Part2

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6.15

A bird chirp brought a new

dawn.

Milk Monster was delighted

to find that he had grown a little bit bigger.

He flapped his wings and

felt light on his feet.

But he didn’t fly in the

end and instead fell clumsily onto the leaf.

And it woke Watermelon.

“Hubbub, what are you doing?”

he asked with sleepy eyes.

“I’m not Hubbub….I’m a

mosquito.”

“Okay. Okay. Birdbrain,

what are you doing?”

Milk Monster continued to

sit on the leaf, depressed.

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t fly…”

Milk Monster was becoming

desperate.

Oh no, this kid had better not be disabled, Watermelon thought.

But he cracked a smile and

said, “That’s no problem.”

Then he flew in a circle

twice, landed, grabbed Milk Monster and took off again.

They flew together for the

first time.

The sun watched this

strange scene from high up in the sky.

It was the first time

Watermelon stayed this close to him on his own accord. With his body so tightly

pressed against him, Milk Monster suddenly had a strange feeling.

“Where are we going?”

“Hungry?”

Only then did Milk Monster

realize he had not eaten for days.

“Yeah!” He gave a forceful

nod, so excited he felt a bit lightheaded.

Why was he excited?

Clearly, it was because of the hunger….

By the time they reached

the flowerbed, Watermelon was a bit tired.

They stopped on a rose

petal, rich in colour like a beauty’s lips or like blood.

“What are we eating?”

Milk Monster asked,

sitting on the petal.

“Honey.”

“Honey?”

Before the question ended,

Watermelon had dove into the centre of the flower.

When Watermelon

reappeared, Milk Monster was zoning out.

When he saw Watermelon, he

asked, “Where’s the food?”

Watermelon didn’t speak.

He approached, stuck their mouths together and passed the honey to Milk

Monster.

“Mom, what are they

doing?” asked a bee.

“They’re kissing, my

child.”

Yes, they kissed. Their

first kiss.

The first kiss of two

mosquitoes.

Dumbly, Milk Monster

accepted the food, but he felt hot like he was burning all over.

He moved his head back and

said, “So hot.”

Watermelon asked, “Where?”

“I…I don’t know…What the

heck was that?!”

“I was feeding you.”

“I can eat by myself!”

“Fine, then show me your

flying.”

Watermelon was maybe just a

little bit angry.

You ungrateful birdbrain, how dare you giggle like that.

That afternoon, the air

was a bit heavy.

The dark clouds hugged the

blue sky and made it disappear. The sun disappeared, too.

“Watermelon, hear me out,

okay?” Milk Monster said earnestly, “I think butterflies are really pre…”

“It’s about to rain,”

Watermelon interrupted.

Milk Monster had barely processed

the words when – wham! – he almost

fainted from being hit by a raindrop.

Mosquitoes were too small

and weak, not to mention he was a malformed mosquito.

Watermelon immediately

took Milk Monster into his embrace and lifted off into the air in search of a

hideout.

He had a hard time

carrying his and Milk Monster’s weight while taking a beating from the rain

drops.

But he gripped the little

fellow tightly and flew like he had never flown before.

When Milk Monster woke, he

was mostly dried.

He saw Watermelon sitting

to the side appearing doleful.

He called hesitantly,

“Watermelon?”

Then, he saw for the first

time Watermelon looking so helpless.

“What do I do…” he

wondered dumbly. “I think I like you, Birdbrain.”

“Eh?” Milk Monster was

confused. “Like me?”

Watermelon nodded.

Then Milk Monster, as

always, ruined the mood.

He asked seriously,

“What’s that? Can you eat it?”

“Eat your ass!” Watermelon

barked, his usual self again.

Then, enraged, he took off

into the air.

“But I really don’t

know…Watermelon!”

Milk Monster wanted to go

after him, but he could not.

He plopped down, helpless,

and began counting his legs.

6.16

He counted from dusk to

midnight, from midnight to dawn, but Watermelon still did not come back.

Milk Monster had never

felt so terrible. It was worse than his fight to be hatched, worse than being

trapped in the chrysalis, even worse than being beat by rain.

Why, why did he leave me behind?

Around noon, Watermelon

flew back.

Milk Monster ran circles

around him, apologizing and expressing how much he had missed him.

Paying no attention,

Watermelon fed him some tree sap and complained, “You’re too small, Birdbrain.

