07. (at this place right now) where did we go wrong
-x-
As he searched the crowd for the redhead, Takasugi replayed the coin flip over and over again in his mind, unable to shake off the wave of relief that'd washed over him when the coin had landed face-up. It was ridiculous, he told himself. He knew he would've disregarded his end of the bargain if he'd lost, so he'd expected the same of Kamui – not this, not the blithe acceptance seemingly devoid of disappointment. What were the two of them exactly?
Smelling the crepes before seeing them, he slowed to a stop in front of the booth and watched the student spread out the batter on the hot plate. There were few people in the world that others couldn't "buy," whether the payment was in cold, hard cash or something else. But he realized, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he had no idea what Kamui's favorite food actually was. Something was better than nothing, he decided, and asked the student at the booth for a box of crepes. Besides, as far as he could tell, Kamui had never expressed a real preference anyway.
The festival crowd was thinning, and the air, buzzing with idle chatter instead of earsplitting pop music, became light. Noting that he'd come full circle and returned to his starting point, Takasugi looked toward the stage, where volunteers were packing up the backline equipment now that the concert was over. His gaze trailed to a corner of the stage, and his chest tightened when he spotted Kamui talking to Bansai. The redhead's braid obscured the embroidered words on the back of his coat – grandiose words that, at first glance, looked childish, obnoxious, and didn't fit him at all. He appeared small, standing below the stage in front of Bansai, even though the musician was crouching on the platform and not towering over him. The exemplification of the phrase "looks can be deceiving," really.
"Kawakami-senpai," Takasugi heard another student call out as he approached the stage. "Kawakami-senpai!" she shouted into the microphone mounted on the stand in Bansai's hand, and her voice amplified across campus. "Can you hear me?!"
Scattered laughter came from the crowd, and Bansai calmly rose to his feet. "I heard you the first time," he answered, nodding to Takasugi in acknowledgement before walking off with the other student, microphone stand in tow.
Chewing on a piece of takoyaki, Kamui turned and met Takasugi's gaze briefly. His eyes fell on the box of crepes and followed it when Takasugi placed it in front of him on the stage. He looked up again and stuffed another piece of takoyaki into his mouth.
"I never expected you to be someone who gave up so easily," said Takasugi.
Kamui poked his toothpick into another takoyaki ball and replied, "It's not fun fighting against someone who doesn't want to fight anyway."
"It would've been a pointless fight."
Kamui smiled. "Most things in life are pointless. Don't you think?"
Narrowing his eye, Takasugi searched the redhead's expression for telltale changes, something indicative of dark humor, but he only found a neutral smile that anyone could've worn while informing others of the beautiful weather they were having today. His fists clenched as he mulled over everything he had done ever since Shoyo-sensei's death and everything he had wanted to achieve as a result. Falling from a good student to a delinquent in order to wander the circles of hoodlums, watching his classmates move on while he pursued one dead-end after another... He thought about the rain and the sun that brought life and death, and the fleeting time they spent together, from the first meeting to the arbitrary wager. Was everything just something that could be carelessly picked up and then put down again like a pack of tissues?
"What do you really want?" he finally asked in a quiet voice as he wondered if the strings that entwined their fates would unravel or remain entangled.
Are you courting death?
Kamui tossed the toothpick into the empty takoyaki box and said, without looking up, "I just don't want to lose to some small fry I can't even see. I thought..." His voice trailed off, and he glanced at Takasugi with a small smile. "I guess this is where our roads diverge," he said and, after a slight hesitation, walked past Takasugi, bringing with him a soft breeze, cool in the summer heat.
Takasugi's lips curved up into a mocking smile, and in a fit of pique, he swept the untouched box of crepes to the ground. It landed with a splat, and he glowered at the space it left behind until a movement on the stage caught his eye.
"Would you like to play something?" Bansai asked, holding up his guitar as he settled himself on the edge of the platform next to Takasugi. When Takasugi turned to lean his back against the stage, both hands in his pants pockets, Bansai rested the guitar on his lap and continued, "Your song is erratic today, Shinsuke. His as well, I daresay, although his is more like white noise from a bad microphone picking up ambient sound."
"Who?"
Strumming quiet chords on his guitar, Bansai said, "You know who I am referring to."
"What does it have to do with me?"
Takasugi could feel Bansai's eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on the playing field where people were setting up a large bonfire for the festival. The guitar fell silent, and Bansai asked, "Do you remember how we became acquainted?"
"You wanted me to join your band."
"I still do," said Bansai. "I liked your music, and Matako wanted to hear it as well. She even got into trouble with the pistol team for skipping practice to spend time with you," he added, his voice laced with vague amusement. "Shinsuke," he said in a low voice, ignoring the crash coming from the back of the stage. "We know we will always be second, and we are fine with that, but not everyone is like us."
"Tsunpony!" someone shouted.
"Do you still know what you want, Shinsuke?"
"This is nonsense," said Takasugi.
"Tsunpony!" Otsuu hollered through a megaphone. "Are you deaf fish head?"
"What is it this time and tide wait for no man?"
"We dropped the drum set sail for Laputa!"
Bansai sighed and got to his feet. "Excuse me for a moment," he said before he took off, leaving Takasugi with heavy silence that lingered like a stubborn ghost seeking closure.
Maybe he had died then, in the car accident, when he lay among shards of glass in the cold water, and everything that came after was a very long dream that developed into a nightmare. The wishful thinking of a child who wanted a family, the rude awakening by his psychopomp who flung him to purgatory...
