Chapter 3: The Hometown Dog

Chapter 3:
The Hometown Dog

 

IN THE BEGINNING, I didn’t want to go. For one thing, I barely knew my grandparents, and for another, I sincerely despised the thought of spending three whole days bored out of my skull without my friends or comic books. But my parents paid no mind to the sullen look that was (probably) on my little face at the time, and since the grown-ups were in charge, I was dragged out to the countryside regardless.

When I arrived, however, I quickly changed my tune. The instant I laid eyes on that fuzzball, the dull, empty scenery lit up in dazzling colors; when I reached out, he jumped at me eagerly. We were both too young to be mistrusting, and so we quickly became each other’s only playmate. His name was Gon, and he was the new puppy my grandparents had just adopted.

In a blink, the two of us were already licking each other’s cheeks and noses—okay, maybe the licking was a little more one-sided. From Gon’s perspective, everyone else was huge, so for all I knew, maybe he targeted me as the weakest-looking of the bunch. Likewise, from my perspective, he was easier to hug and hold than the much bigger dog behind him. He was tiny, with fuzzy baby fur, and I could pick him up with one hand. Naturally, I took a liking to him right away.

No matter where I went, Gon was right there with me—the only exception was the bathtub. He would even sleep in my bed with me, but I could never get much sleep myself since I was terrified of rolling over and crushing him by accident. Ultimately, I ended up sleeping right up against the wall. That was how I discovered neck cramps for the first time in my young life.

Point being, Gon was my best friend for those three days I spent trapped out here. By the end, I was so infatuated with him that when it came time for us to go back home, I cried and threw a tantrum because I didn’t want to be apart from him. Looking back, that was the first time I ever threw a fit…and it was probably the last time too. My parents weren’t sure how to console me, so they offered to let me adopt my own puppy back home, but I didn’t want a different puppy—I wanted Gon.

My grandma understood the problem faster than anyone else. I could remember her flicking my mother on the forehead to rebuke her. Then she turned and scolded me quietly: “No tantrums.” With one sentence, she put an end to my tears, then stroked my hair and added, “There will always be next year.”

Her touch was so gentle, it reminded me of how much I’d complained on my way here. I was sure I didn’t deserve her kindness, and so I started crying all over again, this time for a different reason. Choking through my tears, I promised her and Grandpa that I’d come back.

Sniffling, I gave Gon one last hug, and he happily nuzzled his face against mine. I prayed I would remember his warmth forever… I never wanted to forget, no matter how much time passed.

I wanted to remember him, if only in my dreams.

 

***

 

And so I dreamed of my past. Cliché, I know. For some reason I was watching from a third-person perspective, and truth be told, I couldn’t bear to watch myself cry openly, even as a child. Feelings of shame and something akin to guilt filled my chest, scorching my cheeks.

I could feel sweat clinging to my back, my forehead, and my nose. Slowly, I opened my eyes. My consciousness felt like it was being squeezed out of a tube, scattering in the wind, and everything was fuzzy still. My head ached as I looked over at the window. Through the gaps in the curtains, I could see the faint beginnings of dawn.

My sister was curled up in a ball in the bed with me, sleeping as soundly as a cicada. Taking care not to rustle the light summer blanket, I eased myself to my feet, then crept from the room and down the stairs so I wouldn’t wake her. For once, I wasn’t feeling like a sleepy little sloth today. But there was a different sort of fog in my mind, and I wanted to get some fresh air to clear it away.

“Itchy…”

I scratched my elbow. The mosquitoes had devoured me mercilessly last night, paying no mind to my nostalgic, sentimental mood. They weren’t so easygoing as to let a free meal slip away from them.

Down on the first floor, all was dark and quiet. Apparently, no one else was awake yet. Keeping my distance from the bedrooms, I walked around to the living room, where I found Gon lying next to the TV. Despite the summer heat, he was all wrapped up in a blanket, unmoving. Anxiously, I crouched down, reached out to touch his muzzle, and was relieved to confirm that he was still breathing. His face was perfectly relaxed; I could only hope he was resting comfortably, unrestrained by the burden of his heavy body.

As I gazed at him, my lips parted. I wanted to tell him something, but the words wouldn’t come. How could I begin to express the way I felt? I couldn’t find the answer. It was like I had turned into Adachi: all emotion and zero communication.

In the end, I walked away without saying a word. Like a coward, I headed to the back door, slipped on my sandals, and fled the house. I didn’t lock the door behind me, but I wasn’t planning to go far, so I figured it was no big deal. Not like any burglars were awake at this hour anyway, right? Belatedly, I let out a yawn.

