A lovely spring night
suddenly vanished while we
viewed cherry blossoms
—Haiku by Matsuo Basho
Asougi Kazuma's proud yet kind face is the first thing I see when I open my tired eyes.
"It's a good morning, partner. —Although actually, for the rest of the country, it's already the afternoon."
I drew my eyebrows together at his greeting, trying to figure out why it sounded so strange to my ears—then I realized that he had said the words "good morning" in English. I smiled and felt the weight of a damp piece of cloth that someone—probably Mother—had placed on my forehead while I was sleeping. It wasn't all that surprising to see Asougi intruding in my room without much difficulty—he had developed that unfortunate habit of dropping in unannounced ever since we became good friends, after all, so much that my family has grown used to it over time.
"Morning," I feebly returned his energetic greeting, but in our native tongue, and Asougi's smile was tinged slightly with worry. My eyelids feel unnaturally warm, making even blinking at him quite uncomfortable.
"Are you alright? I was plenty worried when I heard that you weren't in any of your classes." Asougi was kneeling on a cushion beside my futon, his intense dark eyes relentlessly trained on me as if I'm going to burst into smoke or something if he ever looked away.
"It's just a fever, Asougi." I was touched by that show of devotion, but it was also kind of embarrassing to be watched like that all the time. I silently hoped that the redness of my face was enough to cover the embarrassed blush that I should be sporting right now. It didn't suit me well to be the center of anyone's attention, let alone Asougi's—his one-track mind comes clear across anyone when he fixes them with a look.
He was still in his dark school uniform. The red bandanna was around his forehead like always. "So you came running right after classes, is that it?" I chuckled, but the sound was rough and dry. Asougi was already pouring out some water in a cup even before I turned my head to glance at the pitcher that Mom had left there. He was preternaturally perceptive like that when it came to gauging his friends' moods—it could be quite unnerving at times. "Here you go, Naruhodou," he said gravely, and I sat up and downed the soothing drink in three huge gulps. "Thanks," I finally managed, and to my relief, my voice wasn't as harsh as before.
His eyes glanced around as if he was trying to decide how to word his next sentence. "I'm sleeping over tonight," he announced, a slightly defensive look on his face, as if he was expecting me to object. "I already have permission from your parents."
"I figured," I deadpanned. "I would be more surprised if you didn't, actually."
He seemed relieved at my lack of antagonism to his presence, which was pretty funny considering that we had always slept over at each other's homes on occasion. He must have thought that I'd be offended because he didn't get my permission first—Asougi really was a bit too serious at times.
"I also brought you the notes from today's classes. Took me a bit of work to track down your classmates," he said, offhandedly, which made me choke a bit on my drink. He helped me clear my throat by slapping my back periodically as I coughed out water. "You did what?" I finally sputtered out when the fit died down, imagining Asougi threatening my classmates to hand over the notes by brandishing Karuma at them. My face must have turned pale, because he had the decency to look slightly remorseful as he pushed me back down with all the fuss of a mother hen.
"Well… I was quite sure you'd have made yourself worse by worrying yourself over your absence," he said with a frown. "Haven't you?"
"Yeah, but that was before I started puking up my lunch—and then staying at home didn't seem so bad after all." While Asougi pulled a face at my tactless remark, I replaced the towel on my forehead. It seemed rather dry by now, so I didn't feel relieved at all and promptly pulled it away from my face. "But I appreciate the thought, all the same. Thanks for deciding to stay over and everything. I'm sure I'll be able to throw this fever off come nightfall."
"Of course." Noticing that I have thrown the towel away, Asougi leaned over and dripped some of the water from the pitcher on the towel so that I can put it back on my forehead. Accepting another of my thanks with a nod, he then settled back on his heels and turned his gaze back at me yet again. "I'm sorry that I only noticed when I went to the classroom to fetch you for lunch and you weren't there, though. I could have visited you much earlier if I had known."
"Earlier? You mean before classes?" I laughed, then stopped when my nausea surfaced yet again. "You couldn't possibly have visited me and gotten to class on time. We're not exactly living in the same side of town."
