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“What kind of fate brought me here today?” I asked myself as I looked at myself in the mirror, hands paralyzed on my suit that I was attempting at fixing. The regular pain that had rooted itself in my heart hurt a little more than usual. “Ah, I should be used to it by now,” I sighed.
***
“Masato Hijirikawa just moved from Kyoto. Let’s all welcome him well!” The teacher exclaimed and clapped. The sea of applause made my cheeks burn a little, but the smile of one of the twelve years old made me feel welcomed.
“My name is Ren,” the kid joined me for lunch, but I couldn’t say anything. “Your name is Masato, right?” He asked, to which I only nodded, eating the rest of my food shyly. Seeing that I wasn’t replying, he looked away, to the sky. “It’s okay, I just moved here, too.”
From that day, we ended up walking back home together. Ren would show me places that he would go to, food that he would eat. He wasn’t too good at studying, so I didn’t mind helping him, though I don’t think I was of much help, since we would always go exploring five minutes later.
“Ne, Masato,” Ren nudged me, as he took the glue and put together the wings of our science project. “Did you know that rockets can go five kilometers per second?”
My eyes sparkled at the thought – something going so fast, so high, with nothing in its way.
“I want to fly just as high one day!”
I smiled and told Ren he could do it, because no one but him could dream like he did.
Slowly, Ren and I became close. He was the talkative one, but I didn’t mind. When Ren was sick, I didn’t feel like going to school either. I thought, at the time, if it was because I got sick too. In reality, it was just because school wasn’t going to be the same.
***
“Do you promise not to be angry at me?”
The question caught me off guard. The little ginger boy brought me to his favorite spot on his bike. It was the sunset in front of a river. The scenery might have been beautiful, but I couldn’t bring myself to remember since my hands, hidden behind me, jittered in disquietude.
I just nodded, trying to still my hands and avoid his gaze.
A silence settled between us, the only noise that could be heard was from the leaves being carried by the wind.
“I’m moving away.”
There was nowhere for my eyes to lay on aside from Ren’s blue orbs. His bright blue eyes had turned dimmed, as my vision became blurry. I held my breath and my tears back, as I mumbled with a flicker of hope, “Is it far?”
“America, I think.”
As foolish as this was, my first thought was if Ren knew where America was. Then, my second was if there are ways to go there. It always felt so natural to be following him, that the fact that I couldn’t anymore didn’t feel real. He noticed my silence and took my hand, furrowing his brows.
“But I’ll come back. Let’s write letters, okay?”
My lips trembled, though I attempted at keeping them shut. Before I could stop anything, Ren had taken my hands close to him and pressed his lips to mine in a chaste, gentle kiss.
“Okay, Masato?”
“Okay.”
***
I couldn’t say for sure, but perhaps that was the moment when I started writing more. It was a routine: to write, to expect, to receive, to read. The distance between us made it go as slow as cherry tree petals falling to the floor – five centimeters per second.
***
Dear Masato,
Hello, how are you friend?
I’m kidding! I wonder if you can even understand this…
I’m sorry this letter is a little late, I had to study more than I usually do.
You know, I have something more important than school!
Have you ever been confessed to, Masato?
A lot of girls here hang out with me and I want to have them all to me! Why choose one!
They are really cute. You need to come to America and find a girlfriend after school. Maybe I’ll be the first to have sex. Will I have to teach you things? Did you even kiss yet?
I also just got an e-mail address. It’s getting famous here to send letters there. Do you have one?
Don’t forget to reply!
- Ren
***
To Ren,
After high school? I’m not sure what to do yet… Have you decided?
I don’t have time to date… Stop asking…
You should focus in school instead of messing the life of these poor girls, Ren. And at least, be honest about your feelings!
I don’t… but I will try to create one. Don’t ask me if I have one when you don’t even write in yours.
And I’m still learning English, so please don’t write complicated things…
Do you miss Japanese tea? I’m sending you some with this letter.
- Masato
***
I was always the late-bloomer when it came to love. For me, it was such a sacred feeling that I had to reserve to a very special person.
Ren said that love is a strong feeling, one that you want to be with the person in body and mind.
It was such a simple definition, that I directly associated it with him.
When I told him about it, Ren only laughed over the phone, saying that I hadn’t found love yet.
I laughed, too, because I didn’t quite understand what was wrong.
***
E-mails and phone calls were more practical, and we would talk to each other more than once a week. Whenever I wrote to him, my heart felt a distinct warmth that not even Tokyo’s summer could compete with. Before I knew it, I was finishing my university when Ren told me he would come back to Japan. I decided to become a writer. I wrote a few chronicles but I recently started my new book.
“Ah, I really like your writing, but this isn’t the ending that I was expecting,” Ren would always say to my short stories. I wondered what he meant. Wasn’t it good? Or was it? In the end, I realized that only the author knew the true world of the story. Things that I thought were obvious didn’t seem so to others, apparently.
***
It was a little foreign to have my close friend right in front of my eyes after so long. Although Ren sent me pictures now and then of his life in America, the shock between the last image from fifteen years ago and the man in front of me still caught me off guard.
Ren grew to be a composer for soundtracks in America and would send me some titles here and there.
We talked for hours – perhaps more than I have in years. It was relieving to have someone understand you completely, yet be the opposite on so many things.
“It took you a little to come back,” I commented, breathing into my tea, to which Ren just chuckled and reached for my hand. His touch was comforting, nostalgic. A touch that the hands and kisses of countless strangers couldn’t compete with.
When parting ways, Ren held both of my hands, just like last time. “Everything will be okay now, that we’ve met right?”
I nodded, but didn’t quite understand his words.
***
Perhaps, at the time, he was trying to ease some of the weight on his consciousness. If he had been aware of the way my heart beat at every pixelated word, at every breathed word, I had no idea. Although we shared bits of our life, I realized that I held onto a small distance from eighteen years ago that in reality only grew wider by the time.
I realize it now, as I stand up and clap, slowly, to the dazzling couple walking along the carpet all the way to the altar.
I realize now that I have always been like the spring petals, while Ren took off at five kilometers per second.