A dream

Chapter 8: New Beginnings

He was heading downstairs, he needed a smoke, and the city still sold tobacco, and that surprisingly cheap.

'Man, am I glad I took my gizmo with me! I knew they'd come in handy!'

They'd reached Cape Town some time ago and were now chilling in a no longer properly functioning hotel. Every group member was looking for their own continuation of their journey. Their next routes now depended on the destinations the ships took that docked here. Hey, there even were cargo and mail planes! He knew there'd been some in Sao Paulo, too, but none heading in the right direction. He had kind of hoped that their ship would continue to take them all the way to Tokyo from the Port of Santos since that had been a proper trade route at some point. He had grown to like these guys. But maybe it was better that way. Nii had gotten pretty sick along the way, a summer cold or something. Nothing too serious, she had said. But they still had needed medicine. They still would have had to separate here.

Just as he came to the foyer, he noticed the devil had already appeared before him.

"Speak of the devil!" Kazuya exclaimed.

At the front entrance, there was a yellow shape. A short woman clothed from head to toe in yellow was busily fastening her yellow boots. Well, she wasn't really dressed all in yellow. She had a yellow raincoat with white dots and fitting yellow rain boots. It goes without saying that she was exceedingly over-prepared. It was a hot day as any other, and the light rain served as a short resuscitation at best. But then again, she had been sick. Speaking of which

"Are you all right again?"

"I'm as fit as a fiddle," Nii said while jumping to her feet. She had a bright smile on her face.

"Huh? Well, if you say so. So, what are you up and about?"

"I'm heading out to town," she said, her smile growing even brighter. "I'm looking for something!"

"For something?" He aligned next to her as they left the building.

"Yep!" she said while pivoting in front of him, her smile never leaving her face. She was literally radiating energy. Literally, he felt as if she gave off heat, like an engine in overdrive.

"What's that something?" he smirked at her. It felt like years had fallen off of the girl, and girl was the proper term to describe her. She could have easily hidden amongst the teens, and no one would have been any wiser concerning her age.

She began to jump around and dance to an invisible orchestra.

"Haha! You're curious, aren't you!" she looked at him impishly.

"Now, now. Don't be so mean to an old man!"

"I'm looking for a souvenir for my brother," her features suddenly softened into a sweet smile, her voice carrying a melancholic melody. "There was something he'd asked of me, and I obviously can't go back home without it, the reliable little sister that I am!"

At that, her voice grew energetic once more, and she turned her head back to the front. She didn't seem to be planning on saying any more than this. And to his surprise, she began to sing a song, one that had once inspired him. A song he once had known and loved deeply. Its title was

[カシオピア係留所]

♫

Kazuya's childhood wasn't necessarily the happiest one could imagine, but he had learned how to do with what he got. From early on, he had channelled this never-ending energy dwelling within him into creativity: he formed a band and joined an acting troupe. And he was pretty successful at both, naturally, not in a money-making sense, but as a pastime. He had always been surrounded by free-minded and creative spirits and had truly good friends. He had found his place in the world, had carved it out and continued to live within it. It was a world he didn't always find beautiful but a life worth living, nonetheless.

He continued to go about his creative endeavours until it finally landed him a job, though not in the form he had initially imagined. He had spent his days working part-time jobs and the nights playing in clubs around Tokyo until he had a devout followership, though that, too, hadn't been his intention. He had always had a knack for socialising and truly getting along with everyone worth getting along with, though that was a skill he never quite acknowledged himself. He just always did what he wanted to and lived the way he wanted to, to the best of his abilities. And that had ultimately led to him being quite the likeable fellow. He was, after all, naturally charming and kind, the best prerequisites to be liked for being you.

His big breakthrough came about when he performed in a play put on by old school friends. There just happened to be someone in the audience who could make him big, and it just so happened that his performance was outstanding enough or rather so excellent it could only fit on the big screen. To say it was merrily a matter of luck was preposterous.

With his acting carrier, he hadn't much time left for anything else, and he began to perform seldom and ever more seldom in clubs until he disappeared from the music scene altogether. At first, he didn't hate that as he was doing something he really loved and could give his everything. At some point, he realised that many of his old friends and fans had begun to leave him, but he simply didn't have the time to think too much about it. There was always a next huge project waiting for him.

And it didn't take long until Japan grew too small for him.

And at that point, he wished someone would have told him to hold onto his good friends, to realise the treasure he had already held in his hands before it was too late.

He lost himself. He had lost his way. He had been blinded by a glittering light, and before he knew it, he was all alone and far away from home.

It was on a cold winter night that he found himself in a white hospital room. He had had a breakdown. Starring at the white ceiling, he began to question his life decisions; he began to question his life. It was on one of these days on which he was busy brooding twisted thoughts and losing himself in the darkness that he found light. A western guitar was leaning against the hospital room wall adorned with a ribbon on which was written

[冬夜さまへ。あなたに花束の代わりにこれを差し上げる。道しるべとして使ってください。生きてくれてありがとう。 あなたのファンナンバーワン。]

It was a clumsy letter, a clumsy letter someone had written with all their might. As he moved closer to take up the guitar, he noticed that there was a package lying next to it. Inside was a music player, half of its space already filled with songs. He brought both of them back to his bed. He plugged in the earphones; he started listening to the music;

the song that was playing was

[ カシオピア係留所]

And he heard an old song, one he once had loved deeply and a sound that had once inspired him to make music.

And he started crying.

And he began to yearn to make music of his own again.

And he began to play an old song, one that someone somewhere loved deeply.

♫

Afterwards, Kazuya moved to his uncle in Sao Paulo to begin a new chapter in his life. But that is a story of another world and for another time.

♫