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I
Everyone in school was restless, eager to leave school grounds behind for over a month. Reo could feel his own excitement bubbling deep in his stomach.
The day was nearing its end, and Reo was in no rush to get home. It felt as if he had all the time in the world. After all, he was going to be able to spend their entire break with Nagi. He slid his school books into his bag and wrapped the strap around his shoulder. He walked down the busy halls and rounded a familiar corner.
Around the corner, there was a flight of old stairs, and on those stairs there was Nagi. He had his shoulders hunched over and his bag was set carelessly on the floor. Reo walked to the bottom step and took a seat next to Nagi. The phone in Nagi’s hands was held close to his face, but Reo could make out the tiniest smile on Nagi’s face.
Reo wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned in closer. “Ready to go?” he asked. Nagi’s thumbs moved quickly across his screen until his game let him know he won that level. Nagi switched his phone off and nodded. He knocked his head against Reo’s briefly before sluggishly moving to stand up. Reo let Nagi lean against him until he had to bend down to grab both of their bags.
Nagi yawned and trailed after Reo. “Are you all packed?” Reo asked. He looked over his shoulder and waited for Nagi’s reply. “I think so,” Nagi said. Reo rolled his eyes fondly and sighed.
“I’ll check to be sure you have everything,” he said. Nagi gave him a thumbs up and a small smile.
Reo talked for the both of them as they walked towards the front of the school and out of the wide double doors. He opened the door of the car parked, waiting to pick them up. Nagi climbed in first and Reo nodded towards the driver once they both settled in. Reo stretched with a low groan.
“I’m glad it’s finally summer break,” he said. Nagi hummed in agreement.
“Me too,” he said, “especially because it won’t be a boring summer. I’ll get to spend it with you.”
Reo fiddled with his uniform shirt’s button and cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said.
“I’m not surprised you got top of the class,” Nagi continued. He leaned his head back on the headrest of the car and looked at Reo with droopy eyes. “You’re always the best and smartest.”
Reo was used to receiving praise. It was mostly empty compliments that came from the same people in the same dry tone. He was expected to keep his grades up and he was expected to be at his very best every single minute of every single day.
But Nagi never held him to such expectations. He was fine with Reo being Reo, whether that meant being the best of the class or the absolute worst. That was why he felt his cheeks grown warm, he told himself.
II
Reo booked two tickets for the train closest to his house. They were going to ride this train to another station, board the second, and let it lead them to one of the smaller beach houses Reo’s parents owned.
“I’ve never been to a beach,” Nagi said. He sat down next to Reo and slipped his phone out of his pocket.
“Never?” Reo asked. Nagi shook his head and gazed out the window.
When Reo heard Nagi’s stomach grumble, he muffled a quiet laugh with the back of his hand and reached in his overnight bag. He opened the granola bar—the one with too much chocolate to be as healthy as the label claimed it was—and handed it to Nagi.
Nagi thanked him and leaned in closer. When he finished his snack, he stuffed the wrapper in his shirt pocket and rested his head on Reo’s shoulder. Not even twenty minutes into the ride, Nagi was sleeping deeply.
The second ride was shorter than the first. Nagi stayed awake for most of that one, only nodding back off to sleep towards the end. They were almost alone on this train. An older woman sat several seats down and a teenage couple sat at the very end.
Reo took the time to watch Nagi. His messy hair fell over his forehead and his lips were parted slightly, puffing out quiet breaths. His skin was always pale—Reo would have to look after him and make sure his skin wouldn’t burn on the beaches of Kamakura.
The station they were dropped off at was a lot less busy than the one in the heart of Tokyo. The sky was almost blindingly bright and the breeze carried the smell of saltwater and flowers that were in full bloom.
Reo grabbed most of the bags and had Nagi carry one. He pulled out his phone and squinted at the screen. “Hey, Nagi,” he said. Nagi raised his eyebrows and peaked over at the phone. “Help me make sense of these directions.”
The streets of Kamakura were bustling, but with a different life than Reo was used to. Traditional homes lined some of the streets, while small restaurants and shops lined the others. The house that belonged to Reo’s parents was a bit bigger than most of the other houses they passed. It was nestled right by the beach that attracted tourists and locals alike.
Reo grabbed the spare key his dad left for them on the kitchen counter of their place and unlocked the front door. Nagi shuffled in behind him and slid the door shut. They removed their shoes in the genkan and Reo slid his feet into a pair of slippers left for them. Nagi almost always opted to go barefoot.
