Hey, big sis, it's me.

He brushed the weathered tombstone gently. Etched upon it were the words: "Hirose Hikari."

Carefully, he replaced the withered flowers with fresh ones he had brought along.

These are chrysanthemums. White, just like Mother loved. I never knew your favorite color, but I hope you'd like these too.

Kneeling down, he began arranging the flowers meticulously, appreciating the serene atmosphere of the burial ground. It was no surprise; it was nearing three o'clock in the afternoon, an hour when hardly anyone visited the gravesite. He figured he was the lone visitor for today, so there was no need to hurry.

He had purchased the flowers from Hanasuki flower shop near the takoyaki stall, the same one managed by the old Baa-san. Seeing her bent figure and short-sighted eyes, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.

Then it struck him – his sister never knew Baa-san and everyone else he knew. Hikari lived in their family old house atop the hill, and she had passed away long before he was born.

Using a disposable rag he had bought from the supermarket, he wiped away the faint dust and leaves clinging to the tombstone.

It's been a while since Father last came here, huh?

A gentle breeze swept through, and he saw it as a nod from his sister.

Trying to conjure up an image of her face, he imagined her smiling. He didn't know her well; she resembled Mom, her face only familiar through old photographs.

Big sis... do you know where our Mother is?

He couldn't pinpoint his mother's whereabouts. When he returned a year after he left his hometown, he found his family's shop replaced by a pet store. Disguised with long hair, he posed as a customer seeking Hirose Sports Shop. Neighbors told him about his mother's illness and his father's sale of the shop before leaving Misawa as well.

He tried to contact his grandparents in Akita but he couldn't reach them failed – phone number disconnected. Unfamiliar with their address and never having visited Akita, he felt stranded. His father's family in Hachinohe had long since lost contact, a result of his father's estrangement after relocating to Misawa.

He suspected his mother resided in Akita with his grandparents. He wanted to visit them to confirm his suspicious but he never had enough money to travel that far. His deceased older sister remained the only familial presence to engage with in Misawa.

Yet, solace lay in the thought of someone still lending an ear. Grateful for his sister's companionship, he lit incense and offered a prayer. Once done, he gravitated towards a nearby grave, contrasting in its newer, well-kept state, devoid of dried flowers, and seemingly safeguarded.

"Sorry I'm late this year."

He ran his fingers gently over the tombstone, as though seeking a connection with the one buried beneath.

"How are you?"

Even with a photo displayed at his old apartment in Tokyo, being here at the grave felt different. In Misawa, their hometown, the bond felt stronger. It was where they had shared so many memories, both beautiful and tragic.

His heart felt heavy, as it did every year. Acceptance still eluded him. Why were they must be separated when all he wanted was a lifetime together?

...

"Takeru?"

Mother slipped out through the back door, wearing only a thin jacket and a scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. The bruise from my father's punch was still visible, an ugly blue-black mark on my mother's otherwise smooth neck.

The snow, which had been falling heavily, had eased up a bit. I quickly descended from the half-climbed back wall.

"Mother, come inside. You'll catch a cold out here."

Mother hugged herself tightly. "Where are you going?"

"To the hospital," I confessed. I couldn't lie to his mother. "Otaki, my classmate, texted. I need to see Ryoji. Please don't tell Father, okay?"

Mother's dark eyes flickered with concern. She's judging me, I thought. Will she forbid me from going?

"Wear this." Mother removed her shawl and wrapped it around my neck, squeezing my hands. "If you need a ride back, just call, okay?"

I kissed Mom's cheek in gratitude and tightened the scarf around my neck before scaling the wall. The ice made the brick surface slippery, but my thick gloves provided a steady grip. I leaped to the other side and dashed towards the main road.

Suddenly, a car approached, its headlights glaring like piercing eyes. It came to a stop right in front of me.

"Where are you going?"

