11 / 7 / 2014
I awaken, remembering I'm in the library of Kishibaru.
Since there is a quiz on plants taking place next week, I'd headed over to the library and grab as many books as I can on the subject. Had pages packed with notes, yes. Even had a recorder on during class.
Still, couldn't hurt to want to know more.
Out the window, the sky is grey and the air is cold. Little white snowflakes float down to the glass from the clouds. They hit the panes and melt and all at once they stop existing. Dull and grey, but soothing too.
Kurogawa shouldn't take too long; school's a relatively short distance from the house. No trouble getting here quickly by car.
But the books I borrowed can't fit in my bag, so I have to carry them all the way to the front of my school and wait for my driver to pick me up.
Predictably, I trip and fall down the stairs; such is what happens. So I stay in the middle of an empty hallway, on the third floor of my school.
I think about how livid Father would be if he saw what'd just happened, and then I hear footsteps.
It doesn't matter, whoever's walking toward me. It doesn't matter who's wearing the white sneakers tapping along the ground. It doesn't matter who is picking up one of my books and handing over to me.
Because in the end, after they give me back my book I can just forget ever meeting her—
"Here."
She has blazing green eyes, large and round like a child's. Raven-black hair drifts over face and flows from her head all the way down to her shoulders, each strand of hair aglow with orange from the sunlight peering through the windows.
She is as tall as I am. Her skin is white, almost like that of alabaster. I can't ignore how the peach freckles peppering her cheeks complement her eyes, and her smile, and the blackness of her hair perfectly.
A Kishibaru blazer meant for female students is wrapped around her waist, its arms knotted on her belly button. Wearing a black skirt, white socks, brown loafers, and a white polo shirt, she smiles a demure smile at me as she hands me my Science book.
The moment I know I won't forget her anytime soon is the moment my eyes drift away from her lips and to the blood red scarf wrapped around her neck and draped over her shoulders.
"Hey, what happened to you?" she asks me, hand still carrying my notebook. "Am I that ugly?"
"N-no," I yelp out, the lump in my throat growing ever bigger by the second, "You surprised me, that's all."
She has an incredulous sort of expression on her face as she furrows her brows, "I surprised you?"
I blink at her, wondering what she'd have thought my reaction to someone suddenly emerging from out of nowhere in the middle of an empty hall would've been. "Is that so hard to believe?"
She shrugs, somewhat trying to look casual, "No. Not really. But I'm glad to finally surprise someone in the good way."
"I...don't—"
"Never mind," she quickly says, grabbing about two of the five books lying around the floor, "where do you live? I'll help you take these home."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah. Sure," she says, as if it's the easiest thing in the world to help someone she's never even met before carry their books all the way back to a house they've never even been to before.
"No, don't. It's fine," I tell her, "I have a car coming…"
She just cuts in, "Then I'll help you take these to the car."
All the while I grasp for a reason as to why she would possibly do something like this so suddenly, " shouldn't do that—"
"Why not?" she asks, again as though doing this is all routine for her.
"Because I was the guy who borrowed these books and it doesn't feel right if someone else just—"
"I'm offering to help you here."
I look at her warily, unknowing what else I could say to her other than "Thank you for your concern, but I can handle this—"
She then drops the books, drops them right to my feet. And my eyes tear themselves away from the red of her scarf and move to the white of her teeth, her lips forming a coy smile. All at once the beauty fades away and all I feel is annoyed.
I ask her, "Why would you—?"
"You don't need my help," she smirks, arms folding.
I take in a very deep breath.
I kneel to the ground and start to pick up my books. But then she punts one of them, sending it three feet away from me.
"Oops," she smirks again.
"...Why did you do that?" I seethe, trying to keep my composure as best as possible.
"You said you didn't need my help," she says again, maintaining her smirk.
I sigh, "You could have handed it over to me."
"Yeah. I could have."
I stand up and head over to get my book, but I stop in my tracks; there is a hand on my shoulder.
"Dude," the girl snorts, chuckling somewhat. "You could just tell me to give it back to you."
I narrow my eyes at her, "You kicked it away from me."
For some reason, her face contorts, like she expected me to react differently. "Are you kidding me? You're letting someone like me push you around?"
I decide to ignore her from this point on.
I don't like how she's addressed me, but I don't really bring it up. Don't want to talk about Dad, or Cybers Communications; not at the moment. So I settle on asking, "How do you know about me?"
She blinks, surprised somewhat, "Everybody knows who you are. Don't you hear the way people talk about you?"
I blink back at her and heave out a small breath, "I...don't really pay attention to those kinds of things."
"Well, you should. It's interesting, hearing the things people say about you..."
I think of asking her about the things that people say. But then I remember I shouldn't care, and instead a more interesting question pops to mind.
"You're not intimidated?"
"Should I be?"
I blink at her, "Wouldn't be surprising if you were."
"Well, I'm not," she says, her chest puffing out as she puts her hands on her hips. "That's for the weak."
"...the weak, huh...?"
"Yeah," she gives me a leery smile, as though she knows of my insecurities in those matters. Then, she picks up my book and hands it over to me.
"Thank you," I said, after managing to pile all the books into a tower again.
"You sure you'll be alright on your own?"
"Yeah. I'm sure."
I walk about a meter or so before all my books fall from my hands again. The girl suddenly bursts into laughter and it quickly gets to the point I fear she'll die if she doesn't get any actual breathing in. I glare at her for a bit as she tries to compose herself. And then I begin picking up my books again, deciding to disregard her if her face purples and she suffocates.
"Oh, come on...," The girl stomps over to me, kneels down, and grabs about half the books before standing up to face me. "I'll carry these books, you carry the others."
.
.
.
Morishige Hikawa is the Chief Technical Director of Cybers Communication. Been selling cellphones, laptops, desktops, and the like since the early 90's and produces enough good-quality product to rival Kirijo Electronics and the Nanjo Group.
While the house I and my father live in is rather small, I still have a driver, valuable pieces of furniture, exorbitantly large paintings hanging by the walls, the works.
I don't really try to show off my wealth around others, but word gets around easily on who I am the son of, and so it becomes all the easier for people who don't know me to back off. Been like this since forever, so I've gotten rather comfortable with being alone.
So you can imagine how I feel right now, with this…girl breathing down my neck.
Soon enough, we are outside the school gates. Waiting for Kurogawa.
I blink, turning to her. "I've just realized I haven't asked you your name yet."
"You only got that now?" she chuckled, brow raised. "I was waiting for hours."
I give her a neutral expression, "We only met each other a few minutes ago."
She nods, "It felt like hours to me."
"Told you to stop sighing," she scoffed.
Something pops up from the corner of the road. The sedan is black and it is boring but it's also shiny as hell and that's good enough for Dad, I suppose.
"The name's Kana." she blurts as the car pulls up.
"Wh-what?"
"Kana Kohaku."
I blink at her again, more than a little eager to get in the car and leave her. "Nice to meet you, Kohaku-san. You're the strangest person I've ever met."
Kurogawa, a man with harsh angles for cheekbones but strangely warm brown eyes, exits the front of the car and gestures.
"Sorry for keeping you. I ran into some trouble," I say to him.
She whispers, "You have a butler, too?"
"Driver."
I head in the car, Kohaku handing me the rest of my books as I take my seat.
"Well, thank you very much for your help today, Kohaku-san," I say in an attempt to sound as formal and forgettable as possible. "I'll see you around—"
"Call me Kana."
I blink at her and I stammer and I blush kind of madly, but I make myself stop freaking out just in time for me to ask, "Your first name?"
"Yeah," she chuckles again, as I flail in my awkwardness. "Just call me Kana."
"Wh-why? Isn't that—?"
She shrugs, "Doesn't matter to me if we just met or if we've been friends for a billion years. Call me Kana. Calling me by my last name is too formal. Not used to it."
The way she says it all so casually shames me, and in my shame I can't help but mutter out a meek, "So...K-Kana, thanks for your help."
"...can I ask a favor of you?" she suddenly says. "I know it's on extremely short notice, but…could you help me study for the quiz we've got on this?"
