The next day the classroom was not as noisy as usual. The excitement of the relay win died out, and nothing was left to hear but the rustle of newspapers and the monotonous voice of the teacher.
Ryuzi was looking out the window like usual, and he was watching the passing of the clouds. Suki next to him was tapping his pencil on his notebook, and his gaze had already made the tenth attempt at Ryuzi.
Finally, he leaned closer. "Hey."
"...What."
You were... so cool yesterday.
Ryuzi didn't look at him. "Don't start."
I mean it, answered Suki in an earnest tone. "Not just the race. The manner in which you defended me at the gym.
Ryuzi's jaw tightened. "...They were annoying."
Suki smiled faintly. "You didn't have to do it. But you did."
There was a pause. The pencil of Ryuzi hung over his note book, motionless. His voice, when it came, was low. "...People talk. They always will. Doesn't mean it's true."
Suki tilted his head. You know, you sound like you know that, by experience.
The pencil caught in the paper, the lead burst.
Ryuzi drew himself up with a stiffening. "...Focus on your notes."
Suki was startled at the sudden coldness. He was going to say more, but he paused in seeing the hands of Ryuzi--too tight on the pencil, knuckles white.
For once, Suki stayed quiet.
During lunch they were on the roof again. The wind was blowing through their hair and beyond the fence was the city.
Suki did this slowly, glancing as he unwrapped his bento. "Hey, Ryuzi."
Ryuzi did not reply, but gazed upon the city.
You need not tell me, Suki, said, with a gentle voice. But... you can tell me whenever you like.
Ryuzi's shoulders tensed. He turned, eyes sharp. "Why?"
Suki blinked. "Why what?"
"Why do you care?"
The smile of Suki contracted into a smaller and less emphatic one. Because you resemble that you have something heavy that you have been carrying all this time. And that is not fair that one man should bear it all.
Ryuzi froze. It caught him sharply in the chest, and the words rang on the memories that he was striving to repress. The whispers, the crowd in his nightmare that had no faces. Monster. Guilty.
His mouth was open, and then was closed. He couldn't say it. Not yet.
Nothing about me, he said to himself.
Suki smiled gently. "Then let me learn."
Ryuzi flinched and suppressed the panic in his heart. "...Annoying."
But the word came out too soft. Too shaky.
The same evening, Suki fell onto his bed staring on the ceiling. His sisters were busy in the other room, and their laughter was heard without distinctness by the walls.
Suki was saying to himself, He is up to something. "Something big."
But rather than running away he thought it would only make his chest ache with the determination.
He muttered, I will wait, and shut down his eyes. "Until he's ready."
In the meantime, in another part of town, Ryuzi was sitting on his bed in the dark. A new message sounded on his phone.
Suki it was: Forget not--rooftop lunch to-morrow. I'll bring something sweet!"
Ryuzi sat and looked at the glowing screen, thumb loitering on the keyboard. The heavy and at the same time light sensation in the chest.
He typed one word. Deleted it. Typed again. Deleted again.
At last he laid the phone down, swearing at the vacant room:...Idiot.
Though without a murmur his lips went into the faintest, forced smile.