ETERNAL SUMMER
⸻    私の愛する人への祈り

( 2005 )

     Love is a beautiful illusion. Beneath the flushing cheeks is a series of complex chemical reactions. Skin receptors transmit sensory information to the brain, neurons fire to the release of dopamine and oxytocin. Dilating pupils and palpitating pulse. Arousal is simply a cocktail of hormones injected into the bloodstream and attachment is the aftereffect of increasing tolerance to the release of pleasure stimulants.

Romance has never been a part of their vocabulary. They are simply idiots attracted to one another, in that inexplicable way as two intersecting lines would collide at a single point of meeting. Across space, across time, amidst unpredictable paths—the universe would always conspire to connect them together.

The dazzling blue sky darkens to a grey haze as the first splatter of rain strikes the pavement, staining the asphalt and gravel beneath her feet. Droplets slide down her skin, damping her hair and clothes as the humidity rises. She remembers the summer rain that lasted the entire week, the slight chill in the air penetrating her new school uniform. And the warmth of his hand clasped around hers, heart throbbing in the base of her throat.

Like Newton's first law, he is an external force that propels her from a state of rest. Sapphire eyes glancing over a shoulder as he pulls her across the compound. "Run, Kurosawa!" he shouts enthusiastically.

Puddles splash beneath their shoes as the deluge chases after them. They run the shortest path towards the nearest shelter within the main school building. Panting and dripping wet as they push the door open, crashing ankles against the benches and causing the cleaning tools to clatter noisily onto the floor. The silence that follows their chaotic entrance is punctuated by their heavy breaths as they recline against the wall.

Her hair and clothes stick to her skin like plaster, water trickles down her arms and legs. Sayuri turns to him, noticing the way his shirt clings to his broad shoulders and rippling abdomen. It should be a violation of decency to be as blindingly beautiful as stardust. With her hand still clasped in his, she feels safe and comforted. A haven from the storm, between the darkness and the ghost lights.

He holds her gaze as his breathing evens out and though she makes no attempt to let go, he brazenly tightens his hold on her. Thunder rumbles overhead and she smiles back with a flutter in her chest, letting her gaze fall to the ground. "What's wrong, Gojo-kun? Are you afraid of being alone?"

"Nothing like that," he replies with a lopsided grin, diverting his attention to the ceiling. "More like... afraid I'll lose sight of you."

She laughs and leans towards him, close enough that she can taste him if she wants to. His mesmerizing eyes glaze under the pale light, the sharp edges of his face softening. Silver hair tousled and gleaming like fresh snow. Taking the opportunity, she plucks the sunglasses from his head and puts them on playfully. "You can see me clearly like this then," she says before quickly darting down the hallway.

He exclaims with incredulity before following after her. "Damn, you played me instead."

"These sunglasses are so dark," Sayuri remarks, fingers on the rims and almost stumbling over her own feet. "You shouldn't tease me so much, you know. What if I really get a crush on you?"

His smirk is wicked. "I don't see a problem with that."

The school is unnecessarily large and their footsteps echo throughout every corridor. She whirls around lightly to face him while walking backwards. "Of course there is. We haven't known each other for that long."

Even as she says it, her soul whispers otherwise. She knows him long before she ever set eyes on him, before she lost her heart to his hands. From the expression on his face, she knows it to be true. He thinks so too, feels it deep within the foundation of his bones. Like a premonition of love, a slow and gradual free fall into each other's arms.

The back of her heel collides against the bottom step of the stairs. She cries out in pain and almost loses her balance, outstretched hand reaching for the railing. Satoru catches hold of her wrist as she balances precariously on her toes before being pulled against him. Her entire body trembles within his grasp as she gazes back at him with weakened knees. He smells like summer rain and sunshine and the effervescent sea.

"We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other, don't we?" he asks with an enticing smile. She's so close to touching those lips of his and she wonders if they're as smooth as they appear. As delectable as forbidden fruit.

Her voice is thin and wispy. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

His feathered lashes grazes his cheeks as his intense gaze ignites a thousand stars inside her soul. "Isn't it the other way around?"

She places the sunglasses back over his eyes, shielding her from those brilliant galaxies within. Sayuri whispers in his ear, "You would know if I was seducing you."

He lets her slip away from his grasp, climbing the stairs to the second floor with clicking heels and a twirling skirt. "You can't play with my heart like that, Sayuri-chan," he complains.

Her laughter echoes as she ducks into a classroom, waiting for him to catch up to her. She leans against the window, admiring the effortless elegance of his limbs. "What's your favourite colour, Satoru-kun?"

His head tilts to the side in bewilderment. "Is this a test?" he questions.

"Indulge me," she says.

He hums in thought, brows furrowing with chin supported in a hand. The sight of him mulling it over so seriously makes her want to laugh again. "I guess if I had to pick something... it would probably be purple?"

"That's a nice colour..." she says as she flits to the next window. "I think for me... I still prefer the colour blue." Of the summer sky, the ocean and the constellations within his eyes. "And your favourite food?"

He takes a step forward to keep up with her, another playful grin lighting up his face. Like a cat and mouse game, like the moon chasing the sun across the eternal sky. "I've been eating sweet things to stimulate my brain."

"What about dislikes?"

"I don't like the taste of alcohol."

"Hobbies?"

"I can do anything I put my mind to."

They reach the door, standing in front of one another as the whispering rain continues to pour outside. She looks up at him from between her lashes, a whimsical smile playing about her lips. "And... what is it that you like about me, Satoru-kun?"