I blink at her again. "You're...in the same class as I am?"
"You never noticed."
I shake my head, "S-sorry..."
It's her turn to sigh, now, "Look...I know we didn't really start off on the right foot. I've seen your scores. You do really well at quizzes...and I'm dumber than a bag of hammers. I really want to do better in schoolwork, but it's hard for me. Please...throughout the week, can you help me?"
"No."
She blinks. "N-no?"
"You read the books incrementally. Day by day. You read the lessons at your own pace. Doing problems and exercises along the way. If you get them wrong, you go back to the lessons and try again till you get it right. It's simple. I don't see how I can help you out here."
"I've tried," she grunts. "Believe me, I've tried that. I've tried reviewing on my own time. I really do my best to study and make stuff work, but it never pans out. I'm just not good at it. Please. I'm begging you."
"I don't tutor people. It gets in the way."
"You really can't help me...?" she asks. There's a desperation in her eyes now, something that I feel pained to see, but I press on.
"People can help themselves."
"I've tried to help myself, and it doesn't work," she says.
"Try harder," I say as I close the door, right in her face.
And then she walks away. Turning her back to me, to the car. The red scarf flutters in the wind as she walks down the street, and she disappears as she turns around the corner of the school and as Kurogawa drives the car in the opposite direction.
.
.
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11 / 8 / 2014
I am thinking about quizzes. I am thinking about homework. I am thinking about a great many things, all of which involve school. I am walking the thirty-minute long walk to Kishibaru and the sky is still grey and the air is still cold. My hands are gloved and I am wearing a scarf with a red- and-black flannel pattern. Despite this, I can still see my breath turn to clouds every time I open my mouth.
Every now and again my thoughts drift to a girl with a red scarf and I turn annoyed.
The first person to talk to me in years, talks to me as though we've known each other for such a long time. Perhaps she just acts how normal girls this day and age act, and I'm just some socially awkward fool that knows no better.
Time passes, however, and I am getting closer to the school. The familiar feeling of just another ordinary day is coming upon me again, and so for a moment I feel almost relaxed with myself. But then I hear her call out my name, "Hikawa!"
I'm walking at a faster rate now because I don't want to speak to her and I don't want to be pestered about requests to tutor her on plants, but before I can walk any further she manages to rush forward and cut me off.
Hoped not to see her again. Hoped not to speak to her again. She doesn't need me to tutor her and I don't need someone like her butting into my life.
"Dude, I called out your name," she says, more than a little agitated at my refusal to even acknowledge her presence.
"You don't need me to help you study," I say to her, hoping getting straight to the point will drive her away faster.
"I can barely afford tuition," she replies quickly, her brows furrowing and her breaths hitched. "Hiring an actual tutor will suck out what little cash I've got left for savings. I'm begging you."
"I don't want to help you," I say to her.
"I know you said that! But you also said that it gets in the way of your schedule! I've done my research; you don't have any clubs, you don't hang out with anybody at lunch—even during class, you don't say a thing unless the teacher makes you recite something. And you always get the questions right, you always get a hundred or higher because of bonuses—"
"I'm not the only one in the class with good grades."
"But you're the only one who gets everything right in every exam."
Ambitious girl. That, I can admire. But ambition only goes so far.
"The only reason I do any good in my exams is because my father taught me how to properly study from a very young age. I'm not so sure, even with my help, if you'll be able to reach that level by next week."
"Well, there's no harm in trying," she insists. "Besides, I helped you out with your books yesterday—"
"—after kicking them out of my hands."
"—oh come on, I legitimately helped you get them to your Dad in the end!"
"You chose to help me out. I never asked for your help, and even insisted you leave me alone."
But at my cruelty and unkindness, she does not scold me. All that happens is her shoulders lower and she looks utterly deflated.
"Is there nothing I can say to get you to help me?"
Expected her to be angry with me, expected her to lash out and call me the names I know and have heard people call me behind my back.
But she is just demoralized. Anger, I'm used to. Despondence, not exactly. Probably will have to get used to that, if I'm ever gonna help with the family business. But at the moment I just don't...feel right.
I just have to ask, "Why do you want to get a perfect score, even? Most people are pleased with a passing grade. If you want to get a scholarship, then...," she gives an uncomfortable expression as she averts her gaze, pursing her lips and scrunching up her nose. "Unless...you want something more than a scholarship?"
She looks at me.
Her hair is still messy, but I can see her face and her eyes clearly. Her mouth is still. Her eyes are wide, and she is frowning not as a show of anger, but as a plea. Her green eyes almost seem to burn with something I can't quite describe and for just a second she looks colorful and bright and alive.
Her black hair is drifting over her eyes and her nose and her freckles and it's all messy, like she didn't bother to comb it before leaving for school. I see the white clouds come from her mouth as she struggles to come up with words to say as her hands drift over her head, fixing her hair.
She is still wearing that blood-red scarf she wore the day before.
She's not saying anything, but she is straightening her back and she is looking at me the way no girl has ever looked at me before, looking at me the way old-fashioned types would deem unbecoming of a woman. I, on the other hand, can't help but find myself enraptured by the green of her eyes— and all at once I can't help but give in.
"I want more than a scholarship. I want more than a happy life," she responds, the conviction in her voice enough to make me step back. Her eyes drift downward as she sinks her head lower into her scarf. "I want a lot of things."
She doesn't say that in a proud way. She doesn't say that in a happy way. She's just being witheringly honest.
"Let's talk at lunch," is all I say to her. "Where would you like to meet up?"
She blinks, stunned for a second. Her shoulders jolt as she stammers out some noises before coming out with, "—i-is the rooftop okay?"
Not the cafeteria or even the bleachers? Never really gone up there myself, but it can't hurt. "Sure."
That is the last thing I say to her before I head into the school grounds. I don't notice her keeping her eyes on the back of my head as I make my way inside.
Kana Kohaku. Transferred to Kishibaru last year, having come all the way from Nagoya. Not terribly social. Not terribly popular. Heard a thing or two about her, some unpleasant things; rumors that will be brought up later in conversation. Heard stuff about how she works at a burger joint as a part-time job and have even heard reports of her reportedly being rather...promiscuous when it comes to older men.
Word about her had spread 'round my class so quickly upon her arrival that it's almost worthless to even bring her up anymore, but people still do because she's always been the enigma nobody really cares much to really solve.
People say she does stuff like sleep around, go to parties, but I doubt anybody's seen her actually do it. People say she lives in luxury with her parents in some rich condo, but I doubt anyone's made an effort to go visit her.
She was not the first person to have ever come to me and ask for help regarding grades. There have been others, even from other classes. I've shot them all down and I've told them the same thing I told her. They can do it themselves. They hardly need someone like me. All they need is the will to power on. To actually sit down and study like they should.
She'll only ask for my help again when she'll need me. She'll only prove detrimental to my own efforts to study. I'll surely be awkward. Probably going to be of no use to her at all.
But I can't really ignore the look she gave me just hours before.
So when the morning classes end and lunchtime hits and everybody except me and her leaves the classroom, she and I both get up off our seats. I nod at her and she nods at me, and we both make our way up the long steps up — all the way to the rooftop of Kishibaru.
The walk is silent and I have my hands in my pockets while she is keeping hers behind her back. She isn't looking at me and her face is buried deep within her scarf. I briefly wonder why of all times now she's acting so nervous, when yesterday she seemed all-too keen to kick my books out of my hands for fun.
When we get to the roof, the air feels so much colder than it has any right to be, but she and I couldn't care less at this point. She makes her way to the railings, curling her hand upon the steel and keeping her back to me. The silence grows and grows to the point where it's palpable and then she suddenly turns to me after taking in an unnecessarily big breath.
"You...don't pay attention to rumors, right?" she asks.
I blink at her, "I don't try to concern myself with them."
She looks at me for a few seconds before turning her head away. She is now looking at the cityscape, looking at the different buildings and how they cloister together, stretching to the grey horizon as snow falls all over the world. She then says, "So you haven't heard of what people say about me. About how easy I am, with the guys."
I blink at her once again, scratching the back of my head. "I may have heard a thing or two about that, actually."
