Entry H1: The Kebab

Those who have few choices become hopeless about their freedom, but with the right push, some will fight back. Takaki was one such awesome case. Abandoning his needy mother to move in with his aunt and uncle in a seaside town.

He had longed for the ocean for a while now, so this was a chance for him to live in his dream home and gain independence. After all, he was already seventeen, preparing for his university entrance exams, looking forward to the rest of his life.

There was one thing he got wrong. The ocean will never be the freedom he sought; it has always been suffocating and crushing. Granted, believing in lies is also part of the freedom of humankind. Too much freedom is never enough, but I digress.

Takaki's aunt and uncle ran the local post office, so Takaki was inevitably roped into the dull role of a delivery boy. He didn’t mind helping, as it gave him a sense that he was a responsible adult.

His uncle was obsessed with roasting kebab meat in the Middle Eastern style, so Takaki often got to taste the delectable product, wrapped with fresh veggies, always alluring and mouthwatering. His aunt often complained about Takaki’s unstable meal schedule, thanks to the kebabs given by the uncle at irregular times.

To that, the uncle could only respond with a nervous laugh. “I can’t stop being inspired,” he said.

***

On the momentous day, Takaki again had a kebab wrap tucked in a lunchbox. The box served as the base in his crossbody bag; piled on top were the letters and packages he had to deliver today. He cycled through the open air; the breeze patting his face and ruffling his black hair, balancing himself while taking in the liberating speed. Meanwhile, the ocean lurked beside the road, the unreasonable waves demanding sacrifices.

It took around half an hour (breaks counted) to get to the hospital, that white block of imposing presence rearing from the side of a hill, chunkier than the other nearby buildings. Having come from a more urbanized area, Takaki didn’t bat an eye at such an out-of-place structure. Rather, it felt familiar to him compared to the surrounding foliage and compact constructions.

The bustling city was much grander than this humble town. However, the glorious skyscrapers were also oppressive iron bars that had caged Takaki in.

The delivery was straightforward, bland like any other. The hospital receptionist recognized Takaki, so he even saved the effort of explaining who he was. He only had to empty the contents of his bag, excluding the lunchbox, onto the desk. And his job was done here.

He checked his phone for the time: a few minutes until one o’clock. Remembering his aunt’s nagging, he chose a bench in the hospital courtyard to sit on, somewhere he could enjoy his lunch in peace.

The grass blended with the flower beds to produce a revitalizing sight. A few patients were roaming about, and a couple of staff members occasionally cut across in a hurry. Nothing here was too distracting. The unfettered gust carried a salty smell from the ocean, leading his mind away from the permeating sterilized ambience. A perfect place for a meal.

Just as he unraveled the aluminum wrapping to expose the pita bread, a muted voice called out to him, barely loud enough to reach his ears. “Hey, you there. Can you spare a bite? I’m starving.”

Takaki traced the source of the voice. Crouching behind a bush, back leaning against the building wall, a girl reached out her hand, as if Takaki had already agreed to share. She had a pointy face draped with dark blue locks of hair; dark gray, baggy clothes obscured her body size; a glimmer in her green eyes that spoke of ambition and energy.

It took a second for Takaki to register what she said. “Do I know you?”

The girl, two years younger than him, extended her hand even closer to him, but at least she offered her name. “I am Hiromi; the Hiro is the kanji for ‘generous’, and the mi is the kanji for ‘to bear fruit’. Now, can you give it to me?”

“It’s my lunch!” He noted to himself the irony of her name in this situation.

“What’s your name? Can’t you tell me that?”

Before Takaki could respond, Hiromi’s hand lunged at the kebab, but Takaki moved the lunchbox away in time. He wondered if her question was a mere diversion, but for politeness’ sake, he still answered. “My name is Takaki. The Taka is the kanji from… from ‘filial piety’, and the Aki is the kanji from ‘bright’. Nice to meet you?”

“Now… we are basically… friends…” Hiromi spoke while attempting to snatch Takaki’s lunch. Takaki managed to evade her attacks well at first, but as her jabs became more ferocious, his hand slipped, and the lunchbox dropped, spattering the kebab, disassembled, on the hungry soil.

Takaki stared at his dead lunch, baffled about how to react. The situation was too bizarre for him, but his stomach knew what was up and interrupted the frozen moment with a frustrated growl.

