Author's Note:
This is one of those strange stories that truly wrote itself in the span of less than three days. It was meant to be nothing more than a funny drabble about Kotetsu being tutored by Tomoe, and it turned into something else entirely. I have absolutely no explanation for how this story happened. It was written completely spur of the moment, as a single, first draft, and with little to no damned sleep. All that I do know is that it seemed very important for me to write and post this ASAP. Perhaps someone out there needed some sort of message? I sure hope this helped.
Oh dear god, that poor kid is slow, Jun Amamiya thought sadly, listening to his daughter trying to tutor one of the local boys from her school. Being an honor student, Tomoe occasionally got tapped for the duty by her teachers and it wasn't uncommon for her to hold study sessions like this in their family kitchen two nights a week. Some with better results than others . . .
"Fractions consist of two numbers, okay? The top number is called the numerator. The bottom number is called the denominator."
"Why don't they just call it top and bottom? Wouldn't that make it easier to remember?"
"It's going to be on the test. You have to know this. What did I say the top number is called?"
"Just a sec . . . I know it rhymed with terminator. Hey! Did you see that movie?" And then the kid was off on another unrelated topic far removed from anything resembling mathematics. It happened quite often.
Kotetsu T. Kaburagi. There was some talk about him around town. He got into fights, more out of self-defense than anything else, and trouble seemed to follow him around. He wasn't someone Jun was really comfortable his daughter having any kind of close proximity with, truth to tell. Unfortunately, they were in most of the same classes together and the kid was failing first semester (again) so it was almost inevitable when he became her next charity case.
Tomoe's father was a patient, reasonable man and made sure that he didn't interrupt the two teenagers often. This Thursday evening marked their third study session together and he noticed that whenever he went into the kitchen, the boy clammed up and dropped his eyes to the top of the table, unable to make any kind of eye contact. It was a pretty pathetic sight to Jun; more like the actions of a beaten dog than a potential delinquent and for that reason the man stayed in the living room (but didn't stray much further. This was his daughter after all) and let them have their privacy. It was clear that Tomoe had her work cut out for her trying to teach the lad and the exchanges drifting out from the kitchen were becoming almost amusing to Jun's ears.
"Kotetsu, you have to stop counting on your fingers. Mark the points down on the scrap paper and count them that way, if you have to."
"Gee, that's an awful lot of writing. What if I just hide my hands under the table when I do it?"
"You need to focus!"
"I'm trying! This is hard!"
"Look here. See? Division by 9's causes the repeating pattern-"
"Yeah, I see it, I just don't know how to do it."
There was the sound of an exasperated sigh. "Alright, we'll try something a little easier. Here's a problem where we have the average car expenses for the last three months-"
"I don't own a car."
There was a very long pause and then Tomoe tried again: "Here are the average motorcycle expenses for the last three months-"
Jun smiled. He had to give his daughter credit for patience, that was for sure. It went on for over an hour before Kotetsu had to go home and he didn't seem any further along in his studies than when they had began. The teenager passed the elder Amamiya his usual self-conscious, palsied bow on his way out. Tomoe stood in the doorway as the boy drove away on his dirt bike amidst a cloud of blue exhaust and several backfires. Jun patted the armrest of his chair when she closed the door. "You like this boy, don't you?" he asked bluntly.
She looked at him in shock. "The teacher asked me to tutor him, father. It wasn't my choice!"
Jun smiled knowingly. "You've tutored others and never displayed one quarter of the patience that you do with that Kaburagi boy, and he's twice as thick as anyone you've ever taught."
"He's not stupid!" she said crossly, and that was how Jun discovered he was right. His daughter appeared to have developed her first serious crush.
"He's repeating the tenth grade, sweetheart," he said as gently as he could.
High color rose in her cheeks. "That's because the teachers treat him like a pariah. They make him sit in the back of the class like he's got some sort of disease. They never help him. They never call on him. They try to act like he's not even there. I think they like giving tests just so they can fail him!"
"Oh? Now, why would they treat him like that?"
"Because he's a NEXT."
Jun had been sipping his coffee and almost dropped the mug. He looked at his daughter in disbelief. "You brought a NEXT into our home?"
The sudden sight of that recrimination on her father's face, a man she respected above all else and thought the absolute world of, made Tomoe burst into anguished tears. She jumped to her feet and ran to her room, slamming the door. Jun sat in his chair, too astonished to follow after her for a few minutes as he tried to process this information. He was finally able to will his limbs to start moving and went to her bedroom, plainly hearing his girl's plaintive weeping on the other side of the door. He knocked once and let himself inside. She was in her bed curled around a pillow and he sat on the edge and gripped his hands together, forcing himself to remain calm and say: "I'm sorry, Tomoe. That wasn't a very nice thing for me to say."
"No, it wasn't" she snuffled.
"I'm just worried for you, that's all. Some NEXTs can have very destructive powers. What can the Kaburagi boy do?"
Tomoe hesitated for just half a second too long. "Father-"
"What can he do?" Jun asked in a harder voice, and it didn't help his rising anxiety level to hear his little girl say in lame defense, "He has control over it."
That was how Jun Amamiya learned about his daughter's unwilling involvement with some members of the Trueno Toros gang and how Kotetsu had saved her. By demolishing the entire building she'd been trapped in. She spoke of super strength, super speed, and flight and it was all credited to a boy who wasn't even capable of looking at him in the eye in the kitchen. By the end of the story, Tomoe was the one having to comfort her father. "It happened over two months ago. The gang's broken up now and its former leader, a boy named Antonio Lopez, has become a friend of Kotetsu's. He's actually not so bad."
"And he's a NEXT, too." It was not a question.
"Yes, father. He can make himself invulnerable."
Jun ran a hand through his hair and tried to organize his thoughts. Not for the first time he privately cursed the day the first NEXTs ever made their appearance. It didn't help that television was now trying to sensationalize the phenomena and that his daughter was one of the masses who practically worshipped the reality show "HeroTV", which showcased NEXT superheroes crime-fighting in Sternbild City. It all seemed like Hollywood special effects until it showed up under his own damned nose. He was presented with a genuine dilemma here: It was clear his daughter was sweet on the boy and Jun was an intelligent man, smart enough to know that the forbidden treat was the one that teenagers invariably craved the most. He couldn't tell her to stop seeing him. He didn't dare.
"Are you angry at me?" she said meekly.
He sighed and kissed her cheek. "I just wish you had told me when this happened, that's all. It's a miracle that you weren't hurt."
"Kotetsu saved me," she reminded him.
"Yes, he did, didn't he?" he mused, staring at her unhappily. One of her coveted Hero's had emerged from the shadows and rescued the damsel in distress and it turned out to be a boy her age and in her class. Jun had a bad feeling where this was going. There was nothing more reckless and headstrong than young love. He could only pray the attraction was one-sided. Perhaps the Kaburagi boy was sweet on someone else? Perhaps he was gay? Jun would never have thought in all of his days that he would be hoping for something so odd, but there it was. Damn, it was a strange day for revelations.
He knew he was going to be in for a rough time of it, but had to ask the question that any self-respecting parent would feel compelled to ask: "Can someone else be his tutor from now on?"
