Shuushi

by NatsumeTsukumo

 

 

Author's Punctuation kept.

Premise Tags: Nature, Nonlinear,

Photography, Reunions,

Supernatural, University.

Content Warnings: Age Gap,

Death of Loved Ones.

 

 

🍁

 

BGM for reading: 

https://youtu.be/7DlPbN7_-Os

https://youtu.be/KOuepo6DP4k

https://youtu.be/gzfy1DFaxb8

秋思 [しゅうし] shuushi n. [Japanese]

A feeling of deep sadness or loneliness associated with the autumn season; autumnal melancholy.

 

 

🍁

 

 

   *     *     *     *     *

 

The doors of the neon subway train opened with a shhh as passengers tumbled out like apples from a wheelbarrow, scattering in all directions. Chiaki alighted from his seat. He hoisted his stuffed suitcase against his chest, gripping the newest map of Kyoto in his free hand. His wristwatch read five-fifteen in the morning. Fellow early risers flocked to open benches across the platform, their long coats flapping like an owl’s wings.

Chiaki passed them by with his head buried in the map, glancing up only to make sure he wouldn’t bump into anyone. His boots clacked upon the staircase that led to the nearest exit outside.

Sweet dawn was just on the brink. Pale, blue light showered the last few steps of Chiaki's ascent from the tunneled stairway. The suitcase weighed him down, but he felt lighter than a cloud. He reached the top and his heels lifted into a sprint, kicking up dead leaves.

The city of flowers and willows, of golden pavilions, and pretend time travel.

Without a wink of sleep, he’d traveled by train across many cities in half a night, just to be here.

A swift zephyr made him shiver and sent bright leaves spiraling in eddies around the flagstone streets. This was home. His city, and also the very first time he’d set foot in it.

Chiaki pulled the tweed cap tighter on his head, smoothed out the frizzy black hair beneath, and strode towards the campus of his dreams.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

The secret forecast of Miura Gardens was a downpour of leaves.

Toshi strolled along a wooden bridge with his back to the gloaming. The bridge connected the heart of the garden to a lone islet above a pond, housing one oriental gazebo and a humble bench. It was his favorite place to sit and observe the visitors or lose himself in a novel. A slice of paradise.

Something golden caught his eye as it glittered on the water's surface. Toshi crouched down to pluck a child's pinwheel that drifted aloft the yellow lotuses and red and orange-speckled carp crowding his fingers for treats. He sighed, knowing his family would have to gather the spent blooms before they froze into the ice when winter came.

Pinwheel in his grasp, he heard the bridge creak behind him and the double-click of a shutter.

Toshi turned his head and was met with a blinding white flash. He yelped and fell backward into the pond.

"Oh my gosh!" A young man’s voice gasped and he ran toward the edge of the bridge, "Are you alright?" He bent forward and lifted Toshi by his underarms.

Toshi clung to the smaller man who miraculously had the strength to fish him out. He flopped onto his back, every fiber of his hanten¹a short winter coat and an item of traditional Japanese clothing soaked through. A scarlet maple leaf clung to his face and trickled water into his eyes. The pinwheel was still in his fist.

Round glasses fogging up from hot breath, the stranger plucked the leaf by its stem and cast it away. In that instant, he was struck by Toshi’s midnight eyes glaring straight through him. The stranger stared for a moment too long and glanced away, shame and fascination ruddying his cheeks.

Toshi’s gaze flicked over the man: light, feathery hair, a checkered sweater vest, a medium-sized camera, and a student lanyard swaying from his thin neck.

"Well, daigakusei-san²Mr. College Student,” said Toshi with a voice like apple cider vinegar, "did you get a clear shot, at least?"

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

"Inori-kun, are you sure you haven’t taken classes before?" The old professor asked as he studied Chiaki’s portfolio.

"Nothing like that. I'm just a hobbyist."

