It was summer. Hot, sweltering summer; fun, butterfly-chasing summer; lazy, uneventful summer… The perfect time to stretch out on a beach blanket and not think about anything for a while. Kumiko wiped her forehead, too relaxed to get up. It was clear no one was going to do much moving around today.
"Kumikooo!" Punchy called, snapping her out of her reverie. He ran up, panting. "Elvis said…" He sputtered, trying to catch his breath. "He said he was gonna go!" Kumiko sat up quickly. She swallowed hard. She and Elvis hadn't been the closest of friends, but he was charming in his focused, reserved way. He would only say a few words, but there was an undercurrent of affection with them, always.
"Could you take me to him?" The mayor asked. "There's something I ought to say."
Elvis had just finished securing his things in boxes when they walked in. He looked up, the packing tape sticky on his fur.
"Mayor Kumiko." She nodded to Punchy and he left the house quietly.
"It's not just a rumor, then," she said, referencing the sparse state of the room. "I guess you wouldn't listen to me if I told you to stay?" He looked her over. Her mouth was set in a soft line, but her eyes were watering.
"No, queen, I think it's my time." She swallowed again, reaching for words that pricked the back of her mouth but wouldn't come any further than that. She remembered when he gave her that nickname, forcing it on her then asking if it would be OK. He was almost shy, then. Every time he used it for her, she remembered the day he'd come out of his shell.
No one else was allowed to use it, of course.
"But what can you do elsewhere that you can't do here?" Kumiko knew her town wasn't perfect. It took her months, sometimes, to put up public works projects, but it was pretty and clean, and the villagers were nice. Isabelle brought everyone coffee on Mondays and the sunsets were always beautiful.
"I got offered a gig," he admitted, twisting the tufts of his mane between his paws. "In a city. This could turn big, queen, and I—"
Kumiko waited. It made sense for him to want a more fast-paced life. Say it, please. Say I didn't do anything wrong, that you just want more neon lights and less of a star's glow.
"I just want that speed, you know? That energy. It's so powerful. It brings so many people together and man," he paused. "I want that all over me."
He looked at her again. I've said too much, he thought to himself sadly. Our last meeting, and I've ruined it with my talk of city lights. But just as he had given up hope, Kumiko smiled. It was the radiant smile that had first charmed him, full of promise and cheer. He smiled too. After a moment's thought, he reached out a paw. Kumiko took it in her hand.
"Good luck, queen. I'm sure you'll make this town a great one."
"Good luck, king," she started, pausing to wipe a tear from her cheek. "I'm sure you'll become a star."
He left the next day. He and Kumiko stood with dreams in their hearts, lifelines tying them to different places. Elvis may be far away, living a dream with different colors and people and sounds, Kumiko reasoned to herself. But we're doing the same thing, really. She looked at the other villagers gathered to send him off. Both of us are giving people light.