she’d depended on Yuu as though he were her husband. He said he had to kiss her cheek every night before going to bed, so I’d gotten him to promise to reserve the proper kiss for me.
“What about you, Natsuki?”
“I’ll be here all through Obon too!”
“Great! Uncle Teruyoshi bought some big rockets for the fireworks this year. He said we’ll let them off on the last night.”
“I’m looking forward to the sparklers too!” I said excitedly.
Yuu gave a little smile.
“Will you go looking for the spaceship again this year?”
“Sure, if there’s time.”
“But you won’t go away with the aliens straight away, will you?”
Yuu shook his head. “I won’t, I promise. Even if I find it, I’d never leave without saying goodbye to you, Natsuki.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d pestered Yuu to take me with him in the spaceship, but he’d said he couldn’t. He promised to come back for me sometime, though. He was sweet but strong-willed.
I had the feeling he might disappear at any moment. I wanted to become an alien, too, and I felt jealous of him having somewhere to go home to.
“Yota said he was secretly going to open up the well, without the grown-ups knowing.”
“The old well that’s been closed up forever? I want to see it!”
“Sure, let’s go see it together. And Uncle Teruyoshi said he’d take us to go watch fireflies once it gets dark.”
“Brilliant!”
Yuu took everything seriously, and whenever he saw something strange he wanted to know all about it. Uncle Teruyoshi loved telling us about this house and the village, and he ended up spending more time with Yuu than anyone else.
“Yuu! Natsuki! Come downstairs and have some of this cold watermelon,” an aunt called.
“Let’s go.”
Yuu and I left the attic still holding hands.
“Afterward let’s go play together, Natsuki.”
“Yes, let’s.”
I nodded, feeling myself blush. I was so happy to be with my boyfriend again.
Dad was one of six siblings, and the extended family gathering for Obon was always madness. We couldn’t all fit in the living room at once, so the sliding doors between the two large tatami rooms at the end of the house had been removed, and a long, low table was set up with cushions on the floor for our meals.
The house was full of bugs, but nobody made a big deal of it. Back home in Chiba even a small fly would cause panic, but Mom and my sister never made a fuss about the insects in Granny’s house. The boys would eagerly run around killing them with a flyswatter, but even so there were still always flies and grasshoppers and bugs I’d never seen before crawling around the room.
All the girls old enough to help went to the kitchen to make dinner. Even my sister was quietly peeling potatoes.
I was put in charge of dishing up the rice. There were two rice cookers sitting side by side. I filled bowl after bowl as six-year-old Ami, the daughter of one of my cousins, put them onto a tray and carried them through to the long table in the tatami room, helped by Cousin Mari.
“First lot of rice coming up! Make way, please!”
Cousin Mari slid open the kitchen door, and she and Ami went past the family altar to where the uncles were sitting around one end of the table waiting.
“Stop daydreaming and get that rice served!” Mom yelled at me from where she stood tending the pans on the stove.
“Oh, come now, Natsuki’s doing a great job,” Granny said, glancing over at me as she cut slices of a stinky seaweed jelly that I hated.
“That child is hopeless. She can’t do anything properly. I get tired just watching her. It gets on my nerves. Yuri, on the other hand, is doing so well, though. She’s already in junior high, isn’t she?”
I was used to Mom saying I was hopeless. And she was right, I really was a dead loss. The rice I dished up just lay flat in the bowl instead of being nicely mounded.
“Look how messy that is! Just let Yuri take over. Such a clumsy child.” Mom sighed.
“That’s not true! She’s doing very well!” an aunt said, flattering me.
I carried on serving the rice as best I could, hoping nobody else would call me a loser.
“That red bowl is Uncle Teruyoshi’s, so be sure to give him lots, okay?” my aunt told me. I piled on as much as the bowl would hold.
“It’s already dark,” someone said. “Not long now before we have to go welcome the ancestors.”
“They’ll soon be lighting the bonfire to guide them to us.”
I thought I’d better hurry up and quickly reached for the next bowl.
“Hey, we’re going to light the fire now!” Uncle Teruyoshi called from the front door.
“Oh, it’s time! Natsuki, we’ll deal with this. Off you go, now!”
“Okay!” I said, handing my aunt the rice scoop as I stood up.
I could hear insects chirring outside. Darkness had fallen, and the world beyond the kitchen window was now the color of outer space.
All of us children followed Uncle Teruyoshi. At the river he would light the fire to welcome the spirits of our ancestors on their annual visit home for the Obon festival.
Yuu was carrying an unlit paper lantern, and I had a flashlight.
The Akishina mountains were in darkness. The river we’d been splashing around in last summer was now so black it felt as though it would swallow us up. As Uncle Teruyoshi set fire to a bundle of straw on the riverbank, our faces glowed orange in its light. We did as Uncle told us and faced the flames.
“Dear Ancestors, please use this fire to guide you to us,” Uncle Teruyoshi said.
“Dear Ancestors, please use this fire to guide you to us!” we all shouted in unison.
As we stared at the burning straw, Uncle Teruyoshi said, “Right then, they must be here by now. Light the lantern, Yota.”
When he said they were here, little Ami let out a strangled shriek.
“You mustn’t shout,” Uncle told her. “You’ll startle them.”
I gulped.
The flame was gently transferred from the straw to the lantern. Yota picked it up and staggered slightly as he cautiously carried it to the house,
