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JANUARY
Countless sensations rush into you. You have nowhere to hold them. No framework yet exists within you that allows you to quantify the existence of time itself, let alone how long it takes before you're able to process things in the form of senses, thoughts, feelings, or words. On base instinct you begin to repair your vessel's neural structures — the dorsal column-medial lemniscus pathway, the retinohypothalamic tract, the cerebral peduncle, the arcuate fasciculus, the corpus callosum — with no understanding that you're doing it at all.
It won't be until later that you can conceptualize things like up or down, hot or cold, safety or danger. You are vaguely aware that you've been stretched to fill three dimensions, but you don't know what you've filled them with. You know that you have a body without being aware that it is a body and that it is made up of countless parts, each with their own names and functions.
You cannot see, hear, smell, taste, or feel — but you exist. You're the only thing that does.
Until you aren't. The presence of warmth leads you to the understanding that you were cold. The distant awareness of the presence of another being enables you to understand that you were alone. The sensation of hands cupping your face — soon drowned out and forgotten — demonstrates to you for the first time that there is a place where your existence ends and everything else in existence begins. In a single moment, infinite possibilities of you collapse into one sharp, dense point, and you become yourself.
MARCH
You and six others — three male, three female — arrange yourselves on cushions on the floor around the central table of your home's living area. Despite regular interaction with all of them over the last two months you sometimes still struggle to recall some of their names, but they've all been very forgiving of your circumstances. Gaps you fail to consistently fill in are graciously handwaved as the result of a traumatic brain injury — you hit your head very hard while you were up on the mountain, after all.
When it comes to the oldest of the two you're off the hook: "mama" and "gramps" come to you easily. One of the girls — Asako? — visited you frequently while you were in the hospital; the content of your conversations was and is inconsequential to you, but her animation and enthusiasm made the time pass faster. You remember Maki's name only because it's regularly used to scold him. Everything about the other girl is still lost on you entirely.
And then there's Yoshiki.
Yoshiki is sixteen years old — like you, kind of — but he'll be seventeen exactly a month from now. At your last school physical he came in at 54 kilograms and 175 centimeters tall. He's got a big appetite but struggles to keep food down. He likes all kinds of animals, bugs, shounen manga, chasing after frogs, weird food, and watching YouTube videos of people fighting each other in public places. He dislikes being told to cut his bangs, talking to his parents, people who comment on his accent, and doing his English homework. He thinks his moles are ugly, but you disagree. He's in charge of the photography club but half the time he skips it and just reads alone in the study room instead. He wants to leave the village, but you aren't going to let him. You always bike home from school together. Yoshiki is your best friend.
He doesn't like sweets, which is unlucky for him today.
On the table between you all is a cake. Its been messily iced with white frosting and six fresh strawberries sit neatly spaced from each other in a circle on top; sixteen lit candles are arranged in the middle.
Everyone sings a song just for you. You were looking forward to this part — the lyrics aren't very interesting, but music is stimulating and exciting. Asako(?) claps along. You watch Yoshiki's mouth form the words, but he sings so quietly; if you weren't right next to him you probably wouldn't be able to hear him at all. His voice is so lovely — you don't understand why he doesn't speak up — but you're secretly glad you're the only one who gets to hear it.
Hikaru's mama tells you to make a wish; you've already got everything you want, but you're starting to understand the importance of keeping up appearances. You smile and act like you're thinking for a few seconds before finally blowing out the candles. She takes a knife to it once, twice, revealing two layers separated by a thick mixture of more strawberries and whipped cream.
Everybody but Hikaru's gramps gets a piece — he's on a special diet now since he's so old — but he doesn't really understand what's going on anymore, so he doesn't feel left out.
He'd almost caused some problems for you initially. When you first came down from the mountain he was the only one that knew something was off, but Hikaru's mama didn't put much stock in it since his mind is slipping. You didn't have to tap him very hard for him to forget, and you didn't really want to do it anyway. His soul is vast, but dim and weathered; there's no appeal in it for you.
The cake is seriously tasty! You love sweets. By the time you've finished your serving he's only eaten the strawberry off the top of his and has taken to spreading the rest of it around with his fork. You cheekily swap your empty plate with his full one; he acts like he's annoyed, but you know he's secretly glad for it.
All you want is for things to stay like this forever. You're so happy. You're so, so happy.