“Wow,” Nagi mumbled. He took in the soft off-white walls and the various paintings hanging around the main living room. The low couch was a pleasant neutral green and the windows let in so much bright natural light, Nagi had to shield his eyes with his hand.
Reo stared out of the floor length windows and watched the gentle waves of the sea. The view of the water was perfect in a way that made Reo’s chest ache.
He dragged his attention away from the glittering water and focused on the other pretty sight next to him. “Let’s put our things up,” he said.
Nagi looked at him with big eyes and followed behind him quietly. The two bedrooms in the house were right across from each other. When Reo asked which room Nagi wanted, Nagi stared at him blankly.
“Whichever one you sleep in.” He said it as if it was the most obvious and logical answer, which Reo supposed, it probably was.
They dumped their bags in the closet to be unpacked later. Nagi lay sprawled out on the large futon. He watched Reo pull off his thin flannel and hang it in the closet. He watched him tie up his hair, and he watched as his shirt lifted up just enough to reveal a small sliver of smooth skin.
Reo turned around right as Nagi’s stomach growled. He grinned crookedly and said, “I’ll order something to eat. We can go shopping for food tomorrow.”
When their food arrived, Nagi had pretty much grown roots. He only moved to grab his takeout box from Reo and to make room for him to sit next to him. Reo sipped at his ramen broth and pointed his chopsticks at Nagi. “You better not spill anything on this futon,” he said sternly.
Nagi finished his bite and poked Reo’s cheek. “I won’t,” he said.
By the time the sun sunk down in the sky, Reo was full and comfortable and sleepy. He was dressed down in an old sweatshirt and plaid pants, laying comfortably on Nagi’s chest.
Some action movie played in the background and Nagi hummed along to the tune of whatever game he was playing on his phone. Nagi was warm and the ceiling fan blew cool air through his hair and across his face. He didn’t remember falling asleep; only the feeling of pure and utter comfort.
III
Sometimes the domesticity of staying at the seaside home with Nagi made Reo’s brain stop working completely. The simple things made him want to crawl in a hole and die, because there was no way he could handle such chest-aching, heart-fluttering, raw feelings for most of the summer.
Waking up with Nagi’s arm around him made his heart pound against his ribcage. He slept like a giant, human shaped rock and radiated heat like a furnace. Reo would allow himself a few minutes of staying this close to Nagi before he’d crawl out of bed.
He'd wander into the kitchen, start a kettle for tea and wait just a few more minutes. Nagi would always emerge from the room and shuffle down the hallway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
They spent most of their first two days lounging around the house. Tiredness still stuck to Reo’s body, but he was eager to get out and breathe in the saltwater air. He made them both a simple breakfast he knew he couldn’t burn and picked out an outfit for himself and Nagi.
Nagi took a sip of tea from Reo’s mug and pointed to one of his sweaters Reo tossed on the floor. “I wanna wear that one.”
Reo raised an eyebrow and fixed Nagi with a look. Are you serious?
“It’s way too hot for that,” Reo said. He found a thinner shirt and held it up. “This one?”
Nagi shrugged and caught the shirt when Reo tossed it to him. Reo grabbed his own clothes and tossed his pajamas back on the futon to wear again. His eyes did not linger on the muscles of Nagi’s abdomen when he lifted his shirt over his head. They changed in front of each other all the time.
Reo bit the inside of his cheek and ripped his gaze away when Nagi pulled his pants down.
Before they left the house, Reo held Nagi still and rubbed sunscreen on his cheeks and nose. Nagi tried to bat his hand away and Reo chastised him like his own mother used to do to him.
“You know you burn easily,” he said. Nagi huffed but let Reo finish.
This seaside town was beautiful in its simplicity. The shops sold art pieces and pretty jewelry, often hand crafted from the shells found on the beach. They ate at a restaurant with better udon than any other restaurant Reo had been to.
Nagi let Reo drag him around, just as he always did. When they stopped at the third shop of the day, Nagi dangled matching keychains in front of Reo’s face. They were little jellyfish, one purple with small specks of sea glass and the other white with little pearls.
“They’re our colors,” Nagi said. Right then, Rep thought Nagi looked the cutest he ever has.
And because Nagi wanted them, Reo got them, of course.
Their last stop that day was a local shrine tucked away, surrounded by tall trees and busy people waiting for their chance to pray and light incense. It was peaceful. Looking at the old architecture made Reo wonder why his parents spent a fortune on the seemingly meaningless paintings they hung all over their houses and estates.
