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The sun is an accursed thing. It filters its way through fluttering curtains into the oppressive space Yoshiki occupies, an open defiance of his long-sought rest. The rays are not warm as they dance in uneven patterns across his sleeping face, leaping and skipping over the bridge of his nose and skirting along his jaw. Yoshiki couldn’t remember a time he had ever been thankful for the soft moments of the morning. Once, maybe, the white-yellow of the early day had signified a new start. When he was a child, perhaps the sun had been a promise. A message. Look, it would whisper while cradling his small, gangly body, look at what I have to give you.
As Yoshiki slowly drifted into the realm of the conscious – his awareness clinging back to his body much like the blanket that cocooned him in place – the final glimpses of a fading dream dissipated from behind his eyelids. He was awake. The day was new, and so was he.
Yesterday, Yoshiki had initiated a less-than-fair tiff with ‘Hikaru’. Even in the moment he had recognized the calamitous miscalculation of allowing his own self-imposed misery to slip through his normally regulated composure, but had been too caught up in the fact ‘Hikaru’ had somehow gotten the bright idea that it was alright to hold hands in broad daylight. It wasn’t his fault, really, and Yoshiki knew that. ‘Hikaru’ was new to everything, and of course that extended to social do’s and don’t’s. Probably most of all, actually. Yoshiki really gave him a mouthful for it, though, and they hadn’t walked home together as their usual after-school routine. That simple change to schedule had offset Yoshiki’s whole evening, and he had basically spent all his time since then cowering in bed.
If self-loathing was a competitive sport, Yoshiki would convince himself he was too pathetic to enroll.
“Yoshiki! Breakfast!”
The blankets covering him slipped off with little manipulation on his part, scrunching up in bundles of body-warmed fabric at the base of his bed. At the same time as he kicked his feet over the side of his mattress, Yoshiki hoisted himself upwards until he stumbled a few steps forward. His legs felt fuzzy, like a current of electricity thrummed through his calves. The rest of his body was an elastic band stretched too thin, vibrating madly with chill. Any residual comfort from his time spent in bed began to bleed out of him as he began dressing himself for the day.
---
Downstairs at the kitchen table, Yoshiki took a seat across from Kaoru and his mother, who both seemed fairly preoccupied with each other.
“Moooom!”
“I already told you, Kaoru, I’m just too busy! If you can’t be patient, you’ll have to ask somebody else.”
It seemed final, and Kaoru pouted accusingly at her bowl of steamed vegetables and rice.
“What’s this about?” Yoshiki asked softly and reached to make his own bowl.
“Oh,” his mom sighed and shook her head, “Kaoru apparently needs to catch a frog for a science project. I tell ya, Yoshiki, if I'd known getting her back to her classes would cause such a commotion…”
Yoshiki watched as Kaoru flinched in her seat. Her head bowed several inches and she began poking mindlessly at her food, rightfully uninterested in the conversation.
“I can take ya out after school,” Yoshiki warmly brushed his hand against the back of his sister’s knuckles, catching her eye with an understanding smile. “I’ll even help ya catch one. Better two sets’a hands than one, right?”
Kaoru smiled back in response.
---
The usual blue of Kubitachi’s morning skies was murky today, darkened by wisps of polluted whites and heavy greys. A wet chill swept weather-battered leaves along the crust of the dirt, and the occasional meaner gust would whip the long grass around like party streamers. Had the forecast called for a storm? He couldn’t remember anyone telling him – which wouldn’t be strange, if it wasn’t one of the very few ‘exciting’ things that happened in Kubitachi. If there was a storm coming, there wasn’t a chance Yoshiki wouldn’t have overheard anyone talking about it.
Yoshiki briefly considered sending a text to Kurebayashi-San. After all, a sudden, unpredicted storm could mean any number of things. But his phone stayed like lead in his pocket, weighted by the uncertainty of where he stood with ‘Hikaru’. If Kurebayashi-San took Yoshiki’s concern as him volunteering to help, he would need to get ‘Hikaru’ involved…which would be difficult until he knew where he stood!
“I’m heading out!” Yoshiki shouted back into the house over his shoulder, then braced against the wind as he ventured out.
As the final morning bell rang, Yoshiki took his seat by the window. It had begun raining outside, and he was blissfully accompanied now by the small pattering of altitude-cooled water flattening against glass. The rhythm lulled him, anchored him in the moment. Only then did he realize that it was far too quiet. ‘Hikaru’ would never allow such tranquility to carry on for too long, not this early in the day.