"Still. I should have known sooner." Asougi fiddled nervously with Karuma, which was laying down beside him, unhooked from its usual strap around his waist. I quietly hoped that he didn't do that around a sick person—it made me feel slightly jumpy, even though logically I knew he wasn't about to take it out and open his guts or something.
Ugh. That mental picture just made me queasier.
"Stop beating yourself up, Asougi. Seriously. It's making me feel worse." And stop touching the sword with that look in your eyes, I beg you.
"Oh. Sorry." Dropping the subject like I requested, Asougi's eyes flicked around my room, as if trying to pick a topic that can steer the conversation to safer waters. The unnecessarily huge effort he is making just to make me feel better after his slip-up is quite charming, to say the least.
"The… the cherry blossoms are starting to fall," he finally managed, uncertainly. He must have seen the shadows that the falling flowers were creating against the thin window shutter. This was almost as bad as talking about the weather—I would have laughed if I didn't know that he'd take it as an offense. Knowing that Asougi was terrible at making small talk, I instead searched for something in my mind so that I can dignify his remark.
"One of my professors once said something interesting," I said slowly. "That cherry blossoms are very beautiful not because of their shape or their color or their fragrance—but because they are extremely short-lived."
Asougi seemed surprised at the direction I carried the conversation to. "I guess we as a people do enjoy watching them fall from the trees," he conceded, thoughtfully. "It's quite a morbid pastime, when looked at from another angle."
I grinned. "Yes, I would say so. I'd hate to think if we're in the position of the flowers and then we fall off and people come to—"
Asougi's expression made me break off and grin. It's not every day that one gets the chance to rattle the unflappable genius Asougi Kazuma like this, after all. The wave of nausea overtakes me again, however, and I must have made a face, because Asougi dropped his frown and half-rose in case I wanted the pail, but I grabbed at his leg and made him stop. "'M fine," I croaked, and with a slight scowl, he dropped back on his cushion. His legs must have become numb already, because he breaks off from his formal sitting position and instead crosses his legs below him.
"Anyway, it seems that you're in no serious danger." He smiled tentatively. "Do you think you'll be well enough to go to school tomorrow, Naruhodou?"
"Yes. One night's sleep should do it." I returned his smile.
"I should probably leave you to rest for now, then. My presence is probably making you worse." He made a concerned face and rose from his seat. "I'll be right on the other side of the panel if you need me. I'll just arrange my things or something while waiting for dinner."
I managed a thin smile. "Thank you again, Asougi."
"Don't be. This is a trifle." Nodding at me one more time, Asougi picked up the sword and murmured a goodbye before he left, carefully shutting the sliding panel behind him. That sliding panel, being a mere divider to save space and not actually a proper wall, is so thin that I can clearly hear him settle down and probably change out of his stuffy school uniform into something more appropriate for moving around the house. Mother must have laid out another of my spare clothing for him to wear. I slid my hot eyelids closed and tried to drift off to sleep.
"…Ryuunosuke-sama. It is time to eat. Will you be coming to the table?"
Suddenly, I was awakened by the voice of Mother's girl servant. I cracked my eyes open to stare at the dark room, the faint light from the girl's candle the only illumination I can rely on to see my surroundings. It must be evening already. "Y-Yes, I will," I said weakly, deciding that it would be rude to Asougi to not show up for dinner at the very least, even though the thought of food was making my stomach turn. When the light faded away, I slowly sat up and felt the heavy towel fall from my forehead onto my lap. I quickly lit the lantern beside my futon and got up, thankful that I was steadier than I thought I would be. My sleeping robe was soaked through with sweat. I should take another bath after dinner.
The panel separating my side of the room from Asougi's slid open, and my friend peered in—he was kneeling on the floor, so he had to look up at me. It was a strange feeling to look down at Asougi, who had always been taller than me. Mother's servant must have already summoned him to dinner as well. "Are you sure you want to have dinner at the table?" he whispered hoarsely. I nodded with a slight grin at his worried expression. "Let's go together," I suggested, and scowling slightly, Asougi finally stood and joined me at my side of the room so we can exit together, my lantern illuminating the dimly-lit hallway better.
