THE PASSING WIND
-TheSilentReader-
{PROLOGUE}
He felt that he was in a wrong place. He felt suffocated in the vast grounds of one of the elite boy's schools in Tokyo. Everyone seemed to have chains attached upon their feet—he was not interested with those shackles, but he could see them all the same. Theirs were different; theirs were nothing like what Kashiwagi had for himself. He knew how surprising rumors spread out like the wind—encompassing and random. He could feel their eyes upon him everywhere. The name Kashiwagi, unknown to these rich boys, was not even his. The stigma of being an adopted child was enough for these boys with expensive school shoes and crisp white shirts underneath the Hanadera's ash gray uniforms to give him the eye of superiority. Eyes that could express flickers that would tell the thoughts of many. He was an outsider—he knew that very much—a rat just picked up from Kyoto by a middle-aged couple who knew little of his past and more of the legacy his dead mother used to have.
His mother . . . he missed her. She was the only one he had. She was his world and only for her he tried to endure living.
He was glad that no one, not his classmates nor his teachers, had bother him into talking. He was afraid of how everyone assumed such a solid ground before them—as if the world had been in favor of them and their future were sure and assuring. He was afraid that they'd know that he was paranoid of tomorrow, the uncertainty that one day he would be alone once again, just like when his mother died. He was afraid to talk—that if he opened his mouth, nothing would come out but his fears and his weaknesses and the phonetics of his deep Kyoto accent before these sophisticated Tokyo nobs.
He did not speak frequently, but he tried to listen. He wanted to learn the ways to remove the proof of his past—his accent—as he glided along the walls and made himself inconspicuous. There was so much to learn; from the way they speak—a flaunty use of formal words and the lack of decadence in the way they stood up straight, to everything—like nobles in the imperial court of the ancient times. It was hard to learn, but he did anyway—everything must be learned for him to survive. There was nothing to support him, the way his mother did. He must do it for himself, by himself.
Yet, the wall seemed not enough for him to blend into the background. He was too unique in a place when everyone had been the same. He knew that he had been trying too hard to duplicate their actions—to make it seemed like he belonged to their caste—someone anyone could discern to be from the uptowns of Tokyo; those that had money and prestige to back them up into learning the perks of being rich. He had none of that. He was never thought of that—not by her mother. He could not brag the way they did, or flaunt the way they did, or to belittle others the way they did.
Power to manipulate, to dominate. That's it . . . they had this invisible force that made them like that. He never felt he had that, never when all he knew was her mother's bright eyes, faintly smiling lips, her nimble fingers and long arms as she painted. Her arms around and above him, when he was sitting between her legs upon the tatami mat—she was flicking her brush upon the ground while he watched, saying things like, "this is how you create a feather-like effect when you paint the ocean from a far-away perspective . . . not too much paint . . ." gently near his ear. Nothing to look for power for, because he always knew that his mother protected him. He never needed it . . . until she'd gone.
He wished he had. He wished he was far better than the rest. He wished that he was big enough to protect her. He wanted to be in Kyoto, in their large, almost barren house, painting. Watching her coming to the gates and welcoming her, from a long day at work. Cleaning the rooms before she comes home. No matter how poor they were, as long as their house were there, protecting them, life would be perfect. Okaa-chan and the two of them.
It used to be, many years ago. He was very little but he could still remember her face. He would never forget the saturated smell of paint, the aroma of tea, the long dexterous fingers that held paintbrushes long time ago.
Even though he was now in Tokyo. Even though he was now in this awful place called Hanadera Academy for Boys. Even though he was nothing. Even though he had nothing. Even though he was now a Kashiwagi. Even though he was just an orphan. Even though they stripped him of his true name. Even though he was afraid that someday someone will discover that he had no father. That only his mother mattered to him. Even though he found the Kashiwagi as his way to get power. Even though they had little.
He will never be like them.
- Suguru (1985)
CHAPTER 19:
Sixteen years ago
The thirteen year-old Ryu had a fixed belief that nothing could be resolved with violence. One must fight with reason, with words, with the mind. He believed that hurting someone would only bring forth more violence, and nothing will be settled when you hit back after stomaching a punch. If there was one thing he learned from his mother, this was the ability to settle things with reasonable talking.
