Chapter Five – Skin On Skin

(All characters except Suki © Katsuhiro Otomo.)

The next morning was even hotter, and the air lay flat and heavy like the smell of rot. 

            Kai awoke, and stared at the ceiling.  His eyes were sore and the skin around them was tender.  He'd been crying too much.  When was the last time he'd actually sobbed like that?  Ages ago, must be, because he couldn't remember it.

            He should really get up.

            Why?  So what if he missed school?  No one would miss him.

            At the thought of what had happened yesterday, he groaned, and curled up, pulling the sheet back over his head.  No.  He'd lost his friends, his boyfriend and his self-esteem all in one day.  He'd wrecked his life.  He may as well accept the majority vote and lie down for a bit.

            Not that it was very comfortable here.  He was too hot, the room was stuffy and smelt of mould, and he'd gone to sleep in his clothes last night, which had been a mistake.  They were crumpled, it felt like he was wearing cardboard, and his tie was knotted and half-choking him.

            If he had his bike, he'd go ride.  Drown out his problems in the roar of the engine.  But no.  He was wheel-less, and so marooned here.  He didn't want to stay curled up, thinking of how dumb he'd been and how everyone hated him and how there was nothing he could do.  But there didn't seem to be another option.

            You betrayed me and I betrayed you.

            Sure, what he'd done was worse.  But Yamagata could've…could've at least admitted it.  At least let the others see that there was a reason for what had happened, that he, Kai, wasn't just a ruthless psychopath who attacked other people's bikes for the fun of it. 

            "But nooo," he muttered to the wall.  "Can't possibly let the others know that Yamagata The Great isn't perhaps as much of a man as they think.  Kai's evil – fine, cool.  Yamagata's gay – no, this can't be happening!  Oh, man…"

            He sighed.  There were more tears lurking at the back of his throat, but he wouldn't let them out.  He had cried enough in the past twenty-four hours, and that was final.  He was not wasting any more tears on Yamagata, who didn't need them and didn't care anyway. 

            In fact, why was he wasting his life for that guy anyway?  Why bother?  Just because one person was mad with him (well, all right, slightly more than one, more like two or three, but anyway) was no reason to hide.  And he couldn't hide for the rest of his life.  And this room was starting to drive him insane.

            He leapt out of bed, feet hitting the floor with a crash.  A quick wash and tie-retying later, he was ready, walking down the street, and trying not to notice the absence of friends. 

            He was glad he was setting off late, anyway.  Otherwise the lack of people coming to meet him would have been really obvious.

***

He got to school just as Mr Tamura's class was starting, which meant he was one of the first into the room.  Going to sit in his usual place, he rested his head on the cool desk, and hoped the maths would numb his brain.

            Twenty-five minutes into the lesson, he saw Kaneda stroll into the classroom, glance up at his usual space, and stop dead as he saw Kai sitting next to it.  Then there was a long pause as Kaneda considered the matter, which ended with him going to sit down because there were no other seats left, but in a brooding, contemptuous manner.

            "I'm surprised you showed up today," he said to Kai.  "Would've thought you'd be a little less confident about showing your face."

            "Hey, you don't own the school, Kaneda.  I'm still allowed to go to it."

            "Yeah, well, whatever.  Come anywhere near my bike and you'll die horribly."

            "I don't care about your stupid bike," Kai snapped. 

            Kaneda shrugged, and started scratching at some old graffiti on the desk with the nib of his pen. 

            "What was all that stuff about seven days?" he asked a few moments later.  "That you said to Yamagata before you left."

            "He didn't tell you?"

            "Nope.  Won't tell us anything.  Don't think he's here today, actually."  Kai wasn't sure whether he was happy about that or not.  On the one hand, he wasn't going to get to see the guy.  On the other, he wouldn't have to take more rejection from him.  Hmm.  Joy levels could go either way.

            "So?" Kaneda said at last.  "What's the big secret?"

            "Secret?"