The shrines and temples and sea were like art pieces themselves. He would have liked to capture their beauty and hold it close right then and there.
Reo tugged on Nagi’s sleeve and waited behind a woman while she washed her hands and mouth at the water pavilion. When she walked away, Nagi grabbed the ladle and scooped up some of the clear water. Reo cocked his head and watched as Nagi poured a little bit of water over each hand and rinsed his mouth out. Reo followed the movements, looking at the way Nagi’s lips didn’t touch the ladle directly but parted slightly and used some of the leftover water cupped in his left hand.
Reo inched closer and grabbed the ladle hesitantly. “How do you know what to do?” he asked.
“My mom’s side of the family owns a small shrine,” Nagi said. “I would go with my mom when I was younger.”
Sometimes, simple things like that made Reo’s throat close up and his words got stuck in a giant lump that he couldn’t seem to swallow. He tells himself he doesn’t feel this way because it’s something he would have loved as a child. It’s not.
Reo pinched the side of his leg. He had to live in the now. And right here, Nagi is his now.
IV
Looking at the sea, Reo was convinced it would be able to swallow him whole. He would drown if he went too deep, but he would probably drown this summer without the water’s help. Because being with Nagi was almost as overwhelming as the salty water trying to climb in his mouth and into his lungs.
Nagi was like the sea—in his own way. Pretty, eye catching, intense in a graceful sort of way.
Reo looked up and held his hand out over his eyes. The sun always seemed brighter here. Nagi was squatting in the sand, poking at something. Reo lifted himself up and brushed away the little bit of sand that got on his swim trunks from his beach towel.
Nagi looked up when Reo’s tall shadow fell over him. He cupped his hands and cradled something close to his chest. Reo looked over and his eyes widened.
“Cute,” he said quietly.
Nagi held his hands out and let the sun hit the brightly colored hermit crab he found. Reo stared at its beady little eyes and admired the pretty purplish-blue on its legs and claws.
“Can we keep it?” Nagi asked with wide eyes. Reo laughed loudly at Nagi’s puppy-dog eyes. “Of course we can’t,” he said with a shake of his head. Nagi pouted and stroked the back of the crab’s curled shell. Nagi was so perfect he wanted to cry.
Reo decided he loved the beach, and so did Nagi. They spent hours in front of their little getaway house—too many, Reo realized. When they packed up for the day, Nagi was horribly red all over. His shoulders were physically warm to the touch and his face was almost permanently flushed.
Reo apologized when Nagi winced at his touches. “I’ll get better sunscreen,” he said, stifling a slight giggle. Nagi kicked off his swim trunks and threw on a pair of underwear—Reo hoped they were clean; Nagi was awful when it came to laundry.
“I’ll get some aloe vera,” Reo said. Nagi was laying face down on their futon and grumbled some muffled response Reo couldn’t understand.
Reo grabbed the small jar of aloe gel they picked up at the market nearby and made his way back to their room. He changed into dry clothes and told Nagi to stay face down.
He lowered himself until he was straddling Nagi’s hips and scooped some of the gel out of the jar.
He spread it between his fingers to try and warm it up before he began to smooth it across Nagi’s burned skin. Nagi groaned and kicked a foot out. Reo shushed him and pushed him back down gently.
“If I don’t put this on, it’ll hurt longer, so hush,” Reo said.
The intimacy of something so simple, something most people wouldn’t get hung up on, Reo’s sure, did something to him. It was a terrifying feeling. Nagi smelled like sand and sun and Reo wanted to run. But it was his job to take care of Nagi. So he stayed.
V
When he was younger, growing up never seemed so scary. He wasn’t sure what love was, exactly. His parents weren’t very good role models. He knew love came with mutual understandings and communication, not with scathing words and screaming matches. So, no, he wouldn’t think about his parents’ version of “love.”
But Reo didn’t know it was supposed to hurt so bad. Nagi was perfect and pretty and Reo’s emotions were too much, even if Nagi was simply sitting there. His feelings threatened to burst out of his chest and strangle both him and Nagi.
So when Nagi reached down and casually threaded his fingers through Reo’s, Reo froze. Nagi’s hand was big and warm when it tugged at his. Nagi looked over his shoulder innocently, like he wasn’t the single cause of these crushing thoughts and feelings Reo had. They buzzed through his head like cicadas and Reo was convinced they would drive him crazy.