Even the cicadas were still sleeping; the only sound was the rhythmic crunch of gravel under my feet as I walked down the driveway. Dawn was fast approaching, but the darkness of night still lingered in the sky. The air wasn’t especially cold either—just the lukewarm leftovers from yesterday’s sunshine. It matched my dull gray surroundings to a T. But this color scheme was a familiar one.

Every year, summer break would roll around, and for three days I’d struggle to sleep in a bed that wasn’t mine. I’d end up waking up ahead of everyone else in the house, so I’d go outside to entertain myself without disturbing anybody, and like clockwork, Gon would pick up my scent and chase after me. We spent so many hours just running around the driveway together… This was back when my sister was still in diapers.

The one thing I could remember more clearly than anything else was the feeling of Gon’s face nuzzled against mine. He was so big and fluffy, it felt like I was hugging a cloud. Those were some of the happiest moments of my entire life.

Gon and I were both so innocent—so ignorant. We never stopped to think about what lay ahead. I saw him every year, so while leaving him never got any easier, I believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that we would always have more time to run around together. And now those same feelings were killing me inside. I was so relieved that he was alive, but at the same time, it hurt.

“I like you” wasn’t enough, but “I love you” didn’t feel right. It was (hopefully) too early for “Thanks for everything,” but “Be well” didn’t seem to fit either. So what exactly did I want to tell him? How did I want to unchain myself from this misery that filled my chest, my throat, and now my mind?

I stared down at my feet, but found no kernels of wisdom. Frustrated, I ran my hands through my unbrushed hair. I knew something was lurking in me, deep down, making me restless. But…I…

“Oh, hello. Bit early to go for a walk, isn’t it?”

I flinched at the sudden voice. That would make two of us, sir.

It was the neighbor, Iwaya-san. Like yesterday, he was wearing a turban, but today he had a large backpack over his shoulders. With his wrinkles and his tanned skin, he looked like a traveling sage from a distant land. Not exactly the kind of next-door neighbor you’d usually see out here in the sticks. I wasn’t expecting to encounter anyone outside, except maybe the newspaper delivery guy—so what was he doing, wandering onto our private property and striking up casual conversations like he owned the place?

“Good morning,” I replied stiffly.

“Yes, good morning,” he replied without batting an eye. “Then again, there aren’t many people outside at this time of day, so it makes for a rather peaceful stroll.”

“Oh, uh…yeah…I guess so.” Truth be told, this countryside village was so small, I was having trouble believing it ever wasn’t peaceful.

“So you’re…uhh, hmmm. The granddaughter?”

“I’m Shimamura. Shimamura Hougetsu.”

“Ah, just like the famous literary critic! Well, that’ll be easy to remember!”

He let out a hearty laugh, and the sight of his smile reminded me: There used to be an older girl who would arrive to visit family around the same time as me, come to think of it. Whenever we were both in town, the two of us would always play together with Gon. Judging from the age difference, that girl was probably Iwaya-san’s granddaughter.

All that aside, I was distracted by the object in his hands. When he noticed me looking, he extended his arm and thrust it in my face. “This what you’re lookin’ at?” It was a small, crudely made bowl.

“Uh, yeah,” I answered vaguely. After all, it wasn’t the sort of thing someone generally carried around outside. At my response, however, he gleefully held it aloft.

“Well, you see, my granddaughter made it for me!”

“Huh?”

“She’s training to be a ceramic artist, and she recently made me this bowl. My very own custom bowl!”

“Oh… Cool…”

Now I understood why he was carrying it around—so he could brag to someone. Who did he expect to find wandering around at dawn before even the cicadas were awake? I got the sense that everyone who knew this eccentric old man was worried about him, and for a variety of reasons.

“Doesn’t it just speak to you? Can you feel the intellectual depth of the plain design?”

“Ha ha… Sad to say, I don’t know too much about the fine arts,” I replied with an awkward smile.

“Not to worry! My granddaughter’s masterpiece resonates with even the most ignorant of children!”

“Ha ha.” I wasn’t mad, but I sure wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Therefore, I shall bestow unto you this fishing pole.”

“What do you mean, therefore…?”

The locals here (my mother included) didn’t seem to understand how to connect their sentences correctly. But sure enough, he offered me a fishing pole. Reluctantly, I took it, though I wasn’t sure what need I would have of it. It was a plain black pole—actually, I felt like I recognized it from somewhere. There aren’t any flea markets around here, are there?

“Go rediscover your inner child and fish to your heart’s content.”

“How are those two things related…?” Actually, I hadn’t gone fishing since the time I went with Hino last year.

“Not to worry! Once you’re done, you can just give it back to your grandpa for me.”

