He closed his notebook as he completed his homework. He placed it in his backpack and put it beside his desk. His homework was done for the evening and now, the tiresome Taro could finally rest. It was his first week on the job and already he wanted to quit. It was outside of his routine and he was quickly aware that the time at work would interfere with his homework schedule. It was not that he was a honor student, but he believed in modesty with his academics. He concluded that he was not going to a top national university like Osaka or the University of Tokyo. He definitely knew was he didn't have any chances of attending Keio University. It still didn't mean that Taro would go to any second-rate college. Remembering back to the day of his acceptance to the high school, he promised his parents that he would try his hardest to find the best college in Japan.

He rested his elbow on his desk. His room smelled of fresh magnolias that his mother got from the supermarket that she worked. His mother enjoyed nature. Raised in her native Kyoto, she was inept from the beginning to love nature. Every week, she would filled their rooms with scented flowers to give her family a feeling of tranquility. Taro, honestly, felt indifferent. Nonetheless, he was happy that his mother was feeling fine for a change; especially after the car wreck of his father.

He turned around as he cracked his knuckles. It brought such relief to his joints as he faced his small, but cozy room. The room contained a small bed, neatly made. It had two straight backed chairs; one for hanging his uniform and the other for company. There were no curtains on his windows and there were no pictures on the wall. However, on his bedpost was a mural, a tree with every color of fall leaf imaginable and few more beside his window. With the scented magnolias on the mantle by the window, it gave his room an atmosphere of tranquility and solace; something that Taro wanted and acquired in his life.

With his homework completed, he had time to read one of the poems that his acquaintance Marcus let him borrow. Along with African American literature, Taro was also interested in Western literature. He sat on his small, delicate quilted bed and read a piece by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. As he read, there was one particular part of the passage that caught his interest. When explaining interest, it was not something that made him excited, but it was something of curiosity.

Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended

So long beneath the heaven's o'er-hanging eaves;

Thy steps are by the farmer's prayers attended;

Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;

And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,

Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!

The passage sent a shiver down his spine. It spoke to him like a whisper in the wind. His heart began to beat loudly as he was trying to keep his composure.

It's okay. Just relax. It's only natural. You do these things when you love someone.

It happened again, he thought. Just then, a ringing sound came from his ear. It was loud and was very impactive to the now worried Taro as he started to feel ill. He left his bed and was heading for the door until he began staggering. His hands were shaking, his heart was beating faster, and began sensing the hot, wetness coming from his nose. He knew it and feared for the worse. He was having the "attack."

His first memory of his "attack" was when he was the third grade. At the time, he was living in his father's hometown of Fukuoka on the island of Kyushu. As a young child, the elders that lived on the edge of town surrounding the forest told him and many young children to stay away from the forest. It was rumored that there were ghost that inhabited there and if any stranger, especially a young child, went into the forest, then the ghost would claim its soul. Taro knew about the legend as it was his grandfather who was one of the elders who claim the village on the outskirts of the town home. Rather if it was self-proclaimed or entitled, but his grandfather was a guardian to keep the spirits and the human apart from each other.

One evening, Taro broke the promise of his father and grandfather and walked into the forest. He did not want to go. It was a dare from a couple of the schoolchildren. They questioned his fear as they cornered him in the hallway that fateful afternoon at his school. They told him that if he was not afraid, then he would go to the shrine in the center of the forest and get an artifact from there. No longer wanting to be an outcast of his peer, the young, nubile Taro made his venture into the forbidden forest.

He was in the forest. The forest was ancient. The trees were thick and old and the roots were twisted. It might had once have been filled with birdsongs and animals that roamed, but it was now in the former ages of its glory. The lushness of vegetation on the tree was so dense that only any occasional streak of sunlight barely touch the forest floor. Even its thick vines were slowly taking away the last remnants of the shrine that stood in the center.

The leaves crackled like sandpaper as he took each step to the forbidden shrine. According to his classmates, it was legend that if he took an artifact from the shrine, it will bring him good luck. Not obliged with good luck, but don't want to be a laughing stock to his peers, he swallowed his pride and fear, he made his way. Each step was loud and creaky. It was very sorrowful with each step as if they were warning him to turn back while he still can. Ignoring its sound, he entered into its main area.

