-------
From the brown-haired's sight; neon streetlights buzzed and several swift cars illuminated the entirety of Kanagawa's contours, or was it the other way around? He surprisingly cannot tell. Snowflakes are pale and the clouds are forming silhouettes unknown to his scholarly memories; it is almost midnight from the chill – shivering down – but it was actually six thirty on the dot, the same time that he was in here yesterday. Down in his seemingly last black caffeine, now warm from coldness, Kiminobu Kogure waited for Soichiro Jin, as of the same mind.
Stenciling any more snowflakes on his black furry coat, he decided to shelter his body on the train station. It's funny how unpredictable moments can turn into earth-shattering moments; man's life is supposed to be lived from his desires as regards to contemporaneous experiences, his awareness of its teleological implications. Never was Kogure a believer of this tenet, but how it makes wonder; right here, right now, he cannot decipher. Near the automatic doors of the Kanagawa train he was sitting and enjoying his company – himself and the coffee obviously – and it would get merrier if Jin fills his promise, which by the way he himself thought of. With a fast sip on the coffee getting colder by the second, he smiled, knowing too well and doing too much.
But before this night could all end in a futile situation of rhythmic idleness and social half-life, he has prepared himself how to overcome it; before anything else hide in their places Kogure decided to prepare because for one thing, it was worth deciding, and it was worth overcoming social possibilities. Oh well, he didn't come. Might as well go into some arcade, play some Silent Hill and savor solitude. Or pamper myself in the spa, then to a ramen house, burn all the books when I get home for academics was tiring me. What an excuse.
It's funny that Kogure thinks that way, the fear that has overwhelmed his psyche for better or for worse. The way through which men approach the fulfillment of such goals towards intimacy is an act of egoism. The conquest people are in as regards with love and everything else necessitates an understanding of frustrations eager to be fulfilled, as love isn't pure until it is tainted, until it is taken hopelessly and frustratingly.
Kogure grimaced. Maybe when Soichiro Jin came he could finally trigger an end to these profound thoughts. Six-thirty five. That short of a time?
A door opened ajar from Kogure's sight and there the boyish lad appeared like a phenomenon. Faded jeans and white shirt harbored Jin's body, his coat fumbled on his shoulders. He was cold but he didn't mind, his thoughts of coming late making him worried and warm at the same time. He sat beside Kogure. "Hey,"
Kogure's eyes widened from the voice. A smile quickly escaped from his face and tried not to blush. With a swift reflex both stood up, coffee spilling in Kogure's denims. "Oh!"
"Don't worry, I just spilled the coffee,"
"I'm sorry," Jin said, taking out a piece of cloth and tried to wipe the smeared clothing. Kogure felt red, shoving the lad gently. All Jin could do was to scratch his head. "It's okay," and both were gone after some minutes.
It's funny how Kogure, at the same time, anticipated the merry moment when he had prepared himself negativity. The park smelled moss and soil but fragrant in its natural sense, the whiff of snow he can even feel. Nature in the midst of nature the park is revelry, a festival of memories that has been the witness of all kinds of companionship. Both sat still by the bench and savored themselves of nothing but familiarity, closeness in its very meaning. Jin never was a believer of that first sight madness, and it was clear-cut so to speak; but looking at the lithe body of Kogure he knew too well of the madness in the stillness of his heart.
"Lovely sky isn't it?"
"Eh?" Kogure heard what the other say, but was too occupied on whether to break the ice or not.
"The stars; I think the gods have saved us this moment,"
Since when did the conversation included god? Or gods?
"I didn't see them before,"
"Oh,"
By then a shuriken of abstract red came into their view and it sparkled yellow and green afterwards, a gesture of Christmas appreciation. It bustled gently on their ears like gentle drums of a classical song, jazzing themselves on the threshold of revelry, moments and thoughts that never seemed to end. More hues came running down their sight, a mixture of the elemental hues of Christmas; waltzing Kogure as Jin smiles. Friend of the heart Hisashi Mitsui, wherever you are, I'm sure you're having a blast, like you always assured me.
"Merry Christmas Kogure,"
-------
Click on the key, turn the knob. Rush into the shower, take off that weariness. With such thoughts Mitsui walked down the snowed pavements, looking at those boulders beside the alley. With his black trousers and maroon shirt, he yet again remembered it right. The journey to innocence. And all he could do is to savor his isolation from the worldliness of the earth before him.
-------
Few days passed.
Pass the sakura festival, both settled on Jin's abode. Kogure wondered how the lad manages his life and his practical knowledge failed him of knowing. It's staggering nonetheless, or so the chocolate-eyed thought. "Mind you, I'ma cook this for us both,"
"You said so," Kogure smiled, taking out some items other than that fish already lying on the kitchen sink. "What're you doing with the fish anyway," the brown-eyed mumbled. "What catch eh?"
Jin smiled cooking what they bought, a contented little lad of love's idealism. They had eaten it afterwards even before they could notice time, too busy perhaps from staring at each other. Thanks to early Christmas vacations, unpredictability became Kogure's savor of life, Jin's as well. You're a good cook. Really? I'll take that as a compliment. You should.
Sunday morning it was then, Kogure slouching in Jin's bed, Soichiro just sitting on a chair and staring like the picture was art's reality and savoring the scenic sight before him.
Deep within his consciousness, Kogure was dreaming of Christmas and trains, snows and neon lights, meeting and waiting for someone to come on some rhythmic and cosmic kind of intimate profusion. Kogure was dreaming of the best Christmas vacation he didn't notice he was already having one.
Oh disarming soul. Sweet Soichiro. What we do for love.