He shook his head and mumbled, “sorry, I spaced out for a second.” Nagi just nodded and continued walking. He didn’t let go of Reo’s hand.
Surely having Nagi draped over his body every single night like a human blanket couldn’t be good for Reo’s health. (Or maybe it was way too good for his health). His hands nearly started shaking when soft lips touched the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure if Nagi was awake and purposely making Reo panic, or if he was asleep and completely and blissfully unaware.
“Reo,” Nagi whispered. Reo stiffened slightly before forcing his body to relax.
“Hm?” he hummed.
Nagi said nothing for a few seconds. Then, “I’m gonna miss this.”
Reo turned around in Nagi’s arms until his nose was almost touching Nagi’s. “What do you mean?” Reo asked. He knew. He hoped he knew. But he would rather die than say it himself, because if Nagi was thinking about something completely different, Reo couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t lock himself in the bathroom and cry alone.
Nagi furrowed his brows. “This. Us, I guess,” he said. He seemed to be digging deep to search for the right words, and if Reo’s heart didn’t feel like it was two seconds away from beating up and out of his throat, he might have laughed.
“I like being here with you,” Nagi finally said. Reo felt his cheeks grow warm.
“I do too,” Reo said. If either one of them spoke above a whisper, the thin blanket of comfort that covered them might be yanked away cruelly.
Nagi closed his eyes and his breathing was steady and slow. Reo wasn’t sure if the feeling in his chest now was relief or disappointment. Then, Nagi opened his eyes again.
“I think I like it here because I’m with you,” he said. Reo nearly choked on his own spit.
Reo moved in closer. His brain full of cicadas began to buzz again. When they left in a few days, would everything go back to normal? Would their domestic bubble burst suddenly in his face, leaving him with soapy remnants of a dream-like summer spent with Nagi?
Soon, they would leave this little oasis and go back to the loud buzz of the big city. And sooner than he’d ever be ready for, they would graduate. If Nagi stayed with him after their break, would he leave once they no longer saw each other in class everyday? Those thoughts were definitely the worst by far.
Reo tried his best to shove them all down; bury them deeper and deeper until they couldn’t see the light of day, ever.
“Reo,” Nagi said again. He kissed the nape of Reo’s neck twice more. Reo shivered.
“You should kiss me.” Reo slapped a hand over his mouth and the embarrassment threatened to drown him for good.
“Okay,” Nagi said.
Reo blinked and lowered his hand. He looked at Nagi and waited for him to start laughing. This was probably a joke. Reo could deal with a joke—probably. He didn’t think he could handle Nagi’s lips on his. But Nagi pressed closer, anyway. His lips were soft and Reo was dumped into a cold tub of realization.
He pressed his mouth more firmly against Nagi and twisted his freshly washed hair in his fingers. “Oh,” Nagi said when they parted. Reo did laugh this time. It wasn’t a laugh of mockery. It was one of understanding.
VI: pretty, simple things
Reo would say waving goodbye to the beach and the warmth and the peace was bittersweet, but it wasn’t. It just tasted bitter. Their little bubble would soon pop once more.
He and Nagi hadn’t really talked about that night. They didn’t really need to. Things always progressed wordlessly and quietly with them. Reo had grown used to that. Reo walked through the house, checking behind Nagi, and making sure they wouldn’t leave anything behind. He grabbed his jellyfish keychain and hooked it on the belt loop of his baggy pants.
Nagi was carrying his single bag and stood facing the beach. “Ready?” Reo asked when he locked the front door. Nagi looked over his shoulder with a slight smile and nodded.
On the train ride back, Nagi held Reo’s hand.
“How do you know you love someone?”
It was the day before they had to return to their mundane life of stressful school when Nagi asked the ceiling. He was laying on Reo’s bed, feet propped up on the wall and head hanging over the edge.
Reo raised an eyebrow from his desk chair. “I dunno,” he said honestly. “I guess you go in blindly with your heart out, or something.”
Nagi flexed his toes on the wall and stared at the ceiling some more. “I think I love you, then,” Nagi said.
Reo looked down at his desk’s smooth surface. How? Why?
He looked up and tilted his head so they were both staring at the ceiling. He forced the lump of words down his throat. He thought of the sea and the sand and the crab and the sky. “Yeah,” Reo said.
He did his best to silence the swarm of cicadas in his head. “I think I love you, too.”