An argument for another argument. Settling affairs not with compromise, but with acceptance of complete defeat. Either you win or you lose.
It also brought him to trouble. There was nothing to fear if he knew that he was not in the wrong side.
He was in a clubroom as he watched the usually-empty grounds. He was bored to death; he could not even remember the reason that he came in the clubroom at lunch—he usually ate at the cafeteria. Oh, right, he was to assist a sempai in his club project. Who was still not here. Waiting for him made Ryu realized that the rumors circulating in the middle high school division—the school grounds near the clubroom building was void of students, except for a group of students ganging up at a bench near the building.
Ryu looked down, almost teary with boredom. He was almost caught up with sleep when a flash of movement had been caught by his peripheral vision. A boy with messy black hair was fisting a sempai's uniform.
"Hey—"
He stopped before he could gather attention for himself. This was their fight—no, this is not. But why?
Then, he looked at the group of students at the bench. They were looking at the two. The tallest of them had been eyeing the boy with black hair. Before he could shout warning to the boy, the door of the clubroom opened and his sempai appeared. He was clearly angry at his lateness, apologized with quick utterances for Ryu, and demanded Ryu his undivided attention.
Ryu removed himself from the window.
All the time, he wondered what happened to that kid. The tallest man of the group at that bench was lancing glares at him.
Nothing had been different in Hanadera with its sister school, Lillian. It had similar legacies: students were carefully selected and sorted out to produce the best of generations every year. Not only were they fussy on their students, they were also famous for their admissions of the sons and daughters of rich and influential families in Musashino area, which always brought them recognition. If Lillian had been famous for their one-piece, dark green uniform, Hanadera students were easily recognized for their ash-grey gakuran.
Lillian had their maidens; Hanadera had their gladiators.
Talked about being Shakyamuni's apprentices—what a load of crap—behind those rumors about the school's prodigious scholastic performance, less were said about the rules in the school grounds. It was a tradition seldom spoken.
Young KashiwagiSuguru did not know how extensive the history of such boring place—he was never into stories anyway. He hated Japanese literature. He hated Japanese history and social sciences. He hated tradition. He hated how people tend to give such recognition to places that did not even have any significance in their lives. He hated gossips. He hated how people get scared because of the past. Like the school grounds near the building where club rooms were located. Just like this stupid shit that was now attacking him for staying under a tree. He just wanted to be by himself. He did not need anyone—he was not bothering anyone—why is this piece of shit shouting at him—his saliva showering on Suguru's face as he towered him, a lonely boy who was just sitting under this tree.
He would not mind if this fatboy liked to share the shade, but his baseball bat was hanging dangerously above him that he could not stand the thought of that light metal colliding with his head . . . he just needed to make fatty shut his piehole for a moment—he needed quiet; Suguru's foot had been stomping in repeat by a march as his patience was getting thinner and thinner, that's why he's here in the grounds—
Whack.
That's it. Fuck whatever he was saying; he intended to shut him up. It did not help that after punching him in the face; the beast retaliated by swinging his bat blindly at him. The trunk of the tree protected Suguru. He fisted the collars of his uniform, to ask him to "Be quiet."
Never mind that the first thing he had done was to stop whimpering. Good. That's fine for him. He released the boy, while he picked the discarded bat and tossed it to him. If he still wanted a fight, then, brother, all he needed to do was to ask.
He slumped once more to his spot beneath the cooling canopy of the tree, and stayed seated, as he disregard the boy's form from his sight and stared to . . . whatever his eyes looked at. The green grass—he could remember how perfectly Okaa-chan could do such a shade—she was not particular with adding much water—but she could still have endless tones of green in just one leaf sheath. But it was all in the past—the Kashiwagi household had found him and financed his schooling . . . they were nice people, he thought. Yet, he was afraid of telling them that he was still Kinomoto Hinata's son and he could ensure what every generations of his family had been nurturing.
But he could not tell them. Not now. Keeping the memories of his mother was his goal—at least he still had her sketches. He still kept them—he won't give them; they'd just sell them away.
