Paragraph One: I used to think that bullying was kind of an outside-thing…I never thought of it as coming from someone you admired.
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Junpei watched the sun go through its slow course. The brilliant sky provided a sharp counterpoint to the muted colors of the dusty lot he was standing in. In another moment he would go retrieve his ball so he could keep practicing. In another moment.
Right now he knocked his bat against the back of one of his shoes and frowned thoughtfully. Something in him hadn't felt right for awhile now. For the most part he had gone through his days in a thoughtless sort of contentment, a feeling that had been invisible to him until it suddenly went away. But now as he watched the cars drive by on the other side of the chain-link fence he was aware that he ached. He tried to remember when the feeling had started.
A white flash, and then red, streaked across his memory. His chin lifted. So…maybe it had been the fight. As he stirred himself and walked over to the ball he replayed it in his mind. Recently, his friend Kouza had managed to drag him to a boxing match. Junpei had never felt very interested in that kind of thing except maybe if it was two girls mud-wrestling or something. But the match hadn't been anything like he expected it to be, and he had ended up being riveted.
That in itself was fine. What wasn't fine was the feeling he had gotten afterwards. He guessed it was from watching the boy who had won. In the hot, crowded gym he was the one guy who had looked cool, even with all the sweat running off him as he boxed. He hadn't smiled when he had won. While Junpei was watching him, he wasn't conscious of the sounds in the gym or even of Kouza next to him. After the match ended and the winner left the ring, it was like someone suddenly switched the volume on again. Junpei had stood there for a moment, stunned and adjusting, as Kouza spoke to him.
"Did you see that?! That was amazing!"
His friend's voice was high-pitched with admiration. Junpei unconsciously reacted to it by trying to sound nonchalant. "It was okay."
Kouza was indignant. "'Okay?' You sure as hell couldn't do it!"
And of course, Junpei didn't have a good answer to that. He couldn't do it. And that, he thought as he dusted off his baseball, was the problem. He had seen that boy and wanted to be like him. And it wasn't the same as wanting to be like some guy on TV. It was a thousand times worse because it was a lot closer but not any more attainable for all that. This feeling had come on sharply and overwhelmingly as he had watched that match, and even now it was still eating into him like slow poison.
He swung and missed. The ball rolled to a stop a little way in front of his feet, confronting him. It felt like a prophecy. Some people got it and some people don't, the ball was saying. And I think we both know which one you are, don't we, buddy?
Junpei kicked it. Then he sighed and went to collect it again. He thought about practicing more, but it was getting late. He stuffed the ball into his coat pocket and turned his steps toward home.