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The unrelenting screeches of cicadas are oppressive on Yoshiki’s ears, almost as overwhelming as the brutal heat of summer. Sweat collects on his overgrown bangs, and he recoils in disgust as damp strands flicked across his forehead with every step he took.
“Hikaru,” Yoshiki pants, trying (and failing) to catch up with Hikaru — who had the demeanor of someone too unbothered despite hiking for miles in this heat, “where the hell are we goin’?”
“Shh, you’ll see,” Hikaru replies carelessly as he continues his trek, waving Yoshiki off without even sparing him a glance. Like he simply just knows instinctively, Yoshiki will follow him anyway. Yoshiki represses a groan of frustration. And follows him. This has become a frequent thing with Hikaru, since his daddy died a few months back — Hikaru’s new cryptic nature. It feels like every question Yoshiki asks him, he’s only left with more questions in the end. So, Yoshiki says nothing. He lowers his head to look down at his feet, ducking away from the sun’s assault on his eyes, and instead focuses on trying to match Hikaru’s pace.
In truth, Yoshiki didn’t have much interest in whatever Hikaru’s ‘surprise’ was gonna be. He thinks that would’ve been different a little while ago, when Hikaru’s surprises were small, silly and stupid things — like just taking Yoshiki to get papicco, even though they already did that every day, it was different, because Hikaru labeled it as a surprise.
But that wasn’t the case anymore. Hikaru’s ‘surprises’ were not papicco, Hikaru’s ‘surprises’ weren’t predictable anymore, and never made a lick of sense to Yoshiki.
“See, ‘shiki, almos’ there!” Hikaru grabs Yoshiki’s shoulder and gives it a shake, snapping him out of his stupor. He looked up at Hikaru, who was grinning wide and pointing off somewhere in the distance. Yoshiki’s eyes followed Hikaru’s finger, squinting to see if he could get a glimpse of what his best friend was talking about. Right around there is when the smell hit him. He immediately gags on the spot.
Yoshiki can hear Hikaru giggling at his dilemma, and he thinks he can hear a ‘what a wuss!’ in there, but he’s not sure because he cannot focus on anything other than the stench absolutely violating his sinuses. His ears are literally ringing. He pinches his nose shut, which proves to be a fruitless effort because he can still taste the smell.
It’s bad. Real bad. It reeks of old garbage and spoiled milk, and it makes the back of Yoshiki’s mouth pool with saliva as he strains to not vomit everywhere. Yoshiki’s already racing heart stutters and spasms in his chest with dread when he puts two and two together — that whatever is in the air, smells very dead.
“Goddamn flies everywhere,” Yoshiki hears Hikaru grumble once the ringing in his ears stops, followed by a loud smack from the younger boy swatting at the buzzing insects. Did he not smell that?
…
Or did he just not care?
Then he had the audacity to keep moving forward, towards that stench, like a maniac. And, what, he just expected Yoshiki to follow him like an idiot?
Hikaru stops in his tracks when it seems like he realizes he doesn’t hear Yoshiki trailing behind him anymore. He turns around, his face unimpressed.
“If ya back out now, I’ma beat ya,” Hikaru laughs like it’s funny, but it’s really not. None of this is funny to Yoshiki. He just wants to go home, but the thought of leaving Hikaru here alone makes him reel with anxiety.
“… Naw, ‘m not goin’, ‘n you—“
“Fine, then! I’ll jus’ go by myself, damn, screw you ‘n yer damn surprise!”
“No!”
“Why, y’think I can’t handle myself?”
“Because it smells like somethin’ died over there!”
Hikaru eyes Yoshiki with a look he can’t identify before sneering, “ya know nothin’ of death, Yoshiki.”
Yoshiki flinches. Yeah. Hikaru’s daddy. If Yoshiki was honest, he would say that he didn’t understand Hikaru’s logic at all. He doesn’t understand why just because Hikaru’s daddy was gone, he was just allowed to do dangerous things now, ‘cause he ‘understood death now’.
But Yoshiki was not honest. He thinks about leaving Hikaru here to roam off all by himself, thinks about how Hikaru would be utterly helpless if something were to happen, no matter how tough his best friend believes he is.
Because his best friend is not tough. His best friend faints over horror movies and flips out over large insects landing on him.
He grits his teeth. Digs the nail of his thumb into the palm of his hand.
“… if I come with ya, will ya pick a tamer surprise next time?” Yoshiki folds like wet cardboard, and Hikaru smiles like nothing happened at all.
————-
And there it was. What was left of the deer that Yoshiki was sure once carried herself with grace looked like a deflated, mangy rug tossed into the dirt. A week in the summer heat had melted her flesh, and the abdomen had long since burst open, leaving a mess of dried fluids and guts. The grass beneath it was completely black and dead, killed by the toxic fluids pooling into the soil.
“Damn. Bitch got fucked up since the last time I saw her,” Hikaru comments casually from where he stands over the deer’s corpse, hands in the pockets of his shorts. Yoshiki hums noncommittally, and pretends to not acknowledge or think about the fact that this was not Hikaru’s first time here.
“Y’think a bear got ‘er?”
“Naw. When I found ‘er, she had no wounds. She prolly jus’ died naturally,” Hikaru replies. Bends down to inspect her carcass further.
Yoshiki’s gaze was fixed on the left eye of the animal. It repulsed him, but he couldn’t look away. The milky white gelatin-like ball bulged in her skull, about ready to burst. He’s only able to tear his gaze away when he hears Hikaru laugh.
Still smiling, Hikaru looks up at Yoshiki, “ain’t it crazy that this gross shit happens all the time? Cycle of life, ‘n all that.”
“I guess?”
“It’s even gonna happen ta me. Could happen tomorrow.”
Yoshiki swallows.
“Yeah. It could.”