            "What's going on between you two?"

            Kai chewed his lip.  To confess it now – Yamagata wouldn't back it up, would he?  Just laugh and shout fag with the rest of them.  No proof.  If he was going to tell Kaneda – tell everyone – he wanted proof, he wanted something that showed the fling…or whatever it was…had been real.

            "Ask him," he said.  "I don't know."

            "So you did just try and kill him for no reason, then."

            "I didn't try and kill him!"

            "Well, what else do you sabotage someone's bike for?" Kaneda hissed.  "To give them a bit of excitement in their lives?"

            "Oh, shut up."

            "Hey, I thought you were a friend.  And friends don't do that to people."

            "Thank you, Mr Guidance Counsellor.  Got any other bits of kindergarten philosophy you want to share with me?"

            "Kai, you are being a jerk."  Kaneda turned to face him.  "You're a good rider and all, but I don't want you in the gang if you're gonna do that every time someone calls you Shorty or whatever the hell Yamagata did.  So if you got a good reason about why you did it, start talking, otherwise, you're out."

            "You wouldn't believe me if I told you.  Yamagata'll deny it."  Kai rocked back on his chair, trying to act calm, trying to act like he didn't care about any of this, about the scorn in Kaneda's face, about the friendships being snatched away from him.  "And then I'll just look like a liar as well as a murderer or whatever you're calling me."

            "Fine," Kaneda snapped.  "You're out, then.  See you around."    

            Kai tried to ignore the tight, cold feeling in his throat. 

            I don't care.  I don't care about any of them.

            Liar.

            "Whatever," he said, and turned away.

            So that was it, then.  There were no more people in his life.  There really weren't.

            He didn't care.          

            Well, all right, he did care, but not that much.  It didn't matter, anyway.  He could handle life perfectly well on his own.  Always had done.

            Nobody ever wants me…not mum and dad…not the guys…and not…

            He couldn't even think the name; he knew if he did it would smash through his face and send tears everywhere again.

            When class ended he let Kaneda leave first – waited until he'd actually gone out of the classroom.  No need to have it rubbed in that he wasn't welcome.

            This feeling was familiar.  This was like falling back into his childhood, in the old children's home where no one talked to him.  They'd gone off in groups and hung around in the grass-cracked playground, leaving him on his own in the middle of it.  He'd always hated that children's home. 

            His method of coping had been to sidle up to them and just stand, watching, pretending he was involved, pretending he was just the quiet one of the group.  It hadn't been much better than being on his own, because you knew you were silently begging for them to include you and your mind hated you.  And conversation hurt when it wasn't given to you.  And sooner or later they lost their tempers and jumped on you, or threw handfuls of grass at you, so you were perpetually waiting to be shoved or kicked at. 

            But it was still better than admitting defeat.

            The sun burnt down on him, and his skin stung, and he eased his jacket down his arms to get rid of the heat.  Around him the ground blazed, and when he walked through the shadows at the sides it was like all the lights going out and it made his head ache.

            Anyway, at that children's home it had been different.  Okay, they'd not liked him – they'd hated him? – no, it was never as bad as that, they'd never picked on him exactly, they just hadn't really wanted him around.

            But it hadn't been his fault.  It had just been one of those times when your personality didn't catch light with anyone, when nobody really found you interesting. 

            Now it was his fault.

            You could have killed him.

            Kai sighed, and rubbed at a drip of sweat, heavy with dust, that was beginning to ooze down his nose.  

            Maybe he'd feel better if he had actually been trying to kill Yamagata.  At least then it would be fair.  But he hadn't been…he hadn't…he'd just got mad, and it wasn't just Yamagata, it was Suki as well…and it had just been one moment, one moment when he'd done something really stupid.  Surely it wasn't fair to treat someone bad because of one dumb moment?

            The playground was empty.  Too hot.  Most people were lurking in the shade on the other side of the building, Kai reckoned, or actually inside still.  It wasn't like there was anything better to do out here. 

