Side Story: Even Spirits Dream of Summer

Side Story:
Even Spirits Dream of Summer

 

MY MOTHER always looked quite pale.

I had a distinct memory of her sitting atop her futon in a Japanese tatami room, brushing out her long black hair, which was as dark as a starless night. The comb made it shine and drew out my mother’s true beauty. She generally maintained a rather neutral expression, though I recall her face softening at the end of the day when she brushed out her hair like this.

As a child, watching her, I sat transfixed, forgetting all about my wooden block toys. My mother smiled when she noticed me. I brightened and smiled myself at this rare show of emotion, but her face quickly hardened again. She waved me over with a pale hand and pulled me into a warm embrace. “You can’t smile, you know, not outside.”

“Why?”

“Bad things will happen to you.”

“Huh?”

Mother was always telling me to rid myself of my emotions, insisting that I didn’t need them to live. You see, emotions were expressly forbidden for members of the Inugami Demon line. Happiness, anger, sadness, fun—all of these emotions could in some way result in jealousy.

Inugami was a tsukimono, a possessing power that had been created using techniques similar to those of a shaman or other like practitioner. But Inugami’s creation had been both horrifying and cruel, and the family it was tied to would be forever known as a “tsukimono clan.” Our tsukimono, Inugami, had brought great blessings to its bound family. However, if someone who belonged to Inugami felt envy toward someone or something, it would bring great suffering to that subject—cursing it with illness, pain, and ruin.

You must not feel. That was life for those born into a tsukimono clan, whose obligation was to perform exorcisms for the sake of society.

“That’s our lot in life,” Mother said. This was a phrase she often used. She stroked the strange creature on her lap and sighed. “You must be strong. Any time you feel lonely, or like you might lose control of yourself, just pull Inugami close and sleep.”

After she said this, she called a servant to remove me from her room.

That was the last time I ever saw her. For the six months following, I was forced to live in a pitch-black room in order to better enable me to suppress my emotions. Only after those six months did I learn of my mother’s passing.

“Hey, partner. I guess that means you’re my master now,” the creature said.

A bit long for a dog, it had black fur and red spots. It almost looked like a weasel with an elongated face and pointed ears. It bared its teeth in a kind of smile before rubbing its body up against me affectionately.

 

***

“Suimei! Wake up, it’s time for breakfast,” Kaori called.

As always, the spirit realm lay dark. A glimmerfly skimmed past my face. I rubbed at my head to try to ease a throbbing headache and let out a deep breath. Reaching out unconsciously to my side, I suddenly tensed up—of course, he wasn’t there. The pain in my head was an ever-present annoyance for me, but my missing companion was a far larger concern.

He was gone. That was the whole reason I’d even come to the spirit realm ten days ago.

He’d been by my side since my earliest memories. No matter how many dangerous trials I faced as an exorcist, he had always been with me, an irreplaceable asset.

My search had started in the human world, but I’d come up empty everywhere I looked. Left with no other options, I took my search to the spirit realm. Everything was going well up until I entered the abandoned shrine said to serve as a gateway at twilight. Apparently, one of the floorboards I stepped on had rotted through, and I tumbled down, smacking my head and losing consciousness in the process. Though I was lucky enough to have made it to the spirit realm, that fall could have easily been a fatal blow had Kaori not shown up and saved me. If it weren’t for her, I’d probably have ended up as dinner.

“Suimei!” she called.

I rushed to get dressed. My headache finally began to subside as I shucked my oversized sleeping yukata. Small miracles. I threw on clothes and headed down the creaking stairs to find a familiar face waiting in the living room.

“Well, well, good morning, Suimei-chan,” Noname cooed. “I made breakfast, but why don’t you go on and wash your face first?”

At first glance, I felt like I was looking at an ageless fellow with matchless feminine charm… This was Noname, the apothecary, greeting me in an egregiously frilly white apron. My headache abruptly returned.

While I massaged my temples, Shinonome called out to me without looking up. “Sorry for the unsightly display this early in the morning, Suimei.”

Shinonome might have pulled off the air of a distinguished, graying gentleman were it not for the unkempt facial hair. The horns didn’t help either. Any second now, Kaori would kick off her morning routine of complaining about his negligent hygiene.

“How rude,” Noname said. “Please pardon the dimwit.”

“Oh, shut up. Haven’t I told you to throw that apron out?” Shinonome muttered.

“But it suits me, doesn’t it? Right, Kaori?” Noname said.

Kaori, her mouth full, offered a thumbs up. “This fried egg is amazing,” she said when she could. “It’s the perfect runniness—makes it so soft and gooey. Then there’s the fresh green onions with just a touch of salt…ah, and the rice!”

“Aww, Kaori likes my cooking!” Noname said. “That wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, but I’m happy all the same. Do you want more?”

“Hmm…maybe just a little.” Kaori shyly pushed her empty bowl over for seconds.

This was the person who was, technically, my savior. Muramoto Kaori, a human girl with a brown bob, had ended up in the spirit realm by accident when she was a child and eventually saved me when I flailed my way into this realm as well.

I mumbled a greeting and headed to the well in the backyard, where I cranked up a wooden bucket full of cold water to wash my face. The humidity and heat of the past few nights had consistently left me sweaty when I woke up. Even worse, I’d just woken up from a nightmare and as a consequence was especially sticky.

I soaked a towel in the water before washing my face and body. It left me feeling refreshed and human again.

When I raised my face, I took in the everyday life of the spirit realm. It still looked nothing like I expected. The sky wasn’t the typical clear blue but rather the hue shifted the longer I watched, leaving me with an uneasy feeling. Off in the distance, humanoid figures flew through the air. Human souls ascending? Then, when I looked past the fence, I saw a woman with an unusually elongated waist peeping into someone’s house. Our eyes met, and I nodded before quickly averting my gaze.

“What was that about?” I muttered to myself.

My heart raced. I had to take several long breaths to calm myself. It seemed I still wasn’t quite used to life here.

Ever since I was young, my elders had always warned me to never enter the spirit realm. It was full of terrifying spirits who would chew up any human who happened to stumble into their domain. Though this world certainly did have its surprises, I wondered what my elders would think if they saw how the spirits here went about their daily lives just like humans.

“Your food’s gonna get cold if you don’t hurry up, Suimei,” Kaori called.

“Right.”

I made my way back to the living room and took my place at the table. Today’s breakfast was rice, Japanese-style fried eggs, broiled fish with pickled radish, miso soup with seaweed, and tea. Pretty much a traditional spread.

“I roasted up some small sausages just for you, Suimei-chan,” Noname said to me. “You’re a growing boy, so eat up.”