"Hmm," The professor's eyebrows creased. "It's just, your eye for finding secluded places… your photos evoke this emptiness I have only seen in one other student. Even the size and model of your cameras match—”

“Which student?” Chiaki’s ears perked.

"Huh? Oh, don't mind me, I'm just an old man reminiscing." The professor laughed. His mind disappeared into the clouds again as he traced the edges of a photograph.

“This student of yours… went here a long time ago, didn't he?” Chiaki cast his lure.

“Did I make you curious? That's right. He was only here for a year but is still one of our brightest pupils to date. You could feel the love he had for the art, but he lacked the confidence of someone with his skill level. Still, I didn’t think he’d withdraw from all of his courses. I tried to convince him to stay, but he seemed to want nothing more to do with the program."

“...Why’d he stop?" Chiaki's voice softened to a whisper.

The professor looked gravely into his eyes, "Rumor has it—heartbreak."

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

The student dipped his head low in apology, “I'm so sorry for startling you, Mr.—“

“—Toshi Miura,” Toshi finished for him, peeling the wet hanten off his body with mild disgust.

“Ah, yes. It was my bad, Miura-san. Huh? ‘Miura’ like the ‘Miura Gardens’?”

“Naturally. I'm the owners’ grandson.”

The bespectacled student jumped back in horror, chattering to himself fearfully, “I drenched the future groundskeeper. What should I do? They’re gonna ban me for life—“

“Sigh. Gakusei-san, I’m not going to ban you.”

Kaede paused, mid-panic. His eyes lit up, “Really?”

“Yes,” Toshi rolled his eyes and wrung the pond water out of his high ponytail.

Kaede breathed a sigh of relief and his shoulders fell. He extended his hand amateurishly to Toshi, “I’m Kaede Saibara. I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances." He laughed and winced.

Toshi merely stared at the hand without batting an eyelash, causing nervous beads of sweat to form on Kaede’s temples. As the student was about to withdraw his hand, the groundskeeper shook just the fingertips, “Likewise. Now, which university do you attend, Saibara-san?”

“That would be Kyoto’s School of Photography and the Arts," Kaede said and struck a pose. He slid his lenses higher upon the bridge of his nose with a humorous gleam in his eyes, “Would you like to see my work?”

Toshi shrugged, "If you want. I know next to nothing about photography though."

Kaede slipped the Taron JL eagerly off his neck and held it up for Toshi, who began to reach for it. Both of them failed to notice a young boy with bronze hair and feline eyes creeping up behind them, just to swipe the camera from Kaede’s bare hands.

Kaede’s mouth formed a perfect “O”.

"Hey! Give that back!" He soon recovered and scrambled after the boy, who snickered louder now that he’d been sighted.

"Why? Is it expensive?" the boy asked innocently as he zigzagged through maples and bamboo stalks to lead his pursuer astray.

"Y-yes!" Kaede huffed.

"Then it’s your loss!"

Toshi stood like a bystander and watched the two of them run loops around the pond, amused.

"Miura-san, huff, please do something... he's, gasp, going to drop it..." Kaede could hardly catch his breath and looked back at Toshi pleadingly. The boy was now aping up one of the cedar trees and jamming his fingers into various buttons on the camera.

Toshi glided over to the cedar and gazed up calmly at the boy, " Rinta, you little oni ³An oni (鬼おに) is a kind of yōkai, demon, orc, ogre, or troll in Japanese folklore.. Give this nice onii-san⁴big brother (not necessarily blood-related) his precious camera back."

"Or what?" Rinta held the camera up to his eye and peered at them through the viewfinder.

"Or... I'll make sure the only snacks you get from grammy this fall are all burnt to a crisp," Toshi smiled but his eyes were as cold as the pond floor.

Rinta nearly dropped the camera.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

Bicycle wheels wobbled upon the cragged path before skidding to a halt. As his boots touched the ground, Chiaki’s lungs drew in the scent of dry earth and a musky sweetness that perfumed the air. He found a nearby tree to park his bicycle and looped the cable lock through a thick tree root.

