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There’s a lighthouse standing by the hills overlooking the open sea, where the waves crash against the high stones. The house was unreachable no matter how hard the moon waved the tides.
The lighthouse was said to be owned by the man who owned the lands of the small village. Who he was and where he was, nobody knew. No one had seen the man before.
However, the lighthouse never fails to emit its light from the high tower, circling over the lands and sea. No one knew what they were for. Perhaps the man within the lighthouse was insane, those were the rumours in the little town with a small population of five hundred.
Kouki having to be born and live in the little town had a hard time believing the words of the townsfolk.
Every night, Kouki had strolled out from his house, to the grounded pathways and at a far distance where the lighthouse stood atop the higher hills. The light circled from its tower.
From there, Kouki saw the silhouette of the man. Standing still, overlooking the open sea where the full moon was at its brightest. Kouki too looked up amongst the dust of stars surrounding the moon as he listened to the sound of the ocean waves, rolling in and out.
Kouki smiled and hoped that the light had reached to whomever it was meant for.
Traveling through the path of the forest, the sun had just started to set and Kouki had come from his favourite quiet place where no one had a reason to visit. He saw a man, he was of his height and age. His hair was dark shades of red, might have been brighter under the sunlight.
Kouki had never seen this man before, however from the outlines of him, Kouki recognised him as a silhouette.
Their eyes remained on one another and unmoving. Neither had a change of expression.
“Hey.” Kouki was the first to breathe out.
“Hi.” The man responded. His voice was unheard of, but Kouki found a quick liking to the sound of him.
The sun had quickly gone down, their shadows spread and merged. “Isn’t it time to light the tower?” Kouki asked.
“Yes.” The man responded.
Kouki smiled. “Can I see it?”
The man had an expression. His head tilted slightly, his eyes studying Kouki.
Kouki had never ventured close to the hill going up to the lighthouse. The higher he got, the colder it was, the wind was not harsh however. They were just like the way the wildflowers of the meadow kissed his skin when he laid down on them.
Up and up the twirling staircase. The night had fallen.
Standing on the highest tower, Kouki looked at the open view of the ocean that stretched all the way to the horizon, his sight marveling at the beautiful twilight.
The beacon greeted the night with its light, beaming long and wide, circling round and round.
Kouki then saw him clearly.
The man had hair and eyes to match, they shone like the red carnations. It took Kouki’s breath away.
Kouki smiled at him, unknowingly.
The other smiled, his eyes forming a crescent moon.
Seijuurou, that was the man’s name.
Kouki had seen the man every night after that, up in his tower where they would talk and talk for long, long hours. They would smile and laugh, and listen when one had sorrows to speak. Smile would form again as their words caressed them, cradling the tears within their open palms and there, in the little town the two had found their solitude.
The little town had never known grief the way Kouki did. The way Seijuurou did.
They had never known the longing of one’s love and the cry of one’s heartache. The loss one had of the love that he had ever known was from his mother.
The little town never saw Seijuurou the way Kouki did. They had never seen him at all.
From the long nights, they had started to meet on the day where the sun was up high, when Spring fed the meadows with wildflowers, where bushes filled with berries and sprouts of flowers.
“Stay with me.” Seijuurou said one night after their lips parted, ghosting against the plumps of their wet lips.
Kouki said nothing, for he had sealed Seijuurou with his mouth, knotting a silent promise with their tongues.
In their hands, they found the light within each other. Seijuurou mourned no more after that.
The little town had seen Kouki no more, nor had they seen the light beaming from the high tower.
Not until thirty years later.
The little town mourned for something they did not know.
The light beamed for another two years before it stopped again, perhaps forever.