The little boy tottered around, helpless and lost, his heart beating wildly. His hands felt like ice, and the growing dread creeping up on him was terrifying.
Mommy, where are you? I'm scared.
His mother had told him to hold on to her hand, and not to let go. They didn't usually come to this part of the city, and it was very dangerous for little boys to go wandering around a busy street full of traffic and strangers, she'd said. And of course, he slipped from her grasp the very moment he saw a toy in a shop window. He knew he wasn't supposed to, but the little toy guitar had bright red buttons and winking lights, and he was drawn to it like a magpie. He ran up to the shop and pressed his nose up against the glass, enthralled.
When he finally tore his eyes away from the toy in the display case, turning around to wheedle his mommy into buying it for him on the spot, she was gone.
It seemed to him that she was carried away, taken from him by the never-ending stream of giant scary grownups moving up and down the pavement. He ran down the sidewalk in one direction, then in the other, trying his best not to get trampled by the crowd, craning his neck upwards, searching for her face in the sea of strangers. But she had vanished, leaving him alone in a world that was suddenly bigger and more frightening than he'd ever known it to be. He followed the flow of the crowd for what felt like hours, not knowing where else to go.
The tears welling up in his eyes were making it difficult to see, and he rubbed them off with a fist, spreading a messy mix of snot and tears all over his face and the sleeve of his bright red hoodie. The crowd had thinned out, and he saw a playground tucked away in a cluster of buildings not far off, its brightly-coloured structures a stark contrast against the grey concrete buildings around it. He felt drawn to its cheery, out-of-place colours, and started running straight towards it. His mother had always brought him to playgrounds, waiting patiently as he bounded and scrambled his way through the slides and ladders and swings. Maybe she was there now!
She wasn't. He collapsed onto the sandpit, sniffling, a dejected splotch of red on the grey-brown sand.
'H'lo.'
He jerked his head up at the soft, unfamiliar voice, and came face-to-face with a very strange-looking little boy about his age. The boy had hair as grey as those he'd seen on old people, and he was very pale, like he was ill. The fluorescent orange anorak he wore didn't help his appearance one bit; it only made him look even more colourless by comparison.
'Who are you?' the strange-looking boy asked.
'My mommy says I should never talk to strangers,' he shot back. The boy made him a little nervous; the expression on his face was as cold as the grey in his eyes.
'I'm not a stranger. I'm Souji,' the strange boy answered, sounding slightly hurt.
'I… I'm Yosuke,' he mumbled, having the sudden feeling that he'd just said something very rude. Of course the little boy wasn't a stranger, he was just another child like himself.
'Yosuke…' Souji tilted his head, looking as if he was committing the name to memory. 'Hello, Yosuke.'
'Hi Souji.' Yosuke didn't know what else to say to him.
'Why are you crying?'
'Nngh…' Yosuke felt the tears coming again. He felt he had to tell someone, anyone, that his mother was missing, that he needed to find her, that he didn't know what to do, and he was scared out of his wits. But it was all too much for a boy his age, and he broke down in a long, drawn-out cry.
'Waaah! Mommy! Mooommyyy!'
The outburst stunned Souji into silence, and he stood awkwardly for some moments as the bawling went on. Then, hesitantly, he knelt down, and took hold of Yosuke's hands. 'Uh… don't cry. Yosuke, don't cry.'
'I w-want Mommy!'
Souji rummaged in his pocket and brought out a sad-looking, half-melted cough-drop wrapped in paper, which he pressed into Yosuke's hand. 'Wanna have this? It's good.'
'I d-don't want it! I want Mommy!'
Souji sat down next to him on the sand, gripping Yosuke's ice-cold hand in his. He waited, through the incoherent wails, through the sobbing, and finally through the hiccups as Yosuke's hysterics died down.
'Your mommy'll come soon.'
'Really?' Large brown eyes turned to Souji, shining with renewed hope.
'Yeah. Really.' Souji smiled at him, and Yosuke thought he looked a lot nicer when he smiled.
They sat there for some time, with Yosuke punching holes in the sand with his finger and sucking on the cough-drop, while Souji observed gravely. Then Souji spoke up again.
'Wanna play?'
'…'Kay.'
Souji got up and ran off, and returned a few moments later with a pair of long twigs.
'What are those for?' Yosuke asked, puzzled. 'What are we doing?'
'We're fighting monsters.' Souji gave him one of the twigs, and lead him towards the center of the playground, where there was a tube slide. He climbed up its ladder, and gestured to Yosuke to join him.