The sound pulled the two of them out of their shock. Hiromi acted first; she prostrated herself immediately. “I’m so sorry. I was just so hungry. I wasn’t thinking. I… I just wanted something to eat…” Her stomach corroborated her story with its own grumble.

Any seed of anger in Takaki drained at once, replaced by a turbulent sense of panic. He never had anyone prostrate themselves to him before, and for his first to be such a cute girl, sentences became jumbled in his throat.

“Um… I… You… Well… Thanks… Thanks for the meal!” he blurted out, and right afterwards, red rushed onto his cheeks. He desperately wanted time to rewind, which made no sense, for it was his choice to say those words.

Hiromi looked up at Takaki from the floor, and a chuckle broke out. The serious scene from seconds ago was nowhere to be seen.

There was still repenting work to be done for Hiromi. With the help of the paper wrapping, she scooped up the dismantled remains of the kebab, at least the larger pieces, and dropped them onto the lunchbox.

As Takaki watched her work, his mind naturally labeled her actions as counterproductive. Because the stowaway dirt would just make cleaning out the box that much more arduous. Although it was futile, his azure eyes quietly held onto her and her quiet motions.

“I’ll treat you to something,” Hiromi said as she finished her duty by clicking the lid shut. Some specks of food still lingered among the flowers, but nature would take care of them. Takaki tilted his head, not comprehending her suggestion.

“I’m talking about the festival. Let’s go to the festival.”

Takaki nodded with a stiff expression. His heart clung to the confusion. Hiromi’s smile, it did something to him, something that spurred an unknown feeling.

***

“Why can’t we ride on the bike together? There are two seats!” Hiromi bundled her complaint with a pout. They were trailing along the road near the shoreline. Takaki pushed his trusty vehicle along, keeping it away from Hiromi. She had been eyeing the bike with a devious gaze for a while already.

“It’s against the law.”

“The law was changed in 2023.”

Takaki racked his brain for a better argument. “I don’t like other people on my bike.” A childish point, but an irrefutable one.

“Fair enough.”

Takaki stopped. He narrowed his eyes. “Are you giving up this easily?”

Hiromi took a few more steps forward before turning around; the streak of blue on her head whipped in sync. A sly smile grew on her face as she bent forward a little. “Oh? Playing hard to get? So, you’re a tsundere.”

“There’s nothing ‘dere’ about me.” Takaki felt the urge to protest, but that didn’t distract him from the warmth in his chest.

“You’re smiling. Aha! I knew it! You ARE a tsundere!”

Takaki touched his mouth to confirm it. Hiromi was right. He tried to recall the last time he had enjoyed himself this much. Maybe the day he left his mother. His mother…

I wonder how Oka-san is holding up nowadays.

“Hey! The stalls are gonna close at this rate!” Hiromi was already a greater distance ahead, with the interference of the ocean gale dampening her voice. Takaki shook off his thoughts. He had decided to commit to the path he took.

With a deep breath, he yelled back. “Coming!” And started chasing the shade that Hiromi cast on the ground.

Hiromi was so wrong about the stalls. There was scarcely a hint of festivity at the plaza. The simple aluminum frames with plastic canopies had settled in lines, but only a few had people inside setting up. Upon asking a friendly-looking middle-aged man with a mohawk too stylish for his age, the duo learned that the festival wouldn’t start until four. They had around two and a half hours to spare, but it would be a challenge for their empty bellies to stand even five more minutes.

Luckily for them, there was a restaurant nearby. Small and cozy, designed to be a stopover for travelers. Takaki felt saliva building in his mouth just from the smell of the umami broth.

They picked the table closest to the door, unable to wait another second before ordering. “Wait.” Hiromi grabbed Takaki's wrist right before he was about to raise his hand.

Takaki almost yanked his arm away out of annoyance, but he took a deep breath and entertained her disruption. “You can take your time. I know what I’ll order already. Can you please let go now?”

“I’m thinking we should order an extra-large bowl and share. That way, we can leave some space for festival snacks.”

Takaki’s mind froze at the word ‘share’. By the time he recovered, he found that his mouth was already agape.

“Hello? Should I order now? How does an extra-large tonkotsu sound?” Hiromi waved her hand in front of Takaki. Not getting a response, she gave up after a mere five seconds and turned to the shopkeeper.

“No. Don’t.” This time, Takaki stopped Hiromi.

“Don’t? Why?”