Our dinner was a strangely heterogeneous one—apparently the meal was supposed to be the fat fowl that Mother had bought this morning, but due to Asougi's abstinence, his meal was composed mostly of vegetables, while I had to make do with a thin rice gruel to help fill my stomach without aggravating it. Mother's girl servant thought to put a little chicken meat in it, though, perhaps so that I can be enticed to finish the food. I was a bit thankful for that small gesture, because the tasteless gruel wasn't appetizing in the least.
Dinner was typically quiet and simple in the Naruhodou household, but it was much more relaxed than the dinners in Asougi's house. Being a much more distinguished family than ours, the Asougis were big on etiquette and form, and their dinners were almost always on the spare end because Asougi was raised to believe that disciplining the stomach by ingesting the simplest of foods is the first step to conquering the spirit. However, Asougi himself seemed to tolerate meat dishes when necessary—unless it was composed of chicken, on which occasion he absolutely refuses to eat. Sometimes I wonder if, in a past life, my friend had been wronged by one of these clumsy birds, to make him hate them so.
Having spoken to the girl servant, the bath was already ready by the time I endure the last of my rice gruel, and I excused myself from the table with a sigh. My father was already readying his smoking pipe, probably about to drag Asougi out on the courtyard to about something. My best friend is really quite a favorite with my parents—like me, they had probably been struck with the sheer clarity of Asougi's personality. It was like admiring the pure technique of a master swordsman, I think. Compared to the clumsy and uncertain son they have, the grown-up air that Asougi had probably was a breath of fresh air. I'm so busy agreeing with their opinion that there wasn't room for any jealousy at all.
—It was either because I am so easily pleased, or because I am such a weak person, that I haven't really considered Asougi as much of a rival as he thinks I am to him. Such depressing thoughts accompanied me as I splashed the lukewarm water all over myself in the long wooden tub, my movements sluggish as the water lapped up at my chin and my drawn-up knees. I lazily watched the steam rise out of the water, their white trails drawing patterns in the chilly air as I stared.
The sliding panels between our rooms were already opened as widely as it can go when I returned, making it look as if the two of us were in an extra large room. Asougi was wearing a brown robe and was seated on his futon, his brow furrowed as he read a book. It didn't seem to be one of his textbooks—it was probably some light reading he brought to pass the time away. He looked up when he heard me close the door. "How was the bath?" he asked me politely. I made a noise that I hoped passed for approval before I sank back on my futon, exhausted. "It's your turn," I drawled. "If you want." He nodded and closed his book with a snap. "I'll take you up on it, then," he said solemnly, and left me alone in the semi-darkness. The lantern on his side of the room was still burning. My face was cast half in shadow.
I must have dozed off, because when I opened my eyes, a slight rustling from somewhere to my left indicated that Asougi had already returned. I turned my head and stared at him. Asougi's hair was slightly damp, and his red headband was already neatly folded beside his pillow. Karuma was quietly resting in the far corner of the room, its immaculate white hilt gleaming in the weak firelight. Asougi's robe was loose around his chest, making him look far more casual than he allowed himself to be outside. His dark eyes had glanced over at me.
"Better?" he asked me. The color must have started to return to my face, bit by little bit. "Yeah. Much better," I said, allowing myself to smile.
"The sky is beautiful tonight," he remarked, and unlike his awkward cherry blossom comment earlier, his words rang with his usual simple sincerity, so much so that I just had to cross the line dividing the two of us to go and see the sight for myself. On Asougi's side of the room, the windows had been opened, giving us a breathtaking glimpse of the river of stars glittering like jewels upon the dark night sky. "I'm sure the view is better by the riverside, though," I said, absentmindedly, and he turned to blink at me owlishly.
I knew that look—that was the one he usually gave me before saying something either incredibly stupid or insanely genius. "Let's go, partner," he announced, grinning, rising to his feet and holding out a hand to me. I stared at him incredulously, sure that he had lost his mind. "We're not dressed for a walk," I protested, indicating my loose gray clothing. "And I'm still recovering," I added lamely.