'Come on! Climb up!'
Yosuke didn't know what game it was that Souji was playing. Most of the games he'd played simply involved being chased by the other children round a field, shrieking his lungs out. But this was… different. It smelled of mystery and adventure and excitement. Intrigued, he scurried up the ladder and joined Souji on the top of the slide.
Souji pointed to the slide's circular entrance. 'That's a TV.'
'Huh? That's not a TV. That's a slide.'
'That's a TV,' repeated Souji emphatically. 'When you go into the TV, there'll be monsters, and they'll try to eat you. Then they'll climb out of the TV, and eat everyone in the world.'
He raised the twig in his hand. 'But we have swords! And we can fight them!'
Yosuke looked at the twig Souji had given to him. It had snapped in two when he climbed up the ladder in his hurry; one half was now hanging by a thin sliver of bark.
'Oh… it broke.' Souji scratched at the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. 'I'll look for another one—'
Yosuke grinned and shook his head, pulling the two ends of the stick apart. 'It's even better like this; see, two swords!' He swung them about, executing an intricate series of what he thought were some pretty sweet moves and nearly taking Souji's eye out in the process. In a final display of bravado, he leapt through the slide's entrance, brandishing his blades.
'Wait! Yosuke, wait for me!'
Souji jumped in after him. They went whooshing through the slide, yelling the whole way, and landed in a heap at the bottom. But they didn't have time to sit around going 'ow that hurts!' for very long. They were warriors now, and there were monsters to fight. They jumped up, and waving their little sticks about, slashed through the make-believe monsters with their make-believe weapons, the slender twigs making an exhilarating swishing sound as they sliced through the air.
They cut down one monster after another, their imaginations twisting ordinary objects into bizarre, fantastical creatures—round globes with huge lolling tongues, giant beetles with metal armour, large rocks with eyes, ghosts draped in ragged cloth. To all appearances, they were just a couple of kids running around the playground and making an ungodly amount of noise. But they knew exactly what they were; they were comrades, heroes fighting to save humanity from the monsters lurking in a TV world.
'Yosuke, watch out! Behind you!'
'Yeah! I got it!' He jumped up, slashing at the monster three times in succession before landing back on his feet. With a chilling screech, the creature disintegrated and vanished, and he pumped his fists in the air, triumphant.
It had only been twenty minutes since he'd first met Souji, but Yosuke felt like they'd been friends forever. He felt he could brave anything, demons, monsters, even an entire city filled with crashing waves of scary grownups, as long as Souji was at his side. If someone had stopped him and asked who was his best friend in the whole world, he would have, without even a moment's pause, pointed at the little grey-haired boy who stood beside him. He was smitten with his new friend, and he would have followed Souji anywhere.
He flashed a grin and a thumbs-up at Souji, who smiled back at him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
'Good job, partner!' said Souji.
'"Partner"? What's that?'
'Uh… I heard it on TV one time.' Souji's scrunched up his eyes as he tried to remember. 'I think it means someone who's your best friend, and you do stuff together, and, uh… "look out for each other". Yeah, I think that's what it means.'
'That's a funny word.'
Souji shrugged. 'It sounded cool on TV,' he said, flushing pink and staring at his feet as he dug the toe of his shoe into the sand.
Yosuke knew he'd just said something wrong again. 'Sorry! It's not funny, it's uh… mph. Hey, wanna go through the TV again?'
That seemed to have worked; Souji brightened and nodded.
And went through the TV they did, repeatedly, climbing up the ladder, leaping through the portal, feeling the rush of air whistling past their ears, flying out of the end and landing together in the sand each time, laughing their heads off. It was one of the best feelings in the world.
Yosuke's sides ached as he giggled. Everything else seemed so distant and insignificant now; the big scary grownups in the city, the toy guitar in the shop. Even the fact that his mother was still missing hardly seemed to matter. That is, until large, strong, grown-up hands pulled him out of the sand, and a shrill, all-too-familiar voice assailed his ears.
'Yosuke! Oh thank goodness… Don't you dare do that to me again! You almost gave me a heart-attack! Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you? How many times do I have to tell you; don't let go of my hand when—oh you just had to get dirt all over a brand-new jacket, didn't you?! What am I going to do with you, you little…'
Yosuke knew better than to interrupt his mother when she was ranting at him; it only lead to him being yelled at even more. He looked over his shoulder and saw Souji standing some distance away, looking rather small and shapeless in his ridiculous orange anorak.
