Synopsis: When directing a film about his life in the countryside, Yoshiki was visited by his past.
A/N: Heavily inspired by Shunji Iwai’s film: Love Letter and Pastoral: to die in the country (directed by Shuji Terayama)
Not proofread js having fun.
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Yoshiki looked over the cameraman’s shoulder, making sure he angled the camera at the perfect position. Everyone was already set in place: his younger self by the entrance of the mountain, gripping onto Hikaru’s raincoat. Preventing him from going in.
The crew chose the perfect night, as the trees blew with the breeze, the sky being filled with stars that twinkled every so often.
Yoshiki took a deep breath before shouting, “Action!”
The rain began to pour, drenching the two actors in the muddy incline. The younger Yoshiki’s face morphed into a fearful expression.
“I know what you’re trying to do! You can’t go! I won’t let you—“
This was supposed to be the end of the film, where Yoshiki is able to drag Hikaru away from the mountain, and take him back home. The second camera angles itself to focus on Yoshikis grip before Hikaru’s hand takes it.
The main camera was now focused on Hikaru’s face, the actors eyes beginning to well up with tears. The tears that spilled from his eyes mixed with the rain, his hand gripping Yoshikis close to his beating heart.
The scene was beautiful: the actors emotions, the angles, the tricks of the camera that emphasized certain colors and details that Yoshiki wanted to portray.
From his beating heart, the lens tilts upward to Hikarus face. Slowly, his lovely smile adorns the screen beside Yoshiki. He draws his eyes away from the scene to view the screen. It was a good imitation but, it wasn’t his Hikaru.
He hesitated the next words, having to slightly clear his throat before speaking, “Cut!”
As soon as he made the call, the actors went back to their normal places, the rain machine was shut off. Production quickly made their way to go clean up the scene. Yoshiki could only stand still for so long, wanting to bask in the last moments of this scene.
Though, he forced himself to make his way to thank cast and crew for their support. It had been a 3 year project that took Yoshiki a long time to complete; he had to write the script, pool in money, gather up a cast and crew— it was a lot of dedication.
“You all did amazing, thank you so much for… making this all happen,” Yoshiki had always a soft melancholy voice yet, he always got people’s respect. He brushed aside the bangs that always seemed to cover parts of him, “Hopefully by next month will have a portion of the film to show the beta viewers for feedback.”
As promised, Yoshiki’s editing team patched up the film to show to a small audience for feedback. He invited some friends that he had made living in Tokyo, many he became close to during college. He stood at the corner of the dark room, watching the back of their heads as they viewed his film.
Yoshiki tightened his crossed arms closer to his chest, his eyes still jumping from form to form. Any yawn or scribble on their papers was over analyzed by Yoshiki; Is it too boring? Is the dialogue too clunky?
Once the film had finally concluded, the dark room was slowly brightened by the lights, which caused each patron to applause Yoshiki. He made his over to the front, grabbing a mic that was propped up.
“Ah, thank you for coming…! Please make sure to leave feedback for us,” Yoshiki gestured toward the door, “In the main hallway their is a bar that has food and drinks, make sure to enjoy your night and discuss with others. Thank you very much.”
At the bar, Yoshiki observed how his cast and crew could easily talk to the audience, each of them talking passionately about the work. He had ordered a beverage, even though he barely drank; nonetheless, Yoshiki watched as the ice began to merge with the alcohol.
He rested uncomfortably on his palm, focusing on the small details in front of him—barely noticing the man beside him.
“That was some film you got there.”
Yoshiki finally gave his palm a rest, turning his gaze at the presence beside him. It was one of his college buddies, wearing a nice suit with a cigarette between his lips.
“You never mentioned you were from Kubitachi,” taking the bud from his lips to offer it, which Yoshiki declined.
“Well… I never knew how to bring it up, y’know. Home is a touchy subject.”
“Did ya ever send that invitation? To that one guy back home?”
Yoshiki knew what the man referring to, it was a letter he had written to Hikaru, an invitation to his film. Though, Yoshiki never sent it—he felt uncomfortable to send after their falling out.
“Yeah… but, he said he was too busy to come.”
The man nods, tapping the burning pieces of his cigarette, “How true is it to your own life?”