"It doesn't matter, Naruhodou," he said with bright eyes. "The fresh air would do you good. This room is too stuffy for a sick person."
And as always, with just that one push, I felt myself giving in.
This must be a delirious dream brought about by my fever. Perhaps I'm not yet well after all. Because if this was real life… why did I grab his hand and let him pull me up? Why did this brilliant night sky seem so close to the two of us, enticingly so, that I can believe that even I, let alone Asougi, can reach out and pluck out some of the stars like they were mere stones on the side of the road?
We slip out of the house easily and sprint through this gentle spring evening, our hands still clasped between the two of us, our feet hitting the ground unconcernedly, as if we were but little boys weaving through the empty streets. I'm relieved, at least, that what few passersby there were seemed to care little enough for the strange pair that was hurrying down the dirt road. I silently hoped that no one recognizes us, and certain that with the way we are going it is next to impossible, I relax a bit more and let him guide me—like old times.
Now, as we ran through this city of cherry blossoms, their petals drifting from many a tree we pass in our hurry, I looked past the inherent morbidity of the sight, appreciating the beauty of those transient flowers more fully because of the knowledge that they can only bloom for us as we are now, breathless and impulsive and young.
At this moment, the words "Wherever you go, I'll follow" is both easily said and done.
It's not because he did not give me a choice—I could have easily turned over and shut him down—but because somehow I felt so strangely light, finally freed from my pounding headache. And his hand around mine is a gentle, glowing burn, and it's not unpleasant in this cool temperature. The breeze is urging us along, to the river, where we can surely catch the stars if we so wished.
"There." I could hear the silence finally shatter when he stretched his free hand out, his pointing finger directing my eyes to the huge bridge over the river. I remember that it was very recently constructed—made from stone and foreign technology, it looked very impressive indeed, its design unabashedly ornate, but even then rather breathtaking.
We stop at the middle of the bridge, looking up at the sky.
It was a moonless night. However, its absence accentuated the brilliance of the stars against the night sky, a complex pattern of lights in the darkness.
It looked like a silvery river, and its reflection on the real river that streamed below and before us as we watched made it seem as if the stars had traveled down here on earth just to especially accompany us on this evening.
Thousands of pink petals from the row of cherry trees lining the riverbank fell and drifted down to the water, floating like so many little pale boats.
It was a brilliant night. It was a beautiful night. If possible, I'd have hoped that this evening wouldn't end at all, that the sun wouldn't rise tomorrow.
Because that would mean that Asougi and I together could admire such a splendid sight, one that was fit for the very gods themselves.
The warm, solid pressure of Asougi's shoulder against mine seemed so real that I was finally convinced that even all of this wasn't a dream, after all.
"You seem a bit unsteady on your feet, still," he said, suddenly, and I then noticed how tightly my fingers were clamped on the railing of the bridge. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all. Should we go back?"
"It is getting a bit cold," I admitted, chuckling, and he shook his head chidingly. "You should have told me so," he scolded me, reminding me of the Asougi I first met, and was that such a long time ago? It could have been yesterday, the memory was as vivid as the color red upon my friend's brow. "Let's go back, Naruhodou." He led the way, his brown sleeves flapping in the wind, and I was about to take my first step after him when—
"…Oof."
"…Naruhodou?"
"I think my fever is making a turnabout," I said sheepishly. I had stumbled slightly and instinctively reached out to grab Asougi's arm, surprising him and almost making him stumble like myself. So we stood there, awkwardly, my hand fisted in Asougi's sleeve, both of us afraid to move inconsiderately in case we cause the other to fall down. I immediately let go of Asougi, but the heat of embarrassment was already helping my renewed headache along.
His eyes were unreadable, but that was how it was when he was beating himself up for something. In this case, perhaps for convincing me to go out in this weather. "I should have been more responsible," he frowned, and held out his arm. "I'll assist you, so grab onto me and I'll get you home."
"Thanks. Sorry." I was babbling as I battled a particularly nasty wave of nausea. I can barely concentrate on the ground before me, which was riddled with small stones, and after a few steps with me desperately trying not to trip myself up and puke at the same time, Asougi watched me concernedly from the side.
