Too cruel, to have even this glimpse of what could have been, then to render it impossible.
Or maybe this is all in my head. Maybe he’s had scores of lovers over the years who’ve lived and died while he continues on unaffected, and I’m making more of it than it is. But I don’t think so.
How can I possibly move us past this without him taking it as a rejection I don’t mean? I can’t just keep sitting here—
“As completist as you are about traditional fashion, I’m surprised you’re not wearing a kimono,” I say.
Not a perfect effort, but my emotions are a mess and it’s what I’ve got.
“I like kimono perfectly well, but they’re too hot this season,” Nariel says easily.Soeasily.
Shit,didI offend him? Or is he fine giving me space?
I ought to just ask, but I’m afraid the answer will tell me something I’m better off not acknowledging.
I sigh exaggeratedly. “What a missed photo opportunity.”
This, I’m not even joking about. Nariel dressed in a kimono like a goddamn samurai would besohot.
Maybe this is for the best.
“Perhaps another time, then,” Nariel says.
My throat tightens.
Enough.
I get to my feet and hold out a hand. “Shall we continue?”
He takes it and gracefully gets to his feet. The shadows seem to flicker around him. “It would be my pleasure.”
So we do Tanabata.
I make Nariel try shaved ice, which I’m unable to determine if he really hasn’t had before or if he’s just enjoying my insistence about proper festivity.
Nariel showed me something special in Costa Rica. I want one night with him to dream, and to remember what I’m doing all this for.
We walk hand in hand through an arch of lights, and I cast a small spell to add magic to it, letting the lights swirl around as people laugh and marvel, not realizing it isn’t a technical feat. We pass lanterns that I turn different colors and Nariel makes shadowy figures through them like a play. There’s enough magic we can both spend it on small things like this frivolously and just enjoy it. We can let people see magic in a way that is all delight, celebrating through it like it’s just part of the background for the night.
This is the world I’ve always wanted, and for one night, I can let myself have it.
As we prepare our wishes on paper strips, I’m tempted to write “more time.” But instead I write what I always write: “magic.”
Nariel seems to sense something and tells me, “You’ll have more nights like this.”
I don’t answer, even though I can feel his attention sharpening on me, no doubt realizing there’s something I’m not telling him, because whatever Nariel is, stupid he isn’t.
I steel my resolve for what I promised myself I would do, the only possible choice I can make and not betray who I am.
That, I will never do.
I tie my wish on the bamboo.
And then this time it’s Nariel who leads me back into the starry night and all its magic, as if determined to remind me what there is to live for.
The next day starts early. We eat breakfast at the ryokan and then head to the train station.
Today I’m in shorts and a loose top—red, for boldness, and black, because I’ve become weirdly sentimental about matching Nariel even if he’s never noticed—because today I have a job to do that involves physical activity and probably dodging bolts of magic.