“Because if we share, that would be… that would be in… in…” He wanted to say ‘indirectly kissing’, but the phrase couldn’t come out.

“Oh, you’re worried about how we will split the bill. I’m treating you, remember?”

Takaki kept his silence, and Hiromi took it as agreement. Before he could continue his protest, the shopkeeper acknowledged Hiromi’s order.

Takaki slumped onto the table, wanting to clear the awkwardness with something. Anything. “Why were you at the hospital?”

Hiromi tapped her lip with her finger. “That’s a secret.”

Danger abounded, as that gesture directed Takaki’s gaze to her lips. Those pink lips that looked so… soft and warm. What if…

“I was delivering packages!” Takaki exclaimed before he could finish his thought.

“Glad to know you are so passionate about your work. Oh, wait. Are you still working? Did I tempt you to play hooky?” There was no remorse on her face, but an impish smile, like a demoness who had successfully corrupted another soul.

“I’m just working for my uncle. You don’t have to worry. I texted him, and he gave me permission to take the afternoon off.”

“Fufu. Who said I’m worried? I’m a bad girl.”

“A bad girl wouldn’t pick up food she spilled.” Takaki found himself clapping back, something he normally wouldn’t do.

Hiromi displayed her pout again. Takaki’s heart secretly soared; this expression of hers radiated a sense of charm to him, and it was precious enough to make all his troubles worth it, all his adversity meaningful. But it was not enough to wash his truth away.

“You’re not a bad girl. Not if you’re like me. I’m the real bad person here.” Takaki didn’t think it was self-loathing or an exaggeration.

It started with adrenaline rushing as he thought about his mother’s erratic whims; her repeated questions buzzed in his head, those concerning whether she should contact his father again, the man whose wrath and violence she… they took so much pain to escape.

His chest tensed up when his train of reflection reached this point; he remembered the careless insults he had thrown at his mother before leaving their home.

Worthless self-blame brewed within, but its progress was swiftly severed by the girl across from him. “Oh, you’re underestimating how hard it is to be a bad boy, Ta-kun.”

Another jolt to his heart, but different from the bitter flame from a moment ago. He noted to himself how bad this girl must be for his health. “Ta-kun? Why… why are you acting so familiar with me already?”

“Fufu, you’re blushing. And you didn’t tell me your family name. I have no choice but to call you this.”

Because you didn’t tell me yours! This thought remained a thought, since Takaki didn’t actually mind the cute nickname. He was just speaking out of formality, but even this trivial formality, he wanted to drop it for her. All so they could feel closer together.

Still, he had to think of a reply. He wouldn’t want to leave Hiromi hanging, ever.

That was when a bowl of tonkotsu landed between them.

“Ooooh. This looks so delicious.” Hiromi’s eyes were practically glowing. Takaki wanted to ask for a separate bowl to split the food, but Hiromi already clamped onto a piece of pork with her chopsticks and steadily carried the meat to Takaki’s mouth.

“Open wide,” she said.

As if by instinct, Takaki obeyed with no complaints. But he spat it out right after. The food was too hot.

***

Takaki ended up paying for the meal. Even after all that big talk about ‘treating him’, it turned out Hiromi didn’t have a dime on her. Oddly, Takaki already had a premonition that this would be the case.

“How can we go to a festival without yukatas?” When Hiromi suggested this, she was actually only talking about buying it for herself. Takaki was sure of it, but he couldn't refuse, as he was already under an unbreakable spell.

Her lips became more glittery, but were they really shining? Maybe it was wet with saliva, or maybe it was only his imagination granting her an ethereal quality, or maybe it was a side effect of him gawking at her lips for far too long.

Hiromi paid no mind to his gaze, too busy picking out a cute yukata for herself. When she changed out of her oversized clothes, Takaki was finally able to discern her body shape. Her curves, her average-sized chest, her butt that poked out like a small hill.

He tried to stay respectful, but his mind had other plans. Well, at least he was the one who was paying, as if he were… what the Internet called a sugar daddy. This realization was so cringeworthy to him that his mind chose to move on to another subject.

Mindless wandering turned out to be an effective way to kill time. Five o’clock came in a flash. But another unexpected matter arose. The stalls charged more than Takaki remembered. Perhaps a quirk of the rural area. Hiromi hopped around collecting food items as if she had too much money to spare. Takaki was the one picking up the tab, needless to say.

