Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously.
Beautiful Dreamer
A tribute to Inui Sadaharu and Yanagi Renji
- - -
For all your notes and calculations, you were always the dreamer, Sadaharu. You wanted to be an astronaut, go to the depths of the oceans and make new discoveries, calculate the next big meteor that would crash into the Earth, develop a better type of airplane. Those were your dreams at the age of ten.
I know because you told me -- all your dreams, all those hopes and plans for the future.
I know because we made them together.
But the world moves on. The world doesn't care. It's just me, then, left in a world of memory. We can't go back, but I'm stuck in the past.
Do you remember, Sadaharu? Can you still see that day before your eyes?
It's spring, we're ten years old, and you're smiling at me and saying that next time -- next time for sure, kyoujou -- you won't let me win the rally as easily as that. I smile, but then I remember what day it is... I'm moving away tomorrow. But I can't tell you. I just can't. All I can do is run away, because I don't want to see the expression of hurt on your face when you hear. I don't look back, just keep running, because I know you look hurt and bewildered now. And it's because of me.
Summer's coming around, and we're already third years in junior high. You look exactly the same as you did four years, two months, and fifteen days ago, Sadaharu. I want to say that to you, but I just turn around and get ready for the match. It's been so long, and I wonder if we can truly bridge the gap that has opened between us. Why have we waited so long? We saw each other at matches last year, we ran into each other during tournaments -- why didn't you ever say anything? I wanted you to walk over from the other side of the stadium and just say hello. But you never did.
Autumn's here, bringing down the fluttering leaves in fits and starts. This time, you're the one running away, disappearing before my eyes. I can't keep you here, no more than the unpredictable wind can grasp the leaves it tears down. I can only watch you be carried away in the flow, as you turn and say, with a small smile, "Goodbye, Renji." And I know that you've moved on.
Was winter always this cold? It's snowing, each flake falling like a glimmer of frozen sunshine onto the dark streets, while I sit by my window and watch them. You would have tried to calculate the rate at which the snow is falling. Perhaps I would have, too, once upon a time. But I've learned that there are some things that exceed the realm of data and calculations. I wonder to myself, shivering as I place a hand against the frozen window pane, why didn't I try to keep you with me? Why did I even want to?
Here, in the midst of falling snow and gray-blue skies -- here is a memory that we will not have in common. It is almost midnight, and I know you are in your dorm room at college, working on your assignment for the morrow. Your kouhai comes up to you silently, and gently hugs you from behind. My mind idly imagines what it feels like to have a pair of warm arms embrace me now, what it would feel like to have that warmth break through my cold winter.
I miss Hawaii, suddenly, as I glance to the nightstand and see that old picture of us, when we were ten. I miss the blue sky, the sunshine, the perfect, sparkling waves, the glimmering white sand, and that warmth -- the warmth that came from you, my friend. My best friend.
It's strange, but I can't recall a single time when we referred to each other as "my best friend." Maybe it was because we never had to tell anyone. They could already tell, back then, when we were in elementary school.
But it would have been nice, looking back now...
If only I had that one memory to hold on to.
And now I can't help but smile and shake my head at myself. I always called you a dreamer, Sadaharu, but who is the dreamer now? Would you laugh at me, if you could hear my thoughts?
They say the seasons keep changing, and nothing can ever stop that cycle. I suppose they don't think about what happens when the Earth no longer exists, when everything has settled to equilibrium and life ceases to exist.
But life still goes on, for now. And the seasons will turn, one to the next, and again and again.
Winter will pass to spring, and spring again will pass to summer, summer to fall, and fall to winter, and winter to spring again. There is despair in such a cycle, for where is the reason?
But whatever it may be, there is still hope in spring. It's in the nature of humanity, I suppose. Perhaps you could tell me, Sadaharu. I know you read up on philosophy. You were ten, carrying that heavy volume back and forth from school, to the perplexity of all your teachers and classmates. I was there beside you, watching you with amusement.
It was spring, then, wasn't it? I remember. The sakura was just starting to bloom, filling the air with that brand new scent. It felt as if the whole world could be ours.
I wish I could recapture that, even though I know dwelling on the past is useless.
I just wish spring would come around once again.