His legs shook as he climbed the old steps, more from nerves than strain. They came to a leaden stop at the foot of the sanmon gate. Stone lanterns marked the entrance to an enshrined pair of lion dogs, guarding a small, solemn gate of wood and steel, ancient thatched roof, and fuzzy mosses rambling along the exterior.

"Welcome home," the entrance whispered to him.

"Don't get your hopes up," Chiaki muttered to himself. It felt like little red foxes were chasing their tails in his ribcage. He took a deep breath, held it, and released before slipping through the other side.

What lay ahead was a magnificent garden, lighting the natural world on fire with color.

To the left and right were raised mounds of intricately carved sand, erected to purify the visitors. The surrounding foliage was awash in splashes of olive, crimson, and amber. Above, crisp, sunset leaves broke from the boughs and scattered lazily onto the pond’s surface, layering like brocade. Below, carp that had yet to succumb to the call of hibernation nibbled upon their edges.

A poignant ache hit Chiaki in waves that sent him crashing to his knees. He squeezed his eyes tightly as vivid memories pulsed through him.

The rustle of the boughs. Children’s laughter. The plop of a carp.

It almost felt like time had rewound. Perhaps, if he kept his eyes closed, it would stay that way.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

Toshi was scrubbing away the bird droppings from a stone lantern when the hairs on his neck prickled. Something had stirred behind a bushy cedar. Pausing, he honed in on the presence.

His lips curled into a smirk, "Why do you keep following me, gakusei-san?"

The presence stiffened.

"Come on out," he beckoned. "I know every nook and cranny in this garden."

A person slunk away from the protection of the trunk.

"Good morning, Miura-san," Kaede waved sheepishly, his other hand clasped behind his back.

"Morning," Toshi hummed and took a few steps toward him.

Kaede took a step back.

“Hmm?” Toshi tried peeking around him, “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“Up there!” Toshi pointed dramatically at the sky and the student lifted his chin on cue.

The other took the chance to snatch the camera from him unaware and ran off.

"Hey, immature!" Kaede started after him. “You’re just as bad as that Hinode kid!”

"No, I’m worse!" Toshi laughed and the wind at his back propelled him like a sailboat. He reached the family tea house and stormed through the fusuma⁵traditional sliding door made of paper, but his paper silhouette gave him away.

Kaede approached slowly, "Miura-san, pant, please don't look." He sounded short of breath.

"You're just making me more curious. Am I going to find some naughty photos?"

"N-nothing like that! Just... " His voice tottered and trailed off. "I'm not ready to show you them yet…"

Toshi sighed in defeat. "Fine, come in." After a pause, the fusuma slid open.

Kaede inched inside, suspicion creeping up his spine. He looked puzzledly around the dusty, empty tatami room.

A shadow from behind popped out of a floorboard, "Boo!"

"Gyaah!" Kaede shrieked and tackled the shadow to the ground. The shadow’s back hit the tatami hard, eliciting a groan.

When Kaede came to, he felt Toshi’s body pinned beneath him. Hips pressed together dangerously and noses within bumping distance, the student flushed bright cherry. The only sounds in the tea house were the gulp in his throat and his racing pulse.

"..."

"..."

"Are you going to get off me?" Toshi glowered, a rose hue tinting the tips of his ears.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

A green blur darted in his peripherals. Chiaki adjusted the settings, peered into the viewfinder, and aimed his camera for a tiny frog squatting atop a stone lantern, its slick body iridescent in the sun—

"—Excellent shot," came a golden whisper behind his ear.

Chiaki’s shoulders jumped and his finger slipped on the button. The shutter ka-chicked and the frog dove for the retreat of the pond, leaving a small splash in its wake.

Chiaki inched his head around slowly, facial expression spooked. He locked eyes with the stranger.

A fox skipped.

Diffident eyes creased behind round glasses and tawny hair swept into a low ponytail, the middle-aged man scratched the back of his neck, his striped hanten fluttering, “Oops, I scared it away, didn’t I? My apologies."

