Work Text:
Hey now, hey now
Don't dream it's over
Hey now, hey now
When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us
We know they won't win
Summer.
Summer has always been special to Eiji, ever since he was young. Of course, summer is something special to everyone growing up, because it is a season of play and no work, a time when you are given permission to be as childish as possible, a place where your obligations vanish. There was no school, no chores, no family tension; only chewed popsicle sticks, faces covered in watermelon, and grass-stained knees and shirts. Peace and tranquillity with the background music of buzzing cicadas and hummingbird songs.
For Eiji, summer reminded him of his Uncle and Aunt’s farm in the Okayama prefecture; a four-hour train ride for two weeks of vacation bliss. His family of four would travel the distance to the large-property flower farm completed with a sunflower field, an apiary for their homemade honey, a running creek full of croaking frogs and koi fish, blackberry bushes you can hide in, and herb gardens around every corner. Eiji did not mind being away from his home and friends for so long, because he spent his days biking on dirt paths and chasing blue herons in a different town with the other kids that lived near the farm. Soon enough, he had a baby sister and cousin to watch over crib sides, and then they were following him to the rushing creek accompanied with parental warnings not to lose the children. Eiji was the oldest, which meant Eiji was the babysitter. He did not mind, especially when his uncle would slip him some money for taking care of the girls while the adults drank and sunbathed.
Then, when Eiji left Japan for America, summer’s connotations changed. Dirt paths turned into long paved roads and “Oh my darling, Clementine” in the back of a (stolen?) truck. The rural farm turned into a beach town on the Atlantic Ocean, known for the western movie “ Jaws” and evil baseball coaches. 4 young boys on bikes turned into three teenagers with different hair and eyes sleeping on the floor. Splashing in the pond turned into learning how to shoot a gun and bittersweet memories of a lost childhood.
Most importantly, summer for Eiji had changed to blonde hair, jade coloured eyes, pale skin, drawn-out smirks, and denim jackets.
So, yeah, summer was pretty special to Eiji, and yeah, he had two different types of summers stored up top, memories triggered by smell and taste and sound. For a while, Eiji thought those two summers would never clash. He was allowed one or the other, not both because Eiji was not that lucky. He had to choose between high stakes and America with his favourite person, or tranquil Okayama all alone.
Or so he thought.
For once- for the first time since the accident, when his pole vaulting dreams were smushed like a mosquito between clammy palms, or more accurately since he first met a certain blond- the Seven Gods of Fortune seemed to be on Eiji Okumura’s side, because it seemed those two summers would finally meet in the middle; magnetic lips on a lazy night.
Eiji looked away from the train window (he would be able to look all he wanted, the ride was hours long, after all) at the boy’s head against his shoulder, blond eyelashes brushing over pale cheeks that were soon to be stained red. He wasn’t sleeping, Eiji knew, because Ash would never sleep in a public place like a train, no matter how safe, but there was no tension in his shoulders. He trusted Eiji to keep watch as he rested his eyes, without a gun or a knife (excluding the one knife deep in Ash’s bag) near them for protection. Now that they were in Japan, they were finally safe. Safe enough that even someone as paranoid as Ash Lynx- scrap that, he no longer goes by that name- Ash Callenreese can relax against Eiji without any walls raised. His arms may have been crossed across his chest in a way that seems standoffish, but it reminded Eiji more of when Max Lobo would fall asleep in a chair- slight frown, pouted lips, near-snoring at how heavy his breaths are. Or maybe like the father characters in the western tv shows his sister watches (that Eiji definitely did not watch with her).
Ash would probably punch Eiji if he knew Eiji was comparing him to Max, which made the thought even funnier. He snickered quietly to himself, so that he didn’t wake Ash up, and turned back to the window.
Eiji never minded the long train ride to Okayama. Even as an impatient child bouncing off of walls, Eiji could remember his mother sitting him down next to the train window and being completely sedated by it. The passing scenery was mesmerizing and beautiful, and Eiji’s fingers itched to take his camera out and photograph everything: every bridged pond they passed, every small town he had never heard of, every lone biker on the road near the tracks. But, the train moved too fast, and he knew his attempts would be futile. He would have to settle for the images his memory could hold; rolling green fields, pitch-black soil, sun rays bleeding through the thick, cotton-ball clouds, farms of all kinds, power lines arcing over acres of long grass and wildflowers. They were travelling into towns even more rural than Izumo- even quieter, even emptier- and Eiji knew Ash would love it. Heck, the farm had a sunflower field, Eiji’s favourite flower (and by extension, Ash appreciated it as well)!
Eiji was just as excited to show Ash the farm as he was to take pictures of it, since he hadn’t been back since before New York, before he took up photography professionally. He couldn’t wait to show Ash the gazebo by the river with the tadpole pools and willow trees, or the old treehouse in the forest that he helped build as a seven-year-old (that would not hold the both of them together) where Ash could scratch his name into the wood next to Eiji’s (maybe Nahoko’s tv shows rubbed off on Eiji, just a little bit). He couldn’t wait to help at the farmers market on Friday night and Saturday morning, selling flowers and berries and honey next to Ash and his Aunt; he couldn’t wait to show Ash the apiary and watch Ash’s face transform into a mix of horror and fear when he realized the 10 apiaries held about 20 hives each, homing thousands of bees, and Eiji would laugh and him and goad him to walk closer, and-
Well, Eiji didn’t want to overwhelm Ash, of course, but he was so excited. The farm, besides Izumo, was his home. His secondary place of childhood memories; where he grew up and learned not to climb pine trees without shoes and gloves, and not to try and catch the soft bumblebees in his hands, no matter how cute they were, and not to walk in the fields barefoot and in shorts in the spring, even if the dark, wet soil looked inviting because you would be caked in itchy mud and your legs would be covered in thorn scratches from the berry bushes and your mother would just say ‘I told you so’ with no sympathy. Most of his common sense was taught at the farm.