He shifted in his seat, fearing that the spine of a sketchpad would bend. He put it on his lap and stuffing up the sleeves of his uniform and long-sleeved shirt up to his elbows, he tried to contemplate of how to convert such lovely color of mint green into a bleak gray.
Not far from Suguru was a tall third year from the middle-school division grinning like a mad man when he saw the freshman took out a large pad from his back and was seemingly dazed by the pastures of emerald. At lunch break, when every student was not in their stuffed classrooms but walking along hallways, taking a break, was when a first year middle school student of Hanadera Academy struck back at a third year who tried to intimidate him.
And won.
Fourteen years ago
It was not a momentous meeting of minds; it was more of an accident why Ryu and Suguru came into an understanding during a spring day of their third year in junior high school. It was more of an unplanned rescue for Suguru when a group of delinquents had planned to usurp his territory in the school grounds of Hanadera's middle school division.
Kashiwagi was not expecting that someone had planned to get rid of him. The leader even brought some of his friends from other schools just to add numbers to their force. He was evidently trying to gain his old status once more, now that Suguru will be leaving for high school. He was not wasting time. He clearly wanted to settle debts even in the lovely late afternoon in a spring day.
Touma Ryu was the one who told him of that disturbance.
"He's my classmate. I came to warn you."
"That doesn't make sense. A very proper and righteous student like you should've reported this to the faculty. Not warn me."
"I rather not be involved."
"Just disclosing that info added you to the mix, Touma."Kashiwagi smirked as he saw a group of students appearing at the grounds, one by one, tapping their baseball bats upon their shoulders. The leader was able to get those school-owned bats—did he bully the captain? Kashiwagi thought that the captain gave his full support and wanted his blood too. He smirked at the thought and told Touma, "You better get one of those bats from them. That's the first thing I'll do . . ."
Then the first wave of swinging bats came to his direction. As Kashiwagi run for collision, Ryu immediately duct. He heard loud battle cries; Kashiwagi punched the first man who attacked him and stole the bat, only swing it to the torso of the second boy near him. On the third, he kicked his chest. It went on and on and all Ryu could do was to watch.
The first wave was easily defeated. Now, those who had been standing by were now running towards Kashiwagi . . .
What was Kashiwagi saying? Get the first bat he saw nearest him? No . . . no, that's not how things should be. Not all things can be solved with violence. Words are always powerful—it can change things . . .
"Stop, if you don't want to harm me."Ryu announced at some attackers who were about to launch their first assault to their target, Kashiwagi. "If you really want to me to report this incident, that's no problem. In fact, I know every one of you here. It was easy memorizing everyone's names when you're in the student council."
The Hanadera students stopped their paths one by one, as Ryu gained bravery when he was reciting names, recognizing faces. The lump in his throat was getting smaller and smaller—seconds past by and he felt that his name was finally becoming a strength, not a nuisance. He felt his voice losing its uncomfortable trembling, as boys before him weighing the bats they're holding—realizing that they were in a very wrong place, at a wrong time, holding the wrong weapon, talking to the wrong person.
". . . Abe-san, you don't want to add this to your long list of offences, though I haven't revealed to the council about your ventures to Chino-sensei's desk drawers . . . Fukao-san . . ."
In Ryu's mind, knowing too much can be dangerous, only if he were weak to defend himself. There were days that he tried to think if knowing everything in this school could do good for him—he thought before that this would only lead him to trouble.
He wasn't that brawny to begin with—he could fight, but not against this many . . . but Kashiwagi could.
"Who would've thought you know more about their shit than I do." Kashiwagi quipped recklessly, and Ryu visibly growled at him—their enemies just gripped of their bats tighter than before. Ryu's speech, therefore, was futile, when the snakes that he wanted to charm down retaliated and bared their teeth instead.
"Nice job breaking it, hero." Ryu rolled his eyes.
"Nice job fixing it, sidekick." Kashiwagi smirked. "Doesn't matter now, Touma-san. The brawl just started, and you forgot my name. Don't forget to add me."
"No," Ryu said. "We'll end this here. I'll watch your back, so that you'll watch mine. That's most important now."
