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Joe tries to hold his flashlight steady as Cherry cuts through the chain link fence. A rusted "No Trespassing" sign flaps forlornly in the wind, before the fence gives way with a groan and Cherry grins up at him. "Welcome to Hanayashiki, Japan's oldest amusement park."
"Remind me again why I'm visiting this trash heap instead of studying for finals?" Joe squints at the strange shapes looming out of the darkness. He can just make out the shell of an old ticket counter, a dilapidated striped tent.
"Don't be rude," Cherry's voice is full of mischief, "you'll make the spirits angry."
Joe looks up with a sudden frown. "Spirits?"
"They say the locals cut down an ancient cherry blossom tree to build the park. To this day, evil spirits seek revenge against anyone who dares to wander here after dark."
Joe rolls his eyes. "Great, another violent Cherry Blossom." He gets a hard elbow to the ribs for that, which honestly only proves his point. "Is that why you dragged me here? To protect you from some dead tree's curse?"
Cherry barks out a laugh. "Don't be stupid, I'm not afraid of spirits."
Joe stays close to Cherry's side as they make their way across the fair grounds. The shadows seem to shift and move as they pass, and there's a strange tension in the air. When their arms bump together for the third time, Cherry glances at Joe, eyes curious and cat-like in the growing dark.
They pause in front of an old Fortune Telling machine. Joe presses a few yen into the coin slot, but the doll inside remains still and silent. "Here, I'll read your palm instead," Cherry says suddenly, elegant fingers closing around Joe's wrist.
His touch is feather light as he tracks the major lines: heart, life, fate. A pause. Then his fingertips move to slowly trace the callouses that cross Joe's palm. They both know there are no lines to read there. Joe swallows, suddenly too warm in the cool night air. Cherry glances up at him, then hums thoughtfully. "It says you'll fall on your ass trying to do a Casper Flip." He drops Joe's hand abruptly.
Joe stands, confused, then follows Cherry's retreating figure towards the ferris wheel at the edge of the park. The paint on the cars has long since faded, but the structure itself looks sound. "Race to the top?" Joe challenges, fumbling for something to say. Cherry's eyes sparkle in reply, and then they're off, clattering up steel beams and creaking bars. They reach the top at the same time, laughing and gasping of breath. And this, at least, feels familiar. Joe sprawls out contentedly, one leg dangling out of the open car, his arm slung across the back of the seat. Cherry huffs the soft pink hair out of his eyes, and shoves Joe over. They sit in easy silence, watching the distant lights of the city.
"It wasn't because of the ghost story," Cherry's voice is quiet. "Coming here I mean. I actually—I used to come here as a kid."
They're still kids, of course, still a year away from graduating high school. But Joe knows Cherry means before calligraphy masters, and summer programs for the gifted, before the strain of heavy expectations carved dark circles under his tired eyes. "I guess—I just wanted to show it to you." Cherry's expression is open, unguarded. And something cracks open in Joe's chest, some ferocity of feeling he isn't ready to name.
Cherry is still looking up at him, all golden eyes and dark lashes. And Joe wants to lean in, wants to chase the warmth of Cherry's breath, wants to trace the curve of his lips with his tongue. But before he can move, an unearthly wail and the sound of clanging metal echoes through the empty park. "What the hell was that?" Joe startles upright in a panic.
"I don't know, you idiot, let's just go," Cherry hisses back.
They scramble frantically to the ground, footsteps pounding on the pavement. They burst through the fence, and out into the night, gasping for air between bursts of bright laughter.
They don't talk about it, that almost-moment between them.
But for weeks, Joe dreams of ferris wheels.