermos are life, bless them. He thanks the one person who’s come up with thermos and made them a reality. His toes don’t exist anymore though.
He waits. He waits more and more and the longer he waits, the worrier he gets. He starts wondering if something didn’t happen to Aoyagi and the thought won’t leave him alone, only get heavier. What if… What if he just disappeared and Junta never sees him again? Suddenly, a heavy feeling of sickness fills his lungs and stomach and everything within him. He bites his lips but doesn’t feel a thing.
By the time he drinks up the last drop of warm tea, it is already sunset. The cold has gotten his feet and hand and articulations and he thinks that he should probably go back before he freezes to death, disappointment and fear clouding his mind.
And it is only then that he hear a faint tinkle of bell and he stands up, eyes shining with expectation, ignoring the cold pain in his legs. Aoyagi runs down the hill, bell sounding in his hair. He is out of breath when he stops in front Junta, dust in his tied hair and all over his yukata.
“Aoyagi! What happened? Are you o-”
“Teshima!” the fox cuts him short and holds his hand out, a small charm in his palm.
Junta takes it carefully in his frozen, red fingers and softly swipes his thumb on it, which so numb he almost doesn’t feel like touching anything.
He waits for Aoyagi’s breathing to steady down and flinches when the spirit abruptly straightens up. There is dust on his mask and gray clinging to his ears and Junta has to keep himself from reaching out and getting all the dirt off.
“It’s…” Aoyagi hesitates, testing out his voice and the words on his tongue before adding “A good luck charm. For your exams.” He hesitates some more, fingers on the red string holding his mask before he speaks again, voice so low Junta almost misses it. “M-Merry Christmas…”
Junta’s numb fingers tighten around the small, filled pocket, and falls back into his previous position, forehead close to his knees and pressed against his knuckles. He laughs. Small, punctual, almost just a sigh.
“ Teshima…? ”
“I-… I thought something had happened to you I-… I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, a little breathless and laughs again. “Thanks, Aoyagi.”
☆☆☆
On the next day, they snowfight. Teshima was running after him, finding him behind the trees as usual when Hajime suddenly got a better idea and threw snow at the boy who makes a screeching noise before turning around and throwing a loose handful of snow back. The snow crashes right in the middle of Hajime’s mask and he shakes his head to get rid of it. War ensues.
When night falls, Teshima tells him he has to go back but doesn’t let go of Hajime’s hand. He doesn’t mind. Teshima’s hand feels nice in his.
“School starts in two days and I have two prints left to do. And then you know about it, the exams and stuff… So yeah. I’ll have to go back home tomorrow.”
Teshima’s grip tightens around Hajime’s fingers.
“Thanks again for the good luck charm by the way. I feel like I can do anything with it.”
Teshima bites his lips and Hajime wants to ask about his concerns. He wants to tell him to stop biting his lips or he’ll hurt himself. But all Hajime accomplishes is a frown Teshima can’t see and a small noise of concern in his throat.
Teshima raises his head to look at him — his mask — and gives him a little apologetic smile. Hajime’s expression softens under the fox face and he smiles back. He loves it when Teshima doesn’t need Hajime’s words to understand him. It’s a strange, new emotion to him, and it makes him feel comfortable around the human boy.
“Aoyagi I-… I will come back. Definitely! Please wait for me, Aoyagi. It’s probably going to be long. I mean, eight months is a long wait… But I- I will definitely come back to see you. I promise you. So until then please…wait for me.”
☆☆☆
Again, on the way back home, Junta dreams. He dreams of fireflies dancing in the chiaroscuro of the starry night. And again, he hears the bell ring once, too loud against the humid ground.
Junta slowly opens his eyes to the too bright daylight and the forgotten summer dream that leaves his cheeks wet.
☆☆☆
Teshima and Aoyagi miss each other terribly.
On the nights Teshima is preparing himself for his exams, his hair tied into a ponytail or a messy bun and a big hairclip to keep his bangs from falling into his eyes, the good luck charm lies quietly on his desk. Sometimes, he would look at it and smile, filled with brand new motivation again.
