"See you later," Houjou waved. Her last words before she walked away from Hamaguchi and towards her apartment. Hamaguchi looked on with a frown on his face and dulled eyes. As Houjou strolled into the horizon, Hamaguchi pronounced judgment on himself, declaring with resignation, "I really am a wuss." He turned his head towards the gloomy, grey sky and groaned. He paused for a second before he cried out to the skies, "Nishikata... I hope you do better!" Immediately afterwards, Hamaguchi lowered his head level with the horizon. He shuffled his feet, turned his body left, and trudged towards home.
Hamaguchi trudged along the gray path towards his home, his head hanging down somberly. With every other step, Hamaguchi let out a deep sigh. In the middle of his listless trod, Hamaguchi's heavy eyes caught sight of a colourful poster plastered onto a wooden wall. The poster featured a man wearing the trademark Samurai Blue jersey, dribbling a Brazuca ball on the green pitch. The man on the poster was Hamaguchi's idol, Shinji Okazaki. Considered the best Japanese striker of his generation, Okazaki made a name for himself playing for Leicester City in the English Premier League.
Hamaguchi feebly arose from his hunched posture to look upon his idol. He could only muster a perfunctory gaze before slinking his head downwards in shame. A Premier League match he watched late into the night played in his mind. One highlight, in particular, became a victorious memory for Hamaguchi, a fleeting picture of Okazaki's bicycle kick goal that sealed the 1-0 victory against Newcastle United. Once Okazaki scored the goal, the memory faded into the voices of cheering crowds.
"Okazaki-senpai... How can I think of looking at you now? I can't even say a few simple words to my special someone," Hamaguchi sighed drearily. He could only imagine his idol standing beside him, arms crossed, shaking his head in disappointment.
Hamaguchi looked up at his idol and also shook his head at his predicament, covered with shame. Hamaguchi let out a heavy growl, clenching his hand to his heart and gnashing his teeth in anguish. Then, in a flash, his imagination took his thoughts hostage, now playing yet another scene in his mind...
Hamaguchi was now inside a world-class stadium and in the middle of the 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa. On the pristine, grassy football pitch, a match between South Korea and Nigeria was underway. The only catch was that Hamaguchi and his classmates were Team Nigeria. It was the 66th minute, and Nigeria was down 2-1. Nishikata just made a forward run on the left side of the pitch. Kimura had just passed an incisive ball towards Nishikata. Once Nishikata reached the ball, he immediately whipped a low cross to the centre of the penalty box, 1 yard out from the net. Hamaguchi, standing in front of the goalkeeper, could see Nishikata pass the ball to him from his left flank. Almost immediately afterwards, he heard Nishikata shout,
"Hamaguchi, take the shot! You're right there!" Hamaguchi gasped at Nishikata's sudden shout. While sticking his foot out, he saw the rolling soccer ball transform into Houjou's face. Hamaguchi let out a loud shriek of horror and stuck his foot out without thinking. Instead of kicking the ball into the back of the net, he steered it directly to the left of the goalpost. Seeing the ball zip wide of the net, Hamaguchi immediately placed his hands on his head and let out a loud groan of utter defeat. Then, he heard the announcer exclaim,
"Ohh, it was an easy chance! How on Earth has Hamaguchi not confessed yet?" The announcer relished in his astonishment and continued to shout, "The shot was virtually unmissable! Simply staggering!"
Hamaguchi could barely keep himself standing with all his thoughts swirling around like a raging typhoon. He rapidly scanned his surroundings, clamouring for a place to sit. His eyes zoned in on a lone bench on the side of the road. He slumbered towards and threw himself onto the bench to take a seat. Sitting on the bench, he took a few deep breaths, slid his hands across his face, and hunched forward in despair.
"How am I going to tell Nishikata I didn't confess when I acted so lion-hearted today?!" Hamaguchi wailed, his hands still plastered over his face. Just then he envisioned three wisps of smoke emitting different colours from the recesses of his mind. One of them was putrid green, another fire red, and the last navy blue. The wisps swirled through Hamaguchi's mind incessantly, harassing him every chance they could. As the wisps billowed and seethed, each of them mimicked Houjou's voice with their distinct tones.
