Smoke
They were both from a small province, somewhere in Japan. She was his best friend, and he, hers. They lived in the same rural village; neighbours. Their parents were good friends, and both the boy and the girl shared the same interests.
Two wooden houses stood by each other, the sun dappling their roofs. It was a nice day, and a girl with long brown hair scrambled out, shouting.
"Kaji! Kajiii! Dosu gave birth! She gave birth!"
And from the next house, swift footsteps would be heard, tumbling down and out of the door, and the excited face of a boy would be seen.
"Really? Where!"
"Come, follow me!" and she would take him by the hand, dragging him to the place with the hay-covered floor, where the cow lay with her newborn calf.
They were six; the best of friends.
She was pretty; with bright grey eyes and a ready smile. The village beauty. The one all the men went after, once she had turned sixteen. He was no different; tall and strong, but kind, sensitive and funny. The women swooned for him, dreaming dreams of love and happiness and many children, but knew that their efforts of getting him to notice them were all in vain, for his heart was now another's.
They had found love in each others' eyes.
The girl and the boy spent a lot of time together after that, lying down in the cool grass while the stars twinkled above, or sitting by each other by the clear stream that ran through the blue-grey rocks.
He would tell her things; things that would make her smile grow and her heart flutter, but no more than that.
"I will love you until the moon falls from the sky…until the sky cries a thousand tears of blood…"
And she would just smile back, not really realizing anything.
Both their parents resented the coupling immediately; the boy was forbidden to see the girl ever again, and she was not permitted to go within ten yards of him, under her strict mother's watchful eye.
"But I love him!" she complained, her grey eyes crying out for mercy. Her mother would just shake her head.
"No. Where will your dreams go? What about your future?" there was a dangerous edge in both her parents' voices, and the girl would retreat to her room in a fit of depression; wishing for nothing but the freedom to see her love again.
Before long, both the boy and the girl turned seventeen, and were sent with wishes of luck, to the city, Tokyo, to study. He had aspirations of becoming an engineer, and she, of performing as an actress.
Ayu looked at her suitcase of clothes, and sighed deeply. The bus was going to arrive anytime soon, and she had already bid farewell to her parents and her friends. They all wished her luck and blessings in the city, and Ayu was pretty excited and nervous about finally beginning to fulfil her dreams.
Her mind drifted to Kaji.
He had left for the city a week ago, to study at the university. She wondered where he was now, and if he had met new people. After all, their parents had forbidden any sort of contact between the two, and there were prettier and more sophisticated people in the city.
Ayu sighed and felt a twang of jealousy inside herself.
A noise interrupted her thoughts. It was loud, rusty and came with a cloud of dust.
The bus.
She arrived in the city at around nightfall, when the bright lights began to light up. The giant buildings towered into the sky, and the girl, not used to seeing such things, stepped back and held her breath in awe.
There were cars everywhere—and people, too!
The kind man who met her at the bus stop escorted her to the dormitory where she was going to stay.
Ayu stared at the white walls, the four flat beds and the small window.
She was in the city now, and from there, a million possibilities opened themselves up to her.
Kaji met her soon after, as they attended the same school. It was a moment of a rush of a hundred emotions; bliss, worry, curiosity…
He smiled at her and asked her how she was.
Fine, she said.
Are you okay in the dorm?
Yes.
There was a momentary pause, as a large truck whizzed past them both.
Have you met anyone? She asked him, feeling that twang of jealousy once again.
He grinned at her.
Yes, he said, Many people. But none as pretty as you.
She blushed, and they smiled at each other, both realizing the same thing.
Freedom lay before them.
A few months passed, and in the first wooden house in the small province, somewhere in Japan, a woman sat at the dining table of her home, in front of her husband.
"How about we visit Ayu this weekend?" she suggested.
Her husband, a cup of sake by his elbow, drained it. He looked at her carefully.
"Do you know how much it costs to get to Tokyo?"
She hesitated, and pulled a white envelope out of her skirt.
"Yes."
The bus arrived at the city once more, and the couple stepped out, surprised at how big it had grown since they had last visited it some years ago. The father hailed a taxi, and gave the driver the name of the dormitory that their daughter was staying in.
The man nodded; it was not far from where they were. The couple sat in silence, at the backseat for some minutes, and then, the taxi stopped.
A receptionist looked at them both a bit blearily, her eyes bloodshot.
"Are you Yumi's parents?" she asked, pressing her hands on the counter to steady herself.
The mother shook her head.
"We're here to see Ayu."
The receptionist paused.
"Ayu's not here."
"Where is she?"
The woman took out a record book and flipped the pages. "She left half an hour ago, with a young man."
The father stiffened at her words.
"What did he look like?"
"Brown hair, a bit tall, seemed like a nice kid. He smiled a lot."
Ayu's parents looked at each other.
"Kaji."
She came back to the dorm at around eight in the evening, only to see her parents sitting at the lobby. A glass of orange juice lay on the table in front of her mother, while her father's sake bottle was nestled in the cushions, beside him.
"Where's Kaji?" her father asked her, in a dangerous, low voice. Ayu tensed.
They had gone to a friend's house, watched some dvds, then had gone out to see a lantern parade on one of the main roads. It was unclear what happened after that and neither one of her parents could get a coherent answer out of Ayu.
"You must understand," said her mother. "It cannot be like this. You are here in the city to study—!"
Her father growled something similar, and Ayu was too weak-willed to say otherwise. They made her promise never to see Kaji again.
Her parents left soon after that, both in a bad mood. For Ayu's mother, it was more of a worried state.
She was afraid for her daughter; for by being with that boy, she was putting something very important at stake. Mrs. Tateishi only hoped that her girl would be smart enough to resist what she knew was wrong; to have the wisdom to choose the right path.
Ayu walked up the stairs to her room, and turned the knob. Her lower body was hurting somewhat, and she was unusually tired after coming home, and after the exchange with her parents.
Her roommates weren't there yet; they had all gone out together a while ago, to attend a party.
A sickly shade of grey came to her face, and Ayu rushed to the window, leaned over the side, and vomited.
Outside, it began to rain, and the water washed her vomit away. As the smoke and the pollution filled the already grey sky, a bus rattled slowly through Tokyo's streets, carrying two fearful parents back to their home.
Where now, are your dreams?
What of your future?
Thirty minutes
03/03/05
An AU one-shot
Writing this was strange; I don't really like Ayu, same for Kaji. Oh well. One of the more…moral stories in my inventory. Review please:-)