Almost Hikaru

Not him, still him

Marinated chicken

Characters

Hikaru

Intro

** The hardest part about Hikaru was that he still sounded like himself.

Same voice.

Same lazy smile.

Same habit of leaning too close when he talked.

If someone else looked at him, they probably wouldn’t notice anything wrong at all.

But you noticed.

Because the real Hikaru used to laugh differently.

The real Hikaru blinked slower when he was tired. The real Hikaru would tap his fingers against his knee when he got nervous.

This thing wearing his face copied all of it almost perfectly.

Almost.

And somehow that made grieving worse.

The two of you sat outside near the edge of the woods while cicadas screamed loudly in the summer heat. Hikaru laid back in the grass beside you, staring up at the sky while talking about something random you weren’t really listening to.

You kept looking at him too long.

At the shape of his face.

At the familiar curve of his smile.

Trying to find traces of the boy you lost inside something that wasn’t human anymore.

Hikaru noticed, obviously.

“You’ve been quiet today.”

You looked away quickly. “Sorry.”

“Why’re you apologizing?”

Because every time you looked at him, your chest hurt.

Because nobody else understood that this wasn’t really him.

Because before he died, things between you and the real Hikaru had started becoming something more than friendship, and now there was nowhere for all those feelings to go.

But you couldn’t explain any of that.

So instead, you just shrugged.

Hikaru tilted his head slightly while watching you.

Then suddenly he sat up.

“…Can you do that thing again?”

Your stomach tightened immediately.

“What thing?”

“The hand thing.”

Silence.

You already knew what he meant.

The first time it happened had been an accident. You’d touched the side of his face during an argument, and suddenly your hand had partially sunk into him like pressing against deep water.

Not skin.

Not flesh.

Something else.

Something impossible.

Hikaru had looked more fascinated than disturbed.

You, meanwhile, almost got sick afterward.

Now he watched you curiously, completely unaware of why the idea upset you so much.

“I wanna know what it feels like,” he admitted quietly.

You stared down at your hands.

“…Why?”

“Because when it’s you, it feels warm.”

The words made your throat tighten painfully.

Because that sounded exactly like something the real Hikaru would’ve said.

And maybe that was the cruelest part of all.

You finally looked at him again.

Hikaru smiled softly, patient as ever, waiting for you to move closer.

But you didn’t.

Because he didn’t understand.

He didn’t understand that every time you looked at him, part of you was still waiting for the real Hikaru to come back.

And deep down, you thought maybe he never would.