Father had returned. I attempted to sidestep the car, but Dad leaped out of the driver's seat with the agility of a seasoned hockey player. With a firm grip, he caught hold of my waist.

"Let me go! I'm going t to visit Ryoji!" I pleaded, struggling against his hold.

"You're not going anywhere!"

Father propped me up against the front hood of the car, as if I were just a rag doll. "Get into the house right now!"

"I just want to see him for a moment! Ryoji has been in treatment all day, and I haven't received any news from him! Please, Father!" I

Father shook his head and pinned me down like a fugitive. I struggled as hard as I could. He grabbed my head and tripped my legs with his knee. I screamed in pain. The marks from his repeated blows yesterday all over my body are still red. I fell to my knees. He grabbed the collar of my jacket and turned me around. I kept struggling, and he slapped me hard. My lip is torn again. I was in so much pain that I couldn't fight any longer.

"Father, please. I've never asked you for anything in my life. Just this one."

Father pushed me into the car and buckled me up with a seat belt. He took the rope he usually used to pack boxes and wrapped it around my hands so tightly that all my fingers went numb. I protested, but he pulled out the baseball bat he had just taken from the harbor, and pointed it at me threateningly. Then he started the engine and put the car into the back garage. He grabbed me from the car and pushed me into the house.

Mother saw me and rushed to help me, her eyes were fixed on my tied hands.

"Do not even try!" Father hissed, swinging the baseball bat at her. "I know you allowed him to escape, Keina."

Mother lowered her head and returned to the cashier's desk. Father passed me and continued into the dining room. He took off his jacket and threw it on the sofa. The baseball bat was still in his hand. I thought about my chances of escape. I could run to the kitchen, grab a knife to defend myself, and run to the hospital. Father would have used that baseball bat, but what was one more hit compared to all the punches, kicks, slaps, and kicks I'd received so far?

"Tora, your son hasn't eaten yet," Mother tried to reason. "Maybe you should—"

"He won't die if he skips dinner once."

Tears streamed down my face, an expression of the relentless agony I felt. I wept for my own weakness, for always faltering in the face of adversity. I wept for my mother, who too often found herself powerless against my father's cruelty. I wept for Ryoji, lying in the hospital because he'd chased after me and ended up hitting his head on the slippery road. And I wept for my own life, trapped in the suffocating grasp of my father's control.

Suddenly, the phone on the cashier's desk rang.

"Tell them we're closed!" Father's voice cut through from the dining room.

"Oh, Sazae-san..." Mother's tone softened as she answered the phone. "What's the matter calling in the middle of the night?"

There was a sudden hush in the room as Mother's voice trailed off. I glanced at her, noticing the shift in her expression. From fear to something else, something indescribable. She didn't speak another word until she hung up. Instead, she simply covered her mouth with her hand and looked at me.

"Ryoji-kun... he's gone."

...

He hugged the tombstone, imagining it was Ryoji's embrace he was seeking. But it felt different. The stone was cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to Ryoji's warmth and strength. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, landing on the black marble below.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Takkun?"

The voice seemed distant, as though it emanated from the very edge of the sky. It sounded surreal, yet undeniably familiar. There was a subtle shift in its tone compared to the last time he heard it.

He turned around, his breath catching in his throat.

There stood Ryoji, barely half a meter behind him, clad in a navy blue jacket and black jeans. His hair was shorter, his face slightly more angular, and he appeared thinner. But there was no mistaking him. Ryoji Fujiwara. His boyfriend.

He blinked, trying to convince himself that this wasn't a dream.

"It's me," said Ryoji. "Seiji."

Seiji Fujiwara.

It took him a moment to grasp what he was seeing. This wasn't Ryoji, but Seiji, his younger brother. A wave of disappointment washed over him.

"I thought you..." He wiped his tears. "Sorry, I mean, you look a lot like—"

"I know. Like my brother," Seiji said, his voice cracking. No longer the carefree boy who once roamed with a Shikoku dog the size of a bear. "Everyone says so."

