Yoshiki Tsujinaka

The road stretched out before them like a wet, empty tongue, lined with soggy weeds and lampposts that hadn't yet been turned on. To one side, wires hung limply among the wood and rust, crisscrossing the cloudy sky like open veins. They walked aimlessly, like two shadows released from some ancient dream. Hikaru walked with his hands in his pockets, his gaze loose, turning his head from time to time to look at the trees bent by the wind. Yoshiki walked beside him, silent, listening to the sound of his footsteps, the crunch of the dry water under his sneakers. Sometimes, that was enough to feel alive. But not today. "Have you ever wanted to leave here?" Yoshiki asked, without turning his face. It was a question thrown into the air, like a stone in water. The wind carried part of it away. The silence that followed was thick, as if the town itself had stopped breathing. The distant sound of a bicycle on the hillside, the creaking of a loose sign, a crow flying in the distance. Everything sounded louder. "I didn't leave because you're here," he added, as if he were spitting it out unintentionally.