And, just to add to Eiji’s luck, the weather was perfect. It was early summer, and even though the cherry blossoms had come and passed, littering the dirt roads and ponds with blush-pink and snow-white petals that faded to brown, the sun was eager while the breeze was just slightly cool, meaning you were never too hot or too cold- Eiji’s favourite weather.
The flowers at the farm would all be in bloom, and the freshly trimmed grass would be warm to the touch, and the open sunlight would reflect just right off of Ash’s eyes, and Eiji’s whole family would be in awe, and it would be Eiji’s turn to say ‘I told you so’ because Eiji talked about Ash’s eyes all of the time. His family would laugh, and they would say Eiji’s pictures didn’t compare to the real thing, and Eiji would have to agree because it was true, and Ash would squirm under the good-natured compliments and attention with a blush on his cheeks, layered on top of the spreading sunburn. Eiji would probably laugh at him when Nahoko said something like ‘he has angel eyes’, making him scoff, and Eiji would tell him to put some more sunscreen on like any good friend would in front of his family. Then, when they were finally alone, in the safety of their shared room and closed curtains, Eiji would smooth aloe vera over Ash’s skin. Ash would whine about being babied, that he could do it himself, but Eiji would tsk the complaints away, and say that he did it because he wanted to, knowing that Ash secretly revelled in it and only made a fuss for show. And then they would stretch out on their futons that they pushed together and nap in the sun peeking through the curtains like cats and-
Ok, maybe Eiji was really excited. So excited that he couldn’t remember their arrival. So excited that he couldn’t recall how they made it to the farm from the train, or who was at the farm with them, or who they had greeted and introduced Ash to, or when they moved outside, but suddenly Eiji was on one of three connected picnic blankets in the backyard. It wasn't that the area was strange- it was normal to pull out the cotton blankets so that everyone could stretch out in the sun and hope for a tan rather than a stinging burn- it’s just that Eiji had no clue how he got there.
Eiji blinked. He could have sworn he was just on the train here with Ash (not)sleeping next to him. Time will fly when you are… What was the phrase that Ash used? When you are… Doing fun things?
Maybe Eiji shouldn’t use that saying around Ash until he looked it up, because Ash would definitely laugh at him if he messed it up. He was mean like that.
Speaking of Ash, his head was on Eiji’s lap. Eiji thought he would have remembered that, at the very least, but he didn’t.
One of the three attached blankets was occupied by a small cooler, seemingly holding a jug of homemade lemonade and empty containers that used to hold sliced fruit- oranges and watermelon- which confused Eiji. Had he really eaten without noticing? On some sort of autopilot setting?
Next to the cooler, Eiji’s sister, Nahoko, was sprawled dramatically, hand draped over her forehead, oversized, overpriced tortoise-shell sunglasses perched on her nose. Beside her, Eiji’s cousin, Aiko, sat cross-legged, sipping a glass of iced green tea and honey through a straw. Across from the both of them Eiji’s aunt was stretched, propping herself up by her elbows as the three of them gossiped about boys and family drama, chatted about school and work, and predicted what dinner would be, as it was being prepared inside by Eiji’s mother and uncle. There was soft music playing, sounding a lot like Nahoko’s J-pop, from an unseen speaker, that both Nahoko and Ash were tapping their feet too. Eiji was sat up, legs outstretched, and Ash lay perpendicular to him, head resting on Eiji’s thighs.
They all looked happy. They all seemed as relaxed as they should be on the mellow Friday afternoon- they did skip school and work for this long weekend, after all. The five of them deserved the break; they deserved the mini-vacation.
Nahoko puffed her cheeks, peeking out the side of her glasses at the small ant that was crawling across the blanket next to her head in between her and Aiko. She lifted her hand and swiped it away without a care, with Aiko watching in horror. Ash wrinkled his nose with a small laugh.
Eiji looked down, once again at Ash as his head shifted on Eiji’s lap; Ash peered up at him through squinted eyes, the sun blinding him. Eiji’s immediate reaction was to ask what was wrong, some sort of pavlovian conditioning after the years they had spent together, but before he could open his mouth to say a word, Ash smiled, nose scrunching up in the same way he made fun of Eiji for. That alone shut Eiji all the way up, brain stalling and whirring and computing and storing that image for years to come, the same way his camera would.
Eiji blinked at him for a moment, brain slowly starting up again, before he smiled back, moving one of his hands that was propping him up and relocated it to Ash’s hair that was spilt over Eiji’s thighs like a halo. He brushed his fingers through the strands like a fine-toothed comb, smoothing any and all knots before petting it flat again, soft as sunflower petals.
Eiji seemed to have grounded himself again, after that strange lapse of memory, and he was starting to remember more as he pat Ash’s head: His mother and uncle were inside, his father was still in the hospital, and Nahoko, Aiko, and Eiji’s Aunt had forced the both of them outside for the impromptu picnic as soon as they arrived. They wanted to stretch out and follow the sun before it dipped behind the horizon, before early dinner and the 5:00 market.
The sun seemed so much brighter than usual, but maybe Eiji just needed sunglasses— glinting off of hair and drinks and blades of grass like everything was shrouded in tinted cellophane wrap that his mother packaged gifts with. Shiny, transparent, delicate.
Below him, Ash’s hand nudged Eiji’s bare ankle as he chuckled at something his aunt said, which was strange because her English was not the best (compared to his sister and cousin, that is). He assumed she would have needed more translation to converse with Ash, but they seemed to be doing fine. Eiji decided that he should probably tune in, though, in case he missed something important like crap talking his sister or them crap talking him for not listening. He brushed his fingers through Ash’s hair once more before focusing on the words floating around his head.
The four of them seemed to be talking about photography- Eiji’s photography- and school without Eiji’s awareness, opinion, or contribution.