And yes, there was that indignant anger rising in her face, making her eyes light up behind her glasses. "I'm the only one who isn't scared of him. Even Ms. Nakamura, our math teacher, won't hardly talk to him. You don't know how bad it is at school, father. All of the other NEXTs who turned sixteen quit school because of all the bullying. He's the only one left."
"Why is he being so stubborn? It's pretty clear he's not a scholar."
"He wants to be a Hero, but the minimum education requirement is a high school diploma."
Oh, this just keeps getting better and better. "He wants to be a Hero . . ." Jun echoed under his breath.
"He can do it, father. He has the powers, he has the personality, but . . . he's not very book smart. People think he's stupid but he's not. He really isn't. He built that motorcycle he drives practically from scratch, and you should hear him play the guitar. He's very talented."
Tomoe was describing three quarters of the panhandlers that lounged on Sternbild's sidewalks at any given day, but Jun was kind enough not to tell her so.
"Are you going to forbid me to see him?" she asked gravely.
"Would it do me any good to do that?"
She shook her head, on the cusp of tears again.
"Then I won't waste my breath. You can continue to tutor the boy, so long as there's someone in the house at all times."
"Thank you, daddy!" she gushed, wrapping her hands around his neck and kissing him on the cheek. Jun hadn't really done anything, just surrendered the matter to fate, but he revelled in the attention just the same. Children grew up so quickly. He couldn't remember the last time his little girl had lapsed and called her "daddy".
"Before your next study session though, I want to talk to his parents."
And that promptly ended the parent-love session right then and there. Tomoe drew back, immediately on her guard. ". . . Why?"
"I just want to make sure that we're all on the same page, sweetheart."
She appeared to seriously consider it over. "Kotetsu's father died when he was twelve. His mother works shifts at the Kompeitō factory. His brother owns and runs a liquor store in town."
Jun thought that the boy's last name sounded familiar. He knew the store, had probably bought something from it once or twice in the past. He was content to let the matter rest at that.
His wife came home shortly after and they enjoyed a quiet supper with absolutely no mention of the earlier conversation brought up while they ate. Jun wanted to collect some more information before he dropped this bomb on his wife. Only once the meal was finished and the dishes washed did Jun excuse himself saying he was going to meet a friend for a drink. His wife passed him an absent nod, it wasn't uncommon, but Tomoe passed him a suspicious glance as he stepped out of the door.
Kaburagi Liquors & Spirits was located on the west side of Oriental Town. It had a small bar where a few of the locals were seated. These patrons eyed Jun curiously when he walked in, dressed in his upper middle-class clothes. It was pretty clear this was a part of town where class still counted for something and Jun stood out among these poor locals like a sore thumb.
There was a young man standing behind the counter also giving him a veiled look. He was probably in his mid to late twenties, with short dark brown hair, and a wiry, threatening build. "Can I help you?"
"Are you Kotetsu Kaburagi's brother?" Jun asked doubtfully. It looked like quite an age difference between the siblings, but there was a vague resemblance that Jun couldn't ignore.
The younger man's eyes narrowed. "Why? What's he done now?"
"Well, nothing-"
"Kotetsu!" the man barked, pulling aside a curtain to look in some back room. "Get your ass in here!"
Jun was aware that the men beside him were snickering among themselves. He extended his hand over the bar. "My name is Jun Amamiya."
"Muramasa Kaburagi. I apologize in advance for whatever my brother's done-"
"He hasn't done anyth-"
"What is it? You made me lose my count!" Kotetsu said, emerging from around the curtain. He took one look at Jun and promptly dropped the box of empty bottles he was carrying. They fell to the floor and smashed. The men at the bar burst out laughing as if this was a common occurrence.
"Dimwit!" Muramasa thundered.
"I-I'm sorry, Masa!" the teenager stammered, cringing away from him.
This was spiralling quickly out of control. "Listen!" Jun shouted. "I just came in here to buy a bottle of wine. That's all. Perhaps you could show me some of the more popular brands?" He passed Muramasa a hard look.
It was obvious the older brother had the brains of the family. He caught the meaning behind that look and roughly shoved a broom into Kotetsu's hands. "Don't touch anything. Not one single thing. You hear me?" he instructed, going around the side of the bar to 'help' Jun.
Kotetsu swallowed, nodded, and fumbled with the broom, losing his grip. It fell against where the glasses were stacked and knocked one pile over. They joined the broken bottles on the floor in a shattered heap. The men at the bar cracked up again.
Muramasa hesitated in mid step, closed his eyes for longer than a blink, and then continued on, muttering, "Moron," under his breath.
"He's a little young to be working here, isn't he?" Jun asked once they were in the back of the store away from prying eyes. And ears.
"Our mother's currently working nights at the local plant. This is the only way I can keep an eye on him. Why are you really here?" Muramasa asked in an unfriendly voice, crossing his arms.
"I was wondering if you were aware that my daughter was tutoring Kotetsu in math?"
"No, I wasn't, but I can see why you'd be concerned. You want me to put a stop to it. Is that right?"
Jun blinked at him. "Actually, I wanted to discuss another matter-"
"Oh. You found out he's a NEXT?"
"I- Well, yes, there is that, but-"
"And you have a daughter. I more than understand why you're here," Muramasa grumbled, sparing a glance around the corner. "Personally, I wish it was legal to sterilize NEXTs, I really do. It would really give me some piece of mind now that Kotetsu's a teenager. Thanks for coming by."
Before Jun even knew what was happening, a bottle of wine was shoved into his hands and Muramasa was returning to the bar. "Kotetsu! His daughter's off limits from now on. You got that?"
"Just a minute-" Jun was saying.
"Huh?" Kotetsu looked up from where he was finishing cleaning the broken glass and stared at his brother in confusion. "Why? What'd I do?"
"Who cares? He doesn't want your kind around her and neither do I."
Jun was shaking his head. "Just one damn minute! I didn't-"
"But brother-!"
Muramasa stuck a finger directly into his younger sibling's face. "If you're gonna start bawling, go outside. I'm sick of seeing it."
Kotetsu spared an urgent, distressed glance at Jun and, yes, it looked like his eyes were filling up with tears. The teenager whirled around and ran out of the bar area. Somewhere in the back there was the sound of something else breaking before the back door slammed shut. Muramasa shook his head in irritation.
"Hah! I thought you were keeping him around to save money," one of the regulars at the bar chuckled.
The elder Kaburagi ignored him as he stared at Jun with his hand out. "That'll be three dollars."
Jun was so flustered and angry by how effectively he had been manipulated that he was paying for his unwanted purchase and walking outside before he even knew what he was doing. He stood under a streetlamp for several minutes trying to process what had just happened. He couldn't have known that Kotetsu's brother resented NEXTs and was itching for an excuse to make his younger sibling's life miserable. Jun had walked in, blissfully ignorant, and in the span of just a few short minutes had just made everything worse for the boy. He had seen the fear and dismay on the teenager's face the single time the youth had managed to look him in the face. It wasn't something Jun wanted to see again.
He walked around to the back of the store and found the teen sitting on the ground with his back against the building, sobbing into his hands. It was nothing like the angry tears his daughter had shed in her room only a few hours before. These tears sounded like they were coming from a soul that was lost, and hurt, and completely without hope. ". . . Kotetsu?"