"Oh Hamaguchi, you really are an idiot," the green wisp chortled, "you had your chance, and you missed!" the mischievous, mocking wisp continued. Immediately afterwards, the fiery red wisp projected Houjou's fiery tongue,
"Hamaguchi, what were you thinking when you decided to give me Ghiradellis for White Day? You've angered me with such a pithy offering! You will pay for this!" Immediately afterwards, the dark blue wisp took its turn to torture Hamaguchi. The last wisp projected Houjou's tears which flowed more violently than a tsunami,
"Hamaguchi, don't I mean anything to you at all?! I thought you liked me, but clearly, you don't care about me!" The three wisps continued snickering, hissing, and crying to him within his foggy mind. Hamaguchi felt tears streaming down his face as his heart raced and his breathing paced faster and faster. He let out one more wail, jumped up from his seat, and ran off towards home crying,
"No Houjou, none of that's true! I love you!" Hamaguchi blundered towards home. His vision became blurred with shades of gray and brown mixed with the three wisps tormenting his soul. In his running, he failed to notice any of the other pedestrians shouting at his turbulent behaviour. All he could think about was his failed confession, how he had disappointed his footballing idol, and how he disappointed Houjou with his failed confession.
Hamaguchi had no idea how much time had passed, but it mattered little to him. After seeing his world go into a murky blur, he finally made out the outlines of his home just ahead. Hamaguchi abruptly ceased his running, stood still in front of his home, and bent down with his hands grasping his knees. Hamaguchi felt streaks of sweat forming on his forehead and his shirt. He felt his heart pumping furiously, and he respired heavily after his frantic journey.
After taking a few minutes to recover his breathing, Hamaguchi slowly walked into the entrance to his home. There, his mother greeted him with a look that would make any man cower.
"Hamaguchi, how many times do I have to tell you to clean your room?!" His mother shouted fiercely. Her piercing eyes glared at Hamaguchi's near-lifeless face, "Every time I walk by your room, I see your door swung partly open and your stuff cluttered everywhere!" Hamaguchi's mother continued. Her flailing arms were aimed at Hamaguchi, augmenting her verbal tirade.
"Yes mom, I'll go up and clean my room now," Hamaguchi murmured dismissively. Hamaguchi heard her mother humph in frustration, but he shrugged it off. Hamaguchi spotted a lone handkerchief on a side table and wiped off the sweat from his forehead and face. He hunched over miserably, loosely holding the handrails and trudging up the wooden stairs to his bedroom. At the top of the stairs, Hamaguchi turned his head up towards the brown, wooden door acting as the gateway to his bedroom. Seeing that the door was closed, Hamaguchi grumbled, "So, my mom snuck in my room again..." He shook his head with frustration and grunted, "Just when I thought my day couldn't get any more tiring too, huh?" Hamaguchi placed his right hand on the brass doorknob and gently turned it to the left. He then carefully pushed the door open with his hand still holding the doorknob.
He only managed to open the door halfway. By then, a pressure emanated from the door, opposing Hamaguchi's attempts to open the door any further. Hamaguchi closed his eyes and pushed on the door with all his might. His efforts ended in vain, the wooden door refusing to budge any further. Hamaguchi veered his head around the door to inspect the other side.
Hamaguchi feigned a meek chuckle once he noticed the plastic box filled with LEGO bricks on the other side of the door. Hamaguchi then turned his head towards the rest of his room. Manga books were scattered all across his bed, some of which were flipped upside down. His hero action figures lay abandoned on the floor like helpless commoners. The metal trash can under his work desk was filled to the brim with crumpled pieces of paper and used tissues. His bookshelf was filled with stuffed pieces of paper without a recognizable filing system to distinguish a homework assignment from his drawings. Lastly, his framed Samurai Blue jersey signed by Shinji Okazaki tilted towards the right, about to fall to its demise at any moment.