            But he knew where the Capsules would be.  With their bikes in the parking lot.

            He would not use childhood tactics and hang around looking pathetic again.  Once that would have been a refusal to surrender, but now – now it would be admitting he did need them, and he didn't.  He didn't.

            Besides, Yamagata might be there, and then Kai knew his feelings would go haywire, he'd collapse inside like someone kicking over a stack of boxes.  And he didn't need that now.

            He'd stay alone, thank you very much.  Even though his head was starting to ache as the heat crushed it, even though the silence was itching him, even though part of him – a lot of him – just wanted to go find Yamagata and beg, and say he was sorry, and try, just try for forgiveness…

            Oh, please.

            He leant back against the wall, and stared up at the sky.  It was as blue as a Bunsen burner flame, and just as hot.  He thought he could hear the world crackle at the edges.

***

Yamagata wondered why he was doing this.  He wasn't sure he wanted to see Suki one bit.  He didn't want to see anyone.  No, he did – he wanted to see the world and smash its face in.

            But he didn't want to see Kai.

            So he'd avoided the guys this morning.  Stayed home, pacing the room, feeling like his rage was going to smash the walls down. 

            How could you do that to me?

            How could you?

            So damn stupid!  So damn stupid to think any of it would work.  He'd made himself look dumb, risked everything for Kai, and then the bastard had just stabbed him in the back!

            And then he wanted me to tell them…

            Yeah, right!

            "Yama," Suki said, "You're hurting my hand."

            "Huh?  Oh…"  He relaxed his grip.  The bones of her hand had been digging into his palm.

            At about ten-thirty he'd headed into school because it was either that or stay in this room and go insane.  But he hadn't got very far, because Suki had been at the gates.  Been looking out for him, she'd said, because he wasn't with the others. 

            He'd wanted to hit out and send her flat on her ass in the dust, but why bother?  He didn't have anyone else now.  There was only Suki.  And maybe if he blocked out memory a bit…blocked out memories of Kai…and, like, stuff…then everything would be okay and he'd stop feeling so much.

            So he'd agreed to go off with her.

            "Your place or mine?" she'd said, every ridge and speck of her lipstick glinting in the sun.

            He'd nearly said mine as usual, but – no.  This was to smush memory, to grind it into dust, and his room was drowning in memories of Kai, Kai lying sprawled on the bed watching him, Kai collapsing with concussion as they'd walked up the stairs, Kai standing kissing him and glancing nervously at his bike –

            And now I know why, how could you, I thought you cared, I thought you liked me…

            No way.  No way.

            So now Suki was leading him down the street back to her dorm, her fingers sweaty, with that dry, flaky feel underneath that damp hands always seemed to have.  She was more giggly than usual, and kept looking quickly at him, like a bird. 

            He didn't want to meet her eyes, so he kept looking down at their feet.  Hers were peeling and red from some old sunburn, and the ankles rolled inwards because of her stilettos.  If girls had such horrible feet, why did they want to show 'em off in those stupid shoes?

            Her dorm was slightly smarter than his – maybe girls didn't like scribbling on walls so much, or maybe they were just all too wimpy to do so.  And the corridors smelt different, perfume and soap and fruit-scented lip gloss, sugary smells that made him feel slightly sick, choked the back of his throat. 

            "We better keep it down," Suki whispered.  "The dorm mother'll chew me out if she catches us."

            "Why?"

            "Not at school…and we're not supposed to bring boys home either."  She giggled again, and he felt even more like hitting her. 

            So this is what you've come down to?  Someone for Suki to use to piss off the dorm mother? 

            Again, he kept his mouth shut.  Suki wouldn't understand if he did say anything anyway.