She looks at me again and her eyes are like blunt daggers.
I've heard things about a girl with green eyes and a red scarf. Nasty things that would be whispered by both boys and girls, things that shouldn't ever be said about anyone. Questions about panty colors, about how many STDs she must have, about how many must have shared her bed, about black lace and so on and so forth.
Only thing I never really got was a name. "Should that matter?"
She lowers her daggers and goes back to averting her gaze, heaving out a quick breath and saying, "It could. They rumors are...not entirely inaccurate..."
"I see," I say.
Truthfully, I don't care much if she is as easy as the rumors say she is. People do as people please and none of their business should be mine. But for the briefest moment I wonder what this has to do with studying to the point of perfection until my brain cells kick in.
"What did you mean when you said you wanted more than a scholarship?"
"I've tried to turn myself around, really I have," she says. "But my reputation's already preceded me, it seems. Even you caught wind of the rumors...," she laughs joylessly, each ha sounding like she's dying more inside. But she manages to come outright with, "I wanna get a good letter of recommendation, so I can get a scholarship to Tokyo U."
My ears twitch, "Lofty goal. But...specifically, Tokyo U?"
"I'm willing to take on any college, if they'll have me. But for now, Tokyo U is the best option. It's closest to home; plus it has a real good medical division."
My eyes widen at her, "You want to become a doctor."
She nods, knowing how little I can believe it. She then stays silent for a time and lets the question hang in the air until she comes out with, "Can't be one with grades as bad as mine. If they keep on being as bad as they are, I won't make it past entrance exams, let alone get a scholarship grant. A letter of recommendation'll be hard to come by with my reputation...so I've no choice but to try and get one on my own merits. And by my own merits, I mean..."
She turns to me.
My shoulders deflate.
"Since when did you really start trying to study?" I ask her.
She hangs her head low. "Since the beginning of the year."
"And nobody's been able to help you at all?"
She laughs that half-laugh of hers before saying, "The only people who talk to me nicely are guys. Though they don't always say nice things, either...girls like to gossip a lot until the person they're gossiping about actually walks over to them. Then they try making a fool out of her, or they make a fool out of themselves."
"And that brings you to me."
"Yes." She removes her hands from the railing and she looks at me intently with that look she had on earlier this morning, that look I will never be able to forget. But instead of maintaining this look, she suddenly gets on her knees and plants herself on all fours. She arranges herself in a bowing position that most men would abhor due to how much it looks like grovelling, but she doesn't care because at this point she is grovelling and is desperate enough and lacks that much pride.
"I'm sorry for causing you trouble, Kazuya Hikawa. But please. Can you help me study for all my exams and quizzes until college entrance exams?"
She's not telling me everything. I know she isn't. No one would lower themselves to this degree out of just any regular kind of desperation. What could she be hiding? Why would she be hiding it? All signs pointed to something to do with her reputation. Been here for a year or so. Tendency to be rather liberal with her endeavors has been affirmed. Nobody talks about her, but her lifestyle is apparent enough to lend itself to some unsavory rumors. Her desperation is palpable and her will is all shrivelled up and the idea that there has to be something else at play here is too big to ignore, so I ask:
"Do you have a child?"
She tears herself up from the ground and looks at me as though I am her worst fears come to life. She does not say anything, grasping at syllables and stammering out things and noises and the noises she makes are all the answers I need.
But still, she manages to come out with a whimpering, "Nobody can know."
That's a matter of course.
In the past fifty years, the rate of children born out of wedlock has hardly changed. Single mothers in this country often face tremendous amounts of stigmatization for having kids. Family image holds a lot of prestige; having or being a bastard child is more often than not considered a flaw in and of itself.
Hell, under the koseki family registration system, discrimination against illegitimate children in family law situations was completely legal until just a few years back.
I soften my voice as I ask her, "How old?"
"Turned two last February," is all she says after a period of silence.
I turn back to her in shock, "You had him when you were fourteen?"
"Fifteen," she corrects. "Was held back for a year when I got her...," she gets up from off the ground. "My mother, thank God, was willing to take care of her with me after her dad jumped ship. But she can't do all the work forever. I need to pick up the pace."
"And...nobody in the school knows this?"
She crosses her arms as she states, "Principal knows. Mom told him. He's sympathetic, not that his sympathy matters much. Everyone else doesn't know, and you'd better not say a thing—"
"I won't. Where'd they get the idea that you're...easy with the guys?"
She sighs, "Girls here? Not too different from the girls back in Nagoya. You get on their nerves once and they decide to hound you whenever they don't have anything better to do. I'm pretty much a prostitute now, according to what they say. "
"How'd they not tell anyone here about your kid?"
"They didn't know, either; dropped out before anybody caught wind."
"I see. So this guy..."
I see her face twist for a moment. Eyes blacker than they've any right to be. "Moment I had our kid, I never heard or saw him again. Not that I'd want to."
"The Principal had to have given you benefits of some kind."
"He did. That's how bad my finances are, too. And no, I won't ask you to give me money, if that's what you're thinking."
"Wouldn't even do it if you asked," I lean against the rails of the roof. "Funny. If you started with the kid, I'd have accepted sooner."
She blinks. "You don't think I'm lying."
"No. I really don't."
"I could be lying. For all you know, my kid doesn't even exist. Thought you'd think I was lying, that's why I didn't say anything about it —"
"I don't think you are."
"Why?"
I tilt my head and shrug. "Gotta feeling."
She looks at me, momentarily stunned, before chuckling out in a small fit of laughter. And when she laughs this time, it's not a half-laugh.
She is not lying when she says she has a child. And she is not lying when she says she needs help. So I will help her. At the very least, for now. I will help her till she will be able to stand on her feet and carry herself and her family all the way to whatever paradise she longs for in Tokyo U.
So I ask her, "What's her name?"
And as the chuckling dies down, she wipes her eye; then she smiles again, a beautiful smile that's as big as the whole wide world, and she says, "Masako."
.
.
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11 / 9 / 2014
It is Saturday and I have entered a girl's room for the very first time.
Kana's room is small. We've come here on a Saturday, and it's been thirty minutes since we've left Kishibaru. We've agreed to spend the evening and tomorrow afternoon studying for what is to come. But we haven't started yet because Kana's making tea and even though I told her not to, she insisted.
So I am waiting alone in her room and I am sitting on the ground with my legs crossed. My bag is to my left and there is a kotatsu in front of me; Kana's bag and books having been arranged across from me, on the other side of the small table. The room is a thick color of white and there's another table against the wall adjacent to the shoji screen, and on the other table there is a small TV and a cable box at the foot of said TV.
There is a crib, and it is next to me.
There are no sounds coming from inside the crib. The crib itself creaks and it groans as wood does, but whatever is inside the crib doesn't make a sound, and is obscured by padding on all sides.
I don't know why I'm standing up. I don't know why I'm peering over the crib. But as I see Masako...for a very brief moment, I feel the desperation Kana must have felt in begging me to help her study. For a very brief moment, I regret not accepting her request sooner.
Then I hear someone enter the room, and I turn to see Kana setting down a tray with two small cups of tea on the kotatsu. She then slowly walks over to me and, with me, looks over the sleeping Masako in her crib. Both of us are quiet, both of us are still, and both of us nearly begin to forget why we came here in the first place. It is Kana who perks up, however, and taps me on the shoulder. I nod at her, and then we both set ourselves down at the table.
"She gets her looks from her mom," Kana then says with a smirk, her voice marginally louder than a whisper.
I get my books from my bag and ask, "Her dad leave for any particular reason, or...?"
It takes her a suspicious amount of time to respond.
"Didn't wanna shoulder the responsibility, is all. He wanted an abortion, I didn't," she shrugs. "Arguments happened, then he left the picture. Dunno what's become of him since then."
"You have any part-time jobs?" I ask, setting the books on the table.
"Been working as a cashier at Big Bang Burger for the past three months. The pay is good, plus I'm on the cusp of getting a promotion because I work long hours," she says with more than a little pride.
I raise my brow, "So who takes care of Masako while you're out?"