The news spread all throughout the school when the names of Touma and Kashiwagi were heard over the hallways, on the first period the next morning. If anything was worth mentioning, it was only the fact that none of those who attacked them had undergone the usual disciplinary actions over yesterday, and for the rest of the students, it was fine. Finer that no one was expelled. Finer that Kashiwagi will still be ruling over the school grounds. Finer that Touma Ryu, apprentice of the next student council president, was allied with Kashiwagi Suguru.
Somehow, balance was restored. Even though many thought that the pairing was formidable enough to induce fear to everyone.
Thirteen years ago
"I'm not surprised to find we're in the same class."
"What's surprising's that I'm still here."
"Yeah." Ryu finished their first conversation before the entrance ceremony commenced. As usual, Ryu was invited to present the incoming first years with his own acceptance speech; he was the school's highest-ranking examinee. He still tried to include himself in the entrance exam for the high school division, even though it was obvious that he could get in by ladder acceptance. But there was one thing that Ryu discovered when he investigated about the rankings of the incoming freshman students (with the help of the current student council).
Apparently, his conversation with Suguru was not yet finished. He prodded, "I heard you were second-place in the entrance exam."
The stoic Kashiwagi gave him a blank stare. It seemed that he was not surprised.
"No answer?" He propped his elbow on Kashiwagi's shoulders, as if he were a cabinet. Much to his expectations, the current champion of the school grounds did not offer any reaction to Ryu's heavy arm. He just stared at a space—everyone was busy doing their own business in the auditorium hall while waiting for the ceremony to start. Ryu tried once more, "Or are you equally surprised?"
"Fuck off." Kashiwagi replied. There was a twitch upon the left tip of Kashiwagi's mouth that Ryu immediately noticed.
"You always say the nicest things." He said, while his eyes were twinkling and the brows above them were almost reaching his hairline. Kashiwagi appeared to be surprised at how this Touma had been too much of a bother ever since last year. He was not grateful that he saved his ass long ago from the wrath of the school's administration and teachers—well, for beating some students into a pulp when he disregarded Ryu's warnings.
Touma Ryu was always perceived as a level-headed student, who could easily give smiles and laugh at anyone's jokes. The easy-going, joker, adventurous type.
"And here I am, admiring you!" Ryu joked.
Kashiwagi stopped him from snickering by giving him a deathly glare.
They were in the same class. Almost all that knew about their little history in junior high were equally astonished at the closeness these two powerhouses of the latest batch of students. At first day, everyone knew that the budding prince of Hanadera Academy would be Ryu—it won't be much far from the possibility that he would be elected into the current student council. But, this current alliance was getting too much attention.
There was Kashiwagi Suguru being close with the Prince. The person who everyone had feared—he emitted violence even with just his blank stares. They always seemed to ignite fights, but considering that he ruled the school grounds of the middle school division for three years, it won't be long for him to conquer the high school grounds.
Or, was the school grounds already prepared for him? After all, the atmosphere of the senior high school division was entirely different. There was more of the history—more of the unknown of what was happening within it. But with the Prince's association with him, would there be a change?
Because two days after the ceremony, Kashiwagi Suguru was seen with the currently elected treasurer of the supreme student council. They were in the rumored school grounds, their school uniforms dirtied, their faces sporting gashes and wounds.
Three days later, Kashiwagi was deemed as the unofficial leader of the disciplinary tribunal of the high school division. It was not officially announced, but it came as an unstoppable rumor. He was in under a tree; adjacent to it was the room where the student council meetings were held. He was allowed to do what he pleased, but that did not stop him from knowing everything that has happened inside the assembly. A student alone in the shade of his new spot under its canopy, enjoying his new view. It was different from the tree where he first found peace during middle school—this was better. And somehow, he was tailed by an unwanted entity in a form of a cheerful Ryu, who had taken a role in repeating everything that was agreed upon by the council.
Damn that treasurer and his tenacity with his fists. They settled in a draw, but at some unexplainable reason, he had been stuck with Ryu and his stupid student council.
He was still staring at the grounds when he sensed that a piece of metal was heading to the direction of his head. He swiftly caught it with his hand, but grimaced as he felt ice-cold chill dripping from his palms. "Shit."