Aoyagi holds onto his scarf dearly. He wonders how Teshima’s exams are going. He told him it was important. He believes in Teshima, he knows it is going to be fine. He misses him, but he is going to see him again soon. Eight months is like a split second to him. To youkais, time is insignificant. Even a human’s lifespan ends in the blink of an eye. And suddenly, Aoyagi realises Teshima will have to leave someday, in what feels like near future to him, and his heart feels so tight it hurts. He presses his face against the wool that smells like Teshima.
On February 14th, most boys in the school are excessively high tensioned. And to be completely honest, Teshima had been hoping for chocolates from girls every year even though he doesn’t particularly likes sweets. Though, everything he’s ever gotten was obligatory chocolates.
This year, he gets the same: only obligatory chocolates from two of his classmates. He doesn’t mind though. He actually wasn’t waiting for any, this year. He had even forgotten about it until one of his friends reminded him.
This year, he has Aoyagi.
He wonders if he will have Aoyagi next year too. He wonders if he tells about it to Aoyagi, the fox will give him sweets next winter. He wonders if Aoyagi likes sweets so then, a little before spring, he can give him some back.
Every day and night, Teshima holds onto the good luck charm tight and looks forward to summer.
He lies on his bed, fiddling with his phone at ten in the night, then peeks at the calendar hanging on the wall, above his desk. He sighs heavily as he lets his head fall back into his pillow. “ It’s still only February huh… ”
On the first day of his exams, Teshima keeps the charm close to him. When he is confronted to a particularly difficult question, he thinks, face neutral, and pencil resting against his lips. His other hand fiddles with the charm.
Aoyagi asks the forest. The forest tells him only a little more than a month has passed. Aoyagi purses his lips in frustration. Time isn’t supposed to go so slowly. At night, he falls asleep with three quarters of his face buried into the wool cloth, tail tapping nervous and impatient onto the snow carpet.
In March, Aoyagi climbs up the mountains to hand over the narcissist Go- he means, the Mountain God some sake as an offering. Just thinking about it gives him headaches. Every single year has been an exhausting experience to go through and this year will very likely be the same. He sighs.
Up there, the Mountain God tells him to beware, that one only realises the weight of pain after losing something important. He tells him that not only humans are ephemeral. Aoyagi doesn’t say anything back, only puts his mask back on before walking down. He plays with the end of his scarf, missing Teshima again and trying not to. After all, he tells himself, it is only March yet.
Teshima enters in his final year in April. He meets his classmates again after two weeks and talks about his trip with his mother. He doesn’t talk about how much he misses the woods and secretly thinks about how pretty Aoyagi would look under the petals of cherry blossoms. He caresses the good luck charm in his hoodie’s pocket, counting the long number of days before summer.
Aoyagi sneezes awake, petals flying off his head and clothes in all directions, some still clinging to his tail. He sniffles and taps his tail irritably in the layers of fallen flowers. He hides his face into the slightly dirtied scarf and inhales. The scarf still smells faintly like Teshima and Aoyagi gets more restless everyday. He curses summer for being so slow at replacing spring. And then, a thought goes through his mind. What if Teshima didn’t come back? What if something happened and he didn’t know? Will summer ever even come? What if he ends up waiting forever and summer never comes for him — for them…?
That night, Aoyagi cries and the forest’s whispers of comfort are futile.
In June, it rains. Teshima lifts his head from the Mathematics books to look at the sky that stayed gray everyday, raindrops he can barely hear through his earphones crashing at a regular pace against the library’s window glasses. He sees the reflection of his face and blinks, focussing on a strand of hair that isn’t interesting in any way. He wonders how Aoyagi is doing, if he is still waiting for him. He squeezes the charm in his hand. He is scared of finding no one when he goes back there after so long. What if Aoyagi wasn’t waiting for him anymore? If something happens and he can’t wait for him anymore? What if… summer never comes?
That afternoon, Teshima leaves the library earlier and stays on his bed until night falls, absentmindedly watching the raindrops pearl down the window glass. He listens to a new CD he has borrowed from a friend but none of the album’s songs sink in. And if he notices the playlist reaches its end, he doesn’t bother changing it or playing it back. Just like this, he falls asleep thinking about Aoyagi.
