As always, sorry for the incredibly long wait on a chapter, I will be posting another soon, hopefully over spring break.
Sawada took a long breath as he stepped off the subway. It had been two weeks since he took the entrance exam for Keio, and the results were waiting a block away. He was not a man to be anxious, but he could feel a butterfly bouncing in his stomach. This time it mattered if he got into the university. The street was crowded, students passing back and forth toward the subway, mostly younger than he. He could see the red and white brick building in the distance. The acceptance board was close by.
He took the short way, cutting across the sidewalks and grassy patches. The boards were crowded, but people were passing by quickly. The names were organized by their radical and he found his about a third of the way down on the fourth board. His eyes went wide, and his breath caught for a second. He had pretended to have no expectations for the results, but his heart was rushing. He stepped back from the board, his space filling back up.
Students continued to cycle in front the board, but his feet seemed frozen to the ground. He was numb until his phone vibrated against his leg, Natsumi's name lighting up the screen. She had been pestering him to find out since the day before when the names were first posted. After the meeting with the Yoshida family, she had taken to sending him messages a few times a day. This message was a demand to know if he had been accepted or not. He glanced at the board again, wanting to make sure he had actually seen his name. He sent a single word: yes.
He had made it to the edge of campus when his phone rang. Natsumi sounded as excited as when he had come back. She desperately wanted to get together, but the end of the semester was imminent and she had tests to study for. In truth Shin didn't really want to do anything to celebrate. Getting in was only one of the hurdles.
After they finished talking he found himself wandering in a direction he was not familiar with. He had never spent much time in the area, and if this was going to be his school, he needed to find his places to hide. As he walked along the street his mind began wandering.
The idea of new chapter starting was intimidating. It was something he had never really admitted to himself before, but he was concerned about what would come and go. It was exhilarating to get back into Keio, but there was always a nagging feeling inside. Some small voice inside had hoped it would go away when he found out the results, but now it was almost screaming at him. Sawada could not abide lying to himself, and ignoring the voice was equivalent.
He could hear the faint sound of running water, and he let his feet go in that general direction. There was a small channel running toward the bay. It was a steep stone drop to the water, but there was grass and a few trees along the side. This seemed ideal, hidden from the street, and the sound reminded him of the riverside he used to lie beside in high school.
He pulled his journal out from his back pocket, and wrote a few lines. The voice had quieted slightly, so he kept delving in that direction. What had he lost and gained on the crossroads of his life? When he left his family after the fight in school, he had gained his freedom, something he had so desperately wanted. But with that freedom he had lost his sister and mother, both who suffered without him. When he left Japan for Africa he had gained understanding of what was really important in life, but had also sacrificed his friendships and Kumiko. Returning to Japan had meant the sacrifice of all his friendships in Africa. Why had he come back? His intentions were unclear even to himself.
The nagging inside was getting louder again, like there was something he was missing. Sawada never made a decision that he wasn't sure about, which meant he was sure about leaving, sure about Africa, and sure about returning. He let his mind go reaching for whatever he was missing.
Kumiko flashed in his mind, and he realized what he was really afraid of losing. When he came back to Japan she was just a passing memory, but she had been injected back into his life, and he didn't want to lose her again. But what would he really lose if she was gone? The thoughts were flying through this head, everything muddled and unclear.
All the layers were unraveling, and Sawada found that he could hardly keep up with what was inside him. Everything that she had taught him could be summed up in one sentence; it mattered what happened to friends. But amid all that, he could not see anything else she had left to teach.
The nagging inside was suddenly silent. He took a breath and repeated the thought again. Everything that Kumiko could teach him, he had already learned. If there was nothing left to learn then what could it be with Kumiko? It was nice to be around her, and they had a good friendship, but he didn't just want a friendship.
He took a few deep breaths before putting his journal away. He was tired of pouring over his worries. But he could feel it hanging over him; he stood up and threw a rock into the water. The splash resounded for a moment before disappearing into the noise of the city.
His phone had been vibrating against his leg since he sat down. Natsumi had spread the word and the messages were collecting. He started thumbing through, distracting his mind from the things he just realized. As he scrolled to another message, the phone started to ring, he didn't even have a chance to see who it was before it was answered.
The voice erupted, and he was very happy the phone wasn't next to his ear. He was unable to understand the words, but he knew the voice, and he took a deep breath before actually lifting the phone to his ear. She had somewhat lowered the volume, but it still wasn't pleasant. "Congratulations." Was the most common word, but she was rambling as fast as he had heard.
When she took a breath he interjected. "Thank you Yankumi, you're going to make my ear fall off." It was kind but firm.
"Oh… I'm sorry Sawada, I'm just so very happy for you." She crescendoed as the sentence ended. "Please come over for dinner so we can celebrate, everyone can come."
Sawada took a deep breath, that was a fine offer, but he didn't even want to celebrate, really, not to mention everything he had just gone over in his head. "Thank you so much, but I think it would be better if I just headed home today, I have a lot of things to do for the next few days."
Kumiko was not going to take no for an answer. She launched into a near tirade about how he had to celebrate and if he wasn't coming to her house, she was coming to his. Shin realized he should've known better, Kumiko was talented at getting what she wanted.
"Alright." Shin interrupted her mid sentence. "But I would really like it to be just me." That felt like a completely reasonable request, and hopefully Kumiko would bend her will just a bit.
She was silent for a minute, mulling over the option. "Are you sure you don't want to have a few people over with you?" Sawada's answer was firm. She fell quiet again. "Alright. But you have to promise me that you're going to have a big celebration, and that I can come."
Why was she so damned determined about everything. Sawada fumed to himself, but agreed to the stipulation. They hung up, and Sawada continued fuming. It was mid afternoon now, so there would be a few hours before she expected him, what to do from then until now was the question.
She had again managed to inject herself, and he felt it was something of a knife to his chest that she had decided to call him at that moment. He had just unraveled the essence of their friendship, and was at a loss on what to do. He wouldn't be able to say goodbye to her, she wouldn't let him, but this would have to be a goodbye dinner.
The city sounds enveloped him as he continued to wander, letting the sun go down slowly in the sky. There was no place that he wanted to go, and eventually he found a bench to just sit on. It was so childish that he couldn't tell her what was going on, but he knew how she would react, and there was no choice, this was his decision. He stretched his legs out, and stared up at the sky.