“Oh, so that’s why.”

“When you need to think for a while, fishing’s your best bet.”

I looked up sharply. Did he read my mind?

“After all, if you just sit around, you’re liable to fall asleep!” he continued, his bushy beard puffing up like a cloud with each word.

“Ugh, yeah. Relatable.” Every time I folded my arms to mull something over, I’d find myself lying in bed five minutes later.

“Oh?”

Just then, Iwaya-san craned his neck to look behind me. Then I heard a scratching sound at the back door and turned to look. Judging from the size of the silhouette and the big ears, I had a feeling I knew who it was… I raced over and opened the door, and sure enough, Gon looked up at me with sleepy eyes.

“Aww, Gon…” Did I wake you on my way out? Poor guy.

In the past he would eagerly follow me outside, but today he didn’t even jump up at me. With his cloudy left eye, he was a shadow of his former self. And at some point, I grew tall enough to tower over him, my shadow engulfing him completely…

I felt a stinging pain in my nose, like I’d popped a blood vessel. I felt compelled to reach up and pinch it shut, lest blood start trickling down. It was already feeling wet in there as it was… Probably just sweat or something, though.

Looking at Gon made me feel a lot of different ways. But for once in my life, I couldn’t find the words to describe it, and no amount of thinking could help me. So instead I crouched down and stroked his head.

“Good morning, Gon.”

It’s important to start the day by saying hello, I reassured myself quietly. He barked back in response. But if I didn’t find a solution to this communication breakdown, I was no better than Adachi.

“Oh, if it isn’t Gon! Didn’t know you were still alive, old boy. Guess we’re both too stubborn to kick the bucket, eh?”

Iwaya-san held out his hand for Gon to shake, but the dog didn’t move. Then Iwaya-san reached out and grabbed a paw for himself. Gon didn’t object. After a small handshake, the old man let go.

“Then again, I was already one foot in the grave when you got here, wasn’t I?” He let out a hearty chuckle. “Well, I’ll be seeing you.”

Time froze as the old man locked eyes with the old dog. It felt a bit too long and drawn-out to be a simple morning greeting. But after it was over, Iwaya-san turned and walked away. He was still so full of energy… On reflex, I called out to him.

“Hey, um…”

“What is it, child?” the man asked in a kindly voice. And as it turned out, with a little encouragement, even the heaviest of questions could tumble off my tongue.

“Does getting older make life harder?”

There was nothing to be gained from asking him this question, and yet I didn’t think twice about it.

“Hmmm.” His turban swayed with the motions of his head as he mulled it over. “I should have known a literary girl like you would ask deep, esoteric questions.”

“I’m not a literary girl,” I retorted before I could stop myself. If anyone was “esoteric” here, it was him.

“I’ve got a granddaughter who sends me handmade pottery, so I can’t say my life’s very hard at all. Does that answer your question?” he asked, his eyes gleaming.

“Yes, of course.” Not at all, actually. Clearly, I asked the wrong person.

“Next time, I suggest you reserve that sort of question for someone whose answer you truly wish to hear.” He shot a pointed look at Gon, then bounced on his heels, adjusting his grip on his backpack. “Now then, I’ve got another day of treasure-hunting ahead of me!”

“Treasure-hunting?”

“If I got my way, I’d be searching the ocean floor right about now…”

And so he walked off, grumbling to himself as he went. Every time his turban bounced, I caught a glimpse of the sunrise on the horizon beyond him; I cast the fishing line in the direction of the light like I was trying to reel in the sun. What if I could turn back time? It was a stupid hypothetical, and yet I paused to consider.

“Ask the dog, he says. Would you even understand a word I said?” I asked Gon, tilting my head at him.

He simply stared back at me, squinting.

 

***

 

“Are you sure you can manage on your own, Hougetsu? Want me to come with you?” my grandmother asked fretfully when I told her I was going fishing.

Relax, Grandma. I’m not gonna fall and cut my head open like you did. “No, that’s okay. I know you’ve got bad knees and all.”

“Hi-yah!”

With a loud cry and surprisingly good form, she threw out a karate kick, her toes taut. Her leg went a lot higher than I expected too. But then she hunched over, clutching her foot.

“Grandma?!”

“Got a cramp in the arch of my foot…”

“Right. You sure are my mother’s mother.” I can see the familial resemblance.

“Okay, all better now! Let’s see… What’ll you do for lunch?”

“Not sure… I’m not planning to be gone for too long, though.” I looked at the clock. Not even a full hour had passed since I ate breakfast, so lunchtime was still a good three hours from now.

“Let’s pack you a lunch just in case. I’ll make you some rice balls.”