“-He is so good, we has seen his school photos,” Eiji’s aunt said in broken English, but doing better than Eiji could ever remember. “From his… from his mother! But never from him!” she huffed, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. She was Eiji’s mother’s younger sister by 5 years, so she was much more hip than his mother (in his personal and reliable opinion) and was probably one of Eiji’s favourite family members. She was always up to date on the popular things (although that may be due to her close relationship with Aiko), she always made time for Eiji, constantly supported all of his decisions, and was funny on top of it all. Much better than his piece-of-work sister and paranoid mother. Maybe that was rude. He loved them all, really, but he and his aunt had always clicked.
“Yes!” Nahoko joined in because she never kept her mouth shut when she had an opinion. “He is the worst about telling private things! Did you know, Ash-kun, that he still has not shown us most of his New York photos? Barely any!” she complained, sitting up from her reclined position to rant. Aiko laughed into her drink as Nahoko started to wave her arms around, knocking the cooler and making the lemonade slosh dangerously close to the rim of the jug.
Ash chuckled along with Aiko, poking Eiji’s shin, one of his rare smiles digging grooves in his cheeks. Maybe, now that Ash has the time and safety to smile and laugh and let his guard down, those lines will become permanent. Imagine that, Ash Callenreese with smile lines. Max Lobo would probably make a joke about it if he were there.
“It has been a whole two months! And you show me nothing!” Nahoko turned on Eiji, putting her good grades in English class to use for Eiji’s American boyfriend- wait, did his family know they were dating…? Were they dating? Eiji could not remember.
“And it does not help that you were basically a shut-in, like the main character in that anime Aiko-chan made me watch,” she continued her rant, sitting up properly, sunglasses falling down her nose, soft shorts riding up to expose a tan line she will definitely complain about later.
“You did not understand that show, Nahoko-chan,” Aiko rolled her eyes. She was probably the smartest in Eiji’s family (including him) at sixteen years old (she and Nahoko were born in the same year), with higher grades than Eiji ever dreamed of achieving, and he had a respectable average. Nahoko’s grades could use work, on the other hand, but that did not stop her from acting like a know-it-all. Aiko was also an avid manga reader and anime watcher and had introduced Eiji to a lot of the manga he loved. Behind his aunt, Aiko probably stole second favourite. Not that he was making a list of favourites, of course, because that was rude… but if he were to list them, it would not be hard. Eiji was good at ordering the pros and cons.
“Shut up!” Nahoko screeched, leaning over to smack Aiko’s grass-stained knee cap with a loud whack because as a know-it-all, she could not be wronged.
“It is not my fault you are such an air-head,” Aiko snickered, sipping sneakily at her iced tea, circling the large glass to remix the honey settling at the bottom. Perspiration from the cold cup wet her fingers in the heat.
“Hey!” Nahoko protested, launching another attack at her cousin’s legs.
Ash let out an amused huff through his nose, lifting a hand to shade his eyes against the bright to gaze at Eiji properly. Eiji wished so badly that he had his camera, his mind pleading for the familiar click of buttons under his fingers tips. Instead, he twirled his fingers in Ash’s hair.
“ Onii-chan, how could you!” Ash pouted in fake sympathy for Nahoko. Eiji was right, however long ago he made that observation; Ash and Nahoko got along exceedingly well, and it was a pain in his ass. The two of them ganged up on Eiji constantly, their two-year difference making them a better match as siblings than Eiji’s and Nahoko’s four-year gap. They even acted the same in a childish, annoying way. If not for the different hair and eyes, he would think that Nahoko and Ash were brother and sister, rather than Eiji and Nahoko. Unfortunately, Eiji was told (an irritating amount) that he and Nahoko looked so very similar. It did not help that Eiji looked the same age as her. It didn’t matter, in the long run, because that meant she would look old before him.
Eiji tugged on a strand of Ash’s hair, narrowing his eyes at him. Why didn’t he show his family the hundreds of photos he took in New York? Well, of course, because of….
“Because of…” Eiji’s voice fell away like white peony petals after their season ended, English failing him. Ash, in his lap, was watching him so openly, so carefully, lips still pursed in a pout like a child who was refused convenience store money for snacks, waiting for an answer Eiji couldn’t find. Why didn’t he show his family the pictures? He felt as if there was a reason, and an important one at that, but he could not put his finger on it, like when you fall asleep anxious and wake up with its echo in your bones. You feel awful, but you can’t remember why.
There had to be some sort of reason, they had been back for two months, as Nahoko said. Thinking about it was making an unease grow in Eiji’s stomach, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He wanted to stop thinking about why, even though he could not remember, but Ash was looking so expectant, hanging off of Eiji’s words like they mattered.
Well, Ash was right there, and he was more-or-less consenting to Eiji showing the pictures, so why couldn’t he show them? As long as Ash was ok with it, of course.
It only made sense to show them, he was gone for nearly two years, after all. What was the big deal?
“Fine,” Eiji said, instead of giving a reason, sticking his tongue out at Ash. “I’ll show them what I brought here with me.”
“Yay!” Nahoko squealed, halting her assault on Aiko, along with the cheers of Aiko and Eiji’s aunt. They all stared expectantly as if they thought he could produce his camera out of midair like a curbside magician. Eiji sighed.
“All right. My camera bag is inside, though, I’ve got to go grab it, which means you,” Eiji pointed an accusing finger at Ash’s face, “have to get off of me.”
“Awe, but I was so comfortable,” Ash complained, patting Eiji’s shin like he was a dog. Eiji frowned at him.
“You are the one who asked me to show, get your lazy American butt up,” Eiji demanded, jostling his thighs under Ash’s head, making his blond bangs fall in front of his eyes. Ash glowered at him from behind the yellow-gold strands appropriately before rolling aside on the pink blanket.
Eiji stuck his tongue out once more in Ash’s direction, satisfied that Ash did not have a cheeky come back (because that meant that Eiji won) and stretched to his feet, arms arched over his head towards the birds to crack his spine before brushing off the back of his shorts, despite the fact that he was sitting on the blanket. Habit, he assumed.
