Going Home
(AU is modeled after Ray Bradbury's The Martian Chronicles.)
"Remember," says a voice soft and low, just around the corner. It's Machida's voice - Ryouta knows it well, just as he knows everything that's associated with Yara, even though the concept of speaking out loud is still foreign to Ryouta. "Remember, Yara. Remember how green the trees were in the summers out of the city. Remember the humidity, the sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin, nothing like the dry heat of the atmosphere here. Remember the popsicles that stained your tongue orange purple red. Remember eating sashimi, scraped fresh off the back of a big red tuna fish, with a dollop of wasabi that burned all the way up your nose. Remember the ceaseless chirping of the cicadas, the baying of the neighborhood dogs, the rumble of traffic in the city, the subtle hum of electricity, the jangle of your phone's ring tone. Remember the sea. Remember how much you loved the water. Remember, Yara."
"I remember," says Yara, in a voice even softer and lower. Ryouta would have missed it if it had been anyone else speaking but his body is so adjusted to Yara that he hears it as clear as though the man were standing right next to him.
"I remember," says Yara again. "I remember. But there are memories that I've made here, also. Things I've loved here."
Even without reading Yara's thoughts that drift through the air, Ryouta knows that Yara is talking about him. There's that tone that's always present in Yara's voice when he speaks to and about Ryouta. He's sure of it, because tone and nuance are the only things he understands about human speech, and the assurance of what Yara is saying sends a happy glow of warmth through his body. Yara's made memories with him, Yara's loved him!
It's quiet for a moment. Then the loud, clomping, reverberating sound that Ryouta's come to know as the sound of the humans' footwear against the ground breaks through his happy thoughts.
"The ship leaves tomorrow morning," another voice around the corner says. Yonehana. "It's the last one going back to Earth, Yara. We've lingered as long as we can here. If you're not on board tomorrow..."
The unspoken "but" lingers, making the Martian air heavy with its implications. Ryouta can feel all the potentials whisper against his bare arms, carried to him on a draft of air. Images of loneliness, desolation, corruption appear to his inner eye - what if Yara's eyes start to turn yellow and his skin red, like the natives? Ryouta wonders if Yara can read the atmosphere as well, with his delicate but strangely insensitive human skin.
"Come home with us," Yonehana urges. "Doors are closing at 9:42, takeoff at 10:00 sharp. Home, Yara!" Yonehana's voice is bursting with excitement, "We're going home!"
"Kou-chan said he's expecting you," Machida adds. The name sends anxiety slicing through Ryouta. This "Kou-chan" is their captain, and despite the diminutive nickname the men speak of him with reverence and obedience. Ryouta knows the men are all willing to lay down their lives to do his bidding.
He doesn't stay to hear Yara's answer.
~
He doesn't go to see the rocket ship take off.
Everyone goes to see the men leave. His father and mother take his brother and a big satchel of flatbread, their contribution to the communal feast in commemoration of the departure of man. His friends are there too - Shota had poked a long rock through his bedroom window to wake him earlier, but Ryouta had only rolled over and pulled his blanket over his head, ignoring him.
He sits by himself now, in the shade of the big yellow diderot rock behind his house, trying to not listen to the roar of the rocket as it burns across the sky. He tries not to imagine how Earth might look like, or think of Yara making his home once again on the blue-green planet of Earth.
The images spring to mind anyway. Images of creatures he's never seen: blond and beige four-legged creatures with fur, silver birds flying through a deep blue sky underfoot (Not the sky but the sea, he reminds himself, and fish. Yara taught him that already.), a gray and white creature with no legs called a chura. People who look like Yara but aren't him-women who share his laughing eyes, a man with his nose and chin-Yara's family.
"Reading my mind again?"
Ryouta almost hits his head against the rock, jumping up in shock at Yara's voice.
'What are you doing here!' he screams silently. 'Why aren't you on the rocket ship going home! It's your last chance to go home, idiot! You're disobeying your captain!' But it's still a struggle to speak words aloud even when he's calm and focused, so Ryouta can only look at Yara with his heart in his eyes and his nails digging into his palms in disbelief.
"Did you think I would leave?" Yara's smile is soft, so soft that it's present more in his eyes than the barely noticeable curve of his lips. "I couldn't leave you, you know."
~
Ryouta leans against Yara now, instead of the rock, and together they watch as the rocket ship disappears into the stratosphere.