"Sorry for that. Didn't notice your pad." Ryu grinned and disregarded Suguru's stare by opening his own can and finishing its contents into his mouth. Then he said, "Good thing it's not opened."
He was standing before a sitting Suguru, watching the latter's every move.
Kashiwagi looked at the soft-bounded pieces of Oslo papers upon his lap. His usually sharp and dark eyes somehow lessened their intensity. He swished his hand to remove the cold moisture from his hand and opened the can in precise motions.
The Prince was here to inform him about what happened in the council room. It was not a job that he required of Touma, but somehow, the latter just went to his spot after the meeting to update him. Ryu was obviously enjoying playing messenger—a deed that was totally a nuisance for Suguru. But he did not bother to ask him of his intentions anyway. As long as Suguru could be alone, then he won't give a fuck about whatever Ryu wanted to do.
"Tea?" Kashiwagi finally mouthed, questioning Ryu's accuracy for one of his preferences.
"Yeah. I guessed. No—I saw. It's the only thing you drink."
Kashiwagi raised a brow at the statement. When Ryu was still showing off his half-moon eyes and large grin, the boy sitting under the tree looked at him with complete disgust on his face. Kashiwagi looked away, staring once more to the vast fields of grasses, while Ryu started to shout a long growl. He began stomping a foot as he complained.
"F-f-fu-fuck you! No, no, no! That's not what I meant! D-d-d-don't think too highly of yourself!" Ryu grimaced back. He even managed to curse when he was not even used to it.
After several moments, Ryu stopped whining. After several moments, Suguru looked up at Ryu's tall form and muttered with a small smirk, "You say the nicest things."
Ryu snorted.
Twelve years ago
Crack!
"I'll quit."
"That's what you said a month ago."
Crack!
"Shit. I don't like this at all."
"Your work is basically just being there on the school grounds."
Crack!
"I don't like it at all."
They were in the baseball field, where a pitching machine (which Ryu himself situated for Kashiwagi's convenience) was methodically throwing a fast pitch to Suguru's direction in five-second intervals. Ryu was resting his elbows upon the mechanical pitcher, watching Kashiwagi glared at him—as if those balls being thrown were his face. Kashiwagi was eagerly batting them away into successions of homeruns—as if those were Ryu's skulls. He was easy to read this time.
"You have power, but you barely notice that. You should know that you're the reason everyone's a pacifist right now. People like peace. Students in the lower grades won't understand that, but you've been there. In the fights. It's basically a deadly wind that our school isn't willing to talk about so gladly." Ryu straightened his back from slouching, and assumed a feminine pose. He placed his hands over his chest and declared, "And besides, you have me."
Crack!
Ryu swiftly bent his neck to his right just to miss the raging ball by a hair. That was really close. He grinned and propped his elbows once more on the machine. "Maybe you should have an apprentice in the first years. Anyone who catches your eyes?"
Kashiwagi said, "None seems adequate for the dirty job."
Crack!
"Yeah. The sempai's already recruited those two large twins from Class One-A."
"They're inseparable. But I don't want them."
Crack!
"I don't think they'll like what you're saying about them."
"I just said that they don't suit the disciplinary committee. That's all."
Crack!
"Well, who knew you cared."
Crack!
"Fine! Fine! Toss me one of those helmets, would you? Why're you always aiming for the head?! No, not the groin part—hey! Do you want me to die?! If I died, I'll haunt you and your girlfriends forever and cockblock you twenty-four seven . . . !"
Today was the first time Kashiwagi was summoned to the Council room. Ryu was calmly sitting on his chair in the conference table—his eyes closed, contemplating; his lips thin, seemingly choosing the words to speak; his back straight, determined. His prediction wherein this meeting would be successful was almost nearing zero.
(He was contemplating whether he'd drop the request without any pretenses or direct Kashiwagi into a mundane conversation, then to more pressing, opinion-requiring topics, then give him the offer.)
Kashiwagi opened the door gently and propped his head through the door. He went inside and found that Ryu was the only occupant in the room. His eyes darkened, sensing that something was shady, that the sempai were supposed to be meeting him—they were the only ones that could get him to that stuffed room.
Thus the invitation: "I want you to become my VP."
The snappy decline: "Not in a million years."