Yoshiki could only let out a weak chuckle, “Most of it is just shit that’ll look nice on the screen,” his fingers reached toward the burning smoke to take it in his own lips, “I really have come this far, to exploit my own childhood.”
The man could see the turmoil in Yoshiki’s eyes, the purse of his lips sticking out in a frustrated pout. He took the bud from his lips, putting it out in a nearby ashtray.
“Think of it as going back in time. You’re just liberating yourself in a way,” the chuckled at something that was not spoken, “What would you do if had to go back in time?”
Yoshiki continued to stare at the dying cigarette, taking in the question, “I’d probably tell the truth.”
Yoshiki knew that his best friend back in kubitachi was not his friend. He knew that Hikaru had passed away in those mountains: cold, alone, scared. He remembered how cold his skin was when his fingers tips hesitantly graze his cheeks.
But he had never told anyone. He could never have told anyone because, Hikaru came back.
Yoshiki walked in the buzzing streets of Tokyo; no matter what time of day it was, people were always moving. Yoshiki had grown used to the movement, his feet always taking him somewhere farther and farther away from home.
He moved to the city as soon as he could, hoping it’d bring a sense of relief. Not that he didn’t miss the countryside. He enjoyed the beautiful vast fields, the big giant mountains that always dwarfed his form, but even that space seemed to dwindle with the people.
Though, the city was just as suffocating as Kubitachi.
Yoshiki could hear the step wheezing as he put his weight on each plank to get to his door, but he soon stopped just before getting to the top.
There he was, or what was left of him.
His red eyes gleamed, leaning lazily against Yoshiki’s doorstep—waiting for him. Hearing his name leave Yoshiki’s lips, Hikaru’s childish smile crept up his face.
Yoshiki stared at his friend, his eyes dancing along his skin, noticing the changes. He was still short, but he had gotten tanner, more muscular from working in the rice farms. Yoshiki’s eyes landed at his neck, seeing the subtle line where his head had been sliced off; a constant reminder who he was not.
“What are you doing here?”
Hikaru leaned his head against Yoshiki’s apartment door, “I got your invitation.”
Yoshiki furrowed his brows, “How…? I never sent—“
Hikaru pushed himself off the wall, “Y’haven’t visited me in a while. Not since…y’know.”
Yoshiki’s jaw clenched at the memory.
The memory of their kiss.
Yoshiki thought he had fully accepted this being. That he would be able to seperate ‘Hikaru’ from Hikaru. But the moment that their lips pressed against one another; the way ‘Hikaru”s lips felt a bit chapped, awkward, his tongue wanting to eagerly take the next step—just like he had imagined Hikaru’s would be.
Though, when lips separated, their eyes meeting once more; Yoshiki felt a pit in his stomach. He couldn’t help but feel guilty for still thinking about Hikaru. He had imagined his first kiss to be with Hikaru—-which it still was, but not truly.
Yoshiki could tell that ‘Hikaru’ had read his expression; his lips going from a flushed smile into a worried frown.
Yoshiki turned his head away from him, his bangs covering his eyes, but ‘Hikaru’ could sense he was still looking at him.
It was true, the kiss had been perfect but, he still felt so wrong. He imagined the kiss he would share with his Hikaru; however, it had always been a fantasy. It will always be a fantasy, knowing it wasn’t the real Hikaru he was kissing.
He would never know how he would truly react if they had kiss—-if Hikaru had even liked him like that. Knowing that he could only kiss and be loved by the thing that filled Hikaru, it was all too much. All the possibilities made his heart feel so heavy.
What was worse, he had the pressure of ‘Hikaru”s feelings for him, his love for him. Yoshiki felt terrible for feeling the doubt in his heart: Why can’t he accept ‘Hikaru’?
Then, he went off to Tokyo. Running away from him.
But now, ‘Hikaru’ was here, taking Yoshiki back to Kubitachi.
He remembered how much it burned to breathe.
His raincoat could barely keep away the water that was pouring down his form; however, he continue to run up the mountains. Yoshiki knew he shouldn’t have been there, the elders were already doing so much to look for Hikaru. But, he needed to be of some sort of use.
