The house of Aoyama had become silent, and the usual chorus of sisters died away up the stair. Nothing was heard besides the gentle whimper that the lamp produced, and the light it threw over the couch on which Ryuzi was hunched forward, with his hands clasped tightly together.
Suki occupied the opposite side and was waiting. His voice was gentle but firm. You need not bear this all by yourself now. Tell me, Ryuzi. What really happened?"
Ryuzi made no movement long. His throat was sore, and his chest was sore. But the forbearance in the eyes of Suki undermined the silence to such an extent that at last the words came out.
Well, at my old school, said Ryuzi, in a low voice. "There was a girl. She was known to everyone, bright, friendly, always smiling. People thought we were close. We weren't, not really. She was simply nice enough to speak to me whenever no one did.
Suki nodded; he left him room.
One day I was returning home after practicing. The halls were empty. That was what I heard--" His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. "Crying. Struggling. By the time I got to the classroom it was too late.
Suki opened his eyes, but he made no remark.
Ryuzi went on, fists closed, "She was on the floor. "Her clothes torn. Shaking. The men--whoever they were--fled before my eyes could make out their features. I just... froze. I had no idea what to do. She looked so broken." His breath hitched. Then--instinct--I took off my shirt and tied it round her.
The picture was stamped on the back of his eyes. Her weeping, her shaking, his own inability.
Just when somebody entered, Ryuzi said to himself bitterly. I was kneeling there naked on my part with her weeping in my arms. And that was it. The word went round like bush fire--'Takeda hit her.' No one asked. No one cared. It looked guilty enough."
His chest was on fire, his fists clenched very tightly. "And the girl--?"
Ryuzi whispered, "She could not say anything. "She wasn't in her right mind. Shock, trauma... she never denied, never defended me. Maybe she couldn't. Maybe she was too scared. I don't blame her." His voice shook. "But silence was enough. My silence made it worse. I was unable to explain myself. I didn't know how."
His words were like weights in the room.
So I have left them think it, Ryuzi said at length, and with a hollow voice. Since I was unable to save her. And perhaps, in their view, I did not really deserve to be forgiven at all.
The silence was interrupted only by the sound of the lamp. Then--
"Ryuzi."
His head jerked up. The eyes of Suki were flashing, set with a stinging anger that was mingled with something more.
"You didn't hurt her. You tried to protect her."
Ryuzi's throat closed. "...But I was too late."
It does not make you guilty, said Suki in a furious voice. "That makes you human. You did what you were able to do there. You made her dignified when no man would make her. You covered her. You stayed."
The lips of Ryuzi were parted but he made no sound.
Suki drew near and squeezed his hand. That you have had to bear this burden of blame, single-handed, all these years--it says who you are. No one cares as much as you do. You are not the monster they made you out to be. You are the kid who was unable to look away when it broke you.
The words were knocking through the defenses of Ryuzi. The beating of his heart was irregular. His eyes were burning, and he did not restrain the tears that in this instance fell down his face.
"...Idiot," he whispered hoarsely. "Why do you believe me?"
Suki smiled gently and swept his thumb over the shaking knuckles of Ryuzi. "Because I've seen you. I know who you are. I will continue to say so until you think it is too.
Ryuzi's breath shuddered. The weight of what he had crushed in the past did not seem endless, as was usual to him in years. He was not alone with it the first time.