Chiaki's lips trembled but no words came.

“A lot of frogs are hiding in the leaves during this season so you were lucky to find even one. I can help you look for more if you’d like?”

"No, I don't really care about the frogs…" Chiaki said breathlessly.

“I’m relieved to hear. How are you enjoying the Miura gardens? I noticed you wandering in a daze earlier. It’s common to do on your first visit.” he chuckled.

“It’s certainly not my first visit,” Chiaki said on impulse and scrambled to correct himself, “I mean, I used to come here as a kid.” He tugged at the frayed edges of his scarf.

The man focused on the camera slung around Chiaki's neck, "Wow, that looks like a Taron JL. I used to have one of those when I was a student. Guess they’d be considered vintage now.”

"Used to?"

"Oh...” He glanced sideways, “It’s probably stored in a box somewhere. I retired from photography years ago," he gave another strained smile.

“Oh,” Chiaki uttered. Hopes dashed.

The man took a gander at his wristwatch, “Well, looks like I'll need to start the tour soon. But If you’re interested in photography, we have an open gallery next month. Please come if you have the time," The man offered a pamphlet hidden in his sleeve. 

Chiaki hesitated but took the pamphlet, perusing it curiously.

 "...The theme of the exhibit is 'autumnal melancholy'," he read the description aloud, "A feeling of inexplicable loneliness that people seem to get around the fall season."

"Yes, a rather fitting theme. Reminds me of seasonal affective disorder."

"Have you felt it before? 'autumnal melancholy'," Chiaki asked. He quickly realized how personal the question was and shrunk a bit with shame.

"Every year,” the man answered without hesitation, then blinked, surprised at himself.

“I… I need to go,” Chiaki found himself unable to bear it anymore. His foot turned to leave, “See you around.”

“Ah, wait!” The voice called again.

Chiaki froze in his tracks.

“...If you come by around this time tomorrow, I’ll show you some lighting tricks from the good old days.”

Chiaki turned and smiled like the sun, “It’s a date.”

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

“Grammy, why do the leaves turn red?” young Toshi asked, holding an old woman’s hand tightly as they ambled along a path carpeted in shimmering ginkgos and pagodas.

The grandmother smiled down at him, "So that they will be noticed.”

"Noticed?"

“It’s the same for people, too.”

“Who do they want to be noticed by?”

“Why, their beloved.”

Toshi’s forehead scrunched up as the wheels of his young mind spun around the meaning of what she'd told him. The word "beloved" was an enigma, and yet it stuck with him for the longest time.

“Ah, there he goes again,” the grandmother dropped Toshi’s hand and scowled, arms akimbo at an old man with a white mustache who was smoking a pipe under the eaves of the house. “Dear, put that away! You’re stinking up the garden!”

The grandfather chuckled and closed his eyes serenely as he took another long drag.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

The lone groundskeeper was sweeping the sidewalk beside the garden entrance when Chiaki manifested like an apparition.

“—Good morning, Saibara-san. ”

Kaede jerked. On turning to see who it was, his face flushed with delight, "G-good morning, Inori-kun."

"Just ‘Chiaki’ is fine. It's already been a few weeks."

"Only a few weeks," Kaede corrected. "I know you young people are fond of casualness but it takes time to get to know each other⁶In Japanese culture, people don't call each other by their first name unless they are family, close lovers or friends..” 

Chiaki watched him return to sweeping the pavement with a strange intensity in his gaze.

"Hey, will you take my photo for a project?”

Kaede stopped to process the words before lowering his head, "I haven't used a camera in over a decade. And I don’t think someone who gave up photography would be the best candidate.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re the only one I want for the job.”

“I see,” Kaede sweated. "Then where shall I take it...?”

"Over here〜” Chiaki hummed and pushed Kaede’s back gently to stand below the grand maple tree. Amusement lit up the groundskeeper's eyes, but when Chiaki handed him the camera, his gaze darkened.