"This won't work."
"Huh?" He had extricated himself from my tight grip, making me sway like a piece of poor bamboo. "Asougi?"
My friend paused, before seemingly deciding on something and finally kneeling before me, keeping his back open, and I hesitated some more till Asougi looked over his shoulder at me and indicated with an impatient gesture that we should get going. I swallowed what little remained of my pride and put my arms around his shoulders and chest, and he picked me up in an ungainly piggyback ride. To the passersby, it must be an odd sight—a pair of twenty-three-year-old men traveling in such a manner, but my worsening headache was much more painful than their stares.
"Ugh. I admit that we're going to be a bit faster this way, but…"
"Try to keep your stomach down, partner. Alright? I don't want any of your dinner down my back."
"I'm apologizing in advance if I do throw up on you later, Asougi."
"Let me think about accepting it."
"Yeah, that's fine."
Unused to doing something undignified like this, it meant that he was also kind of stiff, but I couldn't have hoped for a friendlier back than what Asougi had offered to me. I held on around his shoulders awkwardly, trying not to fall off, as he shouldered my weight with his whole strength. I imagined that his face must have looked difficult as he grit his teeth and trudged slowly on the worn, familiar dust path with a heavy burden on his back. But of course Asougi was patient, and not a word of complaint passed his lips.
"…all."
I suddenly realized that my friend was saying something so softly that, deep as I was in my thoughts, I didn't catch it at all.
"Did you say something, Asougi?"
"I just realized that you have always been there to pick me up when I fall," he repeated, and suddenly I couldn't guess how his face could have looked. I can only stare at the back of his head, at his dark hair, at his fluttering red bandanna. "Haven't you, Naruhodou?"
"That's funny," I replied with a small smile. "Aren't I the one who is getting carried by you right now?"
"I make it a point to always repay favors," he said, and pressed so intimately like this, I could feel rather than hear his voice as the words he had spoken reverberated from his chest. "You mustn't have noticed, being the person that you are, but all I do for you, you have already done for me. It is nothing noble like doing you small kindnesses. You have always been doing these kindnesses for me first."
"I'm pretty sure you just insulted me a little somewhere in that speech, but I'm not sure how," I quipped, and he laughed. My right hand tightened around his left shoulder, and made dizzy by the up-and-down movement of his strides, I touched my forehead ever so slightly against the knot of his bandanna to catch my breath and try to drive my nausea away. We moved on slowly like that in silence. I was pretty sure he can feel my breath ruffle his hair, but he didn't comment on it. My face was burning up despite the evening chill. I'd like to think that it was because of the returning fever. "It's embarrassing to think that you regard me so highly, Asougi."
"The problem with you, partner, is that you don't take credit where credit is due. You always underestimate yourself." Somehow, our voices had sunk to whispers. It wasn't as if we didn't want anyone to hear—there wasn't anyone near us anyway—but the sacred atmosphere that the carpet of stars overhead commanded seemed to convey that we not disturb it by our mortal voices. And so we kept our conversation to ourselves, like a jealously-guarded secret.
"It's just because you are the sun, and I the moon," I said, teasingly. "I'm living on borrowed light. I have to constantly remind myself that I should not steal what's yours."
"There you go again, with that self-deprecation," he replied, and I could hear the smile in his tone. "We're not opposites, Naruhodou."
"You misunderstand me, Asougi." Drunk by the silvery night and drowned by my spinning head, my tongue was loosening itself from the binds of social propriety. "I agree. We're not opposites. We're complements."
"Complements…" His walk had slowed down even further, evidently sensing that even his gentle pace was setting off my headache. Or maybe he was just struck in awe by my statement—I can at least dream. "I see. Yes, you're correct. We're perfect when we work together."
"You push me, I pull you."
"That's right."
"Having said that, I can't really remember when I've last picked you up when you stumbled while walking, so I'm not sure how you're repaying me by doing this," I joked. "I don't think Asougi Kazuma's in the habit of falling onto people."
