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“Ugh…” Hikaru bit on the stick of the candy apple he’d just finished eating, frustration building up inside him. “I wanted to play katanuki…”
Not without a pout, Hikaru tossed the now empty stick into the plastic bag with the rest of the trash.
Hikaru had, as usual, the memories of the original Hikaru, but those memories never compared to the actual experience. Having played shateki, yo-yo tsuri and kingyo-sukui last time with Yoshiki and Kaoru had been so much fun, Hikaru had looked forward to trying out different stalls next time.
Admittedly, not being able to play katanukigashi might have been for the best, because Hikaru knew he wouldn’t resist taking a nibble. Why did humans insist on making things that were supposedly inedible smell so delicious and look so appetizing? It was the same with those bar soaps. Why call something ‘diecut candy’ if you weren’t meant to eat it?
By Hikaru’s side, Yoshiki hummed softly in acknowledgement. “Wonder why’s there no stall.”
Feeling vindicated, Hikaru replied with a “Right?!”, raising his voice a couple of notches. Katanukigashi was the stall that had caught his attention during the Houko festival too but, back then, the hole was a more important—and urgent—matter.
“Actually…” Yoshiki took another bite out of his ikayaki. “How are ya feelin’?”
Hikaru, confused at the sudden change of topic, turned to face Yoshiki, who watched him attentively. “Huh?”
“Ain’t you strugglin’? Does it… hurt?”
Hikaru looked away and turned his gaze to the crowd just a few meters below them, sprawled on the grass by the riverside as they waited for the firework show to start.
Yoshiki’s concerns weren’t unfounded: the last time Hikaru’d been cut, losing control had come far too easily.
“Don’t think so. I’m doin’ fine. Though my neck’s a lil’ prickly... Maybe ‘cuz I got it cut twice?” Hikaru rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe my head’s gonna fall off next time I jump or somethin’!” he joked with a cheeky grin.
Yoshiki let out a sigh then squeezed Hikaru’s hand. Hikaru looked down, where their hands were joined. He hasn’t let go since…
“If yer doing fine… That’s good,” Yoshiki simply said.
Half-aware, Hikaru watched the crowd beneath them as they threw their hands into the sky, several voices rising in a collective countdown in a mix of excitement and impatience.
“I reckon… That company did somethin’ to me so I ain’t…”
Hikaru couldn’t help but glance at Yoshiki’s backpack, where he kept Hichi-san.
They both knew the bitter truth: there was always a chance that Hikaru would lose control and make Yoshiki his target. That hadn’t changed. Impurities, holes… None of it had ever been as dangerous to Yoshiki as Hikaru himself.
And, so long as Hikaru he remained in this world, Yoshiki wasn’t the only one at danger.
“If that company wanted ya to work fer ‘em, that’d make sense. Just like—”
A sizzling sound cut Yoshiki off mid-sentence.
The two boys turned toward the noise just as the crowd burst into clapping and cheering. Hikaru, just as excited, shook Yoshiki’s hand—and his whole arm with it.
“Ah, it’s startin’ it’s startin’!”
Three trails of light rose into the sky and exploded into sparkling bouquets, washing the people and the landscape below them in color. Another shriek followed, and a new streak of light shot upward, higher this time, cutting through the darkness like a bright serpent before bursting into an enormous red flower.
“Wonder why’s called kamuro… It don’t look like short hair at all?” Hikaru mused out loud.
The red flower’s sparks turned golden, lingering for a couple of beats before trailing down in long ribbons and fading into the darkness. Smaller fireworks of different colors followed, glittering where the great bloom had just been.
“Wait, I didn’t see that,” Hikaru straightened his posture, his eyes darting through the sky. “There’s too many ‘f them goin’ on! Was that like a donut? Or a spiral, like a snail’s shell?”
Finally done with his ikayaki, Yoshiki reached out to grab the plastic bag. “’T was more like a donut, I think.”
“D’you reckon there’s funny shaped fireworks too? Like that butt-building we saw before?”
Hikaru expected a huff, or a complaint, but Yoshiki did neither of those things. “I’d hope not.”
A light stirred in the night again, this time exploding into three green fireworks that looked like the palm trees that Hikaru had only seen in pictures from Okinawa and Miyazaki.
Hikaru watched in silence as more fireworks lit up the sky, painting it with different shapes and colors, and at the same time putting aside the memories of the real Hikaru for his own.
“Fireworks are so pretty…” Hikaru couldn’t help but say out loud.
This show was far more impressive than the sparklers they’d light in his house before. Hikaru almost couldn’t tear his eyes away, afraid he might miss something.
