And then Ren said, “I don’t want you to fall.” Nothing could have prepared Yuki for the brutality of those words. He knew this was bound to happen, but the timing was terrible. And Ren saying it nonchalantly was beyond the pale.
“You could have at least picked a better time and place,” Yuki grumbled as the lump in his throat grew. He wanted to jump off and bolt, but the shock kept him firmly in his seat.
Everything would change after this painful conversation. No more hangouts. No more guitar sessions. No more video games. No more back-rides to the school. It was over.
For a while, Yuki had been practicing the perfect response to whatever Ren would say, however he would say it. Yet, no words came out of his mouth. The shock was crushing. He began mulling over how to salvage their friendship after this, but he realized that could wait. The most important thing at that moment was to run away and save his face.
He cocked his head to check Ren’s demeanor, hoping to detect even the slightest trace of remorse. Nothing. His shoulders were erect, hips not twitching, and neck unstrained. Clearly, Ren didn’t care how Yuki felt—a shameless display of apathy that was more than enough for the message to sink in.
“I already did.” That was all Yuki could say.
He thought of reassuring Ren that he wouldn’t get in the way of his future relationships, but he was too scared and mortified to say more. All he wanted at that moment was to shrink back into his shell and disappear.
“What do you mean?” Ren innocuously asked.
Yuki looked up again, perplexed. He wasn’t planning to answer, but those words made him realize something wasn’t right. Oh no, he got it all wrong.
“I said hold on tight, or you might fall,” Ren continued.
Awkward silence followed.
Yuki’s eyes widened, and his grip tightened. He was so ashamed that he started fiddling in his seat, causing the bike to wobble. Almost losing control, Ren abruptly pulled over. The force was too strong Yuki lunged forward, shoving his face into Ren’s shoulder blades.
“Gomen, gomen!” Ren landed his feet on the sidewalk and turned to check on Yuki.
“Are you okay?” He politely asked, his voice laced with worry and bewilderment.
“I’m fine,” Yuki replied.
“Did you say something back there?” Ren became curious about what Yuki had said earlier.
“No, I didn’t.”
Realizing he had almost randomly confessed his feelings and was a poor excuse away from being found out, he resorted to playing dumb, hoping Ren would let it go.
“I thought I heard you say…”
“It was nothing. Come on. Let’s go. We’re going to be late.”
Yuki tapped Ren’s right flank to force him to hit the road again. He was lucky the innocent driver didn’t dig in his heels. Ren then set his bike upright and clamped down harder.
But before stepping on the pedals, he grabbed Yuki’s left arm and pulled it close to his stomach. Yuki’s chest was now snugly pressed against Ren’s back, his left arm buckled on his six packs. The jitters he had been hiding throughout the journey now fluttered violently against Ren’s body.
The only time Ren had his back drilled like that was when he sat on one of those massage chairs at Atre. It was strangely satisfying. He didn’t know Yuki could mimic its energy but provide his body with ten times the comfort.
“By the way, did you bring the songbook?” Ren asked, his eyes locked on the road.
“Oh shoot! I forgot to put it in my bag. Can I bring it tomorrow instead?” Yuki replied, feeling bad for screwing up.
“You have one job, Yuki! You baka!” he told himself off.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll just drop by your house tonight.”
It looked like Ren needed it badly.
“I might not pick you up later, though. I have to leave early. We have to be at the airport before six,” he added.
“Oh, your father’s coming home, I remember. You told me last week.”
Ren’s father had worked as a mechanical engineer in South Korea for half a decade before deciding to return home and start his own business.
“Yep! And I bet he’ll have presents for all of us. I have a feeling he bought me a guitar.”
“I see. That’s why you need that book today. But why didn’t you ask about it at the house?”
“I forgot. I was busy fixing your necktie.”
“Heh? So it was my fault?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But that’s what you meant.”
“No, it’s not.”
They laughed it off as the bike stopped near the school gate. It was still early, and they had 45 minutes until the start of class.
“We made it, thank goodness. Kenta is worried sick about his journal,” Ren said crossly, apparently taking offense at Kenta’s relentlessness.
“You can’t blame him, though. We’ve been late many times, remember? You know how strict Emi sensei is,” argued Yuki.
“How would you know? She hasn’t taught your class yet,” Ren rebutted, unwilling to give up.
“Because you’ve told me many times. Whenever we talk about school, all I hear is how annoyed you are with her. So somehow, I get the picture.”
“Fair enough.”
The two split up on the second floor. Ren’s classroom was on the third floor, adjacent to the library, while Yuki’s was on the second floor, a couple of units away from the stairs.
Kashiwazaki Junior High School was a short distance from the boys’ homes, but it was a ten- to fifteen-minute walk for students coming from around National Route 8. No wonder they preferred cycling to school.
Ren and Yuki spent most of their education in this small section of the ward. There was no reason for them to study elsewhere, as their current and future schools sat next to each other.
“Hey, what took you so long? Did you bring my journal?”
“Oh shit! I forgot. I can’t remember where I put it.”
“Maji? Please tell me you’re joking. You know I need to hand it over today.”