It rains a lot and the air is a little heavy, too warm and humid to feel nice. Aoyagi sits back a little more under the shrine’s old wood roof. The spring flowers are gone, replaced by fresh smelling leaves. The forest is green and red and yellow and purple and it is very pretty but Aoyagi doesn’t like the rainy season very much. He thinks of Teshima’s hair. About how Teshima told him he didn’t like rain because his hair would get curly and be ‘a pain’. When will August ever arrive? He hugs the dirtied red wool, pressing it close to his chest.
Summer is close, and the both of them have been missing each other terribly .
☆☆☆
“You really have taken a like to that place don’t you, Junta,” Junta’s mother starts, smiling softly.
“Kind of, yeah.”
“I’m glad you have found somewhere you like to go that much but please be careful, alright?”
“I know, you’ve told me millions of times mom! I will,” he smiles back at her, grateful for her letting him go back there.
“Good.”
He brings the bowl to his lips.
“Don’t forget to introduce them to me, lovebird.”
He chokes on his soup.
★★★
When Junta steps out of the bus, all he can hear are the locusts singing, sun burning bright. He breathes in the warm summer air, already grinning impatiently, a drop of sweat rolling down his slightly tanned cheek.
“I’m back,” he whispers to himself.
Junta walks into the woods, ground making little cracking noises under his soles and he feels a bit of nostalgia. As he goes, spots of sunlight piercing through the plants slide on him, sometimes making his blue eyes glint for an instant.
And when the forest sighs, drawing a faint scent of daisies to him, he steps to turn to his side, heart hammering in his chest.
He catches a glimpse of the mask that instantly disappear behind the tree and Junta runs up there to see that nobody is there. And the bell tinkles a little farther away and he catches up. They play the tag game together again for the first time in so long and Junta is grinning wide, eyes glowing with euphoria. Aoyagi is probably smiling under his mask too.
When Junta sees Aoyagi enough to notice he is still wearing the scarf under 30°C, he laughs, asking him if it isn’t too warm to wear a scarf. Aoyagi ignores him and turns to disappear again. Junta hears “ No, I like wearing it. ” instead. Butterflies tickle his stomach.
Junta chases after Aoyagi until nightfall.
They sit next to each other under a tree and Junta fiddles with a fallen leaf, talking about the last few months. At some point, Aoyagi puts his mask on his forehead and when Junta turns to look at him, he can see a bit of the fox’s neutral expression and smiles at him.
★★★
On the next day, Aoyagi stills behind a tree and Junta almost bumps into him literally.
“Aoyagi?”
Ears low, Aoyagi purses his lips just a little, so lightly that, if Junta didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Aoyagi stayed expressionless. Then, he takes a small breath in and Junta’s eyes widen a little.
“…Junta,” he tests, fingers playing with the red string of his mask.
“Huh?”
“I…want to call you ‘Junta’,” he says, quietly. “Because it’s a pretty name…” and his voice trails off a little.
“Oh,” is all Junta manages to respond. And “…Oh,” he repeats. “Um… Sure!” His voice cracks and he internally curses himself. He clears his throat before continuing. “Sure, I mean, if you want. I’m… I’m totally cool with it.”
Aoyagi doesn’t smile, but he looks happy, cheeks just slightly pink. Junta blames him for the heat he feels in his cheeks and the tickling butterflies that went up his chest and throat.
“Junta,” he repeats, and this time, he smiles softly. It is contagious.
They spend the rest of the day walking in the woods and eating rice balls. Junta talks about trivial things again and Aoyagi listens to him, sometimes cutting him with a small noise and Junta would know exactly.
Later, they sit under a tree again, close to each other and listen to Junta’s favourite songs, sharing his earphones.
“This one is from the newest album of that group I mentioned earlier. The song is really nice and catchier so I’ve been listening to it more than the other ones from the same album.”
At some point, he starts singing and Aoyagi closes his eyes, enjoying the sound of Junta’s voice. There is warmth blooming in Junta’s chest, and sweet, settling warmth between them.
☆☆☆
When Junta takes the console out of his backpack and hands it out to him, Hajime looks at him with a straight face he knows Junta accurately interprets as confusion.
“It’s a 3DS. I thought we could play together.”
Junta sits down against the trunk of a tree and invites him to do the same, which Hajime does, and he turns the game console on. Hajime looks over to the screens, prickling curiosity making him impatiently swipe his tail on the ground.
“Look, I’ll teach you how to play.”