'Mommy…' Yosuke whimpered.
'Do you know how worried I was? I was just about to call the police! I do not have the time to deal with your nonsense right now, and…'
'Mommy—'
'What?!'
Yosuke pointed to the little figure behind him. 'S-Souji…'
'No, I think you've had enough fun for today. We're leaving. Say goodbye, and we're going home.'
Yosuke hung his head, and shuffled over to Souji, dragging his feet and kicking up the sand petulantly as he did so.
'Your mommy came back.' Souji was smiling, but Yosuke didn't think he looked at all happy.
'Yeah. She said to say goodbye. But I don't wanna.'
'We'll play again one day. We're partners, right?' Souji looked as if he was about to cry, even as his smile grew wider.
Yosuke's mind was racing. Should he tell his mother that he wasn't coming until Souji could come with them? Or should he tell her that he had decided to stay with Souji forever in the playground? Maybe he should try very hard to explain that they were on a very important mission to rid the TV world of the monsters in it…
'Yosuke! Hurry up!' Yosuke winced; his mother had started yelling again.
'We'll see each other again. I won't forget you, I promise!' he said hurriedly, twisting his head round to check if his mother had that threatening 'carry on like that and you'll get it from me, young man' look on her face.
Then he felt it—Souji's hand on his shoulder, something soft and warm touching his cheek, a whispered 'bye-bye, Yosuke'—and Souji was gone. He slipped away, and the last that Yosuke saw of him was a tiny orange figure darting through the grey buildings surrounding the playground. And all he could do was stare after Souji, blushing, with a hand to his cheek.
Yosuke never met him again, and he soon forgot all about the adventure he had when he got lost in the city. He even forgot the name of the strange little boy whom he fought monsters with, and who kissed him on the cheek and bade him goodbye at the end of it.
No, perhaps he didn't forget it all. Memories are funny things. They get mixed up, they shift and fade and leave gaping holes where they once were. But they're never gone, not completely. Shadows and echoes of it still stayed with him, in one way or another, even as the years went by. He had a certain fondness for cough-drops, though he didn't know how he developed a taste for them. Bright shades of orange and red always made him feel happy and somewhat nostalgic, though he could never explain why. The word 'partner' sometimes got stuck in his head for no reason, and it reminded him of a promise he never managed to keep, though for the life of him, he could never remember what it was.
He was older now, bigger and stronger, and a far cry from the little boy in a dirty red hoodie and a face smeared with snot that he once was. He grew bored of his dark hair, and had it changed to what he thought was a more fashionable tawny brown. Childish daydreams of fighting monsters in playgrounds gave way to much more mundane worries like school and part-time work. The world grew slightly smaller, and it was no longer as scary to him as it once was as he rode the streets on his bike. His family upped and moved to the countryside, where he often found himself braking too hard, vaulting over the handlebars of his bike and landing head-first into a wastebin. For the third time in a week, his trusty bike catapulted him into one with frightening accuracy.
'Aargh! Not again! Dammit—' He rolled around, trapped by the foul-smelling trash bags in the bin. 'Help! Somebody!'
Like anyone's gonna stop and help the Junes kid, he thought peevishly. Why am I even trying?
But someone did stop to help, to his astonishment. The wastebin was held steady, stopping him from rolling, and he heard a quiet, level voice through the walls of the bin.
'Stay still for a bit, and grab my hand. I'll get you out of there.'
The sunlight nearly blinded Yosuke as he wriggled his way out of the dark bin with the help of the stranger. 'Man, thanks for that. I owe you one.' He laughed in embarrassment. 'The roads here are a lot wider than in the city, so I always end up going too fast, and… yeah, you just saw what happens when I do.'
His eyes adjusted to the light, and he soon had a closer look at the stranger's face. It was the oddest thing, but he had the nagging feeling he'd seen those grey eyes before, a long time ago. Could it be—
'Hey, you're that transfer student from my class! I'm Hanamura, by the way. Hanamura Yosuke. I er… sorry, I didn't get your name. I was kinda dozing off during your introduction.'
There was a small smile and a slight nod from the stranger. 'It's Seta. But you can just call me Souji.'
Souji.
The name conjured up strange images in his mind; a playground, a little boy in an orange anorak, a kiss on the cheek. And there was a word, an important word that held a long-forgotten promise.
Partner.
Perhaps the adventure wasn't quite over yet.
