fourteen

I held on to my smile throughout the melancholy of that remaining week. The mood had been lightened somewhat, but without Nozomi's typical low-key-pissed-off disposition or even the apparent frustration of being unable to ditch me, the air still felt a little too quiet. But I wasn't unhappy. With the sight of him walking to school each of those mornings, a portion of my heart was replenished, and I almost felt like a proud parent watching their child walk for the first time. I was able to focus on the positives.

The day of the festival had arrived like an overdue train, and with the hour of its beginning still a ways away, I would have to suffer the agonizing wait till it pulled into the terminal. It was a Friday; the last school day for the next three months had just come to an end, and I could already taste sand in my mouth regardless of being miles from the ocean. There was a river nearby, though, and coincidentally the festival would be located just beside it, as it had always been. These past several years, Atsushi, Sato, Tomoru and I had gone together, making a tradition of watching the fireworks by the dock-it wasn't that we were all necessarily fascinated with the mainstream color explosions, but somehow we all felt drawn to them, as though they served as a friendly little reminder to our often forgetful souls. And this year was special, for I would be bringing someone new to our gathering, into our family.

Nozomi Sena.

"Hey, Nozomi, would you be interested in wearing something traditional? You know, like a yukata? There's this affordable rental place near the festival's location. If you'll let me, I'd like to get one for you."

He had been responding a lot less lately, and by that I'm referring to any response at all, not merely the use of his voice. Ever since Tomoru had spoken to him at the beginning of the week, Nozomi had been appearing more troubled than usual. Honestly, I hadn't even thought that were possible, and believe me when I say that it hurt to be proven wrong. Reality certainly did have a powerful backhand, and it was at times like these I regretted never taking tennis lessons.

His father had given me permission; it wasn't as though I were running off to get married without the blessing of the head of the home. Nozomi hadn't argued. Nozomi hadn't shown opposition. Nozomi hadn't shown any emotion at all. He was running on an empty tank of fuel. According to Mr. Sena, he'd been eating regularly, so Nozomi's lackadaisical demeanor wasn't due to malnutrition. Sleep habits appeared to be normal, though, which wasn't a good sign. In fact, they were probably getting worse. It was depression, I told myself. The cruelest of life's repercussions.

Atsushi and the others agreed to meet me at the same spot, and by now they were all aware I would be bringing Nozomi with me-however, Atsushi, unlike Sato and Tomoru, knew absolutely nothing about the boy's visual impairment or backstory, let alone his appearance. Even at the gymnasium, he had only observed Nozomi's vague outline and perhaps received a glimpse of his honey blonde hair, but the hoodie Nozomi had been wearing that day concealed pretty much everything else. Atsushi loved surprises and, like me, strongly disliked gossip, though, unlike me, he had a knack for avoiding any drama that didn't concern him. I respected him for that. Most people are always itching to get hooked on a new story, a chapter in someone else's life that has absolutely nothing to do with them, but Atsushi knew where he belonged. If he were meant to discover something, he believed it would fall into his hands.

Most importantly, Atsushi was an open-minded person-Sato and Tomoru, too, and I was confident that the three of them would be able to welcome Nozomi naturally. Tomoru already seemed to have taken that step long before I was aware. He had paved the way for Nozomi, in a sense. And I couldn't thank him enough for that.

The hour was closing in on eight o'clock, and I, while pacing back and forth in the kitchen at my house, was preparing myself mentally for tonight. I had promised to pick Nozomi up at exactly 8:15, and by 8:45 the rest of my squad would be at the yukata rental place to join us. They lived a little further away from its location than I did, so it wasn't necessary for me to leave so early, but regardless…I wanted to. I wanted to have plenty of time to search the rental store and hunt down the perfect item for Nozomi; of course, I highly doubted he were the type who gave much thought to his outward appearance, what with being visually impaired and all, so this would simply be a tiny, selfish act of mine. I wished for him to blend in, both for his sake and my own. And the festivity of a traditional yukata was a flawless weapon.