Hamaguchi betrayed an abashed face, his eyes wandering towards the ceiling and his mouth letting off another sheepish chuckle.
"Maybe my mom has a point," Hamaguchi gawked, "I should probably start cleaning up my room. It'll help me keep my mind off Houjou for now," Hamaguchi concluded, retaining a more serious look as he snuck through the half-opened doorway into his room. Once inside his room, Hamaguchi traversed through his action figures to his bed. Once he stood by the bedside, he picked up his manga books. One by one he picked up each manga book, tiptoed through his countless action figures, and placed each book back on his bookshelf on the other side of his room.
When he picked up the last manga book from his bed, a folded white piece of paper fell from the manga's pages on top of the white bedsheet. Hamaguchi tilted his head, turning his attention towards the piece of paper lying on his bed.
"Huh... what could this be?" Hamaguchi pondered quizzically. He extended his arm towards the folded paper and picked it up. He then unwrapped the piece of paper, forming small rips on the sides of the paper in the process. With a bit of a humph and grunt, Hamaguchi unfolded the piece of paper. The piece of paper was lined with horizontal blue lines crossed with a vertical red line at the paper's left side. The page's header was inscribed, in blue ink, the kanji characters for "Curry Recipe". The page was filled with small pink hearts that fluttered the writing like plucked harp strings.
Hamaguchi flopped down onto his bed and let his head sink into a plush pillow on the wall. Once he reclined himself against the wall, he glanced through the curry recipe. As Hamaguchi inspected the recipe, he began to recall an event that occurred on their class's camping trip...
The sun began to meld softly into the horizon, emitting lustrous hues of orange and yellow. Evergreen trees dotted the humble grassy campground, creating a restful, picturesque atmosphere. The grounds were filled with rows of wooden tables and benches situated near a group of tents. The campground was populated with middle school students wearing their blue camping uniforms and chattering amongst themselves. Every student walked towards the disposal area to clean their dishes, save for two.
Hamaguchi remained in place at a bench away from the rest of the students. He let out a wide, contented smile at the curry meal he just finished. It mattered little that the vegetable and potato chunks were not cut finely enough. It mattered little that those same pieces looked far too crunchy to have been cooked properly. It mattered little that the curry sauce looked too watery. After all, the chef who prepared his dish walked up to him with a demure smile.
Having cleaned her dishes, Houjou arrived from the other side of the campground. With a warm, adoring smile, she took her seat on the wooden bench across Hamaguchi. She gently tugged her black camping bag onto the wooden bench and placed it on her right side. She leaned forward, planted her shoulders on the table, and placed her hands on her face.
"Hamaguchi, what did you think of my curry tonight?" Houjou asked giddily with a light giggle. Hamaguchi looked up from his bowl and at her smiling face. With Houjou sitting in line with the horizon, her face brightly shone with the setting sun. Hamaguchi's eyes gazed at her face with a deepening blush on his cheeks. He began to stutter, feeling his heart tighten and his scalp give off droplets of sweat. With a wide-open smile, Hamaguchi slowly lifted his shaking index finger and pointed it at her face.
"Hamaguchi, is there something on my face?" Houjou asked with an urgent gasp. In response, Houjou promptly shuffled her hands into her bag. She swiftly picked up a pink, oval-shaped hand mirror by the handle. Tilting her mirror back and forth, Houjou examined her face with piercing precision for what seemed like an eternity to Hamaguchi. Hamaguchi trembled as Houjou let out a gentle, contemplative grunt. The longer Houjou examined her face, the more her mirror reflected a deepening blush. Upon seeing her face turn tomato red, Houjou opened her mouth wide, pointed her right index finger straight at Hamaguchi, and hollered, "Hamaguchi, there is nothing on my face!" Hamaguchi gasped, but continued to stutter, struggling to place the right words in a hurried effort to explain himself.