He turned his head to the side, expecting to catch a glimpse of white curls. Instead, ‘Hikaru’s seat remained empty, devoid of the usual radiant presence that Yoshiki relied on to get him through the day. That’s…strange. ‘Hikaru’ had only ever skipped out once, and it was after one of their nastier…entanglements.
Realization of the situation put an uneasy weight on Yoshiki’s already burdened shoulders. ‘Hikaru’ was likely still in his room, hiding from the world under a thick blanket. His hands found their way to his face, the heels of his palms pressing themselves against his squeezed-shut eyelids. When it had happened – when ‘Hikaru’ had grabbed for his hand and enveloped it with a silky chill – Yoshiki had truly thought it essential he dissuaded that behaviour immediately. Now, the empty seat beside him carved an unpleasant hole in his gut.
“Hey, Yoshiki!” Asako's cheery greeting would normally be a balm to Yoshiki's perpetual spiral into anxiety, but now it only served as a reminder that he couldn’t talk to her about…any of this. “Yoshiki!” This time it’s Yuuta whisper-shouting at him, head turned at an uncomfortable looking angle to catch his attention. “Where th’ hell is Hikaru? He feeling okay?”
---
‘Hikaru’’s morning had been a purposefully slow crawl to consciousness. His set alarms had gone off and promptly been silenced at least four or five times now, eventually becoming enough of a hassle for him to blearily blink his way into reality. “Hhhm..” He groans while sitting up, swaddled in his sheets like a newborn. It was a thin protection between him and the rest of the world, but it felt more secure than having nothing around him.
Yesterday he had messed up. Again.
Undoubtedly Yoshiki was still upset with him. The worst part was, even after Yoshiki explained it quite clearly, ‘Hikaru’ still wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he had done wrong. It was eating him up inside.
“Well,” he kicks his feet over the side of his bed, “better get up an’ see Yoshiki.” He would be at home, hopefully, probably also sulking about the situation if ‘Hikaru’ knew him well enough. Which, he did.
Standing is an enormous task, his legs feeling like floppy gelatin beneath him. Getting ready is no easy feat either, but ‘Hikaru’ pushes through the lingering drowsiness and does his best to repress the churning that sits in the depths of his chest.
It’s half an hour later that ‘Hikaru’ stands in front of the Tsujinaka household. His hands are wrung tight around the handlebars of his bike, becoming clammy with the effort. Foolishly, ‘Hikaru’ hadn’t even thought over what he was going to say or do to win back Yoshiki’s affection. Standing in front of the door was a sobering reminder that he still had so much to learn, and a slap in the face that even if he did learn, it would mean nothing if he couldn’t control himself.
But, with Yoshiki…no matter how hard ‘Hikaru’ tried…the push and pull, the ebb and flow, the incomprehensible, undeniable string knitting them together wouldn’t budge or break.
‘Hikaru’ was every bit as much Yoshiki’s as Yoshiki was his.
“Hey, Yosh’ki!” he shouted, finally caving to the desire to see him and forfeiting all the anxiety that held him back. “Yosh’kiiii!”
A few seconds passed with no response, and ‘Hikaru’ – ever the patient waiter – propped his bike up and invited himself inside. It was starting to rain, and he really didn’t want to be soggy. “Yosh’ki?” He called again, noting how most of the lights were off. Was he sleeping still?
Decidedly, it was the wisest idea to head right to Yoshiki’s room, barging through the house with the confidence of someone who actually lived there. Instead, ‘Hikaru’ only made it past the kitchen before pausing, doing a double-take of the table, and standing awkwardly in the doorway. Kaoru stared back at him with a similar expression.
“Have y’seen Yoshiki?”
“Didn’t you guys walk to school together?”
“What? Naw, it ain’t a school day!”
‘Hikaru’ blanked for a moment, idly scratching at the back of his neck.
“It’s Friday.”
“It’s Friday?”
Oh, crap, no wonder Yoshiki didn’t bother answering the door! ‘Hikaru’ threw his head back in restless abandon, making a small, disbelieving and disappointed sound in the back of his throat. He took a seat across from Kaoru at the table, slumping over himself and burying his face into the crook of his elbow. “Maaan. I’m so gonna get an earful for this.”