A few hours later, Hajime is so into the game he only realises Junta fell asleep when the boy’s head falls on his shoulder, dark, wavy hair soft against his cheek and in the crook of his neck. He glances at the boy and puts the 3DS down on his thighs before lifting his hand to touch his hair. Junta said he didn’t like his own hair, that he wished he had Hajime’s hair instead, but the fox thinks he likes Junta’s black waves a lot. When he runs his fingers through the boy’s strands, Junta sighs in his slumber and relaxes onto Hajime’s shoulder.
Hajime feels giddy happiness tugging at the corners of his lips.
After a little while, Hajime falls asleep in his turn, head resting against Junta’s.
When they wake up, the console won’t light up and Hajime panics. Junta is almost cackling, reassuring him it is only out of battery.
☆☆☆
It starts raining and they sit under a huge tree to avoid getting drenched, fingers intertwined, and Junta’s thumb draws circles on the back of Aoyagi’s hand. His other hand plays nervously with his curling hair.
Junta looks up to the sky, half pouting at the bad weather.
“Junta.”
“Hm?” Junta glances at Aoyagi before looking back to the dusty sky.
“Let’s play shiritori.”
“Shiritori? Well, it’s not a bad way to kill time but…”
“I want to play shiritori,” Aoyagi says, more firmly and Junta chuckles.
“Alright, alright, let’s play then. I’ll start. Shiritori,” he opens the game, still half giggling.
“Ringo.” [Apple]
“Go… Go… Goukaku!” [To pass (an exam for example)]
“Ku… sa.” [Grass]
“Saka.” [Hill]
“Ka…” the fox thinks for a moment. “Kaban… Ah- wait…! Karasu!” he changes fast before losing, panicking a little and Junta laughs again. [Bag, crow]
Junta takes a short breath in, ready to say something but stops himself. Aoyagi stares at him and he can see a curious tilt of head.
The boy grips Aoyagi’s hand just a little stronger, then closes his eyes as he brings his forehead to the fox’s, resting against him. For the first time, Junta can see Aoyagi’s pretty, golden eyes clearly thanks to the closeness. He takes the time to feel his own rapid pulse in his thumb pressed against Aoyagi’s hand, wondering if the fox can sense it too.
And he slowly opens his eyelids as he whispers “Suki” to Aoyagi. [I like you]
Then, suddenly, Junta grabs the fox’s mask and pulls it down on his face. The bell tinkles. Aoyagi yelps in surprise and moves to remove it. However, Junta prevents him from doing so by pressing a hand on his forehead.
And there, Junta leans in, lips leaving a feather light touch on the red line of the mask.
“See you tomorrow,” he says, voice soft and not above a whisper before getting up and walking back towards the edges of the woods.
★★★
A little more than a week has gone by since Junta came back into the woods and Aoyagi’s joy in spending time with Junta has changed into distracted blank stares on the side. As if his mind sometimes went somewhere else, or if someone or something is talking to him. Only, though, Aoyagi would grip Junta’s fingers stronger, and Junta would look up to his face and see his eyes distant, always looking like he is crying. Junta’s chest tightens and it hurts.
“Ao-” he starts but can’t finish, his throat tied into an uneasy knot.
What would he say anyway, if Aoyagi turned to look at him and silently question him? Would he say he is concerned? Ask if anything is wrong? And what would Aoyagi respond to that? What would he do if it is something he can’t help with anyway…?
He is a human, and Aoyagi is a spirit. And no matter how close they feel to each other, they are like sky and earth, separate by the laws of life, by time and by life itself. And yet, they are drawn to each other like the two sides of magnets, fated for the other, so much that it feels like one of them was born in the wrong place.
They don’t play the tag game nor do they play hide and seek anymore and Aoyagi would always stick close to him, clutching at his hands or at his clothes. Getting him at the entrance of the forest and seeing him off.
That day, under the glittering sunrays slipping through the colourful leaves, Junta doesn’t ask, only holds Aoyagi’s hand firmer.
★★★
They go to the summer festival up the mountains together one evening, kitsune mask covering Aoyagi’s face and a paper with a simple 「星」 [ hoshi = star] hiding most of Junta’s face.
“Stay close to me, Junta,” Aoyagi orders firmly and Junta complies, understanding the silent warnings given by the fox.