The teenager's breath hitched and he looked around blindly. When he saw Jun he clambered awkwardly to his feet. "I didn't do anything to her!" he shouted, scrubbing his eyes. "T-Tomoe's muh-my fr-friend!" He was crying so hard he could barely draw in a breath.
"Look, calm down-"
"Hey dimwit-" Muramasa opened the back door and saw the pair facing off. "What the hell-?"
Kotetsu's nerve shattered. His body became sheathed in a piercing blue glow and, with a final sob, he leapt into the air and disappeared into the night. Jun was left dazzling over the display. The boy had moved so fast that the man was left blinking away the afterimage of a single blue streak from his eyes.
"Great," Muramasa was saying, his hands on his hips as he stared into the sky. "Just great." He swung his head around and stared at Jun accusingly. "You'd better hope he doesn't go and do something stupid. His power-ups only last for five minutes but you wouldn't believe how much damage he can-"
"We got our wires crossed before," Jun interrupted, resolving to take control of the conversation this time. "I wasn't forbidding your brother from seeing my daughter. I don't have any problem with her tutoring him in math."
Muramasa stared at him in disbelief. "You don't? Shit. What kind of father are you?"
Jun's eyes narrowed. "When you see him, just tell him this was all a terrible misunderstanding. Would you do that?"
"Sure, if I see him," the younger man said, adding a lame shrug. "Odds are he went over to Lopez's house. Those freaks like to stick together so I don't care too much. It just pisses me off when Kotetsu tries to use that Spanglish crap on me-"
Jun was really starting to dislike this man more by the second. "Just . . . Please, just tell Kotetsu I'm very sorry and he can continue to come over for lessons. All right?"
"Sure, whatever," the man said dismissively and went back inside, firmly closing the door.
Rather than return home, Jun went to his favorite bar in his far more friendlier neighborhood and nursed a drink slowly, glancing at his watch. He knew that he was deliberately waiting until Tomoe went to bed before returning home. She no doubt suspected why he'd left the house in the first place and Jun wasn't prepared for the inquisition that would await him when he returned.
He wouldn't know what to say.
The next day, Tomoe was scanning the bike racks for Kotetsu's bicycle and surprised when she didn't see it, or him. The teen usually showed up at school early just so the two could talk about homework or do a little cramming for a test. She went to the parking lot, wondering if he had brought his dirt bike, and didn't see that either. Kotetsu had received a written warning from the principal that he was forbidden to drive the bike on school grounds without a muffler and Tomoe knew that he hadn't had the money to get it fixed yet. Still, she didn't like the thought that Kotetsu might be playing hooky either. He was already on his final warning for that and it was only November.
The first bell rang and Tomoe cast the schoolyard one final, desperate glance and went to her first class. The table at the back wall where Kotetsu stayed in exile for his lessons was empty and Tomoe took her seat along with the other students. The concern and anger she was feeling had no rhyme of reason to it. He was just a boy she was tutoring, that's all.
Just before the doors shut and lessons began, Kotetsu squeezed in just as it was swinging closed and went to his table at the back of the room.
"That was close, Mr. Kaburagi," the teacher admonished, privately wishing she'd been slightly quicker with her reflexes. The students snickered among themselves and Tomoe breathed a sigh of relief. Kotetsu took his seat, opened his books, and pretended to look interested in what he was doing. Several times Tomoe tried to catch his eye but he ignored her. That continued right up to the end of the class when he stuffed all of his papers and books back into his knapsack in an unorganized mess and was out of the door the second the bell rang.
His dramatic entrance and exiting strategy continued for the rest of the day. During each of those classes he made it a point not to look up from his table. Not one single time. Tomoe was starting to get a little worried. Kotetsu tended to avoid her when he had been in a fight and didn't want her to see his new bruises or band-aides. At the last class, she managed to corner him in the hall at the end of the period, which was no small feat. Whether he was powered up or not, he could move faster than normal people. It was one of the reasons he was barred from being allowed to attend Phys. Ed. with the rest of the boys.
At her close proximity, he practically slammed himself against the wall trying to maintain some distance between them. If he tried any harder, he'd probably be going through it.
"What's the matter with you? You've been acting weird all day."
"N-nothing, Tomoe," he said, making a concentrated effort to look everywhere but directly at her. The lockers, the fluorescent lights, even his shoes seemed to catch his fancy.
She raised herself on her tiptoes and grabbed his jacket. "You tell me what's wrong, Kaburagi. I mean it!"
"Everything's cool," he said, trying to extricate her fingers as gently as he could. "I'm just having, like, kind of bad day, is all. Don't worry so much."
"Why don't I believe you?" she asked suspiciously.
"Is everything all right here?" asked Mr. Inoue, the guidance councillor.
"Fine," the pair said together.
The man regarded Tomoe with concern for a moment and then handed Kotetsu some papers that were stapled together. "Fill this out and have your mother sign her signature in the place indicated. We'll process it first thing Monday morning. Is that understood?"
"Yes sir," Kotetsu said bleakly.
He shook the teen's hand. "If I don't see you again. Good . . . luck."
"Thank y-" the councillor only permitted one brisk pump of hands and then pulled quickly away and left before Kotetsu had even finished speaking. The teen looked down at his hand left hanging in empty space and dropped it with a sigh.
Tomoe was frowning at him. "What's going on?" She was nodding at the papers he was holding. "What's that?"
He was vainly trying to stuff them into his pocket until she snatched them out of his hand. "Hey!"
"What is this-?" She read the form's name and looked at him disbelief. "You're quitting school?"
Blushing, he snatched them back from her and tried to make an escape. He got as far as the stairs before she managed to pull him to a stop. "Why are you quitting? I thought you wanted to be a Hero!"
"I do!"
"You need a diploma."
"I stayed at Tony's last night. He said there's no reason why a GED wouldn't be as good. And he's right. I don't need this crap," he was gesturing at the school. "And I can't do it alone anymore. It's just too hard. It's too-" he broke off, swallowing back the word painful, because Tomoe might make him try to explain what he meant by that and he wouldn't be able to.
"You're not alone. I'm helping you with math. I'll help you with the other courses-" She was aware that he was shaking his head. "Why not?"
"Tomoe, your dad went to see my brother last night. They both made it pretty clear I'm not supposed to see you any more. Hell, I shouldn't even be talking to you now."
"So that's how you're going to solve it? By quitting school?"
"I should've done it last year," he said, dropping his eyes again. "Thanks for all your help, Tomoe. I'm sorry I used to call you Goggles. You . . . you're really nice."
"Kotetsu!"
He passed her an absent wave and left, moving quickly down the stairs.
"Kotetsu!" she hollered over the banister.
"Oh, hush up, Tomoe," one of her friends came up beside her, grabbing her arm. "Why are you making such a scene?"
"Yeah, someone might get the impression you like the freak," added another, rolling her eyes.
"You don't even know him," Tomoe said bleakly. "It isn't his fault he's a NEXT."
"Even if he wasn't, he's still dumb and poor," one of the girl's dismissed. "The only thing he's got going for him is his looks."
"Suri!" the other girl hissed.
"Hey, I'm not blind!" Suri said honestly. "He's tall and kind of cute. Don't tell me you haven't noticed? Shame he's a freak, is all. Right, Tomoe? Tomoe?"