“Just kidding. It’s in my bag. Go get it. I’ll take a leak.”
Shimizu Kenta was a typical suburban lad raised to take charge of the family business someday. They ran a sento and a craft shop, both thriving.
He lived west of the rail track, a few blocks from Minato Park, allowing him unlimited access to the beach, where he loved strolling to take his mind off things.
His friends called him ‘gramps’ for obvious reasons. Ill-tempered, thin-skinned, aggressive, but reasonable and dependable. He was the brightest in Ren’s circle.
“Woy, Kenta, have you seen the news this morning? Yabe! They’ve snatched another one. I read somewhere that they are recruiting those kids into their cult. I swear to god, if this keeps happening, I’ll drop out and stay home for a while.”
“Shinji, I doubt those douchebags will take an interest in you.”
“Kenta, you’re so mean. That’s why everyone hates you.”
“By everyone, you mean you?”
Inoue Shinji was the storyteller in the group. His innocence knew no bounds. He believed everything he was told. Deeply immersed in conspiracy theories, he seized every opportunity to tell bizarre tales of the supernatural—curses, reincarnation, aliens, ghosts; you name it, he often had what he claimed to be firsthand encounters to tell about them.
“Hey, Shinji, has Ren arrived?”
“I’m not sure. Ask Kenta.”
“Hey, gramps, have you seen Ren? I need his charger.”
“Restroom, I think. Matte, who are you calling gramps?”
Nakamura Kazuki was the oldest in the group, a year older than most of his classmates. Distinctly quiet and collected, he’s a man of few words. But not timid. Yuki had known him before Ren’s family moved to Kashiwazaki from Tokyo.
Unlike Ren, however, Kazuki rarely hung out with Yuki. He only visited Yuki’s house on special occasions. But they were close friends. Yuki even considered him his best friend. But what about Ren, you ask? Well, let’s just say Yuki didn’t consider him a mere friend.
Downstairs, Yuki’s class had a much lighter and more laid-back setting. It was girl-dominated. Some teachers even teased them, suggesting their class was an extension of Joshi Gakuen.
Only six were boys, and Yuki was only close to two—Sato Ryota and Ikeda Yuto. Yuki had known them since elementary but only got along with them in school because their homes were far apart. Despite having a small gang, Yuki wasn’t shy around his other classmates. It’s true what they say about being with a particular group of people for a long time. You’d eventually become comfortable around them, no matter how reclusive you are. But sometimes, when there are bullies in the class and no one is saying anything, some students do pull the shutters down.
In Yuki’s case, no one in his class had a troubled life lashed out at others. He was not a victim of bullying or overwhelmed by conformity pressure. He was simply more introverted than others. He preferred spending time alone and keeping to himself. But ask him about manga, video games, and other stuff he was interested in, and he would gladly fill you in.
Yuki’s day in school was just as dull as Ren’s. Teachers came and went. Chatters between classes remained loud but empty. Break times flew past them like the bullet train. They also made it through yet another boring hiruyasumi, spending half the time digging into their bento, hoping to find chunks of dishes other than tamagoyaki and yasai that weren’t there while quietly eavesdropping on gossip-laden group chats echoing from every direction. It was all the same.
Nothing worth telling at the dinner table, which explains Ren’s eagerness to dash out. He was so bored and agitated he’d fast-forward time if he could. And after possibly the longest six hours of his life, the bell finally rang.
Ren stood up and rushed through the door like a launched torpedo. Almost everyone downstairs could feel the ceiling shake with his every stride. His father’s plane was arriving in three hours. He needed to get home before four.
Niigata Airport was just a little over an hour’s drive from Kashiwazaki. If they traveled by car, they could be home before 9:00 PM, provided they minimized their stopovers. Shizu, Ren’s sister living in Niigata, mentioned that she would head directly to the airport, so there was no need for them to pick her up from her apartment and potentially get caught in traffic.
At school, Yuki was getting ready to leave. It wasn’t the first time he had had to walk home alone. In fact, he was never completely alone. Others heading eastward took the same route. After gathering his belongings, he stood up and made his way to the door.
To his surprise, Kazuki was waiting in the corridor, casually leaning against the railing, gazing out the window with his elbows propped up and his head turned to the side. He didn’t see Yuki come out.
“What’s up, Kazuki? Are you waiting for someone?” Yuki calmly asked.
Kazuki turned his head forward and stared at him for a few seconds before pushing himself away from the railing and standing upright.
“Who else do you think I come down here to see?” Kazuki haughtily replied.
“I don’t know. Your girlfriend, maybe?”
Baka (バカ): fool, idiot, or stupid
Bento (べんとう): a single-portion, home-packed or takeout meal
Gomen nasai or Gomen (ごめんなさい): I’m sorry, or I apologize
Hiruyasumi (ひるやす): lunch break or noon break
Sensei (せんせい): an honorific title used in Japan to address or refer to teachers, instructors, professionals, or individuals who are considered experts in their respective fields
Sento (せんとう): a public bathhouse
Tamagoyaki (たまごやき): grilled/fried egg
Yabe (やべ): Oh no! or This is bad!
Yasai (やさい): vegetable