            Her room was covered in sharp, eye-aching sunlight, because her blind had actually broken and lay at the bottom of the floor like a suicide victim.  Yamagata squinted, made out a million perfume-nail-varnish-makeup things, little glass bottles, chrome covers, faded elegant logos, pools of coloured stickiness.  The floor was covered in magazines, girls' ones, like dead leaves, and he slipped slightly on them as he walked over to her bed, and hated them.  His feet left dust spatters over the articles, How To Find Mr Right, Why Men Don't Commit And How To Find One Who Does, Spice Up Your Love Life.

            Suki pushed the door shut, glancing nervously out into the corridor before doing so, then turned to face him, grinning so desperately her face almost snapped in two. 

            "So, uh…" 

            Geez, she didn't need to act like they were having a fucking tea party or something!  He didn't want to chat to her, he just wanted to – to drown himself in her or something, because Kai was sitting in his brain, watching, with that miserable look that was not interesting and was not making Yamagata feel guilty. 

            He marched over the magazines, grabbed her shoulders, and kissed her.  Her lipstick skidded across his face, and they stumbled back, their four feet crushing the magazines, and onto her bed.  He scrabbled at her top, under it, her breasts smooth like cream, like bubbles, the straps slid down her bony shoulders, she gasped.  Her bed was unmade, the sheets still warm, but he didn't want to notice that.  He didn't want to think of her as someone who slept at night and had dreams and maybe sometimes felt as mad and hurting as he was at the moment…

            No, he wasn't hurting.  He was happy.  He was making out with a gorgeous girl in her bed and it was a sunny day.  Life was fucking wonderful.

            I don't like this.

            Shut up!  Her top was twisted round her throat now.  Her bra was orange.  He was pretty sure last time they'd done this she'd been wearing a purple one, how many bras did a girl have?

            Why the hell was he wondering all this anyway? 

            Because I don't like it, I don't want to be doing it…

            Well, that ain't my fault!  That's her fucking fault, ain't it?  She's doing summat wrong, she's not helping me out, she's frigid, she's, she's something…

            "Just slow –"

            And he didn't want to damn well talk to her.  He kissed her again, biting off the words

            Kiss as hard as when I did it to Kai…

            No!

            And reached under her skirt, to the heat between her thighs

            And I don't want to do it

            And I like this, I swear it

            And she grabbed at his wrist, and her long nails scratched and he flung her arm away from him

            And why can't I just stop – please stop –

            And this is gonna be good, I've said it is

            "What's with you?" she gasped.

            "Nothing's with me!"  He yanked at her skirt.

            "You're crazy!"  She caught his hand again, tore it off her clothes.  "What did I do – you're hurting me –"

            "No I ain't, geez Suki, can't you just get over yourself?  You ain't making this fun one bit, you moan all the time –"

            "I ain't moaning, it's you, you're pissed off about something.  Look, you can't expect to enjoy this if you don't know how to make me happy too –"

            "I know how to make you damn well happy!"

            And he slammed his hands onto her collarbones, shoved her down again, but she was right, he wasn't enjoying it, why the hell not?  Because you're a freak, you're a freak, you're not a guy, you're a freak, and you're gonna suffer for it – no – he wouldn't – he would fuck her brains out if it made him sick, he'd prove it, he'd prove his dad wrong; he wrenched her arms back above her head, her wrists scraped against his palms; and he'd show Kai he'd never cared for him, never liked him one bit –

            Far, far above him, back in the real world, he heard the door fly open.    "Suki, do you have any paracetamol – oh, sorry.  Hey – are you okay?"

            It all stopped. 

            And because it stopped, he was able to let go of Suki and slide off her a little, and she sat up, and they both turned to look at Hiroko, Kaneda's girl (or she had been last week, at least) who was standing there in a grubby nightdress, face shiny with sweat, a hot-water-bottle clutched to her stomach.

            "Um, yeah," Suki whispered at last.  "I'll – I'll go get it…"

            She glanced at Yamagata, and he was amazed, because he'd never seen her actually looking frightened before.   

            "Hello?  Yamagata?"  Hiroko shook her head.  "Let her get up, why don't you?"