Kaoru snorted in a mild, polite manner. Yoshiki had told him once that she and the real Hikaru had been somewhat close, considering the fact Hikaru grew up essentially part of the family. ‘Hikaru’ didn’t feel that exact same familial connection, but Kaoru was comfortable to be around. She was often quiet and a bit reluctant to most things, but she could be funny and rather thoughtful too. Quiet observation must run in the family.
“Say, what’re you doin’ home, Kaoru? Don’t’cha have school?”
Her withdrawal from the topic was visible, so ‘Hikaru’ followed her silence.
For a few seconds, at least.
“Y’wanna do anything?”
“Shouldn’t you…go to class?”
“And walk into Hara’s class late?” ‘Hikaru’ made a face of disbelief that Kaoru couldn’t help but laugh at.
“Well, Yoshiki was gonna take me frog-hunting later–”
“FROG HUNTING?” The chair ‘Hikaru’ had been sitting in clattered to the ground with the sudden motion of him standing up. His hands slammed palm-down on the table. Excitement radiated off his beaming face like the sun itself had become ‘Hikaru’. “Yosh’ki doesn’t like that sort’a thing as much as I do! C’mon, I’ll take you now!”
---
In the pocket of his pants, Yoshiki’s phone vibrates with a notification. Despite being in the middle of a lesson, he discretely checks the screen, mind briefly racing with the uncertainty of who was messaging him. Was ‘Hikaru’ in trouble? Did Kurebayashi-San need him?
Kaoru’s text pops up. Her contact name settles his nerves momentarily. Then he actually reads the messages, and his heart sinks.
[Yoshiki!]
[Hikaru dropped by to see you. He forgot about classes today.]
[We’re going frog-hunting so don’t worry about doing it tonight!]
What.
‘Hikaru’ was with Kaoru. Fine. That would be totally fine, if he hadn’t argued with ‘Hikaru’ less than twenty-four hours ago.
Yoshiki’s blood ran cold, his paranoia sweeping his thoughts away to worst-case-scenarios faster than he could catch himself.
Was ‘Hikaru’ still upset?
Likely, but even so, it’s ‘Hikaru’. He wouldn’t do something like that, at least not now.
But wouldn’t he? He’d killed Old Lady Matsuura, and taken half of Asako’s hearing while trying to do the same to her!
They’d talked things over, though. ‘Hikaru’ seemed remorseful, even if it was only because it had upset Yoshiki.
That’s right! ‘Hikaru’ wouldn’t do something he knew would directly hurt Yoshiki. That much was reliable about him, so long as he was of right mind.
So…what if he wasn’t?
Outside, the rain began to pour down in sheets, a grim background that did not help with Yoshiki’s fretting. A sudden clap of thunder jolted him. Before he knew it, he was hurriedly packing up his bag, shoving loose papers and books wherever they could fit.
“Wha- Yoshiki? What’re you doin’?” Asako swiveled herself ninety degrees to watch him, her eyebrows raised in a mixture of shock and bewilderment. “Have ya finally fallen off yer rocker?”
“Ah, no, I just-” Yoshiki stammered his words, a small bead of sweat trickling down the side of his cheek. “Kaoru isn’t feeling well and my parents aren’t home, so I’m gonna- yeah, I’m gonna go check on her.”
Before Asako is able to get another word in, and at the same time as Hara begins shouting for Yoshiki to sit back down, he’s tripping over himself while running out the classroom door. His thumb taps an anxious non-stop rhythm over the ‘call’ button under Kaoru’s contact, impatience meeting the harrowing lack of a good connection.
“Come on, come on, c’mon!” Yoshiki muttered miserably beneath huffing breaths, his stride gradually lengthening in quick, frantic steps. As much as Yoshiki hated doubting ‘Hikaru’, he knew it would be foolish for him to mindlessly trust in everything he does. If anything were to happen, Kaoru would be completely defenseless.
The rubber soles of his shoes squelched in the mud beneath him, making for a slippery terrain to navigate at a faster-than-average speed. Yoshiki’s stomach was tying itself up in knots, a nauseating feeling that brought bile to the back of his throat.