“No pressure,” Chiaki patted him reassuringly, “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

The muscle memory kicked in and Kaede felt himself bending one knee into position. He chased Chiaki’s movements through the viewfinder as the student teetered on the wooden bridge and stood with his back facing the morning sun. Then he crouched down and peered into the koi pond, posed with a hand tucking a dark loose strand behind his ear. He tilted his head and slowly, intently, looked into the lens.

Kaede sucked in a breath. His grip on the camera slackened and a carp leaped out of the water. The camera flashed.

“Well?” Chiaki grinned breezily, “How did your first photo in over a decade come out?” When there was no response, his smile slowly came away and a twinge of unease took over.

“Inori-kun," There was a shift in Kaede's tone and he headed directly for the bridge like someone possessed, "This may be out of the blue, but I can't shake this feeling that—“ all of a sudden he stopped. His eyes softened in concern, "Are you alright?"

"What?" Chiaki said and promptly touched his cheeks. His fingertips wetted with tears. He hadn't even noticed them, and now that he had they began to leak out of him faster.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

The eaves of the Miura household shielded two young men as steel wool clouds flooded the garden with afternoon rain, distorting the last of the sun’s rays.

“It doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon,” Kaede pointed out.

Toshi glanced up from his book, “Mn.”

“I forgot my umbrella today. You wouldn’t happen to have one I could borrow?” He seemed embarrassed to ask.

“I’ll check the front entrance,” Toshi shut the book and handed it to Kaede, then left through the front door. Sure enough, two umbrellas were sticking out of a basket by the genkan⁷front entrance where guests put their shoes.

Toshi relocated them to the hall closet and waited thirty seconds. “Strange, I can’t seem to find any today,” He said loud enough to hear over the rain.

“Oh, well. It’s not like I need to leave right this second,” Kaede flipped through the book he’d been given.

“You’re welcome to wait inside."

Kaede’s eyes brightened. He followed into the house, “Pardon the intrusion.”

A kettle rattled on the stove. Pouring steaming hojicha⁸ roasted green tea popular in the fall into a mug, Toshi slid it across the counter to the student, “To warm you up."

"Thanks," Kaede accepted graciously and brought the mug to his lips, the roasted scent wafting pleasantly against his face. He sipped, observing Toshi opening a different cupboard to pull out a bottle of hiyaoroshi ⁹Hiyaoroshi is the signature style of saké released in the autumn: during the spring, the fresh saké is first pasteurized and then stored in the tanks to avoid spoilage during the hot summers.. The clear liquid sloshed into an ochoko cup ¹⁰A small ceramic cup for drinking sake and Toshi reclined against the counter and drank with relish.

“You’re not going to pour me some of that too?”

“Where is my hospitality? I had assumed you didn’t drink."

"You know, you should be assuming the opposite, college sophomore and all." Kaede pointed to himself, somewhat miffed. "I actually drink quite often."

"I wouldn't have guessed," Toshi faked surprise and poured a second cup, then placed it in Kaede's expectant hands.

They clinked ceramics, "Kanpai!¹¹Cheers"

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

"Do you need to sit down?” The groundskeeper fretted and went to touch the young man's shoulder.

Chiaki sniffed and wiped his eyes, shaking his head. He felt like a child, face burning up as hot tears continued to fall from an endless well inside him.

“Sorry—” he choked out and ran ahead of him past the bridge.

Alone in his garden once more, Kaede stared at his palm that had reached out for the student without hesitation.

The palm squeezed into a fist. Emptiness.

As he turned to glumly return to his work, he received a hard slap on the back that made him yelp.

"Yo, Saibara!" came the assailant's booming voice.

Kaede doubled over and held his waist. He frowned at the smirking young officer with broad shoulders and spiked bronze hair.

The officer waved ingratiatingly.

"Rinta-kun, I've told you before to be gentler with me." Kaede adjusted his glasses.

"Not Rinta-kun. Officer Hinode. and add a 'sir' at the end."