He was getting addicted. Hiromi’s reaction to each snack was priceless, well worth his hard-earned money (from working for his uncle). Her cute attempt to swallow the candy apple whole; her satisfied grin while chewing the dango; her wide eyes in response to the rich flavor of taiyaki; her delicate bites out of the chocobanana. His uncle’s kebab, which he previously thought was the most delicious, paled in comparison to what Hiromi was tasting.

Like a tourist facing the magnificent heavens filled with vibrant aurora, he just had to capture her expression with his phone. She emanated a slight annoyance at first that bordered on adorable, until she conceded it to be ‘payment for the food’.

“I guess I’m pretty much a rental girlfriend now,” she said. ‘Girlfriend’, the term that triggered fireworks of imagination in Takaki, while literal ones bloomed in the sky.

“The fireworks! We have to get to a better spot.” She chomped off the last of her chocobanana and took his hand without asking. Her touch was electrifying, almost stopping his heart; the mere contact was so distracting that Takaki couldn’t register her body temperature, but he was sure it would feel warm.

She yanked him along, pulling him to an unknown plane, further than he could envision from where he started.

***

The atmosphere became overwhelming as time went on amidst the chatter, and Hiromi started to blend in with the crowd, trivializing her to be just another stranger. Takaki wondered why this was the case. The number of people around them seemed to be constant, but he could stand less and less of this overabundance of others, these noises that disrupted the harmony composed by the two of them.

“Can we get somewhere quieter?” He missed whether Hiromi had answered him. It mattered not. Because at this point, they could communicate with a higher language.

The spot they ended up in was an empty beach ten minutes away from the plaza, a beautiful choice that resulted from their connected thoughts.

The waves never shirked their duty of brushing the sand, even in the absence of visitors. The isolated location of this hidden retreat deterred most visitors, only welcoming those who journeyed along that meandering passage, a sidepiece of the road. No spotlight would save the sands from darkness, leaving solely the illumination from the distant moon.

The two of them didn’t know this fact. They followed only the path they chose, and happened to notice a quiet site to continue their rendezvous.

“I can’t walk any longer. Let’s rest here.” Hiromi panted more frequently throughout their travels. Takaki was debating internally whether this vacant beach was open to the public, but Hiromi’s plea had switched the subject of his concerns to her. They didn’t fence this place or anything. This should be fine.

And so, he guided her down the rusted ladder onto the grainy land.

They rested their heavy bodies on the nurturing sand. With their fatigues out of the way, nothing stopped their eyes from interlocking. Hiromi smiled first, her mischief mellowing out into a slight blush.

“I had wanted to experience these things for a long time. Thanks for taking me out on a… on a date. And for paying. Yeah. Paying. I’ll pay you back someday. I promise.” But little did she know, watching her panic clumsily for no reason was all the payment he needed. And the word ‘date’, that was precious to him too.

“I had fun too. I’m glad that you knocked my kebab onto the floor.”

“Yeah… that kebab… do you still have it on you?”

“I asked one of the stall owners for help in disposing of it.”

“Good call.”

Then, the only sound they heard was the undulating waves. The silence held, until it became clear how much less awkward it would be if one of them just spoke.

However, something more disconcerting glided out of Hiromi’s lips oh so gracefully. “Wanna kiss?”

Takaki needed to check whether he was dreaming. His mind lagged behind, a delay which Hiromi took as refusal. “Sorry for saying that. It’s just… I thought…”

“Yes. Let’s kiss.” Takaki tried to mask his trembling, but their surroundings were just too calm, too open. There wasn’t anywhere to hide. No excuses. Only choice.

And they had decided to lock their lips together. Their heads drifted towards each other; eyes fluttered, torn between the dichotomy of open and closed.

From a light peck to full-on smooching. Soft and warm. As Takaki predicted them to be. There were surprises too. A mysterious fruity smell. The kiss felt drier than he thought, but fulfilling regardless.

Then, the unthinkable happened. Hiromi pulled back her head, started into a mad dash away from him, and puked some distance away.

Is my kiss that bad? His heart sank. The euphoria twisted into pain.

“No, it isn’t you. I wanted to kiss you more. But my body-” Another batch gushed out of her mouth. “It’s just something I ate. Sorry for ruining the moo-” Again.

Her clarification assuaged his self-blame a little, but it still hurt him to watch her suffer. Her vomiting ceased a while after, as her stomach had been cleared of everything.