Before he could say another word, Houjou delivered a fiery question to his face, "Were you trying to prank me?" Houjou humphed again with great annoyance. Hamaguchi's eyes screamed pleas for mercy, internally wishing that Houjou would understand his plight. In the end, Hamaguchi's silent pleas fell flat as Houjou gave him a cold glare.
"You really are a jerk, you know that?" Houjou retorted with a humph, "Anyway, I'll see you at the campfire dance," Houjou finished tersely with a disgusted look on her face. She got up from her seat, hoisted her camping bag, and walked away. Hamaguchi was left to smack his head face-first onto the wooden table in anguish...
Hamaguchi's face reddened with frustration after recalling Houjou's response. Now he remembered where he received the curry recipe! He immediately curled himself into a ball on his bed, unfurling the white bedsheets he made this morning.
"Damn it, now I remember! She dropped her curry recipe onto the table while scrambling for her mirror! And I never gave her curry recipe back!" Hamaguchi screamed with his eyes firmly shut. Immediately after his scream, he heard a series of thumping steps from the staircases that grew louder and louder. In a quick moment, Hamaguchi turned his head to his room's doorway and found his mother giving out a deep frown and forming a face as red as fire.
"Hamaguchi, what's with all your screaming?! Keep your voice down and clean up the rest of your room already!" Hamaguchi's mother exhorted, pointing her finger shrewdly at her son. She then let out a deep, resigned grunt and walked back down the stairs. Hamaguchi promptly got up from his bed and sat up sluggishly. His head slumped downwards, his eyes gazing towards the wooden floor filled with action figures. He then let out one more deep sigh.
"Well, guess I'll have to clean my room some more," Hamaguchi uttered with resignation. Seeing his action figures scattered around the floor, Hamaguchi feebly rose from his bed and picked up his action figures one at a time. Hamaguchi sorted through each one repetitively and placed them back on top of the wooden shelf. After about 5 minutes of picking them all up, Hamaguchi could finally see the wooden floor underneath his feet.
After Hamaguchi placed his final action figure back on the shelf, he turned his head towards his work desk. Unlike the rest of his room, his desk was spotless except for the singular Moiji black chocolate box on top. With more of his room cleaned, Hamaguchi walked to his desk, pulled up his black office chair, and took his seat.
Whatever became of the chocolates themselves mattered little, for Hamaguchi already feasted on the chocolates on the night of Valentine's Day. However, Hamaguchi kept the chocolate box close to his side as a reminder of what he perceived to be Houjou's true feelings.
Hamaguchi gently examined the chocolate box, as if it were made of diamonds. Hamaguchi let his mind wander to the moment Houjou struggled to explain her burnt chocolate fiasco. "I... I burnt those chocolates..." Houjou's angelic voice replayed in his mind, "I only took my eyes off of them for a second!" Houjou's voice continued.
Hamaguchi tilted the empty box back and forth. He remembered the moment he put the pieces together on Valentine's Day. He remembered feeling the jolt of electricity, the spark that penetrated his mind in a flash. "It was all so obvious then..." He recalled with a tinge of regret in his voice. "The chocolates that Houjou gave me were romantic..." Hamaguchi groaned aloud in vain. He contorted his arms in exasperation and placed his hands on his forehead. He then let out a loud wail as if he was being twisted apart for his sheer incompetence.
"I really do think she loves me... but why can't I act on it?" Hamaguchi cried out in frustration. Having no answer for his own question, Hamaguchi could only plant his head face down on his desk with a thud and stay motionless. He remained in that position for what seemed like an eternity, punishing himself for his inaction.
Hamaguchi merely let out a deep sigh. He slowly put his empty chocolate box down and slid it to the far side of his desk. He slowly got up from his desk and pushed the chair inward. He surveyed the rest of his room, looking down to see his trash can still filled with crumpled pieces of paper and tissues and seeing his LEGO boxes still stashed behind his bedroom door.
All Hamaguchi could do now was let out another sigh of resignation. From there, Hamaguchi continued to clean up the rest of the room, unaware of what was to come the very next day...