---
With the rain bringing about an abundance of frogs, Kaoru and ‘Hikaru’ were having no issue at all finding themselves a fine specimen. Their raincoats shielded their clothes from the worst of the rain, but ‘Hikaru’’s decision to go hatless had come at the cost of white curls – that proved to be impossible to brush away – clinging ridiculously to his face. “Ah! Kaoru! Look’it this guy, ain’t he huge?” ‘Hikaru’ snorted, lifting up a plump toad like it was a hamburger. “Woah! He must eat the smaller toads fer breakfast!” With her arms already full of unbothered subjects, Kaoru came sprinting over, her eyes wide with childish wonder.
“Y’ain’t gonna dissect the frog ya bring into class, are ya?” Hikaru jutted out his lower lip in a mock-pout, bringing the slimy creature way too close to his face. As if it were a cat to be snuggled.
Kaoru shook her head while placing down her collection, holding out her hands to hold their magnum opus. “Nh-nh. Everyone’s jus’ supposed t’be bringing in an animal so we can learn about ‘em up close.”
“Sounds fun,” he deposited the grand creature into her palms, “but how’re ya gonna make sure he don’t hop away?”
Kaoru thinks about it for a moment, her mouth downturned in a thoughtful manner.
“I guess I’ll just have to treat him well enough that he wants t’ stick around me willingly. Maybe I should catch him some flies…”
“Ha! I don’t think that’s gonna be as easy as catchin’ these behemoths!”
She giggles in reply, then turns and gently places the toad into a cheap-looking crate with carved-out breathing holes.
“Yer gonna want something better than that fer him if y’want him to stick around!” ‘Hikaru’ declared, crouching down by Kaoru’s side and inspecting the box. “Y’can’t just put it in a completely new environment and expect it t’ thrive!”
“Hm..okay, yer right. I’ll run home an’ grab something better!”
“I’ll stay right here with ‘im!”
As ‘Hikaru’ listens to Kaoru’s retreating footsteps and the puddles that splash in tandem, he can’t help but stare at the frog, perturbed by its stillness. Reluctantly, he scoops the frog back up, placing him down on the marshy ground. “Now listen here,” ‘Hikaru’ kneels, once again putting his face way too close to the toad, “y’ain’t gonna hop away on me now, ya got it? I’m just lettin’ ya get a few more minutes in yer natural environment! Then yer gonna go with Kaoru an’ put on an awesome show fer the kids in her class!”
The toad, presumably unable to understand English, blinks one eye after the other.
“Glad we had this talk.”
---
Heavy footfall tramples the mud that Yoshiki slips and slides on. Each laboured breath reminds him that he should be taking care not to overexert himself, lest he need the energy to fend off one of ‘Hikaru’’s...moods. Despite the continuous realization, Yoshiki doesn’t heed the warning of his burning lungs and aching legs, only pushes himself past those physical discomforts in the name of protecting Kaoru. Not only Kaoru, but ‘Hikaru’, in a sense. Despite thinking him capable of attacking his sister, Yoshiki doesn’t believe it would be an intentional thing. ‘Hikaru’ had lost control of himself before, what’s to say that their argument hadn’t triggered something inside him?
“Hf…hff…haa..” Yoshiki gulps down a particularly jagged breath and has to force back a choking response. “KAORU!” He’s entered the marshier area of their community, relying on the routine frog-catching spot being where Kaoru and ‘Hikaru’ went. If they weren’t there…god, what would he do if they weren’t there? He would have to get Kurebayashi-San involved. That would put ‘Hikaru’ at risk, wouldn’t it? But if he didn’t, he was helpless in protecting Kaoru! A misplaced step sent his leg flying out from under him, skidding through a puddle and landing Yoshiki face-down in the mud with a resounding “oof”.
The sticky mud hung heavy on his cheek, which didn’t help in the slightest with his current overwhelm. Wisps of his long black bangs clumped together in the mess, and a sudden wave of teariness made it impossible to see properly in the rain. “KAORU! KAORU,” he hiccuped and groaned while uselessly wiping at his face with an equally muddy hand, “KAORU ARE YOU HERE?”
A pathetic, keening noise rips itself from the back of his throat.
“‘HIKARU’! HEY, ‘HIKARU’, CAN YA HEAR ME?”
Only the gushing of rain answers him. The taunting rhythm of raindrops kissing the surface of puddles continues, and Yoshiki watches with gritted teeth as those drops become part of the larger mass, dancing along as rivulets in such great quantities that it no longer looks disturbed – just natural.