Eiji turned to leave, to get his camera like everyone wanted so badly, but a cool hand latched around his ankle. Eiji looked down to find Ash slumped over, cross-legged, ‘angel’ eyes peering mischievously through his hair. More like devil eyes.
“I can’t get up on my own, Eiji. I was stabbed, remember? I need help.” he explained, fingertips pressing into Eiji’s Achilles tendon, clutching to him like a child’s hand’s on monkey bars. Let go, and you will meet your fate.
“You are perfectly capable of standing on your own, Ash, do not pretend,” Eiji dismissed, shaking his foot away. Ash held his ground. One receives a tight grip when learning not to drop your weapon at all costs.
“But Eiji, you’re a jock! You have muscles, so use em’! Come on, show me the strength,” Ash finally released his hold, but only to make grabby hands, the same way Ibe’s niece, Akira, did when she wanted to be lifted up.
Eiji puffed his cheeks out and sighed as if he was annoyed (he was rarely ever actually annoyed with Ash, even when he was being a brat).
“Brat,” Eiji mumbled aloud, but he was trying his best to not smile at Ash's antics (he would not let him win) outstretching his hands for the younger boy. Ash smirked, taking the hands as a win anyway, and nearly pulled Eiji off of his feet as he used him for support. Once he was on his feet, he pretended to wobble, like an old man with bad knees in dire need of a cane.
“Oh no!” Ash exclaimed, leaning heavily on Eiji, “It seems my wound is affecting my balance, you will have to carry me to the house, how embarrassing!” he declared, lying, Eiji knew, but he couldn’t help the giggle that escaped his lips.
“Oh gosh, your fragile frame, how could I forget? You’re so weak, of course,” Eiji rolled his eyes because he had seen Ash more than one grown man unconscious in their years together. “I must use my pole vaulting body to give you a piggy-back ride, or you might faint!”
“I’m so lucky to have a friend like you, I’m glad you understand the stakes, Eiji,” Ash nodded seriously, while simultaneously wrapping his arms around Eiji’s neck. Eiji rolled his eyes again (Ash was going to give him eye damage) but squatted down nonetheless. How could he possibly say no, after all of those theatrics?
It was worth it to say yes, though, because Ash let out a surprised laugh into Eiji’s ear when Eiji hiked him up to sit more comfortably on his back, tucking his head over Eiji’s shoulder, draping himself over Eiji as if being carried normally wasn’t enough. He was so childishly dramatic, sometimes, but Eiji thought he deserved it. He didn’t have the time to be young his whole life, so why not start now? Who was Eiji to stop him when he was so obviously enjoying himself- when he finally looked happy?
The girls laughed below them, but their voices were dull in comparison to Ash’s quiet giggling, his lips brushing Eiji’s ear on accident and yet leaving a burning imprint. Eiji savoured the moment, the sound, the feeling, for a single moment, before adjusting his hands under his thighs and leaving the three girls. He grunted under the weight, his bare feet sinking into the thick grass that carpeted the entire yard.
“You’re getting heavy, I think you’re finally going through your last growth spurt,” Eiji jabbed, holding Ash’s thighs to stop him from falling. He sounded antagonizing, but there was a smile on his face as he walked, because Ash was so warm on his back, and he was hugging Eiji so tightly, almost as if he was relishing in the physical touch— like Eiji was safe— so he could do things like that. He didn’t have an ounce of fear or apprehension in his body. Eiji wished it was always like that— wished that Ash never grew up the way he did, so that he was not so subconsciously opposed to the things that made him feel happy.
“I’m eighteen, it’s still possible. Then I’ll be even taller than you, shortie!” Ash laughed, earning a pinch on the thigh, but Eiji’s brain stumbled on the age… was he a bad best friend? He could have sworn Ash was turning 20 in two months…?
The insult seemed more pressing, no point in worrying.
“5,8 is not that short!” Eiji blurted, avoiding the frisbee in the grass.
“Maybe not in Japan,” Ash snickered.
“Watch it, Ash, I will drop you!” Eiji threatened, pretending to lose his grip. Ash scrambled for a tighter hold around Eiji’s shoulder and wrapped his legs around Eiji’s waist instead of letting them dangle in an attempt to stay off the ground.
“You wouldn’t! Not when I’m so very injured!” Ash laughed, digging his chin into Eiji’s shoulder. Eiji scowled, but quickly an idea popped into his brain, a game he used to play frequently with his younger sister and cousin as kids.
“Ack- Eiji!” Ash shouted, clutching tighter as Eiji spun in a circle, and then spun again, laughing unabashedly. After 3 spins (because if he got too dizzy then they would both fall) Eiji pretended to lose his grip and started forwards again with a jump in his step, hopefully making for an unpleasant experience for the boy on his back who was scrambling for a better grip.
“Sorry, I can not hear you, Ash, I’m too busy showing off my ‘jock’ muscles, as you say,” Eiji giggled, spinning again, feet sliding on the grass, hiking Ash up much higher than needed. When they arrived at the back door of the house, they were both breathless and feeling more like kids than they had in ages. Ash clung to Eiji and bit his shoulder in retaliation as Eiji slid the door open that led to the connected kitchen and living room.
Eiji swished inside, away from the cicadas and bees and birds, into the naturally lit home, as familiar to him as Izumo, giggling like a child on New Years. His feet were covered in grass and Ash was digging his dull nails into Eiji’s chest, seconds away from licking Eiji’s ear.
Someone cleared their throat, and Ash pulled away instantly.
They both looked up, laughter ceasing like summer rain, abruptly, like it had never been there in the first place, with nothing but an echo in their lungs. Eiji’s uncle was frowning behind the kitchen island, chopping veggies next to the running sink, surrounded by dark walnut cupboards dotted with the iridescent reflection of the stained glass suncatcher in the kitchen window. He wore a cherry red apron that read ‘Kiss the Cook’ in English, a gift from Eiji’s aunt after she saw it in an American movie; he wore it constantly. Eiji assumed Max would have something similar.