“Thanks, Grandma.”

She jogged off into the kitchen and started prepping my food: rice balls with pork cutlets. “I’ll put it in a lunch bag for you along with a water canteen. That ought to tide you over until lunch.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to stay out of the sun.” As I took the lunch bag, a shadow moved in my peripheral vision; I looked over and found Gon’s cataracts looking back at me. “Gon!”

He walked over and rubbed his nose against my legs, tickling me.

“What’s the matter, boy?” I asked, rubbing his back.

Grandma peeked in at us to check on Gon for herself, then smiled warmly. “He wants to go with you,” she explained on his behalf.

Well, he shouldn’t. But I held my tongue.

“You know how he is. He always loves to follow you around.”

“Yeah…”

But how long was that “always” going to last?

Would he even be able to walk that far?

In the past, the roads seemed to stretch on forever. But back in those days, we both had boundless energy. Now it felt like the opposite… Was it because we were bigger?

As I looked down at the dog, Grandma tore up some bread and put it in a little baggie. “Here’s a snack for Gon.”

“Thanks.”

“If you get hungry, you can have some too.”

“Um…c-cool.”

“Oh, good gracious. I’m joking, dear!” She laughed merrily. Belatedly, I smiled. But then her expression went dead serious. “I’m not going senile,” she insisted, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

Uh, Grandma, you’re starting to freak me out.

On my way to the front door, I bumped into my sister, who had just finished brushing her teeth. The sides of her face were still damp too. I swear, it’s like she doesn’t know how to use a towel.

“Nee-chan, where are you going?”

“See that? Take a guess.” I pointed to the fishing pole resting against the wall. My sister turned and looked at it.

“River fishing?” she murmured. “I’ll come too.”

“No can do, kiddo. It’s too dangerous.”

I held a hand up to stop her; naturally, she scowled. But I refused to take my sister to a place where she might get hurt. Call it my sisterly instinct or something.

“Then how come Gon gets to go?”

“Are you kidding me? He’s way older than you.”

He and I were only one or two years apart. We were practically the same age…and yet…I couldn’t help but curse Mother Nature for how she designed his life cycle.

“Settle down, dear. Old Granny will play with you.”

As my sister pouted, Grandma put a hand on her shoulder. Then my sister’s frown faded, and she cocked her head. “You will?”

“We can play Bomberman!” Grandma exclaimed, ushering my sister along. She just wants an excuse to play video games, doesn’t she? I thought to myself with an amused smirk.

I used to play video games with that neighbor girl too. But these days, she was learning how to make weird-looking bowls, apparently… Looking back, she was always good with her hands; she would fold origami animals for me. One time, we made a big ship out of newspaper.

“Oh, and Hougetsu, make sure to wear a hat while you’re out.”

Before she dragged my sister away, Grandma opened the shoe cupboard and pulled out a paint-splattered dark-blue baseball cap, which she then placed on my head. It smelled weather-beaten.

“What else… Oh, a parasol! You’ll need one of those!”

Next, she pulled out a black umbrella and handed it to me. It was elegant and lacy, so it was probably hers. But with this in addition to the lunch bag and the fishing pole, I was starting to feel like a pack mule. Still, I couldn’t possibly turn her down, so I let her fuss over me.

“Be careful out there, won’t you?”

“I will. And when I come home, maybe we can all play together,” I called out like a good big sister.

“No thanks,” my sister shot back in a huff.

“Okay, then.” Man, she’s such a brat. If only she took a leaf out of Yashiro’s book and—actually, never mind. Bad idea.

I locked the door behind me, then let out a warm sigh.

“Why is she so nice to me?”

How could anyone manage to be that kind-hearted? It was a mystery to someone like me, who always felt uncomfortable on the receiving end of someone else’s goodwill.

“…Let’s go, Gon.”

And so off we went. Gon was already panting in the heat, but he trudged forward nonetheless. When I opened the umbrella, he moved close to my feet so he could be in the shade. If I started running, he probably wouldn’t be able to keep up… It used to be the other way around, but now our roles were reversed.

Today, it felt like the cicadas’ drone was an invisible net surrounding us. It was so perfectly rhythmic, it threatened to lull me to sleep if I listened for too long, so I shook it out of my mind and faced forward.

In the driveway, my father was holding the garden hose, washing the car. Probably easier to do it here than back home in our tiny driveway, I guess. He had his back turned, but he must have seen us coming in the car’s reflection, because he turned to look at us—very nearly spraying me with water in the process.

“Heading out?”

“Yeah.”

My father looked at Gon, then the fishing pole. “Haven’t had a good carp dinner in a while.”

“I’m not a miracle worker, Dad.”

