Oniisan 9: Crash
Kiyota and I only spoke again when we got to the beach. The sun was setting but the floodlights were on. Beyond the sea wall, the lights from the Ryonan High gym spilled out of their glass windows. The distant shouts of their captain faded in the coming warmth of summer.
"They're still training," I said, jogging to keep up with Kiyota, who had dropped his bag by one of the light posts and kicked off his shoes. "It's strange for Kainan to have finished so early."
Kiyota snorted. "No matter how hard they train, we'll beat then any day."
I frowned but copied him, stripping off my blazer and rolling up the sleeves of my shirt. "What I meant...was that it's strange for Oniisan to be so complacent about Inter-Highs."
"He isn't." Kiyota stared out at the retreating sea, hands on his hips. "You don't see it, but Maki-san's been making everyone work real hard." Then he grinned at me. "We deserve a break every now and then."
"That's why we're here?" Mimicking his stance, I shot him a quizzical look.
He grinned back. "Nah. We're here because there's something I've been wanting to do and just needed to drag someone into it."
"Cheat," I muttered, but followed him towards the damp sands anyway. "So why are we here? Serious answers only."
"We'll be shell hunting."
"In the dark? Are you insane?"
"Over you, yes," he replied cheekily, to which he received rolled eyes. "Besides, it's not completely dark because of the floodlights. And we're using flashlights. It makes looking for those purple shells more romantic."
"Purple shells can only be found at the bottom of the ocean," I said, flashing the torch across the sand in my immediate vicinity. "If you wanted purple so badly you could just buy dye, you know?"
But Kiyota was searching on his hands and knees. He looked like a child, scooping up handfuls of wet sand and moulding them into lumps. If he wasn't doing that he was digging holes like crazy.
"Are you searching or playing?"
"Both," he said, grinning up at me. "You've got to have fun looking for those purple shells, or they won't mean anything."
"Like I said, they're only found at the bottom of the ocean –"
"Not that kind of purple shell." Dropping the sand lump, he put his hands together and flapped them open and closed. "We're looking for these –" flap, flap, "– types of shells. But they've got to be purple and have to match."
"You're setting yourself up for failure."
"But I still have to do my best."
"They're just shells, Kiyota. You know? Empty houses of dead mollusks? What are you trying so hard for?"
"Purple shells mean everlasting love, Yulia-san. If you find a pair, it means you and the person you love the most will be together forever."
"That's just superstition." But I dropped down to help him search, anyway. We went as far as the floodlights could reach, wading in the ankle-deep water and getting sufficiently sprayed by the tiny waves, all to no avail. Those purple shells refused to be found.
"Maybe they don't exist," I mused as we walked back inland. My sleeves were wet and damp sand crusted on my legs. Kiyota decided to call it a night only after the Ryonan gym lights went off. Our flashlights swung across the beach.
"Sure they do. They're just really hard to –" Then he dove down, yanked something off the sand, and hopped up with the biggest grin I'd ever seen.
"Look!" He shoved the shell at me. "Purple!"
"It's broken." One half of the bivalve had a gaping hole in it.
"It's still purple!" Without warning he grabbed my hands. The broken half pressed against my skin, cool and smooth and sharp and gritty. "Thank you for coming to help. You really are a lucky charm, Yulia-san!"
He was giddy all the way back home, so happy I couldn't be annoyed over his incessant chattering. It felt right to have done a good deed. When we parted at the driveway I had internalized what he told me about purple shells and looking for them. All it took was a bit of patience.
The first thing I heard when I let myself in was "Okaeri." Oniisan was standing at the hall, apparently waiting for me. I scrambled to check the time.
"Ten-thirty," he supplied.
I told him I wouldn't stay out too late... "Sorry. We got...carried away."
Something murderous flashed in his eyes, but went away just as quickly as it appeared. "Your uniform's wet."
I fidgeted. It had been so long since we last had a normal conversation that talking about mundane things felt really weird. "Ah...we were...shell hunting."
