The Star's Swan Song

Shimokawa's sublimity, despite the reverie from Dr. Schneider and even the feisty Dr. Asakura, seemed to do an injustice to this remote town. Draped under the frosted veil, the amber hue glimmered, twinkling briefly through the meandering ice petals, giving a semblance of warmth. The brickwork lane curved through the narrow pass leading towards a lantern-lit avenue, where their inn sat comfortably between buildings.

The torrential breeze sliced past his exposed face, making Anu shiver more as his nose turned scarlet. He held a sneeze. The driver from before was kind enough to carry their luggage as Ayano led the way. Anu wasn’t involved with the booking, so he wasn’t aware of the workings of the town or how to get the guide they would require for the trek tomorrow. That was all Ayano's domain. But today he felt the urge to help.

As he stepped into the avenue, a lavender-scented chestnut muffler snaked over his face before resting around his neck. His vision was briefly obstructed, but the aegis it provided from the cold made up for that.

“Merry Christmas,” Ayano wished with a warm smile, her knit covered fingers gently tucked a fabric over his cheeks. “I couldn’t complete it last year. So I was hoping to give it to you this year. I am glad I made it in time.”

“You really didn’t have to…” he murmured, yet relished the prize.

“I wanted to,” she shrugged and gestured for the driver to enter the wayside lodge. “For myself at least.”

“Thank you,” he nodded, gazing at the dark clouds above.

“You don’t have to,” Ayano started walking. “Like I said, I did it for myself and no one else.”

“Despite our short notice, the guide has decided to take us to the cavern tomorrow morning.” Ayano briefed him as they sat within their homestead. Anu was expecting a more humble office hotel, but Ayano yet again surprised him with her choices. Not only was this settlement economic, barely five thousand yen for the night, but also cosy and extravagant.

“Did the local authority question our arrival?” he asked cautiously as he sat on his bed on the floor above.

“No,” she sighed. “They treated it as a routine check-in. Aomori san was kind enough to provide us with experienced trekkers to help carry our gear.”

“I see,” he took a breath of relief. Director Okinomiya, once his mind was made, was persistent. He would make sure all ends are taken care of. Thus, the lax approach here didn't make sense, but he was still grateful for it.

“It's Christmas, Anu,” Ayano replied as if reading his mind. “Director Okinomiya won’t be sending mails to authorities. He wouldn't even imagine you being here right now.”

“Why? I have always been particular about my work.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” She scoffed. “This is your first time rebelling. You never break the rules, even at the expense of your own good or others.”

That night, Anu could barely sleep, his mind racing with the myriad possibilities of how the Hokkaido Shinyobun would unravel once he deciphered it. His mind flashed the strokes of each character, tussling them together into a foreign symbol. It lacked rhyme or reason, but a semblance of logic was found if he used Ayano’s theory of sound.

‘Aa’, the first symbol, in the three-layered composite came together. His head was pressed against the gabled window adjacent to his bed. The cottage was located at a slightly higher ground than the rest of the town, giving him a good vantage point to bask in the frozen borough’s magic.

Clouds of obsidian swivelled upwards in a crescent from the brick-paved chimneys; there was a faint sound of choir, laughter of kids, proclamation of adults - drunk or sober - as they all basked in the festivity. Anu has never been one to feel isolated by such moments, as long as it was history or scripts he could pass by, but his chest felt constrained today.

He hesitantly brought out his phone and pulled up the call directory. His gaze paused briefly over his mother's number as his finger hovered over it. He wanted to wish her, check on her, and maybe tell her about his rebellion.

His breath hitched, the outside whistled with a rumble as the dusky sky illuminated into trails of colors, each more vibrant than the last.

“Can’t sleep?” Ayano said quietly as she peeked up from the stairs. Her hair was open, her face was awashed in the amber hue from the bedside portable lamp below.

Anu startled, hid his phone and turned, “No…”

“Sorry to startle you,” she replied with a gentle hum. Anu could hear her slow steps as she came up the stairs and walked over to where he was sitting on the bed. She scooched closer, her back pressed against his.

“I brought some cake for you,” she passed a red velvet box towards his side. “It’s already past midnight. But it won’t hurt to celebrate now either.”

Anu’s lips parted slightly before shutting again. And then after a brooding pause, he mumbled: “You didn’t have to…”

“I didn’t,” she agreed. “But I wanted to.”

“Is this why you were late in the morning?” he inquired.

“Baking was harder than I expected,” said Ayano. “It took me multiple tries before I could get this one to edible standards.”

Anu flashed her a small smile. His first one, towards her, in months.

“Don’t stay up too late,” she said as she got up. There was a lot he wanted to convey, and she did as well. But caged in their own isolation, the scholars had drifted apart.

“I won’t.”

“Good.”

