when the fire goes out

"Trust in me!"

"But where are we going?"

"Just trust me!" Oikawa echoed back.

We climbed up the hills and down the valleys of our hometown's lush slopes, chasing after these final seconds of dusk. Sunlight slipped away with grace, but it left us marching through uneven terrain and stumbling on rocks. The crescent moon appeared, and stars slowly sprinkled across the sky. In no time, we would be lost in the dark, and helicopters would have to find us (which is what my anxiety told me). We could easily be those archetypal characters in an American adventure-comedy flick: lugging around our tent poles, blankets, and walking sticks in the name of exploration. In those movies, one of stupid guys always goes missing. Yep, that would be me.

I was panting, out of breath and physically drained. Oikawa was the merry-go-lucky trip leader, hiking without a breathless sign of exhaustion. "We're pretty much here!" he yelled while waving for me to hurry up. Shittykawa, why did I agree to this!? I wanted to scream, but instead, I ran after him.

Hands on his hips, proud and dovelike, Oikawa stood at the top of the ridge.

The view was unlike anything I'd ever seen in Miyagi. We were high up in the emerald forests of this town. In the hills, we hid from the rest of the world. Willowy branches framed the corners of this vista. Down below, the lights of our small city glimmered like a million fireflies. I wanted to catch every speckle. The buildings, temples, and roads reminded me of a preschool toy set and how kids built new worlds out of colorful blocks and figurines.

We set up our tent, laid out our blankets and pillows, and Oikawa began building a fire.

"You really did zone out during every lesson at summer camp," he mocked, "and boy scouts. and that wilderness training class our dads signed us up for."

"The woods leave me sweaty and dirty," I grouched.

"The woods leave me sweaty and dirty," he mimicked me in a grating voice. "Anyway, let's begin with some kindling. The biggest fires are created when you start off with the tiniest twigs and driest leaves."

I gathered what I could find, and we slowly formed an offering of decaying bark and woody stems.

"Cool, I'm gonna get some firewood."

Oikawa took out a hatchet and began chopping down the pile of wood we collected. I could make out his silhouette—lean and athletic. He blew out a deep exhale with every log he cleaved. Oikawa swung his arms up and swiftly, in a single blow, striked down. His arms had so much power, and yet, everything about his movements were gentle and calming to watch. He brought over the pile of wood in his arms. I wished I had his strength and agility. My body felt out of place in the woods. Well, I was out of place everywhere I went.

Ain't that hard to admit.

The fire grew. We blew into the kindling and watched the flames engulf the temple of branches and logs. It all turned into a sea of burning blues and oranges. Fire might just be the most underrated element of them all. People abuse it, using it to hurt others, but it has a simple role: it provides warmth and light.

We stuck our hands out to defrost our fingertips. While the flames danced into the sky, Oikawa and I did not talk very much, besides a few comments about the nocturnal critters beginning their day to day duties.

When the flames finally died, we went into our tent and covered ourselves in warm layers of quilted blankets. The wind rumbled like an angry old man. It rustled through the trees and shook our tent. The gusts were so relentless that for a moment, I prayed that a tree wouldn't fall on us.

"I'm cold," Oikawa complained.

"This whole thing was your plan, mate."

"Aren't you cold?"

"Yes, but it's not a big deal." I wanted to laugh. Oikawa spent the day living out his wilderness dreams, but now, a chill and some loud wind had made him shrink into a scared, little boy. I guess having a fancy apartment in Tokyo does this to people. "The blankets are keeping me warm."

"I'm really cold. Can we squeeze in? You know, to utilize our body heat and all that. Camping trick from summer camp, remember?"

"Anything for you," I chimed, sarcastically.

We brought our bodies closer together. It felt like our days stuck in middle school summer camp. Our parents sent us away to catch a break of their own. Oikawa and I never got along with the other kids. The boys were always slimy. They spent their days scheming ways to get with the girls. The counselors insulted everyone until we all felt shitty about ourselves. The icebreakers made things more awkward, and, for days, they only fed us cold rice and chicken. The only good thing about summer camp was the mochi they served once a week... and hot, july days I got to spend with Oikawa.

