Kouya gasped, struggling to contain the rage in his system. He had excused himself from his friends and hurried out of the building, away from the teeming crowds which had now irritated him. He caught his breath and sat on the grass at Fountain Court. As he gathered his breath, his phone rang.
"Hello?" Kouya answered. "Timothy?" He didn't remember giving his number to him, but perhaps Gaku had given him the number.
"Kouya, did you see that horrible video…"
With frustration seeping into his voice, he interrupted Tim and spat, "Yes, I saw a video where Shun was beaten savagely, stripped naked and had his face rammed into some guy's crotch. Does that answer your question?"
After a moment of silence, Tim muttered in a confused tone, "I didn't see that video." Kouya blinked.
"There's another video?" Kouya asked in a much softer, relaxed tone.
"Yeah."
Kouya realized something and, using the softer tone, asked, "I think I know one of the people in that video. Can you send me the link?" Kouya gave away his e-mail to Tim, and he hurried towards the library to get onto a computer and watch it. He wanted to know if that woman who grinded on Shun at hit him with her shoe was really Shavonna. Because he hated her already and this would make him call the police on her in an instant. Kouya then heard Timothy make a soft gasp, and the dog-man clenched his fists. It was clear another bad thing happened.
"Bad news, Kouya. Shun saw the video. Somebody showed it to him."
"Who the fuck would make him watch that!?" a stunned Kouya screamed.
"Some asshole showed it to him on purpose. And Melinda beat up the asshole, so she's getting suspended," Tim explained. The husky dog-man trembled, knowing that whatever video Shun-kun saw, it devastated him, and he feared it could destroy his well-being for good. And the whole episode is making his friends and family suffer. His poor father, cousin, and mother are beside themselves. Now it made his friend attack someone else and get into big trouble.
After saying goodbye and hanging up, Kouya hurried into the David Adamany Undergraduate Library and asked the clerk to check out some headphones. With the headphones he hurried into the study center's computer area and took the next available workstation. On his e-mail he discovered that Tim sent him the link to the video, which had been uploaded to Twitter by a "Justin Reefer".
And then, the dog-man's teeth bristled, and his eyes widened. He saw a group clowning around on a Downtown Detroit street in the evening, and he identified four people: Shavonna, Deewayne, Shania… and Darren "D-Man" Larson himself, hanging out with a bunch of other people Kouya didn't know. He heard Shania, who sounded like a dude, brag, "Let's steal his wallet!" just as Shun Kodori appeared in view. D-Man himself quipped, "We're gonna run his pockets, yo!" Then Shavonna, the woman in the pink panties, the woman that Kouya had grown to hate, lured the innocent wolf-boy in. He saw how the group messed with him, having Shavonna grind her fat, panties-clad bottom onto Shun's body. He growled when he saw D-Man dig into the distracted Shun's pockets and take his things. The blood vessels in the husky dog-man's eyes reddened as he heard Shun desperately plead for his things back, and how D-Man made him jump like a trained poodle. Kouya's blood boiled as he saw how happy the weasel-man looked, and how happy everyone else looked as Shun was being tormented.
And then, he heard the loud cheers and saw D-Man cock his fist… and give Shun a huge wallop to the face. The camera followed the stunned Shun as he was knocked down, and as his head hit the hard concrete with a thud. In plain sight was the utterly blindsided, bleeding face of the victim. The speechless Kouya heard the roaring laughter as the group converged on the wolf-boy.
The wide smiles, the cacophony of laughter, the gleeful tormenting, and the naked enthusiasm in their committing the vile deeds gave Kouya the reason why they did it: They did it for fun. Everything they did in both videos they did because they liked making weak, innocent people suffer.
Kouya slammed his fist on the desk after the video ended. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The saliva in his mouth frothed. His cheeks were contorted as the sheer anger and hatred flowed through his veins. The dog-man yanked the headphones from the jack and ran off, forgetting to log out. Thankfully, a PhD student in her thirties spied the unused computer and logged Kouya's account off before it could be abused by someone else.
Thankfully Tim called Kouya back after he had exited the library, and Kouya gave the deer-boy computer geek the four full names. D-Man had told him their real names during one of the times they ate at the Big Boy.
The chickens were coming home to roost.
Within the walls of a plain-looking two-story suburban home in Novi, a flurry of activity occurred in the midst of a raging emotional storm. The Japanese consul general had driven from the Consulate of Japan office, situated in the Renaissance Center complex in Downtown Detroit, to the Kodori house in order to interview Ryo about the deal. Yukie sat on the couch, with a sobbing Shun next to her, stroking his back, humming a lullaby to herself and to him. Iwao and Ten sat at the dining room table, while Gaku served them bento boxes from One World Market and some barley tea.
