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“ Happy birthday, Touya.”
Touya smiled in reply. He handed his brother a piece of cake on a paper plate, and the chopsticks left to give, he returned to the table. Natsuo followed from behind.
“What did you wish for?” Natsuo asked. From the side glance that Touya gave, Natsuo expected his answer, but only received the thin plastic utensils in his hands. He pouted. It was forever too long since they had a normal conversation. Well, he was going to try again. Which brought no success.
And again when he finished his piece of strawberry cream dessert. He headed to the patio, rushing past Fuyumi sitting at the dining table, and his father, silently eating with preoccupation towards his thoughts as told by the furrowed brows and narrowed eyes focused on his hands.
Enji said nothing by his absence, and even if he did Natsuo would’ve ignored him anyway.
When finding Touya out in the cold shivering night of the winter, the young brother halted. Silently seeking the attention of Touya, Natsuo faced him without a word. But it felt like he was the misty air that escaped from Touya’s mouth. There was no regard for a reaction; there was nothing that seemed out of the usual for Touya, who stood very still with a faraway look painted in his eyes. Covered by the shadows like a soft blanket offered by the stream of quietness, he who did not shiver; he who was out of the livid reality of anything, really.
So Natsuo proposed that while his brother would not talk if given a question, especially the one he was already told of, he could use some company. He grabbed his hand, and together flopped onto the steps of the patio. Touya did not respond. Natsuo knew, however, that he had some knowledge of what was happening.
Natsuo spoke, like a whisper almost, to keep the cold night still and at peace. “It’s really cold out here.”
Touya gave a small nod.
“If it were my birthday, I would’ve liked to go see mom. But, I doubt I could get away with it.”
Bracing for the quick remark that Touya usually said whenever they talked about their mother, always a ‘ She would’ve loved to be here’ as they went on trips around the small festivals on the cool nights of summer, or ‘ She would’ve said no’ whenever Natsuo wanted to sneak away from their father’s gaze and into the hospital she was in, Natsuo waited.
It started to drizzle in soft specks of snow. It covered the tips of their hair.
Eventually, much later than Natsuo would have liked, Touya turned to face him. His eyes still glazed, ( Natsuo didn’t mind as long as he was finally going to hold a conversation with him), he asked, “ You want to know what I wished for?”
Natsuo replied with a yes, and Touya went back to looking out at the garden.
“ I wished… when the candles had blown out, actually, I made my wish. So I don’t know if it will come true. But — I think its stupid, Natsuo.”
The young brother waited for the continuation, but there was none.
He offered to say, “ I think it will still come true” but something about that bothered him. He got an idea that made a better solution than anything he said in response.
He got up, and headed back into the house. From the solitude of noise that was his own footsteps and not another pair joining its rhythm, he knew Touya would wait for him. But he felt a bit disappointed that this was the case.
When he returned, he held a small candle in his hand. Swirls of purple covered the tiny thing, clasped in Natsuo’s hand that tapped the shoulder of his older brother. Touya focused on him once more, with the moonlight making it easier to see the small smile laid on Natsuo’s face.
He grabbed the candle, as it was now on an open hand for him to reach. He sparked a blue flame on the wick. With the rush of snow still pelting the steps of the porch, it was hard to keep the wavering flame lit. But Natsuo covered his hands around the candle, and made it easier to see the light blue hues against the dark navy color of the sky.
“ Make a wish Touya,” he said. “ And if you don’t mind, can I listen to it?”
Touya looked at the candle held between his two bruised fingers, scarred deep into his skin. “ But then it won’t come true.”
The boy in front of him, shivering slightly as the flame gave no warmth as strong as its tiny light, said to this, “ I’ll make sure it will.”
Perhaps Natsuo knew. When the boy gave no answer to his questions, and didn’t say a word at all yesterday at the wake, he knew what the wish would be. And knew, then, what he promised wouldn’t be half-hearted, rushed; knowing he couldn’t take back. He knew. He just needed his brother to say the words aloud.
Maybe then the tears would flow down their cheeks.
Maybe then they would finally mark their journey towards saying their goodbyes.
The flicker of the fire glowed. Touya whispered softly into it, “ I wish I could bring him back.”
A snowflake drifted into the flame. It snuffed the blue fire out.