All that Remains are Memories

When I wake up, my back is screaming in pain. I can barely sit up- I feel like an old man.

My mind's racing. Last night- I was dreaming that, wasn't I? I fell asleep, or I took a bump on the head, and I dreamed Hashigami went home with me and kissed me. And then I dreamed she had a boyfriend and she was cheating on him with me and she tried to act like he wasn't her boyfriend but I knew he was. Man, even in my dreams I'm down bad.

I was sleeping on the cold wooden floor, without the futon or even a blanket of any sort covering me. No wonder I'm freezing. Ugh. My glasses are off and I can't see farther than half a meter in front of me. And I'm half-asleep. I need caffeine-

Wait. If I was sleeping on the floor...who's in the futon?

I flail around until I find my glasses, putting them on, and a soft mound in the middle of the tattered blue futon comes into focus. Creeping closer, Hashigami's sleeping face comes into view.

So I didn't dream that, at least...I really have a girl my age spending the night in this dump of an apartment...

She shifts underneath the blanket, her long hair spilling out over the pillow. "Mmm...Mom...five more minutes..." she moans softly.

The kettle in the kitchen begins to bubble and boil. In a few minutes, I have another cup of Gas Station Green Tea, and the fog lifts from my brain with the first sip.

Instantly, memories of last night start flooding back. Why did Hashigami do that- it doesn't make sense- she was drunk, right? That has to be the answer.

Of course a girl as pretty as her would have a boyfriend. Something like that is blatantly obvious.

A yawn comes from behind me as Hashigami sits up in the futon, half-asleep, her hair going everywhere. "Good morning...Kou-kun-" She yawns even bigger. "Ya got any coffee?"

"No..."

She struggles to her feet, squinting her eyes and moving so slowly and stiffly she looks like a zombie. "Caffeine...caffeine..."

Where'd she get that mug from? I didn't see her make a cup of anything-

It's my mug. I reach for my tea and it's gone.

Hashigami's eyes open wider and the light returns to them as the caffeine starts flowing through her body. "Thanks for the tea-"

"That's my tea."

She takes one look down and blushes so red you'd swear she was a tomato. "Uh...sorry..."

And that's an indirect kiss, so casual that I didn't even notice it at first. I'm hitting all the spots on the Harem Protagonist Bingo. The only thing left is for me to trip and somehow end up grabbing both her breasts. And for me to have the IQ of a brick that's been left out in the sun for a few days.

"It's fine, I'll just make another one." I start shuffling toward the kitchen. "Hey, listen, about last night..."

"Huh? What happened last night?" She cocks her head and stares at me quizzically. "I was talking to you and I dozed off, I think..."

Yup. She was drunk. She turned beet-red after just an indirect kiss. There's no way she'd be able to handle a direct one right now. But I'm convinced she's pretending to not remember what happened. She's embarrassed, so she's acting like she doesn't remember, but one can of piss water isn't enough to get a mouse blackout drunk, let alone a full-sized human.

"I'm wondering something...who's Takahiro?"

Her reaction says it all. She knows what she did. "How do you know about Takahiro?"

If she doesn't want to talk about last night, I can't just start questioning her. That's the quickest way to completely destroy our friendship after everything we've already been through. "No particular reason. I saw a message pop up from him on your phone when you left it near the kitchen counter."

"Oh...well..." She takes a small sip, breaking eye contact with me. "He's one of my friends. Or my ex, depending on how you want to look at it. We dated for a few months last year...but we broke up. I still think he wants to get back with me. I like him, but I don't like him that way. You know?"

"Yeah, pretty much." I'm still not convinced she's telling me the whole truth, but she's stone cold sober and she's saying the same thing as last night.

Why can't I trust people? Why can't I just take what she's saying at face value and be done with it?

"By the way, I have something for you!" Hashigami suddenly blurts out. She starts digging in the large purse sitting beside the futon and produces a small box, neatly wrapped in white-and-gold paper with a large bow on top. "Merry Christmas, Kou-kun. I forgot to give this to you last night."

"T-thanks..." My face is growing flushed again. Me? Getting a Christmas present from a girl? I've never even gotten friend chocolate on Valentine's Day.