The clock struck eight. I tore up the floorboards on my way to the door, hurling myself into the brisk air which accompanied the falling of evening, dim skies and wispy clouds, quiet streets and delicate wind that ran its fingers through my hair for but a moment. It was already beginning to smell like summer, but the spring-pun intended-in my step had not yet faltered. I could almost feel sparks shooting out from my heels, propelling me towards Nozomi as though both our lives depended on an early arrival. My mind was so caught up in the idea of quickening my pace, in fact, that I just nearly passed Nozomi's house. The sight of him sitting outside on his front steps was what stopped me.

I double-checked-no, triple-checked-my watch to reassure myself I hadn't missed my own deadline. Surely enough, I hadn't. I was five minutes early-8:10, on the nose-and yet still Nozomi appeared to be wearing an expression that made it seem like I'd kept him waiting a thousand years. I felt undeniable guilt. And I didn't know why.

"Nozomi, how long have you been waiting out here?"

Only at the sound of my voice did Nozomi register my presence, and a look of pure shock touched his face. He raised his hands simultaneously to pull from his ears a pair of white earphones, which he then tucked carefully into the large front pocket of his navy blue sweatjacket. The hood of said sweatjacket hung loosely at the boy's shoulders, but upon rising to his feet, Nozomi lifted it to cover the crown of his head.

"Nozomi-"

He started walking on his own. Without giving me the chance to latch onto his wrist, Nozomi took the liberty of making his way down the sidewalk, which not only upset me, but also confused me as to why he had bothered waiting for my arrival in the first place. Either way, he had agreed to go to the festival, which did please me. At the moment I was simply fretting over whether or not he would be able to enjoy himself. That was my primary goal for tonight.

It took exactly sixteen minutes for us to reach the rental shop on foot, setting our time at 8:26 p.m. and giving us an additional nineteen minutes before the others would arrive. Nineteen minutes was more than enough. The shop was virtually empty, save a happy couple who had just finished carrying out a purchase and were preparing to leave. Nozomi watched them walk out of the shop, his gaze lingering on their smiling faces until the very moment when he could see them no longer. He blinked his tired eyes and soon turned away.

"Nozomi, do you want to pick one for yourself?"

He shook his head solemnly from side to side.

"V-very well, then…"

Various racks of yukatas were set out in the small shop displaying what limited options it had to offer-some were too bright, too flashy and flamboyant, others weren't gender neutral and gave off too strong of a feminine vibe. But through several minutes of brief yet thorough searching, I came across two yukatas that seemed just right: one was a solid black color that came with a golden sash fastened at the waist, the other being a navy blue shade with black undertones, as well as a pale brown sash tied at a slightly lower height than the previous one.

"I'll take these two, thank you."

The generous old man who owned the shop recognized me immediately and flashed one of his signature smiles from behind the counter. By now he was accustomed to the sight of teenagers strolling into this place at the start of every summer, and it always seemed to lighten his mood to be reminded that "younger folk haven't lost interest in traditional clothing yet." His wife had passed on before him. For that reason, I was even gladder to be part of the cause for his happiness.

"C'mon, Nozomi, there are changing rooms here." I gave a gentle tug at his hand. "You can try one of these on. I'm sure you'll look great in it."

I guided him gingerly into one of the tiny enclosed rooms in the shop, while I hurried into the other. I was already dressed in light clothing, so all I would have to do was slip the yukata overtop of everything. It was designed to be loose-fitting around each of the hems, while the area towards the center had been made noticeably tighter, courtesy of the sash. It was comfortable, nonetheless, and certainly well-worth its cost. Once I had put on the article of clothing, I popped out of the dressing room and knocked lightly on the door of Nozomi's. I hadn't expected him to finish getting ready at a lightning-fast pace, but I still wanted him to know I would be waiting for him.

Suddenly I heard the inside lock emit a click, and slowly but surely the door to Nozomi's dressing room opened, and standing before me now was Nozomi 2.0, the limited edition, way-too-pure-and-polished-to-not-be-a-doll, traditional Japan version. It truly was astonishing how something so simple could completely transform a person and the visual aura they conveyed. Just a moment ago, the boy's hooded sweat jacket and high-top sneakers tied together a blatant lack of formality-which was totally okay, seeing as he was a teenager attending an event with basically zero formality. But now he was as unrealistically beautiful as the standards of professional modeling magazines.

"You're unfair, Nozomi."

He made a discontented face. I laughed under my breath.

"Oh, never mind. We should go."