“Want me to drive you?” he offered, jerking his chin at the freshly cleaned car.

I looked down at Gon, then looked up. Beyond the parasol lay a blue sky devoid of clouds. Then I slowly shook my head. “That’s okay. We’ll walk.”

“Okie-doke. Be careful out there, pumpkin.”

With that, my father went back to washing the car. He was already dripping with sweat, which made me wonder why he didn’t turn the hose on himself instead.

Then Grandpa popped out from the house. “Wash ours too while you’re at it, won’t you, son?” he asked with a grin.

After that, Gon and I headed down the road the way my family had come when we first drove here, crossing over the little bridge and snaking our way down the hill to the riverside. Then the road looped back under the bridge in the direction of the mountains. It felt like I was traveling a secret path far removed from civilization, which gave me a little thrill.

When I was younger, I used to sneak away with Gon without telling anyone. Then one time, when Grandma came to find me, she slipped and cracked her head open. I could remember it all like it was yesterday. At the time, she had laughed it off, so I wasn’t too worried about the blood loss, but looking back, it was a really serious injury.

Years later, when I was older, I realized it was indirectly my fault for going off to play at the river. That was the moment I first learned what guilt felt like, and I still regretted it to this day.

I wasn’t really a…considerate sort of person, for lack of a better word. I was no pure-hearted saint. As a result, I hated feeling indebted to anyone, because that would mean I owed them kindness in return. But it was wrong to perform kindness purely out of obligation—at that point, it wasn’t truly kindness anymore. I stumbled over this paradox over and over until eventually it began to affect my well-being. I knew maintaining strong interpersonal relationships was an important part of living a good life, but if it kept causing problems every time…

Blegh, I can’t describe it. You can tell I don’t use my brain too much.

“Now I’m confused…”

My vision began to spin like I was overheated. I put a hand over half of my face and waited for it to pass. When I looked down, Gon was sitting there, waiting patiently—no, he was probably exhausted himself, come to think of it. I crouched down beside him, stroked his head, and decided we’d take a break for a little longer. With the help of Grandma’s parasol, the summer sun really wasn’t too bad.

As I gazed down at Gon, his eyelids drooped like he was ready to take a nap, right there on the spot.

Then an intrusive thought barged in: If I ran off and left him here, what would happen to him? He didn’t have the energy to chase after me anymore. Would he make it home hours later, hunt me down, and bite me? Or would he run out of energy, pass out on the side of the road, wither up, and…

The thought made me sick.

Sweat rose up from God knows where on me and dripped onto Gon, who flinched and moved away.

“Hey, it’s not that gross! …Okay, maybe it is.”

I let out a dry laugh. He was slow in all things, even dodging my sweat drops. I stared down at him for a while, humming loudly for no clear reason.

“Okay, break time’s over!” I announced as I straightened up. He didn’t answer.

I wasn’t confident I could shrug my shoulders and claim that this was simply the kind of person I was. Did I really know that for sure? It was all so frustrating.

We walked along the river shoreline, and as the buildings receded into the distance, the ground beneath my feet grew rocky and uneven. The road widened, and nature began to surround me on all sides—almost as if we were going back in time. The smell of dirt shifted to the smell of water. As the cicadas grew louder, the sound of cars in the distance began to fade. The babble of the brook was now close at hand; I could practically feel it washing me clean.

Overhead, the tree branches formed a lazy archway, serving as a protective roof. As we walked under it, the lush summery green seeped into us, and with each uneven step, my viewpoint shifted a tiny bit higher. Every lungful of fresh nature made me feel like something might take root inside me too.

A large, flat rock jutted out at a right angle over the river; I sat there to cast my line. At first I kicked back to relax, but over time I gradually hunched forward. The rock was in a shady spot, and yet somehow it had still absorbed the sun’s heat, warming my butt through my shorts. The breeze felt nice, so I took off my baseball cap and let my long hair fly free, dancing in the wind. The air was cold enough to send a shiver down my spine, even in the middle of summer.

Gon lay in the shade of the parasol with his eyes closed. His perfect stillness against the flat rock made me anxious, so I reached out to pet him now and then. It was a relief to feel him breathing, however faintly. He opened his right eye to look at me, so I gave him some more pets before pulling my hand away. Then he closed his eye again.

According to Grandma, he would often sleep all day long. Did he spend his days drifting in and out of dreams? Was the Gon I saw before me merely sleepwalking?

But right as I settled in, I discovered a critical flaw in my plan:

“Wait… I forgot to bring a bucket for the fish…”

I wasn’t the kind of wild child who could happily carry a flopping fish in her bare hands, so my father would just have to live without carp for another night. Not that I actually thought I could catch one, of course. Without any bait on the hook, I couldn’t even lure in Yashiro.