"In the dark?"
What did I tell Kiyota about being insane? "He said...we...we were looking for purple shells and we did have flashlights..."
"Purple shells don't exist," he chuckled.
"Sure they do. Kiyota found a broken one on the way back. I told him it wasn't the same but he said it still meant 'everlasting love' or something and that the person who finds a pair gets to be with the person he or she loves the most –" I stopped. I had been blabbering. Oniisan looked mildly amused. A tell-tale blush spread to the roots of my hair. Muttering something about changing and doing homework, I ducked and hightailed it out of there.
He was still laughing.
~010101~
Near the end of the summer term we went to school together again. We didn't talk much on the way there but at the first crossing, while waiting for the pedestrian light to turn green, he took my hand. I looked up at him. He remained expressionlessly staring straight ahead. In those last twelve seconds it took for the light to change, I dared to lean against him. He intertwined his fingers around mine and squeezed.
We went like that all the way to school, where he paused a minute to wonder whether or not to ask if I wanted to watch morning training. I tugged him towards the gym before he could open his mouth.
Not one word passed between us – not when he was unlocking the heavy doors to the court; not when we stood in the stillness of those high, high ceilings and gleaming wood, complete with specks of dust floating in the morning sunlight; and not even when his warm-ups were the only sounds that echoed in the emptiness. Sometimes I felt that I had become invisible, that his world had once again become that of him and his court. Then he would pause after making yet another basket and, very surreptitiously, flick his eyes over to where I sat, as if to ascertain that I was still watching.
So it was that on that one last miraculous morning, I began to believe that Oniisan himself was pulling me into his secret world. I let myself believe that at last, I no longer had to be the one left out.
The magic ended with the first morning greetings and yawning entrances into the locker rooms. Oniisan wrapped up solo practise to sit with me. I passed him a towel. Heat emanated from his skin. He nodded his thanks, reached out. Fingers combed through my hair. He leaned closer as if to whisper something, but stopped at the last minute, his attention stolen by something he saw over my shoulder. The idyllic caress became a matter-of-fact pat on the head and a curt thanks. When the echo of the locker rooms had returned full-force, he had gone to Hikari.
~010101~
At a park right beside the sea and very near Ryonan, there are several public courts. Basketball enthusiasts would gather there on the weekends, sometimes to watch, and sometimes to join in on an impromptu match. The regulars of Kanagawa's most known high school basketball teams might show up, and oftentimes, might be persuaded to play a friendly game or two.
On Saturdays when he had nothing better to do, Oniisan frequented those courts. I used to tag along. Recently, I'd go to watch him without his knowledge, like some sick stalker. But as Inter-Highs caught up to younger fans, more and more spectators jammed the courts so that I blended in with the rest of them and was rendered perfectly invisible.
Except, apparently, to Hikari.
"You're here again," I sighed when she cropped up beside me.
"So are you."
"You're always around." It was almost a whine.
The arrogant sneer that had become a permanent fixture on her face once again reared its ugly head. "People like Shinichi have to be watched very carefully if one intends to keep them." She dragged her perfect pout up into a smirk. "I heard you perfectly that one time, Yulia. What was that again? 'Oniisan's mine'?"
"He is too," I replied, feeling more and more like a child.
She rolled her eyes. "I beg to differ. That's why I'm hell-bent on eradicating that tasteless little rumour floating around school. You can't believe how sticky tales of incest are when they've glued themselves to one's name."
I flinched at her choice of word. Personally, I had never called it 'incest'. The word left a bad taste in one's mouth, carrying with it all its implications of filth and sin when love – the very real root of it – was never dirty. But I couldn't even formulate a smart retort.
"You don't have to thank me. After all, what I'm doing is mutually beneficial. Just make sure you do your part and not waste my effort." She was going to make me look like a fool again, but I wasn't going to walk away anymore. Not then, not ever again.