As usual, the Ryu was the first to break his tough mood and grinned stupidly at his friend. "The election is near, and I need your help."
This elicited an equally stupid sneer from Kashiwagi. But he explained, "I don't think you need my help. You have enough manpower to back your campaign. You have enough supporters to fill the council. You've earned enough trust from our batch-mates and our seniors, and admiration from the kohai. You have a coherent and just manifesto for the students to look forward to. I think you have enough to win an election."
All the while, Kashiwagi was drawing circles on the wooden conference table with his index finger, his head propped on the other folded hand. His brows were almost contorted, meeting; as if it was hard for him to say those words—it sounded that he was trying so hard to drop a compliment. Even within two years of sticking with Kashiwagi's aloofness, he was not surprised at the sudden change.
Ryu's voice was low and soft. "This is not only about election, Kashiwagi-san. This is about getting the right persons for the highest-ranking jobs in the school. I think you'll be a good VP."
"You think so?" It was more of a mockery than a genuine, honest question. Kashiwagi's eyes showed boredom.
"I know so. You're even more than fit for President; how much more for the VP's?"
Kashiwagi produced a small sniff that made Ryu looked at the former's reaction—just to see if he had a chance of convincing him. But Kashiwagi said, with a smile of disbelief. "You really don't know how to aim perfect flattery, Touma-san. Again, I am not interested."
"Think about it. The school is always about security—what it means to have a normal school life without fear of our school grounds. There's so many things that I learned from you, and I know you'll help me maintain an entire school."
But then, Kashiwagi snapped him off with a quick drawl. "Don't talk politics to me."
"This is politics. And as much as you hate that subject, you never realized that it loves you. You have the talent and capabilities of using it well, without abusing it." He looked away, hiding his jealousy. He said meekly, "You may not hear this from everyone, but you're a good leader."
". . ."
He continued, "If there was a possibility that you'll run for President, I'd immediately back down. That is how I rely to and trust your abilities. And you know, I don't give my trust that easy."
"Yes, you do."
The orange hue of the setting sun was permeating through the curtains and glass windows of the office. Ryu was watching it with private gloom on his face that he rarely showed to others. Maybe because Kashiwagi was the only person in the room—his only friend that could easily rid him off? The only person who wasn't as flattering and gratuitous as others. The only person who could see past the wide grin and deceiving confidence.
Ryu admitted, "They may think that, but I don't. There's always some avenue for doubt. Except for your case."
"I still don't want it."
"If you'd be bothered by the campaign process, I'll take that responsibility. You'll be just there with me. I'll speak for you."
Surugu stood up, ruffling the hem of his untidy gray uniform as he moved from his seat. "No one will speak for me. When did you get so sly, Touma-san? I know why I exist in this school. You always want me there because it backs your authority. I am a pawn to your ambitions."
Ryu looked away from the window to face him. "I . . . I can't deny that. But I have a vision for this school. At least, even just for a year, I want to see it happen."
Suguru's back was facing Ryu.
"You're cool, Touma-san. But think this: you cannot always mask your plans, all to appear tough. Sometimes a pawn knows his chess master more than the chess master himself. Sometimes a pawn knows why he's a pawn. There are two things why he does what you want him to do: either he likes being your pawn, or that he's just waiting for the moment to strike your back. Appearing so laid back will be the end of you."
Ryu expected this advice from him. It was based from Kashiwagi's experience.
"And what do you think are you, Kashiwagi-san? Do you think you're my pawn?"
Kashiwagi faced him and formed a proud, smug smirk as his eyelids covered a third of his irises. "Not at all. Like I said, I back your authority. That's a different thing."
Ryu smiled back, suddenly, honestly proud of Kashiwagi. "See? I told you. You'll be a good leader."
Kashiwagi realized that he became too talkative. He should have not said anything. He knew that once he talked, he'd be caught in a trap as tough as a spider's web. Touma Ryu excelled in catching people with words. Anything that was said and would be said would be used against.
He was annoyed by the move, but it was expected—he did not hide his irritation. But now, he'd make sure he wouldn't drop any promise.
"Just because I understand you, you assumed that I'll be a good VP? Fuck that."
Eleven years ago
"You don't have to intimidate him! He was just a first year, for God's sake."