Yoshiki hummed at his side in acknowledgement.
“But y’know. It ain’t just pretty. There’s the contamination, the accidental fires, and the noise stressing the animals. That’s why some countries are replacing ‘em with lanterns and lasers.”
“Ah… That so…”
Right. I’m here getting’ all the fun, even put on this yukata, but Yoshiki is…
A storm of colors rained down on them, newer fireworks never letting the smoke of the previous fireworks to clear out.
“I heard they use drones in Tokyo too, but they just mix ‘em in with the fireworks. That ain’t no replacement.”
Hikaru tore his eyes away from the sky and looked at Yoshiki’s face, illuminated by the colors spilling across the sky. Now that Yoshiki had cut his hair, Hikaru could see all of his face, without the bangs getting in the way.
He liked it.
Yet, rather than staring at his face, Hikaru’s eyes trailed downwards—To Yoshiki’s chest, there where his soul shone, brighter than any fireworks.
Yoshiki’s was the most beautiful soul that Hikaru had ever seen. A soul that was part his, too: a mixed soul.
“If yer looking at me, you’ll miss the fireworks,” Yoshiki spoke, still watching the fireworks. “And ya wanted to see them, right?”
Hikaru ran his tongue over his front teeth before answering. “I did… But…”
But Kaoru should be there with them, just like she was before, Hikaru couldn’t help but think. Because Kaoru was actually there, at the festival, only not with them.
“What is it?” Yoshiki asked with a sigh, a hint of worry in his voice, just as his face briefly glowed golden in the light of a new firework.
“I’m sorry,” Hikaru said.
Yoshiki didn’t say anything. More fireworks exploded above them, but Hikaru ignored them, his gaze fixed on the ground. People continued cheering, clearly impressed by the display.
Then, suddenly, Yoshiki’s bruised hand tightened around Hikaru’s, like a lifeline.
There was no memory of Yoshiki holding hands with the real Hikaru, and Hikaru liked that, liked that this was a gesture entirely Yoshiki and his, lost in the sea of memories that Yoshiki had with the real Hikaru.
But, as much as Hikaru liked it, he also knew that Yoshiki would have never done this under any other circumstances. Not in public, where the other villagers could see and judge him.
“What’re ya apologizing for now?”
“’Cuz… Ain’t it like me?” Hikaru pointed at himself with his free hand. “Not all that good. The fireworks.”
Yoshiki was everything to Hikaru, but Yoshiki had so many more things besides Hikaru.
Or, at least, he used to.
When Yoshiki had approached his family, happily laughing in front of one of the food stalls, none of them recognized him. Satoko and Kaoru fixed him with wary glares. Toshinori stepped forward, suspicion written across his face as he asked who Yoshiki was.
As if Yoshiki didn’t have his father’s moles mapped all over his skin.
As if Yoshiki wasn’t the vivid image of his mother.
As if Yoshiki’s accent didn’t scream Kubitachi.
It didn’t matter. None of it did because, much like Udeiri and the area southeast of Kibougayama had been swallowed by the holes and forgotten, Yoshiki’s existence had been wiped away as if he’d never existed in the first place.
Yoshiki had excused himself with a nod and a quiet apology, mumbling that he had mistaken the group for someone else, grabbed Hikaru’s hand, and left. Hikaru didn’t need to ask why they hadn’t looked for their friend group afterwards.
By his side, Hikaru felt Yoshiki shift, obscuring his expression with the hand that wasn’t holding his—the one that wasn’t marked by the mixing.
Hikaru wanted Yoshiki to speak, say something, break the silence, but Yoshiki didn’t. And Hikaru couldn’t blame him. This was all his fault. This what was Kurebayashi, Hikaru thought as he felt a pang somewhere in chest, had warned him that he should not let happen.
“The monster goes away, you accept Hikaru’s death, and you move forward with yer life as a human being. You all live happily ever after. That’d be the best endin’.”
He really should have gone back to Nisayama. That way, none of this would have happened.
Hikaru pressed the palm of his hand against his eyesock. His insides wriggled inside. He pressed harder.
In his desire to understand humans better, Hikaru often borrowed, and occasionally bought with his pocket money, picture books. What he’d found was that, in many foreign fairy tales, human love was often the key to breaking the curse tied to the monster. Love would transform them, would make them human, and the two of them would be in love, living happily ever after.