With shaking hands, I slowly open the box. It's a prize figure of Rayfar from Elves Chronicle, frozen in an attacking position as he moves his sword back to swing, one foot off the ground, a look of determination in his face.

"Sorry, I didn't realize you lived like this or I would have gotten you something more practical..." Hashigami nervously fidgets. "I had to order it off iBay. You can't get these at stores anymore."

"No, it's okay. Thank you." I cradle the box with both my hands. The figure is something that really serves no other purpose than being nice to look at- which is why I'm going to treasure it. It's not something I would be able to buy on my own. All of my meager income is going straight into life needs, not wants.

"I have something for you, too." Quickly, I remember the scarf, still shoved inside the kitchen closet with my rice supply. I rummage around, pulling it out and presenting it to Hashigami. "Here you are. Merry Christmas."

She opens the package daintily. Compared to her box, this one is wrapped hastily. The workers at the store did their best, but her gift looked like it belonged on a movie set.

The red-and-green tartan peeks out of the package as Hashigami peers at it more closely. The more she doesn't say anything, the more nervous I get. Oh no. She hates it. It's out of season, or it's torn, or she knows it's too cheap. I gulp, concerned.

Then she smiles so wide her face radiates. "I love it! Thank you!"

A wave of relief washes over my body as she heads to the bathroom to get changed, re-emerging after what seems like hours in the fancy outfit she had on yesterday. She's back to looking impeccable. Not a single hair is out of place. Meanwhile, I look sloppy even at my best.

"Do you have any breakfast?" she asks as she leaves the bathroom.

"No...we'll have to go to the convenience store."

"Fine by me."

So that's where we head out to. Or at least, I try to. Before I can lock the creaky, rust-stained door, Hashigami cries, "Wait!"

"What is it?"

"I left my purse inside..."

"Oh."

She quickly dashes inside. It takes her a second, but she returns with her bag in tow. It was a lot longer than I'd expect her to look for a purse...maybe it got buried under some dirty clothes or something? Regardless, it's good that she caught that. I can't imagine what I'd do with a girl's handbag inside my apartment. And she might think I took it on purpose to be a pervert and then she would go after my balls.

Before you ask, no, I did not take her to the Kyoudai Mart where I work. I took her to the Lowson in the other direction, where we buy the finest egg salad sandwiches, sliced fruit in a bag, and reheated coffee that the place has to offer, and then eat it in the parking lot like some real bums.

"Can you get home alright?" I ask as we polish off the last of our cellophane-wrapped breakfast. The snow has completely stopped this morning, leaving a pristine blanket of thick white powder behind, coating roofs, yards, and parking lots like the one we're currently in. It's still bitterly cold, though.

"Yeah. The roads have cleared off enough that the buses can run."

"Okay. Well...see you, I guess." To be honest, it's a little disappointing, having our eventful Christmas celebration end so anticlimactically. I knew it had to end at some point, though. I have the day off today...so I guess I'll head home and play Brave Spirits Online all day.

"You too." She smiles.

As she turns to leave, a thought grips my mind, a vivid one. It's almost like a voice speaking to me, telling me that I have to show her a place important to me, something I haven't seen in over a year.

"Wait. I want you to see something."

Before I know it, we're on a rickety JR local train, rocketing north along the east side of Mutsu Bay as the surroundings grow more and more remote, from city to small town to farms and fields and forests, all blanketed in snow. The crowd thins out more and more until we're the only two left in the car speeding into the remote north. Then, the old loudspeaker on the train announces that the next stop is Arihata, and we step off onto one tiny single platform, covered with snow, our breath fogging in the crisp Tohoku air.

The town where I grew up is not very large. There's maybe 500 people maximum if you really stretch the boundaries, and most of those are farmers over sixty. The only reason why you'd want to visit would be to stay at Kabura-ya Honten. Well...not anymore.

"Where do you want to go?" Hashigami looks over at me curiously, shivering a little from the cold.

"Follow me." I set off down the main street, my cheap shoes crunching in the snow, as Hashigami follows closely behind. The town is almost creepily deserted. Even more stores have closed up for good from when I was a kid, and there's not a single car or person moving around. Not like there ever were many in the first place, but they're totally gone today.