A stellar incandescence kindles within those blue eyes, starburst streaking through clouds. The way he looks at her as if she holds the entire universe in the palm of her hand. Forever is composed of all the nows between them. "How do I put it into words..." he starts.

Satoru leans towards her and she can feel the cold from his damp shirt against her skin. But beneath that, he's scorching fire. Like a hurricane with the passion of a thousand suns, blossoming flower petals whisked off into the delicate unknown. He glitters like gold and diamonds in the waves, asterisms woven into his soul. She surrenders herself into the midsummer sky, entangled within the red string that binds them. Her heart soars on the wings of hope into an endless dream.

"You make me feel alive," he whispers. Throbbing hearts, dilating pupils, blushing cheeks, the giddy rush of ecstasy through their veins. There is ambrosia on his lips and heaven in his eyes. A single touch from him and she would burn for a hundred lifetimes.

What hope did she ever have? She never stood a chance.

     Sayuri thinks about death more often than she ought to. It's usually brushed off as an inevitability in their line of work, an unfortunate afterthought whenever she leans too closely into its embrace. The sweet scent of its decay would linger for days. Like a persistent ache in her belly after sinking her teeth into rot-infested fruits, corpse flowers strewn all around her.

Sometimes she can smell it on his skin, woven into every strand of his moonshot hair. In every petite mort where she loses herself to the maddening climax of his tongue and fingers between her legs. When their bodies are entwined as one and his name is a feverish prayer on her lips in the throes of self-immolating passion. Yes, she thinks, death is always imminent whenever she is within Satoru's arms and her lips press against his.

When she had officially enrolled at Kyoto Jujutsu High at first ( mistakenly, thanks to her naïveté ), they had issued her a student card with the rank of Special Grade. At the time, she had no idea what that meant though she had an inkling that it's somewhat connected to her lineage. She has only ever used her technique twice throughout her entire life as a consequence of living in the blissful ignorance of self-exile.

Yaga had been easy on her in the beginning though that quickly changed due to the shortage of sorcerers, especially Special Grade ones. She can still remember her first real mission with perfect clarity, serving as a test of her prowess. It had been the night she realised how truly inadequate she was. In the presence of both Satoru and Suguru, she pales by far in comparison to their excellence.

Always two steps behind, always considered the weakest link, the image of their backs searing into her retinas. Even though she has unlimited reverse cursed energy at her fingertips, heavenly weapons at her disposal and the protection of divinity itself. She is always engulfed within their shadow, left behind in their dust.

Stepping foot into that derelict church, she has a feeling of intruding upon sacred grounds herself. The towering statue of the maiden mother stands over them by the empty altar, unseeing eyes that weep with false compassion for the trespassing deceiver. Sayuri has never given much thought to religion, though her family would observe the Shinto traditions and ceremonies. The concept of faith is oddly foreign to her despite it being the human condition to ponder the meaning of love, death and morality.

( Though she would later come to worship a certain blue-eyed god whom she places on an altar of her own making and holds frenzied rites to in the dead of night. Holy sacraments to anoint herself with his seraphic grace and seal her devotion with parted lips gasping for penitence. Dousing herself with carnal sin in a baptism of fire and partaking in his sacred flesh. )

"Why do only curses and fears materialise as spirits?" she questions later, staring at the familiar ceiling of his room. The song of cicadas spills forth from the open window as her bare body relishes the night breeze after an hour of ardent lovemaking. "What about hopes and wishes?"

His fingers trail lazy circles across her skin, his hot breath tickling the length of her neck. He mumbles back, "Maybe they become something else."

"Like what?" she presses and he hums back in a chivalrous effort to entertain her late-night musings. It's almost four in the morning but it's also the weekend and they have plans to visit Akibahara to buy a new Nintendo DS.

( "Digimon Lost Evolution is out!" Satoru had happily announced earlier that afternoon. She prefers Pokemon but it isn't in her nature to disappoint him so. )

His muffled voice against her hair is nonchalantly apathetic as his brain surrenders to the advent of sleep instead. "No idea."

She turns to him persistently. "People pray every day as much as they curse the world, why is there no energy from that? Why do we have to reverse cursed energy instead?"

Bleary azure eyes open to peer at her through a thick veil of fatigue. "We can ask Yaga about it next time."

Her mind continues to churn for answers. "Don't you think it's strange? There are monsters lurking in every corner yet not a single angelic being to be seen. Not even a tooth fairy."

"That's not true," he objects and she hums back in question. Her eyes study his languid face as she waits expectantly for him to enlighten her. The moon caresses his cheeks with its lustrous glow, gentle sighs tumbling from parted lips. She leans forward to touch him with feather-light fingertips, admiring the angled strokes of his jaw and pastel flicks of his lashes. Sea-glass eyes open once more as he whispers, "Sometimes, hopes and wishes can be other people too. To me, you're like a waking dream."

"Wow," she breathes out a sigh of awe. "You're a genius and a poet, Satoru. A genius poet."

"Yes, I am." His lids flutter shut for a brief moment. "Why are you still awake? Did I not satisfy you enough?"

He rolls himself on top of her and she laughs while attempting to push him off. "Get lost, I can't sleep."

"I know a way to tire you out," he murmurs against her ear. His hands start to move beneath the sheets, calloused fingers sliding down the inside of her thigh. She relinquishes her contemplations to the pleasure of his touch, vespers painting their lips and ardour mingled in their breaths.

Sayuri thinks about it often; how love and death are one and the same.