I almost couldn’t find you.”

“But that’s what I am, a

tiny mosquito…”

Milk Monster thought that

mosquitoes were the smallest organisms on earth, and he was the smallest among

the mosquitoes…

That leisurely afternoon,

they lay on a dark green parasol tree leaf.

“Watermelon.”

“Wha?”

“What exactly is…like? I…”

“Well, you can’t eat it,

all right?”

“Oh.”

“It’s…a feeling.”

“Eh?”

“It’s like…feeling like you

miss somesquito.”

“Oh…”

“Get it?”

“No.”

Then followed dead

silence.

“Liking a birdbrain,”

Watermelon started suddenly. “You worry if he’s hungry or sleepy, you worry

he’ll get blown away by the wind, you think about him so much that you can’t

sleep if you’re not by his side, that you suddenly come to love the sun and

hate the rain and enjoy the breeze.”

“What else?”

“You want to fly to the

Arctic with him.” Watermelon felt devastated, his head drooping. “And fly

forever.”

…

“Hee hee, that’s perfect.

I like you a lot!” Milk Monster giggled. “I like you the most!”

“Birdbrain.”

“Erm…”

The low-hanging sun was

spectacular so long as it didn’t set.

“Watermelon?”

“What now?”

“What’s even more than

like?”

“Even more than like?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe…love?”

“Then do you love me?”

“I think…” But before

Watermelon could finish, Milk Monster blurted, “I love you!”

Then he rolled over and

began snoring.

6.17

“Good morning!” Milk

Monster was extremely excited. “It’s the 17th!”

“Mhm.”

“Five more days, five more

days until constant daylight at the Arctic!”

“The Arctic is really

big…there is a North Pole where it’s constant daylight for half a year.”

“What? Then why did you

say the 22nd?”

“That spot is too far, you

idiot,” Watermelon explained. “I said the 22nd because that’s when

the place where constant daylight occurs is closest to us.”

“Yay! Yay!” Milk Monster

clapped. “Then let’s go! C’mon!”

Watermelon sighed. Why did

he have to tell this dumdum about this in the first place?

“Take me there,

pleaaaase.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Take me theeeerrrreeee.”

Milk Monster began wiggling around.

“The Arctic is really

cold!” Watermelon let out a truly angry burst. “You retard!”

“…bu– ”

“No buts, you knucklehead.

Go to sleep!”

“But it’s still bright!”

“Go to sleep!”

“…”

“You bird –”

“Birdbrain! I know!

Hmmph!”

Milk Monster was mad, or

better yet, he was heartbroken.

He felt cheated.

Thus, for that entire

morning, they both ignored each other.

They didn’t realize that

this was a foolish act, one that was wasteful.

Noontime, the sticky honey

made the two mosquitoes go back to normal.

“Let’s go to the Arctic!”

said Watermelon out of nowhere.

“Right now?!”

“Yes, right now.”

“Oh yay!” Milk Monster was

elated, no, he was elevated!

“Oh my Mosquito!”

Milk Monster was surprised

to find himself hovering. “I can fly! Watermelon, I can fly!”

“Yeah.” Watermelon pulled

a tiny smile. He had a lot on his mind.

Thus, in the afternoon,

they embarked heading north.

“Watermelon.”

“Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s take a rest.”

When the sun was about to

set, they landed on a small tree branch.

Milk Monster saw many of

their kind locked together in pairs.

“What are they doing?”

“Copulating.”

“Huh? Why?”

“To have babies.”

“Oh. Let me say hi!”

The fact he could fly now

made him unusually lively. He flew towards the pairs of mosquitoes.

“Hi, bug!” Milk Monster

was always kind of stupid.

“Hubbub yourself,” one of

the mosquitoes said.

“Hee hee, sorry. Are you

copulating?”

“Yuh-huh,” another

mosquito replied.

He looked at the mosquito

by his side and displayed a smile of happiness. “We like each other.”

“You like each other?!”

Hearing that word again, Milk Monster was riled up again. “That’s why you

copulate?”

“Yup.”

“Not to have babies?!”

“That’s just another…”

“Wow, thank you! I’m

leaving now, bye!”

Milk Monster didn’t know

why he was so excited, but he was.

Rejuvenated, he flew back

to Watermelon amid the twilight.

He was panting wildly when

he landed.