JULY
Going to get food with Yoshiki might be your favorite thing ever. Getting to eat food and spend time with Yoshiki at the same time is so fun that sometimes it almost feels like too much. He's gotten himself his go-to — pickled plum rice balls (nasty as hell) — and you're finally having the strawberry sandwich everybody has been raving about. You've been wanting to try it for a while now but you burn through the money your mama gives you way too quick...
"Man, this is so good... maybe even better than the mincemeat cutlet." Damn... now you want to eat the mincemeat cutlet again. Yoshiki would probably front you the cash for it if you asked but your mama is expecting you home soon. Your bike has a flat again so you guys are walking home — you're already going to be late for dinner, but spending more time with Yoshiki is never a bad thing. If you didn't have to go home you don't think you'd do it at all. "So good... seriously... tastes like birthday cake."
"All ya talk about is food..."
"Can ya blame me? Food's damn good."
"It's just strawberries and whipped cream between some bread slices. You'd probably put back a bowl of straight sugar if it was offered to ya..."
"Ya reckon I should try it?"
"No way."
Where does your mama keep the sugar again? On top of the fridge? You take another bite of your sandwich; it's sweet, but it's nice and light too. You don't understand how anybody could dislike it, but that's one of the most interesting things about humans — they're all so different.
"Yanno... I've been thinkin'."
"Don't hurt yerself," you interject.
"Comin' from you of all people..."
You joke, but you guess you feel a little... uneasy? Putting words to these things is still pretty hard... all you know is that part of you wants to delay this conversation, but another part of you wants to hurry up and know what's going on.
"Whatcha been thinkin' about?"
"Yer not Hikaru."
For just a second you pause everything — even chewing. It's been weird enough figuring everything out for yourself without this complication popping up and talking about it is still new and confusing for you. This could seriously be a worst case scenario. You make yourself swallow.
"Yeah... sorry."
"I told ya to quit apologizin'."
You don't know what else to do, so you just stay quiet.
"A few months back, when we celebrated yer birthday... it was Hikaru's. Not yours."
"Now thatcha mention it... I guess that's true..."
You feel like you've done something wrong. Until Yoshiki first broached the subject with you, you didn't think about it at all... you've just been happy to be here. You didn't do it on purpose — you didn't even know you were doing it — you didn't know it was bad... but you've been lying all this time. It's only natural that he's still thinking about it... that he's still upset.
Yoshiki is the most important person in the world. He accepted you. He knows what you are and he accepted you anyway...
Maybe it's too good to be true. It felt so good that it didn't feel real. You don't want him to be mad at you. If he hated you, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself. You don't know what this feeling is, but you can't stand it.
"Yours woulda been—" he hesitates, "a little more than six months ago. So I guess I was just wonderin' if ya wanted to do somethin'."
"Whattaya mean?"
"Fer yer birthday— or yer half-birthday. It's a little late, but..."
It's not until he trails off that you realize tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes.
You didn't know this was a subject that was weighing on you until he called you out in the first place. The relief you felt at being seen — for yourself; for the monster that you are — you never could have anticipated it. Being able to talk to someone about your existence was something you would've denied yourself forever if you'd had the choice, so why does it feel so good?
It's lucky that the sun is setting. Every shadow cast at this time of day is stark black against the rest of the environment and it makes it just a little easier to hide your face. It's still hard to read Yoshiki's expressions sometimes but he always starts acting so strange when you cry; you want to stop doing it but your body just does it on its own without your permission. Yoshiki's so kind to you — way more kind than you deserve — and you just keep doing stuff that makes things harder on him. You really are something detestable.
"Man, don't go scarin' me like that... I really thought the jig was up for a sec..."
"Why? I already told ya. It's better fer me if yer around... so..."
"I don't need anythin' else from ya, really. I'm already so happy... I'm seriously the happiest thing alive."
You mop your face with your sleeve and look over at him but he doesn't meet your eyes. Instead he's looking off into the distance, past the rice paddies and over the distant roofs to the mountain over yonder. In about fifteen minutes the sun will disappear behind it, but you don't have to worry about walking home in the dark; if there's anything in the world that thinks it could bring harm to either of you, you're ready and capable of proving it wrong.
"Well... just give it some thought."
"Yeah. I will." He didn't have to tell you to do that much — you'll be thinking about it forever.