Shaking his head, Takasugi pushed himself away from the stage and started heading toward the school gate. The pale yellow full moon hung over the trees, and he glanced at it before he paused to stare at the two people conversing near the crowd that had gathered for the bonfire. He had always known what he wanted, he reminded himself as he made his way over to them. It had never changed.
Abuto raised an eyebrow when he noticed Takasugi approaching them, and Kada looked over her shoulder in response. Their eyes met, one with mistrust and the other with contempt but no sign of recognition otherwise.
"Hold it," Takasugi said to both Abuto's and Kada's surprise when she turned on her heels. "I want to talk to you."
Halting her footsteps, Kada regarded him with mild interest and said in a drawl, "Oh? What business do you have with me?"
There was a beat.
"What do you know about the murder near Harusame Middle School four years ago?" Takasugi asked, knowing that it was a wild stab in the dark.
Abuto gaped at him while apprehension flitted across Kada's face before her expression closed. "You are talking to the wrong person," she said slowly.
"Oi," Abuto said to Takasugi. "Have you lost it?"
Clenching his fists and feeling his fingernails digging into the skin of his palm, Takasugi said, "Someone saw you." It was a lie, but even in the flickering bonfire light partially blocked by groups of people, he could see the colors drain from Kada's face.
Her voice was harsh when she spoke again. "Like I said, you are talking to the wrong person."
His stomach churned, and he grabbed Abuto's fist in a swift motion when the latter reached for his collar.
"Hey punk," Abuto said in a low, menacing tone. "Is Yagan behind this?"
Takasugi returned Abuto's hard gaze and tightened his grip on the other's fist, his thoughts racing and raging. Nothing mattered anymore: not the wrong turns or the dead-ends, not the people he'd encountered along this twisted journey, and definitely not anything that would stand in his way. He wanted –
"Oi oi," a familiar, obnoxious voice sounded from their side. "What's going on here? It's the festival, so let's all get along, shall we?" Ginpachi said, giving them a weary yet piercing look as if anything besides eating his strawberry parfait was an exertion and anything interrupting the savoring of his strawberry crepe was a nuisance.
Abuto and Takasugi let go of their grasp on each other with a shove, and the former hurried after Kada when she stalked off, passing Ginpachi, her eyes burning with fury and humiliation. Ginpachi shot a glance after them before he turned to Takasugi and said, "Are you trying to get yourself kicked out?"
Takasugi remained silent, his gaze fixed on the two retreating figures and his teeth clenched. He took an abrupt step to the side but stopped when Ginpachi stuck his hand out in an equally abrupt manner and waved his roll of crepe in front of Takasugi's face.
"Want some?" Ginpachi said. "It'll help with your low blood sugar."
Takasugi scowled. "Are you mocking me?"
Pulling back his arm, Ginpachi sighed and, after casting Takasugi a long look, nodded toward the bonfire. "Why don't we join them and enjoy the rest of the festival? Hm?"
The corner of Takasugi's eye twitched. "Sometimes I really despise you."
"That's fine," Ginpachi said, glancing at the night sky. "Better me than someone else, y'know?" He dipped the crepe into the parfait and added, "Eh, do what you want. Just don't cause anymore trouble. No teachers want to see their student expelled. Not me... not anyone else. The paperwork is a major pain in the ass."
The shift in Ginpachi's tone, from apathy to a flash of grief to annoyance, caused Takasugi to pause. Before him, he could see, once again, the lilies, the peonies, and the chrysanthemums. Studying Ginpachi's distant and bored expression, Takasugi asked, not knowing what he wanted to hear, "Were you the one who brought the flowers to Shoyo-sensei's grave?"
"Yeah," Ginpachi replied, examining the red and white swirl in his parfait as if it were the most intriguing feature in the world. "He was my senior in university," he added as an afterthought.
"And it never bothered you how he died?" Takasugi asked, taken aback by the calmness in his voice. His heart was pounding against his chest. He felt so awfully blind.
"What do you want to take away from the person who inadvertently caused his death?" Ginpachi asked, looking at Takasugi. There was no reproach in his expression, no sharpness in his tone, and barely any curiosity. "It was an accident, wasn't it?"
The nonchalance coating Ginpachi's words was like glass gashing his skin. Takasugi stared. "That's absurd," he said after a few failed attempts at repeating the word accident. "He died from a knife wound."
"She didn't mean to stab him. It was an accident."
The words sank in, one by one, the pain so intense that none of them really registered except one. "You know who it was," Takasugi said in a harsh whisper. "You... She... Was it that woman?"
Ginpachi's expression softened. "Let it go, Takasugi."
Takasugi grabbed Ginpachi's collar, his grip trembling with anger. "You expect me to listen to you? This isn't a joke. How do you know what happened? How can that be an accident? Why – "
"If you aren't able to listen now, would you have listened four years ago?"
"What?"
"Oi!" a girl's voice shouted. Kagura and Katsura came flying out of the crowd toward them, and Kagura continued, "What the heck is going on?"
"Have you lost your mind?" Katsura shouted, reaching for Takasugi's arm, and pried the piece of clothing out of the latter's grasp. "What is wrong?"
Paying no attention to his classmates, Takasugi glared at Ginpachi and turned. He jerked to a stop when Ginpachi seized his collar.
"Normally I'd just let you do whatever you want, but you're not thinking right now," Ginpachi said. "Kagura, good timing. Could you grab your dad?"
"Eh?" Kagura blurted out. "Why?"
"Just do it," Ginpachi said, and watched Kagura hesitate for a moment before running back to the crowd. He glanced at Katsura, something simmering meeting concern, but when he spoke, he was talking to Takasugi. "Teachers are supposed to protect their students," he said and repeated it again in a whisper. "Teachers are supposed to protect their students..."