The girl had moved away from them, flashing them a look of anger before she hurried down the stairs. The two girls exchanged a wordless, perplexed glance and followed after her.
For all of the betrayal that Kotetsu was used to experiencing from adults, he was quite unprepared for the reaction he got from his mother when he handed her the paperwork from school. She took one glance and promptly ripped them in half. "No. You're not quitting," she said and turned back to the stove.
"MA!" he cried in disbelief, diving to the floor to collect the shredded documents.
She slammed her foot down on one of the ripped papers. "I said no."
He sat on the floor and looked up at her in confusion. "Why not? I'm no good at it. I'm never gonna go to college. It's just a waste of time!"
"You are a Kaburagi. We are not a family of quitters. You are going to finish high school and that's final!"
The tears were close again and he struggled to keep them at bay. He hated crying in front of his mother even more than in front of Muramasa. Unfortunately, crying was all he seemed to be doing lately. It was like some weird side-effect of his powers. "I hate it there! I'm the only senior NEXT left! I might as well be in prison!"
She turned and bopped him on the top of the head with her wooden spoon. "I won't hear any of that nonsense either! Honestly, Kotetsu, you talk about Heroes all the time. Don't you think that they face their share of hardships? They don't handle them by running away, do they? Of course not! They face their problems head-on."
"Ma, we're not talking about some bank hold-up. Or a-a building that's on fire. I've been going through this for years. I can't do it anymore!" His voice broke and he looked guiltily away, settling his back against the cabinet and drawing his knees up to his chest. "I'm not going back," he said sullenly.
"This isn't your decision to make. You need to talk it over with a teacher or a guidance councillor first-"
"Who do you think gave me the papers?"
Anju recoiled as if slapped. ". . . What did you say?"
"I went to talk to Mr. Inoue, guidance councillor, at the start of school this morning. He said quitting was my best choice-"
"He said what?" she shouted, giving her son her full attention for the first time since this discussion started.
"Haven't you been listening? They don't want NEXTs at the school. Mr. Inoue was happy to get those papers for me! They don't want me there!"
A dark cloud settled over the woman's face as she absorbed what she was hearing. She was no stranger to hardships: a bride at fourteen, married to an abusive man almost three decades her senior; a widow at thirty-eight with two boys; one a surly adult and the other a passive NEXT. The family had inherited a liquor store deeply in debt thanks to her late husband's gambling habits with two mortgages against the house. There wasn't a day that went by that Anju didn't fear lay-offs at the plant and face the prospect of being homeless. And now she had to face facts that her son, already emotionally-scarred by the abuse he had suffered from his late father, was now on the receiving end of discrimination from the very people at school who should be helping him. She had been forced to stand helplessly on the sidelines and watch while her husband attacked her youngest child (he had been from the old country and thought that he could beat out the demon that was giving his son his supernatural abilities), but she didn't have to tolerate it any longer. Enough is enough. "I'm going to go with you to school Monday morning," she said, her lips set into a rigid straight line. "We're going to talk to your principal and to that Mr. Inoue. We're going to sort out this nonsense once and for all."
"Ma?" Kotetsu asked uneasily. He had seen his mother mad before, usually at him, but the anger he was seeing on her face right now seem to eclipse anything he had ever seen before. ". . . Do you think that's a good idea?"
"If what you said is true, that they're driving NEXTs out of the school on purpose, I'm pretty sure that's against the law. And if it isn't, it should be! If your principal won't listen to me, I'll talk to a lawyer. If that won't work, I'll talk to a reporter! I'll-"
While she raged on Kotetsu lowered his face to his knees and moaned sickly. All of the members of the household had a fearsome temper when their backs were up and his mother was no exception. She was still in a lousy mood an hour later when Muramasa showed up for supper. The older sibling made the mistake of calling Kotetsu with his customary greeting, "Hey, dimwit-" and received a ladle against the side of the head. He held his temple and looked over at his mother in disbelief. "What was that for?"
"There'll be no disrespecting your brother in this house," Anju said, flashing her eldest a cautionary look as she set the table. "He's having a bad enough day as it is."
Kotetsu was seated at his place setting, his head supported on one hand and never even bothered looking up. He was picturing the meltdown that was going to happen in the principal's office Monday morning with extreme dread. God, if the teachers hated him now . . . his mother was going to make things ten times worse.
"Cripes, are you still moping about that guy's daughter?" Muramasa said, sliding into his seat.
Kotetsu flashed him a resentful look as Anju asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Nothing-" Kotetsu began but, as ever, his brother easily talked over him, saying, "Some well-off guy showed up in the store last night. Apparently, his daughter has been tutoring dim-Kotetsu in math."
"That's wonderful!" Anju said, looking at her youngest. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because he doesn't want me around her anymore, that's why," Kotetsu mumbled.
"Actually, that's not true," Muramasa said, beginning to fill his bowl with soba noodles. "Seems I got the wrong impression, but who could blame me? Anyway, the old man said you can still go on receiving lessons from her."
Kotetsu blinked slowly. ". . . What?"
"You deaf now as well as dumb?"
"Masa!" Anju brandished her chopsticks as if they were a weapon.
"The old man apologized for the mix up. If you hadn't run away like a little girl you would have known things were alright-"
"They weren't alright! You told me to stop seeing her!" Kotetsu suddenly shouted, jumping to his feet. "Not him! You!" His aura exploded around his body and his eyes blazed blue fire.
A wary, fearful expression crossed the older sibling's face as he slid back in his chair, raising his hands in desperate self-defense. It was at times like these he had to face facts that, in terms of physical prowess, he ran a distant second against his super-powered brother. It was also a time when he realized just how truly scared he was of the teenager. "Look, calm down. I got things a little mixed up. I'm sorry-"
"You're not sorry! You've never been sorry!" the teen raged. He was careful not to touch the table in his anger but when he kicked his chair back, it flew against the counter and shattered into kindling. He hardly noticed. "You're no better than Mr. Inoue or those other assholes in school. God, you even talk about neutering me like I'm some stupid dog! Why do you hate me so much?"
Anju looked at her oldest boy in shock. "What is he talking about?"
High color rose out of the neckline of Muramasa's collar and quickly flooded his entire face. It was possible that Kotetsu had overheard his conversation with Jun Amamiya last evening. Then again, Muramasa had voiced his particular opinion on the subject several times before, quite possibly with his younger brother within earshot (and maybe even on purpose).
"Go to your room, Kotetsu," Anju said stiffly. "You need to calm down and I need to have a talk with your brother. Go!"
The teen left without objection, keeping to a tight path that didn't have him brush up against any household surface and cause possible damage, and it was a feat he managed with the barest of self-control. Once in his room, he closed the door and lifted the heavy bookcase from the far wall and placed it against the door as a barricade. It wasn't something he'd done since his father had been alive, but he did it now out of some sort of desperate instinct. Dropping his powers, he crawled into his bed and curled into a trembling, miserable ball.
Two hours later there was a rap of knuckles on his door. Kotetsu snapped his eyes open and looked at the clock beside the bed. It was eight o'clock, time for his mother to head into work for her night shift, which started at nine p.m. "Kotetsu, are you going to be alright?"