How pathetic it was of him to think he could play some kind of hero. How truly, awfully pathetic he was, for thinking he was somehow capable of being responsible for ‘Hikaru’. Now Kaoru would pay for his stupidity, for his audacity, for all the sins that Yoshiki had held so tightly to his chest for so long–
“Yoshiki? What’re ya doin’ down there?”
His neck nearly snaps with the whiplash Yoshiki gives himself. ‘Hikaru’ stands in front of him, a few feet away, with a contented, fat toad practically melting like putty in his arms.
“‘Hikaru’? Wuh- where’s–?” Yoshiki glances around, once more feeling sickness rouse throughout him. Kaoru was nowhere to be seen, and even though ‘Hikaru’ looked as normal as a non-human entity in a human’s body could look, it unsettled him. “Where’s Kaoru, ‘Hikaru’?”
“Kaoru? She went back to grab a bigger bucket, ‘r something.”
“Back to the house?” But he had come from that direction. He hadn’t passed her, he hadn’t seen anyone at all!
“I’unno, she just went th–”
In a moment, Yoshiki is back on his feet, albeit not with the slightest grace. He slides a little to the side before gathering his centre of gravity. “Cut the crap, ‘Hikaru’!” Yoshiki’s hands are on the collar of his shirt before he can stop himself, fingers angrily bunching up the material. ‘Hikaru’ makes a face at him before shoving a toad-occupied elbow into his chest with a confused grunt. “I don’t know what ya mean, Yoshiki! Get yer dirty hands off’a me!”
“Since when has a little dirt bothered you, huh? Answer me, ‘Hikaru’, where th’ hell is Kaoru!?” Yoshiki could hear the desperation in his own voice and it rattled him. He wouldn’t stop, though. Not until he knew Kaoru was alive and unharmed.
‘Hikaru’ wasn’t budging, only staring wide-eyed and frantic back at Yoshiki. His arms were preoccupied with a now-upset toad, which for some reason ‘Hikaru’ was not dropping. “She’s at home! She’s gettin’ a cage fer the toad! Yoshiki, yer hurtin’ me!”
“I don’t believe you!” Spittle flies from his mouth as he rages. An all-consuming terror had crept up his spine and sank its teeth deep into the base of his neck, burrowing there and carving out its home.
“I said yer hurting me!” Finally, the toad is dropped, and with a wet plap he sinks a little into the mud. He looks between the two boys before hopping once, twice, away. “Look’it what you did, Yoshiki! Kaoru wanted that toad fer her project!”
“Where is she, ‘Hikaru’? Tell me the truth!”
“Yoshiki, I really don’t understand what you–”
He must have seen it, then. The brittle, fearful thing that squirmed under Yoshiki’s scleras. Yoshiki felt a pang of guilt, made stronger by a wall of regret slamming into him full force.
“--do you think I killed Kaoru?”
“She- I- you weren’t–”
“No, Yoshiki, yer supposed to say ‘no!’ Say it!”
“You weren’t in class! You never skip out unless something’s goin’ on, an’ we just fought, an’ I–”
“Fought? You yelled at me an’ then didn’t explain what I’d done ta deserve that! I wouldn’t call that a fight, Yoshiki!”
Sure, fight was a particularly brutal word. They hadn’t fought. Yoshiki had freaked out and stormed off, unresponsive to ‘Hikaru’ begging for an explanation.
“You think I killed Kaoru.”
“Thought. I thought you would try, ‘Hikaru’, an’ I’m sorry, but ya gotta understand–” Yoshiki’s tone was still angry, still ferocious with the frightened heat of a man standing to lose too much.
“Understand what, that ya look’it me and see a murderous freak!? Just another ‘impurity’, right?” ‘Hikaru’ takes a bold step forward, stabbing a finger at Yoshiki’s vulnerable chest. He flinches in turn, and knows a second too late that it was another mistake. The pain that registers in ‘Hikaru’s ever-flowing eyes is catching. The sadness latches onto Yoshiki like a disease, peeling at his layers and folding itself between every inch of space his body occupies. “Yosh–” his voice is a flimsy thing, and Yoshiki hates it, knows ‘Hikaru’ is anything but fragile, “y’really think I’d hurt ya?”
No, of course he wouldn’t. ‘Hikaru’ was made up of watermelon seeds and shared Papicco. His hair was forever shaped for Yoshiki’s rustling fingers. Yoshiki knew that ‘Hikaru’ would never hurt him. Why had he flinched?