This "attack" was a long one. When Taro came to, he found himself on the floor. Taro closed his eyes, covered his mouth with a tissue, and gritted his teeth. He had no idea on how long was he out. Minutes? Hours? Seconds? He felt nauseated, more fatigued as he staggered from the floor to rest his head on the bed. These "attacks" happened from time to time. The doctors were unsure on what was the cause of it. Despite attending hypnotherapy sessions and speaking with psychiatrists, it was to no avail. He knew that it worried his family, especially his sister. She once mentioned that she had a friend that passed away from a seizure. Although unrelated with one another, the fear of losing someone close to her scared his sister, and it made her all the more closer to him. He wanted his mind to wake up, to get back in focus. But he knew that it would take time before his body would returned to normal.

Just then, he heard his cell phone rang. As it vibrated on his nightstand, he wondered on who could it be? He hardly received any calls, and especially that late into the evening. On the third ring, he picked up the phone and out from the receiver was the sound of woman with her voiced cracked.

"Hello," said the girl, "Are you there, Taro. It is me, Kokona."

He sat up to readjust himself. He did not want to give her the impression that something was wrong. He cleared his voice and wiped the blood from his nose. He did his best to remain calm as he talked to another acquaintance.

"Hey, Kokona," said Taro, "what's going on?"

"I'm okay," said Kokona, "I didn't call this late, did I? I am sorry."

"No, you're fine, Kokona," said Taro, reassuring her that she was fine, but very surprised. "It is just that I am surprised that you are calling me this late."

Taro looked at the clock and it was a quarter past nine in the evening. Around this time, Taro would prepare to head to bed. However, since his new work schedule, he had to push his bedtime back. He yawned as he continued to talk with Kokona.

"I am sorry once again," she said. Taro could imagine her bowing over the telephone. "It is just that. It is just, oh well it is nothing." Taro could tell by the sound of her voice that she was lying.

"Look, Kokona," said Taro, "If you feel that you can't talk over the phone, do you want to meet elsewhere?"

"Yes," she said quickly that Taro felt her vibration from the receiver. "Want to meet at the usual spot?"

"That's cool," said Taro. Taro looked at his watch and thought he could spare some time. "I will be out in 10. Is that cool?"

"Okay," she said before hanging up the phone.

Eight minutes later, Taro stepped out of his apartment and entered the foyer where the elevator was located. Normally, he would take the stairs to get to the destination. But, at this particular juncture, he was expecting a guest.

She and Taro were neighbors. She lived on the eighth floor whereas he lived on the second floor. She and Taro became neighbors after he moved to the complex nearly eight months ago. The abundance of medical treatment and payments for his father caused them to foreclose their home. Since then, they have live at the apartment complex.

He heard the sound of the bell, followed by the speaker of "second floor." The door opened and out came a young woman that looked close to Taro's age. She had light purple spiky bangs that accompanied her drill pigtails. Her eyes were light purple. She had beautiful fair skin and had a very large bust size, which was a burden to her and a blessing to the men and envious women.

She was sporting an athletic sweatshirt and mini-skirt with black leggings. It appeared to she was going to more of a causal date that was in contrast to what Taro was wearing. He was sporting a white t-shirt with blue jeans. Although the weather was cool, he liked the feeling of the coolness exposed to his skin. Without saying a word, he walked inside of the elevator and it closed behind him.

The tiny cafe huddled despondent among the the huge apartment buildings. Washed out under the overcast sky, it hunched in itself, fighting against the drizzle. On the busiest of evenings, hundreds of people rushed by it, outside on the crowded street. The few customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of the cool wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the cafe was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colorful walls. The customers returned to their conversations as the door swung closed behind the new, but familiar entrants and the cold breeze was forgotten.

The waitress greeted the pair as they were placed in a booth. She held her pad to take their order looked like the kind who knew the trick of the trade of the restaurant business. She was older. She had gray hair with a hint of brown. Her eyes were her highlight. It was a deep shade of a green like a deep, enchanted pool. She politely asked them of their order. Taro asked for two coffees. He wanted his black and Kokona, with cream and two sugars. He quietly thanked her as she walked to get his order. Neither of the duo were avid coffee drinkers, but something about drinking it gave them an edge of their budding adulthood.

The pair met eyes, but neither had yet to speak. It became routine as he did this with her whenever they meet at the cafe. When the pair were at school, they spoke in passing; with Kokona doing more of the speaking and Taro waving or passing her a glance. Kokona Haruka was a social butterfly at their school. She was very friendly and vibed with everyone, regardless of social hierarchy.

