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The moon hangs over its reflection on still waters. The world is soundless except for the soft crashing of waves onto sand. The night sky plays its usual tricks. Two figures stand on the shore–young, beautiful in the simplicity and optimism of their minds. Kokoro takes off her shoes and socks, feeling the coldness of the sand on her bare skin as she walks slowly. Goro does the same, following after her with the sound of their steps as the melody to the song accompanied by the swell of the sea and the glint of the stars. It was a melody only they could hear, something they’ve heard before that their minds have forgotten but the rhythm of which is ingrained into the cells of their body like a curse or a resonance of sorts. They thought it was fate.
After a few moments of walking, Kokoro stops in her tracks. She turns her head to look up at Goro, who at the time was quite a bit taller than her–she has to tilt her head up ever so slightly to catch a sight of those crimson eyes, now darkened by the veil of the night. Her expression is unreadable, not a smile but not quite a frown either. It is the look of when she has too much on her mind that the cacophony of emotions collide into nothingness. It is neither sadness nor joy. Perhaps it is something closer to love.
“I want to go swimming,” she says, almost a whisper. There is no need to speak any louder. In the stillness of the evening, they could almost hear each others’ breathing.
“Alright,” he nods in agreement. It is early summer, when the waters begin to retain their slight warmth even at nighttime. He has never swam in the ocean before, but in the moment there was really nothing to be said besides the bare minimum. The silence between them is something fragile, something holy that the two of them so rarely experience. Their eyes say it all.
He doesn’t avert his gaze when she undresses, the buttons of her white shirt coming undone to reveal the outline of her breasts, caressed by the silk of the moonlight. Nakedness of the body meant nothing to them when they have already bared the furthest corners of their minds to one another. Yet, he knows to appreciate beauty when he sees it. As the fabric slips off her shoulders, he relishes in the shadows that are cast over her smooth skin and the delicate imprints of bone across her rips and shoulders. She knows he is watching, and disrobes with grace. Slowly, carefully as to not disturb the illusion of serenity that surrounds them, she removes her skirt, and then her undergarments until she is standing before him, clothed in nothing but the night itself. After she finishes, Goro strips himself of his school uniform in the same way–calm, but lacking her boldness to look her the eye while he does so. To him, she is Venus, born of the sea and this moonlight, but he was only a scared boy of sixteen who despised himself more than anything else in the world. He is not shy, but bares himself to her with scorn for his own body. The moon illuminates the lines of scars down his arms and thighs.
Wordlessly, she admires him the same. The scars, the freckles scattered like stars over his skin, the slight trickle of hair over his limbs and between his legs–he was so human. There are no words, no compliment she could give to soothe the loathing he has for his own visage, for she is well aware that all praise goes right over his head. He’s heard it all already and believes not a single word of it. To him, compliments are a strike to the face far harsher and painful than any insult. He has a whole fanbase to sing useless praises in his ear, but there is not a single person in the world that could look at him with such earnestness and understanding as Kokoro does. She sees him, and she sees through him too.
“Come on, I hope the water’s not too cold,” Kokoro laughs before she walks into the sparkling ocean. Her slender limbs disappear under the subtle waves until she is weightless amongst them. He runs in after her. His hand finds hers against the resistance of the water, interlaces their fingers, and he pulls her close to him such that he feels the gentle warmth of her body in contrast to the empty coldness surrounding them. She halfheartedly jokes about him trying to drown her, and he laughs along but does not relent in the way he is holding her against him. Their feet hardly touch the bottom of the water. She wraps an arm around his waist, and they remain like that for several moments–just two fools, innocent in their love and as exposed as they were on the days they were born. For several moments, they are both human, by their own definitions.
-
The night was warm enough for them to not need a towel after emerging from the ocean, not that they had brought one in the first place. They lie on the sand, committed to the impossible task of counting the stars above their heads. Breaking the silence between them, Kokoro retrieves an object wrapped in black paper from the bundle of her discarded clothes and tosses it to Goro. He knows what it’s for, and what spiteful day it was today but still asks anyways as though in disbelief. No one is supposed to care for him.
“What? What’s this for?”
“Come on, open it.” She lies back down beside him, the sand sticking to the dampness of her body.
Hesitant to accept the gift, Goro peels back the paper to reveal a glint of silver. It was a cigarette case, modest in design and simple in its form as she knew he likes his things. He scoffs as he turns it around in his hand.
“This is ridiculous. Birthdays are meaningless.” He tests her with his words, hoping that they would break her heart and make her turn away from him as he believes she should. Instead, she proves him wrong as she does every single time. She smiles.
“You’re alive. That means something to me,” she says. The sentence tastes strange in her mouth. She was not accustomed to speaking in truths, without any deceit or exaggerations. “Open it.”
Goro opens the case and inside is a single cigarette with a handwritten note. He takes it out. In Kokoro’s barely legible, flowing script, it reads “for when you kill him.”
She doesn’t say who. She doesn’t need to. It is a dream of freedom shared between the two of them.