“Please, let me–”
‘Hikaru’ cut him off.
“I don’t understand ya one bit, Yosh’ki,” as he spoke, dewy tears sprung to life, threatening to spill from the pink of his ducts. All Yoshiki could think of was how the salt of them might explode against his tongue. A dangerous ambrosia, forever kept from him. As if he had ever deserved it. “Ya say we’re best friends, an’ ya let me get real close t’ya when it’s just th’ two of us, but when we step outta yer room… th’ second anyone else is around, it’s like yer.. ashamed of me.” Yoshiki’s heart gripped itself, clawed and trembling. The question came soft as nothing. “Are ya ashamed of me?”
‘Hikaru’ was never meant to sound so quiet.
A beat of silence was broken by Yoshiki stumbling over himself, jaw hung open on a cacophony of words he felt he would never have the courage to set free. His stomach had long since reached an upset so disorienting he was surprised with his ability to stay upright. ‘Hikaru’ watched him with broken eyes. Both boys stared into the face of the person they cared for most, and neither of them could be certain the other felt the same.
“I’m not ashamed of you, ‘Hikaru’, and I ain’t scared’a you.”
To that, ‘Hikaru’ pressed the tip of his tongue against the back of his teeth, making a hissing tsk as he looked away. “I don’t know how you can say that after ya flinched from me.”
“That– I didn’t mean to, it was instinct.” Wrong choice of words.
“Yer instinct is to fear my every move?” His voice was icy cold and mean. “Y’know what, Yoshiki, I think it’s fer the best I go home.” ‘Hikaru’ spat the words as if the sharp ends of each syllable cut deep into his tongue. “Clearly ya don’t trust me, an’ I can’t–”
Can’t live with that. ‘Hikaru’ could never exist without Yoshiki’s light warming him.
“--I’m jus’..gonna go.”
Yoshiki’s mouth felt full of glue. Tasteless and vile.
‘Hikaru’’s waterfall eyes flit past Yoshiki, already mapping out his escape.
“Don’t bother comin’ around fer a while. Clearly ya don’t want to risk bein’ around a monster like me.”
Finally, a burst of courage was brought on by the horror of being abandoned. The dread of knowing that he had made ‘Hikaru’ feel like a monster, when it was Yoshiki that bore these monstrous feelings. Yoshiki lunged and grabbed at ‘Hikaru’’s wrist, holding him in place even as the other boy struggled against it.
“Yosh–”
“‘Hikaru’, please, I’m trying here. Don’t you understand why it’s hard fer me to trust you sometimes? I know it ain’t yer fault, an’ I’m not trying to blame you fer anything, but Kaoru is…”
“...she’s yer sister, Yosh’ki, I get it!” He yanked himself away with a pained shout. The boy with curls the colour of doves and snow and bone, and eyes that moved like a constant stream of indistinguishable reds and blues, clenched his hands at his sides. This boy, who should not be able to fit into the confines of a human body, looked too small as the crescendo of rain blotted out the pitiful sobs that now wracked his caging body. “I get it, an’ I hate that I do! I jus’ wanna be mad at you, but I can’t do that– I dunno how.”
Yoshiki clammed up. His bones vibrated with the consolation of an equal footing. They could see eye-to-eye on this. Good. So why did things still feel so precarious?
“Can ya just…explain to me what I did wrong yesterday? So I won’t do it again?”
Rain water mixed with the muddied hand prints Yoshiki had left on ‘Hikaru’’s collar. They smudged, but the clear outline of fingers remained. Something burned inside of him.
---
Watching as Yoshiki floundered for the right words, ‘Hikaru’ swallowed back a tidal wave of agony. His jaw ached from the bursting pressure it took to hold in his next round of tears, and he worried the build-up of liquid inside him might tear him at the seams. He imagined Yoshiki watching as his body would open up and be emptied of his dizzying emotions.
When he spoke, it was a trembling thing. The silence snapped like a band against skin, stinging as the words landed.
“Ya… ya can’t hold my hand in public, ‘Hikaru’. It ain’t right, an’ people might start saying things about…us.”
But that made no sense. ‘Hikaru’ had seen dozens of couples around town and in school, and they did plenty more than hand-holding. “Yer lying,” he became defensive again, upper lip twitching into a confused, jagged snarl, “that ain’t the reason, it doesn’t make any sense! Why are ya lying!?”