"You're just clumsy, partner, besides having terrible luck," he fired back, not unkindly. I laughed. His hair smelled slightly of sweat, reminding me that beneath his rigid exterior, Asougi was still heartrendingly human, and riddled with imperfections. "Red headband," I murmured, gently, and I felt his shoulders tense up beneath the cage I had formed with my arms.
"You're now just laughing at me," he said, grudgingly, and I felt the knot of his bandanna shift slightly, as if he had just hung his head. "Not at all," I answered truthfully. He turned his head to me, although with this very close proximity he wouldn't be able to see my face anyway. He looked back on the path before him with a resigned sigh.
"I have won that one battle," he said, enunciating the words weirdly, as if he was reminded once again of the struggles he had with the first tongue twister I had ever given him. I stared at the red proof of his victory that was currently streaming behind him, touching past my cheek with the gentle evening wind, and knew what he wanted me to say.
"You did," I affirmed, and he finally relaxed and allowed me to rest my brow against the back of his head once again. "Like they say, wherever Asougi Kazuma goes, a warm wind blows."
He snorted. "I keep forgetting to ask everyone, but… Who came up with that saying, anyway?"
"'M not sure, myself," I slurred.
To be carried on Asougi's back is not the most comfortable of journeys, I figured. His back was hard and aloof, and it meant that this back I am now carried on must have borne all of the world's loneliness at one point.
Asougi Kazuma has never been my comfort zone.
Asougi Kazuma's brand of support was to push, like he had mentioned. And in response, it was my duty to pull us together, like stitches in a seam.
He was someone who pushed himself hard, and treated others the same way. He wasn't perfect, and he did not seek perfection.
However, he sought improvement, and as his closest friend, as his partner, he expects me to rise to the occasion.
When will I ever earn a red badge of courage like his?
"Stop thinking too hard of yourself, Naruhodou," Asougi suddenly said, reading my thoughts correctly yet again, and I remembered one thing—that today, as I almost drowned because of my stupidity, he was the one who ultimately reined me in.
"Heh." I smiled. "I can never hide my thoughts from you."
"Of course." The smile was in his voice once more. "Tonight, let me do all the carrying, alright, partner?"
"Mm." I thought for a moment. "Can I ask you something, Asougi?"
"Sure."
"Does it tire you to carry me, talk, and walk all at the same time?"
"…Not really. I think." He seemed taken aback at my strange question. "Actually, I'd have to recommend that you up your rice intake at meals. You're rather light for someone your size."
I laughed. "I'll keep that in mind." Then, more quietly, "Asougi, if it's not too much bother, can you keep on talking?"
"Talk about what?" He must have been putting on that flummoxed expression he rarely ever gets. I'm sorry to have to miss that, but I don't exactly have the energy to move from my place on his back.
"Anything," I murmured. "Recite speeches or poems or talk about the weather or my weight or whatever. Just keep on talking. It doesn't matter to me. I just want to hear your voice."
One of Asougi's greatest virtues is that when you need him for something, however strange a request it is, he'll always deliver once he decides to accept. "Alright. Then… ahem. I'll start."
He began reciting one of his lessons that he has apparently learned by heart. Judging from the amount of complicated words, it must be some of his notes from one of his law lectures at school. I lowered my eyes and relaxed. Compared to his soothing voice, the star-filled heavens could be singing a song to the two of us right now, for all I care. The only real thing is Asougi's warm back beneath me, the utterly incomprehensible legalese spoken in his gentle voice, and the rise and fall of his shoulders as he brought me closer to home.
The scent of the flowers hung heavily in the serene evening. They are the flowers of the end and the beginning. They are such wonderfully contradictory things.
Contradictions.
Asougi Kazuma does not contradict the existence of Naruhodou Ryuunosuke, and Naruhodou Ryuunosuke does not contradict the existence of Asougi Kazuma.
"…Naruhodou? Are you asleep?"—the gentle rumbling of my best friend's throat.
I thought I can hear him whisper something at me, but I'm too tired to answer him.
My eyelids were finally too heavy for me.
I let them slide close.
We fill in the blanks the other makes, was the last thought I had before drifting off.
We are perfectly imperfect, together.