"Yeah, and why don't you do my job?"
He gruffly pushed Kashiwagi by the chest with both of his arms, as if eliciting a fight. But for them, it was just a forceful tug to shake Kashiwagi out of his rather-unfocused consciousness. "Seriously, can you just be . . . nice? Even though that boy was especially unmindful of the school's traditions, you should have just played it cool. Who cares if he couldn't decide which affiliation he should apply? He'll still be making a decision later on."
At that moment, the argument was closed. There was no reason to fight over a stubborn first year, who still had his black student notebook untainted with either white or red colors—separately symbolizing the cultural and sports organizations in this academic institution. The boy with rich brown spikes had walked away after Ryu stopped Suguru from menacing him.
Ryu sighed as he fisted onto Kashiwagi's arm, mocking a punch, "I understand that you take your job seriously, but I think you're getting tired of this . . . well, this has been your third year in the tribunal. Do you need a break? I'll assign another for this responsibility, if that suits you."
Kashiwagi was now participating in a staring event. "You just want me not to resign as your VP."
"I'm not denying that." Ryu muttered rather quickly. "But, I remembered: you, too, weren't assigned into any club. Your student notebook is still black. Why're you pestering that boy, if you're guilty of your own reprimand?"
Kashiwagi said nothing, and turned away to the direction of his favorite tree. Ryu soon followed, and both of them paced upon the well-populated grounds with equal footing, watching the studentry in their liveliest gaits. No one was now afraid of the rulers of the school grounds. Everyone seemed satisfied that no bully was parading around the halls, causing mayhem to others.
Perhaps Kashiwagi was tired of being feared. Ryu sensed that in him.
Two days later, Kashiwagi Suguru took an apprentice. He happened to be that boy with chestnut-hair of spikes, who had his student notebook bared black.
The boy's name was Fukuzawa Yuuki.
"You're going away?"
"Yeah. There's no reason for me to be in Musashino. My parents—Kashiwagi-sama had been very good to me, but they're not here anymore. I can't pay back their kindness."
Ryu noticed a slight flaw in the fortress that Kashiwagi had built to protect his personal life. It was known that his parents had died in an accident a month ago. But he never said a word about it. Strong as it seemed before, he paved for a flicker of light to his walls, even for a moment. He always appeared to be brooding—if there was something that had changed since his parents had died, he did not show it. He did not want sympathy, it seemed. He was the only left Kashiwagi.
And with that, he can go anywhere—if he had no attachment to anyone anymore. He could go anywhere.
Ryu asked, "Where will you be going?"
For the seldom of times, Kashiwagi was in the council room, sitting where he was supposed to be sitting during council meeting. He was slouched, and he seemed to be investigating minute details of the conference table. His dominant hand was poised as if he was writing, but its course along the plane was uncertain. It was shaky.
He snorted, "Who knows? It's not you to be asking personal questions."
Ryu was sitting adjacent to him, watching his every move. "It's not you to answer lies. You have something in mind."
"Of course, I have."
"Are you going to a university?"
"I am."
(He was resilient; he must have thought of something to finance his college schooling.)
But he ignored his thoughts and tried to sustain the conversation without putting Suguru off. "I am, too. In Hanadera Uni. Hardly going anywhere."
But he did not sense any reaction from his friend.
He did not want to feel so clingy to Kashiwagi; they were never that close anyway. Yet, he wanted to know that he'd be seeing his friend, to know how he was fairing being alone, now that his parents were gone and he was about to enter college. Even though they both belong to the student council, seldom did Kashiwagi come for his assistance. He was just outside the grounds with his apprentice and, somehow, Kashiwagi knew just what to do without any assistance. Ryu respected his individuality, his freedom, and the exploitation of his privileges after he took the vice-presidency, but he sometimes wanted to see more of Kashiwagi outside their roles in the council, his precedence over the school grounds, him sitting on that favorite tree with his sketchpad on his lap.
"So, am I going to hear from you after graduation? Soon?"
"Probably."