A breeze blew through the kitchen window, catching the white gossamer curtains. They billowed, the suncatcher twinkling and chiming as the strands of glass beads brushed each other, thunderously loud in the heavy silence. The wind ruffled the leaves of the vased sunflowers on the counter, knocking a yellow petal loose. It dropped to the counter soundlessly.
Eiji couldn’t help the awkward cough that was leftover from his laughing, dropping Ash to the floor, who recovered instantly (because he was not as injured as he claimed). Eiji stood tall and held his uncle's eyes, waiting to be reprimanded; a metaphorical slap on the wrist for causing such a ruckus.
And then Eiji’s uncle cracked, his faked-serious face crumbling, and he started to chuckle.
“Do not worry, I am just joking,” he smiled widely, using English, aware of Ash’s lacking Japanese vocabulary, as polite as the rest of his family. He started washing and chopping again, laughing at Eiji’s growing scowl. “Look at your faces! That was a good one, yeah?”
Eiji’s jaw dropped in feigned offence, shaking his head as he started to rub his grass-damp feet off on the mat in front of the door; no one wore shoes around the farm on a lazy day like this, so the mat was crucial for long summer days outside.
“That was rude, you scared us!” Eiji accused, nudging Ash’s arm to hint that he needed to wipe his feet as well. Ash quickly complied; he might whine to Eiji about Japanese customs, but he would never dare in front of Eiji’s family (besides Nahoko, though. They complained together).
Eiji did not see a reason to wait for his uncle’s response, even if that was impolite, and rather decided to grab Ash’s sun-warmed hand, pulling him into the house. Their bare feet slapped on the tatami mat floors (the house was very traditional) as Eiji led them to their shared bedroom, skipping down the empty hallway with Ash following blindly.
Eiji slid the door to their room open with an unnecessary Bang! , yanking the both of them inside. The bedroom was bright and soft and clean, empty as most spare rooms were, with an unmistakable air of ‘unlived’ while still being ‘lived in’, like the room of a ghost. It did not hold posters, only a couple of pieces of framed art on the white walls. The wood desk was devoid of books-being-read, or notebooks, or scrap pieces of papers with doodles, yet there was a jar of pencils with funny erasers. Eiji knew there was a volume of his manga in one of the desk drawers that he had left here three years ago. A stray paper with a child’s drawing sat on top of the dresser, unnamed. There was no bed frame or mattress, but rather two futons rolled out and shoved together to act as a double bed, Eiji’s camera bag sitting conveniently in the centre. While Eiji would have loved to lie down and indulge in an afternoon nap, they had not come to their room to abandon family fun. Eiji dragged Ash to the double-futon bed and picked up his camera bag.
Ash slotted his head over Eiji’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around Eiji’s waist to watch, which felt both achingly familiar and absolutely foreign despite how much they normally touched, as Eiji unzipped the bag to grab his camera. He definitely did not zero in on Ash’s fingertips, pressing to his stomach through his shirt, and he did not stumble on the zipper either, nearly catching his skin.
“You guys are lucky I keep my old SD cards in my camera bag or you would have no chance to see the pictures!” Eiji claimed, opening the pocket that held old memory cards and quickly locating one dated back eight months, around the time they were living in the expensive condo together. He tried his best not to fumble as he switched the current card to the old one, but Ash’s breath was on his neck, his eyes tracking Eiji’s movement carefully and attentively like he wanted to memorize how to do it all himself. Eiji turned the camera on.
Ignoring the flashing banner on screen that the card was full, Eiji clicked the photo library and began scrolling back, much too fast for Ash’s over-observant eyes to track, looking for some pictures of Ash. Eiji had gone through this specific card about a million times; he knew it off by heart; knew it like the back of Ash’s scarred hand, knew it like the forest paths behind the farm, or the roads of Izumo. He knew this card as well as one knows their phone camera roll, able to find every picture in record time.
After a waiting silence, Eiji slowed the scroll to a stop and chose one of his favourite photos for Ash.
“Look,” Eiji murmured to the boy over his shoulder, pointing at the camera’s screen with a nostalgic ache in his gut. On it was a picture of Ash right after Eiji had woken him up; an early morning on a meaningless day. The sun was pouring through the huge windows because Eiji had pulled the curtains back to goad him out of bed, and the golden-white light poured over him, sitting on the edge of his bed. His hair was a wild mess, sticking up every which way (how people feared him, Eiji didn’t know), he was not wearing a shirt, and his jeans were only halfway done up. His hands had stalled on the button as soon as he caught Eiji pointing the camera at him, and he frowned, opening his mouth to insult Eiji for taking a picture of him half-dressed; Eiji could almost hear him grumble an antagonistic ‘pervert’ through the pixels.
Ash had once told Eiji that he didn’t like pictures being taken of him because of his past. Despite that, whenever Eiji asked, he would agree, and whenever Eiji pointed the camera at him, he never seemed to mind. Even if Eiji did it behind Ash’s back, Ash would obviously notice, and then pretend not to, allowing Eiji to take the candid. He might complain, but he never meant it. If Ash was upset with Eiji’s actions, Eiji would have stopped immediately. But he never was. He knew that Eiji had different intentions when he used his camera. Pure. Innocent.
“That photo is so bad,” present-Ash whined, reaching his other arm over Eiji’s shoulder. “Come on, Eiji, delete it, I don’t want your family to see me half naked!”
“I will not show them this one, but I will not delete it! It is my photo!” Eiji giggled, moving the camera out of reach of Ash’s grabby hands like he was a child covered in melted sugar and spit. It was one of Eiji’s favourite photos; it was just so… Ash.