"We're going to put out an alert to all Japanese citizens in the area about the beating," the Consul General explained.
"Thank you, Consul General," said Ryo, before they took mutual bows. Shortly after the official of the Japanese government left the house and headed back towards Downtown, the phone gave a monotonous ring. Ryo hurried over to the telephone and put it to his ear.
"Moshi-moshi," he greeted, using Japanese. "So you are with the Detroit Free Press?" he then said in his accented English. "You want to interview me?"
"It won't be the last call," Gaku sighed in Japanese as he listened to Ryo. "That video's going viral over the internet."
Yukie's face looked ashen, since the jet lag and the recent troubles were having its toll on her. Her own son was now asleep on the couch, finally quiet after the hours of wailing and howling in emotional pain. As she sat on the couch, the wolf-woman imagined herself with her son as a small boy in her lap, a pleasant memory that could anesthetize her from the pain. She rested her head on the back of the couch, also falling into the abyss of a long rest.
After the phone interview newspaper ended and Ryo's attention was available, Iwao cried in his shrill, elderly voice, "I wanted to be able to talk to them!"
"Wanted to?" Gaku asked.
"I had to depend on that woman and my own son to know what was happening!" Iwao cried.
"That's because they speak English," Gaku deadpanned as he crossed his arms.
"Why should I be out of the loop of things?" Iwao yelled.
"Immigrants who came to America face this problem every day. The kids know English and the parents don't, so the parents lose power and the kids gain power."
"But I don't want to be here! I want to be in Japan!" Iwao sullenly moaned.
"You'll get to go back in a few weeks. There are people here who will never come back to where they came from no matter how much they want to go back." Iwao grunted in frustration and folded his arms. "Are you tired, Iwao-sama?" Gaku asked. "I can make the bed for you." The elderly wolf-man grunted and turned his head away.
Ryo offered, "I can do it for you. Or you can take the master bedroom. Do you want to use the master bedroom? Then Yukie and I can have one upstairs bedroom and Ten can sleep on a futon." Iwao grumbled, but Ryo offered, "It's the most comfortable bed, Dad. You'll like it."
"Fine, I'll take it," Iwao accepted.
Ryo asked, "Ten-san, do you want to have your futon in Shun's room?"
"I want to be where Iwao-sama is," Ten answered. "Please let me sleep outside of Iwao-sama's room."
"Are you sure?" Ryo asked, but Ten insisted on being outside of Iwao-sama's room.
"And if you want, I can make up your bed upstairs," Ten offered. Ryo said yes, so for a moment Ten went upstairs to make the bed for his hosts. He dutifully came back downstairs and sat at the table, reading his book, as a conversation unfolded.
"Uncle Ryo, have you decided to go back for the day?" Gaku asked.
"I don't want to go back to the office today. I'll let Nakagawa-kun handle things," Ryo sighed, referring to the second in command at the office.
"If it's alright, I don't want to either," Gaku sighed. The two-wolf folk began to do some cleaning of the kitchen, but they noticed a restless swish of Ten's tail.
"Ten, do you want to practice judo today?" Ryo offered.
"Where may I practice, Ryo-sama?" Ten asked. His tail swished even more.
"Gaku has a YMCA membership. He can let you in as a guest." Ryo offered as he got out his iPhone. "Oh, what do you know, there is a judo class coming up soon."
The YMCA was a modest one story building filled with weight machines, a group exercise room, a pool, a track, and a basketball court. Gaku got the staff to let Ten in as a guest, using his own card to get Ten through. Gaku said goodbye and headed back home to be with his family. The giant wolf-man carried a blue duffel bag with his judogi, or his judo clothes, inside, and with a key he got from the front desk, he headed straight for the men's locker room.
The first things he heard were the conversations of nude elderly men undressing and about to shower. Naked old men chatting with each other are staples of YMCA locker rooms across the country. Those men grew up in a time with less privacy and fewer inhibitions about being nude with those of the same sex. Showers in gym classes were required in their time, and they often shared bedrooms with siblings of the same sex. Younger men, who preferred to change without saying a word, wear towels around themselves when they have no underwear on, and get the hell out as soon as possible, saw them as a strange kind of animal.
Ten Kodori used his key to open one of the lockers. He proceeded to undress, removing his shoes, then his polo shirt, and then his khaki shorts.