“What happened to you?”

asked Watermelon.

“Watermelon…Watermelon…”

“What’s wrong? What’s

wrong?” Watermelon became concerned. The little fellow didn’t look too good.

“Le…Let’s…Let’s copulate!”

What was to come was

inevitable, but Watermelon was still taken aback.

He had not prepared an

explanation.

“We…We can’t copulate.”

“But why?!” For the third

time, Milk Monster felt depressed.

“Because…because we don’t

need babies.”

“You liar! They said they

copulate because they like each other! You liar!” Milk Monster said everything

in one breath and then began turning in circles – this was his way of venting.

“Don’t…” Seeing this,

Watermelon’s heart ached. Although he was willing to copulate with Milk

Monster, there was nothing he could do.

They were both male.

“Those two mosquitoes you

saw, one had hair, the other didn’t, right?”

Milk Monster didn’t reply.

“One had a scary looking

mouthpiece, and the other didn’t, right?”

Not wanting to speak, Milk

Monster merely nodded.

“One is male, the other is

female…” Watermelon looked up mournfully at the darkening sky. “They are right.

We…we are wrong.”

“Why are we wrong? What

did we do?”

“We’re both male…”

“But there’s nothing wrong

with that!”

“But we like each other…”

We like each other. That’s why it’s wrong.

Watermelon thought to

himself.

Milk Monster didn’t speak

anymore because he didn’t know what to say.

They each harboured their own

distinct, tiny piece of sorrow, but they were both just as helpless.

Only the heavens knew how

they made it through that uncanny night.

6.18

When Venus appeared in the

sky, Milk Monster murmured, “Watermelon…” His thin, soft leg touched the other

mosquito. “We’re both male mosquitoes…there’s nothing wrong with that.”

The world seemed to have

gone silent to listen, tranquil and melancholy.

Watermelon didn’t respond.

“We like each

other…there’s nothing wrong with that, either,” he continued carefully, wanting

to express all of his thoughts. “Those are two different matters, no? So…so we

are not wrong…” What silly Milk Monster didn’t say was that this was the most

precious epiphany he had in his mosquito life – regarding the two of them.

“The sun’s up. We should

hit the road,” Watermelon said.

Milk Monster’s head and

wings were drooping low.

“What’s wrong?” Watermelon

noticed now that Milk Monster was wet all over as though he was wearing a light

veil.

“Were you crying?”

Watermelon didn’t know why he thought so, since he knew mosquitoes could not

shed tears.

But he became stubborn for

the first time. “Were you crying?”

Milk Monster ignored him

and took to the air.

Watermelon hurried after

him.

“I’m sorry…” he said. “I

can’t change anything…”

“How much farther until

the Arctic?” Milk Monster instead asked.

“Very far…”

“Can we get there before

dark?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Milk Monster kept flying,

and all seemed peaceful.

How much farther is it? Milk Monster, must you go there? Watermelon thought silently.

For the first time he

realized his insignificance – he was nothing but a mosquito.

We are all too

insignificant before the adamantine rules of nature.

Afternoon, the wind grew

strong.

Under pressure-gradient

force, the air moved along the pressure gradient from high pressure systems to

low pressure systems. Thus, wind was formed.

Nature was always a force

to be reckoned with – Milk Monster was ripped away by the wind.

His head spun and his

vision blurred. The wind was like whips on his body.

Then, he fell to the

ground, unconscious.

When he woke, he found

that he and Watermelon were on a round thing.

It was very big, and it

was very fragrant.

“What is this?” Milk

Monster began to turn in circles.

“An apple,” answered

Watermelon.

Milk Monster studied a

black stick-like thing, exclaiming, “So thick…”

“Heh.” Watermelon’s laugh

sounded unnatural.

“It looks delicious…” Milk

Monster rubbed his thin legs against the apple – slippery. He looked up with an

earnest look. “Can we eat it?”

Watermelon smiled. “I’m

afraid not.”

“Oh…”

“Because there’s no way

for you to eat it, and…”

Suddenly the apple tree

gave a wild jerk, and they quickly took to the air.

A group of large creatures

that looked alike climbed onto the tree and picked some apples, put them in a

bamboo basket and left.

“They’re huge…” said Milk

Monster.

“They’re humans,”

explained Watermelon.

“Humans?” Milk Monster

didn’t get it.