Taking his hand gently in mine, I led Nozomi out of the shop and we continued on our journey to the festival's location, which was conveniently only a few blocks away, just beside one of the cleanest and most spectacular rivers in the entire country. Its scent added to the sweetness of the air, and with the gorgeous array of refreshment and entertainment stands steadily approaching my fingers' touch, my heart could already begin basking in the familiarity of one of youth's most innocent pleasures.

It was dangerous to run in a yukata. But I was far too eager to walk any longer.

A grin tugging at my lips, I held Nozomi's hand even tighter and began racing towards the newfound source of light and life, the area of bursting activity where blissful commotion set fire to an otherwise dull night. Banners of all colors streamed from stand to stand, lanterns and carefully guarded candles seeming to imitate the stars fading into the background, laughter coating any sliver of silence with a tender yet beautiful essence of contentment. It all…entranced me…so deeply that I completely forgot about my plans to meet the others back at the shop.

"Nozomi, check this out!!"

Grilled eel, somen noodles, green tea and rice, sushi, all cooking simultaneously, scents clashing in an oddly pleasant way. And of course, there were the sweets as well, but I was setting aside a completely separate stomach for that.

"Are you hungry? Nod for yes, shake your head for no."

He did nothing.

"Do you like noodles? Of course you do. You're Japanese. I'm getting us some noodles."

Even though I had made the decision in my head even before asking him, I felt the need to take in the entirety of Nozomi's expression as a means of approval, but instead of getting what I hoped for, all I received…was a look of pure misery and exhaustion. I'd been running him around too much, I thought instantly. He needed to rest.

So without hesitation I took a slight detour and pulled him over to the nearest vacant bench, five stands over from the somen noodles stand I had already set my eyes on. That's not too far away, I thought, though it was truthfully a fickle statement, and I feared leaving Nozomi alone for long.

It won't be long. I'm just making a quick purchase, then I'll be back for him.

"Wait here, Nozomi. I'll be right back."

Lady Luck smiled upon me and granted the existence of but a small line, just a few customers who were quick with their purchases, and before I knew it I was at the head of that line. Hastily rummaging through my satchel in search of my wallet, I spat out my order like a pre-recorded message, mindlessly, yet in a way that prevented confusion for the receiving ear. It took around two minutes for the noodles to finish cooking, as they had already been cooking before I arrived, and all the while I was jittering and mentally pacing whilst remaining preparations were carried out. My hands were outstretched even before the woman at the stand had presented my food, and I was long gone before she had the chance to utter, 'thank you for coming!'

It wasn't possible for me to follow a straight path to the bench, for numerous groups of visitors stood in the way, almost seeming to shuffle their movements purposely so as to intervene. I hurriedly buried the urge to use harsh words to hurry them along, and I could've sworn I lost ten years of my lifespan simply waiting for them to disperse.

By the time the path to the bench had at last cleared, I was appalled to find that Nozomi was gone.

My heart immediately spun into a panic, and all of a sudden I didn't care about shoving aside those whose fault it was not for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He couldn't have gotten far, another fickle voice in my head chimed, grasping at the strands of rationality that had just nearly escaped me. The cups of noodles were still in each of my hands-and luckily the woman at the stand had provided lids to inhibit spilling-but still they teetered back and forth with each slight turn my body made, the liquid inside sloshing around violently like boisterous ocean waters. If only my eyes could look in different directions at once, I thought, so that I could watch the noodle cups and scan the area for Nozomi simultaneously.

I soon found out that such a thing wasn't necessary-for I caught sight of him, sitting on the edge of the dock that lay peacefully behind the rows of refreshment and entertainment stands, at the perfect distance from where the fireworks would be set off. It puzzled me…why he had taken it upon himself to leave the bench and relocate to a much more…

…quieter place.

"Not a fan of crowds, thanks."

"Of course…"

Something tugged at my chest for a moment, and no matter how hard I tried to shake it off, I knew that I would never forget the way it felt. The sight of him sitting alone there on the dock…almost made me regret ever bringing him along.

"Hey…Nozomi…"

I lowered myself warily to the wooden boards beside him, draping my legs over the edge just as he'd been doing. Then I held out one of the noodle cups.