“I’m not lying, ‘Hikaru’,” Yoshiki snapped back. It was a tiresome game of back-and-forth. Neither knew how to quell all the sparkling heat that prickled and churned inside them.
Only ‘Hikaru’ made any attempt to stomp out the feeling. He darted forward in a rush, eyes alight with brazen finality. “I want a real answer, Yoshiki!” His hands twisted at the midriff of his school shirt and yanked him close. So close. Too close. Yoshiki’s humid breath brushed against ‘Hikaru’’s lips, ghosting where two mouths could slot together perfectly. “So gimmie an answer.”
“Ya can’t hold my hand because people will say we’re gay!” he shouted. He didn’t mean to. “And– and that can’t happen, ‘cos that’s practically a death sentence in Kubitachi!”
‘Hikaru’ blinks, slow and stupid. His grip on Yoshiki remains firm, but something softens between them. “What’s…wrong with bein’ gay?”
---
And, oh, if that were so easy to answer.
If only Yoshiki could rip open the horrible parts of humanity and hand them over to ‘Hikaru’ – say here, look, can you understand now? as the unforgiving collective morphed constantly before their eyes, the ugly truths of how humans treat each other overflowing from the gutted ribcage of a once carefree boy. Sickening and all-consuming, the judgement of a pair of eyes. The cruelty of a twisted mouth.
“It ain’t natural.”
“I ain’t natural.”
The response was so quick-witted that Yoshiki felt the need to push ‘Hikaru’ away. He didn’t.
“People don’t like it.”
“So what?”
“It ain’t easy to explain, ‘Hikaru’, that’s just the way things are.”
“I don’t think that’s a real answer,” ‘Hikaru’ pressed away from Yoshiki, disappointment loud on his face.
And it wasn’t. Not really. Yoshiki knew that explaining the intricate idiocy of homophobia to a being of boundless light and untethered being and granted wishes was an impossible task. They should get out of the rain. Find Kaoru’s toad. Find Kaoru. Go home. But Yoshiki’s feet were one with the muck beneath them, and ‘Hikaru’ was waiting for his real answer.
A hellish kind of perplexity battled inside Yoshiki’s hollow chest. Rambunctious and scalding, it burned him inside-out, yearning, begging, demanding to be set free. He took a heaving breath and released a pathetic whisper.
“I can’t be gay, ‘Hikaru’. It’ll ruin too much.”
Still, ‘Hikaru’ did not back down. The stubborn thing that undulated inside him would not cower.
“So yer gay.” ‘Hikaru’ said it with a disgusting amount of ease. It rolled from his tongue like any other sentence, forthcoming and pristine. It was horrible. It was absolving.
Yoshiki didn’t know if he was gay or not. He knew that most boys his age didn’t sneak glances of their best friend sprawled out in the sunlight, taking note of the way his milky-white skin practically shone with the reflected light. He knew that there was no sound he loved quite as much as ‘Hikaru’’s snorting laugh. He knew that when he lay awake at night, accompanied only by the heavy thundering of his own heartbeat and rushing blood, it was ‘Hikaru’’s imagined weight beside him that lulled him to rest.
He knew that ‘Hikaru’ was something made outside of his world, unprepared to be contained by human misapprehension. He also knew that ‘Hikaru’ contained endlessness, and no human would ever be able to tame it, no matter how hard they might try. So, being gay was just…another part of something ‘Hikaru’ would always be on the outside of.
“Yes,” Yoshiki nearly vomited the word, “I am.”
“Okay.”
He blanched. Around them, the rain began to slow, a pleasantly-tempered pitter-patter that welcomed back in the croaking wildlife. The air was thick and stuck to every inch of them. Okay. That was it, wasn’t it? To ‘Hikaru’, anything was okay, so long as it screamed of Yoshiki.
“You don’t understand, ‘Hikaru’--”
“I do,” he grinned ear-to-ear, but it was a disheartening look, “ya think I haven’t discovered what gay is?” No, actually, Yoshiki hadn’t thought that. What exactly had ‘Hikaru’ been researching? “I don’t care about what ya are, Yosh’ki. S’long as I can see you–” He presses closer, cautious.
“--and hear you–”
Closer still.
“--and feel you.”