The festival looks like any humans’. Red and yellow lanterns light up the long street bordered by series of colourfully decorated stalls save for the strange atmosphere giving Junta the feeling like he is walking through a dream, in the middle of spirits and ghosts impersonating humans in joyful laughters. And when he looks closer at one of the food stalls, he squeaks and jumps back at the literally medamayakis and the owner of the stall wheezes in laughter, saying he has never seen anyone get startled by grilled eyeballs.
“Junta, do you want to try some? ” Aoyagi asks, calling Junta’s name loud enough to get heard by the boy over the chatter and shoutings and singing and laughters, the percussions and plucked strings and flutes cheerfully performing together.
“Ehh… No thanks,” he declines, feeling his stomach get sick just at the idea.
Aoyagi though, still buys a box of it and manages to finish everything in the span of not even five minutes. Junta stubbornly thinks rice balls are definitely better.
They watch the parade of the Mountain God, the majestic peacock as flamboyant as the festival itself if not more. He laughs loudly as he turns his face in all directions with pride as if to let every single one of them get blessed with a glimpse of his unequaled beauty. When the God — ‘Toudou-sama’, he learned from the cheers around him — passes before them, Aoyagi lowers his head, hiding his mask as much as he can.
“Aoyagi?”
“ Don’t look at him. ”
“What? Why?”
“ He’s obnoxious. ”
That evening, neither of them has been thinking about any of their insecurities as they walk, hands linked, along the effervescent festival street. Only enjoying the summer festival together.
But as they reach the end of the street, as their surrounding gets darker and quieter and fireflies replace the many lanterns now far behind them, Aoyagi stops, pulling on Junta’s hand which cuts him in his monologue.
“…Aoya-”
He doesn’t have the time to finish before Aoyagi pulls him into a tight embrace, and for a second, Junta doesn’t remember to breathe, heart beating louder than the fireworks. But the moment before he closes his arms around Aoyagi, he feels like something is wrong. He holds the spirit close to him, as reassuringly as he can, even as anxiety starts spreading in his guts.
“Aoyagi…? Is there something wrong?”
He never gets an answer in the following days, and leaves the forest with Aoyagi staying put at the entrance of it.
★★★
Junta opens his eyes abruptly in a gasp, and what he sees is the blurry dark ceiling of the inn as tears pour out of his eyes. He closes them back and tears roll down his temples. He sits up slowly, sniffling a little and wipes them away with his left arm.
The sun isn’t up yet when Junta’s feet step noisily on leaves and branches on the ground. By now, he practically can walk through the woods even with his eyes shut, so he goes, without hesitation, forward.
“Aoyagi!” he tries.
And when he gets no response, he calls his name again, and again. Panic starts growing in the pit of his stomach and tears almost begin falling again when a strong wind blows from behind and he hears the sound of the bell.
“…Junta? What happened? Why are you here? ”
He walks up to Aoyagi and looks at him in the eye, the other hidden behind the mask and blonde hair. He sees confusion and concern. Of course he would be confused and concerned, Junta is here, at three in the morning, calling for him like the world is going to crumble under their feet and they won’t meet aga-
“You’re going to disappear,” he says bluntly releasing the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “…Aren’t you?”
Aoyagi says nothing. Still, Junta can see his look quiver and his head lower a little. And something rips apart in Junta’s chest when Aoyagi bites his lips, looking away.
They stay silent, squeezing each other’s hand, sitting close until dawn, and Junta falls asleep against Aoyagi.
☆☆☆
Everyday after that night, Junta talks. Junta has always talked a lot. But since then, he has been talking and talking, never letting a blank slip into the conversation. He talks about his childhood, talks about his classmates, repeats things he had already told Hajime before, he talks and talks until his voice becomes hoarse. And Hajime purses his lips, thinking that Junta’s throat probably hurts.
Hajime cuts Junta in the middle of him telling something that’s happened to him in middle school. He tells him to stop. And all he gets in return is a chuckle the both of them know is fake followed by “Stop what?”.
Hajime knows. He knows that Junta is trying to distract himself from the thought of Hajime disappearing, of Hajime having to go, from the thought of not having any new season with him again, and Hajime feels just as sad. Just as frustrated. Just as angry at nature or any god or entity giving them birth into two worlds that can never fully connect.
