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Vacations are lonely in the best yet strangest ways, Ash thinks, as he looks over at the horizon from the edge of a pool. He’s never seen a sky this colorful, pinks and purples and oranges blending in every shade he didn’t know clouds could realistically be – even the New York skyline, the one saving grace about that wretched city he both loves and hates, had never once been this vibrant, the gray metal of the skyscrapers always bleeding into the sky and turning everything dusky.
This here– the sound of waves crashing against rocks, getting to see the sky in full, the deserted beach in front of him, all the while he’s neck-deep in a pool– is entirely unfamiliar, and that unfamiliarity scares him a little, but it feels good.
New, and good.
And Ash has learnt to welcome the new and the good in recent years, because he– for no reason, and with no need for any justification– deserves them. He’s trying to believe that, at least, and he’s successful sometimes– like now, as he lets himself sink a little deeper and feels no guilt.
Eiji swims over to his side. “It’s so quiet here,” he says, pulling himself up to sit on the edge and letting his legs dangle in the water. “I guess we really are the only ones on a beach in December.”
“They’ll start to come in after Christmas,” Ash offers, “or maybe around New Year’s Eve? I don’t know enough about the public holidays here.”
Eiji hums. He stretches out his legs and kicks the water, sending splashes to Ash’s face and waves down the pool that, from certain angles, catch the sunlight just right to look silver. The Eiji-propelled waves make his body feel more buoyant and light, but he puts his hands on Eiji’s legs anyway. “Don’t move around too much,” he points out, gesturing at the noticeable piles of sand and whatever else on the floor of the swimming pool, “I doubt they have anywhere close to the number of guests worth cleaning the pool daily.”
“Aww, and you’re gonna use that as an excuse for losing the race earlier? Floors too dirty for you to swim against me?”
Eiji has that teasing tilt in his voice and his eyes are gleaming all too handsomely, the reflecting warmth of the sky on his face doesn’t help, and Ash wants to kiss him a bit more than he usually does, but he chooses to turn away in a pout instead.
“I’m still bitter,” he says, even though his voice holds not a tiny hint of it. “It was an unfair contest from the start! You’re abusing your ex-pole vaulter athletic privileges against me, and it hurts .”
Eiji slips back into the pool and plants a quick kiss on his cheek. “You love me.”
That, Ash does. Unfortunately, in this case, because Eiji uses it to win every small fake argument. He lets Eiji know his supposed displeasure with a “You can’t always use that against me” and a frown and Eiji, the bastard, ignores him.
“Anyways,” Eiji starts, “you’re a good swimmer. I love you. Better back then though, do you remember when we had to swim across an entire river? You reached the shore in record time, I think.”
“I do,” Ash says, “I remember, I mean. It’s not a good time– or a good thing– but I do.” He recalls Ibe, out of breath and probably the patience to deal with situations Eiji ends up in, and Max knocking him out in one go like it’s nothing, and Shorter, a wound on his head and shaking the water off like a wet, purple dog. He smiles in fondness, but not for long– he’s not willing to let memories consume him on an anniversary trip. He turns back to Eiji and nudges him in the shoulder.
“You’re right, I swam okay, and you , Mr. Jock, passed out the second you got out of the water. What’s with that?”
Eiji raises his hands in surrender, his tone and demeanor still good-humored. “That was the first time I had to shoot, well, try to shoot a man. Cut me some slack!” Ash huffs. Eiji elbows his ribs, only to lean on his shoulders afterwards, and Ash feels strangely at ease.
The setting sun hangs over them like a rabid, hungry watchdog, taking in every breath and beat of the heart. Green dots of light, each one from fishing boats finally setting out to start their ‘day’, line the horizon– there are twenty-two in his line of sight, maybe in the thirties if he counts the grayish-green ones too. Everything is unfamiliar, they’re using Google Translate to get the most basic things done, he is essentially naked in a public pool of a very cheap resort, but it’s alright.
The sun finally sets, after Eiji takes quick pictures of the seconds before it becomes night. He’s going to sleep well.
The hotel room is okay.
The room is done up in more greens and blues than Ash has ever seen in his entire life– a green bedspread with dark blue pillows, a pale blue wall, some painted, sprawling leaves in the ceiling corners. The trash can is green. The bathroom slippers and the mini-fridge are blue. His recollection of hotels– ones that actually deserve being called hotels, that is, because he’s not going to count the numerous nameless room-renting buildings he’s been in– are limited to impossibly white and impossibly suffocating sheets, complete with blank walls and the deceiving smell of sterility, so the colors are a welcome change. He wonders if Eiji booked this resort on purpose– he probably did.
Only, the room is small enough that he feels the colors closing in on him, and as much as he likes staring at the empty Google Doc on his laptop in pretense of having actual thoughts, he’s had enough of it. He takes his coat off the hanger, and Eiji looks up from his phone.
“Are you going outside?”