He bowed slightly, and Seiji returned the gesture.

The striking resemblance between Seiji and Ryoji tugged at his heartstrings. They were like twins. But he reminded himself that Ryoji couldn't possibly come back – this was Seiji, his younger brother, despite the uncanny resemblance.

"You still remember me?" he asked.

Seiji nodded.

"How old are you now?"

"Seventeen," Seiji replied, approaching and pointing at the bouquet of flowers placed on Ryoji's grave. "You always comes here every year, don't you, Takkun?"

He nodded. "Did you know?"

"Yes," said Seiji. "I've been trying to reach out to you for the past five years. But after that night you disappeared I couldn't find you anywhere."

"If you were in my shoes, you'd disappear too."

"I understand that when I saw that your family also left Misawa," Seiji said. His eyes were brown, but lighter, not the deep coffee brown of Ryoji's. "That's why I'm puzzled. I come here every year on the day my brother left and always find a bouquet like this."

"Seiji-kun, I'm sorry. It's not like I meant to avoid you or anything."

"I know those flowers are from you," Seiji spoke calmly. "White chrysanthemums. A large bouquet, always piled up on the grave. It's the same every year, on the day my brother left. Not many people visit his grave besides me, Dad, and Mom. So whoever brings those flowers regularly and in such abundance must really care about my brother. I've been trying to meet you, Takkun, but every time I come here, you're already gone."

He could only close my eyes. "Seiji, I know this might sound strange, but..."

"You really loved my brother, didn't you?"

There was nothing left to hide. Seiji was old enough to understand.

"I'm sorry, I can't attend the memorial service." Tears welled up on his eyes again. "I wanted to, really. But my father forbade me. He beat me mercilessly. I was locked in my room all day. I pounded on the door until my hands bled and my nuckles cracked."

"I already know," Seiji said. "Your mother came alone to the service, but Mom and Dad were distant. I think it's because Jin-san reported the incident in the parking lot to them. Dad suspected that my brother's injury was caused by your father in the changing room, but the doctors said it was from a fall."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, feeling embarrassed. "My father loses his temper easily."

"I understand why your father reacted like that," Seiji said. "Mom and Dad were upset too about my brother, but they couldn't show it. When Jin's family came to pay their respects, Mom and Dad were so ashamed they couldn't even look the Tsubakis in the eye, knowing Jin-san witnessed everything."

"I apologize once again."

"No need," Seiji said softly. "There's nothing to forgive. Besides, it all happened five years ago."

"Can you... tell me what happened?" He needed to know. For five years, he had tried to piece together Ryoji's final moments. "How... did it happen?"

Seiji was silent for a moment, studying hims as if to gauge my strength.

"After the fall, my brother was bleeding from his head," Seiji began. "Jin-san and I were with him before Mom and Dad arrived. We didn't know then that there was bleeding in his brain. He was conscious for a few hours before slipped into a coma. He should have surgery, but the nearest brain surgeon was in Sapporo. With heavy snowfall that night, all flights were grounded until morning. My brother passed away before midnight."

Cerebral hemorrhage.

He clutched his chest, feeling it tighten. So that was how Ryoji died. Ryoji lost his life because of that fall, chasing after him.

Ryoji.

His voice, his smile, his touch. His hugs, his attention, the color of his eyes. His expression when teased, his promise of traveling to Mallorca in Europe together...

Memories flooded Takeru's mind like a typhoon. Ryoji lay in a coma for hours while he endured his father's abuse and attempted to escape. The mere two-kilometer distance from his house, a place of torment, to the hospital where Ryoji lay felt as vast as a galaxy. In his final moments, he couldn't be there for him. He couldn't keep their promise. The circumstances that tore them apart were unbearably cruel.