Ayano stood up, her silhouette briefly paused over in the dark. Anu could see the amber glisten within her magenta eyes; there was a redness around them. Her lips parted again, but closed soon after.

They were both hesitant.

“I will head to bed then,” she said after a long pause.

“... Me too.”

“See you tomorrow?”

Anu gave her a nod.

“Good night.”

“You too.”

It wasn’t until an hour later that he took a bite of the cake; it was too sweet with bitterness at the edges. The texture was coarse, and his tongue scraped quite a bit. But at that moment, he had no complaints. In that instance, under the shroud of the mistfallen night and shrouded tears, that cake was all the solace he needed.

Shinyobun Cavern was not only excruciatingly nestled in remote recesses of Mt. Daisetsuzan, but also infested with fauna that Anu wasn’t quite equipped to handle. The treacherous earthen trail snaked past the frozen stream as the coniferous tree shuddered in its cystic stupor. His muscles protested with every other step he took, and his chest screamed out of breath. Still he persisted.

“We have been walking for five hours, Anu. Let’s take a break,” Ayano suggested from behind, her voice a bit tight due to her breathlessness as well. Since morning, she had been coordinating with the guide and the trifecta of experienced Japanese trekkers who carried their equipment.

“It’s hardly a few more kilometres, right?” He pointed at the final climb over the elevated trail ahead.

“That is true, but,” she peeked over his shoulder and gestured towards their guide. He was an elderly man with wrinkled skin and grey hair. And despite his proactiveness and athletic build, five hours of elevated walking in an extremity like this wasn’t something they should be making that man go through.

“He should be able to manage,” Anu huffed, bringing out the paper map Ayano had given him at dawn. His fingers hovered over the red circle in the northern sector, which was where the cavern was.

“Anu,” she said, her sharp tone cutting through the air, and shook her head. “No.”

“But we are so close.” Anu’s jaw tightened. “Just a few more steps and-”

“No. And that’s final.” She turned around with her bag bouncing as she walked towards the guide.

The trifecta and the guide joyously took up Ayano’s offer, much to Anu's dismay. They even set up a makeshift camp. He sighed as he sat in the Quinzhee. Fire cackled by his side as Ayano and the elderly guide prepared lunch. It was turning out to be a family camping trip rather than an archaeological expedition.

Anu glared at the tattered pages of the dossier, his gaze cast over the abnormal sightings reports. There were pictures attached in this section, one showcasing glimpses of magenta-blue colored translucent swarms of butterflies drifting over the cavern's entrance. The report also mentioned that these species had a special ability to produce pulsating bluish hues, similar to fireflies.

“Dr. Asakura would never stop babbling about fauna’s involvement with the discovery of this cavern,” Ayano scooted over to his side with a pair of dented cups in her hand. It had wisps of fumes lightly trailing upwards as she passed one to Anu. “It was ironic how even the butterflies connected to this site-” she tapped at the picture. “-are as enigmatic and ethereal as the place itself. It feels otherworldly.”

Anu accepted the cup despite his displeasure with this break. “Biologists who have been studying them would beg to differ.”

“You think so?” She tilted her head, shooting him a side glance. “Because last time I checked with the Faculty of Sciences in Todai, they were ecstatic about discovering pigments within the wings that were never seen before.”

“Isn’t that normal with science?” Anu replied, sipping on his soup. “They discover something new daily, but that doesn’t mean it is otherworldly.”

“Why not? If the elements and property they carry defy what we know,” said Ayano. “And the fact that their existence was veiled in obscurity for so long. Doesn’t all of it signal towards something arcane?”

“Again, Dr. Inoue, history is built on facts, and otherworldly isn’t one of them.”

“History is also built on myths,” she argued. “Out of which many borrow their semblance from reality. We dub them as fiction because we can’t prove otherwise.”

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? If it can’t be proven, it isn’t true.”

“Debunking something due to lack of proof is like criticising something that has yet to leave its infancy,” Ayano's brows furrowed. “It is traversing over at the edge of absolutism. And we both know that it has no place in research.”

“Are you angry about my behaviour towards the elderly?” he blurted out.

“Excuse me?”

“See, I am sorry, okay? I am being impatient, but if you haven’t noticed-”

“Can you grow up already?” Ayano interrupted, her jaw clenched.

“Huh?”

“Not everything in the world is about you, Anutapura Sisodiya,” Ayano stood up, abruptly ending their conversation. “And as for your question, no, I am not mad. I was just slightly disappointed-” she paused, gazing at the scribbled symbol over the empty spaces in the report. “-despite all the good within, you still choose to act this way.”

Neither talked until they reached the cavern. Anu, due to his petty pride and a fragile ego, while Ayano, because of a wounded heart. Words hung between them, neither of them strong enough to speak. The choices made will weigh on both forever, and for Anu, even more so.