She piled the sausages up next to the fish, eliciting a wide-eyed look from Shinonome.

“What?! Why only him?” Shinonome protested. “I don’t need your stupid fish. Give me the sausages.”

“I gave you one, didn’t I, love? So shut your trap!”

“Am I not a growing boy too?!”

“With a face like that?”

“Shinonome-san loves meat more than anything,” Kaori stage-whispered to me.

I grabbed my chopsticks, put my hands together, and blessed the food under my breath while they went on bantering.

I sipped the soup first. Seaweed floated in a base of boiled-down fish stock and miso. Though nothing really stood out about it, the soup radiated a gentle warmth that seeped through to my core, slowly waking me up. Back when I’d lived at home, we’d had a top-tier chef to prepare our food, so I was used to more extravagant meals. Still, for something so simple, it tasted incredible.

“So how is it, Suimei-chan?” Noname asked.

All eyes were on me. I looked down at the table and mumbled my response. “It’s not bad.”

Everyone’s face lit up. I studied the table even harder, trying to hide my embarrassment. What was this strange feeling? I felt like something was swirling around deep inside me, warming me to the depths of my belly. There was something there, something I’d never known before.

I gazed to my side and felt a pang. Right. My companion still wasn’t with me. For the rest of the morning, I couldn’t quite shake that feeling of mingled loss and warmth.

“Hmm…rain.”

Kaori’s voice broke me out of my musing. The storms had abated somewhat as we exited the rainy season, or so I’d hoped. Just then, a downpour erupted. It mingled with the humidity to create a muggy, uncomfortable haze of damp heat. The unpaved road outside quickly turned into a slurry of mud that I could smell even from the table.

Apparently, spirits also didn’t much care for the rain, because barely anyone came to the shop that day. It was my turn to watch over the shop. Under any normal circumstances, I could have used the lull to go search for my friend, but Kaori stopped me, explaining that I’d stick out like a sore thumb. If I wanted to go anywhere, I needed an escort.

However, the only person I could ask to come with me was Kaori herself, and she’d gone off to work along with Nyaa. She wouldn’t be back until lunch.

I sighed.

The smell of old paper and the glow of glimmerflies wafted through the empty bookstore. I still wondered how this place worked. The shelves were all so tall that I couldn’t even see their tops, which didn’t match up at all with the exterior. Somewhere above this room lay the guest room that I was sleeping in, but it was hard to believe that from looking upward.

Here was a world where you were never far from hell, one in which the human world’s laws of physics were completely useless. In my boredom, I yearned to grab a ladder and try to scale one of these massive shelves, but it was just raw curiosity. Instead, I found some rare, old books bound in the traditional Japanese style: among them, the first part of Toriyama Sekien’s The Illustrated Demon Horde’s Night Parade. Though probably a copy, the book featured illustrations of various spirits. It had first been published in the fifth year of the An’ei era, 1776.

I flipped through the pages, wondering if spirits actually found some joy in looking through this book ostensibly about them. Or maybe they thought it was cute, or even quaint.

“Not a chance,” I mumbled.

That was too ridiculous to dwell on. I returned the book and searched for another. From what I’d heard, this bookstore housed countless invaluable tomes. It even drew the curiosity of human researchers from time to time. Though the spirit realm and human world seemed irreconcilable, they were more closely intertwined than you might guess at first. Even as an exorcist, I hadn’t quite appreciated the depth of the connection.

My mind was wandering. Too much free time.

The ceaseless rain left me depressed. I sat down and threw my legs forward. A glance into the main house revealed Shinonome struggling with a manuscript, smoke rising from his pipe. From what I’d been told, Shinonome had compiled quite a collection of stories from spirits over the years. Apparently, a number of enthusiasts out there were eager to buy these tales. He spent a lot of his downtime writing, claiming that it would one day add to the household budget.

“Gaah, damnable writer’s block.” Shinonome crumpled up a paper and tossed it away before starting again.

Despite knowing he’d saved Kaori, I knew surprisingly little about this elusive man. Judging by the horns protruding from his forehead and the scales on his cheeks, I suspected his human form was a ruse. I’d once asked him what he really was, but he had evaded the question and told me an exorcist should already know.

“Augh! I give up, I’m going to sleep!” Well, at least the way he squirmed around on the tatami floor reminded me of any other middle-aged human man. Obviously, I couldn’t ask this guy to escort me around town. I hardly knew him, and I also didn’t do well with father figures.

“I’m sure it can’t be too bad if I stay close by,” I murmured.

I turned to make my escape but regretted it when a baby the size of a small mountain lumbered in, drooling everywhere and blocking my exit.

“Human…smell good. Eat okay?” the baby said.

I fled to the back of the store. Ducking behind a bookshelf, I eyed the spirit as it wandered around for a bit before leaving. Only then did I breathe a sigh of relief.

I wiped the sweat from my forehead. As I relaxed, something caught my attention high up in the bookshelves. It moved like a spider, but upon closer inspection, I noticed its human face.

“Well, hello there, human,” it said. “Have a moment?”

I swallowed hard and edged away from the spider. It skittered along, disappearing into a gap between the books. Okay, I was definitely not going out alone now. Instead, I found a feather duster and resigned myself to my duties around the store.

Plish. Plosh.

Raindrops pinged overhead as I dusted the books. I’d always loved the sound. The drumming of the raindrops echoed inside me, a soothing beat.

At length, the rain finally began to taper off. The perpetual darkness glowed just a little brighter, and two familiar faces approached the bookstore.

“Oh, there you are,” Ginme called.

“Morning!” Kinme echoed.

The twin raven Tengu boys closed their red umbrellas and grinned at me. They stepped inside and immediately found chairs for themselves. It was clear they had business with me and not Shinonome.

“What brings you here? Looking for a book?” I asked.

The boys exchanged a meaningful glance, and Kinme ducked a hand into his pocket. I tensed, but Kinme merely produced an amanatsu orange. About twice the size of a winter tangerine, the fruit shone like the sun itself boiled and condensed down to this tiny treat. The refreshing scent tickled my nose.

“You see, Kaori reached out to us,” Kinme said. “She was worried about you.”

“We’re good at finding lost things,” Ginme said. “I mean, we can fly and have good eyes. Assuming there’s good weather, of course.”

I glanced outside. Though it’d eased a bit, the rain still beat down steadily. They’d get completely soaked if they tried to take off in this weather.

Kinme shrugged. “Basically, we’re really of no use today. But I figured you must be bored too, right? So we came over to help you kill time.”

