Proofreader: Ying
Second and last part
Part Two
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 boy.
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.
Where did Watermelon go?
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.
FIN
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
ayszhang: Now...what do you think :')
The Story of Two Male Mosquitoes - English Translation by ayszhang is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
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