03. what might have been
-x-
Love is a debt. When the bill comes, you pay in grief.
Who said that?
If that was the nature of love, what did that make cemeteries?
Takasugi paused at the turn of the stone path and glanced at the figure standing in front of a tombstone near the other end of the row. It was an annual encounter that had started before they knew each other as classmates, like two strangers entering a coffee shop and recognizing each other as the one they'd see on the bus every day. She was alone this year, and Takasugi realized why it'd struck him the other day to find out she had a brother - he'd only seen her with her father before and never with another person.
As if sensing his presence, Kagura tilted her purple umbrella and looked in his direction. Their eyes met briefly, until he noticed the fresh chrysanthemums sitting on top of Shoyo-sensei's grave. Last year, it had been peonies, and the year before, lilies. His stomach churned, and he stepped up to the tombstone, torn between the comfort of knowing there was someone who still remembered Shoyo-sensei and the unease of not knowing who that person was.
The flowers drooped in the summer heat, and a sparrow landed next to the censer, its beak hanging open as if in protest of the heat emanating from the pavement. It flew away at the sound of approaching footsteps, and Takasugi looked up in response. Kagura stopped before him and smiled.
"Y'know," she said. "It's kinda funny how we've never had the chance to talk."
"You always come here with your father."
Kagura let out a sheepish laugh. "Yeah," she said and tossed a glance at the grave she'd been visiting. "Papi's busy with school stuff this year, so he couldn't make it." Her voice lowered. "He's always like that. Mami's probably used to it." She fixed her gaze on the headstone in front of them and asked, "And you? Is this your family?"
Taking in the name carved into the marble, Takasugi replied, "Yeah." Everyone had their own definition of family and home, and if Kagura wondered about the last name, she didn't say anything.
"He passed away on the same day as Mami," Kagura observed, and Takasugi blinked. "I guess that makes sense. I just didn't think - " She paused. "Weird, how the world works sometimes."
"How did your mother die?" Takasugi asked, frowning. Thousands of people died each day, and coincidences were sometimes just that - coincidences, but he had nothing else to follow, to lead him to the real murderer. Grasping at straws was better than walking away.
A sad smile appeared on Kagura's face. "She was sick," she said simply.
The air stood still, hot and humid, while the cicadas droned. And sometimes, coincidences are just that - coincidences. The world was a small place. "Your brother never comes," Takasugi said.
"Oh, him." Kagura flashed a pained smile. "I never know what he's thinking. He skipped Mami's funeral. He disappears whenever we visit Mami. Papi thinks he's just being rebellious, but..." She shifted her umbrella, and a distant look settled over her face. "Papi also didn't see Nii-chan's expression when Mami died. I thought he was crying when the nurses pried Mami's hand out of his and pulled him away, but there was nothing on his face. It was completely blank. Sometimes I wonder if he's missing something in his brain." She looked at Takasugi. "Hey, this is gonna sound strange, especially since I don't know what's going on between you and Nii-chan, but if you see him today" - her voice cracked - "can you tell him to come home?"
Takasugi furrowed his brows. "What makes you think I'll see him today?"
Kagura looked away. "Or anyone, really. If anyone sees him."
That's unlikely, Takasugi wanted to say, but his cellphone rang before he could open his mouth. Scowling, he dug the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open to drop the call. He really needed to figure out how to put it on silent one of these days.
"Is that Zura?" Kagura asked, mildly amused.
Takasugi gave her an odd look and stared at the phone in his hand.
Kagura grinned. "He was going on and on about how you always ignore his calls the other day," she explained. "You should answer his call. I think he's worried about you." She clapped him on his shoulder. "Don't be a stranger when you come back to class, okay? I'm really glad I talked to you today. Too bad we missed Ginpachi-sensei."
Takasugi's gaze fell onto the chrysanthemums. "He was here?"
"Yeah. He was already leaving when I arrived, though, so we didn't really chat." Kagura swept her gaze across the cemetery. "Everyone's lost someone, huh?" She smiled, as if trying to reassure the two of them. "Don't forget to call Zura," she shouted as she headed toward the gate. "And I'll see you at school!"