Kinme split the orange in two, his nails tearing into the thin skin. The sweet and sour aroma of the fruit filled the room.

“Are you two stupid?” I asked. “I’m an exorcist. Leave me alone.”

Exorcists and spirits were like hunters and their prey. The bloody, filth-choked chasm between us could not be crossed with mere fruit.

Or at least, that’s how it should’ve been.

Ginme gobbled down a piece of fruit and cackled. “Yeah, we talked about this, didn’t we? I don’t mind. Besides, humans aren’t the only ones who hunt spirits, so who cares? Anyway, this is pretty awesome. You should eat up.”

How could they just overlook something like that? No matter how I tried to explain why we shouldn’t get close, they just shrugged and insisted.

“Oh, by the way, apparently Tsuchigumo’s gotten hungry,” said Kinme. “It came down from the mountains and feasted on some of the Nue kids. Man, it’s caused a real uproar. The Nue have all banded together and sworn to kill whoever was responsible. It’s a mess, but bloody conflicts like this aren’t actually all that uncommon.”

“Are they that frequent?” I asked.

“Yup.” Kinme popped another piece of fruit into his mouth. “I mean, who wouldn’t get mad about someone harming people they care about? Humans and spirits are no different in that regard. Sure, there may be some spirits out there who have a grudge against humans at large, but most just want to live and let live. The kinds of spirits you hunted stepped outside those lines.”

The light glinted coldly off Kinme’s golden irises. “For example, if you did something to harm Kaori or Ginme I’d rip out those beautiful eyes of yours and feast on your bones.”

Kinme seemed to loom up, even while smiling. His pupils narrowed. A chill emanated from his body, pushing away the humidity from the storm. An answering shiver tickled up my spine.

He was talking about killing me.

The back of my throat tingled as I recalled the days when I’d risked my life to fight spirits. The longer he stared, the thicker the tension in the room became. I held Kinme’s gaze, all the while feeling as if a hand were squeezing my heart and lungs. Finally, I broke eye contact, but something nipped at my throat.

Then they both pounced.

The twins pulled me into a close embrace, chattering over each other in their excitement.

“Hey, no need to be scared!”

“It won’t hurt at all, no worries!”

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” I yelped, much louder than I expected. I cursed myself for falling for their little game, but they didn’t let me wallow in self-loathing.

“Man, Suimei, that was great!” Ginme cheered.

“You’ve got perfect comedic timing,” Kinme seconded.

Well, at least they seemed to be in a good mood today. They slapped at my shoulders, sometimes hitting places on my body that hadn’t quite healed yet.

“Hey, cut it out, you idiots!” My yelling only made them laugh harder.

“Man, this kid is comedy gold.” Ginme grinned.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” I howled.

The twins hugged their middles and nearly doubled over in laughter. I struggled to comprehend it all. Moments ago, they’d been talking about killing me; now they were laughing riotously. These huge, strong spirits treating me like their best friend had the power to break me any time they liked. Just what was going on here?

While I was getting more and more annoyed, Ginme wiped a tear away from his eye. “All right, all right, we’re not gonna eat you. Of course we wouldn’t. Maybe just a little taste is all.”

“A little taste?!”

“Just a nip is fine, right? You’ll hardly miss it,” Kinme said.

“I’m pretty sure I would miss any part of me you decided to eat…”

Ginme cackled before mussing my hair. I slapped his hand away and fixed him with a glare, though he returned my gaze with a disarming smile.

“You, Noname, Kaori…everyone in the spirit realm seems oblivious to personal boundaries,” I muttered.

The twins looked at one another and smirked.

“I mean, you’re a fun guy. Of course we want to hang out with you,” Ginme said.

“Besides, we need someone who can keep up with us in the teasing department,” Kinme said. “Kaori just isn’t able to follow along, you know?”

“Listen, I’m not your straight man,” I said.

“But you are, aren’t you?” Kinme asked.

I exhaled a sigh of profound annoyance. They’d barely been here five minutes and already I was exhausted.

From one breath to the next, I’d gone from terror to shock to annoyance—just way too many emotions in rapid succession. No matter how I tried to control myself, I struggled around Ginme and Kinme. And while no one here would criticize my lack of control, it still grated on me. What did it even matter out here, though? Even I knew it wasn’t strictly necessary.

One of the best things about you, Master, is your sensitivity. My companion’s voice rang in my mind. Whenever I failed and got locked away in the cell, he’d rubbed his soft body against me while saying those words. They just don’t really understand you, Master.

I believed him. I’d caused all sorts of problems for the Shirai elders as they tried to teach me to rid myself of my emotions. Yet I smiled at the memory of my companion’s gentle encouragement. Outside of my mother, he was the only one who’d ever praised or comforted me.

I blinked back to the present to find the twins smirking at me. “What?”

“Nooooothiiiiiiing,” they said. And just like that, they snatched up their umbrellas and left.

“You really should smile more,” Ginme called back over his shoulder.

“Later, Suimei,” Kinme echoed.

After only a few steps, Ginme skidded to a stop. “Oh, I forgot.” He returned and whispered in my ear, eyeing Kinme the whole time: “Do you…do you like Kaori?”

“Huh?” I was too stunned for words, but Ginme pressed on.

“I mean, she’s cute and all, and I get that you’d be drawn to her,” he said. “But I want you to know that I fell for her first, so don’t get any ideas.”

“What? No, wait…” The morning’s headache attempted to return. Why would I fall for such a childish woman who couldn’t even act her age? “Spare me the jokes. There’s nothing about her I find attractive.”

Ginme cocked his head in complete confusion, but he smiled broadly all the same. “You idiot, she’s an incredible woman. There’s no one else like her.”

“I just don’t get you.” I shook my head as I watched the twins leave. When I returned to the store, I noticed I was still holding half of the split amanatsu, so I nibbled on it. The juice burst in my mouth, delivering a perfect balance of sweetness and sourness as it melted away my fatigue, at least for the moment.

 

***

“I’m hooome!”

I must have lost track of time daydreaming because I hadn’t anticipated Kaori’s return at all. The moment she crossed the threshold, the glimmerflies that had followed her in a cluster scattered to escape the incense wafting through the house. Nyaa brushed past my leg on her way to the living room.

“I’ll make lunch real quick, okay?” Kaori set down her shopping bag and made to head for the kitchen, but she froze the moment she looked outside.

I followed her gaze. The rain had stopped, and the clouds blanketing the sky had untangled. A puddle in the street reflected the strange colors of the constant night. Two small shadows interrupted the peaceful scene.

“Let’s plaaaaaaay!” they sang.

