In the land of snow monsters and steam baths, complex characters as diverse as the Japanese terrain experience lust, loss, and love.
A young boy performs a daring rescue. A woman loses her old life to face an uncertain new one. A teenager suffers through a cataclysmic event. Unusual bonds form at the Tokyo Olympics. A rent boy’s hardened heart melts when he meets a sexy, buoyant stranger.
Much like the Japanese islands themselves, there is commonality to be found among myriad differences. The poet, the musician, the artist, the tortured mother, the bankrupt father, the protective brother -- they all know that there’s a new day awaiting them after the moon slips sideways down the sky.
Finalist for the Ferro-Grumley Award for LGBT Fiction in the 27th annual Triangle Awards.
At the end of the day the boys headed in the same direction, for a time, until they reached Angelus Dori.
As was usual, they walked in silence, Akio hanging back a few steps behind Genkei. Today, however, Akio felt a little braver. He gathered up his courage. He took a deep breath. “I ... I like your idea. A ship to the stars.”
Genkei stopped walking. He turned. “It’s just dumb fantasy,” he said.
“Fantasy is necessary.”
Genkei shrugged. “I really liked your drawing, though.”
“My dirt drawing?”
“Yes.”
Akio tapped the heel of his shoe against the curb. “What part of the city do you live in?”
“The most destitute part,” Genkei said, without hesitation.
Akio was silent.
“Are you related to the factory owner? Takahishi Hifumi?”
We’re not rich, if that’s what you mean. The words sounded in Akio’s head. He stopped himself. Maybe Genkei wasn’t making that kind of implication. “Yes. He’s my uncle.”
“My father worked at the factory. Before he was called to the navy. He said Takahishi-san is very kind.”
“Yes,” Akio said, “I like working for him too. I’m employed as his nephew.”
Genkei laughed.
“I get to tell Uchida-san your smile is back,” Akio said.
“When will I be able to tell him yours had its big debut?”
Lips drawn, Akio said, “Soon. Maybe.”
“Thank you again for sharing your lunch with me,” Genkei said.
A man approached them. He stopped, arms folded. Akio had become adept at detecting administrators. They were either too old or too out-of-shape for the army or navy. “Do you boys have a specific place to be?”
“We just finished at the small farm, under Uchida --”
“Then proceed to your next destination. No loitering.”
Do you think we’re spies? Saboteurs? We can’t stop to chat for a few minutes? This war was becoming ever burdensome. Akio hated it.
“Yes, sir,” Genkei said.
The man walked on.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Genkei said.
“Bright and early.”
Akio watched as Genkei headed up Angelus Dori. But before he rounded a corner, Akio sprinted toward him. “Matsuo Genkei, wait!”
Genkei stopped. He turned.
Akio caught his breath. “Do you ...” How could he phrase it the right way? “My mother, she…she always makes more lunch than I can eat. Do you ... I can bring --”
Genkei raised his hand. “No one has more than they can eat these days.”
Akio glanced down at the cracks in the street.
Genkei touched Akio’s arm. Akio’s body tensed. It was like lightning jolting through his body. His heart raced.
“I didn’t mean that harshly,” Genkei said. “That was the nicest thing that ...” He trailed off. “That was kind, Takahishi Akio.” He drew his hand away. He was trembling. “I’m not ashamed that I have to --”
“No, no, please,” Akio said. “We ... we’re ...”
“It’s all right,” Genkei said. “I can guess what your house looks like. I know what part of the neighborhood you’re from. And I know you don’t ...” Genkei sighed. “I don’t mind eating what I have to. A lot of people ... we’re all eating what we have to.”
“I just get sick of dried fish,” Akio said. “That’s all.”
The man walked back along the other side of the street. “Boys!”
“I have to go,” Genkei said.
Akio’s face was burning.
“Tomorrow,” Genkei said, “we’ll combine our lunch. Okay? If you’re sick of dried fish, and I’m sick of crickets, we’ll both have a little of each. Is that okay?”
Akio looked up. “Have I offended you, Matsuo Genkei?”
“You’ve made me happier than I’ve been in a long time,” Genkei said. “You’re the first boy who’s been kind to me since we moved here.”
Without another word, Genkei turned the corner and disappeared down an alley.
The man across the street pointed at Akio. Akio wanted to throw his sketching stone at him. But it would have been a waste of a resource.