"Well, treat your elders a little more carefully, sir."

"Jeez, you sound like my old man. You're only, what? Forty-something? With people living longer every year, I'd say you're plenty young."

"Young at heart, maybe," Kaede muttered, rubbing a sore spot. His vision cleared and he gawked at the camera still dangling from his neck.

"Hm? What's up?" Rinta cocked his head as he followed the older man's gaze.

Without answering, Kaede booted up the camera gallery and selected the most recent photo. The shot contained a carp with its tail flaring proudly in the sunlight beside a wooden bridge.

"...I think I saw a ghost."

"Hah?"

"Do you believe in ghosts?” Kaede pressed on.

"You tryin’ to scare me? I’m too big for that now. Anyways, I can't seem to find the cat. She's been missing for a couple of days. Seen her?"

"Maybe the cat is a ghost, too," Kaede said, eyes never straying from the screen.

The young cop facepalmed, “Whatever you say, old man. I’m off to catch traffic violators.”

 

 

 *     *     *     *     *

 

 

An empty bottle of hiyaoroshi and two ochoko cups littered the tatami room where a couple of young men listened to the patter of rain from beyond the house. Kaede slumped tipsily against the wall and Toshi lay sprawled out on the tatami beside him, lids heavy as he gazed at the ceiling.

"Miura-san, tell me your secrets."

"Like what?"

"Like why did your grandparents raise you? What did you want to be when you were a kid? Who was your first ki—"

Toshi pressed a finger against Kaede's mouth to stop him, "Pipe down. You go first."

"Okay… this is my first time getting drunk," he admitted with stone seriousness.

Toshi burst out laughing beneath him, "Obviously!"

"Y-you're next." Kaede pouted and his cheeks glowed with heat.

"Come closer and I'll tell you."

The student tensed and slowly, bashfully leaned his head down to listen. His soft hair brushed Toshi’s face, tickling his cheek. Toshi brought his lips close to Kaede’s ear and whispered hotly, "…There was an umbrella."

Then he placed something behind the student’s ear.

A child’s pinwheel.

Kaede’s heart thumped, "What…?"

"Do you believe in reincarnation?" Toshi asked as he yawned and stretched his limbs like a cat.

"I believe in science," Kaede sent the colorful wheel spinning with his finger, his honeyed gaze fixed on the other man’s lips.

“You’re not even a bit superstitious? Bo—ring.” Those lips mouthed the words playfully.

“Oi!” Kaede nudged Toshi with his foot. He frowned and lapsed into thought. “…Hey, do you think… after I graduate… I could help you run the garden?"

There was no response, only the faintest snore coming from below him.

“Miura-san,” Kaede poked his cheek, but Toshi was fast asleep on the floor. Quiet as a mouse, he removed his jacket and draped it over Toshi, then curled up beside him, close enough that he could watch the man’s long lashes flutter and his lips tremble as he began to dream.

The rhythm of the rain and Toshi’s breathing played like a lullaby.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

Chiaki squinted through the drizzle for signs of movement. Slices of gunmetal sky reflected in the puddles on his way to the heart of the garden, a red umbrella held high above his head. His boots sunk heavily into the earth with each step. Only the rustling of the trees and the murmur of rain filled the garden that was devoid of visitors.

In the silence, he heard what sounded like a small yowl.

Chiaki pricked his ears.

"-ow.”

“!”

Without thinking, he went chasing down the source of the cry. It grew louder the closer he came to the grand maple.

“-eoww.”

Trapped under a damp heap of leaves was a little black cat curled into a ball. Chiaki unburied the poor thing from the pile and it thanked him with a rub against his leg and an affectionate 'meow'. He bent down to pet it, but all of a sudden it scampered off.

"Hey!"

Somehow, he felt compelled to follow.

It led him through the maze of Miura Gardens to a glade in a bamboo forest. The wind whistled past him and carried a trace scent of incense. As soon as Chiaki caught a glimpse of the stone fence, he froze. A dull pain had quietly begun to drum in his skull.