"Remember," says a voice soft and low, just around the corner. It's Machida's voice - Ryouta knows it well, just as he knows everything that's associated with Yara, even though the concept of speaking out loud is still foreign to Ryouta. "Remember, Yara. Remember how green the trees were in the summers out of the city. Remember the humidity, the sweat that made your clothes stick to your skin, nothing like the dry heat of the atmosphere here. Remember the popsicles that stained your tongue orange purple red. Remember eating sashimi, scraped fresh off the back of a big red tuna fish, with a dollop of wasabi that burned all the way up your nose. Remember the ceaseless chirping of the cicadas, the baying of the neighborhood dogs, the rumble of traffic in the city, the subtle hum of electricity, the jangle of your phone's ring tone. Remember the sea. Remember how much you loved the water. Remember, Yara."
"I remember," says Yara, in a voice even softer and lower. Ryouta would have missed it if it had been anyone else speaking but his body is so adjusted to Yara that he hears it as clear as though the man were standing right next to him.
"I remember," says Yara again. "I remember. But there are memories that I've made here, also. Things I've loved here."
Even without reading Yara's thoughts that drift through the air, Ryouta knows that Yara is talking about him. There's that tone that's always present in Yara's voice when he speaks to and about Ryouta. He's sure of it, because tone and nuance are the only things he understands about human speech, and the assurance of what Yara is saying sends a happy glow of warmth through his body. Yara's made memories with him, Yara's loved him!
It's quiet for a moment. Then the loud, clomping, reverberating sound that Ryouta's come to know as the sound of the humans' footwear against the ground breaks through his happy thoughts.
"The ship leaves tomorrow morning," another voice around the corner says. Yonehana. "It's the last one going back to Earth, Yara. We've lingered as long as we can here. If you're not on board tomorrow..."
The unspoken "but" lingers, making the Martian air heavy with its implications. Ryouta can feel all the potentials whisper against his bare arms, carried to him on a draft of air. Images of loneliness, desolation, corruption appear to his inner eye - what if Yara's eyes start to turn yellow and his skin red, like the natives? Ryouta wonders if Yara can read the atmosphere as well, with his delicate but strangely insensitive human skin.
"Come home with us," Yonehana urges. "Doors are closing at 9:42, takeoff at 10:00 sharp. Home, Yara!" Yonehana's voice is bursting with excitement, "We're going home!"
"Kou-chan said he's expecting you," Machida adds. The name sends anxiety slicing through Ryouta. This "Kou-chan" is their captain, and despite the diminutive nickname the men speak of him with reverence and obedience. Ryouta knows the men are all willing to lay down their lives to do his bidding.
He doesn't stay to hear Yara's answer.
~
He doesn't go to see the rocket ship take off.
Everyone goes to see the men leave. His father and mother take his brother and a big satchel of flatbread, their contribution to the communal feast in commemoration of the departure of man. His friends are there too - Shota had poked a long rock through his bedroom window to wake him earlier, but Ryouta had only rolled over and pulled his blanket over his head, ignoring him.
He sits by himself now, in the shade of the big yellow diderot rock behind his house, trying to not listen to the roar of the rocket as it burns across the sky. He tries not to imagine how Earth might look like, or think of Yara making his home once again on the blue-green planet of Earth.
The images spring to mind anyway. Images of creatures he's never seen: blond and beige four-legged creatures with fur, silver birds flying through a deep blue sky underfoot (Not the sky but the sea, he reminds himself, and fish. Yara taught him that already.), a gray and white creature with no legs called a chura. People who look like Yara but aren't him-women who share his laughing eyes, a man with his nose and chin-Yara's family.
"Reading my mind again?"
Ryouta almost hits his head against the rock, jumping up in shock at Yara's voice.
'What are you doing here!' he screams silently. 'Why aren't you on the rocket ship going home! It's your last chance to go home, idiot! You're disobeying your captain!' But it's still a struggle to speak words aloud even when he's calm and focused, so Ryouta can only look at Yara with his heart in his eyes and his nails digging into his palms in disbelief.
"Did you think I would leave?" Yara's smile is soft, so soft that it's present more in his eyes than the barely noticeable curve of his lips. "I couldn't leave you, you know."
~
Ryouta leans against Yara now, instead of the rock, and together they watch as the rocket ship disappears into the stratosphere.