One night, on an unremarkable weekday of camp, Oikawa and I snuck away from our cabin to go sleep by the lake. We brought our blankets and pillows, and the two of us spent the night stargazing. We traced out Cassiopeia, the Big Dipper, Jupiter, and Mars. That summer, while I got lost in my books, Oikawa memorized the North sky. It was a strangely chilly night for August, so we slept in each other's arms. Two boys asleep in their own little kingdom. The next morning, the three head counselors—all of them had popular kid personas—yelled at us and called our fathers.

Just disrespectful, so despicable of them, they shrilled into the phone.

Of course, our fathers didn't care.

Now, things were reminding me of that night by the lake: just the two of us, so close together, facing the unknowns of the woods.

"Are you awake enough to continue on with our game?"

"How could I not be?" A smile could be heard in his voice. "I'll go first." Oikawa contemplated for a moment. "This place... Well, back in high school, I saved this spot for the last day the two of us would spend in Miyagi. Whenever I came here, I would wonder when that would be. Graduation? The last day of summer? One time, I thought we would stay here for the rest of our lives. Like, as deadbeat bums who never leave their hometown."

"I wish we got to do that before we both moved to Tokyo." A sadness stuttered in my voice.

"Hey, we're here now, aren't we? Maybe, we'll never have an official last day in Miyagi."

"No matter where we go, Miyagi will always be home."

"Right."

"It's strange how I spent my entire life wanting to run away from this place, thinking it would solve all of my problems," my voice trembled, "and yet, coming back, I finally feel light again... like I could breathe for once."

"All roads lead to Miyagi," Oikawa professed. "This place really is strange. Whenever I come back, I revert back to a version of myself I thought I'd outgrew a long time ago. Then, it comes back to me, and I'm caught in this limbo. Who am I? Really, deep down inside."

"Has Ainu been here?" I asked, biting my tongue.

"No," he replied right away, "she hasn't." He shifted the conversation away from Ainu. "So yeah, I guess that's my confession. It's nothing sensational, but I thought you should know. Your turn now."

I never saw myself as a vulnerable person, but, somehow, the words came out, as if I had nothing to hold back in the first place: a release of what I'd been feeling for so many years.

"It's kinda funny being here tonight because, for the first time in my life, I'm terrified of leaving. They say people are all we've got in this life, but even then, I can't get rid of this lonely feeling" I sighed. "Oikawa, do you ever get lonely in Tokyo? Because I do, and it's the worst feeling—to be surrounded by so many people and yet still feel so alone."

I shut my eyes. A tear streamed onto my pillow. I wiped it away. My words were finally released.

"I do get lonely," Oikawa replied, surprising me with his response. "Sometimes, I would go as far to say that I might be the loneliest man in Tokyo. I thought I was the only one who felt that way, Iwaizumi, but I guess that's how loneliness works."

"But you're so loved... by everyone."

"They love the billboards and TV interviews, but they don't know me... or at least, they don't know me like you do."

"Well, I don't feel lonely right now. When I'm around you, the loneliness somehow leaves my body. It's like there's a switch in my head that you turn on-and-off. The moment you're around, I feel like someone's finally seeing me again, that I'm not just an empty voice lost in the void."

"Iwaizumi, can I touch your hair?" Oikawa asked. "Like when we were kids and I would pet your hair like a cat whenever you had trouble falling asleep."

We both laughed. I then touched his hand and brought it to the side of my face. Slowly, he ran his fingers through my hair, in a gentle caress, while reality escaped from my vision.

"I'm happy we have each other," Oikawa whispered, eyes locked with mine, illuminated only by a sliver of moonlight. "It feels so good to be friends with you again."

"It truly makes me so happy too."

Soon, the world melted into nothingness. The woods turned into an effervescent dream, but everything said was real and alive. That I know was true.