There are stories of a traveler only one hundred and thirty five centimeters tall with bright eyes and small marks on his cheeks and nose like stars. And he carries a large traveling bag on his back, and it is filled to the brim with a tent, a blanket and pillow, extra changes of clothes, and many boxed chocolate chip cookies. His mother had packed all of the clothes and the traveler packed the many boxed chocolate chip cookies. The traveler heaves all of these belongings on his small back as if the the large bag weighs like a small dust particle.
He travels to strange and peculiar places, like the planet covered in green trees and fauna and another planet that rains sheep from cotton ball clouds upside down. The traveler also has met a boy with wild orange hair not unlike the color of the sun, and another boy with hair as black and immersing as the space around them. He bid farewell to them, because he had to leave soon, or he would not be able to make it there in time.
The traveler leaps across space like holes could suck him up in a single moment. He hurries with a small smile on his lips. Then he jumps, his short arms bent at the elbow and legs stretching out to touch the ground below him. He lands gently on the ground and swivels around and looks at the planet. It is gray here, and the ground is filled with bowls as if rocks smashed into the planet many times in the past. The dark everlasting space spreads out like the love of a mother, and small bits of stars far off shine with pride and joy.
It's beautiful, he thinks, bringing hands to his mouth in awe. It is very beautiful here. Empty, but full of a strange feeling. His eyes close and he breaths in the cool air.
"What are you doing?"
The traveler turns, and behind him is another boy. He is much taller than the traveler, but his face is young and his eyes shine much brighter than the traveler's. This boy has blond hair, a yellow unseen by the traveler until now. Bright yellow, like . . . light. A different kind of light. And his voice is low and quiet. The boy wears a gray blanket thing over his torso, and his long legs are covered with pants of the same color. His eyes, edges creased, study the traveler in suspicion.
"M- me?" he stutters.
The blond boy nods. "What are you doing here. No one should be here except for me."
"I travel, I think," the traveler boy says, blushing out of embarrassment.
"What do you mean you think?"
"My mother just sent me off, saying that I am a traveler."
"What kind of a creature does that, pushing you off like that? How pathetic."
"It's not pathetic!" the traveler boy shouts. "All of us do it! At least, until the time's right. I just don't really know what to do."
"She should have told you what to do then."
"And what about you? What are you doing here?" he asks with a wonder-filled face.
"I live here," says the other boy, warily walking up to him. His golden shimmering hair basked in an unknown light, and the little traveler's eyes widened. "On the moon."
"You live here . . . on the moon?"
"Yes," the moon boy answers.
"But this is a planet," the traveler mumbles.
The moon boy's brows crease together. "This is the moon."
"What's a moon?" the traveler boy blurts. He immediately blushes and lowers his gaze to the bowls in the ground.
"It's a place," the moon boy answers.
"Don't you know more?"
"Even if I did," he continues, "there's no point in telling you. You won't care."
"I . . ." The traveler boy brings his fists his hands. "I care! You can tell me!" He walks up to the other boy, his feet seeming as if they do not touch the ground, but rather propelling him forward.
The moon boy watches in fascination, but does not let the emotion show. "How do you walk so weirdly?"
The traveler cocks his head in confusion. "Everyone walks like this."
"I don't," the moon boy whispers. He steps forward to the traveler, bare feet shuffling on the dust. The traveler boy widens his eyes and his mouth opens in awe.
"It's almost as if you're held to the ground!"
"But you seem like you can float up to space."
"I can float in space. . . You can't?"
The moon boy lowers his gaze, eyes focusing on the feet of the traveler boy. "I live here. I take care of the moon. I watch everything and make sure nothing happens."
"Have you ever seen other planets? Or other creatures like us?" The traveler boy kicks dust with the toe of his shoe. "Is it fun here?"
"I can't see anything from here," the moon boy says. "Except for the sun, stars, and Earth."
"Earth?" the traveler gasps. "What is that?"
"A planet," the moon boy answers. "It's covered in colors, and there are a lot of creatures down there."
The traveler closes his eyes and tries to imagine the world the moon boy described. There would be many creatures. Ones with four legs or six legs, maybe some look like him. Color. There would be gray and black and white. Colors like sunlight and colors like the moon boy's yellow hair. There would be colors he could not imagine. Colors like the red stars and the blue stars. . . .
"Have you seen a shooting star before?" the traveler asks the moon boy.
The moon boy shakes his head. "I hear stories about them. I've only seen stars, not shooting stars."
"Did you know," the traveler boy continues excitingly, "that when stars fall, creatures around the universe make wishes? Isn't it weird how creatures think a single star can make all of those wishes come true?"
"Why?" the moon boy asks. "It's just a star falling. What's so special about it?"
The traveler boy looks around as if searching for an answer. "Well-" He stops. He runs off energetically and floats up in the space. The moon boy follows slowly. The traveler's eyes shine in some strange mixture of colored light. "Is that Earth?" The moon boy looks down and nods.
"That's Earth."
"Hey," the traveler boy calls. The moon boy looks up to him, and a strange excitement fills him. "Do you want to know what's so special about falling stars?" His voice rises in an absolute rushing flurry of feeling. The moon boy watches confusingly as the traveler lowers himself to the moon boy's side.
"What are you-"
The traveler boy runs. The moon boy recalls seeing so much color in the boy's eyes, and a wide smile of happiness. The traveler continues, racing in space, rapidly gaining flashes of speed. The space behind him becomes a trail of white, and his arms bend at an angle and his legs stretch out, as if to touch the earth below him. The moon boy races after him, but can't catch up. He could never catch up. The traveler boy is falling to the earth in an immense radiation of color and emotion.
The feelings wave inside of him. It's beautiful, he thinks, bringing hands to his chest in awe. It is very beautiful here. Full of emotion, but calming. His eyes close and he breaths in the cool air. Fingers fit in the spaces between his knuckles. The moon boy brings his clasped hands to his mouth, and he whispers.
"I wish . . ."
"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi calls out. He stops walking. "Look, it's a shooting star!"
Tsukishima looks up and lowers his headphones. "Yeah."
"Shouldn't we make a wish?" Yamaguchi asks. He closes his eyes and clasps his hands in front of his face. "Ah . . . I wish for . . ."
"Yamaguchi," Tsukishima calls out. "The moon."
Yamaguchi opens his eyes and smiles. "It's a full moon!" He is engrossed in staring at the moon, and suddenly he remembers the shooting star. "Ah! The wish! I wish . . ."
"I wish . . . I can see another shooting star again."