Fireflies by Ben Byrne Read Free Book Online Page B

path, squirming with embarrassment. After a while, I heard Tomoko’s footsteps. I hardly dared look at her as she fell into step beside me.
    â€œSo what about you, Hiroshi-kun?” she asked. “What about Asakusa? Was it really as exciting as all the songs used to say?”
    I glanced at her in relief, thankful to be changing the subject. “Haven’t you ever heard of the Sanja Matsuri?” I asked. “It used to be the best festival of them all!”
    A smile appeared on her face. “Is that so?”
    â€œWhat?” I said. “You country bumpkin. Everyone knows that!”
    She laughed as I told her about the rowdy celebrations that took place in our neighbourhood every year in honour of the founders of Senso Temple: the swollen crowds; the bulging-eyed men who carried the three enormous portable shrines up to the temple, swaying and crashing into the narrow buildings on each side of the alley as they passed.
    â€œDid you ever carry a shrine, Hiroshi?” Tomoko asked.
    I hesitated. “Well, yes, of course I did. One of the smaller ones, a little mikoshi . But you should have seen it! It was covered with real gold . . . ”
    I blustered on, hoping to thrill Tomoko with tales of Asakusa. But the truth was, I couldn’t really remember much about the time before the Pacific War, the days that my parents had always talked about — the golden wooden horses in Hanayashiki Park and the jugglers at Asakusa Pond.
    â€œIt all sounds wonderful,” Tomoko said.
    I noticed her small white hand by her side. For some reason, I had a mysterious urge to pick it up and hold it.
    â€œMaybe we could go there one day,” I said. “They’re showing American films again now. I could show you Senso Temple if you like.”
    Tomoko stopped walking. She looked at me quizzically.
    â€œHiroshi-kun, would you really?” she asked.
    â€œWell,” I stuttered. “Not that there’s much left of it, of course.”
    She tilted her head ever so slightly. Her cheeks were glowing.
    The shadows were stretched in the copses by the time we got back to the tracks and sat down to wait for a train to come along. After a while, Tomoko murmured that she was hungry. As I looked at her pale face, I realized that in fact, she was starving, and was trying to hide the fact by sheer willpower.
    I cursed myself, thinking that I should have brought some food with us. I wondered whether I should try rummaging about in the nearest farmer’s field. But just then, a blue-green four-car train came creaking toward us along the track, and I jumped up.
    â€œCome on,” I said, “Hurry!”
    â€œHiroshi —” Tomoko was struggling to stand. “I’m so dizzy.”
    I grabbed her hand and pulled her along as the train shuttled closer. A coupling came alongside us, and I leaped up, gripping onto the rail. But Tomoko stumbled, and for a second, I was dragging her along the ground, my arm being wrenched out of its socket. With a great heave, I hoisted her up and she fell into my arms. Her body was a dead weight. She had fainted.
    I struggled to pull her up, grasping her under the armpits to stop her from falling from the accelerating train. Somehow I managed to shove her between me and the carriage, steadying her with an arm around her waist as the train rattled on. She let out a moan and buried her head against my chest. A scent came from her hair, and her breath fell in hot, delicate waves against my neck.
    She made a small sound. As she looked up, the colour slowly came back into her cheeks. I realized my hand was sitting on the bump of her chest and I quickly wriggled around so that I was standing behind her.
    â€œThank you, Hiroshi-kun,” she mumbled. She turned to face the locomotive, clutching onto the carriage for balance. She looked into the distance as the engine gave a long bellow and the train sped up, its wheels clattering faster and faster along the