Facing Fireflies

Kimiko's first boyfriend was fourteen and very nice. She was thirteen and a little too clumsy, a little too shy, a little too smart. He held her hand as they walked around the playground during break and gave her a kiss on the cheek in the morning and after school. It was nice, for a while, but eventually he started looking at another girl who was a little more graceful, a little more outgoing, a little more attractive.

Kimiko wasn't going to wait around for him to tell her the news.

The next day she stammered through an explanation after classes were let out, blushing furiously when she couldn't seem to get the words out. She hated looking silly, especially in front of other people, especially in front of boys.

He looked hurt for a moment, a long moment, but finally nodded, bemused, and attempted a weak, faltering smile.

Kimiko turned her back on him before he could turn his back on her.

X

She found herself with a date when she was studying for her entrance examination into college, not that she needed to- her friends pointed out time and again.

They'd been in the same class forever, literally, and only recently had she noticed his sharp gaze and undeniable charisma. Her friends; for that's what they were, a cluster of similar aged females with like minds that she could spend time around but was cautious in divulging secrets to, all told her she should go for it.

In the end, she didn't- but he did.

He asked her to a movie. She agreed hesitantly because even though she was feeling fairly confident about the upcoming test of her academic aptitude, she still hadn't studied enough to feel completely sure about her results.

She liked being completely sure.

If there was one thing she could feel fully confident in, it was her intelligence. She took great pride in her abilities and didn't hesitate to correct anyone who questioned them. She also didn't appreciate when people assumed that, because of her father and his company, she was only doing as well as she was because of her family.

Which is exactly why the charismatic, sharp-eyed boy didn't get a second date.

In fact, he barely got a first one.

It wasn't that Kimiko was exceptionally sensitive to people being condescending to her or making undue assumptions that insulted everything she'd worked for, although maybe she was- just a little. Rather her date couldn't have been more transparent if he were made of glass. She stayed for the movie; it cost money after all, and let him drive her home. He suggested they not go home right yet, they could drive around a bit and maybe…

She was having none of that.

When he leaned in at the end of the night she promptly slapped him across the face and exited the car. Not tonight she thought angrily as he cursed her out for being a cold, rich bitch and drove away with squealing tires.

It doesn't hurt she told herself. I've dealt with this before, with so many friends. This doesn't hurt at all. This is nothing new.

But she wasn't smart enough to believe it.

X

It had been a rough week.

Her friends were in another fight. They always seemed to be getting in fights and Kimiko just didn't have the energy to get involved. Instead, she stayed on the sidelines and refused to support one side or the other. This, incredibly, made them angrier at her than they'd been at each other.

They threw words at her with a special brand of loathing- used specially designed verbal weapons that locked on to the precise weak areas in her armour. The weak areas she'd told them about in confidence. It made her wonder why she even tried at all.

It was a twisted political game, and not the kind she liked. She knew it would die down eventually, but until then she was alone.

More alone than usual.

She spent her time carefully constructing an origami firefly.

It took a while, it was an advanced form and she wasn't at all experienced in the careful art of paper folding. With the end in sight, she pulled on a delicate flap a little too enthusiastically and tore off half the wing. Frustrated, she found an old jar and threw it in, bottling it up hastily and placing it on her desk and out of the way so that she could forget about another challenge she'd failed.

She didn't have time for such pointless endeavours anyway.

Hiro had come to her room a few times, smiling giddily as he showed her some exciting page in his new manga or mentioned a new fact he'd read online about Star something-or-other. She humoured him; smile faltering as he pointed out that her room light had gone out. She looked up in mild alarm.

It was true.

She hadn't noticed, not in the daytime, but now that it was getting steadily darker it was a little more obvious. Hiro seemed oddly concerned about her and she smiled a little more genuinely at the thought. He really was a sweet boy, just a little misguided, a little too caught up in his fantasy world.

She sent him away with a promise that she'd fix it soon.

She didn't.

It may have been melodramatic but she didn't do any work in there anyway, so it wasn't exactly necessary. Anyway, it was nice to have an outside indicator of how she was feeling inside. Her dad never noticed and, for all Hiro's attempts at cheeriness, she still felt blank and dull at the end of the day.

The end of the week came in much the same fashion as the start, when she found herself minus one broken paper firefly and a very old jar she'd been keeping for sentimental purposes. Frustrated, she confronted Hiro on it but he claimed innocence and she couldn't stand to stay angry at him. Instead, she got angry at herself for losing it in the first place.

It was easier to be angry at herself.

Two weeks went by and Kimiko, to everyone outside her home, was the same young woman she'd always been. Her work was prompt and of excellent quality, if exceedingly overlooked, and her social relations were impeccable if a little clinical. Her father nodded at her over breakfast, if he didn't have early meetings, and she took that as the praise she was pretty sure it was meant to be taken as.

'Pretty sure' never quite felt good enough, for some reason.

It was the end of a long Tuesday as she dragged herself up the stairs. Things weren't completely out of her control, but they were more difficult with the amount of power she held in her father's company.

The things she could do if he'd only let her.

As she approached her room she grew wary, there was a soft glow emitting from under the closed door. She looked about her but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Cautiously she stepped forward and pushed gently at the door. It wasn't above Hiro to pull pranks, but…

"Hiro," She murmured softly as he appeared out of the corner of her eye with another presence, a spiky black head of hair trying to hide behind her smaller brother. "What's going on?"

"Not me. Ando. Go see."

Ando?

She gave him a last suspicious look, catching Ando's soft brown eyes as he uncurled himself with a hesitant but boisterous smile. She turned away before she could give an answering smile in return (it was hard not to) and walked into her room.

On her desk, carefully bare of clutter but dusty from the past few weeks of disuse, there was her missing jar filled with fireflies, and not of the paper variety. Seven, she counted. There were seven buzzing, adult fireflies, banging against their glass entrapment, lighting up her room ever so faintly.

It was… completely unexpected. That's how she rationalized the sudden stinging of her eyes, the ache in her heart. She didn't know what to make of it.

And then Ando was there in her doorway. He smiled, bowed, and left. A hand to her mouth, she sat down heavily on her bed and watched the jar. For how long, she didn't know. She knew their short fate was set in stone whether she released them or not, but it felt like the right thing to do anyway.

She took a moment to compose herself and walked to Hiro's room, giving him a chaste kiss on the forehead when he looked up from his manga. He smiled, what a smile her little brother had, and she left to get herself a light bulb. After installing it in her room, perched precariously on her desk chair and determined to do it right even if she hadn't actually changed a light bulb before, she brushed the hair off her face and picked up the jar.

It was cool outside, the end of spring slowly dissolving into summer. She set the jar down on matted grass and knelt behind it, smiling. Then she twisted off the cap and watched as the flaming insects struggled out and surrounded her on their way to freedom.

They sparkled their way into the night and Kimiko let out a mournful sigh, closing her eyes and allowing herself to feel the night on her skin. Then she turned and faced the world.