"I'm fine, ma," he said, amazed that he sounded almost normal. He sure didn't feel that way.
"Stay home tonight. There's plenty of leftovers in the fridge for you. We'll settle all that nasty business at school, so stop worrying. It'll be all right, I promise."
"Thanks, ma. Love you."
"I love you, too," she said, but lingered outside of his door longer than normal. Finally, he listened to her footfalls go past his room. The bank had repossessed the family car last year and Anju got a ride with a co-worker from the plant. Kotetsu heard the car horn beep once and then burst into motion.
He packed as much of his belongings as he could fit into his duffle bag, slid the bookcase aside just enough to squeeze out of the door, and left the house without so much as backwards glance. He cut across two fields to avoid the local roads and came out on the highway, inclining his thumb. The first four cars flew past him but he got his hopes up when a fifth slowed down on the approach. Then the red and blue lights began to flash. Kotetsu, hardly able to process his unbelievable run of bad luck lately, panicked and ran. He jumped down the slope and made a dash for the tree line. There were some warning shouts from the state trooper on the highway, but fortunately chasing a hitchhiker didn't appear to be in his job description for the night. After a shining his spotlight around for a few minutes, the trooper got back into his car and drove off. Utterly disconsolate, Kotetsu returned home. His idea of becoming a runaway had lasted less than one hour. It had to be some sort of record.
After that humiliation, he ate the leftovers and brooded for awhile, wandering the house like a caged tiger. He didn't like being alone and contemplated going over to Antonio's house again. Tony lived in the district nicknamed Little Havana with his mother, an uncle, two aunts, two sisters, with a bunch of nieces, nephews, and cousins thrown into the mix. There was always someone shouting at somebody else, music playing, TVs blaring, and general chaos and Kotetsu loved every single second of it. He was even picking up some of the language they hollered back and forth (although he doubted it could ever be used in polite company). Despite the limited space and resources, Tony's mother always made Kotetsu feel welcome. It should have looked funny, the one Asian kid amidst the sea of Hispanics, but it didn't and the gentle, dopey teen was accepted into their ranks as if he were one of their own. It was certainly more acceptance than Kotetsu got in his own household, that was for sure.
He was reaching for the phone to call Tony and noticed that the light on the answering machine was blinking. His mother had probably called to check up on him while he was out making his Great Escape. Or Muramasa. His brother only did it to ensure he was home instead of out possibly getting into trouble. Muramasa was best friend's with the Sherriff's son, who was also a cop, and never hesitated sending his buddy around to the house in his cruiser for a 'well-being' check when Kotetsu failed to answer the phone. Mentally steeling himself, he pressed 'Play' and listened.
It was a girl's voice, sounding unsure of herself when faced with the prospect of talking to a machine. Kotetsu recognized who it was immediately. "Uhm, hello? I-I'm calling for Kotetsu Kaburagi? It's Tomoe Amamiya. I- there was a misunderstanding involving my father last night. Things . . . well, they got really mixed up and I just want to make sure that you know everything's all right. I hope that you'll call me back when you get this message. Please? It's really important."
She gave her number at the end but Kotetsu already knew it. It was one of the few he'd successfully memorized. His hand automatically reached for the phone but he hesitated. Tomoe was a nice girl, too nice for the likes of him. Maybe it was best if he just used this excuse to keep his distance. He knew that her friends were starting to give her grief for tutoring him and she didn't deserve that. Still, if his mother was going to have her way (and he had absolutely no doubt that she would) he would be forced back to school facing Tomoe every day. He couldn't avoid her. This one day had been hard enough.
Call her back. Don't call her back. God, he hated this mental bullshit. He was no good at thinking. He grasped the receiver and used it to rap himself on the forehead in a kind of penance before putting it back and stomping to his room. The door was partially blocked and he shouldered it open with an weary grunt, forgetting about the bookcase he had placed behind it. It fell over with a crash, colliding with his desk and propelling the reading lamp through the window. In the span of less than ten seconds, it looked like his bedroom had been ransacked by a pack of demented thieves.
Kotetsu considered the mess, his mouth slack open in shock, hands fisted in his hair. He didn't even know where to begin to start cleaning up. Eventually, he decided to scotch-tape a piece of bristol board across the broken window and ended up cutting his hand. Howling in pain he ran to the bathroom, slipped on the rug, and fell headlong into the bathtub.
He decided to lay there for awhile, dazed. He began to think that maybe his brother was right after all: A guy as stupid as him shouldn't be allowed to breed. Not ever. Maybe he should just get a razor and do the job himself. Hell, why not just go the whole way and simply end it? Seems like it would make an awful lot of people happy. One less mouth for his mother to feed. One less embarrassment for his brother to deal with. One less NEXT in a world that hated them anyway. The more he thought about it, the more logical it seemed to get and that didn't happen very often. Usually when he tried to puzzle things out, they got all convoluted and turned into a jumbled mess. But this . . . Hell, it seemed to stand out in his mind with crystal clear clarity, because it was just so damned simple-! Simple enough that even a dummy like him could understand it. For too many years he had felt victimized and bullied and scared and had never realized that he, alone, had the ability to set himself free at any time of his choosing.
"Huh," he said, staring at the ceiling and marvelling over this wonderful revelation. It was like the answer to a prayer.
He climbed out of the tub and stood on unsteady legs for a moment and then went over to the medicine cabinet above the sink, opening the door. Blood was dripping from the cut on his right hand but he really didn't care. In a few minutes things were going to get messy anyway, so a few drops on the floor now really didn't seem to matter in the grand scheme of things. He rummaged briefly through the bottles and containers and toothpaste tubes and found the old package of razor blades that used to belong to his dad, now five years in his grave. He pulled one out and held it up against the bathroom light, watching the light play across its surface like silver whiskers. It was mesmerizing really, and it seemed incomprehensible that something so slim and seemingly fragile could easily put an end to so much suffering. Kotetsu actually laughed a little, hardly noticing the wetness that was trailing down his cheeks as he placed the blade against his left wrist and gently drew it across the veins in a diagonal cut. A little rill of blood appeared and the shallow wound stung a bit, but he didn't think it was really going to be all that bad. He tightened his hold, angling the blade, and got ready to start cutting for real.
The phone in the kitchen started ringing. He froze. It rang five times and then the answering machine clicked on. Kotetsu found himself hoping it was Muramasa. It would make what he was prepared to do even easier.
It wasn't his brother. It was Tomoe. It sounded like she was crying. "Kotetsu, I haven't heard from you yet tonight. I just want to make sure that you're okay. I'm a little worried about you. I'm going to keep calling until you pick up-" She carried on until the two minute limit on the machine terminated the call. The phone immediately began ringing again. She was on the answering machine again. Crying harder. "Please, Kotetsu. I-I don't know why, but I feel like something's wrong. I'm probably being silly and you can laugh at me all you want. I don't care so long as you talk to me tonight-" The cycle repeated itself. This time she sounded almost frantic. "Pick up the phone! I know you're there listening! I know it! Kotetsu!"
This time he reacted. He dropped the razor and stumbled into the kitchen and reached for the receiver. By now, Tomoe was practically screaming on the other end. It blasted into his ear and helped chase away some of the darkness. "-If you can hear me, just pick up the phone. Say something! Anything! Tell me you're all right-"
"Hello?" he asked dully.