The moment the rain let up, customers had arrived. Of course.

The two young children waited for us, giggling together under the clear sky. One, a little girl with long hair, wore a lightweight white yukata with a morning glory pattern of reds, blues and purples. The white fabric stood out sharply against the dark backdrop of the spirit realm.

Her companion was a boy with short-cropped hair. He wore a navy-blue yukata with a light blue belt. The contrast between his dark clothes and pale skin made him look as white as snow.

“Here it is! Here! I’m positive,” the girl said.

“We want to read a book. Please loan us a book,” the boy said.

The children spoke in a singsong before giggling and running into the store. Their wooden sandals with red threaded straps clacked on the road, the sound muffling when they stepped into a puddle. Their splashing disrupted the serenity of the sky reflected in the water.

Kaori shrank back. It was a strange reaction for her, considering she greeted nearly every spirit who visited with a warm smile.

I tilted my head in curiosity. “What is it, Kaori?”

Kaori hurriedly forced a smile. “Nothing. Anyway, we have customers. I need to get going.”

She stepped forward to greet our new guests. Did I imagine that tremor in her hands?

Somewhere farther back in the store, Shinonome rolled over, muttering to himself. “Huh, is it that time already?”

With that, he passed out again, splayed out across the tatami flooring.

Just as I was about to demand some sort of explanation for all this, Kaori called out that lunch was ready. “Here you are, some mitarashi dango rice dumplings,” she said. “Would you like one?”

“Thanks, lady!” the boy cried.

Kaori had purchased these dumplings, drenched in glossy, amber-colored sauce, as a snack. A special type of flour kept them from hardening even when cold, allowing you to soak them in the chilled sauce before eating them. With the rain ratcheting up the heat and humidity, a cool mitarashi dango really hit the spot.

“Mmm, yummy!” said the girl.

The boy and girl introduced themselves as Sasuke and Hatsu respectively. Each poked a dumpling with a toothpick, rolled it in the sauce, and took a bite. Their cheeks went pink the moment they chomped down.

“Mm, this is yummy, right, Hatsu?”

“I love it, Sasuke!”

“No worries, there’s more,” Kaori smiled at the children as they munched on their treats.

And yet… I couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but something about Kaori was off. She looked no different from usual. Her complexion was pale, sure, but it always was—likely due to living in the spirit realm and having been away from the sun for so long.

However, even in the short time I’d known her, I’d never seen her quite so reserved. She tended to wear her emotions on her sleeve, which was perhaps why I had initially believed she was a high school student. To be honest, I still regarded her claims of being an adult with skepticism.

But she looked a bit more her age as she wiped at the children’s sticky mouths. Now that I thought about it, she’d been looking after Goblin when we first met. Maybe she liked kids?

“She’s an incredible woman. There’s no one else like her.”

Ginme’s words echoed in my head. Heh—I guess the way she takes care of people could be attractive if you saw her that way.

I kept mulling this over until she turned and caught me staring. I froze. Her face reminded me exactly of one I’d seen before.

“Did you have one, Suimei?” she asked. “Noppera-bo’s place only makes these for summer. They taste great when they’re still chilled.” The moment she mentioned the snacks, her face returned to its normal youthful exuberance. “Huh? What’s wrong, Suimei?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

She seemed to swap back and forth between childish and mature on a whim. Pretty impressive. I hid my concern by grabbing a dumpling. The aroma of the soy sauce mixed with the sweetness of the honey as I took a bite. I washed it all down with a sip of hot tea. Someone tugged on my sleeve. It was the little girl, Hatsu.

“Hey, do you still want that? You don’t need it, right?” Hatsu was still munching away at her own dumpling as she stared at the one in front of me. Her plate was already clear. It was obvious what she wanted.

“Hey, um…” Pink tinged Hatsu’s cheeks, almost as if she were embarrassed to even be asking. As she stood there entreating me, I noticed for the first time the clear, insect-like wings that rested on her back. She puffed out her cheeks with impatience. “Can I have it?”

I sighed and offered up the plate. “You can have it.”

“Thank you, Mister! You’re great!” She kissed my cheek and, now armed with her spoils, made her way back to Sasuke’s side.

“Eww, pretending to be precocious, huh?” he sniggered.

“Oh, shush,” she sniffed.

These spirit children didn’t seem to have a care in the world. I just focused on my tea to hide my annoyance.

“Thank yooooou!” they sang.

Once they were done eating, the boy pulled out something wrapped in a bamboo leaf. He undid the grass tie and set out the contents of the package atop the table. A small yellow stone. That was it.

“We’d like to pay with this,” he said. “Will this get us a book?”

The stone, a chunk of amber resin that had been petrified many years ago, gleamed like fine champagne. The light reflecting within it from the glow of the glimmerflies turned it into a shimmering jewel.

Kaori brought it over to Shinonome, who held it up to his eye before offering an approving nod. Kaori turned to Sasuke and smiled. “Yes, this’ll do. Please pick out what you’d like from our haunted bookstore!”

I cocked my head at Kaori again. Her slightly narrowed eyes, the raised corners of her mouth. Technically, it counted as a smile. But something about it was off, and I couldn’t ignore it.

From that day on, things got busier at the bookstore.

Kaori mostly left the store in Shinonome’s hands. For herself, she started using any available time between her shifts and her part-time job to go somewhere in the spirit realm. I wasn’t sure exactly where. Plus, I was busy helping out at the store alongside Nyaa.

One day, I wrapped a book in a cloth and secured it to Nyaa. After that, we set out with Kaori, heading toward a small forest a ways outside of town. For a world of everlasting night, the forest felt bright. Something hung overhead in the sky, almost like the sun. It cast a strong light, illuminating the forest below.

I peered up. “Huh, so there are places like this even in the world of endless night?”

“This place is illuminated only in summer,” Nyaa explained. “In autumn it reverts to dawn, and in winter it’s covered in snow and darkness. Once spring rolls around, it’s in a constant state of sunrise. This place is like a cradle for forest-dwelling spirits.”

“What do you mean ‘cradle’?”

“The people here change with the forest,” Nyaa said. “It’s a bit different from anywhere else in the spirit realm, where people tend to prefer stagnation or slow, calculated changes.”

I didn’t quite understand. Time worked strangely here, apparently. All I could do was listen and soak it in. It certainly felt like a real forest. Leaves scented the air, basking in the strange sunlight. The earth beneath our feet exhaled freshness with each step. The wind weaving between the trees caressed my cheek.

It was the closest I’d felt to a typical human summer since coming to the spirit realm. There were even cicadas buzzing in the distance. The forest brimmed with color and life, bright and vibrant and green.