One of the nude old men, giddy from laughter, turned around and yelled, "What in the tarnation is that?" as he lost his smile. Ten Kodori wore a yellow fundoshi instead of the western-style underwear that most Japanese wear. Some of those old men felt a little jealous, since the young Ten had an exceptionally muscular, graceful body. It must have reminded them of their own distant youth. The giant wolf-man didn't understand the question that the old man had blurted out, so he slowly changed into his gi, shut the locker, and took the duffel bag into the group exercise room, all without saying a word.
The exercise room, which had a polished wooden floor and Christian scripture quotes on the walls, housed many men and women in gi, almost all Americans. Several judo mats had been laid out. A woman in her fifties with curly gray hair approached the new unfamiliar face.
"Well, we have somebody new today! My name is Cheryl. What is your name?" Ten looked at her, utterly lost and confused. Slowly, she greeted, "My naa-me is She-rill. Wha-at is … your name?"
"My name… Kodori Ten. I am Japaniizu," Ten responded, his words as slow as molasses, before he bowed to her.
"Are you a-ble to fol-low a-long?" Cheryl slowly asked. Unlike many people far smaller than Ten, Cheryl didn't seem fazed by his large size or the gruff demeanor.
"Hai-ye-yes, I can fo-fo-follow," Ten answered uneasily. Cheryl smiled, not believing him, but allowing him to join the class anyway. His tail went from side to side intermittently. It was strange to be in a judo class not taught by a Japanese person, but this is America…
Trying to speak slow, but not too slow, Cheryl announced "We will do some practice rounds. Two people will match and one will referee, okay?" As the familiars got into their positions, Cheryl, with her rosy, wrinkly cheeks pushed up by her smile, approached Ten.
She slowly asked, "Kodori, do you do a lot of judo?"
"Yes I do judo a lot," Ten answered.
Again using slowness, she explained, "I will put you with John Nasser. He has experience with judo, and he would be proud to have you as an opponent. He's the best person we have here."
"So your name is Kodori," Coach Nasser asked as he approached Ten. His voice seemed naturally slow.
"Yes," Ten responded.
"Call me John. Pleasure to meet you," he greeted as they did mutual bows.
"Prezzure to meet you, John," Ten repeated in his accent.
"You are.. a Japanese, right? Do you know a … a Shoon?"
"Shun?" Ten asked, tail swishing.
Speaking slowly, the coach explained, "I have a Shoon, a Shoon Kodori in my P.E. class. He had to leave school today unfortunately because of a problem."
"I am of family of Shun-sama," Ten announced with boldness. "I come here because of problem."
"Shoon-sama? Interesting name for him," Coach Nasser. "What is the –sama for?"
"Shun-sama is sama because I service him," Ten said, without a sense of how wrong that sounded. But Coach Nasser knew that he didn't speak English natively, so he could be excused. After all, the coach's parents' native language was Arabic and they came from Egypt.
The P.E. Coach and the Japanese judo aficionado did a bow to start their match, as Cheryl served as the referee. Once she raised her arms, Ten Kodori made the first move, aggressively grappling with the Egyptian coach. The middle-aged man grunted, with his mustache twitching, as he faced the power of the bigger Kodori. While Ten Kodori couldn't communicate in words, he could with his body. A throw came, and Coach Nasser was felled. Cheryl announced that Kodori had a point. Coach Nasser got up, with a determined air, and went for round two. The wolf-man's impression of the Egyptian coach is that he wasn't bad at all. It was actually a fun fight. But the coach didn't have all of his techniques down right, and so this time, by a much closer margin, Ten overcame his opponent, flipping him down again. Cheryl gave the count for round three, as Coach Nasser was determined to at least get a point.
Ten Kodori told the coach he would handicap himself, and only use certain kata. Coach Nasser had the upper hand at first, and Ten used great difficulty with his limited techniques. However he was able to get the coach on the ground on the third time.
"WHOA!" one of the observers cried. "That guy's good!"
"Kodori really won that one," Cheryl gasped. "He got a half point, though." Coach Nasser gave Ten a respectful bow when the match ended.
In the locker room, Ten undressed completely and took a shower in the shower room. As Ten showered, with the steam rising around him, some of the naked old men were staring at him, not out of lust-for they were straight-but out of awe, admiring his graceful strength.
Ten thought this was interesting, but he needed more of a challenge.
While Ten was busy at the YMCA, Iwao had gotten up from his nap and was nudging the sleeping Yukie on the couch.
"Yukie! Yukie!" he cried. Now at peace, the wolf-woman had a wide, peaceful smile on her lips. Her own ahoge was limp, as if it was sleeping. If things were more cartoony, a snot bubble would pop from her nose. Her sleeping noises were light and soft, like her son's. Ryo always talked about how she looked so cute and cherubic and how sweet she was. "YUKIE!" Iwao screamed.