Takasugi could feel a corner of his mouth tugging upward into a bittersweet smile, but it faded away when he glanced at the yellow chrysanthemums. It bothered him to think that the flowers each year were from Sakata Ginpachi, and it bothered him even more to think that he was not okay with it. Suppressing a sigh, he brought up the contact list on his phone, scrolled down to "Zura," and pushed the call button.
-x-
"Takasugi, you finally called me back! Why were you ignoring my calls? Do you know how worried I was? Did you get my voice messages? I also sent you text messages. Did you get those? I even stopped by your apartment after school, but you weren't there. Where have you been? You're on suspension. You didn't go out and cause more trouble, did you? Because - "
"Zura," Takasugi interrupted.
"It's not Zura, it's Katsura. Do you know how hard Ginpachi-sensei is working to - "
"Why did you call me?"
"What?"
"Why did you call me?" Takasugi repeated.
"I explained - oh no, my messages got lost after all. You really can't trust technology these days - "
"I got them," Takasugi snapped. "I just didn't look at them."
"You got them," Katsura echoed in disbelief. "Well why didn't you look at them? If you had - "
"Just tell me why you called me."
There was a pause, then Katsura said in a quiet voice, "I wanted to ask you if you've already made plans for Obon."
Takasugi tightened his grip on his phone and looked at the sky, cloudless but hazy.
"I know you always say no," Katsura continued. "But if you don't have plans yet, I really wish you would come to the festival with us this year. I even asked our classmates to join us, so it won't just be me and Elizabeth this time. Matako-dono said she'll come if you come and - "
"I'll pass," Takasugi said.
"Again?" Katsura said after a beat. When Takasugi didn't respond, he asked, "May I ask why?"
Takasugi wiped the sweat from his nose with the back of his wrist and replied, "Because I don't feel like it."
The silence on the other end dragged, and Katsura's voice was crestfallen when he spoke again. "Don't feel like going to Obon or don't feel like coming with us?"
Takasugi remained silent as he thought back to the loud festival and the floating lanterns. The last time they went to Obon together was four years ago, right after Shoyo-sensei's death. It used to be a tradition, when they were still at the orphanage and after they were adopted, to go to the festival together, to stuff their faces with greasy food, and to send paper lanterns down the river for their parents. But then one day, he had an extra lantern to light, and he couldn't do it anymore.
"Somehow I feel like we're drifting farther and farther apart," Katsura was saying. "I was so happy when I found out we were going to the same high school, and even happier when we ended up in the same class, but it seems like we're understanding each other less and less even though we see each other more often than before. I feel like we're living in worlds that look the same but are very different. How did this happen?"
Gritting his teeth, Takasugi lowered his hand and snapped the phone shut.
Our bubbles met midair.
His left arm ached, and he inhaled a deep breath, slowly unclenching his fist.
But one's floating upward while the other isn't. One's attracting more bubbles and growing bigger, and the other isn't.
Distance is subjective.
"That's all."
-x-
The wind was picking up when he left the cemetery, and he could see thick clouds gathering in the western sky, in the dark red sunset. The trees rustled above him as he cut through the park on his way home, but he paused when he caught sight of a familiar silhouette sitting on top of the playground slide and holding an umbrella.
Kamui noticed him at the same time and waved, smiling. "What are you doing here?" he asked, chewing on a popsicle stick. He was without his coat, the light-colored T-shirt making him seem younger than he actually was.
"That's my question," Takasugi said, walking up to the slide. "Your sister was looking for you."
Even in the twilight, the hesitation in Kamui's smile, however slight, was discernible. "Where did you see her?"
"Your sister wants you to go home," Takasugi said dryly. "I've relayed her message. See you later." He raised his arm and turned.
"Hey wait," Kamui called out, and Takasugi halted his footsteps. "Do you want to get dinner?" Kamui asked as he hopped off the slide. "I'm hungry."
-x-
Notes: The first sentence is a quote from Children of God by Mary Doria Russell.