He did not tell Ash that, though. And he did not tell him that it wouldn’t matter if he deleted it, because Eiji had already backed it up on his computer and also printed it for himself, stashed in a box under his bed. Ash did not need to know. What Eiji did was none of his business.
“It is not your photo, it’s a photo of me, I should get to decide!” Ash griped, but he dropped his hand, obviously not caring enough to keep up the act. Eiji glanced at the photo more, and it pulled a smile to his face like it always did.
There was a moment of silence, so quiet that they could hear sizzling from the stove in the kitchen before Ash leaned his cheek on Eiji’s shoulder and looked up at him.
“Why didn’t you show your family the photos?” he questioned with confused green eyes. The query caught Eiji off guard.
“Because…” Eiji trailed off, letting the camera screen turn black. Why couldn't he remember? There must have been a good reason… - oh. Oh!
“Because I thought you were dead! It hurt too much to look at them!” Eiji explained, unsure of how he forgot something so important, something that hurt for so long. Even then, the words felt weird on his tongue, like food with an off-texture. He decided not to mention that he looked at the pictures on his own daily, constantly, missing Ash like a deadly dose of homesickness. Eiji had been homesick before, being away from Izumo for two years, so he understood the feeling. Missing Ash was worse.
“Oh… I guess that makes sense,” Ash nodded against Eiji’s shirt, but it sounded wrong. His tone was stale, words lilting in an unusual way. It sounded alien.
“I really missed you,” Eiji replied without meaning to, his mouth moving and responding on its own like it had unattached from Eiji’s brain and impulse control. Rebel thoughts.
He stared hard at the camera in his hands and clicked it back on, scrolling past the photos again, way too fast for either of them to register what they were.
Ash’s arm fell away from Eiji’s waist, fingers dragging, and he lifted his head off Eiji’s shoulder. Suddenly, Eiji was freezing cold, like he was dumped in New York’s winter, rather than Okayama’s humid summer. His body yearned for the familiar weight on his back as it pulled away.
Goosebumps raised the hairs on Eiji’s arm, and, embarrassingly and inexplicably, tears pricked at the back of his eyes, summer-sun on black pavement hot. A habitual lump rose in his throat, choking his airways.
“I still miss you,” Eiji noted numbly, forcing the words out around the mass suffocating him.
“But I’m right here?” Ash responded, but his voice was farther away, no longer tucked beside Eiji’s ear.
Eiji spun on the spot, looking around for his person, and found him at the door, half a step out of it.
“Then why are you leaving?” Eiji challenged weakly, tears gathering in his eyes, welling up so large that they blinded him, making everything in the room blurry and shiny like he was peering through rain speckled glasses.
When the two tears finally escaped his eyes, when he could finally see again, Ash pursed his lips and tapped an unfamiliar rhythm out on the door frame, like he was trying to find a way to bear bad news to someone. Eiji stood helplessly in the centre of the room, clutching his camera to his chest as if that would help. A clutch, Ash had called it once. The same way Ash used to hold onto a knife, although his weapon provided more protection than the superficial layer his camera granted.
“Well, it’s safer this way, of course,” Ash responded at last, but he didn’t… seem bothered whatsoever. Eiji couldn’t see any pain in his eyes, none of the poorly hidden emotion Eiji usually sought out when Ash told this ugly non-truth. He did not mirror Eiji’s useless crying, which did not make sense because Ash hated saying goodbye to Eiji. Eiji could always see in his eyes.
Eiji opened his mouth— to protest, maybe, or choke on a sob (more likely), but before he could find the words, before he could make a sound, Ash flashed him a smile, one of the smiles without smile lines, and disappeared around the corner. Out of the room. Gone.
The camera clattered against the tatami mat floors when Eiji dropped it and bolted forwards. He caught himself on the doorframe, looking left and right down the hallway like he was at a crosswalk. The hall seemed dark now. Too dark, too quiet. Most importantly, Ash wasn’t standing there; he wasn’t waiting for him.
Slipping in his rush, Eiji ran back to the kitchen where his uncle was finishing dinner it seemed— plating meals. Eiji couldn’t smell a thing. He couldn’t hear the rice being scraped into bowls or the clinking of the spatula on the pan.
“ Where is Ash?” Eiji asked breathlessly, speaking in Japanese once more, chest heaving from his dash and the oncoming panic bubbling in his empty stomach. His uncle looked up and regarded him with a frown, pausing his dishing efforts.
“ Who?” he asked back, eyebrows raised in bewilderment. Eiji paled, blood draining his face.
Eiji grabbed at his chest and clutched the front of his shirt, because God, why did his chest feel so tight? Why couldn’t he breathe— what was happening? Everything hurt so badly, why did it hurt?
He turned, deciding his uncle was useless and stumbled to the door. He wrenched it open, exposing an angry grey sky, typical of a summer thunderstorm, and set out, ready to charge the picnic of his family members and demand to know where Ash, His Ash, went. As soon as he pitched out of the door the three girls were pushing towards him, ready to eat dinner together. Together, without Ash. How could they eat without him, as a guest? As Eiji’s favourite person? Didn’t they understand how important he was?
When Nahoko approached, he grabbed her arm, yanking her to a complete stop with a squeak.
“ Where is Ash? Where did he go?” Eiji interrogated, voice scratchy and laboured. If he could breathe or swallow, he would be a lot more composed, but he croaked unevenly. Nahoko, in typical sister fashion, stared at Eiji like he was crazy.
“ Who the heck is Ash?” Nahoko wrinkled her nose at the foreign name, and then shrugged his hand off her arm, but it was harsher than she probably intended. His legs were weak with worry, so he fell to the ground, clutching the front of his shirt like he was having a heart attack. He really did feel like he was having a heart attack. His knees dug into the grass as his aunt skirted around him like he had a transmissible disease, and they all disappeared inside and shut the door behind him.