"Mom's usually out working. But she's been job hunting recently, so she has more time than before. We'd hire babysitters. They tend to do a way better job at it than I ever could. But they come and go."
"'Bout your father?"
She turns, smirking, "Like mother like daughter."
Damn. "He...?"
"Jumped ship from my mom. She raised me basically by her lonesome." She doesn't even look at me as she says that. So I move on.
"So where is your mother? She doesn't seem to be around at the moment..."
Kana just casually says, "She's buying medicine."
I blink at her, "Medicine?"
"Masako's not the strongest girl in the world," she says, somewhat numbly.
After a bit of a silence, I ask, "Gets sick often?"
She nods, "She was born a few weeks before she should've been. We're lucky she's developed as much as she has now, but still...her immune system's got a ways to go." But then she shakes her head and assures me, "Never mind, that shouldn't matter right now. What're we doing? We should be studying," and then she breaks out some small half-chuckles.
"Okay. So. Quiz about botany. Now. What do you call what happens when green plants use sunlight to create food from from carbon dioxide and water?"
"Photosynthesis," she says almost immediately, her eyes having become dead serious.
"Good. What's the etymology of the term photosynthesis?"
"No clue," she says, her mouth curling into another smirk.
I blink at her and ask, "How many times were you absent from the class?"
"...a lot," she says meekly. "Weeks at a time..."
"You wondered why I didn't recognize you as one of our classmates," I say to her, arms crossing.
"Do you know anybody in our class, even?" she says, palms facing the ceiling. "You don't even talk to anyone, from what I know of you. I have a kid, at least I have an excuse."
"I don't talk to people because talking to people stops me from doing other things," I say defensively.
"Like what? Studying?" she scoffs.
"Pretty much, yeah," I smirk at her, knowing how disappointing an answer that must be. "I study every day. If I don't keep my mind sharp, then it'll all turn to mush."
She props her chin on her hand and says, "Can't hurt to take a break every once in a while."
I raise my head at her and say in defiance, "I take breaks."
"What do you do then? Read?"
I don't say anything. I am unable to. For a brief moment, I feel embarrassment.
"You must be joking," she laughs, but her tone turns genuinely inquisitive. "What do you read, though?"
"Mostly old books. Lord of the Rings, Watchmen, some manga here and there," I tell her, enthused by the idea that someone is interested in what I read in my spare time.
"You have any favorites, though?" she asks, not knowing the significance of such a question.
I remember yellow scarves, asteroids with coded names, different planets full of different people, all reflections of the mundanity of adulthood. I think of pilots and deserts and snakes, and roses kept in glass cases. Foxes roaming across fields and speaking of essential things. It gets to the point where I tell her almost immediately, "The Little Prince."
She blinks, somewhat stunned by how quickly I was able to say that, and she says, "Heard it's a good book. Never got to reading it, myself."
"If you want a bedtime story for Masako that'll last, you read her that book," I urge her. "I assure you, she'll remember it for the rest of her life."
"That good, huh...?" she asks. "Perhaps you could lend me a copy, then. Might actually get to reading it when I've got some time on my hands."
"Perhaps when the next quiz hits," I say to her. But she appears to have had something else in mind.
She blinks, her hand still propping up her chin, "We could just...hang out around lunchtime, you know. You could lend me the book and we could just talk and stuff."
"I head to the library around lunchtime. I read. I study. The works."
"That's the reason you just didn't wanna help me at first? Do you really even want to study? What about it makes you enjoy it so much? It all just seems so routine."
"I'm good at it, so I might as well take my time with it. Ever since I was a kid. Dad's been prepping me since elementary. Don't really have a reason to refuse."
"Maybe you could give breaking pattern a try every now and again?" she asks, looking genuinely frustrated.
"If I'm fine where I am, why should I try doing something more?"
So she blinks and she asks the most obvious question: "So you're just helping me 'cause of Masako?"
I just turn to the crib, and then turn back to her. I needn't say anything. And both she and I stay silent for the longest time. But then we hear some noises coming from beyond the room, like thumping. We hear the sound grow louder and faster the closer it comes to the room. Kana seems used to this noise and all she does is peer over the crib, checking on Masako as the door opens.
There is an older woman with black eyes and hair coming into the room. She is wearing a black overcoat that stretches down to her shins and she is wearing black heels and stockings. She lets out a tired breath and a smile, lifting up a plastic bag as Kana turns to her. But then the woman takes notice of me and asks, "Friend of yours?"
She just blinks, "Sort of."
The older woman eyes me before lowering the plastic bag to the floor. She goes to me and stares, sizing me up like she's wondering if I'm worthy of something. "So you're Kazuya Hikawa?"
Kana sharply turns as I manage, "Yes...Kana has spoken of me?"
"Already on a first-name basis," the woman says, before turning to Kana. "Aren't you going to introduce me to him?"
Kana blushes a little, stepping forward and rubbing the back of her head. "She's my mom," she tells me, more than a little shyly.
"And we have a lot of things to discuss," she says, turning again to Kana. "I've bought some groceries. We can talk in Kana's room. I'll prepare the food," she then turns to me, "there's just so much I have to know about you."
Kana's stammering now, "M-Mom, seriously, it's okay—"
"He's a guest here. I'd feel guilty if I didn't spend some time getting to know him," Kana's mother says, already heading down the steps.
"Mom, wait!" Kana pleads, rushing out to the door and trying out one last ditch effort to get her mother to stop.
But of course, she doesn't listen, and she's already in the living room by the time she says, "I think there's some tea in the cupboard..."
Kana looks at me like she's wondering what I'm about to say to that, as though asking what she herself should do as well. But all I do is shrug and move back to my seat, crossing my legs and sitting down.
I've already come this far, anyway. Why not?
Kana's mother talks and asks and wonders aloud, wonders about me.
"So, how did you and my daughter meet? She's told me things about 'getting the smartest guy in class' to help her..."
"She asked me to help her study for our next quiz. It's on botany," I respond, trying to not feel too flattered.
"It must have been puzzling for you, having someone approach you out of nowhere and request you help them with their studies."
I turn to Kana, smirking a bit, "It wasn't as straightforward as you think..."
She blushes deeply and sinks her face into her scarf.
Kana's mother doesn't move. She doesn't say anything, just looking at me intently, like something about me has rung alarms in her head.
"Kana, when did you tell him about Masako?" she suddenly asks her daughter, who begins stammering and stuttering and trying to regain herself in time to say something.
"I-I tried to keep it secret till I couldn't afford it, but he figured it out...," she manages.
"What, did you guess?" Kana's mother asks me.
"She asked me to help her study, even bowed," I say, heedless of Kana's embarrassment. "Wondered why she would go that far, and I began to ask questions. One thing led to another."
She pauses for a moment. Then says, "Kana, please make some cup noodles for yourself and him."
Kana stutters, "Wh-what—Mom, I just—"
"I would like to speak to him privately," Kana's mother says. "He's a very interesting boy. I know I've been keeping you from your studies, but there's something very important I'd like to tell him. I'll be gone by the time you get back."
"Mom, I just—"
"Kana," her mother says sternly, still somehow managing to pull off an austere tone with an earnest smile. "Please."
Kana shirks back and nods timidly, getting up from the kotatsu and heading on downstairs. And I am stuck in the room with Kana's mother, who is standing up and moving over to the crib.
"Look at her," she says, peering in. I follow her gaze and I look.
I see a little creature with a round head, wearing a pink onesie. She is sleeping and she is curled up into herself, she doesn't notice me and it's good. It's good she doesn't notice me, she'd cry for her mother because there's a stranger looking at her. As she sleeps, she makes her mewling noises and my ears begin to hear them. They are soft and they are harmless and innocent and all those things people can't afford to be for very long in life.
When I see her...as though I am her father, I feel something instinctive, protective. Like who is in the crib is too innocent and pure to be destroyed by the horrors of the world and I need to defend her from it at all costs. It is strange and it is unsettling and I am afraid for both her and myself.
"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Kana's mother continues. I turn to her, and she keeps talking all the while. "What did you hear about my daughter?"