LATER
"Man, Mr. Hara is such an ass. What kinda teacher springs a pop quiz right before finals?"
"Yeah..."
"He looked way too happy about it, too..." He's not a bad guy, but that smug face he makes pisses you off.
"Whatever, I don't even wanna think about it anymore. Let's go back to my place n' play Super Maruo or somethin'."
You smile at the idea. It's not an experience that you lived personally, but you're still able to recall the fake Super Maruo stage Hikaru and Yoshiki drew on the wall of the dilapidated shack out in the woods. Since it was something they made together, the distant feeling of running your finger through the level sticks out to you even more fondly than memories of playing the game itself.
Another memory springs to mind — and then another.
"Actually... now thatcha mention it... I was wonderin'. I know it's kinda late, but... can I still cash in on the birthday thing?"
"Nah. Yer outta luck."
"Aw..."
"Whattaya wanna do?"
"I was hopin' we could go back to the ol' storage shed... if that's okay."
Yoshiki's expression doesn't change, but he stays quiet for a while.
"Why?"
"I just wanna... pay my respects, I guess? Somethin' like that."
Another few seconds pass quietly. Eventually he depresses the hand brake on his bike and gets to turning around. You follow suit.
"Sure. Let's swing by the store."
"How come?"
"To get some incense," he says, voice flat and steady. "If yer gonna do it, do it right."
The makeshift grave isn't set up anything like the one for Hikaru's dad. Instead of a proper marker there are just two rocks stacked on top of each other. Unlike the grave for Crowly right beside it, it doesn't even have Hikaru's name on it.
For a moment you think it's even weirder to be visiting a grave that doesn't have a body to go with it — but that's not actually true, is it? Not right now.
There's nowhere to properly put your incense, so you stick it unceremoniously out of the ground. You feel bad — and in a second, you feel even worse.
"Hey, Yoshiki... didja bring a lighter?"
"... No." Damn.
Even in the middle of summer it takes you both a good twenty minutes of combined effort to get a fire going. Yoshiki's not that keen with all of his survival skills; Hikaru was, but you got much more of his knowledge than his muscle memory. With a couple hearty sticks, some twine from the jar in the corner of the shed, and an embarrassing amount of physical effort that leaves Yoshiki red in the face and limp in the arms, you eventually manage to spark up some dry grass on top of a log. It doesn't stick around for very long but fortunately you only needed it for a second anyway.
You're lucky you don't have to breathe. The incense fills up the small space in a matter of minutes and leaves the place reeking to high hell. The smoke isn't too bad but the smell alone leaves Yoshiki posted up against the wall right next to the threshold trying not to throw up. Maybe you should've just gone home with him after all.
The incense is already lit — and you went to so much trouble to light it — so you guess you're stuck. You wanted to be here, and here you are.
You don't really know what to do.
You can't make yourself feel sad. You keep trying and trying... but no matter how much you think about it, it just doesn't work. Even though you've been told over and over that it's sad when somebody's dead you just can't make your brain do the right thing.
And how could you?
You're spending time with Yoshiki, and it's so nice out; he hates the heat and humidity, but for you it's just right. Hot and cold weather are both such interesting sensations to you... the more extreme the better. You like the feeling of the numbness in your fingers when it gets too cold, and the way the breeze feels extra good on your skin when it gets real hot.
The cicadas are singing real loud and soon the frogs will start chiming in too. The way the breeze ruffles the leaves on the trees out here never gets old to you no matter how many times you hear it. The incense smells bad, but it's different than the kind your mama got when she brought you to see Kouhei, and you're excited for new experiences even when they don't feel good. Learning what you like and dislike is fun.
You got to eat a real good sandwich today and you're already thinking about asking Yoshiki to get you another one tomorrow. After this you'll probably head back to his place and play a video game or something, and Kaoru will greet you real sweetly, and if you're real slick they'll probably let you stay over since it's getting late anyway. You'll get to wear one of Yoshiki's shirts and sleep on his floor and tomorrow you'll walk to school together, and when the school day is over you'll get back to having fun all over again.
Yeah... you can't make yourself feel sad. You really can't.
Actually, that's why you wanted to come here in the first place, wasn't it?
You're not sad... you're not sad at all.
Thank you, Hikaru. Thank you for dying. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.