Eiji barely noticed. He didn’t even care, because the hole in his chest was so huge and all-encompassing, growing larger and larger, so large that Eiji was afraid it would swallow him. The sunflower field across from Eiji taunted him, the tall flowers that reminded him of Ash looming and blowing to face him in the heavy storm wind, and— and Eiji Couldn’t Breathe — why couldn't he breathe?
And he was crying— sobbing— and hyperventilating, and he was digging his fingers into the dirt below the thick grass, pushing it under his fingernails to the point of pain, to the point of drawing blood as he scratched and pried at the earth, but it didn’t hurt as bad as the echoing loneliness in his chest.
Where was Ash? Where was he, and why did he leave— why wasn’t he with Eiji? Eiji told him that he would stay with him forever, but he was still alive, so where was he? Why did he leave, why didn’t he stay like they promised? Ash was Eiji’s best friend, Eiji— Eiji needed Ash, so why did he disappear? Eiji needed him, he loved him, so where the hell did he go—
A gunshot echoed, rather than thunder. It was a noise that Eiji should not know so well, growing up in rural Japan, but it had become a sound of his nightmares. He felt his skin tear. Eiji looked down at his stomach at the once healed scar that was supposed to be nothing but white raised skin, to find himself bleeding again. His gunshot wound, the one he received when he saved Ash, had reopened, and— fuck, ow.
Ow, shit, Eiji was bleeding heavily, just like the first time, and he scrambled to put pressure on the gash, his dirty, mud-covered fingers pressing deeper than his skin should have allowed. A blood splotch on his shirt started small and spread like spilt tea, turning the blue polo shirt he was wearing for a nice dinner a swampy red.
Eiji squeezed his eyes shut around the tears. There was so much blood, and he couldn't breathe, and it hurt so bad, and Good Lord, where the FUCK was Ash?
Eiji gasped as his eyes flew open, shooting up in his bed at his parent’s house with a strangled gasp, rushing to press his fingers to the hole in his stomach. His trembling fingers shoved the fabric of his black tank top aside so that he could access the wound directly, but when he finally made it, there was nothing but rough skin leftover from stitches.
Injury aside, he still couldn't breathe, like something heavy was sitting on his chest (like when Ash would tackle him and end up on top, claiming that he won triumphantly) and God, he felt like he was going to blackout, felt like his ribs had all snapped at once, puncturing his burning lungs. Eiji looked left and right, hoping to find something or someone , but he found his bed cold and empty. There was no one sleeping with him because Ash— Ash was Gone.
Oh, God, Ash was gone. He left Eiji, he went off and died after they— after they promised — and he wasn’t coming back.
Eiji hiccuped on a sob, trying his hardest to catch his breath, but he just couldn’t, not for the life of him.
Why wasn’t Ash there? Why was he gone, when Eiji so clearly needed him?
Wrapping his arms around his chest, Eiji openly wept— tears running rampant, breaths hitched, wailing— because he lost the most important thing to him. He lost his person— and he would never get him back.
Eiji knew he had to be quiet. He knew that he was going to wake up his sister who had her exams in a week, and his parents would overhear and give him that look in the morning at breakfast because he wasn’t getting better, and he wouldn’t talk about it, and if he didn’t talk to them they were going to send him to a therapist, but Eiji just wasn’t ready —
The lights above Eiji turned on.
Eiji looked up from his hunched position, expecting his sister’s angry face and confused brown eyes, because once again her brother was crying and she didn’t know why because he wouldn’t tell her anything; or his mother’s crestfallen mouth, face dripping with sympathy and pity over her son who came back from America broken—
He blinked. And blinked again, realizing he was not in Izumo, but rather his apartment in Tokyo, where he was currently attending university. The apartment he’s lived in for nearly two years now— wait, what? Two years—?
Eiji, now sad, anxious, distressed, AND confused, looked at the wall where the light switch sat next to the door and found Ash standing next to it without a large glass of water in his hands, eyes wide and alert. They held eyes.
Another sob was ripped from Eiji’s throat.
“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong, what happened?” Ash shut the door and walked over to the bed as Eiji keeled over his bent knees under the comforter, lungs aching for oxygen.
“Ashu—” Eiji slurred on his name and broke off, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his cries. He bit down, teeth sinking into his sweaty palm, hoping the pain would ground him and stop the awful sounds from his throat. Neither act was achieved. How… How was Ash here?
Ash stopped next to Eiji’s bed— Their Bed— and sat on the edge, sliding the glass of water onto the bedside table next to his thin, gold-rimmed glasses. Eiji remembered slipping them off of his face before bed, putting them on the table before he curled up to sleep beside him. Like normal.
“Oh my God,” Eiji whimpered, curling in on himself, because the grief and mourning and heartache was so painful, so horrifically awful, even after so many months with Ash at his side. He felt scooped clean, numb, and empty in the worst way.
Ash scooted closer on the bed, cautious not to startle Eiji, face sombre.
“Can I touch you?” he murmured into the quiet room, arms opening wide.
Eiji did not hesitate, dropping sideways into his chest, wrapping his arms around Ash’s waist. He pressed his tear covered face into Ash’s shirt, dying to hear his heartbeat under the layer of fabric, skin, and bones, just to confirm that he was real— that he was alive in front of him, even if there was a scar on his stomach so much like Eiji’s. But Ash, Aslan , he was there, in front of Eiji, and it hurt So Bad.
“Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me,” Eiji hiccuped, bunching Ash’s shirt into his hands. “Please, I don’t want to miss you anymore.”
Ash exhaled shakily, placing one hand on Eiji’s back, and another unsteady hand in Eiji’s tangled black hair. He may not know exactly what was happening, but he had his own fair share of nightmares from his days in America. Sure, his dreams were different, usually full of large hands, ugly twisted faces, needles with evil drugs, shiny guns, and blood of others on his hands, but it didn’t matter if they weren’t similar; they bruised all the same.
