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“One, two, three onigiri~”
Misumi drops three ongiri into his bag with a happy chirp. Omi made extra rice that morning for Misumi to use, so it was nice and not too hot by the time he got back from an early morning run with Tasuku. He greeted the others going in and out the kitchen as he expertly shaped his onigiri into triangles and wrapped them in foil.
“Sumi-saaaan!”
—is all the warning Misumi gets before being rugby tackled from behind. He stumbles forward with an “oof!” before turning back and grinning.
“Kumon! You’re heading out early?”
“Yeah!” Kumon beams up at Misumi, squeezing him slightly before letting go and straightening up. “Promised Yamaguchi and the others on the baseball team I’d join them to play catch before school.” His eyes sweep the counter before stopping on Misumi’s backpack. “Is it today?”
Misumi’s smile softens, and he ruffles Kumon’s hair. “Mhm! I’ll head out after lunch, but I wanted to pack now. So I can take it easy!”
Kumon laughs at the head pats, easily nuzzling into Misumi’s hand like an eager puppy. “Mm… In that case…”
He rips open his bookbag and pulls out an unopened sports drink from a drinks compartment. Probably Kumon’s favourite, since these bottles make up at least half the volume of Kumon’s trash. The bottle still has half the condensation beading the outside, the other half absorbed by the bag’s fabric lining.
“Gotta stay hydrated on a long journey, right?” Kumon says, shaking the bottle in Misumi’s direction. “I’ll just grab another one before I get to school. Maybe put it back in the fridge until you’re ready to go?”
“Wah, Kumon! You don’t have to~” Misumi ruffles Kumon’s hair harder.
Kumon waves his free hand at Misumi, shoving the drink into Misumi’s chest insistently. “I want to! Just take it, Sumi-san. It’s not like I’ll suffer without it.”
Kumon closes his bookbag again and makes a dash for the door. “I’ll see you when you get back, Sumi-san! Have fun on your trip!” He’s already blind thumbing at his phone.
Misumi sighs and waves Kumon out with a fond smile. “Thanks, Kumon!”
Not too long after, Muku and Yuki pass through the kitchen dressed for school too. Yuki tips his head toward Misumi as he taps something on his phone. Muku smiles brightly and waves at Misumi.
“Misumi-san! You’re getting ready to leave?”
“I am!” Misumi leans over the counter to gently pat Muku and Yuki’s head.
Yuki scrunches his nose at him before smoothing down his bangs again. “Isn’t it early, Trianglian? I thought you’d get back late.”
Misumi shrugs. “I’ll just be early then! Or I’ll spend more time hanging out.” He opens his hand to show them a few cartoony animal themed food picks. “Help me pick which one to use for my fruit?”
“The pink one,” Yuki says immediately.
“The blue one!” Muku says at the same time.
They give each other a look. Yuki’s eyes narrow, and Muku’s chin dimples like he might concede. Misumi laughs.
“I’ll bring both, I’ll bring both~” The pink cat pick and blue dog pick are jabbed into a very triangular slice of melon. “You guys should go before you’re late for class!”
Muku gasps. “Is it that time already? Wah!” He loops his arm through Yuki’s and starts marching with Yuki to the door. “We’ll see you when you get back then, Misumi-san!”
Yuki prods him. “Wait, wonderboy, the—”
“Right!” Muku grins at Misumi over his shoulder. “We left you something in mine and Kazu-kun’s room! Please grab it before you go!”
Yuki snorts and waves lazily behind him. “Bye-bye!”
“Ah, Misumi. You really are packing your trip already?”
Misumi looks up and beams. “Tenma!” Looks like he’s heading off for some photoshoot, seeing as he’s wearing his cap and sunglasses. “Mm, I am. I’m almost done!”
His meal is neatly tucked away into his bag, now in a proper bento box with extra side dishes after some pleading on Izumi’s part. The sports drink from Kumon is tucked inside too, wrapped in extra tissues to keep the bag dry, and he’ll stop by 202 before he sets off.
Tenma makes an endearingly disgruntled face. “And the others gave you stuff?”
Misumi blinks, then again, then nods slower. “Yes! Why?”
Tenma grumbles something about being beaten. He purses his lips. “Nothing. There’s a slice of cake in the fridge. Prepackaged. You can bring it.”
Misumi blinks again, before his smile stretches wider across his face. “Awww, Tenma! That’s so nice!” He turns to grab it from the fridge as Tenma splutters.
“It’s just cake!” he insists. “It’s no big deal!”
“Still! It’s really nice of you, Tenma!” Misumi grabs the cake slice, helpfully labelled in Tenma’s neat script, ‘FOR MISUMI’. It’s even in a triangular box! Misumi tucks it into his backpack with the rest of his food before bounding over to Tenma to give him a hug. “Thanks, Tenma!”
Tenma huffs and reluctantly pats Misumi’s back in kind. “Yeah, yeah. Igawa’s outside already, so I’ll head out. Enjoy your trip, Misumi.”
Misumi chuckles. “I will, I will!”
Knock knock knock!
Misumi raps on the door to 202 three times. It opens almost instantly.
“Sumiii!”
“Kazuuu!”
They crash into each other with a laugh, pulling one another into a bone crushing hug. Kazunari squeezes Misumi before pulling back.
“Mukkun sent you to get our gift, right?”
Before Misumi can respond, Kazunari’s already pressing it into his hand. It’s a long, thin box, wrapped neatly in brightly coloured triangle patterned wrapping paper.
“It’s from all of Summer Troupe. Don’t open it until you get there, okay?” Kazunari says with a conspiratorial wink.
Misumi pulls Kazunari in for another hug. “You guys are the best!”
