Fireflies by Ben Byrne

track. The last light of sunset was bleeding over the trees and bright gold glinted from the windows and the rails. As we raced back toward Tokyo, I felt a quiver in my belly, as the smoke from the locomotive puffed around us, and the wind whipped her hair back into my face.
    ~ ~ ~
    It was dark by the time we clambered down from the train at Ueno Station, and the children were bitterly disappointed that our bamboo cages were empty. Tomoko took the kids off to try to scrounge something to eat while I wandered away on my own, filled with the urge to lose myself in the uneasy magic of my sensations.
    Not far from the railway arches was a wide bomb crater with tumbledown houses leaning over it. It was flooded with dark water, and the bubbles that rose to the surface every now and then burst with such a revolting smell that I normally steered clear of the place. But that evening, as I passed, a glint caught my eye and I froze. Over on the far bank, there was a tiny pulse in the air, a bright, thrilling glow, like a green star. I clambered around the rim of the crater to the far side and squatted down to get a closer look. It was just as I’d thought, though I could hardly believe it was possible so late in the year. Fireflies were floating up and down by the muddy bank, like ghostly little lanterns.
    I took a matchbox from my pocket and shook it empty of tobacco strands. I held it open, and caught one of the creatures at the top of its ascent. Then I slid the drawer shut with my thumb, slipped the matchbox into my pocket, and hurried back to the station.
    ~ ~ ~
    Koji gave a whimper when he saw me coming through the slumped crowds of the ticket hall. He rushed over and grabbed my arm.
    â€œBig brother, you’ve come back!”
    â€œOf course I have.”
    â€œShin said you were gone!”
    Beneath the concrete stairwell, Shin was sitting cross-legged on the floor. The children looked tearful. When Aiko saw me, she gave a squeal of relief.
    â€œWhat’s been going on here?” I said.
    Shin gave a moon faced grin and stared up at the ceiling.
    â€œHe said you were leaving us!” Aiko said. “That you don’t like us anymore.”
    â€œIt was a joke,” said Shin. “You damned cry babies!”
    I put my hand in my pocket. There was a tiny flicker inside the matchbox.
    â€œShut up. I’ll deal with this in the morning. Let’s all just get some sleep.”
    The children curled up on their mats under the stairs. An old woman with a black shawl around her neck lay beside us, rasping. The station lights were extinguished, and the hall grew heavy with sleep.
    I lay there in the darkness, wide awake, listening to the snores and night murmurs around me. I held the matchbox in my palm, imagining the creature trapped there in its miniature chamber of darkness, its body welling with light.
    The children were dead to the world now, breathing quietly with their mouths open. Koji frowned and snorted in his sleep. Beside him, Tomoko lay very still, her lips slightly parted, the thin blanket over her shallow ribcage gently rising and falling. I reached over and tugged her leg. She moaned in her sleep, then shifted. I pulled her leg again, and this time she jerked awake with a gasp and sat bolt upright. When she saw me, she rubbed her eyes. I beckoned to her. Frowning, she edged forward. I held out the matchbox in my palm, and then pushed the drawer open. She gasped as the light pulsed in the box, and a faint green glow lit up her eyes.
    She took the box from my palm and pushed the drawer open all the way. Suddenly, the creature flew up and out of the box, and hung, suspended in the air between us. We looked at each other in silent delight. She gestured to the ground beside her. I carefully clambered over Koji’s body, and we both lay down and watched the firefly spiral slowly up and down. I could feel the warmth of her cheek next to mine as she fumbled for my hand. She picked it up and