Humans…what giant bugs they are! He

thought.

Then he flapped his wings

and flew towards the humans.

Watermelon did the same

and followed him.

The sky gradually

darkened, but the humans’ houses were as bright as day.

In the middle of the room

was a huge table. Two humans were sitting, discussing something.

“We’ve got lots of bugs

this year. See?” The man held up two apples with holes.

“This can’t go on. I told

you to use the chemicals, didn’t I?” the woman retorted.

“But the government said

not to…” The man sounded helpless.

“Why do you care about

them?!” The woman was a little vexed now.

“True. Then next year…”

Before he finished – slap – the woman hit something.

“What was that?” the man

asked.

The woman clapped her

hands together. “Nothing. Just a mosquito.”

A mosquito?!

Watermelon’s mind went

blank. He recalled that mosquito named Milk Monster tell him in giggles,

“Watermelon! I’m going to eat the apple!”

…

Were those his last words?!

Watermelon began a crazed

search.

He didn’t believe it. He

absolutely couldn’t believe that the birdbrain who was talking and laughing

with him just now could well be dead and in a dozen pieces.

Birdbrain…you forgot…we haven’t gone to the Arctic yet…

Night had finally reached

the room after the lights went off.

Watermelon flew around and

around – he had to at least see the body.

His wings flapped through

disappointment. His temperature seemed full of vitality in the icy air, but the

deathly hopelessness all around him seemed to glow in the dark. Gradually he

grew tired.

But the next moment the hopelessness

disappeared. He saw limbs that belonged to his kind, tattered on the ground.

Short, thin legs, and a

torn, malformed wing.

Suddenly, the

disappointment disappeared.

He thought, he must be dead.

He picked up what belonged

to Milk Monster and slowly took flight – he didn’t know where he was headed.

I will take you to the Arctic.

That was the last thing

that went through Watermelon’s mind before leaving the place.

Behind the wooden table

leg in the dark room was a tiny mosquito’s sigh.

“Watermelon…” he breathed.

“Where are you…”

6.19

This wasn’t a morning. It

was merely a night with light.

Watermelon grew lethargic.

He had no destination.

He was leaning against a

trunk, looking at the limbs.

Every mosquito must meet death, he

thought.

Under the tree, amid the

messy leaves were messy piles of bodies – of bugs.

Watermelon looked at them.

Milk Monster didn’t even

have a whole corpse… Watermelon regretted it.

The idea suddenly occurred

to him that he should find the rest of Milk Monster.

Give him a whole corpse.

Thus, he returned to that

disgusting house.

The same two humans were

there, eating breakfast.

Disgusting humans,

disgusting food, disgusting sounds.

Careful so as not to enter

their field of vision, Watermelon began his search for Milk Monster’s corpse.

When he spotted a tiny,

broken, curled body by the table leg, he nearly fainted.

He flew forward like a

bullet.

“Milk Monster…” His corpse

appeared no different than a live mosquito.

“Milk Monster, we’ll go to

the Arctic.”

He brought the body into

his arms.

Then he heard a tiny moan.

Very tiny.

So tiny a mosquito could

barely hear it.

“Milk Monster!!!”

It was probably the

wildest utterance in Watermelon’s life.

“You’re alive? Milk

Monster!”

“Mhm.” It was a sigh but

also a joyful response.

Watermelon held him tightly

and said to him, “I love you, Birdbrain.”

Although the evening wind

was chilly and he had carried Milk Monster for a day, he was physically tired

but mentally energetic.

“Milk Monster.”

“Mhm?”

“Are you tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s rest.”

They watched the moon

together. The moon was lonely.

“Watermelon…”

“Yeah?”

“Humans…why did they have

to kill me?”

“They’re sick!” Watermelon

spat with venom.

But the reality was that a

human’s hand was the end of many mosquitoes.

“I didn’t do anything

wrong…. I didn’t even eat their apple….”

“They just think we’re

dirty.”

“Dirty?” Milk Monster

didn’t understand.

“Humans are more

bloodthirsty, more filthy, more frightening than mosquitoes. They wear a

priest’s robes and think themselves to be holy saints.”

“Maybe…” Milk Monster

still didn’t understand. But he knew one thing. He didn’t do anything, but

humans wanted him dead.

Fortunately, he was still

alive, and their story continues.

6.20

He was indeed alive but

was extremely weak.