When you need to think for a while, fishing’s your best bet, or so I was told. But…did I have anything to think about?

“Hmmm…”

For some reason, Adachi came to mind. Maybe I saw a common thread between her and the dog sleeping wearily beside me. She always looked so defeated whenever things didn’t go her way… She was the kind of girl who wore her heart on her sleeve, which I could appreciate. It really helped me understand her.

If I were to sum it up, Adachi just…didn’t have much experience dealing with people. But that was exactly what made her so interesting to me. Speaking as someone whose overexposure to social interaction had left me numb to it, she was my polar opposite…and every now and then, I found myself tempted to protect her the way I wished someone would have protected me.

This was why I gently suggested that she try to make friends with other people. To me, this was hardly unreasonable…and yet I got the sense that Adachi would never truly fit in, no matter who told her to. School never taught us how to manage our emotions, and she had already spent her most formative years closed off to the world, so she was off to an extremely late start. She had skipped over all the simple stuff, so she was easily influenced by the strong personalities of everyone around her… Right, that would explain why she’s so unstable. That’s why she latched onto me, and that’s why I affect her so strongly. I nodded to myself as the faint breeze stroked my cheek. Honestly, I half-expected her to profess her love for me any day now.

Then, as if Adachi had read my mind, my phone chose that exact moment to start ringing. I pulled it out of my bag and checked the screen.

“Oh, I was wrong.”

It wasn’t Adachi—it was Tarumi. I started to answer the phone, but my fingers froze. I looked at Gon. Our eyes met, and my throat quavered.

The phone rang loudly in protest, cutting in front of the cicadas. And as their drone receded into the background, it felt like those pests were looking down at us from a distance. Engulfed in noise, the back of my skull felt obnoxiously heavy. The phone was ringing…and I was just watching it ring.

In the end, I didn’t pick up; I just held the phone and waited for it to stop. When it did, I promptly powered it off and tossed it back into my bag. Why on earth did I bring my phone out here? Nothing in the world was more nerve-wracking than letting a phone ring. It gave me anxiety like nobody’s business.

But to be fair, this was possibly… No, I shouldn’t dance around it. Let’s face it: This is my last chance to spend time with Gon. But I could feel something—my conscience?—telling me I was just reaching for an excuse.

“What do you think?” I asked Gon as he lay beside me. He didn’t seem to understand the question, and so he remained silent.

In the past, whenever our eyes met, he would jump up at me in joy, and we would do a gleeful little dance…but now neither of us moved a muscle. We used to run at full speed and feel the wind against our faces, but now we were strangers to it.

Shivering in the leisurely breeze, I directed my gaze into the distance.

“We’ve really grown up, haven’t we?”

The words made my chest feel tight…and my throat…and my cheeks. Something swelled up inside me, wringing the breath from my lungs and circling around my eyes. What was this feeling? I couldn’t remember. Did I always stiffen up like this whenever something happened to me?

But the river paid me no mind. It drifted along quietly, solemnly. The sky and earth didn’t care one whit about the lives of those trapped between, and at this point, their apathy was starting to feel hostile.

I had no special powers. I couldn’t keep Gon from dying. Here in reality, all his dozens of dreams would only melt away in the summer sun. What would be left of the time we shared after that? Would the sun shine down into his dreams?

As I sat there, holding the fishing pole with the cold wind blowing in my face, I thought long and hard.

 

***

 

With no fish to bring back for dinner, the two of us headed home empty-handed. Partway through, Gon’s footsteps turned slow and deliberate, so I decided to make a pit stop on the side of the road. There, we sat and had ourselves a little picnic; Gon ate bread crumbs out of my hand like a large, ungainly bird. It reminded me of younger days when he used to beg me for food, and I averted my eyes.

Slowly, we traveled against the current of the river until we reached Grandpa and Grandma’s house. As we walked up the driveway, I could see that my father had moved on to helping Grandpa polish his car. It certainly saved me the effort of having to go look for him later.

“Here you go, Grandpa.”

“Welcome home, child. What’s that you’ve got there?” He tilted his head in confusion, sponge in one hand, sweating profusely.

What the? “Uh…the neighbor said to return it to you…”

“Did I loan it out again? I don’t remember, but my memory’s not as good as his… Well, thank you, sweetheart.” He took the fishing pole.

Then I sensed my father’s gaze and raised my empty hands. “I don’t have a carp for you, Dad.”

“Darn it.” He shook his head and lamented my failure. You know, sometimes I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not.