I turn back to the crib and I mutter, "Rumors."
She eyes me and I dare not look back at her, the faint blurs of her in my peripheral vision chilling me all on their own. "What kind of rumors?"
I decide to be honest. "The bad kind."
Kana's mother gives me the side-eye. Lets the back of her fingers trail across the baby's cheek; so light that Masako hardly stirs. "Do you understand what you're getting yourself into?"
"I'm not intending to date her," I tell her, finding it in myself to finally face her again. "I'm studying with her, so that she'd be able to better help her child."
"You'd better keep your word on that," she says sadly, her fingers stroking the pink fabric of Masako's onesie. "The rumors started because... someone who shouldn't have been anywhere near her got to her before I even knew what was wrong. The rumors got worse when he left her behind. For a few days, she'd just scream in the night. Partly out of anger, mostly because she hated herself that much. Then after those few days, she stopped. Since then, she hasn't cried once. The way she asked me for help...I couldn't say no."
So I continue to look at Masako's sleeping face. I continue to hear her mewl and murmur to herself, shuffling in her bed. I begin to think about if she needs a blanket, a bottle of milk, maybe even a rattle. I think of books I could read to her before bedtime and I wonder how she'll think of snakes eating elephants and perhaps she'll become an artist or a pilot—
—and at this point I wonder why I'm thinking like it's suddenly my job to keep her safe no matter the cost.
I decide to tell Kana's mother the whole truth when she gives me a very strong look.
"I recalled hearing about her in passing mention from my classmates. Things that sounded pretty...skeevy. So when she bowed to me, I had to know just what had been driving her to do such a thing. First thing that came off the top of my head was...," then I gesture to the little girl in the crib.
"When she told me she wanted to become a doctor," Kana's mother says. There is something painful, and haunted in her eyes. "I couldn't help but not want to support her every step of the way. I could not abandon her... not again. As her mother and Masako's grandmother, I decided to dedicate what's left of my life to helping her achieve her dream. So I want to make this very clear."
I could not abandon her again, she said. Again?
Before I can ask what she meant, she turns to me. Our expressions are passive, but we can feel how heavy the air between us is, and the sensation of my eyes locking with hers sent a thousand weights down my spine.
Kana's mother says, "She has little to no friends. Little to no time to enjoy herself. You can be her friend, or you can be her boyfriend. Whatever you wish. But if you do anything to harm her or my granddaughter, I'll hound you till you die."
I nod.
But as I turn back to the crib, as I see how fragile Masako is and I begin to fully understand the weight of my decisions, Kana enters the room. Carrying a tray, on it three cup noodles.
"I told you to make one for yourself and for him," Kana's mother says, somewhat amused.
Kana says, "Thought you'd like one...," breathing resignedly.
"Alright. Waste not, want not."
Kana's mother takes the middle cup of noodles before exiting the room, eyeing both of us before whispering something into Kana's ear. Kana nearly drops the tray as her face reddens like a tomato and she stares at her mother like the woman's transformed into a demon right before her eyes.
"Good luck with your studies," Kana's mother says, smiling lightly -- there's something so sad in the way her lips rise.
.
.
.
Kana and I just slurp away at our cup noodles, waiting for the other person to say something about what just happened and I'm too shy and she's too embarrassed and Masako is still asleep and we don't have much time left before evening hits and I have to head home because of my curfew.
So I start the conversation. "Your mother's a nice lady."
"I'm sorry," Kana says, refusing to look at me. "I didn't think she'd be back so soon..."
"It's fine," I tell her, but like her mother, she doesn't seem to want to listen.
"I-I know, you don't like people, I'm sorry for the interruptions, I'm sorry for all these delays, I'm just—"
"It's okay, really, I—"
"—a-and I'm sorry that the conversation got to your dad and—"
And we just catch each other's statements and we are both caught on another deadlock. But I only allow this new silence to last a mere few seconds. "Your mother's a nice lady. We spoke for a bit while you were gone."
She winces, "What'd she say...?"
I rub the back of my head. "I'd say we've come to an understanding of sorts."
She purses her lips.
"...sorry if we got into some uncomfortable areas...we should've been studying," she says dejectedly, glaring passive-aggressively into her plastic bowl.
"We haven't even gotten into biology much," I chuckle, actually amused at how much time's been half-wasted. "Wonder how math and history are gonna go..."
"Wait, what?"
"Next next week, we've got a long exam on math and a thirty-item quiz on history, taking place on Monday and Wednesday respectively."
Kana keels over and plants her head on the desk, groaning out a noise that can only be replicated by the most anguished and bereaved of lost souls.
"Meaning I'll have to come again tomorrow," I say.
Kana pauses. Shuffling her head up, she stares at me. "You're still willing to help me."
"Yes."
She blinks. "Why?"
I shrug. "I like your place. It's very...comfortable."
Kana's eyes are stern. She frowns. "Why do you want to help me? Really?"
"What do you mean?"
She just shakes her head. "Is it because of Masako, or you just genuinely want to help?"
"I explain plainly, "My mother died a few years ago."
Kana's eyes widen.
"Oh," is all she can say.
"She was...frail, when she was younger. Would get sick a lot, had to take a lot of visits to the hospital. For a long time it seemed she wouldn't get sick anymore at all. But cancer doesn't discriminate. Mom raised me while Dad was out. Had to deal with me as a toddler. If you think I'm insufferable now, think about how it was then."
"I'm…sorry to hear that."
"A few days before she died, she told me something very strange."
Kana narrows her eyes, "What'd she say...?"
"I'll never forget it...," I chuckle a little, slurping down a few more noodles, "Your father and I had you months before we were married."
Kana can't say a word.
"I sat by her side, holding her hand as she laid in that hospital bed. I asked her why her parents weren't showing up with me, why it was only ever I or Dad who'd care enough to check up on her. And she looked like she couldn't bear to give me an answer, but eventually she did. I'm a bastard. And when she told me that, I hated myself, more than I hated my relatives, more than I hated anyone or anything else in the world. But she also said, You are everything I could have ever wanted my son to be. And after that...I loved her more than I hated myself."
Kana is silent for a long time.
She keeps her eyes to the ground. Ashamed.
I tell her warmly, "Let's just say I have a soft spot for people in her situation. I'll come back here tomorrow. I'll help you study."
She blinks again, lifts her head up to face me. "I...thought you'd have just decided to leave..."
"I'm asocial, not anti-social."
She blinks a third time. Her shoulders deflate and she keels over once more, planting her head back down on the table. She then rises up and smiles, eyes a little teary, "Thank you."
I tell her "You're welcome," before resuming with my cup.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize."
.
.
.
11 / 18 / 2014
I am waiting for her outside of the school gates and I wonder if she'll still wear that red scarf of hers even as the season shifts. I am waiting for her because we've got another study session ahead of us. History class. Long exam. Coverage is from Japan's early years to World War II.
Reviewing silently while standing alone in the melting snow is getting boring, because there are just so many times I can repeat scrolls of information about Fat Men, Little Boys, Hiroshimas and Nagasakis, and old anime based on the subject.
When she comes finally, she is out of breath and she is bent over. She is still wearing her red scarf even though it's not nearly as cold anymore. She wipes strands of hair from her face as she exhales one last time and declares, "S-sorry...if I...kept you...waiting..."
"Where were you? Didn't see you in class at all."
"Was...working...at...Big Bang...almost forgot we...had...to study...," she says as she struggles to form words.
I blink at her. Finding it strange how unseasonably warm I become upon seeing the black strands flowing over her freckles."Let's go. We've got history to deal with."
"Good," she breathes. "My best subject."
"You just barely passed the last quiz."
"That was because you didn't tell me about it," she grunts, grinning.
"You were in class once Yamaguchi-sensei gave the quiz date."
She gesticulates kind of wildly as she bites back, "I was sleeping! Why'd you not wake me up, anyway?"
"Would it really matter if I did?"
"...gotta point there."
I then nod and make a welcoming gesture, allowing her to come to my side. She is still glaring at me, though she doesn't mean it, and we both take the long walk all the way to her place.