At eighteen years old, the young Kokona has experience a great deal of trials and tribulations. At the age of 8, she lost her mother to cancer. In the same year, she lost her grandmother to suicide as she was distraught from never accepting her daughter's death. Since her mother's death, her father became an alcoholic, causing him to forgo his parental value. She went into foster care when she was 10 and was in-and-out of group homes because of her wild behavior.

It was until she was 16 when she was able to return to her father. Her father, then sober and employed, did what he could to get his daughter back in line. Despite rebelling against his stern nature, she eventually gave in. Her behavior have changed and shifted for the better. It wasn't until her father became involved with a woman who turned out to be swindler. The woman robbed her father and drained all of his savings. Once again, he turned to the bottle for his comfort.

Because of her father's return to alcoholism, she resorted to measures that she felt she had no other choice. It was rumored that she was involved in compensation dating, an ongoing trend to young girls in Japan. Because of her involvement, it is said that she go on dates with older men and exchanged her used panties for cash or gifts. Then has been rumors that she has engaged in sex. She has neither denied it or confirmed it. However, the only people who knew of this was her best friend, Saki Miyu and Taro.

On one conversation, she openly admitted to being involved with compensation dating to help her father with debts. She doesn't enjoy those activities, but she knew it was the fastest way of helping her father. Taro didn't judge her for he felt she had to do whatever was necessary for her sake. I'm not God and I am neither a judge or a jury. Everybody has a stone, he once told her in a conversation.

On these few occasions, Taro was looked upon by Kokona as a shoulder buddy. She needed someone to listen to her without feeling judged or criticized. He didn't feel he was a suitable person to come for advice, but he was always available when he felt she needed support.

"Here are your coffees, kids," responded the waitress as she put the coffees on the table. They both bowed as the waitress excused herself. Taro took the coffee and drank as the warmth soothe him. Once he finished drinking, he was ready to talk.

"Okay, Kokona, let's talk," said Taro as if he was preparing business. Kokona took another sip with her coffee before putting it back on the table. She used the spoon to stir her coffee. Taro knew that she would only do that when she has something heavy on her chest.

"Thank you for seeing me on short notice," said Kokona.

"No worries," said Taro, "I am here to do whatever I can to help."

"You have always been a helpful person, senpai," said Kokona, "That is why I come to you."

Taro was used to being called senpai by his younger peers. It was weird when hearing it from students of the same grade. She was not the person to refer him by that name. With many people calling him that that it became sort of a nickname. It didn't matter to him because he rather to be known as senpai than anything that was vulgar.

She pressed her nails into her skin. She had a smug look on her face. Taro could tell that she was afraid to talk. "Take your time. There is no rush for me to know. If not, then later. Until then, we can relax and drink our coffee." He believed in structure when talking to people. Don't rush your words or your thoughts, he thought. He believed in rationality over emotions because emotional decisions could be damning, at least that was what he thought.

"I am afraid that my father might be deeper than what he is letting on," she said. "I fear that my father might be in debt with some loan sharks from the yakuza."

"The yakuza," asked Taro. He was a bit puzzled by the response. There was a small gang presence in the town, but most of them were lowlifes and delinquents. The likeability of her father being involved in the yakuza was little to none. Unless, he was involved in some serious gambling.

"What makes you think that your father was involved in such a group," asked Taro.

"Well, the other day as I headed home, a black sedan was following me," she said. "I kept walking a few blocks and it was slowly creeping on me. I got scared that I ran until I got to my apartment. I locked the door until my dad came home."

"That is scary," responded Taro. He looked at Kokona's face as her face furrowed, showing wrinkles. "What did your father have to say?"

"What could he say," said Kokona as she sip another drink of coffee. "Half the time, he is pissed drunk on the floor or the other, he would be at pachinko clubs pissing our savings."

Kokona looked around the cafe to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "I am seeing strange men outside of the complex."

Taro agreed with Kokona. Since the entertainment district has been expanded outward to their neighborhood, there have been people scouring the place looking for "talent."

"Last night, when I came home from my 'thing,' I was met by two people who were waiting outside of the elevator," said Kokona. "They asked me if Yuusuke was my father. I told them no as I went in the elevator. Thank God I prayed because I was fearful that they would do something bad to me."