 The cat slunk through the gaps with its tail flicking like a signal.

Taking a deep breath, Chiaki entered the private cemetery of the Miuras.

The cat weaved between tombstones till it found a pair of legs at the edge of the gravesite. Kaede stood defenseless in the rain with his back to the entrance, eyes closed and hands steepled in prayer. Three vases of star anise, three incense sticks, and three memorials stood solemnly before him.

The longer Chiaki looked at the engravings on the tombstones, the stronger his head throbbed, till he felt like it was about to split. He tore his eyes away and slowly came forward to bring the other man under his umbrella, mirroring him in prayer. Soon, smoke from the incense and Chiaki's headache dissipated in the rain.

"Thank you," Kaede said after he finished paying respects.

"It seems like you're always forgetting your umbrella," Chiaki teased. He felt Kaede stiffen, and said more gently, "Can I ask you something personal?"

"...If you'd like."

"Have you ever married?"

Kaede smiled to himself, "I’m married to the gardens."

A sweet ache thrummed in Chiaki's chest. The black cat returned to bat his shoelaces and Chiaki petted its head, "Do you come here often?”

“Yes, everyday to tend to the graves.”

Chiaki fell silent.

“I’ve kept your camera in a safe place. Do you need it back now?”

“No, not exactly…” Chiaki sensed an odd mood in the air. “I wonder if you happened to peek at my gallery?”

Kaede chuckled under his breath, "A little. I hope you don’t mind.”

"You know I wouldn't.”

"No," Kaede said, "I don't suppose ghosts like you would mind much at all."

That made Chiaki snort, "How superstitious. When did you start believing in ghosts?"

"When you started haunting me.”

Chiaki tensed.

Kaede continued facing the headstones, “What are you? A lost spirit? Or a figment of my imagination?”

Bursts of rain crackled like salvoes against the umbrella. The young man gulped and stroked Kaede’s hanten with shaking fingers, “I’m real.”

“Why,” Kaede said to the middle tombstone, “Why is it so hard to move on, Toshi?”

Chiaki hugged the older man’s waist from behind and his lips trembled, “Kaede, please look at me!”

Kaede went rigid and turned around slowly, looking down at Chiaki with a tender, pained expression, “I thought the autumn melancholy would kill me, but over twenty years later, I’m still here.”

His hand reached out to stroke the side of Chiaki’s face, who closed his eyes and shuddered.

Kaede tucked something behind his ear, and Chiaki knew what it was instantly. The pinwheel whistled as it spun with the breeze.

“I love you,” the words tumbled out of Chiaki all at once. The umbrella clattered as it hit the ground and he buried his head into the older man’s chest, “I didn’t mean to keep hiding it from you.”

Kaede wrapped his arms tightly around him and squeezed his eyes shut as jewel-like tears sprung forth, “I know, Inori-kun. You're more real to me than anything.”

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

Under the gazebo, Toshi and Kaede sat closely on the bench and listened to the nocturnes of frogs and insects. The last of the fireflies illuminated the islet above the still pond, a starry sky rotating around them.

Kaede marveled at the halo of light beaming down on their faces, "The moon always gives me a peaceful feeling."

"It does," Toshi's eyes reflected the light and his voice softened. "You know, I’ve never shown anyone the garden at night… You're the first."

"Does that make me special?" Kaede asked half-jokingly, expecting to hear a biting quip from Toshi.

"..."

Silence spread between them like a blanket. Kaede adjusted his glasses.

"...Sometimes I think about that night—the night we got drunk."

"What's there to think about?" Toshi played with the hem of his hanten, "Both of us just fell asleep in the end."

"I still have the pinwheel you gave me.”

The silence blanketed tighter around them and a cold breeze ruffled their bangs, carrying unspoken thoughts. Kaede dared to inch his pinky finger along the bench. It brushed Toshi’s— and withdrew.

Then Toshi looped their fingers together. 