Very few times would we ever meet up in any fashion during school hours, and whenever we would we would talk about nothing at all. Just small talk that we'd both forget about immediately as the conversation would end. But when we would walk to her place, we'd always talk for hours before finding ourselves surprised at how quickly we seem to arrive at her place.
When we arrive this time, however, we continue our conversation even as we make strides to her room, where we spot Masako being tended to by her grandmother. Kana's mom nods at us and smiles as she bows and leaves the room, Kana and I taking our seats soon after. We continue talking as we unload our bags and get our books out along with stuff like pencils, erasers, pens, and correction tape and I grow mildly afraid that we won't be able to study at the rate our conversation is going.
Then we hear a shuffling noise. We turn our heads to the crib, where a black shape quickly pulls itself down. Kana and I blink before turning back to each other. Just as Kana faces me, the black shape rises again and I see it in my peripherals. Turn again. Shape bunkers down.
Kana chuckles as I raise my brow.
She holds her finger to her mouth as she smiles and I breathe in response. We both turn to the crib and keep our eyes on it for as long as we can. Soon enough, we see the head of a little girl pop up from inside the crib. Her small fingers are grasping the wooden frame and she is staring at us with large brown eyes. She blinks at us, and we blink back at her. She makes a little Mmnnn sound before retreating back into the crib.
Kana smiles at me, getting up from the kotatsu and walking over to her daughter.
She says a few things to the innocent soul in the crib and after a few seconds, she returns to the kotatsu with a little girl in a onesie in her arms. She lowers Masako, having her sit in her lap as she asks me, "Is it okay with you if Masako stays here? She's quiet and not very active, so she won't do much."
I nodded simply, "If her presence helps you study harder, then by all means."
She smiles again, "Thank you."
"Now then...," I say, bringing out an exorbitantly large history book thrice the size of the ones assigned to us at school, slamming it onto the kotatsu. "Let us begin."
Masako just tilts her head as Kana asks, "This isn't the book Yamaguchi-sensei assigned...
"This is the book I've used to get hundreds in every history exam I've had thus far. Because Yamaguchi likes to make us write essays, it's only logical we take cues from an essay-laden book. I only pull this one out in extreme measures, though."
She scoffs, "Well. I guess I am an extreme measure...you sure this'll help us out better than just reading the normal book?"
"Why did the blitzkrieg tactic fail?" I ask her.
"What?"
"Why'd blitzkrieg fail for the Germans, after it was done successfully in the early stages of Wehrmacht's invasion upon the Soviet Union?"
She smirks as she says, "Because in the end, the Russians adapted while the Germans did not. Hitler was so accustomed to the blitzkrieg that when it was used in Stalingrad and at Kursk against the Russians, it largely caught the army off-guard because there were circumstances that the Germans weren't able to overcome, primarily because a blitz wasn't designed for the urban warfare at Stalingrad and at Kursk the Russians had already made a prepared defense against them." She then nods, half to herself as Masako opens her mouth. "See? I can be smart, too."
"The blitzkrieg did work at first, largely due to multiple advantages the Germans had over the Russians. Stalin had eliminated many capable generals during his Great Purge, leaving Russia's Red Army without a leader against Hitler's troops. Stalin himself was so convinced Hitler would not rebel against him that even though it was plain as day that the Nazis were advancing their efforts, he rejected the notion that Hitler's ambition would be so great. Plus, environmentally speaking, Byelorussia and Ukraine were perfect locations for Germanic war vehicles to traverse across because they largely held flat plains. And we're not even getting into the actual planes of the Germans, which utterly slaughtered Soviet air forces and ground forces."
At that, Kana grabs her own history book and flits the pages over and over again as Masako eyes the sheets of paper passing by right before her large round eyes.
"But Russia eventually struck back. Harsh weather conditions and other factors like a Resistance caused the Russians' forces to decay gradually, the Germans having not planned for an extended campaign. Eventually Russians even adopted the doctrines of the Germans to the point where the former surpassed the latter in terms of resiliency, weaponry, and intel gathering. Stalin also relegated his command to his generals while Hitler decided to be stupid and man his troops' movements himself. In the end, Russia also just had a lot more reserves, so they could withstand a lot of what the Germans had to throw at them."
Kana was just looking at me intently, not even taking a peek at her book anymore. Masako looked up at her from her lap.
"In the end though, you were correct. The Russians adapted. The Germans did not."
Kana stared at the thick history book I'd placed on the table, then back to me. Then back to the book, back to me. Book, me. Her shoulders deflate as she pulls herself backwards and slams her upper body to the floor, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. "Okay. Let's read the book."
"One of the best things about this book," I tell her, "is that there're pictures and sketch renderings of many events listed. So it helps you remember stuff a little better if you take the time to associate a word or a phrase or an entire name with an image or a part of an image that strikes you."
Kana doesn't budge from her spot as she lies helplessly with her back on the floor and her eyes on the ceiling. Masako stares at her, still sitting on her waist. Kana's daughter then turns, shifting her position to face her mother, crawling over up till she's sitting down Kana's stomach. Kana looks at Masako as Masako looms over her. Kana blinks, smiling again, "What...?"
Masako's hand lands hard on Kana's cheek. Though Kana is more amused than anything else. She lifts Masako up as she herself rises from the floor, sitting herself back upright, "Okay, I get the point." Masako sits back in her mother's lap, staring at the both of us curiously as Kana says, "So...you ready to make me feel like an idiot again?"
I smirk, "Always."
"To think you did this sort of thing all alone, back then…"
"What, reading?"
"No. Studying. It's boring as hell, even with people helping you. Didn't you ever get tired of it?"
"Every now and again. Over time, I…guess I got used to it."
"Wasn't there anything you wanted to be when you grew older?"
"Of course I had ideas. Dad tended to kill them before they could take root."
She frowns. "Y'know, considering everything you told me about your Dad, he sounds like a real swell guy…"
"For what it's worth, he doesn't hate me."
"What?"
"For the longest time I thought it was because he hated me and Mom. 'Cause he never seemed happy to be with us. Never brought me in for a hug or anything. Would always speak with Mom like she was his business partner, not his wife. Even all the way until the end. But honestly, I don't think he really hates or loves anyone."
"That should make you more angry than you sound."
"Wasn't happy with that knowledge. But you gotta live with it somehow. Not like there's much I can do 'bout it. He's practically got my whole future lined up."
She narrows her eyes. "Does he…y'know…?"
"No. I don't," I smirk at her.
"It'd just be terrible if he…"
"He's neglectful at best. Never raised a hand against me, and any scoldings I get are at worst a harsh rebuke. Wouldn't say he's abusive, though."
"How would he react if you told him you were helping me, though…?"
"Probably not well," I shrug. "But hey. He thinks I'm off in some public library somewhere. And he doesn't come home often anyway. Won't be a problem."
She still looks supremely uncomfortable.
She should know something stupid to take her mind off this. "I wanted to be a Featherman."
She suddenly perks up and raises her voice, "What?"
"When I was a kid," I chuckled. "Like 8, 9 years old. I immediately thought, Phoenix Red."
She's laughing a little now, "You, watching Neo Featherman?"
"Long time ago. Memorized the theme song and sang it to myself whenever I'd to study for elementary quizzes. Used the thirty minutes of free time Dad gave me to always watch that show. Hell. I don't even remember the characters' names or whatever kinda story arcs they were trynna go for."
There's something weird in her eyes, in the way she smiles. "Sing me the theme song."
"What?"
"C'mon! Sing us the theme song! Me n' Masako!"
"I can't. Not happening. I don't even remember it anymore."
"You're lying."
"Am not."
"You so definitely are!"
Masako's laughing now, 'cause her mom's laughing and I'm letting myself smile.
"I can't. I don't even know what the franchise is up to these days…show's on its like, fifteenth season or something."
"Anything else you wanted to be?" she smiles.
I shake my head, "'Bout you? Any lofty dreams as a kid?"
"Y'know, I…," she blushes and rubs the back of her head, "I thought I could become a dancer."
"Really? What kind?"
