January 1, 2037
SKY Waikiki, Honolulu
12:46 AMAfter the climax of the surprisingly long 30-minute fireworks extravaganza, Miyuki, Kenma, and I retreated to the now slightly-less-filled-but-still-just-as-purple lounge. We were lucky enough to find a set of large chairs unoccupied along the side wall and began chatting, an activity that for the three of us was disappointingly rare.
During a lull in the conversation, Miyuki reached over and patted me on the head. She said my name with a soft smile in between sips of her Coconut Girl. “I don’t know if you remember this,” she started, “but when you were probably like, what was it… 7?”
“Aomori?” Kenma cut in, already knowing the direction of Miyuki’s thought. She nodded.
“When you were 7, so this is like
2012, Kenma and I took you to the Nebuta in Aomori during the summer.”
She took another sip of her Coconut Girl.
I did the same.
“It was just a couple weeks before I turned 16, so I managed to talk mother and father into letting me take you and Kenma up to Aomori for a long weekend out. Just the three of us.”
Kenma laughed. Almost an involuntary reflex, “Ahh… yeah. ‘Managed to talk.’ You had to like beg them to let you to take one *(censored)*’ day off.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Miyuki waved him off and turned her attention back to me, “Let’s just say that it took a lot of ‘talking.’”
Kenma’s head fell. “And…..”
“....and a fair bit of crying as well.”
Kenna rolled his eyes.
Miyuki took another sip of her Coconut Girl, now surely nearing its end.
“ANYWAYS. By some stroke of magic (or more likely my otherworldly charm),” she winked, “I managed to get our parents to agree to let me take you and Kenma to Aomori for the Nebuta Festival as an early birthday present to myself.”
“Lord knows they weren’t going to get you anything.” Kenma interjected.
“Oh no, they actually liked me, so…” Miyuki responded.
“Haha.”
“Do you remember any of this, Ryu?” Miyuki pulled out her phone as she asked.
I didn’t remember it at all.“Uh… Maybe a bit? I dunno…”
“Oh… What a shame.” She flipped her phone around to show me a video. It was a bit grainy. “Before my damn fool self knew about cloud saves, I used to—now this is really stupid—I used to manually record videos I had saved on an old phone whenever I got a new one. Check this one out.”
A splash of orange slowly crept across the top of the screen. The rest filled with backpacks and legs moving about.
“This video was one you took.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. 2012, August 5th. It was a Sunday. Even though it’s only of everyone in front of you’s asses, I’ve always loved this video.”
Suddenly, the focus of the video changed - quickly spinning to the right, all a blur, pixel-crushed. The face of a boy wearing a backwards baseball cap could be made out looking down at the phone’s camera. He pointed at it with a wink and a crooked smile.
Even through the compression -- there’s no mistaking Kenma.Leaning behind him was a girl in a t-shirt. As soon as her eyes caught the camera’s gaze, she closed them tight, smiled as wide as she could, and waved as if her hand was about to pop off.
Yuki…The camera then whipped back to the left before abruptly cutting off.
“...” I kept looking at the screen, “That’s it?”
“That’s it.” Miyuki took the final sip of her Coconut Girl. I took another long sip of mine in step. She continued, “Just a little vid of Kenma, me, and a whole lotta ass.” She laughed. “I think, though… Or no, actually I know: This was the first time we really, like, ‘hung out.’ Just us three. Certainly the first time you saw fireworks.”
“You were so scared, dude.” Kenma added with a laugh of his own, “Crushing my hand like a *(censored)* vice.”
“I was?”
“Oh yeah. Shaking, sniffing, crying, hahaha”
“You were pretty scared, Ryu.” Miyuki put her phone back in her clutch. “But still… It was a great night.” She sighed, “I feel like I didn’t even really know you. Back then, mother and father always kept you so separate from Kenma and I.”
“Didn’t want to *(censored)* up their perfect child with you and didn’t want to *(censored)* Ryu up with me. Probably.” Kenma said without looking at either of us. His relationship with our parents was, in all likelihood, unmendable.
“Probably.” Miyuki, surprisingly, agreed.
Then again, despite the music blaring, there was quiet.
“It must’ve been great.” I endeavored to break it. “I’m sorry I don’t remember…”
“Hmh, me too.” Miyuki said with a sad smile. “Kenma - you remember that tiny hotel we stayed at? What was it called? Something like… Style… Uh…”
“OH! I do. It was uh… ‘Smile Hotel,’ I think. Ryu and I had to share that bed. Felt like I could palm both walls if I spread my arms all the way out hahahah. They did have that buffet though.”
“Oh yeah! They did, didn’t they? Hmm... That was so long ago now… Feel like that trip and the
Knights game you scored free tickets to were the only times we were with each other when we were young.” Miyuki’s stare was vacant. “It sucks.”
“Yeah.” Kenma continued to avert his gaze, “It does suck.”
What sucks even more is that I don’t remember this Aomori trip at all. This seems to have been a formative memory for both Yuki and Kenma, and yet… I don’t remember it at all. But I was there. There’s even a video to prove it. I took another sip of my Coconut Girl, the final sip, savoring every moment of it.
And yet. As hard as I may try, I’ve got nothing. It makes me wonder, really, how much I’ve forgotten. I really don’t remember all that much from when I was younger. Just an image of a cold, empty house here and there. Miyuki studying away in her room and Kenma off with his “friends.” Mother and father never really said all that much to us either, other than a scolding. I don’t know if they even said all that much to each other, now that I think about it. I wonder if they even liked each other… What was I thinking about when I took that video? What was I looking forward to? Nervous about? I have no idea. Without that video, or without Yuki and Kenma remembering, it’s like all of that never even happened. I wonder, are we who we are because of our memories? If I forgot everything I ever did one morning, would I be the same person from then on? Would I act the same? Like the same things? Wou--“Yo, Ryu.” Kenma slapped me on the shoulder and gave me a knowing look.
“Yeah… I just went ‘thinko mode.’”
Kenma laughed, “Come on man,” He got to his feet, pulled up his pants, exclaimed: “let’s go drinko mode!” and sauntered over to the bar.
After my… I think 5 piña coladas, I had been in drinko mode for enough of the night. Kenma was alone on his voyage to the bar.
I looked at Miyuki, my wonderful sister, who I didn’t even really know until she was already in her 30s, as she laughed at our brother’s silly walk up to the bar for his, assuredly, 80th beer of the night. I looked too and couldn’t help but laugh.
It may have taken a long time, most of our lives it seems, but I could not be more fortunate to have these two as my family.
--bzzbzz--
“Hmm?”