The sky is particularly clear today. The days have been unbearably hot lately, even though June has barely begun, but the wind’s picked up again. Misumi feels it flowing through his hoodie, his hair, his fingers. He feels like the sun is smiling down on him.
The sun hadn’t always smiled down on Misumi. He remembers cool dark nights better than warm days. Sneaking in through back doors and propped open windows; learning to lighten your footsteps so you’re not heard. You’re safer if no one hears you.
A tannoy crackles to life. “...arriving at platform 2 shortly. Please stand behind the yellow line and wait to board.”
Misumi is happier when he’s loud. Rather, when he’s happy, he’s loud, and all his friends worry when he isn’t. They’ve got a sixth sense for knowing when he isn’t, even when he pretends he is.
“We just know, Trianglian,” is what Yuki would say. Or Tenma would cross his arms over his chest and ask why Misumi hasn’t said anything yet, or Kazunari would give him that look like he already knows what’s wrong.
Sometimes fixing what’s wrong takes being quiet, even though Summer Troupe is full of probably the noisiest people Misumi (and the rest of Mankai) knows. There’s never really a dull moment, never a drop in energy. But when Misumi needs it—when anyone in Summer Troupe needs it—the sound muffles. The mood tempers, and the lights dim a little. Like a home winding down to a few side lamps in the evening, or the sun going down for the crickets to start singing.
Misumi ducks onto the train. It’s fairly empty for the middle of the day. He leans against the glass divider by the doors.
“Thank you for boarding this train to…”
They had a sleepover the last time Misumi felt this way. They pulled their futons from their beds and lined them up wall to wall in 203, nudging the odd miscellaneous triangular items and baseball paraphernalia out of the way. They lined up like little sardines, shoulder to shoulder, snickering and bickering until the energy bubbles seemed to pop and dissipate. No one talked for a while. Misumi remembers staring at the ceiling and making faces out of the shape of the overhead light. Gravity suspended. All they could hear was fabric and breathing.
Misumi steps out of the train station to the mid-afternoon sky. It’s bright blue and studded with cotton candy wisps of clouds. There’s even the ghostly imprint of the moon, so barely there, but just as white and prominent as the clouds. Misumi smiles to himself as he starts on that familiar journey toward the horizon.
Hi, moon.
That night, Misumi didn’t even explain himself fully. He said only a handful of sentences, just enough for the others to put together, but his heart felt lighter. He felt Kumon and Muku squish up against him just a tiny bit more. He watched Kazunari reach over at least two people to pat Misumi’s shoulder. He cried only a little bit.
They’ve done this a thousand times before, and they’ll probably do it a million times more. Huddling together for warmth on the roof, or in the courtyard, or in the living room. Yuki and Tenma arguing over who’s hogging the blankets, Muku and Kazunari picking through what to read together, Kumon yapping his ear off. Misumi wouldn’t change a thing. Because they’re…
Misumi comes to a stop at the foot of a mountain. It stands tall ahead of him, the trail long and winding and lined with moss and brush. This place is quiet, even on a perfect day like today. A few hikers dot the trail—mostly solo hikers and old ladies who’ll stop at the cafe halfway up before returning downhill—but it’s almost silent. Like the world comes to a standstill just in this place.
He spends a few hours hiking up the trail, though it’s less of a hike and more of a walk, with gentle inclines and smooth stone pavers. Misumi’s bag thumps against his back as he hops up every step. The sun beats into his eyes and makes him sticky with sweat. Every time he takes a swig of his sports drink, he mentally thanks Kumon.
Misumi comes to a clearing a little while away from the trail. There’s no pavers leading up to it, but it is cordoned off around the edges for safety. The sky is turning pink now, the sun dipping below the horizon to make way for the moon to appear in all its glory. Misumi sits in the very middle of the clearing, pulls out his food and digs in.
The onigiri is good, of course. The fruit is sweet, and the cake is soft. The sports drink is a welcome reprieve as his heart rate settles in the cooling twilight. He looks up at the fading colours in the sky and leans back against the hard dirt on one elbow. With his other hand, he stretches his fingers and reaches up towards the moon.
“Hi, grandpa.
“I know I usually greet you from the dorms, but I wanted to say hello from somewhere quieter this time. Like it’s just me and you again.
“I think I wanted to say that I still miss you, but not as much as I used to. I don’t feel as lost without you anymore, grandpa. I have Madoka, and I have my new family: Mankai. With Tenma, and Yuki, and Muku, and Kazu, and Kumon.
“It was the director’s idea, when I told her I couldn’t remember you as much anymore. She said I could try going somewhere on my own, and the others in Summer Troupe helped me plan my trip. And they gave me so many things too!”
Misumi reaches for his bag and carefully peels back the wrapping on the box that Kazunari gifted him. It’s a box of sparklers, with a small book of matches taped to the outside. Misumi can’t help but grin.
“They find ways to be with me even when they can’t be with me,” he murmurs. “Just like you, grandpa. I think you would’ve loved them just as much as I do.”
He lights a sparkler and watches it twinkle against the deep blue of early evening.
“Even when we’re apart, we’re still together. Thank you for always being with me, grandpa. I hope you keep smiling down on me like always.”
And when Misumi gets home, just a little after midnight, he finds his beloved family curled up together on the sofa in the living room. They’re all fast asleep, tucked under a series of fuzzy blankets, with just enough space toward the end of the couch for him. He drops his backpack and snuggles in next to them.
Through half-lidded eyes, he spies a cake on the coffee table. It’s an architectural feat of a three sided pyramidal cake decorated with more triangles in yellow, pink, and blue, and with a singular unlit candle stuck in the very top. A placard to the side reads, ‘Happy birthday, Misumi!’
Misumi drifts off to sleep with a smile on his face.