"That's the thing. When I was a kid I really didn't have any clue what kinda dances were there—I'd just see singers on TV dancing in music videos and thought they were pretty cool. Y'know. There's something freeing in it, I dunno."
"I think you'd make a great dancer."
"And where's that comin' from? You haven't even seen me bust a move."
"No. But you put your everything into what you wanna accomplish. I can see you being a good dancer."
She pauses for a sec, then chuckles, "You'd make a good Phoenix Red. Shame you're gonna be stuck in some musty cubicle, filling out tax returns all day."
I smirk at her a little. "I also wanted to be a detective."
"A detective?"
"Some point I really, really got into the idea," I shook my head. "Dad put a stop to that. My passions didn't reach him, so I let that thought die like everything else."
"I'd say you're smart enough to be one."
"I'm not that smart," I shake my head. "'Sides, it'd be too stressful."
Her expression is curious. Looks good on her, like always. But curious. "It's strange."
"What is?"
"Didn't quite peg you as the kind to wanna do that stuff."
"What, be a detective?"
"Remember how you were when I first met you? Mr. I'm-Fine-With-My-Path-In-Life? Don't really get how you once wanted to be a detective."
I scoff, "Sorry that my ambitions have fallen so far."
"Why'd you wanna be one, though?"
"It's nothing."
"No, I'm serious," she leans in a bit closer. "I wanna know."
"It's stupid."
"I don't think it'd be stupid."
"You don't even know yet."
"Neither do you, so try me."
I shift a hand through my hair. "You sure?"
"C'mon."
"Well…," I tap the history book a little. "I've been…pretty big on history, since I was a kid. In middle school they taught us about wars sometime in September and, y'know, was pretty standard fare. But I got real into it. So I read a lotta stuff."
"Ugh, it's always books with you, huh?"
"Told you this could be boring."
"No, keep going."
"Like, you read about Hitler, right? You read about Stalin. You read about all these horrible people doing such horrible things, and then you realize we're not even that far off from those days."
"I'd like to think we've progressed pretty far, all things considered."
"You think so?"
"Things aren't perfect. Obviously not. But Rome wasn't built in a day. I think we'll get there."
"Get where?"
"I know utopia's not possible. But maybe we can achieve something close to it?"
"Doubt it."
"Well someone's cynical."
"You read enough of history, you'd be, too."
"I'm pretty sure the world's still got its fair share of assholes, don't get me wrong."
"Not the assholes you should worry about."
"What do you mean?"
"'Good' people. Those are the ones we've all gotta look out for."
"You serious?"
"You don't get the courage to kill millions of people when you think you're wrong to do it. But if you can reframe it in any way to be good, you do. Say those people are evil, or stealing from you, or are standing in the way of progress. Then it's fine. Then you justify it to your people, and soon enough it's fine for them as well. And when you're convinced that Paradise is achieved by getting rid of those evil thieves who stand in the way of progress…"
Her face scrunches up, "The people who called for all that must've been crazy."
"No, they were too sane, if anything," I chuckle. "So sane that they could rationalize to themselves the deaths of millions of Jews, intellectuals, homosexuals, farmers, black people—"
"Okay, stop!" she huffs. "You make it sound like it's so easy for us to just jump into insanity."
"Well, it's not that easy. Like any amount of real change, that kind of resentment and anger rises slowly. But that potential's in all of us. Especially the best of us. Take us away from civilization, give us enough power to control it, or reshape the world to fit your mold. More often than not, that's what we are."
"That's why you wanted to be a detective? 'Cause you think we're all monsters?"
"I think we can all be monsters, if we wanna be. When I read all that stuff the first time, I thought Maybe I can make a difference. Maybe little by little, I can help people. Maybe things can change. Then I grew up."
"Well, maybe you should've shown a little more dedication."
"C'mon…"
"I'm serious! You'd totally make it in the detective business if you tried! I'm sure you would!"
"And would that really change anything?"
"It can't hurt to give it a shot."
I make a pfft noise. "Dad said otherwise. Imagine telling your 13-year-old kid You can't change the world."
"So what? You're just gonna give up on your dreams 'cause your Dad told you to?"
"When people prove your Dad right, you tend to listen a bit more to what he says."
"But you don't talk much to people, I mean—so far you've been talking to me alone these past few months! You're getting all your insights from history books!"
"What else am I gonna use 'em for? Toilet paper?"
"You act like everyone's bound to let you down."
"Everyone is bound to let you down."
"You haven't let me down."
"By the end of the year, I guarantee you'll be sick of me."
"Are you sick of me?"
I furrow my brows at her, "No."
She smirks, "Shouldn't you be saying not yet?"
"Well, for this one instance, I have hope."
"Hope in what?"
"That it won't end with all this up in flames. Because, despite my best efforts to the contrary, I quite like you guys."
Suddenly she's all red and flustered. Then she's turning away. "For all you know, I might end up letting you down."
Not anytime soon, though. "Lets get back to studying."
She sighs, "Sure."
.
.
.
Kana and I had actually agreed days ago to study overnight, on her proposal. She needed help, I was all for a good refresher run, and all the while we'd watch over Masako.
I would leave by Saturday afternoon. Dad's not gonna come home in the next few days and I've bribed the housekeepers to not tell him.
I am to sleep on the couch downstairs and I am fine with that. Though Kana did seem a little...iffy with that idea, for some reason. The only other option was to have us both sleep in the same room, and that's obviously not what she'd want.
But the point is it is now 9:00 PM and Kana and I are supposed to be studying well into the evening but that is not the case.
Because Kana herself is asleep, now.
I just went out a little while ago to the restroom and the moment I came back, I saw her with her head rested on the kotatsu and Masako just sitting next to her, tapping her body with her small open palm.
I am sitting on the opposite end of the kotatsu, watching Kana sleep. My hand is cupping my chin and my elbow is on the table and I am both bored and amused somehow. I don't much like the idea of wasting my time, but something about Kana sleeping so plainly right in front of me kind of sort of makes me feel as though I'm not wasting it at all.
Maybe it's the way her black hair splays about all over the table yet still looks so uniform, like a blotch of black paint over a brown canvas. Maybe it's the way the hair strands hover so neatly over her face without ever touching it or obscuring it too much. Maybe it's the way her closed eyes look so peaceful despite how the lower half of her face is buried in the red of her scarf.
Or maybe I'm just some creep who likes seeing women sleeping right before him. I don't know.
I then notice someone to my left. A little person in her pink clothes, staring at me inquisitively as she stands on her own two stubby little feet.
I ask her, "What is it?"
She tilts her head. I blink, staring back at her and shifting my whole body to face her. She doesn't budge. She turns her head away from me, biting two of her fingers, before turning back and letting her hand fall back to her side.
I do not know how to proceed.
I think of what to say, wonder what to do. Then I remember a book I brought along with me, in my bag. One that I considered handing over to Kana tomorrow, one that she'd read to Masako as a bedtime story. But now that it is 9:00 and it should be Masako's bedtime, I think it's fine to take the first step myself.
So I reach into my bag and pull out the book and turn to the little girl, "This is—"
Aaaand Masako is gone. The door is open. The door to the lower floors. And I hear a rough bumping set of noises as I scramble out the door and I am afraid and I am terrified oh my goodness no please nothing bad happen what what what what—
Masako is at the bottom of the stairs. The bumping noises were just her steps as she rushed down. I sigh, "M-Masako—"
She then runs out of my field of view as I pursue her.
I head down the stairs, not wanting the little girl to end up bumping into some wooden frame and injuring herself. Though the moment I stop by the first floor, I see her nowhere. The door to the outside is locked, so I don't have to worry about her leaving anytime soon. Considering it took her such a short amount of time to hide, she must be somewhere relatively closeby. Unless she's already changed positions by the time I've turned my head.
I think of where she could be. Hiding by the armchair to my right? In the little cupboard to my left? In the restroom? Or the most logical choice...right next to the staircase?
I turn.
There she is.
She giggles, and I sigh.
So an idea passes in my head. Masako needs to rest now. A two-year old can't stay up by 9:00. And I don't wanna carry her to bed. I don't want to drop her or anything. I pretend to ponder what to do as I walk back up the stairs, keeping my head high to make sure Masako knows I'm not looking at her.