“And we’re here,” Kaori said.

After a bit of a walk, we came across Hatsu and Sasuke’s home.

The old hut sat wedged between towering trees. Time had stripped away the doors and much of the roof. The floor looked rotten. Was this place actually in livable condition? The interior certainly didn’t appear lived in. Perhaps the children didn’t actually stay here.

Kaori walked into the ramshackle hut, where the children greeted her.

“Hey, read us another book,” Hatsu called.

“I can’t read this kanji. Can you tell me what it means?” Sasuke asked.

“Sure, sure, but you two need to take turns,” Kaori said.

“Okay!” the children chimed in unison.

Kaori patiently looked after them, almost like an older sister. In addition to the book they’d borrowed, they also had another that they wanted to read together. However, they struggled with the kanji and enlisted Kaori’s help working through them.

“Read this one next. This one,” Hatsu said.

“All right. Long, long ago…” Kaori started.

At first glance, they looked like great friends. Yet something churned in my chest—that uneasy feeling I’d had before. Kaori, flanked by the excited children, was smiling…yet she also wasn’t. I searched for Nyaa. If anyone could read Kaori, it was her.

“What?” Nyaa grumbled. “It’s hot out here, let’s go in.”

“I…” I froze before I even began. My elders and my mother shouted in my head not to get involved, not to let my emotions get the best of me. I dragged in several deep breaths before I finally steadied myself and shoved the screaming aside.

I had to know what was going on here. Kaori’s smile wasn’t right. It wasn’t her. I couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong it looked.

“Hey, cat. Why isn’t Kaori smiling?” I choked out.

“Huh?” Nyaa’s eyes flew wide with surprise. Then she sighed in resignation. “You’re right, she’s not smiling. I don’t know much about human emotions and even less about their expressions—I’m just a cat, after all—but I can still tell. A gut instinct, if you will. Maybe I overlooked it because she isn’t crying, like she used to as a kid. Pretty careless, I guess.”

So there was more going on here.

The black cat pawed at the ground, pacing back and forth. All the while, she stared at me with her mismatched eyes, one gold and one sky-blue. “We met those kids about three days ago. Suimei, watch over Kaori for me. Maybe we missed it, but you didn’t.”

“What are you talking about?”

Nyaa’s three tails flicked. “The height of summer is quite short.”

The cicadas buzzed in sudden, abrasive unison.

In summer, with each passing day, the cicadas buzz louder and louder while the afternoon heat grows more and more intense. Although the rainy season had ended and the summer had begun in earnest even in the spirit realm, they didn’t suffer the sweltering heat I was accustomed to in Tokyo—largely due to the simple fact that no sun hung in the spirits’ sky.

That wasn’t the case at Hatsu and Sasuke’s forest home. Here, the sun beat down with a vengeance, the hot summer breeze whipped past our cheeks, and the high humidity pressed every last bead of sweat from our bodies. Reading books out here without the benefit of air-conditioning left us utterly exhausted.

At least Hatsu and Sasuke were enjoying themselves. They crowded around the book, craning to look closer every time Kaori flipped a page, talking excitedly about what was on it. Though they sometimes descended into squabbling, I couldn’t help but be charmed.

“Amazing!” Sasuke crowed. “Being able to fly just with a fart?! I wonder if I can fly too.”

Hatsu giggled. “I bet you can. Just eat a bunch of potatoes and you’ll be blasting off.”

“I’m gonna try it.”

“Whoa, wait up, Sasuke,” Kaori chided. “Keep your clothes on. You can’t fly just by farting.”

The children giggled as Kaori attempted to wrangle them.

“Hey, can you fly by farting, Uncle?” Sasuke asked, turning to me.

“No, I can’t. And I’m not an uncle, either,” I said.

“Huh. Boooooring,” Sasuke sniffed.

“Besides, can’t you fly with those wings on your back?” I asked.

“Oh! Right!” The children’s laughter echoed through the ruined hut. At least they were in a good mood.

Yet all day long, Kaori’s eerie not-smile never changed.

Eventually, even the rambunctious spirits ran out of steam and settled down for a nap. Kaori finally got a chance to rest as Nyaa laid a thin blanket over the sleeping children before curling up under it with them. Kaori sat back with more mitarashi dango that she had brought with us in a water bottle. We enjoyed them topped with a generous heap of ginger as she occasionally glanced fondly over at Hatsu and Sasuke.

“Thanks for joining me, both of you,” Kaori said to me.

“It’s nothing,” I assured her. “I’m staying in your home, after all.”

I sat next to Kaori with my share of the snack. The spiciness of the ginger clashed pleasantly with the sweetness of the sauce. Warmth spread through my body. We sat in comfortable silence only broken by the clink of ice and rustle of leaves. I’d never seen Kaori so quiet and sedate, but it was nice.

I set my empty cup on the ground and finally asked the question that had been burning in my mind all day. “So what happened?”

“Huh?” Kaori blinked several times. “You…you’re surprisingly good at reading people.”

“Surprisingly? That’s kinda rude.”

Kaori giggled and smiled as she looked at the sleeping children, patting their heads. She moved so gently, as though Hatsu and Sasuke could break at the slightest touch. “This is the first time I’ve seen them in ten years.”

“Huh?” I cocked my head to the side. They hardly looked that old, maybe five or six max. If Kaori hadn’t seen them in ten years, I guessed that meant they were some kind of spirit that didn’t age.

“Hmm, how should I explain it?” Kaori pursed her lips. “You see, I first met Hatsu and Sasuke when I was a kid. Nyaa and I had come to the forest to play. It was summer at the time, and really, really hot, and the cicadas were so loud it was unbelievable.”

I imagined Hatsu and Sasuke sitting there, all alone in the forest, when they spotted these newcomers tromping in to play. I could easily picture them inviting Kaori to join them.

“It felt like I had siblings.” Kaori took on a wistful tone as she continued. “I didn’t have any kids to play with at the time, since it was before Kinme and Ginme had taken on human forms. I was so happy to meet them. We lost track of time and played well into the night.”

For the next few days, the four spent all their free time playing together. Once Hatsu and Sasuke learned that Kaori lived in the store, they asked her to lend them some books.

“They said that if they read a lot of books and memorized the stories, it might help take the edge off their boredom,” Kaori said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said.

Kaori hesitated, staring off into the distance. However, her hand never once stopped stroking the sleeping children’s hair. “I loved the time we spent together,” she finally said. “We played a lot and read mountains of books. Every morning, I’d wait anxiously for them to arrive. Even though they were quite a bit younger than me, I was starved for friends.”

