{.✎ 02-05 //: g _ _ _ i y _ n _
Opening... Opening...
O p e n i n g . . .
— {♟} It’s happening.
Fingernails bite into his palm with a bit more depth than intended. Not that it matters now. The past few days have been a blur – - it is strange indeed, all things taken into consideration. But his mind is blank, and he absently wipes a handful of blood against a tissue and disposes of it as if nothing had happened in the first place. His mother will definitely call him careless. She had lectured him enough on the importance of self-awareness, but for some reason, he doesn’t really care. He’s just grateful that she’s alive.
Huh?
Grateful? To be appreciative of life, nature, or the unknown? That was a strange way of wording it. Of course Mom is alive. Dad is too… He should be sitting down at the kitchen table, holding a newspaper and drinking coffee or tea. If it is a Sunday, it will be tea. On any other day, it’s enough coffee to last the workday. Strange. Yukki usually remembers the date. So why is today so different?
Nervousness wells up his stomach at the thought of anything unnatural taking place. Without putting on any socks – it’s winter, he can tell by the temperature; but fear easily overtakes sense – he races downstairs, ankle twisting on the final step. A breath of relief escapes at the sight of his parents, sitting down and drinking. His eyes dart off until they meet Dad’s cup. It is tea. So today is Sunday.
“Yukki, what’s the rush?”
“Is everything okay?”
Gentle voices sound foreign, but he does not mind. They are safe. It would be strange to admit such gory thoughts – without a doubt, his mind had slipped to the worst case scenarios – so he just smiles and offers a lie as an excuse. He picks up his own cup of tea and takes a small sip. Dad smiles at him – he had smiled yesterday and the day before, but for some reason, Yukki can’t remember those days.
“Yukki, you’re being quiet.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Is it about your girlfriend?”
His initial thought is why they are pampering him so much. It’s totally strange; the family is happy and it always has been, but why does it feel off? The mention of a girlfriend, however, shocks him. Pink. His vision hazes with pink at the word, but the color quickly fades. “Girl…friend?”
Dad is first to comment on this reaction. “Aha, you’re going to ask which one, right?”
It is a poor joke. To be honest, he does not find it too funny, but lets out a weak laugh anyway. He really does not know “which one.” The pink color came again, and something jolted in his chest.
“Moe-chan,” Mom reminds him, in a voice free from tease. She ruffles his hair a bit, despite his sharp jerk away, and smiles at him. “But I’m sure you two have other nicknames for each other by now, ne?”
He appreciates her tact, but is still awestruck. Sunday… April Fools is not on a Sunday this year. There is a chance that his parents are tricking him on purpose – it is a happy marriage they share, so a collaborative scheme is not too far from possible. But he cannot find the will to disagree. It seems realistic, almost, even though he knows his place. Instead, he nods silently, waiting for future information.
“She came by today, you know.”
“You were fast asleep, so cute!”
“I’m so proud that you got yourself a gem like her.”
“Yukki, you there?”
There is another pang of emotion at the description of his girlfriend. It…It doesn’t make sense. His head throbs gently, and his eyes begin to hurt. Pink, pink, red, pink, pink. There is another girl in his mind now. She’s prettier than Moe, but he knows he cannot afford to be selfish or choosy. He is a good boyfriend after all. He is too innocent to think of things like cheating. Even so, his mind cannot help but drift. He cannot see her face, but for some reason, he knows that she would do so much more than just check on him. He is unsure how to feel about it; no, that’s weird, it’s weird. There is no other girl. No other girl at all.
He tries to remember his prior dates, but nothing comes to mind. Had…had he asked her? Or was it she who built up the initial courage? Ah, but was there reason to it? Had it started as a “one-day” thing? Nono! He would never do anything like that – he is very cautious and scared. A one day thing would surely break his heart. How weak. But then how did it start? And for how long? Did they kiss yet? He immediately touches his lips at the thought. They are soft, which is strange, given the weather. He has always loved the winter – a perfect excuse for indoor seclusion; not that he is a shut-in, nono… Wait. Is he? – but chapped lips had always accompanied it. This is strange, so strange. So it must have been a nice kiss, maybe. He has certainly been taking care of his lips via chapstick, so there must be reason to it. Who started the first kiss? Pink, pink. It hurt now. He can see a bit more clearly, the girl from before. It…it is pink hair. Strange, very strange. Had…had Moe ever had pink hair before?
“Yuk~ki~ Young lovers zone out a lot, don’t they?”
“Yukki, Moe is outside waiting for you.”
"Ah, silly boy! I’ll get your things– -“
A cellphone had been forced into his hands when he zoned out. He returns to reality with a gentle prod from Mom. Flipping open his cellphone – it has become habit – he glances at the latest message:
//: 02-01: Everything is happy.