The shouting abruptly ceased. He missed it a little. ". . . Kotetsu?"
He slid bonelessly to the floor, looking over at the clock on the mantle. "Oh, hey Tomoe . . . Wow, do you normally stay up this late?"
"Kotetsu, are you all right? You sound funny."
"Me? Naw. I'm always funny. Regular jokester. That's me," He felt that wetness on his face and rubbed it away, dismissing it as tears. Both of his hands were already bloody but he was surprised to see some fresh blood there. "Huh. Guess I fell harder than I thought . . ." He looked down at himself and betrayed a bark of laughter. "Oh man, I'm a mess!"
Tomoe kept him talking while her father called an ambulance and then drove over to the Kaburagi house to meet it. Jun Amamiya still felt badly over how the meeting with the older brother had gone the night before. It didn't help that his daughter had resolved to make his life hell the second he got home from work. He called Muramasa at his store and was comforted by the fact that Kotetsu had been assured it had all been a misunderstanding. There had been a bitter, vindictive tone to the older brother's voice that Jun couldn't comprehend, but none of that mattered anymore now that everything was back to normal.
For some reason, that information didn't seem to comfort Tomoe. Not in the least. She called Kotetsu's number a few times after supper, hanging up when she got the answering machine. Later in the evening, she marshalled up the courage to leave a message. By the time she was supposed to be in bed she had become almost hysterical over the phone. Jun and his wife were beginning to wonder if they were going to have to sedate her somehow. Then it was revealed that the Kaburagi boy was hurt, possibly quite badly.
And, somehow, Tomoe had known.
The paramedics were in the process of entering the house when Jun pulled into the yard. Neighbours were already starting to look out of their front doors and step out onto their lawns when Jun walked into the house. Kotetsu was still sitting in the kitchen holding the phone and cheerfully chatting away with Tomoe as if everything was hunky-dory. He was completely covered in blood. When he noticed the medics, he told them absently, "I hope you took your shoes off or my mom's gonna be pissed."
They took the phone away from him and began their examination. The receiver hung on the end of its cord for awhile before Jun snatched it up, grimacing at all of the blood that coated it. Blood seemed to be everywhere. "-Kotetsu? Hello? Can anyone hear me?" came Tomoe's tinny voice from the speaker.
"Tomoe, it's your father. I'm here with the paramedics."
"Daddy, how's Kotetsu? What happened to him?"
"Just a second-" Jun cupped the receiver and asked one of the men, "Was this a home invasion?"
"Doesn't look like it," the man said briefly, helping his partner put Kotetsu on the stretcher. He was still babbling about dirty footprints on his mother's clean floor. "Looks like a suicide attempt. We'll learn more when we get him to the hospital. He might have a mild concussion and has a scalp laceration that'll need a few stitches. The wounds on his hands don't look too deep. He should be okay."
"I . . . thank you," Jun said, flabbergasted. He didn't know what else to say.
"You gonna call the kid's folks?"
"Sure. I-I'll let them know . . ."
The medic passed him a nod and they wheeled Kotetsu outside to the ambulance. He was quiet now. The other paramedic had gotten tired of being ragged on for not taking off his shoes and slapped an oxygen mask over his mouth. The doors slammed shut and the vehicle sped away and Jun was left alone in the house, staring after them in shock. It gradually dawned on him that his daughter was shouting out of the phone again. Numbly, he put it to his ear, not caring about the blood anymore. "Tomoe, honey, he's going to be okay. He fell and hit his head and they're taking him to the hospital for stitches. He's going to be okay-" he repeated, while hearing in his mind the words of the paramedic, 'suicide attempt'.
"Oh thank god." His daughter was chanting into the phone. "Thank god, thank god-"
"Tomoe . . . How-how did you know-? How could you know . . .?"
"I can't explain it, daddy. It just felt like something was wrong. Was it just his head? Was it . . . was he hurt anywhere else?"
Jun's eyes were following the blood droplets that went out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. "Why do you ask?"
There was a long pause before she said in a meek voice. "No reason, daddy."
Jun closed his eyes. "I have to call his family, sweetheart. I'll talk to you when I get home. I love you," he said and hung up. He saw the contact numbers of Kotetsu's mother and brother written on a piece of paper on the wall but he didn't call them. Not yet. Not until he sorted out a few things first.
He followed the blood drops to the bathroom and saw there was another sparser trail coming from the room across the hall. He walked into Kotetsu's bedroom, frowning at what looked like the focal point of a major tantrum, judging by the upset furniture, thrown books, the broken window-
He had been starting to turn away when something caught his eye and he went closer to the window. It looked like Kotetsu had been taping some cardboard over the hole and cut his hand on a jagged piece of glass. Okay, so that was how he cut his right hand. Perfectly explainable. So the kid is hurt and runs to the bathroom-
Jun found the bathroom rug wadded up by the toilet and the tub full of bloody handprints. So the kid slips, falls in the tub, looking like he beaned himself a good one going in, too, judging by the bloody smear on the rim. Also perfectly explainable. The kid is stunned, not in his right mind-
-So he goes over to the sink, opens the medicine cabinet, and pulls out the package of razor blades. That's where things start going really wrong for Jun, because he's looking down and seeing the bloody blade on the floor along with the rest of the blood. It's all wrong because it's clear that Kotetsu had been poised to slit his wrists, had made a superficial cut on his left one, actually, and was going to go all out. But he stopped. He had stopped because-
Jun followed the blood trail back out to the kitchen where they stopped at the phone. He walked the circuit twice. He listened to the desperate messages on the answering machine. Hearing the escalation of panic in his daughter's voice with each call she made. There could be absolutely no doubt what happened here. Kotetsu's in the act of committing suicide and Tomoe calls right at the exact moment he's doing it and interrupts him. The kid finally drops the blade and goes to answer the phone. Because it's his friend and she's upset and in tears. Because she knows that something is wrong with him.
It felt like the temperature in the room just dropped by twenty degrees. Jun's arms crawled with gooseflesh and he felt vaguely nauseated and had to sit down, his head in his hands. Hands that were still smeared with the Kaburagi boy's blood, he realized. That was when his eyes fell on the duffle bag by the kitchen table. What the hell-? Was the kid going to run away? The crime scene investigator inside of Jun's head suddenly decided that this was as good a time as any to check out for a coffee break and was no longer available. After a few moments of trying to puzzle it out, Jun gave up and made the calls. He couldn't get directly a hold of Kotetsu's mother and left the message with the factory foreman. Despite his better judgment, he called the older brother. Not surprisingly, Muramasa said he would go to the hospital once business hours were over.
It wasn't right. This wasn't a proper home life for a teenaged boy. Especially not a NEXT. There was another number on the wall and Jun decided to call it out of desperation. Not surprisingly, he got the warmest reception of the three. It was the Lopez house. He should have been pissed that he was talking to the leader of the gang that had kidnapped his daughter two months ago, but when he heard the genuine concern in Antonio's deep voice he shelved the anger. This wasn't about him, it was about Kotetsu, and the kid needed to know that somebody gave a damn about him.
