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Moeko couldn’t understand what he was doing wrong. He was inside the Rainbow Boys’ circle of friends just like he had wanted to be, and they were seeming to warm up to him as time went on. So if that’s what he wanted, why wasn’t he happy with it? All of this was a miracle in the first place, but it wasn’t a good enough miracle. He wanted more. More was selfish.
He’d take it, though. Whenever he had to push himself to achieve something he desperately wanted in the past, he would do it. He was going to take what he wanted and not give up just yet. If only the road to it and the waiting wasn’t so damn hard on him. He was bright and angry and so strong like his name implied, which was why he never had wanted to change it. Why change something that already fit you too well? Besides, he’d always have it to remind him of where he started once he finally got to his destination.
Moeko could love whoever the hell he wanted, even if it was another boy like him. Jokichi might understand. He heard the West was somewhat more welcoming than the East, and he dreamed of running away (not running away, something less cowardly-sounding) to there. Logically, he had no business thinking so far ahead with a boy he had barely even met. To outlaw fantasy, however, what would that leave him left with?
“I don’t understand,” Dream-Jokichi would say. “I’m sorry, Moeko…Moeko-san.” Dream-Moeko nodded once in response. “But I want to try and understand.”
“What?” Dream-Moeko breathed.
He swallowed, glancing down at his feet before meeting his eyes. “I care about you, and I don’t want to just forget about you,” he smiled. “I want you no matter who you are, boy or girl. It shouldn’t matter to anyone else when I feel so strongly for you.”
The image disappeared in the smoke before it could properly conclude.
Bin. Gasoline. Match. Flames. Burning. Bright. Bright. Moeko threw his head back and wordlessly roared his feral catharsis up at the sky in a skin that burned hotter than the fire.