The worst part of last night’s storm missed my tiny hometown, but the roads are still completely coated, and snowdrifts on the sidewalks on either side of us come all the way up to our knees. Every so often, we’ll come across a parked car, buried up to the windows in a mound of fluffy white powder.

I know the path from memory. To the left is the tiny elementary school that I attended. There were so few of us that all of us from first to sixth grade used one classroom. The window panes of the building are broken and the sign on the front gate is nowhere to be found- it looks like the last child graduated long ago.

We turn off the main street down another street, walk past some rickety, snow-covered houses, then turn again, and there is my childhood home. Or at least, where it used to be. The once-proud ryokan lies in a heap of snow-covered wood, paper, and tile, right in front of us, with the pond in front of it empty and the trees barren and snow-covered. The only sign of life is a metal for sale sign hanging on the front gate.

It didn't last after my parents left. They were the ones maintaining it. Maybe, even if I did inherit it, we'd have already had to close it by now. It was on its last legs. Its original purpose- to serve travelers heading north to the mountains and then to Hokkaido- no longer existed. But it makes me want to break down and tear up seeing it in ruins. It was built in the 1700s and served samurai and hunters and explorers and fishermen and everyone else through generations and generations of my family and instead of getting a proper grand closing with festivities and people reminiscing about their memories, four hundred years of history were brought to an abrupt end by a patch of black ice, a loose tire, and a document in the courthouse.

Hashigami looks over toward me with her eyes wide. "Is this..."

"Yeah. It's where I grew up."

We stand there in silence for a second, contemplating the heap of snow-covered building material that used to be a mighty inn, and then Hashigami steps back, grabs a pile of snow off the ground, and nails the for sale sign right in the middle with a snowball in one fluid motion.

"You bunch of jerks!" she yells, breaking the silence.

"Wha- what did you do that for..."

"Because they ruined your life! Isn't it obvious?"

"It's not the bank's fault...they were just doing their job..."

"Who cares if they were or they weren't? Don't you have a right to be angry, too? It was your home and they took it from you even though you didn't do anything wrong!" Hashigami's gaze is both pleading and impassioned at the same time.

"What's the point of getting mad over things you can't control?" I look down at my feet, still buried in the snow in my cheap sneakers. "It's not like I'll ever get this place back."

"And who decided that? So long as you're alive, there's a possibility, isn't there?" Hashigami snaps. She suddenly looks down and away, fidgeting a little with an uncomfortable expression. "...Not like I have any right to say that," she mutters.

"Yeah. I guess there is."

I reach down into the snow- as soon as my bare fingers touch it and shape it into a ball, shocks of pain run up my hand. The new-fallen powder starts melting as soon as it reaches my palm, leaving drops of water behind to run down the back and drip to the ground.

The sign attached to the front gate of the place I used to call home is no longer a for sale advertisement and a phone number. It's the face of the lawyer who forced me to sign over all my inheritance rights when I had barely finished burying my parents, the executives of the bank who went after a grieving nineteen-year-old for his parents' debts, my landlord who doesn't care about anything other than getting his money and wouldn't bat an eyelid if I froze to death in that sorry dump he ought to be ashamed of trying to rent to people, my manager whose only talent is forgetfulness, my coworkers who do nothing, the guy who tried to citizen's arrest me on the bus, every single bully in high school, and the driver of the truck that killed my parents.

I let the snowball fly, chucking it with all my might, and it explodes into a cloud of mist as it hits the sign dead-center.

Before I know it, Hashigami has thrown another one, but this one hits the large dead tree near the entrance to what used to be Kabura-ya Honten, knocking the snow on the branches loose to come drifting back down to earth.

My hand is starting to go numb, but I take another snowball and hit the sign. And then again, watching them shatter into pieces satisfyingly.

As the fourth snowball hits the sign right in the middle, I turn and notice Hashigami hasn't thrown anything else. She's instead standing there watching me intently.

"They look kinda like fireworks, aren't they?" she says, giving me a curious glance.

"Yeah. They do."