As I headed for the back door, I glanced at the doghouse. Unlike me, however, Gon showed absolutely no interest in it. It wasn’t his—it belonged to the dog who preceded him. What sort of relationship did the two of them have? Whenever he saw the doghouse, did he think about his old friend? Or had he forgotten the other dog completely?

My shoulders ached as I opened the door. Inside, the first thing I heard was a shrill cackle.

“Eeee hee hee! Like taking candy from a baby!” Grandma declared as she sat in front of the living room TV.

“Grrrrr! I can’t win at all!” my sister grumbled next to her, plainly pouting. Apparently. the old woman hadn’t gone easy on her.

“I’m back.”

“Oh, Hougetsu! Welcome home! Hee hee hee…” Grandma looked over her shoulder at me. She was still holding her controller and cackling. Calm down, Grandma.

As I was taking my shoes off, Gon walked into the house and heaved a breath, staring at the floor, tail hanging low. He looked utterly drained. “Get some rest, boy,” I told him gently. He trudged over to the corner of the room, curled up under his blanket, and flopped down on the floor. I had bought him that blanket a long time ago, and frankly, I was impressed it was still in good condition.

Then I sat down next to my little sister, who smacked my head. Before I could even react, she leaned against me wordlessly, wriggling between my legs.

“What’s wrong? Is somebody being a needy little baby?”

“Shut up!”

Why was she mad at me? As I grimaced, Grandma started laughing again. “Ho ho ho! Everybody loves Hougetsu.”

“I wouldn’t say everybody—”

“No, I don’t!” my sister shot back. I tucked her hair behind her ear…and then I yanked on it. “Gyah!”

“Did you eat your lunch?” Grandma asked as she pressed buttons on the controller.

“Yup.”

“If you’re still hungry, I could warm up some more cutlets.”

“Hmm…” I rubbed my tummy through my shirt. “Nah, I’m okay.”

“All right then. If you get hungry, let me know. I got us some kusa-dango as a snack.”

“Thanks.” I let go of my sister’s ear.

“What was that for?!” she protested. I smothered her face in my chest. “Mmffgg!”

My grandmother’s words and deeds were brimming with love, which I interpreted as kindness. But I couldn’t help but wonder: Why?

“Hey, Grandma?”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“How can I learn to be kind, like you?”

A cartoon bomb exploded on the screen. She looked over her shoulder at me as she played. “What’s wrong, Hougetsu?”

“Oh, no, it’s nothing…” When she confronted me about my question head-on, it made me feel awkward for asking in the first place.

“Treat each day together like it’s your last. With that mindset, you’ll never take anyone for granted,” she answered matter-of-factly, without a trace of pride, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It was the kind of sentiment that spoke volumes about her character: open-hearted and generous.

In our culture, there’s a saying: Treasure every encounter, for it will never recur. Rationally, I could see the logic in it right away; it was the sort of attitude I should have taken with Gon. But I couldn’t picture myself actually taking this lesson to heart. I just couldn’t give that much of myself for very long or else I couldn’t survive in this world.

I hung my head, and my gaze drooped down to the dozing dog.

“You don’t have to worry, dear. You’re already a kindhearted person.”

I looked back at her and shook my head. “No, I’m really not.” Was she just saying it to be nice? Even I could tell I wasn’t the considerate type. I was missing that soft, gentle quality that actual kind people had.

Then she whirled around to face me and said, “Hougetsu, you’re a real perfectionist, you know that?”

“…I am?” No one had ever said that to me before, and I wasn’t sure how to react.

“You don’t have to live your whole life in symmetry with everyone around you.”

“…What?” But that’s the thing, Grandma—I’m not symmetrical with them at all. “You know they were calling me a delinquent just last year, right?”

“Relax. When you were little, you were a good kid.”

“And now…?”

“You’re a very good kid!”

She reached out and stroked—no, ruffled my hair. My head bobbled around until my vision started to spin.

“You try too hard to keep your relationships perfectly even. When there’s an imbalance, you start feeling uncomfortable. Frankly, you’re so sincere, it’s hard to believe you’re related to my daughter at all!”

Setting aside the casual diss toward my mother—me, sincere? I thought back to how I handled the phone call at the river and found myself perplexed.

“I don’t really get it,” I replied, like the ignorant child I was.

But Grandma was a very patient woman. “Give me your number, Hougetsu.”

“Huh?”

“Your phone number. I’ll take photos of Gon and send them to you.” She grinned at me, her face as round and soft as a kusa-dango.

At the sound of his name, I looked over at the dog. Surely she shouldn’t have been able to connect the dots from my question alone… I was embarrassed that she could see through me so easily.