“I’m not going anywhere, Eiji,” Ash whispered, petting his dark hair, not sounding like he could speak any louder.
“Please— you can’t. You can’t leave. I missed you so much, I thought I was going to die,” Eiji pleaded, pressing his cheek to Ash’s chest, searching for the usual, routine thump that made him live.
“I promise—”
“I thought I was going to die , Ashu,” Eiji interrupted him, English words slurring in his half-asleep state. He looked up at Ash and held his eyes, challenging him to say something dumb like ‘you were safer without me’ or ‘you would be happier if we never met’. Ash stared back, but he couldn’t hold Eiji’s eyes when he looked like that; like he had been smashed into a thousand little pieces in his sleep.
“I know, I’m so sorry,” he sighed, patting his hair and rubbing his back. Eiji pressed his face back into Ash’s chest, succeeding in soaking it to Ash’s skin.
“God, please don’t take him away from me. Please, God, Please let him stay with me,” Eiji muttered in Japanese, pulling his best friend, his partner, his boyfriend, as close as possible.
“What was that, love?” Ash asked softly. Even though he had lived in Japan for months with Eiji, his Japanese was slow learning. He knew basic vocabulary, and formal sentences, but Eiji’s slurred muttering would not make any sense to him, probably sounding like nonsensical babbling or a toddler without a grasp of the English language.
Eiji didn’t care; he just shook his head against Ash’s chest and squeezed him tight, so that he could never disappear, ever again. If Eiji kept his hands on him, he couldn’t vanish, couldn’t leave him alone.
“Just don’t go,” He choked out, twisting his head to lie over Ash’s heart once more because he needed it like he needed both lungs, like he needed the blood in his veins, like he needed water and food and shelter. Ash was at the bottom of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Ash soothed, drawing circles over and around Eiji’s spine. His voice was rough, Eiji realized. He was also awake and up in the middle of the night after they fell asleep together.
“I promised to stay with you, so you can’t leave,” Eiji stressed, breaths regulating under Ash’s lulling hand, sedating like a lullaby, or heavy allergy medication Eiji sometimes needed for pollen.
“Never…” Ash paused and shifted Eiji up to a proper seated position. Eiji squinted through water-logged, stinging eyes and a growing headache as he reached behind him and grabbed the glass of water. He pushed it into Eiji’s hands.
“Come on, drink up, you’ll get dehydrated,” he murmured. Eiji regarded the mason jar, mouth suddenly dry, throat suddenly scratchy, and tipped the glass against his lips.
As he drank, he peered at Ash’s heavy eyes, hooded starkly over the jade green, that were obviously rubbed red. He probably woke up to a nightmare, similar to him, except without the moral support, and yet here he was, helping Eiji and letting Eiji touch him even though he couldn’t stand physical touch after most of his bad dreams. Because he knew that Eiji needed it; because he saw that Eiji was in pain.
Eiji’s heart slammed into his ribs.
He passed the glass back to Ash, who put it aside carelessly, before wiping his thumbs under Eiji’s puffy eyes and used the hem of Eiji’s t-shirt to clean his nose like a child. Eiji couldn’t find the energy to complain.
His breath was finally slowing, though, and the ringing in his ear, leftover from the dreamt gunshot, was passing, fading into the background.
And Ash was in front of him, messy-haired, with tired eyes, and his calloused fingers were on his cheeks, and he was truly, positively alive.
Eiji shuddered out a full breath.
“I’m right here, Eiji,” Ash pushed the sweaty bangs off his forehead, and tucked the rest behind his ears. Eiji nodded in response, dropping his head to Ash’s shoulder as Ash started to rub his back again, from his tailbone to between his shoulder blades. After a quiet moment, Ash turned and kissed Eiji’s hot, hair-covered temple. It surprised Eiji, even after being together for months.
“Come on, now, you need to sleep before school tomorrow,” Ash murmured, letting him go. He stood up off the bed and turned to leave, sparking instant fear in Eiji’s heart. His throat constricted. His lungs stuttered. He tripped over the blankets tangled around his legs and launched forwards, latching onto the back of Ash’s sleep shirt to stop him. Ash glanced back with his eyebrows raised.
“Where are you going?” Eiji croaked, gripping tight. He refused to let Ash leave him again. Not after everything.
Ash smiled softly. Tiredly.
“Just to turn out the light,” he eased, placing a hand on Eiji’s wrist.
“Oh… right,” Eiji let go shyly, folding himself back into the mattress.
Just like he promised, Ash went to the switch, flicked it off, and padded back to their bed. He gestured in the dark for Eiji to shove over, lifted the blankets, and climbed under the covers with him. Eiji quickly sought out his waist as he turned to face the door (Ash had to sleep on the outside, he felt safer that way) and wrapped his arms around him, letting his shoulders encompass Ash’s. He pressed his hot hands over Ash’s scar on his stomach and leaned his forehead against the back of Ash’s neck so he knew Ash wasn’t going anywhere. He was there. He wasn’t leaving.
“Go back to sleep, I can hear you thinking,” Ash scolded in the dark, lightly pinching Eiji’s arm.
“I’ll sleep when I want to, you go to sleep,” Eiji huffed, nudging the back of Ash’s head. Ash chuckled dryly into the dark.
They stayed quiet for a couple of minutes, to the point of which Eiji assumed they were going to sleep again. But Ash spoke up.
“If you need me to say it, I promise I won’t leave you again. The way you promised me,” he whispered.
“You do not need to say it, I know,” Eiji responded because it was true. He knew, after everything, that Ash wouldn’t leave again, no matter how much he believed Eiji deserved better, or how much he believed he deserved worse. Even if Ash thought his life warranted punishment (it didn’t) he wouldn’t run away. Because somewhere, deep inside, Eiji had convinced him that he was due more, that he was allowed to love and be loved.
Eiji pressed a kiss to the back of Ash’s neck and fell back asleep.
There's a battle ahead
Many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're travelling with me