"I hate you," I muttered. "I wish you'd die in the most painful, most horrible way and leave me alone. Leave us alone. Oniisan and I were fine until you entered the scene –"
"Shinichi was the first to use me," she interrupted, bitterness lacing her tone. "I'm just repaying the favour."
"Oniisan would never –"
"There's a lot you don't know, Imouto-chan, so I'm telling you this now: despite Shinichi not being all he's hyped up to be, I want him, I'm keeping him, and I've got a better chance at pulling that off than you do."
"Just curl up and die, Hikari."
She smiled a sweet smile and put a hand on my shoulder. "When that happens, I'll take you with me."
~010101~
The day before semi-finals and a week after my conversation with Hikari – a whole week of the icy shoulder from Oniisan just as I thought things were beginning to mend – I decided to take one last shot. He was packing his gym bag for the following day's game when I appeared at the doorway to his room and simply said,
"I love you." He froze. I went on, "It's not the innocent 'I love you' because I've never loved Oniisan like that. I love you the way a woman a loves a man, but not necessarily the way she does before they fuck. I love you means I'd do anything you want me to. I love you means I love you. Even though I went and kissed Kiyota and am an undeserving scumbag, in this world, I love you the most and I love you best."
It took him a while to remember what he was doing before my speech, and even longer to go back to doing it, though not once did he look my way. When he spoke at last it was to stiffly say, "Then I hope it also means you know my answer."
"You don't love me?"
An exasperated sigh. "You must have better things to do with your time. Quit hounding me. I have to prepare for semi-finals tomorrow."
"You want me to leave you alone."
"Yes."
"For good?"
"Yes." He was becoming irritated.
"Okay. But before I leave you alone for good I'd like to ask a question."
"Make it quick."
It was already at the tip of my tongue. "Before Hikari came into the picture who was more important to you: me or basketball?"
"What kind of question –"
Never once did he pause to look at me. The whole time, while we talked, he only looked at his gym bag, the following day's schedule, and the things that had yet to be packed.
"Never mind. I've bothered Oniisan enough. Good luck tomorrow."
~010101~
When I got to the beach, the floodlights were on but the Ryonan gym lights were out. The long stretch of sand had widened, the sea level receding in the night's low tide. I ran towards the water, black, blind, and noisy as it crashed upon itself over and over. Deeper and deeper I waded until the water wet the hem of my shorts.
Recalling one of those old folktales, I briefly wondered if the water spirit would turn me into a mermaid if I threw myself into the ocean. Surely they could need another citizen down there? I tried to peer into the water but saw nothing. I was on the verge of stirring my hands in the liquid darkness when the pocket of my shorts vibrated.
Kiyota.
"Yo!"
"Hey." I wiggled a leg, tangled seaweed around it, shook that off, and felt something cold and hyperactive slide against it. That changed my mind completely. If I were going to throw myself into the water, I was going to become fish food, not a fish lady.
"Where are you? It sounds kinda funny out there."
"I'm...ah, looking for purple shells."
"It's almost midnight Yulia-san."
"It's okay. The floodlights are still on, so no problem." Once I had gotten out of the water, I chose a spot of dry sand and sat down.
"Do you need help? I could –"
"I'm good. Besides, you have a game tomorrow."
"You sound kind of down."
"Nah. You're over-imagining things."
"Isn't Maki-san looking for you yet?"
Surprisingly, what used to be a stab of pain diffused into peace. "I think he's happy to have me out of his hair for once. Oniisan's busy preparing for semi-finals."
"Are you going to watch?"
"Maybe. Dunno."
"You should! I'll swing by for you before I go."
"I'll think about it then." A pause. "Kiyota, we should hang up. You need your rest."
"Are you concerned about me?"
I couldn't help smiling. "Savour it while it lasts." Then I cut us off. I spent the night on the beach, feeling the water dry off my legs, my damp shorts. It was cold, but not much. If I rubbed my arms real quick I'd get warm again.
I sat there till sunrise.
~010101~