“Grandma, you have a cell phone?” my sister asked curiously, ignoring my angst.

“A smartphone, in fact!” Cackling, she pulled it out of her pocket and held it up like a 19th-century samurai pillbox. Okay, maybe that analogy’s a little too obscure.

“Lucky!”

“If your parents get you a phone someday, do trade numbers with your old granny, won’t you, dear?” Grandma grinned.

“Okay!” my sister nodded eagerly.

“And don’t forget to give me your number later, Hougetsu.” She shot me a thumbs-up, and I felt the will to resist drain from my body.

“Yaaaay…”

After that, I went limp until I could no longer feel the fatigue from all that walking. Then Grandma put her phone away and picked up a controller instead. “Play with us, Hougetsu!”

“Sure, but…there’s only two controllers…”

“Ever heard of a multitap?”

She opened the cabinet under the TV and pulled out an extender that added more controller ports. Once it was all plugged in, my sister sat up and grabbed her controller.

“You’re being really mature today,” I praised her, since she hadn’t interrupted my conversation with Grandma. Then she stuck her tongue out at me. I stand corrected. Why did she always have to pick a fight with me over every little thing?

Just then, the bedroom door opened and my mother walked out, rubbing her eyes. With a big yawn, she sat down next to us.

“Finally awake, are you?”

“Yep…”

She had a gnarly case of bedhead, particularly in the back, where it stuck up in all directions like a lion’s mane. This was one trait I wished I hadn’t inherited.

“Oh, Bomberman! Awesome! I’m in!” Her eyes lit up as she raised her hand to volunteer.

“Wish you could’ve been here a little sooner. Now I have to plug everything in all over again,” Grandma complained. But she couldn’t hide the amusement in her voice.

As I watched her, and Gon just behind her, my heart began to race like it was marching for a revolution. I tapped my fingers on my knees in time to its beat. No matter how deeply I delved inside myself, right now, all I found was warmth and joy…and I wished I could bask in it forever.

 

***

 

And so, two days later, our yearly summer trip came to an end. Whenever we left my grandparents’ house, family tradition dictated that we use the front door and go the long way around.

“See you next year, Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Or next month, if you don’t want to wait that long,” Grandma replied.

“She’s right, you know,” Grandpa nodded.

“We can make it a monthly thing if you pay me,” my mother snarked, but we all laughed and ignored her.

Setting that aside…Grandma had brought my dear friend outside to see me off, and it was time to say farewell.

“Gon.”

He looked up at me, and I gave him a big hug, nuzzling my face in his fur. He was still just as warm as I remembered.

“Gon…”

My voice trembled quietly, but the words on my tongue ebbed like the tide. I just couldn’t say goodbye. Then I felt a hand on my head, and I knew it was Grandma’s without even looking.

“I’ll send you lots of pictures, sweetheart.” Her voice was painfully gentle. “Okay?”

“…Okay.”

I could tell she was trying to make me feel better, and I couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. Then, at last, I straightened up…and my mother clapped me on the shoulder.

“No tantrum? My little girl’s all grown up!”

“Shut up, Mother,” I shot back.

Then my sister looked up at me, her eyes wide. I looked back at her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…”

She seemed to want to say something, but oddly enough, she held back. Curious though I was, I didn’t press her on it. Instead, I faced forward and started walking. I knew if I looked over my shoulder, I’d run back and give Gon another hug.

So I walked around from the front of the house to the driveway in the back…where Grandma and Grandpa were already waiting for us. Again.

“This tradition is so utterly pointless…”

With one last energetic wave, we piled into my father’s newly polished car. Then we buckled our seatbelts and drove off. And as the vibrations massaged my back, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment.

I thought long and hard about Gon, but in the end, I never managed to get the words out. Still, that in itself was a valid choice. Not everything had to be so cut and dried. Just because I couldn’t express the indescribable feelings in my heart, it didn’t mean they weren’t still there. I wasn’t heartless—I was a human being with emotions of my own.

And after we arrived back at home, those emotions spurred me to action. I got out of the car, turned to face the road, and screamed with every fiber of my being until my lungs gave out.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!”

I screamed and screamed until my brain begged for oxygen, until my throat was sore, until my ears started to ring. Sweat came pouring out of me like I was back in that sauna. But for once, I felt alive. A new sun was forming behind my eyes, lighting up all the dusty corners of my mind.

Ignoring the alarmed stares I was surely getting from the rest of my family, I then immediately placed a call on my cell phone. She answered so fast, she reminded me of the way Gon would always race to the door to greet me. The thought made me chuckle.

In a voice as dry as a rocky riverbed, I said to her: “Adachi…I’m home.”