His legs and wing couldn’t

possibly grow back.

June 20th, they

flew back to their birthpond.

Watermelon didn’t tell

Milk Monster that they had only been flying in circles all this time and had

returned to their birthpond which was nearby.

He never planned to take

Milk Monster to the Arctic. He knew very well how ridiculous a fantasy that

was.

They stopped on a leaf

floating on water. The veins spread wildly out in all directions, but the leaf

was weak because it had lost life.

“We’ve returned,”

announced Watermelon.

“What?”

“We’re home.”

“Ha. Ha.” Milk Monster

laughed awkwardly as he scanned the strange yet familiar surroundings.

“We’re not going to the

Arctic?” asked Milk Monster.

“You need rest.”

“Yes, so tired.” Milk

Monster looked at the sun. It was filled with light and heat but was so incredibly

far.

“Milk Monster…”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you…so

stubborn…about the sun?” Watermelon had never understood.

Milk Monster gazed at the

round globe. “I don’t like the cold.”

“Oh…” Watermelon didn’t

know what to say.

I’m here. Why would you be cold?

Watermelon wondered.

He hugged Milk Monster and

said, “Milk Monster.”

“Yeah?”

“I forgot to tell you.”

Watermelon smiled warmly. “Your sun is actually me.”

Milk Monster’s eyes

widened a little.

Perhaps he understood

nothing.

But he said, “Then I’m not

going to the Arctic.”

Watermelon merely kept

smiling. He knew, Milk Monster couldn’t go anywhere.

“How much longer do I

have?” On this desolate, icy night, Milk Monster began to feel death

approaching.

“A long, long time.”

Watermelon caressed Milk Monster.

“Perfect. I can bathe in

the sun for a long time.”

“Me?

“Yup.”

Watermelon smiled

ruefully. They didn’t have much longer.

“I still have so many

things I don’t understand…” It sounded like Milk Monster was leaving his will.

“I mean, we should be able to copulate…”

“Yeah, of course we can.

Let’s copulate after your body recovers,” said Watermelon.

“Hee hee…” Milk Monster

knew it was a lie, but he still uttered it. “We’ll have lots and lots of baby

mosquitoes…”

“Yup, that’s right!”

“Take them to the Arctic…”

“Of course, I will.”

“What about me?”

“You’re coming with!”

…

6.21

The sun rose very early.

Its light was a little too

bright.

“The sun’s up, Milk

Monster,” said Watermelon. “Don’t let it go to waste, all right.”

…

“Get up, now. The

sunshine’s wonderful today.”

…

“Hey, Birdbrain. I’m going

to get mad if you don’t get up.”

…

Watermelon leaned in close

and stuck his face against Milk Monster’s face.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

Then came quietude. The

whole world went silent.

“You’re cold.” Watermelon picked

him up. “I guess we still have to go to the Arctic…”

Thus, he took flight.

6.22

The noon sun was stinging.

Watermelon lay lazily on a tree holding the speechless Milk Monster.

“When are you waking up,

Birdbrain?” asked Watermelon. “I’m bored to death…”

“Mosquito, what is the

matter?” the pine tree asked.

“What’s the matter, you

ask? I fell in love with a male mosquito.”

Then Pine Tree guffawed

until he shed tears.

The aroma of pine

enveloped the two mosquitoes.

And fell to the ground.

This is the ending of the

story.

The two mosquitoes wrapped

in amber grew tired, and instead of flying, went into slumber.

Milk Monster had always

felt cold in this lifetime and wanted to fly to the Arctic where the sun never

set.

But the place he wanted to

go was one where the sun was not warm and where the heat succumbed to the cold.

Perhaps what he needed was

not the sun.

He yearned for the

diminishing temperature that the blazing sun bestowed across a vast distance

while forgetting that the thing that made him fall in love with warmth in the

first place was right beside him.

When ideals falsely

conceal love and other necessities, one sees a path with no end and believes

that to be life.

Watermelon knew all along

they could not go to the Arctic.

What was extremely distant

was not just the distance.

A male mosquito’s life is

merely twenty days.

Whether a lonesome

reincarnation or a repeated tragedy in the next life, he doesn’t understand love while he doesn’t dare to love – they cannot love, so what does it matter

whether they meet again or not?

Water and fire meet and

instantly become memories.

Nobody would ever feel

pity or regret.

.