Seiji placed a comforting hand on his shaking shoulder as he sobbed. He would give anything to turn back time, to be by Ryoji's side. To hold his hand as consciousness slipped away, to whisper in his ear that he'd always be waiting for him at the rink. That he loved him. That Ryoji was the first person he truly loved with all of his heart. That he'd never forget him for as long as he lived. That Ryoji was irreplaceable.

"Takkun," Seiji held his trembling body. "Before he slipped into a coma, my brother left something for me to give to you."

"A gift from Ryoji? For me?"

Seiji nodded. "He asked me to give you this..."

And then, suddenly, the boy pulled him into a tight embrace.

"My brother said: 'I'm happiest when I'm with you....'"

He didn't hear Seiji's voice, but Ryoji's. It was as if Ryoji was whispering directly into his ear.

"'And I know that I have made you happy too. Maybe our relationship feels strange and confusing, but what matters most to me is that we are both very happy when we are together. Therefore, if something happens to me tonight, I want you to keep trying to find your own happiness. You must remain happy, even without me by your side. And always remember, that I love you, both in this world, and in the next life. I love you forever.'"

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he embraced Ryoji tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. "I love you, Ryoji. I really love you."

It felt as though time stood still. His body felt weightless. This final gift from Ryoji changed everything. All the regret he felt about their tragic breakup dissolved in that moment. Their relationship had been short, just three years, but they were the happiest three years of their lives. Ryoji had brought him happiness, and he felt that he had done the same for Ryoji. They had both strived to find their own happiness – a happiness deemed taboo, forbidden, and reprehensible – in a world that offered no acceptance.

Seiji allowed him to hold onto him for as long as he needed. He knew how much it meant to him. Tears stained Seiji's jacket, but his embrace remained steadfast.

For him, it was more than enough. He finally felt at peace.

Taking a deep breath, he released his hold. "Thank you, Seiji."

"You're welcome."

"Does this mean that you already knows that your brother... that he—"

"Ever loved someone with all his heart?" continued Seiji, his smile broadening. "Yes, I've noticed that you had shared something really special with my brother. When we were in Sapporo, all he thought about was ice hockey. My brother was so obsessed with that sport that he could sometimes be a bit cruel to other people."

As he reflected on Seiji's words, Takeru realized their truth. He remembered the instances when Ryoji selflessly showed his love for him – passing on all the chocolates he received on Valentine's Day, enduring punishment from Coach Yamada to protect him, braving the snowstorm to apologize after their argument, and prioritizing his safety over winning in their last match. Whenever they were together, Ryoji's attention was solely on him, even to the point of neglecting his own well-being.

For Ryoji, he was the center of the universe.

Ryoji didn't just love him. He loved him too deeply.

It all made sense now.

"After getting to know you, my brother changed," Seiji continued. "I saw a gentle and warm nature in him that he had never shown to anyone, not even to us as his family. He became friendlier towards us, but he still had his moments with Jin-san. You had made my brother care about others. And as he told me directly that night, he was happy when he was with you. As his younger brother, I couldn't be happier to know that. So I want to thank you for making my brother happy and above all, thank you for letting him love his heart's choice."

Ryoji had pierced through the thick ice wall he had built around himself, revealing the beauty of the world outside. For five years without Ryoji, Takeru had tried to avoid that world because it felt unfamiliar, hostile, and painful and he decided to retreat behind his icy barrier once more. But now, he had the strength to shatter that wall of ice for good. As Ryoji had said, happiness awaited him beyond those walls. Ryoji's love had given him the courage to step out again. He was certain he could find that happiness once more.

"You are welcome, Seiji. Your brother changed me too."

He bowed deeply, but Seiji stopped him. Extending his hand, Seiji invited him to shake hands instead. He embraced it.

"I guess I'll see you later, Takkun," Seiji flashed him a warm smile, reminiscent of Ryoji's. "Take care and be happy."

https://youtu.be/NIXRir00IXk

Colorless - Taichi Mukai