            He shook himself a little, and climbed off her, and watched as she stumbled over to her chest of drawers and handed Hiroko the painkillers.

            It was so silent suddenly.  The cars outside seemed miles away.  Him and Suki and Hiroko were all wrapped up in this room together.  Sun stroked their faces, and their breathing rang out harsh and ruffled like fraying in the air.

            "Suki, come keep me company," Hiroko said at last.  "I feel like shit."

            "But Yamagata's –"

            "I'm sure he won't mind goin' and finding some place else to hang."  She gave him a look.  Her face looked black-and-white without makeup, but it was no less stern for that.  "This is girl stuff, okay?  Ow…"  She doubled over, clutching the hot water bottle tighter.  "You can find your own way out?"

            "Uh-huh."

            He watched them stumbling off down the corridor together before making his way out of the dorm and back out into the street.  Sun-baked – yeah, and the buildings steamed, and the air rippled with heat, and the sweat patches on his clothes were icy.

            What had actually happened back there?

            It was hard to remember already.  Just a crazy blur of hands and skin and clothes and sun.

            He'd never been like that with a girl.  You didn't need to leap on 'em.  If you were close enough to a girl to be kissing her, or with your arm round her or summat, then you didn't need to force 'em, they were all gagging for it and with just a few words or touches you'd have just what you wanted.  Forcing a girl was what nerds did who couldn't get it any other way. 

            And it wasn't like she hadn't been wanting it, was it?  She'd invited him back to screw, they'd done it before.  He shouldn't have needed to go postal on her.

            And he had. 

            Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if he'd decided to be rough with her, if he'd known about it and been happy with it.  But he hadn't.  He'd just got…

            …scared?

            Oh, shit.

            This was Kai's fault like everything else, damn him.  He was still sitting there up in Yamagata's skull, watching, with that horrified, hurt look on his face he'd had the day before.  Yamagata wished he'd go away.  Just to have some time where you didn't need to think any more. 

            If even Suki couldn't give him kicks now…

            It was happening, it was getting worse.  He really was changing, changing into a freak like his dad had said.  And he couldn't do anything because it was inside him.  He was cursed.  Instead of being a normal guy who would have liked getting it on with Suki, back there he'd been something else – something that couldn't like it, something that had had to force both of them to believe they were having fun…

            He was trembling again.  He tried to stop, and tried to ignore the scar, which felt like it was growing, covering all of him, showing everyone else what he really was…

            And it was all Kai's fault, Kai had got close to him and messed up his head, had started living in it and how were you supposed to think about someone in a normal way when they'd left their footprints all over your brain?  And Kai was the one who'd sabotaged his bike, after all.  And with friends like that, and all that shit…

            He wanted to hate Kai like he hated other people, the Clowns and Mr Takaba and all those other stupid jerks who got in your way.  But he couldn't.  All those people were pathetic, there was nothing to admire about 'em, you could pin hate onto them and it'd stick.  They existed to be hated.  Plus, most of them probably hated him too.

            But apart from this sabotage shit, he (he had) liked Kai, he thought Kai was cool and smart and funny (and cute) and a good person. 

            And Kai didn't hate him.

            It was an odd thought, and he took a moment to consider it.  You'd figure someone who'd deliberately messed with your bike in the hope you'd have a nasty, possibly fatal accident – and Kai knew enough about bikes to know that was what would happen – had to hate you.

            But he just knew.  Kai didn't hate him. 

            Okay, then, smartass, so if he don't hate you, why'd he do it?

            He was mad with me hitting him that time.  And going off with Suki.  Had to be.  He said he was jealous.

            But if you're jealous of someone, don't you hate 'em?

            He didn't want Kai to hate him…he wanted Kai still to be interested in him…and miss him…

            He got on the bike with me.  He got on the bike and let me drive off and he could've died, we both could've. 

            How could you do that?  How could you be so dumb? 