“Yeah. Do you wanna go for a walk?”
They both end up walking, Ash in a coat and a beanie and Eiji in nothing but his pajama pants and T-shirt. The night is not cold, Ash is not cold– he is not! But the ability to withstand all this 9 p.m. sea breeze without layers is, well, something. Eiji is something. Ash hugs himself tighter around the middle.
There is concrete for approximately ten feet in front of their veranda, but after that there’s only sand, another row of bungalows, and sand with more pebbles. Half of his sandals get buried in the coarse sand with every step, but he enjoys the sensation. The sea roars from below. Ash is glad, not for the first time, that his beanie covers his ears.
Eiji makes his way to a raised platform– the express purpose of which Ash isn’t entirely sure, but he guesses it’s for parties and barbecues– and turns around to smile at him, one foot already on it. “Do you wanna sit here for a while? It’s nice.”
Ash nods, plopping himself down next to Eiji and pulling his legs out to swing them over the gently thrashing waves. He grips the straps of his sandals tighter with his toe– he doesn’t want to lose them to the water below, no matter how shallow it may be.
He looks over at the three concrete steps they had to climb down earlier today to reach the beach. The bottom one is completely submerged. “The water’s risen,” he comments, “didn’t we have to walk, like, at least thirty feet more of sand this evening?”
Eiji hums contentedly. “It stays this way until around six in the morning,” he says, oddly proud like it’s a little-known piece of knowledge he’s managed to uncover after years of research, “but you wouldn’t know, would you? You never wake up early enough.”
Ash grumbles and puts his face in Eiji’s chest. “I’m on vacation!” he cries out. “I’m resting to celebrate our anniversary week. The more well-rested I am, the better a husband I become, yes?”
“You say it like you’ve ever woken up before nine.”
“You’re mean and evil. Weren’t you the one who told me to work less and rest ?”
“I think taking a little morning walk counts as rest,” Eiji says, fingers idly carding through Ash’s hair. “I just think you should glare at your screens like they did something wrong a bit less. How’s writing going, by the way?”
Ash sighs, and finally frees himself from Eiji. “Absolutely horrid,” he admits. “I finished another chapter right before we boarded the plane, but now I’m stuck not knowing where to go from there. I think I have an idea, but I don’t know if it would even work, there’s such a disconnect between where I want to take the story and how it wants to naturally progress.”
“I see,” Eiji says thoughtfully, snaking an arm around his waist to bring him closer. “I’ll read your last chapter tomorrow and tell you what I think as a reader– that’ll be a helpful insight, I hope?”
“Yeah!” Eiji lights up at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, thank you,” Ash continues, “it helps knowing where the reader expects things to go and, you know, sometimes you have to subvert those expectations. Sometimes you play right into them.”
“Hmm, I’ll never know how you make those decisions. But I’m glad it helps.”
They are silent for quite a while. This is their third night here, with not much else to distract them from their surroundings, but Ash doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the incessant, almost insistent, rushing of the sea. It’s like it’s demanding something from, or of, everyone– hear me and find comfort , it seems to say, hear me and be lulled to sleep , or whatever it is that seas like to say. This is nice, Eiji’s hand in his and the faint spray of water hitting the exposed parts of his legs.
Eiji quietly chuckles from beside him. “This is so romantic,” he says in a teasing tone, “I’m pretty sure this dilemma you’re having is about killing off your protagonist. Brutally. And there are mosquitoes.”
“Mosquitoes?” Ash asks, not having noticed them buzzing about until now. “You didn’t wear the repellent lotion I left on the dresser, did you?”
“I never even knew we had that? When did you buy it, anyways?”
“We brought it with us! Or I did because I , at least, know malaria and dengue fever are still a thing here.”
Eiji coos . “You and your big brain. I’ll be dead without you.” He pauses for a moment, a slow frown appearing on his face. “Wait, that’s a bit too accurate for comfort, I think.”
They both burst out laughing. Ash struggles to catch his breath, and Eiji has to cough a few times to stop himself from rolling over, then they smile at each other for the longest time. Just a few years ago and this joke– and all that it alludes to– would have been uncomfortable at best, but here they are. Here they are now. Ash lies down on the cool but scratchy wooden surface, and couldn’t care less about the sand in his hair that he will inevitably have to wash out in the morning.
“I was talking to our tuk-tuk driver today,” Eiji starts, pulling out his phone, “and he said there’s a fishing village near the designated hotel zone– which we’re not in, by the way, so it’s maybe half an hour by foot. I’m gonna take my camera with me because, apparently, “everything’s really blue out there” according to him, and that’s more than good enough for me.” He turns to Ash. “Do you want to come with me? Maybe I can take pictures of you– and us– too.”
Hmm. Maybe he’ll try to get up early for once. Low blood pressure be damned, he’s tagging along with Eiji. To wherever this “really blue” place is.
“Yeah,” he smiles, “yeah, I think I’d love to.”