//: 02-02: Everything is happy.
//: 02-03: Everything is happy.
//: 02-04: Everything is happy.
A…A diary? He remembers a bit more now, about writing a few entries down out of boredom. But they had never been so repetitive. He remembers recording numbers, facts, solid things, to escape emotions. If everything is happy, what is he trying to escape? Pink hair again, pink hair, pink lips, red blood. It is a gruesome color palette now that blood has been introduced, so vivid that he glances at his palm again to ensure that the wound had not reopened. No… It had not. The colors return again, still vivid, but the red looks a bit nicer. He cannot picture the pink alone now. Strange.
He fumbles with the phone again, hoping that more information could be found. There is a surprising amount of unread messages, which he quickly paws through:
//: To: YUKITERU ; From: HINATA
– - wow, first year anniversary, nice!
//: To: YUKITERU ; From: KOUSAKA
– - dude, u have to mention me in conversation ok
– - im begging u
– - at least find out if u can hook me up
– - please reply man
And almost last but not least, though he is half-expecting a different text, he is a bit surprised at the final sender. It is to be predicted, but all he can think of is pink.
//: To: YUKITERU ; From: Moe <3
– - Are you ready, Yukiteru? Today’s the day! I’m so grateful to be with you! You’re so brave and kind. Oh, that was embarrassing, was it? (／。＼##) I’m sorry! I talked to your parents earlier today; they said it would be nice if we all went to see the stars! That would be night, right? I know you’ve always loved constellations. I’ll be waiting. <3
There is a soft clank of metal colliding with the ground and something shatters. Oh. He had dropped the phone. How careless. A second thud rings as he collapses to his knees. No. He did not like the stars for constellations. He…he just likes them because of a promise. He would have forgotten the promise if it weren’t for the divorce. That is why he liked the stars.
Wait. Blood streams from his palm again as his fingers roll into a fist. There was no divorce. His parents are in front of him, happy and married and free. What is he even thinking…? Red. Redpinkpink. More blood from his palm. The text disgusts him now. It is a lie. He is neither brave nor kind. He wants to run away now. He wants to run, he wants to hide. He whispers a name, but it comes out garbled. He does not even know whose name it is. He whispers it again and again, cursing and mumbling and muttering. The words are laced with spite and guilt and confusion, and he’s rocking back and forth now mumbling. Mom rushes to his side and shakes him. Dad stands over him, but his concern is evident as well. Something is wrong. His parents are happy. If Moe calls him brave and kind, then he is brave and kind. There is no one by that name. That name does not exist. There is no pink or red or anything.
"Yukki– -”
"– - Don’t you want to see the stars?“
There is no such thing as love. So why? Why do his parents complete their sentences in this manner? No. It cannot be. They are happy, but they are sad. They are married, but long divorced. There is pink and red, but there is Moe, but there is also that other girl with the unknown name and unknown face. No. Her face flashes in his mind for a moment, but it is a look of terror that greets him. She’s scared. She’s hiding. She doesn’t want him to know. She says it’s for his own good that he does not know. She is telling him to stop, begging him to stop, pleading with him to just forget everything, to forget the human monster by the name of ▓a▓▓i ▓u▓o – !
There is a name. It is real. He hears it, but cannot grasp it. He looks at it, but does not see it. It is so clear, so blurred, so vivid, so far. It is a name, and it is not Moe Wakaba. Even Moe Wakaba cannot make his heart hurt this way. The girl looks scared, so scared. He does not want to see her this way, but knows that being silent will only make her hurt more. He does not know how he knows. He just senses it. Think, think!
He bites his lip, deep in thought. He thinks of the stars, of his diary, of everything in between. He is weeping now, pathetically crying into his bloodied hands. He’s thinking and reaching and trying to remember, trying to remember her name, and he’s so close, it’s on his lips, he’s so close…!
The phone vibrates.
The screen had shattered when he dropped it, but everything else still functions. He reaches for it, hesitant, scared that his touch will break it for sure. He scrambles through the texts, but finds no update. Confusion clouds his mind, but muscle memory leads the way. His fingers move to the document folder, to a file labeled diary.
//: 02-01: Everything is happy.
//: 02-02: Everything is happy.
//: 02-03: Everything is happy.
//: 02-04: Everything is happy.
And finally. His grip on the phone tightens. He is scared of breaking it, but scared of letting those words remain. It is a wave of relief over him. The phone is breaking beneath his fingertips, but he does not mind. He remembers now, her face, her eyes, her love. He remembers.
//: 02-05: Her name is Gasai Yuno. She is here.