“Water.” She reached out. And Takaki silently praised himself for having had the foresight to buy bottled water when they passed a convenience store.

She drank and drank, chugging down all that Takaki had. And even went near the ocean to relieve herself. Takaki sought to dissuade her from the act, unsuccessfully.

“I know I’m a maiden, but… this is an emergency. Do you remember any public toilets nearby? Do you want a maiden to soil herself? And don’t you dare look. If you look, I’ll hate you forever.”

Takaki complained inside, wishing she would trust him a little more.

“Do you need to go to the hospital?” He asked after the crisis of her body had passed.

“I just need a bit of sleep. I’ll be fine.”

Should he trust her? That was a crossroads for Takaki. He didn’t want to force her to do anything. In his mind, that is what good boyfriends do. Then, the question became whether they were dating.

While Takaki was too busy worrying, Hiromi lay on the coarse bed. “I must have caused a lot of problems for a lot of people.”

Hiromi’s words reoriented Takaki’s attention to her.

“No. No. Don’t say that.” There was an automaticity in Takaki’s reply.

“What do you know about me to say that?” And Hiromi matched him with slight aggression.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t comment on what I don’t understand.”

A grin returned to Hiromi’s face. “I’m not that mad. Thank you again for being my accomplice.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hiromi’s eyelids were sliding shut. With a yawn, she whispered, “I’m going to sleep for a little while.”

Takaki failed to stay awake after Hiromi fell into her dreams. The lullaby sung by the world was too strong to ignore. When he returned to the land of the conscious, the sun was already halfway to the top, and there were hundreds of missed calls on his phone.

Lost in the romantic flow, he forgot to update his uncle on his well-being. In a hurry he had never experienced before, he dialed his uncle’s number. Only a light scolding on the other end of the phone, to his surprise; his uncle was just relieved that he was safe. All he had to do now was to wake up Hiromi, and they could be on their way.

He didn’t want to interrupt Hiromi’s slumber, peaceful from what he gleaned from her calm appearance, but he also didn’t want to trouble his uncle and aunt anymore. Reluctantly, he shook her on the shoulder.

Nothing.

He shook her again.

Only stillness.

“Hiromi?”

***

The incident report afterwards was baffling to the investigating overseers. It just so happened that a dozen medical emergencies occurred at the same time. The director got into a minor traffic accident that morning. The security guard got food poisoning. A nurse accidentally dropped a complete set of casual clothes in the corridor. That girl’s insulin injector stopped working, prompting her to leave the room. And it was just on the day when no one was set to visit her.

She didn’t plan to escape at first, but she met someone interesting in the courtyard, someone who made her want to go on a little adventure.

Takaki forgot how he got back to the hospital. He called the police. He called his uncle, again. Guarding Hiromi’s body until the ambulance arrived. Convincing himself that she was still breathing, long after the paramedics declared the unthinkable.

Even after getting to the hospital, he had to be yelled at by Hiromi’s mother. “Give me my daughter back. Why? Why don’t you stop her?” The anger was mixed with tears until the emotion was deformed beyond recognition.

In response to this outburst, Takaki said nothing. He lacked the power to turn back time and lacked the knowledge to comprehend what type 1 diabetes meant. It was as if his insides were hollowed out. And he was free to experience any emotion he chose.

I wonder how Oka-san is holding up nowadays. She must be so lonely and depressed. This has to be a sign. I have to go back to her. I’ll bring back one of Oji-san’s famed kebabs. She would like it. Oh, and I have to wash the dirt out of the lunchbox.

As he settled on a resolution of his volition, a tear was freed from the back of his eye, down his cheek, passing by the lips that were kissed before by a lively ghost from the ocean. A spirit whose presence would haunt his phone and his memory for some time.

***

There is nothing more pointless than these emotions felt from consequences. The open choices had always been ends in and of themselves. The ultimate expression of supreme freedom. And this is still not enough, as there can always be more and more choices to be pursued. The years I had spent in that tyrannical prison had convinced me of this absolute good, and nothing can persuade me otherwise.

People can choose anything as an expression of their agency. To love. To lie. To kill. To die. Even to be willingly reentering the claustrophobic confinement of obligation. Since self-restraining foolishly was a valid path to take, choices would diminish the more free actions are allowed, but more options can always be forged.

That’s why I'm here.