A hot summer breeze passed through the hut, sending Kaori’s hair fluttering about before sticking to her cheeks. Kaori tucked her hair back behind her ears and cast her gaze downward, her expression solemn. She suddenly looked much more mature than her age, her usual childlike wonder suppressed. It almost felt like she was giving up on something.

“One morning, after several days of rain, I was excited to see that the sun had finally come out,” she said. “I took Nyaa with me to the hut to go play. That’s when I found them, still and listless on the ground. I froze for a moment, mind reeling, before I screamed and ran over to them. The last thing they said to me was ‘Thank you.’”

Kaori hugged herself, hands shaking. Her face drained of color as she stared off into the distance, almost as if she were reliving the memory as she spoke. “The moment they stopped breathing, a heavy weight fell on me. Right before my eyes, I watched as the heat left their bodies and their faces paled before finally turning brown.”

“Kaori—” My voice came out harsher than I intended as I tried to stop her.

Kaori looked up, an indecipherable smile on her lips. “Ah, sorry…” She exhaled a deep breath and brushed her hand across Sasuke’s cheek. “I didn’t realize that these children were cicada spirits.”

“Cicada? There are cicada spirits too?”

“Well, not everything you need to know is written in a book. These children have the spirits of cicadas, which means that they also suffer the same fate as cicadas.” Kaori drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “As you know, cicadas have a short life span. Or, at least, it’s short once they reach adulthood and crawl up out of the earth. But if they stay underground after climbing out of their eggs, they can live for years and years. They have surprisingly long lives for insects.”

Suddenly, the buzzing of the cicadas stopped, as did the wind and the rustling of the leaves. It was an incredibly odd feeling to be surrounded by complete silence in the once busy forest. Deep down, a disconcerting feeling entered my heart, though I continued to focus on Kaori’s story.

“These kids are a fragment of the dream shared by all the cicadas lurking underground, bored to tears as they bide their time,” Kaori said. “Sasuke and Hatsu were born just like any other cicada, spending a long time in the soil before finally coming out of the ground. Once they reach the end of their lives, they die and are reborn, repeating the cycle over and over again.”

A spirit that was locked in a continuous cycle of living, dying, and living again.

I swallowed and finally asked the question that had been on my mind for a while. “But…why?”

Kaori simply shook her head. “I don’t know. One day, they were created, and that’s it. Lots of spirits are like that. I mean, it’s no easier a question to answer than why humans are born.”

That made sense, at least. In a way, humans also existed in a cycle of life and death. I nodded and waited for her to continue.

Kaori’s lip trembled with emotion. “Well, you know, we run a bookstore, and it’s our job to bring books to those who want to read them. So, any time someone asks for one, I deliver it. If my job can help bring these children peace, then I’ll gladly take it on with pride.”

“Kaori…”

The closer you are to someone’s death, the more it hurts you. To be honest, I didn’t understand why she was putting herself through this again—her memory alone had made my chest ache. I didn’t get it precisely because I had my own bitter memories of the agonies death brought. But in her own way, Kaori took pride in her work. I was an outsider to her life, and I really didn’t have the right to object.

You must be strong. My mother’s words echoed in my ears.

Kaori wiped at her tears and smiled that same awkward smile from earlier. “You know, it’s funny, these kids have the same bodies and names as last time, but I don’t think they remember me at all. Whenever I mention something that happened in the past, they don’t seem to recall it. But I know it’ll happen again. Our…separation.”

Why was she making herself suffer like this? I didn’t want to look at that odd, uncomfortable smile anymore.

“I’m an adult now,” she said, “so I’m sure I can handle it much better than I did last time. I know this might cause some trouble for you, Suimei, but I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t.”

I was cursing my own foolishness at this point. I’d thought Kaori was the same age as me. What had happened to the immature woman I’d first met? No. Kaori might have been a bit awkward, but she was more capable than most adults I’d ever met. She really was an incredible woman, one who could stand on her own two feet.

I really wished I could make her feel better. But how was I going to do that with my limited facility with people? And when I could hardly understand my own feelings? How could someone younger, with less life experience, offer any comfort in a situation like this? My mother’s sad expression flashed through my mind.

In my memory, I heard her words: Any time you feel lonely, or like you might lose control of yourself, just pull Inugami close and sleep.

I reached under the thin blanket that covered the resting children for the black cat napping beneath.

“Mreeeow?!”

I pressed the cat against Kaori’s chest and looked straight at the wide-eyed woman sitting across from me. “You must be tired,” I said. “Just hold her tight and take a rest. You’ll feel better afterward.”

“Where did that come from all of a sudden?” she said.

“Don’t worry about that. I know you’re pushing yourself. You need to take a break.” I reached out and pinched Nyaa’s nose as hard as I could as she continued to fuss.

“Hyaugh!”

“Hey, you’re her friend, aren’t you?” I asked. “Stop pretending you don’t know what’s going on and stick by her side.”

“Gah! When did you get so violent?” Nyaa bared her fangs at me. Still, she turned in Kaori’s arms, licked her cheek, and pressed her nose against Kaori’s. “What do you need from me, Kaori?”

“Nyaa-san?”

“I’m not really good at thinking too deeply about things,” Nyaa said. “As long as I can settle down for a nap in my favorite spot, that’s all I need. You know that. So if you don’t tell me what you want, I won’t know.”

Kaori smiled, really smiled, this time. “All right, then. Will you take a nap with me?”

“Sleeping is something I’m especially good at. Leave it to me.”

“Great.” Kaori rubbed her cheek against Nyaa’s before lying down right there and closing her eyes. She pulled another lightweight blanket over herself. “There’s a fan in my bag,” she said, pointing.

“Wait, what?” I blinked.

“Hey, it’s hot!” She smirked at me. Just like that, her usual mischievousness returned.

I shrugged, retrieved her fan from her bag, and dutifully fanned her.

“Perfect, just perfect.” Kaori’s eyes drooped closed. The cicadas resumed their chirping. The leaves stirred in the breeze, banishing that eerie silence. The wind was still hot, but somehow it felt lighter and less oppressive now.

At dusk, we all returned to the bookstore drenched in sweat, only to be greeted by an excited group waiting at the door.

“Hey, Kaori,” Shinonome called, “Noname made her special cold nagashi somen today. Eat up!”

“We’ve got a special seat just for you—at the best place to get noodles!” Ginme said. “Come try our special cushions just for customers. Oh, and mentsuyu too!”

“What about our condiments? Personally, I’d recommend the ginger. Of course, cucumbers and chili oil are also available,” Kinme chimed in.