            He saw the scene again – the sick icy terror as he realised they weren't stopping – and the cars tearing past them, suddenly too powerful, too strong – and the wall – and him jumping – and tearing grazes down his arms – and then Kai lying there – dead –

            Not dead. 

            But could've been.

            He must've been crazy.

            Yeah.  He was crazy, wasn't he?  Yamagata was positive, no matter how mad he ever got with someone, he wouldn't do that to 'em.  He'd say it to their face, he'd break their skull against a wall, he'd bash their head in with a pipe, but he'd never do that. 

            Would he?

            Anyway, that wasn't important!  The point was Kai had done it, and the point was they'd both nearly died.  Nothing else mattered.  Not the misery in Kai's eyes when he'd owned up – not that they'd been going out –

            Not that if you'd said summat, the guys might've understood…or at least known why, properly why…

            Bullshit.  If he'd spoken, Kai would've had two problems to deal with.  He was practically doing the guy a favour.

            Wasn't he?

            Those sad eyes…Kai looked out at him, and said like hell you are.  It's yourself you're helping.  Not me.

            Man, it was getting hot.  His skin was slick with sweat all over now, and a dull headache was building behind his eyes. 

            He'd walk back to school, get his bike, and go find someplace shady.  And then he'd just laze around and forget everything.  The day seemed so long suddenly.  It was only like eleven-thirty or something, how was he supposed to kill the time?  Oh, well, he'd think of that later.  For now he'd get his bike back before some other bastard got their dirty hands on it.

            There was the school.  Grass slid through the cracked paving stones under his feet, dry and burnt like dead matches.  The parking lot was empty – he figured the others must have actually gone to a class for once – and there was his bike, the sun dripping along its corners, painting it with white-hot stripes that dazzled his eyes.  He was just about to leap on and get the hell out of there, when suddenly he heard footsteps, and turned to look, and Kai came round the corner.

            For a moment they both just stood there, staring at each other.  It was a shock to see Kai for real again, and Yamagata told himself that's why he was staring.  Kai's shoulders were hunched in his jacket again, and his face was shiny with the heat. 

            He must be really hot in that thing – this is the sort of day you can really enjoy taking things off –

            Skin on skin –

            Yamagata screeched his thoughts to a halt, tore his eyes away from Kai, and climbed onto his bike.   

            I don't need him and I don't even want him any more – and there's nothing he can do to make it up, I don't forgive people who try to kill me – and –

            I don't want to tell ever ever ever –

            Shit.  His brain talked too much.

***

Kai wished he hadn't come round the corner at just this time.  He didn't want to see Yamagata, he didn't want to see anyone, he was happy with his own company. 

            Looks like Yamagata wasn't – should I mention the lipstick stains?

            That bitch Suki…if she'd just let Yamagata alone, it wouldn't have happened.

            Well, probably, anyway.

            No, he didn't want to follow that thought, that thought really did make him a murderer.

            Yamagata was staring at him like their eyes had been melded by the heat.  Kai wanted to shrug, wanted to turn away, show Yamagata he didn't need him, he didn't want him – but why not keep staring?  Now he'd been kicked out he probably wouldn't be able to again unless he turned stalker.  And that would probably result in a length of piping being used to smash his skull, and he wasn't that depressed.                    

            Then Yamagata shrugged, and turned, and climbed onto his bike.  Kai wanted to call out for him to wait, to come back, to forgive him, but he gritted his teeth and kept the words back.

            I don't need you.

            And what would be the point?  Yamagata was obviously happy enough with Suki.  Probably heading back to her place now.

            One day he'd have to assassinate Suki.  Just to make himself feel better.

            As Yamagata drove off, Kai sighed, slowly, and suddenly tears as hot as the sunlight were burning in his eyes.

            He rubbed them away with his jacket sleeve, and once the sound of Yamagata's engine had faded, he started to walk.  He might as well get used to his room; he'd be spending a lot of time in it alone.