Yoshiki waved his flashlight around, hoping Hikaru would be able to see him from a far. He hoped that this would all end well. That he’d find Hikaru, the elders would scold him for being an idiot, but they’ll be together once more. His brain had already conjured up the worst that could happen: a broken ankle, broken leg, broken anything.
Death hadn’t even crossed his mind.
“Hikaru! Hikaru—It’s me! Yoshiki! Hikaru!”
He’d imagine Hikaru had gotten stuck between bushes, his body soaked and scared. He imagined as they eyes would meet, Hikaru would have his signature smile of his—-letting Yoshiki know he was okay.
Yoshiki’s feet had bumped into something, he moved his flashlight in order to see what he had stepped on.
Hesitantly, his flashlight tilted upward to reveal Hikaru’s full-lifeless form. He instantly dropped his light, going on his knees to check on Hikaru; however, his skin was cold to the touch. Despite that, Yoshiki’s hands were still on his face detailing ever curve and dip.
He couldn’t stay for long, as he saw another light coming close. Quickly, he ran back home, not wanting to get caught sneaking into the mountains. It pained him to leave Hikaru all alone.
Though, seeing him back alive, knowing it wasn’t Hikaru ripped his heart. He would lay in his bed, looking back at their texts—remembering the stupid pictures Hikaru would send whenever Yoshiki’s parents were fighting. Now, he was gone. No one knew except Yoshiki.
Despite the pain, he found himself falling in love with ‘Hikaru’. He loved the gleam in his eyes when he would eat his favorite food, trying them for the first time. How’d he would find “boring” movies so interesting, even when his past self would say otherwise. His joy was so pure that it made Yoshiki feel so…free.
Yet, his love for Hikaru still lingered in quiet moments.
“What even made ya wanna make a film?”
Hikaru began to slice open the ripped green watermelon in pieces; the Indou family home hadn’t really changed much from the years, it was still loved and cared for, but now it was just Hikaru caring for it.
Yoshiki watched as Hikaru placed a slice right in front of him, watching his every movement.
“I just wanted to make something that would… preserve his memory.”
Hikaru raised a brow, his mouth already munching on the juicy flesh, “Do I get to exist?”
Yoshiki chuckled, “That’d make the movie fiction,” finally taking a bite of the slice Hikaru had cut for him.
Yoshiki hesitated his next bite, “No one would believe… this… Us.”
Hikaru’s lips purse into a pout, “People could interpret it as a metaphor or sumthin’.”
“It would make the script too confusing—I’d have to rewrite everything—“
“But at least it’s the truth.”
“Yr’ just makin’ excuses—“
“C’mon, don’t be a wuss, say it, “Hikaru leaned forward, using one of his hands to support himself.
“I just can’t let go of him.”
Yoshiki’s eyes finally meet up with Hikaru’s, hoping he’d end the conversation—end whatever he was getting at by bringing him back to Kubitachi. But, to his surprise, Hikaru gave him a beautiful smile that only made Yoshiki’s heart swell.
Yoshiki could barely get a wink of sleep, he kept shifting from side to side in Hikaru’s spare futon beside his bed. He still couldn’t understand the conversation—or argument— the two had.
Yoshiki still didn’t understand Hikaru had brought him back home.
The questions swirled around his head, his emotions were all over the place—He really needed to go back to Tokyo to fix his film! Suddenly, he was woken up by the sound of soft pattering near his head, Hikaru had gotten up.
“Yoshiki…Yoshiki, get up…”
His voice was soft, a bit groggy from the sleep that still clung to him. It was so familiar yet, it was still his own sound.
Yoshiki sat up, his body a bit sweaty from the summer heat that Kubitachi always brought, “What—what’s goin’ on?”
Hikaru prodded him with his foot, “C’mon, I gotta show ya somethin’ “
Yoshiki didn’t expect a hike at the crack of dawn. He followed Hikaru through a trail, listening to the beetles ringing out, the breeze pushing the grass back and forth. It’d been a while since Yoshiki had walked these trails once more. Their walk took them a little over Kubitachi, into the back of the mountains; furthermore, there was a small opening that would give a nice view of the hills that covered their home.