"Ehh.. Iwao-sama?" the wolf-woman asked, snapped out of her slumber. "I'm really tired."
"Why are you tired at this time?" he barked.
"You slept on the flight, but I didn't…" Yukie muttered before yawning. "Ryo said it was 'jet lag' that does this."
"I'm hungry." Yukie blinked. He seemed to be in a very foul mood.
She announced with a smile, "I'll make some nattō, then!" She excitedly waltzed to the kitchen, only for her to freeze in place and stop. "Ahhh! Do we have that here?" she panicked. Her own ahoge seemed to spring to life. "We're in America, aren't we?!" Her eyes looked like they were in circles.
A monotone voice called, "We have a nattō maker and the ingredients. After all, we have a Japanese grocery in town." It was Gaku-san, coming from downstairs.
"I didn't know that, Gaku-san!" a cheery, now relieved Yukie called out. The ethnic groceries around the area-Japanese, Arab, Mexican, Chinese, Korean, or Bangladeshi-allow families from other countries to enjoy tastes of home whenever they pleased.
As she was using the machine to make the meal, the distinct smell of fermented soybeans trailed over to her exhausted, sleeping son. The pungent smell caused his nose to twitch, and his eyelids opened.
"Mommy…"
"Shun, what is it?" she asked.
"You are making Japanese food, aren't you?"
"Yes, honey, I am."
"I'm missing it. I just… I just want it," he moaned, still lying on the couch. The emotional pain was welling inside of Shun.
"Do you want to go back to Japan, Shun?" Shun went silent for a moment. "Shun?" she called.
"I don't know, Mommy." It was tempting to try to leave it all behind and go back to Japan. He had a bit of a homesickness. At first it felt funny waking up and realizing he was in America, but after a while he got used to being in the United States. Perhaps the beating incident aggravated this, but America didn't seem as exciting and new as it once was. The novelty had given way to banality, and now to humiliation and horror. Perhaps going back home would seem like something new. He could rediscover everything he had left behind.
But if he left America, then he would throw away everything, his progress, his new friendships, his chances of becoming fully fluent in English and comfortable around foreigners. Then his eyes widened when he thought about Kouya-san. He would likely never see him for a long time. That thought was chilling. That was the biggest thing keeping him from asking her to take him back to Japan.
"You can just go back to Japan and such things will never happen to you again," Iwao scoffed. Shun's head sank into the couch's cushion in resignation. Yukie didn't put up a resistance to Iwao's speech this time. It sounded so nice to have her son in a place where he would always be safe. At that time, Ryo emerged from the Master Bedroom, where he had been making a cell phone conversation.
"Yukie, the Mayor wants to talk to us tomorrow. He wants us to show up at the Detroit city hall."
"City hall? Why is the mayor giving us an audience?" Yukie asked.
"I was with him at that party…" Ryo didn't even want to say what day it was. It went from being the best day of his life to the worst in an instant.
"Why aren't they asking me?" Iwao muttered gruffly.
"Dad, they assume that it's mainly the father and the mother who is responsible."
"I heard they put old people in homes and forget about them in America," Iwao cried. "What have they come to here? Do they not respect family here?" Ryo, hands behind his back, looked away from Iwao-sama in shame. He knew some Americans and understood why they put their relatives in senior citizens homes. But he heard about how abuses and neglect had happened in some of them. Hearing about bedsores, starvation, and sexual abuse in some places made Ryo feel very very ill. Iwao-sama had a point there. "You wouldn't do that to me, would you, Ryo?" Those words were laced with Iwao's fear of losing his power, being abandoned, being neglected and abused by unsavory people.
"That's why Yukie stayed behind," Ryo said. "She's there for you. We all are here for you, Dad." Ryo was the only person in the Kodori family allowed to address Iwao-sama as "Dad". Ryo had brought honor to his family by gaining such an important position at Nissan. Iwao Kodori was more relaxed with his son Ryo than with other members of the Kodori family, partly because he was his son, and partly because Ryo was so successful at his work. That's why Iwao let Ryo take Shun to the United States.
"What are you going to do about Shun? Are you sending him back?" Iwao asked. That question caused Shun to grimace. Ryo put his hand to his chin and pondered the matter.
"We'll wait a few days," he concluded. "We'll see what Shun thinks."
"See what Shun thinks? It shouldn't be his choice, Ryo," Iwao spat.
It was a full house. The Kodori family, after having been divided for two months, was together in the same city, almost entirely under the same roof. Gaku still had that townhouse to himself, though.