Prologue: Living Is Not Breathing


- SECTION II -
Who can judge another on how he ought to live?


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.

But every now and again my thoughts drift to a girl with a red scarf and I turn annoyed. It's honestly baffling. 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 we did know each other, from some other lifetime I've forgotten. Perhaps she is just that carefree a person, to be able to present herself so informally to a stranger. 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, "Kanzaki!"

I remember that voice, I remember Kana Kohaku, and I remember her requests for me to help her study for the quiz next week. 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 told 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," I cut in.

However, she bites back, "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 driver by the end of it all!" she cries out.

"You chose to help me out. I never asked for your help, and even insisted you leave me alone," I say, my eyes narrowing at her.

The world is cruel. The world is unkind. If you cannot live with that, you cannot live in general. Pain and suffering is inevitable, but if you allow that pain to dictate your whole life then what use are you to anyone? Might as well just up and leave everything and everyone behind.

But at my cruelty and unkindness, she does not scold me. She does not begin ranting and raving at me, she does not make demands. All that happens is her shoulders lower and she looks utterly deflated. "Is there nothing I can say to get you to help me?"

And at this, I am moved somewhat. Expected her to be angry with me, expected her to lash out and call me the names I knowand have heard people call me behind my back. A bookworm, a privileged fool, a money-grubbing hound who only seeks to further his own goal in life without compunction. They would not be wrong.

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 run a business. But at the moment I just don't...feel right.

It gets to the point where 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, even in the face of the hazy grey winter season.

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. It is at this point I finally notice that 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. But the 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. Not like students are prohibited from heading up there, after all. "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 and get myself prepared for what I know will not be just any ordinary school day.


Class is spent not vigorously taking down notes like some mad genius, but instead pondering about a certain someone with a red scarf.

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. But rumors are rumors and they don't matter at the moment.

Words about her 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 nobody's seen her actually do it. People say she lives in luxury with her parents in some rich condo, but nobody's actually made an effort to go visit her.

And I don't understand it at all.

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 the students they are. Work and work and work. I know everyone can do it because I've done it, and I'm basically nothing.

I don't like dealing with people. They're nice to you when you're nice to them. They're cruel to you when you're cruel to them. And between those two constants are different degrees of apathy. Even if I am to agree to help them out, they will cast me aside when they're done with me; and then probably just ask me for help again when they'd need me a second time. Because that is how they are.

People are not good nor evil; they are animals. Animals do as they please with what their surroundings give to them, acting upon their instincts and desires. If something threatens them or their territory, they fight. If something expresses good will towards them, chances of fighting just grow slimmer. But the chance is always there.

I don't like taking chances. I don't like relying on abstract things like hope or luck to ensure my success in life. And I certainly don't like relying on others to help me through it, either.

You may say these are the foolish rantings of a privileged young man who knows nothing about the suffering of the lower/middle class, and you may bring up the fact that I'm the heir to a multi-millionaire corporation. But I'm not wrong. Riches, even inherited ones, can be squandered easily. You can live your entire life with success after success, but one measly failure can bring you down in a second. Kings can become janitors, monsters can be pardoned for their crimes, and good men can die for no reason at all.

As I've said, nature is chaotic.

All you can do in this world is survive as best you can and live out your life. Allow others to do what they want, so long as no harm comes to you. How could that be flawed? The world of man is a world of perspectives. Different people have different views on right and wrong, justice and injustice, pain and pleasure. Who can judge another on how he ought to live? What right do you have to demand something of others, even after they decline to serve you?

I've made the decision long ago to follow the path my father has set for me. Becoming the head of the Kanzaki Corporation will basically set me for life, and it will lessen any fuss if I have good credentials. With my grades and my study habits, I'll surely get myself into a good university and lead the company to further successes. I can't allow for any distractions from anything or anyone.

She's a distraction. So why did I relent?

Why have I agreed to help her? 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 perhaps she can help me as well, in her own way.

I find myself recalling Yoshida's words. Statements about how no man is an island, how life is fleeting and I should have people to accompany me through its fleetingness. While I dislike people, to be perfectly realistic, I will have to work with them when the time comes. There is some truth to Yoshida's statements, and there are benefits to interacting with others, especially to those who are fated to run whole companies when they come of age.

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. But as we walk in our awkwardness there is something in the cold air that makes me feel a little warm and for some reason I begin to wonder just what she could want besides a scholarship that would make her so jumpy and so desperate so as to ask someone as socially inept as I for help in her studies.

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.

So I say, "Should that matter, in this particular case?"

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 and I remember talks of scholarships.

"What did you mean when you said you wanted more than a scholarship?" I ask her.

"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 as all I can find in myself to say is, "Lofty goal. But...specifically, Tokyo U?"

"Truthfully, 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 as her true motives dawn upon me. "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 in this regard?"

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, Akira Kanzaki. 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."

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?" I ask.

"Fifteen," she corrects. "Was held back for a year when I got her...," she gets up from off the ground. "My parents, thank God, were willing to take care of her with me after her dad jumped ship. But they can't do all the work forever. I need to pick up the pace."

"And...nobody in the school knows this?" I ask her.

She crosses her arms as she states, "Principal knows. Parents 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. I'm not a monster. But 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. Luckily, anything they spread about my kid on the web is drowned by all the other rumors they spewed about me. I'm pretty much a prostitute now, according to what they say. "

"I see. So this guy..."

"Seemed nice," she interrupts. "Seemed. Moment I had our kid, I never heard from him again. Never even 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 reply, smirking a bit. I then decide to 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 say. "I really don't."

"I could be lying. For all you know, my kid doesn't even exist," she mutters. "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.

This time, I see the whole universe in her closed eyes and open mouth, I hear music from her voice that sounds as though Mozart had come back to life a million times over, I hear stars collide and for a single second the grey world turns into a white canvas that's been splattered with too many colors, too many shades of paint splattering all over everything and anything.

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."