“W-wait, what?” Kaori squeaked.

The three men hefted her up and carted her out to the backyard, where they set her on the porch with a bowl of mentsuyu dipping sauce. It all happened in a blink, but Shinonome was already out there waiting for her with a vat of somen noodles. He grinned broadly and thumped his chest.

“I know you’ve been depressed lately,” he said. “Anyway, you’ve always liked nagashi somen. Eat up and be merry.”

“But why all of a sudden…?” Kaori cast her gaze down at the bowl of mentsuyu.

Shinonome patted her head before crouching down and looking Kaori straight in the eyes. “If you’re having a tough time, just let me know. I’ll take your place.”

Kaori blinked a few times before bursting out in laughter. “Ah ha ha ha! No, it’s okay. I decided to do this, after all, so I want to see it through.”

“I see.” When she nodded, Shinonome tightened up his sash and fastened his sleeves back. He let out a powerful yell and set a bamboo cylinder with the top carved away down in front of the vat. “All right then, let’s eat up and put a smile back on that face. Ready? I’m sending the noodles down now!”

Ginme, sitting beside Kaori, had his chopsticks ready to go to grab the noodles that would slither down the length of bamboo. “Bring it!”

“Don’t go eating Kaori’s portion, Ginme,” Shinonome warned. “I’ll kick you right out.”

“No worries! Probably.”

“Gah, Kinme. Keep an eye on that idiot brother of yours.”

Kaori snickered as she watched the men yell among themselves and excitedly joined the group. “Hurry up, Shinonome-san! I’m starving.”

It was a relief to see Kaori back to her usual self.

Noname beckoned me over. “Hey, Suimei-chan. You get over here and join in too.”

A cool, gentle breeze blew through the spirit realm, bringing a smile to my face as I slid on some sandals and headed over to join the others.

 

***

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Noname asked.

Kaori nodded. “Yeah, I can do this.”

“Hmm, all right.” Noname handed her a packet. “This is incense. Be sure to add this into the fire. And that’s—are you sure you don’t want me to go?” Noname’s mouth twisted with worry as she handed Kaori a bouquet of flowers.

Shinonome watched the exchange at a distance. Though he held a full pipe, he wasn’t smoking at the moment, and his hand paused as he surveyed the scene.

“Really, this is fine,” Kaori insisted. “Thank you, Noname.”

Kaori took the large bouquet, smiled, and breathed deeply to enjoy the scent. Multiple layers of pure white chrysanthemums wet from the rain met her nose. Despite the rain, we had prepared to head for the forest again. Today was the day we would send off Hatsu and Sasuke.

Ten days had passed since we first met. The children had gradually grown weaker and weaker until they could no longer stand. Now, when we reached them, they lay prone in their futon, though Kaori never stopped reading to them. That was all they wanted. So, Kaori soldiered on, though she seemed more at peace with the process now.

“I’m going to wipe off some sweat, okay?” she said. “Do you need any water? No? Okay, I’m going to continue where we left off, then.”

Kaori’s soft voice filled the hut. She’d chosen a gentle story that day, but it had the children laughing as they lay there, which brought a smile to Kaori’s face. As for me, I kept my distance and tried to hide my dark mood.

How strong she had to be to watch over these children with such compassion as they died before her eyes, when they looked just like her old friends. No, it wasn’t strength. She’d struggled so much…until the day we ate nagashi somen in her backyard. Since then, she’d smiled more easily and sincerely, even on days when sadness lingered on her lips. What had changed?

A memory flashed in my mind—that of my mother hugging me and whispering that I needed to be strong. I swallowed down the pang that elicited and stepped forward to help Kaori.

The rain fell as fine as misty fog. The cicadas lay quiet around us. All that water made the verdant leaves more vibrant and drew a fresh, earthy scent out of the ground. The forest felt tense, still, like it was holding its breath in anticipation.

“Hey, Kaori…” Sasuke’s voice was dry and distant. “Bring Hatsu to me.”

Kaori and I shared a glance before I slid the girl’s futon next to her brother’s. Sasuke sighed in relief.

“We’re a pair, you know, so we have to stay together ’til the end,” he said.

“Sasuke…” Hatsu murmured.

“I’m so happy. Thank you.”

Sweat poured down their foreheads, and their faces contorted in pain, though they still managed to smile at one another.

Kaori tried to draw their attention. “What should I read?”

Sasuke muttered a title. “‘The Ants and the Grasshopper.’”

Kaori blinked with surprise before taking out a book. “Did you know that this story used to be about ants and cicadas?” she asked. “But as the story made its way to regions without cicadas, the grasshopper was used in its place.”

“Really? I guess it fits us pretty well, then.” Sasuke let out a long breath and closed his eyes.

For a moment, I thought it was over. However, upon closer inspection, I could see his chest still rising and falling faintly. Kaori’s face tensed. Nyaa wound around her ankles and mewed. Kaori’s expression softened as she stroked Nyaa. The cat settled in her lap as Kaori began to read “The Ants and the Grasshopper,” one of Aesop’s Fables.

While the ants worked hard during the summer months to store food, the grasshopper sang and played the violin, doing nothing to prepare for the harsh winter. When summer passed and winter arrived, the grasshopper found himself without any food. He asked the ants for help, but they replied, “You spent all summer singing, so perhaps you should spend the winter dancing,” before driving him out. The grasshopper later died.

The story was often altered so the ants shared their food and the grasshopper played the violin in gratitude. In those versions, the ants and the grasshopper ate together in a warm room filled with laughter.

Once Kaori finished, Sasuke murmured, “Humans are pretty interesting.” Then he shifted laboriously to face Hatsu, breaking out into a bright smile. “After a long period underground, we’ll climb out again and dedicate ourselves to finding our companion. Right, Hatsu?”

She smiled back at her brother. “Well, Sasuke. I came out of the ground to meet you.”

The two entwined their little hands and giggled.

Kaori and I exchanged glances. Just what were they talking about?

Sasuke closed his eyes and continued, voice gentle. “I’m sure the story is calling all of us spirits destined to die at the end of summer lazy. Grasshoppers, us. I guess people think that way. But we’re so desperate to leave something for the next generation that we don’t have time to think about ourselves.”

“Humans live far longer than we do,” Hatsu agreed. “Surviving the winter is an important ordeal. But we don’t have to worry about it. All we have to concern ourselves with is living summer to the fullest. Don’t you agree, Sasuke?”

Sasuke lowered his eyes and laughed wryly.

Sweat ran down their foreheads. Kaori grabbed a towel and wiped it away. Sasuke smiled and thanked her as he stared up at nothing.

