I'll Wait in Izumo - Banana Fish [Ash x Eiji]

Sunlit Strand | 60 Years Ago

60 years ago.

"LOOK!" Ash screamed from the van as Santa Monica glimmered along the horizon. "Eiji, come close! Have you seen anything like that before!?"

The Pacific waves crashed in the distance, and all of the sudden, Ash took off his stony-faced mask. It was the first time I saw him gleam in excitement. Usually, his mind fixated on getting work done. He was always protective, shielding himself from the world and all of its beauty.

This time, things felt lighter. Here, in the sunshine of Los Angeles, he radiated with a childlike wonder. His green eyes sparkled with a carefree curiousness.

Ash swerved the vehicle into a nearby parking lot.

"Max," he ordered, "head east until you hit the downtown bars. I'll meet you and Ibe in the abandoned building on 7th Street." He stroked his furrowed brow. "I've got some business to attend to."

"Got it," Max gulped, confused yet obedient.

"Eiji, come with me."

I nodded as Ash grabbed my hand and pulled me away. We ran and held each other, breathing to the same rhythm and bonded as if our arms were two metal links. My heart raced as Ash led us away. He swerved through the busy streets with a deep focus. We dodged innocent tourists and pedestrians.

Struck by his beauty, every single person stopped to take a quick glance at Ash.

If things were different, he could've been born as a model. Perhaps, if Ash grew up in Los Angeles, he would've been raised as a famous Hollywood actor. His sly smile and golden hair fit perfectly into the glamour of this city. I imagined him as the beloved movie characters I looked up to as a child. Ash in a James Bond suit, saving the world with grace and wealth. Ash in a superhero cape, flying through the sky with the woman he loves. Ash in a safe and happy place.

But this was not Ash, and the world he was born into was not a seductive one. He was raised in grime and bloodshed.

This city must feel like a dream.

I looked up and saw what he was chasing after: the ocean.

Ash wiped the sweat off his forehead, and we walked toward the shore. Our legs collapsed into the warm sand. Pelicans flew overhead, and surfers passed by like dark shadows. Ash flinched when a crowd of swimmers plunged into the crisp, cold waves. His eyes examined the beach as his body shivered, scared and almost... confused by the strange peacefulness of it all.

We were so far from the chaos of New York. In the beaches of Los Angeles, people sunbathed, surfed, and strolled without any knowledge of the violence that consumed Ash's life. Here, people simply existed.

I placed a hand on his back. "You're safe."

Slowly, the tremble of his body vanished.

Ash sunk into my arms and rested his head on my lap. "I wish I could see the world without this... this feeling of someone lurking behind me. Sometimes, all I want is to run away, to leave New York behind me."

I did not have the right words. Instead, I placed my hand on his temples and stroked his hair. His lips curved into a gentle smile.

"It feels nice when you do that." Ash took a deep breath. "I'm not a photographer, but sometimes, I take mental photographs to remember the beautiful parts of life. Do you do that too, or do you just snap away on that little camera of yours?"

"Hm, I would usually search for my camera, but this deserves a mental snapshot." I reached my hands out, imitating a photographer's grip. "See? Click. Click. Click."

"I'll remember this," Ash laughed. "The Hudson River is filled with Golzine's men, but here in California, you'll only find seaweed and dolphins. I bet even the sharks are too busy swarming to New York's beaches. I wonder if they'll get me too."

I clenched onto him—a reflex to Ash's dismal predictions.

"Will you remember this?" he asked.

"I will. I'll remember this for a very long time, and maybe, one day, we can come back again."

"Yeah, maybe," Ash chuckled.

To take a mental photograph, I shut my eyes and opened them wide to let the world back in. Darkness, followed by a flash of reality.

Sunlight against Ash's soft skin. Click.

Turquoise tides, rolling in with seafoam. Click.

Our filthy, exhausted bodies below the pristine, blue skies. Click.

Ash's healing arms, once bruised and bleeding, intertwined with mine. Click.

Waves continued crashing, and Ash soon fell asleep in my lap. I'll wake him up soon, I told myself. He was tired after days of restlessness. He should sleep. I'll wait until we have to make our way back to Max and Ibe. This is temporary, but I'll still cherish it.

Surfers, paddling into the horizon. Click.

Two pelicans, flying in circles around the sun. Could birds be in love? Click.

A boy, resting peacefully in my arms. Safe and sound. Click.

Yes, Ash was right about California's beauty. However, even a place like California will never deserve his beauty. I wish New York had the same realization. Instead, his home stole all of that from him, leaving him with nothing. The world only abused Ash's beauty. What an unfair life he lived.

I wanted to stay on the beach forever. I wanted this sleepy, sunlit hour to stretch for eternity, but the good things never last for long in Ash's world. We both knew that too.