On Ryu's hands were two cans of ice-cold green tea. He threw it rather forcefully than before, than how he used to. But he knew that even though he put much more force in throwing the goddamn thing to Kashiwagi's face, the latter would not notice—the inflection of force that declaimed Ryu's sadness over Kashiwagi being such an insensitive bitch. He was having a terrible time saying goodbye to his friend because he knew that his answers—whenever he's going away—would be worse than the amount to filth.
But he did catch it, anyway. As Ryu expected, Suguru just caught the rocketing can with ease with one hand. The way he casually opened it and captured the liquid with his mouth signaled that he did not even bother to tell the truth. Even if it were ambiguous.
But Ryu understood. It was not as if he couldn't read Kashiwagi. It was not as if they settle their conversations without frankness. It was not as if Ryu was nothing to him. It was not as if they're not friends.
But he knew, he could trust his own instincts. Kashiwagi would seldom tell what he felt.
He knew that Kashiwagi wanted to act normal, as if graduation wasn't tomorrow. That the prospect of meeting him again after tomorrow would be possible. And soon.
Ryu nudged Kashiwagi from his spot—it was more of a shove. He broke a grin on his face. He raised his can of tea when he saw Kashiwagi's face dimmed with irritation.
"It's not you to answer lies."
"Kampai."
"Kampai!"
Tink.
{AFTERMATH}
Present Day
Long, wavy tresses of light brown struggled against the wind as the person slid her doors open for her visitor. She engaged a feeble, shy smile at her as stepped sideways to make way. She closed the door with a small thud as she watched her visitor casually removed her shoes and arranged them in the foyer with her feet—sliding them to a corner. She put her duffle bag upon the wall, which the chestnut-haired woman picked up to deposit it on one of the couches in a traditionally furnished apartment. The couch was solely for that certain visitor.
After she dropped the duffle bag on the couch, that visitor reached for her shoulders and ruffled her hair, which did nothing to disturb its neat waves. Then, she placed a kiss on her head.
She was glad that she was here. She was happy that she visited. She was happy that she was going to stay for a while. But she was worried of her. Of her reasons for being here.
She could see worry in her eyes, as if she was stuck in a complicated mathematical puzzle. She wore the same expression when she encountered one during high school. Being her little sister was enough for her notice beyond what she was showing.
As usual, she asked her if she could prepare the bath for her. Or dinner. She declined food, but she wanted the bath. With a string of additional requests, that she should join her, while they talk of mundane stuff.
She made it clear that she won't do anything inappropriate with her little sister. That little sister, however, did not say anything to evoke such declaration of assurance. But she chuckled anyway—the big sister seldom said those to her before.
Whatever the weight that has been saddling by her grande soeur's heart, she could not point it out, nor induce her to spill it. But whatever it was, she knew how it wore her out.
It is not her problem. Although she wanted to help, she was in no position to interfere.
It was also the reason they were sisters, after all.
But in small ways, such as washing her long hair and scrubbing clean the smooth planes of her ivory back, she would make her feel better.
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N:
For sundayevehero: my other stories are progressing in a much slower pace than this one, but if inspiration hit me one of these days, then I could add another chapter in How They Wish It Was Raining. You can request for kinkmeme for any pairing, just to give me a head-start. XD As for the dynamics between Ryu and Sachiko, it's not the same as the chap9 in HTWIWR. They are not as honest Suguru and Sachiko, not as transparent. The proper description for Ryu/Sachiko would be subtle. No taunts, no provoking actions or words. I really want to know what you think, so if you're still interested, you can PM me. XD
A/N2: I just want to convey my appreciation to all who read this chapter. I know that Ryu and Kashiwagi's bond isn't the most popular in this story, but I stubbornly included them anyway. In a way, I presented something of Kashiwagi through Ryu's entries and I had no regrets about it. I made this character, and I am going to stick with him. Kashiwagi too.
Although it has been a month since I updated, I hope that the readers would still tell me what they think of this new development. Publishing the unabridged version of a story in my one-shot series was successful enough, and I appreciated those who read it! Even though I haven't been active for two weeks after that last update, I hope that this new addition would give me much more encouragement to continue my work. It's tough when you were stuck for ideas but with your help and encouragement, I'll make it!
So, I beg reviews for the Ryu/Kashiwagi dynamics. Please? Tell me what you think.