"Here. Somen noodles. Don't worry, I didn't spill any on my way here. Almost…but not quite." I gently pried my fingers underneath the lid and popped it off, watching with immense discouragement as it leapt out of my reach and landed softly on the surface of the river water. I let out an audible grunt whilst reluctantly bending over to retrieve it. The task required a bit of concentration, for I had to focus on holding on to my noodle cup and bending over the dock without falling in, which-when wearing a yukata-wasn't as easy as one might think. At the height these boards had been built, subtracting the length of my arms, my fingers could just barely brush against the tip of the plastic lid, but I feared that if I were to merely touch it, I would cause a ripple in the water that would carry the lid away.

"Just…a little…closer…ah! Nozomi, here, hold my noodles."

With his free hand Nozomi accepted the cup, clutching it tightly-but not too tightly-as I resumed my attempt to recover what I had so carelessly lost. A smirk was slapped across my face as I could feel my chances of success skyrocketing, now with an extended reach and a small, kindly wave of sorts beginning to push the lid in my direction. Closer and closer…and closer…

Splash!

I fell in-no, it wasn't that I fell. I had been pushed. By Nozomi. Face-first I tumbled clumsily into the river, barely managing to hold my breath before water had the chance to fill my mouth. My nostrils, however, did become slightly irritated by the sensation they received by not having been plugged in time. I wasn't under the water for long-a mere few seconds at most-and I could certainly swim, so my issue with the whole situation didn't lie there. It lay with whatever had compelled Nozomi to do what he did.

I hoisted myself back up onto the dock.

"Nozomi, what the heck was that for? There are signs that say 'no swimming in the river'. You're making me look like a criminal here."

I doubted he would actually respond; this silent treatment was excrutiating, and while I reminded myself I would simply have to deal with it, the longer it lasted, the more hopeless things seemed.

"I'm not mad…wipe that depressive look off your face." I cracked a smile and lifted my index finger to brush against the edge of his mouth. "The noodles are still okay. And for whatever reason you decided to shove me out of my comfort zone, I'm sure it was a good one. And I'm still breathing, so I have no excuse to be upset. Come to think of it, great way to start off summer break, huh? I'd consider pushing you in the river too, but you're holding our noodles."

A chuckle slipped out through my teeth into the night air and seemed to freeze, long before it was able to greet Nozomi's ears and assure him that the matter was of levity. I was only fooling around, yet he still wore an expression of great discomfort.

"N-Nozomi, I was kidding; I wasn't actually thinking about pushing you into the water, relax. Don't look so…glum…"

He wasn't convinced; either that, or he simply wasn't in the mood to endure any of my lame humor today. I held my breath again, along with my heart, and watched as Nozomi set both cups of noodles next to him, on his left side, where I couldn't reach. I don't think, though, that he did this out of spite. I believe he had done so to free his hands. He wanted to be able to hold something that wouldn't break from too much pressure. And so he clutched his clothing as though he planned to never let go.

"I don't…understand you…"

A timid whisper shattered some barrier and carried its dying body to me, laying itself in my cold, wet, dripping hands like a generous offering-a generous offering which I humbly accepted. I wanted him to speak more, I wanted so desperately for him to speak until his voice could regain light, until it could repair itself again. But instead of getting what I wanted, my ears were greeted with the regrettably familiar sound and sight of Nozomi crying. His hands moved up to his face and were pressed against it so as to conceal the trembling of his eyes and lips. But I could see the tears. He couldn't hide that from me.

"N-…Nozomi, why're you crying?"

He took me by surprise; doing so seemed to be his forte.

"Did I upset you…s-somehow? I mean, I don't really know what I said, but I'm sorry for whatever it was. You should know by now, I have difficulty with shutting myself up, a-and I'm kinda stupid-wait, no, I'm really stupid, but being stupid has its perks, ya know? Or maybe it doesn't. Anyway, are you okay? Need a hug? I can give y-"

"Why is that…no matter what I do…you always…run after me…?"

His words were fragments, and it truly did seem as though he were learning how to speak, growing increasingly frustrated with himself each time he stumbled.

"I don't understand…how you can possibly bring yourself to do something so…so unfulfilling. And it's exhausting, too, I can tell just by…just by looking at you. All I do is run away from you…I run away and treat you like crap…and yet…you're still here. Every time I look…you're here…"

The tears were staining his clothing. And though it were only in my imagination, I could feel them staining my own face. They were like drops of acid.