The smallest touch was enough to electrify Kaede, and gradually, the rest of their fingers found each other too. November at night had suddenly become so warm.

Kaede turned to face Toshi, "Miura-san, what do you think of me?" His eyes searched Toshi’s in desperation. Toshi's gaze wavered and fell to his lap. He opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and bit his bottom lip.

“It’s so frustrating,” he said and pushed Kaede’s glasses to the crown of his head before pulling him into a delicate kiss.

Kaede shuddered in surprise, closing his eyes and falling deeper under the spell. Their bodies burnt the hues of the maple leaves showering the islet like shooting stars.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

An icy wind silvered the foliage in latter stages of decay.

"Brr," Kaede shivered violently. "My hands are freezing." He stuffed them into his pockets.

"It’s your lucky day. I happened to bring my handwarmers with me,” Toshi said and revealed two little packets.

“Thanks,” Kaede reached for the warmers, but Toshi suddenly shoved his own hands along with the warmers into the student’s jacket. The inside of the pockets heated up immediately. They made eye contact and blushed—

"Hey lovebirds, watch this!" Rinta shouted and balanced a ball perfectly on his raised knee.

Kaede gawked in awe but Toshi only pursed his lips, "Impressive. Is that all?"

The boy flashed a toothy grin and mocked, "Is that all?” He began kicking and bouncing the ball up and down, and when the sparkles in Kaede’s eyes multiplied, Rinta bounced it to the other side. He passed the ball between his knees faster and faster until Kaede's eyes were spinning.

Toshi crossed his arms and nodded, "What about trying a spin?"

The boy smirked and launched the ball with his knee before spinning around, but instead, the ball hit the sidewalk and began to roll out of the driveway.

Rinta glared at a smug Toshi, "I'm blaming you for this," then chased after the ball. It gained momentum by the second as it rolled down the sloped street, and Rinta jogged to keep up.

"...Should we help him?" Kaede asked.

Toshi sighed, “Can’t be helped." He strode towards Rinta and Kaede followed closely behind. The boy had managed to halt the ball with his heel at the bottom of the slope.

As the two men stood a few yards away, Rinta waved the ball triumphantly in the air, "Got it!"

Toshi tutted affectionately and gestured for the boy to return. Kaede cocked his head and squinted his eyes. His eyebrows suddenly shot up.

"Rinta, look out!” he shrieked.

The roar of an engine echoed from a perpendicular alley as Rinta turned his head. The ball plummeted from his hands. A vehicle was coming straight for him. 

Seconds from impact, Toshi lunged forward and shoved the boy aside. He felt his body soaring and the world exploded like a blast of crimson maples.

 

 

  *     *     *     *     *

 

 

Sunlight winked through the gaps in the Japanese maples which dripped with kaleidoscopic dew. 

Kaede's eyes glittered as he held his old Taron JL, "Since you’re back home now, shall we commemorate with a photo?"

"Do you even need to ask?” Chiaki beamed and set his thermos down on the gazebo as he cuddled up to Kaede's shoulder. He felt an arm squeeze around his waist, strong and secure.

"Ready?" Kaede held the camera above them at an angle, "Three, two, one. Cheese!"

The camera lights flashed and Chiaki's lips grazed Kaede's cheek.

Kaede touched his face, surprised.

The corners of Chiaki’s lips tugged into a Cheshire Cat grin, "Oops, can’t be helped."

Suddenly, the arm gripping him tightened and pulled Chiaki into a firm embrace. Their bodies pressed together warmly under all those layers of clothes, and Chiaki's cap stole away with a gust of wind. Their noses were dyed red in the chilly air.

A subtle, passionate knowing communicated itself through their eyes.

They kissed, and kissed, and kissed, with the longing of twenty-plus years on their lips. Like if they separated for a second, they might forget each others’ tastes.

All around, The trees of Miura Gardens whispered and blushed.

 

 

🍁

 

 

🍁

 

 

Author's Account:

NatsumeTsukumo (SH).