“Back in the old days,” he said, “I didn’t need anything other than summer. I figured there was no use in knowing about anything beyond that. But it was boring. I was tired of simply waiting in the soil for that one summer to come. And then we met you, Kaori. You read us books and told us about all the other seasons. Through your stories, you showed us a different world. After that first summer, I enjoyed a completely new life before it all went pitch-black again. Even when we return to the soil, we’ll never get bored.”

Sasuke let out a long breath and closed his eyes. Hatsu gazed lovingly over at her brother and reached a quivering hand toward Kaori. Kaori squeezed the tiny hand, leaning close to hear each softly spoken word. “Kaori…” Hatsu whispered.

“Yes?”

“Thank you so much. Thank you for expanding our world. Thank you for sticking with us, even though it must have been painful for you. Like I said last time, I’m glad to have made such a kind friend.”

Last time?

Kaori’s eyes flew wide. A tear slipped out, trailing down her cheek. “You didn’t forget?”

“Of course not.”

More tears flowed from Kaori’s wide eyes, dripping off her chin.

“We spirits can connect feelings,” Hatsu said. “I don’t remember everything from the past, but I’ll never forget what’s important. I love you. All the feelings and memories of that love are still in my heart and my brother’s. Whenever we invited you to come out and play, you always smiled so brightly. I remember playing tag and splashing in the river. And, of course, reading a lot of books.”

Hatsu fell into a coughing fit and Kaori rubbed her back. She was pale by the time it subsided. “Kaori…”

“It’s okay,” Kaori said. “I understand. You don’t need to talk anymore.”

But Hatsu pushed on anyway in a voice that was little more than a wheezy rasp. “I’m sorry…for making you cry again.”

“Hatsu…” Sasuke, his eyes still closed, hugged his sister and whispered in her ear. “I’ll take over.” He smiled up at Kaori. “I can already see the dream.”

“Hm?” Kaori leaned in.

“Down in the soil, we’ll dream of the books you read us,” Sasuke said. “When the earth grows cold, we’ll know it’s winter. When it gets warm, we’ll know it’s spring. When it gets heavy with fallen leaves, that means it’s autumn. We’ll dream of playing in the forest in every season. And we won’t forget the taste of the mitarashi dango we ate together. We’ll also remember Suimei. These dreams will play through our minds over and over until the summer when we’re meant to awaken finally returns.” Sasuke looked up at Kaori. “When that day comes…do you want to play?”

Kaori clenched her jaw and nodded. Tears streaked down her cheeks and her nose ran. “Of course I do, my dear, dear friends.”

Sasuke’s eyes drooped closed. He smiled. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you last time, but this isn’t goodbye. My…our memory will pass on forever, and we’ll cross paths with you again. We just have a bit of a ways to go…so…so…” A tear rolled down his cheek.

“Let’s meet again,” Kaori promised.

The forest boomed as cicadas buzzed in unison. Outside the hut, the rain stopped and the sun burst through the canopy of trees.

“Sasuke? Hatsu?” Kaori murmured.

Sasuke and Hatsu were holding each other’s hands and smiling, as though they had just passed into a peaceful sleep. Sasuke’s last words lingered in the air, a promise that they would all meet again.

 

***

Nyaa helped dig a hole where we could lay Sasuke and Hatsu side by side in the earth. Kaori placed white chrysanthemum flowers atop the little graves while I burned the incense Noname had given us. Kaori stared at the ground with empty, dry eyes depleted of tears. I bowed my head and put my hands together in prayer.

“They’ll be back, you know,” Nyaa said. “Ten years is practically no time at all.”

Kaori didn’t respond.

“These things in the ground are mere shells of who they were,” Nyaa said. “There’s nothing important here, nothing to be sad about.”

Kaori just kept staring at the ground. Some strange feeling overtook me, and I walked abruptly over to her.

I faced Kaori straight on. She stood slightly taller than me, a fact I tried to ignore. Were I a bit older, this would have looked a lot cooler. I pulled Kaori into a rough embrace.

“Wha…?” Kaori stiffened, though she didn’t resist as I held her against me.

My heart pounded, my face burned, and my hands trembled uncontrollably. I could only hope that Kaori didn’t notice, though none of that mattered right now. I cleared my throat.

“Ten years is a long time, I know, even if it might seem like nothing to these spirits. Maybe these bodies are just shells, but to you, they were your friends, and ones that were important to you. There’s nothing wrong with being sad, with feeling lonely, with feeling pain at saying goodbye. Even if you know they’re coming back, it’s not that easy to let go. Spirits just can’t understand these things.” I squeezed her tightly and spoke into her ear. “Just let go and cry…dummy.”

Humans should be allowed to feel sad. Not that I, a person forced to suppress his own emotions, was in much of a position to say such things. I mumbled an apology and backed off. Maybe I had gotten through to her. Maybe I hadn’t. Hopefully someone around her could help.

Kaori quivered. “Is it really okay?”

What a stupid thing to ask. I wrapped her up in another impetuous hug and told her to do whatever felt best. She threw her arms around me and let out a wail. Around us, the cicadas still sang. The sun still beat down. The remnants of the rain still glistened on the leaves.

The forest echoed with the song of the cicadas, reverberating through the forest all summer long.

 

***

Deep down in the soil, curled up like a baby in the womb, we started to dream.

In our dreams, a little girl ran under the summer sun in a glimmering forest. She teased her feline companion before turning around and smiling innocently. “See you tomorrow! We’ll always be friends, okay?”

The girl waved until she was well out of sight. She faded away behind a curtain of rain. When the girl reappeared, she was crying.

The cicadas buzzed on.

The scene shifted, bringing a new summer.

Beneath the brilliant sunlight, the girl, now older, read a book to us. She stroked through my hair, sending a tingle down my spine. Hatsu and I requested more stories, and the girl shook her head and laughed, and then she indulged us until our day arrived and we had to depart.

Plish. Plosh.

Summer came again. Wooden sandals clacked as we approached the bookstore. A woman inspected our faces from behind the open door. She hugged us tightly around her protruding stomach.

Yet another summer came. We found an unknown child at the bookstore this time. When I asked if they wanted to play, they smiled, the expression oddly familiar.

Time passed. Like bubbles on a pond, more days floated by, disappearing as they popped. That once crying child was now completely calm. Though I loved her formerly plump and childlike hands, her thin, wrinkled hands felt just as nice in my hair.

Aaah…

A stream of light pierced the cold, dark earth as yet another summer arrived.

Another year where we could spend a whole new summer together with our friend.