He wondered how Hikaru would’ve found a place like this, how long it took him to find a beautiful spot to see the mountains in this way. He imagined the quiet journeys, his white hair blowing with the wind as he discovered new views, he probably gotten some camera to take photos of the insects.
A small smile quirked up his lips thinking about the ways Hikaru enjoyed life, it had even inspired Yoshiki to direct. He originally wanted to capture how life must’ve looked for Hikaru, but along the way, he found himself creating a film about his own desires.
He could feel the cold air touch his bare arms as the drew into the shade of the trees. He remembered when they were younger; Hikaru had always wanted to roam around the forest to find large animals that he had read in books, even if they weren’t even native to Japan. The two would spent hours walking along patches of trees, never to far from home because they were scared of getting lost.
They would hold each others hand to not slip into unsteady rocks; Hikaru would always take the lead, pointing at random plants, pretending to know their names.
‘How are you now? I’m doing well’
When “Hikaru” had shown up, he had a sliver of hope that he could bring back his friend. That it was like those mangas where somehow Hikaru was trapped in some fantasy world, but there would be a way to bring him back.
Though, remembering Hikaru’s cold skin, the way his lips had already turned blue—his hope would vanish. He had to silently mourn; silently prey every night that Hikaru was resting well.
Yoshiki hadn’t noticed that they had finally made to where Hikaru had wanted them to go, his face smacked onto Hikaru’s back.
“Wow—watch your step,” Hikaru chuckled, holding his shoulders to steady him.
“Sorry—“ Yoshiki finally looked ahead of him, the sun had finally came up that it casted a beautiful glow onto the mountains, clouds brushed past the natural form in gentle strokes.
Yoshiki felt himself being pushed forward,“C’mon, I betcha got some complaints for him.”
Yoshiki turned behind him, glancing at Hikaru, confused on what he was trying to do. But, Hikaru gave him an encouraging smile. He stepped closer to Yoshiki, puffing out his chest.
Yoshiki was startled, he didn’t expect Hikaru to just…yell. The birds even flocked away from the mountain from how much ruckus Hikaru caused.
“I’m taking Yoshiki from you!”
Yoshiki’s eyes widen, he instinctively smacked Hikaru’s chest; however he caught his hand, placing it close to where his heart was.
“Are you still singing up there, Hikaru!”
Hikaru’s eyes meet Yoshiki’s, the grip on his hand tightens—reassuring him to do what needs to be done. Hesitantly, Yoshiki steps forward, walking a few meters into the long grass. The breeze blew against his body, whispering through his ears of words he couldn’t understand fully; however, Yoshiki raised his hands close to his mouth.
The name echoes through field, the grass bending over like a sort of wave.
Yoshiki’s eyes bore into the lump of earth right in front, watching as it expanded with the movement of the trees—breathing. His through began to well up, tears began to sting his eyes. The wind began to chap his lips, which he brushed his tongue against to continue.
He took another deep breath, despite his lungs having trouble to keep in the air.
“How are you?!….Im doing well!”
He dropped to his knees, continuing his words, “I came back! From Tokyo…!”
Yoshiki’s welled up tears began to fall, his teeth began to grit from trying to hold his sobs.
“It’s true! He’s going to steal me away! I love him, Hikaru!”
Once the final words spill from his lips, he clenched the grass tightly, crying in the air in ugly breaths. It had been so long since he had finally cried out for Hikaru… it felt so freeing. To finally, outwardly, mourn to someone so dear to him—who had meant the world to him. It hurt. To let go of Hikaru, to leave him back into the mountains.
Yoshiki hadnt even realized Hikaru had come up to place his head into his chest, his roughed up fingers grazing into his dark hair.
It was a bit awkward walking back to Hikaru’s house, his eyes were puffy and red from crying, his nose was overly dry—it was not his best look.
But he felt reassured by the warmth of Hikaru’s hand, the way his thumb kept constantly rubbing at his skin felt very comforting. Yoshiki almost hesitated his next move, but he tugged Hikaru’s arm back causing him to turn toward Yoshiki.
Hikaru didn’t even have enough time to react before Yoshiki had pressed his lips against his. It was no longer awkward or unsure; it was desperate and loving. Yoshiki held Hikaru by the back of his neck, both hands rubbing against the fine line on his neck.