Just as Jun was preparing to leave the house, he went to the answering machine and deleted the messages his daughter had left. After that, he went back into the bathroom. He gathered the package of razors and the blade from the floor and wrapped them in a handkerchief and put them in his coat pocket. He wasn't quite sure why. If police got called to investigate, this could become complicated. He only knew that he didn't want the damning items to be found by anyone else. It seemed very important.
He went to the hospital to check up on the boy, just to be sure that he was going to be telling his daughter good news. Kotetsu was still in emergency. A curtain was pulled around his bed and he was being treated by a doctor. Jun waited across the hall but from the sound of things, Kotetsu was more aware of his surroundings than he had been at the house.
"-now you're going to feel a slight pinch-" the doctor was saying.
"I know. I've gotten stitches before and -Ouch!"
"Warned you."
"Jeez! That felt like you poked my brain!"
"If you don't keep still, I just might."
Jun relaxed a little. The quarrelsome exchange sounded like the kid was almost back to normal. It was a welcome thing to hear. Less than fifteen minutes later, the doctor stepped out from around the curtain and noticed Jun. "Are you his father?"
He shook his head. "Father of a friend of his. I was at the house when the paramedics were there. How is he?"
"He was disoriented when he arrived but he seems to be better now. I'm recommending he stay overnight for observation. Five stitches in his scalp, four in his right hand." He regarded Jun for a few seconds and then said in a low voice, "The paramedics are calling it a suicide attempt . . .?"
Jun shook his head again. "He broke a window in his room and cut his hands on the glass. Fell in the bathroom. He's kind of a klutz."
The doctor brightened with the news. He leaned in closer to Jun and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's actually a relief. I hate using the padded restraints on the young ones. It just seems to make things worse, in my opinion. But procedures are procedures. If you say he's all right-?"
"He's fine."
"Good, I can't really spare the resources on a suicide watch. Have his parents been notified?"
"Yes, I'm sure . . . someone will be here soon."
That appeared to satisfy the physician. He patted Jun on the shoulder and continued on his rounds. Jun breathed a sigh of relief and went to check on Kotetsu. He found the kid fiddling with the controls to his bed and making the head part rise so he could sit up. His bloody shirt had been replaced with a hospital gown. He took one look at Jun and it was probably a good thing that he wasn't connected to a heart monitor because it probably would have exploded. "Muh-Mr. Amamiya-!"
"How are you feeling, Kotetsu?"
"I . . . Well, okay I guess. My head hurts."
"Do you remember me at the house when the paramedics were there?" The kid looked completely baffled by the question and Jun rephrased it, asking instead, "What do you remember after you broke the window?"
Kotetsu looked down at his bandaged right hand. "I tried to cover it up and cut myself. I went into the bathroom and I-I-" He looked down at the dressing on his left wrist. "I . . . oh . . . oh crap. I . . ." he looked up and saw Jun holding the bloody package of razor blades. "Oh crap," Kotetsu said again, his voice a strangled whisper. His face, already pale, now turned as white as a sheet.
"I need to make sense of this," Jun said firmly. "You're a friend of my daughter and she cares about you, but I can't let you put her through this again. Was this just a fluke? Something you did because you hit your head? Or have you considered taking your life before?"
"Yes. I mean, no! I mean-" Kotetsu struggled with his words for a few seconds and blurted out, "I don't know why I did it! I never thought about it before. Honest! It was just . . . tonight . . ." Anguished tears formed in his eyes and he blinked them back with effort. "It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I can't explain why!"
"I saw what you did to your room. I saw the duffle bag. Were you planning on running away?"
"Actually, I ran away first. I got as far as the freeway, got spooked, and ran back home. And I didn't thrash my room. Not on purpose. I had my bookcase up against the door and- Oh, never mind. What's the sense talking to you? You're one of them."
"One of who?" Jun asked, a little miffed that the kid actually had the gall to sass him.
"You're a NEXT hater. All of you are. Father, brother, teacher, student, parent, cop- It doesn't matter! It's everywhere I go!"
"I'm trying to help you!" Jun hissed, holding up the razors again. "I removed these from your house because I didn't want your mother or brother to find them. I told the doctor that you cut both hands on your window. He was prepared to strap you down like a crazy person. Would I do all that if I didn't like you? Think!"
Kotetsu dropped his eyes, and the attitude. He stared submissively down at the bed and finally muttered, "I'm sorry, Mr. Amamiya. Thank you."
"I want to be able to tell Tomoe that you're going to be okay. Are you going to be okay, Kotetsu?"
The kid rubbed his neck and looked away, thinking over his answer.
"Kotetsu!"
"I'm not okay!" the teen shouted back. "I promise I won't go and do anything stupid like-like this again," he waved his left wrist in the air. "But it doesn't change anything. I'm a NEXT, Mr. Amamiya, and things are different for me. They're harder. People are mean. I'm not okay with any of it!"
"¿Qué onda? Why's my friend yelling?" shouted a voice down the hall. "Kotetsu? ¿Dónde estás?"
"Sir! You're going to have to be quiet!" one of the nurses snapped.
". . . Tony?" Kotetsu looked shocked that his friend was here and the anger on his face immediately faded and turned to clear relief. "¡Estoy aquí!" he yelled, grimacing and holding his head. He stared at Jun soberly. "Please thank Tomoe for me. She saved my life tonight."
"From what I hear, you did the same two months earlier," Jun sighed. "I want you to be all right, Kotetsu. Do you believe me when I say that?"
The youth blinked at him. "I- Yes sir."
"You're not alone in this. Please, just remember that." He squeezed the boy's shoulder and fixed him with a hard stare, commanding his full attention. "You are not alone."
Kotetsu looked up at him, a staggering amount of emotion in his strange, amber-colored eyes. Before he could manage any kind of a response, the curtain was flung aside and a huge mountain of a man was standing at the foot of the bed. Jun craned his neck up, unable to believe that this hairy Hispanic was Kotetsu's friend and the same age, no less. This brute looked like he was in his twenties.
Antonio lumbered in and hugged his friend hard enough to crack something in his back and then pushed him back at arm's length to look at him. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Oh man, you wouldn't believe it."
Tony pulled up a chair and crammed his bulk down into it. "Let 'er rip, buddy. I'm all ears."
There was still no sign of Kotetsu's mom or brother but Jun thought the teen was in the best company right now and chose that moment to take his leave, offering the kid a wave. On his way out, Jun casually discarded the bundle of razor blades into the nearest garbage can, content that they weren't going to be needed ever again.
The weekend passed by without incident. Kotetsu spent most of it in his room either resting or practising the guitar and his mother and Muramasa let him do that undisturbed, perhaps trying to figure out exactly what had happened on that strange Friday night. For reasons best kept to himself, the teen claimed to have no memory of the events following his collision with the tub and he stuck to that story with dogged stubbornness.
By Monday morning, Muramasa's Volkswagen pulled into a parking spot across the street from the Victor Province High School and Kotetsu got out along with his mother, who was in one of her best dresses. It came as a shock to the teen when Muramasa joined them.
"You're coming, too?" Kotetsu said uneasily.