"Nozomi, I don't like it when you cry."

"You called me a good luck charm."

Bitterness and sorrow, blended together to form an emotion that sparked a fire, suspended mid-air, close enough to touch, but doing so would surely bring me harm. But I didn't care. I touched it anyway.

"Even now, I can't tell if you…were just saying that as a joke, but I can't get it out of my head. It's cruel, you know. I've lost sleep because of your stupid voice. You're an idiot…"

"Nozomi…" I struggled to swallow my breath. "I didn't mean it as a joke-"

"That's a lie!!" He cried, fingers digging into his own skin, so roughly that I feared he would begin to bleed. "I know you're not deaf, you've heard what they say…all that crap with the 'black cat family' and whatnot." He laughed just to spite himself. "You know all this…and yet you chose to call me the exact opposite…of what they all said I was…a good luck charm, a good luck charm, a good luck charm…I'm not a good luck charm, I'm a bitter and tired black cat who has nothing left to offer but negativity, a pissy attitude, and no regard for others…"

Finally, he had to stop to catch his breath. I had a feeling he would continue before long, and I wanted to have a word before he sank any deeper into his river of tears.

"Please tell me…you don't believe that…"

I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face, the weak and trembling hands that were just about ready to give up their positions as shields; the moment I touched them, they fell. But he hadn't stopped crying simply because the shields were gone.

"Nozomi, you'll always be my good luck charm."

What was left of the invisible dams burst, and nothing was holding him back from releasing every last bit of what he'd been repressing for so long. I thought about draping my arm around his shoulders, but soon came to the conclusion that holding his hands would be enough-I was already doing that, anyway. So I gave them a firm squeeze and smiled at him, wishing and hoping with all of my being that he would look my way.

And he did.

"This may sound really cheesy," I began in a soft voice, though just loud enough to be heard over the distant, chattering crowds, "but I'm gonna say it anyway, because…well, it's important. You're important, Nozomi. To me. It started out as just curiosity, but on that second day…the second day I spoke to you, I mean…something started to develop. You fixed a part of me I had never thought was broken. You, of all people, Nozomi, showed me how to open my eyes. Despite all your efforts to push me away, I found myself…still wanting to come back. Being around you felt so natural…and it made me remember something my mother told me. She said that an individual's purpose in life isn't always necessarily connected to 'saving the world', if you will…someone could be put on this earth solely for the purpose…of setting aflame the candle in another person's heart. And I couldn't help but think that maybe…I had found that candle I'm supposed to light."

I was so tempted to plant a kiss on Nozomi's fingers; my own hands began to quiver.

"I've come to realize a great number of things because of you, Nozomi, starting with the fact…that I want to be something to you. After seeing the way you broke down after what happened to Naoki, I knew that I wanted to be…someone you could rely on. I've said something similar to you in the past…how if you think about it, you only ever need one person, one person who will stand by your side no matter what you do, no matter what you say or where you go. Having lots of friends may seem nice, but it's not necessary to make someone happy. All you need…is one person. Just one…who will listen to you. One person…who will look after you…and accept you for who you are. One person…who will love you…"

I placed that risky kiss on his fingers and waited for my heartbeat to slow down. But all it did was pick up the pace and scream, 'look into his eyes again.' I did. And not a moment before my own eyes began to well.

"Can I be that person?"

It took time. It took time for it to register, for him to indulge in everything I had just laid before him, for his mind, heart, body, and soul to come to an agreement, one that would mark the first chapter of the greatest days of my life.

He nodded-such a simple gesture, followed by the sensation of his arms wrapping around me, holding me like a flame to the wick of a candle. It lifted such a great burden off my shoulders, and the relief that rushed through my entire body felt like a flood, drowning out the last of my doubts and fears, leaving in their place tears.

Yes, I cried. But these weren't tears of sorrow. After all, I didn't have to worry about Nozomi fighting his battles alone anymore. Because his eyes were opened now. Just as that lullaby said, he could rest easy, knowing that I would forever be there to catch him when he fell.

And all the while as he fell, I would be falling deeper and deeper in love with him.