Kokona has kept a tough demeanor. Although she was sensitive, she was far from weak. On her best days, she would verbally attack someone instantly. She was not much of a fighter, but she took self-defense class. She even kept a bottle of pepper spray around her waist.

"This is getting scary and it worries me, Taro," said Kokona with her pleading eyes. "What do you I should do? Should I involve the police? Should I involve my father?"

Taro reached for the coffee and saw that the cup was empty. He knew exactly how the cup felt: empty. He did not what to do to help her. If it were up to him, he wish he didn't get involved. However, going against his nature, he needed to be solution oriented.

"First, I wouldn't jump to conclusions on what if your father is getting involved in such a group like the yakuza," said Taro. "You should be concerned about his alcoholism and his gambling. He needs to get some help. Both vices are harmful and effects could be irreversible if not careful. He needs to take top priority and that is raising you."

He exhaled through his nose as he continued. "I am not going to judge on any factor on what goes on in your life because I am not God. But, it is best that you and your father need to address the issues on both ends. His problems and your situation with you-know-what."

Kokona swallowed nothing for she knew exactly what he was talking about.

"You have been through a lot. I think you two need to remind yourselves of staying positive and sticking together. Think about the future," said Taro.

"That is why I like you, senpai," said Kokona, "You always know what to say. You tell it like it is."

Not always, Kokona, not always. He mind focused on a bedeviled childhood friend.

As they made their way back to the apartment complex, Kokona wrapped her arms around Taro. Taro smelled her cheap perfume, which he didn't like. But her shampoo was compensating the scent. "It is amazing, senpai, that you have a great ideology on life. You should be a professor, or something."

"Not really, but I do what to be involved in something riveting," said Taro.

"Like what," asked Kokona.

"I don't know," replied Taro.

"As smart as you are, senpai, you will find something," said Kokona.

It was not long until he was in front of Kokona's apartment door. Before he departed, she grabbed him by his arm. "Thanks, senpai, for everything."

"Don't mention it, Kokona," he said. "If worse comes to worse, you can spend the night at my house, if you like."

"I might take you up on your offer," she said. She waved him goodbye and closed the door.

Taro appreciated and valued Kokona's acquaintanceship, but she could be a handful. The problem he felt Kokona had was that she allowed others to influence her. Having a lot of friends doesn't mean it was a good thing. Having everyone to have an availability on one's life can become very fatal, socially. He was grateful that Kokona had some decency to keep her private life where it belong. If the school knew of her secret life, then he knew she would be targeted the boys at school. At private schools like his, a reputation is a reputation for years to come. There was no some such thing as a clean slate. The past included the present and the future. That was why Taro did his best to stay out of the loop. Once in his astronomy class, he was asked if he were a planet, where would he belong. He told him Pluto. It was out of the way and no longer a planet.

He made his way back into the apartment when he received a phone call. It was an unfamiliar number. When he answered, it was the voice of his homeroom teacher.

"Good evening," responded Takahashi-sensei, "Is this the number of Taro Yamada?"

"Yes ma'am," said Taro, "This is he."

"Good evening, Mr. Yamada," replied Takahashi-sensei, "Sorry for calling so late. Is this a good time?"

"No ma'am, you are fine," said Taro.

Taro has never felt this kind of excitement before. This was a new feeling that he was doing his hardest to become familiar. It was not everyday that his favorite poet was his teacher and now she was on the phone with him.

"Good," she said. "I am coming about tomorrow's meeting. It has been changed."

"Changed," he asked. He feared that the meeting may not happened. He was whisper a prayer in hopes that he could have a moment with Takahashi-sensei.

"Yes, Mr. Yamada," she said. "You see, the school decided to get pest control on the same time we supposed to meet. So I am unable to meet you there."

"Oh, okay," he said, trying his hardest to keep the sound of disappointment from his voice.

"However, I still want to meet with you," she said. "How do you feel if we talk over dinner?"

"Dinner? I would love to," said Taro. Taro was filled with excitement. So much so, he nearly dropped his phone. "Dinner? We can do that."

"Good, I am glad," said Takahashi-sensei. "I am in the mood for Italian. There is a spot that sells some of the best rotini in town. I think we can share Italian and poetry together. How does that sound?"

"Great," said Taro. "I will see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she concurred. "I will come and pick you up from your place around 6."

"6 o'clock," he said. "See you then."

"See you then, my spring chicken," said Takahashi-sensei before hanging up.