A too-cold hand slips its way under Yoshiki’s shirt, innocently tracing the skin beneath. Yoshiki shudders, but doesn’t pull away. The touch is something inexplicably ‘Hikaru’.
“Yer kinda stupid, y’know,” and if that wasn’t the biggest understatement of the day. Yoshiki groaned lightly, humiliated by so much. ‘Hikaru’ looked up at him through wispy white eyelashes, the red of his iris catching in the light that slowly bled through the grey of the sky. “You could cut me open, Yoshiki—really, I’d ask ya to—and you’d see that, whatever it is that lies beneath this skin, it breathes in the shape of yer name.”
“Stop-” Yoshiki shivered.
“I don’t know how humans work, Yosh’ki, but I know you.”
“Stop, ‘Hikaru’--”
“I can’t stop myself, Yoshiki, it’s how I feel. It’s what I know.”
“You don’t know what yer saying.”
“Ya want me to stop talking?”
A crawling hush snaked itself around them.
Simultaneously, they surged forward.
A momentary explosion blinked into a forever-devouring satisfaction.
A craving that had starved them both washed away with spit.
Sparkling of fire sticks. Ocean salt. Papicco wrappers. Chirping cicadas.
Bent manga pages. The creaking of playground spring riders.
Where one mouth could slot against another, teeth met lip. A shocked, bewildered noise tore from one of them – neither sure of who had made it. Yoshiki felt the fantastic awkwardness of their kiss coursing through him. ‘Hikaru’ felt the edges of himself soften and give, the iridescent midnight-blacks and bloodied-reds and bruised-purples of his clandestine innards spilling forth and politely meeting with the smooth flesh before him. Yoshiki melted into it, falling, plummeting into the waters of together and close and more.
It was undeniable perfection. ‘Hikaru’ and Yoshiki, two parts of something that would forever remain split open and empty. Their bodies knew each other and, gingerly, feverish arms found their way around the other. The festering that had threatened to kill them from the inside finally met what it had so earnestly sought after.
‘Hikaru’, always greedy and never satiated, looped searching fingers through the belt buckles of Yoshiki’s pants and yanked him closer, taking pride in the way their hips pressed into each other – an attempt at mimicry that fell short of the way their lips danced against each other. Neither made any move to further the kiss – tongues remained heavy in their mouths, and the heat that swallowed them up remained gentle with its demands.
When they pull apart, neither are willing to go too far. Yoshiki’s shoulders slouch with the way he rests his forehead against ‘Hikaru’’s.
The boy made of watermelon seeds and adorned with a snaggle tooth breathed in the shape of Yoshiki’s name.
“I don’t know what I can give ya, Yosh’ki. I think my love is different from how ya feel yers. But I’ll give ya everything I have. More than that. I’ll give ya anything, Yoshiki.”
“You,” the boy made of stomach-pills and brittle fears and bloodied hands pleaded in a whisper, “I only want you.”
---
The moment had existed only for them. It had happened, and just as quickly it had ended.
‘Hikaru’ and Yoshiki trailed through the marsh with the tips of their pinky fingers laced together. A quiet declaration. A hidden thing. Only theirs.
When they finally do find Kaoru, she’s all radiant smiles and muddied knees. Before ‘Hikaru’ can even begin to apologize for losing their large and warted friend, she’s rising quick to her feet and waving them over. “Hikaru! Come look!” And he did, racing ahead a bit to satisfy her impatient excitement. When ‘Hikaru’ glanced down at what she so frantically gestured to, he snickered, a lovely understanding resonating within.
“I guess he likes it in there after all!” Kaoru declared. The larger, more animal-conducive container Kaoru had run back home to get lay abandoned in a puddle. The toad sat croaking a happy tune in the small, barely-breathable crate. “Huh,” ‘Hikaru’ nearly glowed with contentedness.
Here was a thing that had been taken from all it once knew and dropped in an unforgiving new world.
Here was a thing that wanted to adapt, and adapt it did.
Yoshiki found himself back by ‘Hikaru’’s side, and like a puzzle piece found the grooves and curves he fit so perfectly into.
While Kaoru lifted her hard-earned reward and began leading the way home, two sets of knuckles brushed against each other, desire so tangible. Yoshiki slipped his hand into the welcoming palm of ‘Hikaru’’s, and their fingers tangled together like ribbon.