"This involves the entire family," the twenty-seven year old remarked, staring at his younger sibling with a face that was free of its usual impatience or irritation. His older brother looked almost friendly. By the time he had finally showed up at the hospital, Kotetsu had long been asleep. Antonio hadn't been. He and Muramasa had argued out in the parking lot, perhaps done even more if the bruised knuckles on Muramasa's hands were any indication. Whatever the case, the older sibling went to the house and cleaned up, and he was amazingly thorough. For some strange reason he even straightened up Kotetsu's room, rearranging the furniture and replacing the books and covering the broken window. He even packed away the clothes that had been in Kotetsu's duffle bag. As things turned out, the foreman at the Kompeitō factory never bothered to pass along Jun's message to Anju, and she returned home at the end of her shift completely unaware anything had happened. Muramasa was there to meet her, and if he ever mentioned anything to her about Kotetsu's room, the packed bag, or the disturbing amount of blood at the bathroom sink, Anju never betrayed any hint of that knowledge to her youngest boy.
The trio stood on the sidewalk in awkward silence before Kotetsu said, "Uh, are we going in or not? 'Cause I'm gonna lose my nerve the longer we-"
"Patience," Anju snapped. "I'm waiting for someone."
Holy crap, she hired a lawyer, the teen was thinking. Or, even worse, one of the local network news team was going to show up in a van. What he eventually saw pulling up to the curb was almost as bad. It was Antonio's mother's car. Freda Lopez was driving, Antonio was sulking in the passenger seat and it looked like the whole damned family was crammed into the car along with them.
"Ma! What've you done?" Kotetsu asked in a choked voice as he watched the entire Hispanic family climb out of the car like some amazing circus act. It even looked like they had included Pablo, the family cat, in the journey.
"I had the opportunity to talk to Freda the other day. We both came to the agreement that education should be enjoyed by everyone," Anju said with a rare smile on her face. "Especially children who are NEXTs."
Antonio was squeezed into a school uniform that was at least one size too small and it looked like he couldn't figure out how to knot his tie. It was a jumbled mess around his neck. He stormed over to Kotetsu, carrying a backpack that still had the sales tag dangling from it, and poked him hard in the chest. "I'm never gonna forgive you for this!" he snarled.
"Hey! I don't even know what's going on!"
"Ever since you stayed at my house Thursday, my mom's been nagging at me about that GED conversation we had. Since I can't write the test until I'm nineteen, she said I had two choices: Go get a job or go to school and get the real thing. Thanks a lot, baboso!"
"You're going to my school now?" Kotetsu could hardly believe his sudden good fortune (even if it came at poor Tony's expense. The lazy teen had quite enjoyed his 'retirement' from gang life by spending his days with his ass on the family couch playing video games like Duke Nukem and Chomp).
"Not yet. But I don't think the outcome's gonna be in doubt once we all dive bomb the front office, do you?" Tony nodded to where the eight adults had gathered, each one already trying to talk above the other and they weren't even upset yet.
"Is everybody ready?" called a masculine voice and head's turned and saw Jun Amamiya join them with Tomoe by his side. He was wearing his formal three piece business suit, looking more like a lawyer than an accountant, and his presence added a much-needed degree of respectability to their cause: To get NEXTs some proper civil rights in this school, starting with Kotetsu and Antonio.
Tomoe immediately walked over to where the two boys were standing and looked at Kotetsu with concern. "How do you feel?"
He pulled his heavy bangs back and showed her the small row of stitches on his forehead, just below the hairline. There was still a colorful bruise there. "I hardly feel it. Sometimes it pays to have a thick skull, huh?"
She didn't respond, staring first at his right hand with its healing row of stitches and then grasping his left hand. She flipped it over, exposing the pink line that ran across his wrist. It was hardly noticeable now and in another few days it would become almost invisible. She looked at it and then up at him and asked again, "How do you feel?" Her dark eyes, magnified by the lenses of her glasses, seemed to stare into his soul.
"I'm a lot better," he responded honestly, offering her a small smile. "Thank you, Tomoe."
It didn't look like she had slept much these last few days, but when she finally smiled the worry in her face disappeared. "You're welcome, Kotetsu."
Observing this syrupy moment with extreme boredom, Tony remarked sourly, "I think I liked it better when you two were fighting. It was a lot more entertaining."
"Oh, shut up," she said, blushing. She began to fix Tony's mutilated tie.
"¡Vamonos!" Antonio's mother suddenly shouted and began marching across the street with the rest of her eclectic family in tow. Kotetsu's mother and brother joined them with Jun and the three teenagers taking up the rear. They went into the school in a single unified group.
The principal and the rest of the staff never even knew what hit them.
Soon, it was a month later and another tutoring session was going on in the Amamiya kitchen. Jun was reading his paper in the living room, alternating between trying to concentrate on the articles and listening to the amusing banter drifting out from the next room.
"So, in that story I just read," Tomoe was speaking briskly. "What literary term would you say best describes that author's writing style?"
"Uh, what were my choices again?" Kotetsu asked.
"Satirical, technical, argumentative, or conversational."
"Oh . . . that first one. Satirical."
"Why?"
"Because she was, like, being really sarcastic the way she described that dinner party but it was funny in a way, too."
"That's the right answer. It also called Parodying. It really means 'to highlight a situation by seeing it objectified and criticized, often for comical value'."
"Cool."
There was a long pause and then a deeper voice spoke up. "I don't get it," Antonio rumbled dejectedly.
Jun sighed and slumped down in his chair. The tutoring sessions now included English and Tomoe now had two misfits to teach instead of just the one. The Lopez boy was succeeding in making Kotetsu look brilliant by comparison. Tony had never bothered paying attention to any his lessons right up to the moment he formally withdrew at the end of last year's term. At least, Kotetsu had tried (although he still failed). Now the Hispanic was playing a desperate game of catch-up or he could face the humiliating prospect of being placed a grade behind his two friends.
No other parent would have stood for it, Jun knew. Even his wife was upset. It was enough to give any self-respecting adult nightmares: One small girl taking on the tutoring tasks of two teenaged NEXTs; Of being left alone with two stronger-than-normal boys in a house where there was only one non-powered chaperon, and he was sitting in the next room casually reading an evening paper. Jun didn't care what anybody, including his wife, thought about the arrangement, and he was quite vocal on the topic. It surprised everyone.
Kotetsu made an interesting point in the hospital when he had mentioned how much more complicated things were for him because he was different. And he had been absolutely right. He belonged to a strange new breed of minority that hadn't even been included in Human Rights charters yet. Until there were rules and laws in effect that governed NEXTs, as well as protected them, they were going to have to stay in small, protected little groups like this one in Jun's home.
And, maybe, Jun was particularly tolerant because he wasn't all that sure that it was just Kotetsu and Antonio who were the special ones.
Maybe, just maybe, on that crazy Friday night, he had seen a brief flash of blue light in his daughter's tear-filled, terrified eyes as she screamed into the phone knowing that a friend of hers was in pain on the other end of the line.
Whatever the case, Jun wanted the certainty that so long as the three were in his house they were safe, and together and, most of all, happy. In a world filled with so much hardship, there was nothing quite like preserving the carefree optimism in a child. Preserving, protecting it, hearing it-
As if on cue, sudden laughter exploded from the kitchen; two deep rolling gales and one softer, more feminine under-current that seemed to tie it all together, like something that was meant to be.
As ever, Jun's arms broke out in gooseflesh at the sound of it.
. . . just maybe . . .
~ end.