Often, but not always. Hikaru had found another type of story in those foreign books, one where the creature wasn’t originally human. In those, the fate of the creature was darker. A mermaid that made a contract with a witch, and lost her life because she didn’t win the prince’s love by turning into seafoam at sunrise; a white snake whose true nature was revealed after she married, and who was then whisked away and imprisoned, separated from her husband forever.
Hikaru didn’t have better luck with Japanese tales and myths. After reading about the crane wife that left her husband after he discovered her secret, Hikaru gave up on finding a story where both the human and the creature could be happy.
Finally calmed, or perhaps just resigned, Hikaru let out a sigh, lowering his arm to stare at his palm. Those kinda feelings are already impossible fer me anyway…
Hikaru would never be human, Yoshiki and him weren’t in love, and this was no best ending: Yoshiki had lost everything by being with him, including his humanity.
He really should have known best, Hikaru thought, making a fist.
The sudden sound of Yoshiki’s soft laugh brought Hikaru back to reality.
Hikaru turned to Yoshiki, eyebrows furrowed in worry. It was the first time that Hikaru heard him laugh in the whole day.
“Hikaru… Yer getting things wrong again.”
Before Hikaru managed to say something, more fireworks went off, throwing Yoshiki’s smiling face into light. There was no trace of tears or sadness in them.
“It ain’t all bad,” Yoshiki closed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, still smiling. “The way ain’t nobody gossipin’ and judging me… ’S kinda freeing.”
Hikaru stared, stunned, as Yoshiki let go of his hand to pat his head instead.
Hikaru thought of the Yoshiki who had stared back at him so many times before with fear drawn all over his face, ever since that meeting at the hospital a little over half a year ago. Of the Yoshiki who always seemed to be trying as hard as possible not to let anyone notice his presence. Of the Yoshiki who had touched his insides, then wiped his hand on his clothes right after.
“I don’t dislike your insides either, y’know... Not anymore.”
Right. Yoshiki had changed. When did he change so much?
“I know I’m no good at opening up, but… Kubitachi ain’t my place. It never was. ‘Course, I love my family, but…” Yoshiki paused. “Truth is, if it weren’t thanks to ya… Maybe I’d have always been too scared ‘f everything ta leave.”
Above them, more fireworks were shot into the sky in perfect sequence, bursting into a rain of silver and making everything around them glow brightly.
“Hikaru,” Yoshiki said, voice impossibly soft as the colors of the fireworks reflected on his eyes. He leaned in, bumping his forehead against Hikaru’s. “Don’t worry ‘bout these things. We can just go anywhere we want now. Let’s start over, just you and me.”
“I want to go somewhere far away with you, and travel around, seein’ lots of different sights. I want to be free,” Yoshiki had told Hikaru not long ago, a time already felt like ages.
A life with Yoshiki, somewhere they didn’t know them, somewhere where they could simply be themselves, unbound by the expectations of being “Yoshiki Tsujinaka” and “Hikaru Indou”.
Hikaru’s lips moved without thinking. “Is that really okay?” he whispered, hopeful.
Yoshiki just sat back, still smiling. “Say, wanna head out to that huge bakery with the first train?”
Hikaru blinked, once, twice, before his lips broke into a shy smile. “Haha… Yer always treatin’ me too well, Yoshiki—”
Hikaru froze, his eyes fixed on Yoshiki’s smartphone after Yoshiki unlocked it.
Yoshiki had switched the picture of his family’s pug with one that Asako took when they’d lit sparklers outside of the Indou house: a shot in which Hikaru smiled at the camera as he made an infinity symbol with them.
Ah, right. It’s not over yet, Hikaru thought as Yoshiki opened the browser and looked into train tickets. This might not be a happy ending, but it couldn’t be a sad one either, because the story wasn’t over yet.
It was only starting.
The firework show continued above them, but neither Yoshiki nor Hikaru were paying attention.
“We gotta take a train to Nagoya first, then we can get the Tokaido shinkansen there.”
“Woah, shinkansen? I’ve never been in one!”
“I’ve used it to visit my mother’s family. ’S a little over two hours to Tokyo, much faster than the night bus.”
“Two hours, huh? Bet ya I could be even faster!”
Yoshiki elbowed him, calling him a show-off for that, and Hikaru just laughed.
Hikaru did not know what would come next, or what would become of them after this. He wasn’t even sure of what he truly wanted to do, no longer bound to play the role of a god that people wanted but didn’t actually exist, or the role of a dead boy who didn’t want to be mourned. But that was alright. As long as he stayed by Yoshiki’s side, everything would work out somehow.
Just like the sea ocean they’d once watched together, the future was just waiting in front of them, stretching into infinity.