But the moment I take my first step, I see her gripping my pant leg. She is looking up at me with wide eyes. Her head is facing the ground however, and she doesn't make a sound as her soft grip tightens 'round the denim.
I smile at her, and she doesn't react. I open my hand to her, and after a few seconds of looking at it, she takes it.
We ascend the stairs slowly.
.
.
.
"This is my favorite book...," I say to Masako. "And you probably won't even understand a thing I say the moment I begin narrating."
Masako eyes me and the book and she is not very impressed by either sight. I don't blame her.
"It's about a pilot," I continue, then asking, "You know what that is?" even though I'm sure she won't understand me—but then she shakes her head as though responding in the negative. I blink, surprised. "W-well, it's a person that flies an airplane."
Masako blinks as she takes another look at the book in my hands and this time seems interested. Seems being the key word.
"He meets up with a little prince whose home is on an asteroid," I tell her. "Asteroid B-612. The Little Prince and the Pilot walk across the land, and the Prince talks to the Pilot about his many journeys throughout the stars. But all the while, The Prince wonders about his lost love: a beautiful Rose he left behind on Asteroid B-612."
Masako is looking at me now, curious. Asking me why without asking me why.
"It was because he was too young to know how to love her," I say. "Her vanity pushed him away, and so he sought other things beyond his planet. Yet he discovered that nothing in the universe would be ever able to replace her, because she was his. And it is this realization that brings him to his knees."
Masako keeps staring at me. After a few seconds, she sits into my lap and keeps her eyes onto the book. She flips open the first page, but tilts her head because of course, she wouldn't be able to read at this point. So I begin narrating.
"'Once when I was six years old, I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing.'"
When Kana sees the drawing, she presses herself into me, as though more than a little scared of the sight but trying to fight it off. It is incredible she's able to understand as much as she does.
I make my voice grand yet cautious as I continue, "'In the book it said: Boa constrictors swallow their prey whole, without chewing it. After that they are not able to move, and they sleep through the six months that they need for digestion.'"
She may not understand a word from The Little Prince, but perhaps someday when she's like seventeen years old a brief flicker of a memory will be triggered in her brain and she'll suddenly find the urge to read about pilots and princes and asteroids. I continue talking and before we know it we manage to reach the point where the Pilot recounts his Drawing Number One.
The picture is that of a yellow pipe-ish creature with a rather large hump for a back. Masako looks at the picture curiously, not knowing what to make of it much.
I tell her of how the Pilot had expected the adults to have been shocked and horrified by what he'd drawn, "'But they answered: Frighten? Why should any one be frightened by a hat?'"
Masako giggles again, smiling now, smiling like her mother.
.
.
.
12 / 6 / 2014
End-term exams are over.
My classmates are chattering about what their plans are for Christmas break and the next school year and all I am doing is turning my head 'round and 'round, looking for Kana. Wanting to know how she's doing, now that the dragon has been defeated. Of course, she is exhausted after her climactic showdown, to the point where she is lying facedown on her desk and unmoving.
I am not surprised, though I am amused. I walk over to her with my bag in my hands and the moment I reach her desk she rises up and sees me. Smiling, she chuckles a little and I notice that she's still wearing that red scarf of hers, despite it being spring. Though I decide not to bring it up, because she looks rather nice with it on. It honestly feels as though the world would not be turning correctly if I am going to one day see her without the red draped over her shoulders.
"So," I say to her, grinning.
"I...think I did alright," she says, scratching at her head. "Though I can't be too sure. Math still destroyed me...I'm sure you did fine, though."
I take in a deep breath, "Biology was troublesome. Didn't expect three essay questions about Darwin and his discoveries. Also had a little trouble in algebra, all things considered; didn't review for it as much as I needed to. In the end, I can expect at least an average grade for both of them."
She smiles, "Well. I'm sure you'll get hundreds regardless."
"We'll see. I'm a little nervous. Pretty much winged it on the last Darwin essay. Not so sure if Tanaka-sensei would very much like what I've written. Lots of erasure marks and all."
"You? Nervous? The world must be coming to an end."
"I'm only human."
She raises her brow, her cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink, "You should come to the house again, during winter break. Read to Masako again."
"I already gave you the book. You've not read it to her yet?"
"I tried...she doesn't listen when I try reading it to her, though. She always just wanders off and does her own thing. With you, she actually sits down and pays attention. You'd made it two chapters with her last time, and I only went as far as a sentence. Guess I'm just not a very good storyteller..."
"If I keep on reading it to her, she'll become too accustomed to me. You've still got a chance to let her get used to you."
"Maybe...," she trails off, before turning back to me. "But back to the point. Come to the house again, and soon. U-unless you'd be okay with..."
"With what?" I ask, her face practically blazing red.
She lowers her head into her scarf as she says, "With...," then she keeps herself silent for a little while longer before letting out a grunting noise, and she tears her head up from her table, "w-would you be interested in coming to the Big Bang Burger store in Ginza?"
"Is that the one you work at?"
Sheepishly, she nods. "Y-yeah...I'll be working on Saturday, but my boss is allowing me some free time by noon this weekend, so...we can just...," she stares into her table, like she can't look at me for some reason, "we can just hang out around the place, then..."
"Who'll take care of Masako?"
"Mom does when I'm out, remember? So...will you be free then?"
I think about it for a little while. Wondering if there's anything I've got planned. But then I see Kana's face blistering red, her freckles turning a deep crimson shade as I realize that I'd just feel bad if I am to say no. So I'll just forget whatever I've got planned then.
"Sure. I can make it."
For a second her eyes flutter and she smiles and she's now laughing as though she didn't expect me to say yes, but then just as immediately she clears her throat and she stutters, "G-good. Great. Alright, then. I'll...I'll see you then. Noon. Remember that."
I nod, "Very well."
.
.
.
.
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NoRoleModelz Chapter Notes:
I've had a very, very tumultuous experience with Persona 5; I can't think of a single game or story where I've had so many changes of opinion.
And really it all stemmed from the fact that, in Persona 5, I perceived was a very strong shift in tone and philosophy from the rest of the series that I didn't really know how to deal with, my first time playing. Personas 3 and 4 in particular had always asserted that the only way a person can "change their heart" so to speak is if they make the choice to; if they decide to mature as a result of their experiences and grow as people.
It's a very empowering, resonant message that stuck with me long after I'd experienced those stories. The idea of an evil man possessing a truly reprehensible Shadow was something I'd longed to see be addressed in the series, and while P5 handed that experience to me on a platter, the proposed solution that the game provided felt...off to me.
The act of forcibly changing people's hearts felt genuinely wrong to me; not in the moral sense, but in the sense that it felt like this was the opposite direction the series had pointed me to for so long. 4 especially had instilled the idea in me that anyone can change into a better person of their own will, and this game comes along and says "What if they don't wanna change?"
It got to the point where, by the time I reached the ending in the Vanilla game, I felt more confused than anything by how things escalated so strongly, and overall I felt the ending was pretty rushed.
Then I watched other peoples' analyses on the ending (namely MangaKamen's critique of Cvit's P5 video, along with Aleczandxr's What Does Persona 5's True Ending Mean?) and I ended up with a far more positive opinion of the game than before. It's helped that I got P5 Royal and it's turning out FAR better than how the original game ever did.
Reading up on Royal's plotline, however, really REALLY got me disappointed in one very specific character. This WHOLE fic is an attempt to rectify that.
The story's also been heavily inspired by SMT III: Nocturne, as both games seem to have an equal disdain for oppressive overlord-deities-it's just that Nocturne goes about it in a much more cynical, much more terrifying way than Persona ever could. Not to say that's a bad thing at all...although considering I'm planning to incorporate much of its themes, ideas, imagery, and even a few of its characters into a Persona 5 novelization, it'll definitely bode poorly for the Phantom Thieves and their Targets.
To this end, Mementos will be massively overhauled and Palaces will have one major change. Hope you stick around, this is gonna be a bumpy ride on the highway to Hell.