When he doesn’t have anything to say anymore, Junta sings. He sings until his voice cracks.
☆☆☆
It storms. The roaring afternoon sky looks so gray and dark it feels like a rainy evening, heavy drops falling fast from above. And there, under the same old tree as last time, behind a curtain of water, Aoyagi cries, clutching at Teshima’s shirt.
His mask falls off his head in the muddy water on the ground but he doesn’t care, and if the bell rang, they don’t hear it over the pouring rain.
Tears flow down Aoyagi’s cheeks as he sobs and cries and clings to Teshima tight, occasionally calling his name with sad whimpers.
“Junta… J-Junta I don’t want to di-… to d-disappear…”
Teshima hugs him tighter, patting his head and behind his ears, where he knows it relaxes Aoyagi, endlessly repeating the same pattern and whispering the same reassuring words he hopes will go through.
“Jun-… Junta…”
“It’s alright, Hajime. It’s alright. I’m here. You’re here. No matter what happens, I love you and I will love you forever. I love you, Hajime.”
The sky flashes white before roaring again.
“I want to be human, Junta… I-” he hiccups, “I w-wished I was human…” He cries harder, louder, so much that his throat hurts and both of them think Aoyagi has never screamed this much before today. And though he doesn’t say what follows, sobbing heavily, Teshima hears it so clearly he breaks in tears in his turn.
“ I want to be human, so I can be with Junta forever… ”
☆☆☆
They watch the stars together in the middle of fireflies flitting around them, sitting close and fingers intertwined. Junta draws soft circles on the back of Hajime’s thumb as he hums, content, and he feels the fox relax under the gentle touch.
Stars cover the sky like silk and layers of glitter dusting across the night, giving to it such life and effervescence and yet staying so leisurely quiet. Fireflies dance, scattered in the dark, flying and floating everywhere like they are little stars that came down from above. The sky looks even clearer than in fall and the air smells fresh after last day’s storm.
Hajime’s mask isn’t covering his face anymore, the object dirtied by the mud of yesterday’s rain, worn on the very side of his head instead. He moves it to the back as he turns to look at Junta who turns to his side at the same moment.
For the first time and probably the last, Junta realises he can clearly see Hajime’s face, the golden bangs pushed behind his ear. It’s been a while since he’s noticed, but the end of Hajime’s hair is dry and a little brittle, and he would have helped cutting it if he knew how to give a haircut. Junta reaches out, thumb stroking Hajime’s cheekbone in a light touch, under the red makeup bordering his eyelids and Hajime closes his eye a little. He brushes the blonde hair aside, carving Hajime’s face into his memories, and discovers a very faint mole on his jawline as he does. He grazes it from the tips of his fingers. And when he looks back into Hajime’s eyes, he can see the reflection of the millions of stars glowing above them.
“There are stars in your eyes,” he says so softly it is almost a whisper.
“Because I’m looking at you,” Hajime replies bluntly and face neutral.
Junta’s eyes widen and boiling blood creeps into his nape and cheeks and ears. It is so cheesy he would’ve usually died laughing but for some reason, he doesn’t.
He looks away as much as he can, having nowhere to run.
“That-…sounded like some bad pickup line…”
Hajime smiles.
“…Are you making fun of me?”
“No,” he says back, voice shaking just a little.
“You’re making fun of me.”
“…No,” he repeats, this time having to bite down his grin without success. He laughs.
“I hate you.”
Junta pouts as he reaches out again but stops when Hajime speaks again.
“But it’s true, Junta. You are like a shining star.”
Junta bites his lips, having no word in return, and he takes a breath in, but still doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he moves closer, and their foreheads touch. Junta can hear Hajime’s breathing and he can feel it tickle his face.
“Hajime… I-… I’m scared.”
“ Me too, Junta. ”
Hajime holds Junta’s hand tighter and Junta squeezes back. And when he reaches out again, his fingers brush pass the bell in Hajime’s hair, and it tinkles. He caresses softly, carefully behind the spirit’s ear and Hajime exhales softly.
The next second, their lips are touching though neither of them knows who leaned in first. Fireflies dance around them like stars floating close to earth and Hajime presses closer as he slips his left arm around the boy’s shoulder. Junta kisses him back, lips moving against Hajime’s, and he feels fingers tangle at his hair then desperately clutch at his nape, his own free hand brushing through the blonde strands and holding Hajime close.
When they move away to breathe, neither is surprised to see Hajime’s body glow with light. Neither of them cries, as much as they want to, feeling tears well up in their eyes. They keep their forehead pressed firmly together, tighten their fingers around each other’s, smiling as they look into each other’s eyes and Aoyagi inhales deeply-
“Junta, I love y…”
The body pressed close to his disappears in an instant, bursting in thousands of fireflies, and Junta shuts his eyes. The white and red mask falls and cracks against the ground, bell ringing too loud, too high, as it crashes on the dirt. The scarf and yukata follow, silently falling flat before Junta.
There is no sad song, no dramatic camera effect, nothing but the fireflies and Junta, head low and alone under the starry sky.
The summer they both have been waiting forever ends too early, leaving a bittersweet taste under Junta’s tongue.
★★★
Teshima Junta never falls in love again. Not that he is scared of falling in love or that he is still mourning over the pain of losing the one he loves after years. Simply, he doesn’t want to forget about Aoyagi yet. Surely, the world has seemed gray ever since the premature end of that summer, like the long dream that was too short took the colours away from him alongside Aoyagi, the bitter taste never leaving the back of his tongue. And no matter how much time goes by, he will keep his promise and love Aoyagi for as long as his time allows him.
That is why, even after he graduates from high school and gets into College, he never gets a partner nor does he attend to the parties his friends organise to get girlfriends, telling them evasively that he is already taken. Of course, he gets teased for that and gets skeptical looks, though he is okay with it. This is a secret only he and Aoyagi really know about, and Junta touches tenderly the old charm in his pocket that has gone a little faded and black on its corners.
“Do you have anymore classes today? If not, then wanna hang out?”
“Sure! I think I have only two hours on tomorrow too. In the morning though…”
That day, on the first day of his school trip, he saw a beautiful person in the woods. Actually, he wasn’t even sure of what he saw, sure of if they actually existed. It happened in an instant. So fast that it could’ve been a daydream or an illusion. But he was breathtaking .
“Should I invite Koga too?”
“Hm…”
“Wow. Rude.”
“I’m joking, yeah let’s invite him too. Since we aren’t in the same department, it’s been a while since I even got to see his face.”
He was a lot cuter than Junta expected him to be at first. Silent and lonesome, though strong willed and a little stubborn, complexed by his height and eating a lot, making a cute frown when he’s angry or confused, having a habit of touching the string of his mask whenever he’s embarrassed or troubled, swaying a little on his right foot and looking at the sky as he waits, chin buried into the dirtied red scarf he doesn’t want to get separated from for even a second…
“Alright then, I’ll send him a message!”
Yes. Exactly like that person standing in front of the fountain Junta can see through his glasses as he raises his head, except the one standing there doesn’t have his hair as long, and there isn’t any fox ear or sweeping tail, nor red makeup around his eyes.
“…Aoyagi…?”
Junta freezes, still. He doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, doesn’t even breathe, fearing it’s a dream, scared he would disappear again if Junta closes his eyes for even half a second.
“Teshima?”
The person notices him and stares back at him, expression neutral but a firm glim in the eyes. People come and go, walking at different paces and some of them passing between them. Then, he sees the man take a breath in and…
“JUNTA!”
He gasps. Aoyagi runs towards him, shoes tapping against the stone ground, making his way through the crowd. Junta’s heart starts to race then beating so hard he can’t hear the noise of the city anymore.
“Aoyagi… Aoyagi!”
He takes a step forward, then another, and before he realises, he is running ahead too, arms wide open when he stops short to catch Aoyagi midair as the boy leaps into his arms, closing his own around Junta’s neck, like during that winter. Except, this time, there is no surprise attack, no transformation, no snow, and Junta catches him, steady. They hold each other like there is no tomorrow. Junta sees steam on his glasses, his vision blurry and he swallows hard, throat tied into a knot, leaning into the soft touch in his hair.
That day, on the first day of March, Junta held a beautiful man in his arms. He was there, true and human, not just a sad summer dream that started in fall and ended too early.
Aoyagi Hajime is here, real and alive.
☆☆☆
That day, on the twenty fourth day of February, Aoyagi Hajime’s wish has been granted.