"How's school?"
Baji looked up from his plate to meet brown eyes— the shade of pottery clay— looking back at him. Xochitl rested her cheeks in the cup of her palm as an aura of nonchalance surrounded her. It was Wednesday; half-day, so she had a longer shift (and break) than usual. She didn't tell him this. But being a regular, he started to memorize her timetable, out of necessity, of course! She was one of the few who knew that he likes extra gravy on his rice without asking. But back to the question: Baji chewed slowly. What should he say? It was rarely that Xochitl asked him questions. And he wished he had something thoughtful (funny even) to say. He could see that she was losing interest as her eyes strayed to the window.
"It's good." A lie. But she didn't have to know that. Xochitl just hummed.
"…I just wished that the teachers weren't so overbearing," Baji heard himself saying as he played with his spoon. He could feel her attention hot on him.
"I guess that's what they are paid to do. But I understand you, they can be so…nosey?" Xochitl paused and he knew she was going over the words that she had just said. Satisfied she hummed.
Nosey was a better word for putting it. His friends had suggested another name for it 'ケツメド野郎' or 'ムカつく': Fucking assholes.
"Yeah, I wish they just mind their own business." ("There was nothing wrong with him, no need to inspect him so.") This he didn't say. Xochitl doesn't need to know that. Not ever.
He tapped his feet.
Last week's consultation with his principal was a day he wished he could go back and erase. He should have known that something was wrong the moment his homeroom teacher asked him to stay back. A smile on her painted lips. She hated Baji. Not that she had ever told him before. However, he sees it. She cannot wait for him to be gone in the coming spring. To be another person's problem. He remembered giving Mikey a look as the other boy shrugged his shoulders. Giving him permission to go ahead. He would wait.
Baji instantly regretted his decision. Should have given her the finger and ran off with Mikey. It would not be the first he did so. And even if they do manage to punish him. The teachers have been pliable with him. Ever since they learned about his current home condition. The look in their eyes was replaced with pity. It made him sick. He prefered it before. The look of peeve and disgust. "They would not amount to nothing." Who cares about such frivolous things? Not him. Not when he and his friends can ride about in downtown Shibuya, free.
The last time he would doubt the feeling of dread twisting in his chest.
In the room, his homeroom teacher escorted to, sat the principal, the counsellor, and his mother. They asked him to sit. Baji does so begrudgingly. He hated how they looked at him, like some science experiment. Waiting for him to react: to explode. To shout. To cry. He tapped his feet. Most of all, he hated this silence. Recently, it seemed Baji wanted everlasting chaos. For him to scoop it up, place it in a sack and carry it around on his back. And whenever the silence began to become overbearing, he would retreat into the sack. Safe. It was not like he was hiding. A coward, he was and would never be. But…but—
"It comes to our attention that Baji-san's condition has worsened over the months," the principal paused as he looked at the counsellor, then his mother. She dwindled with her purse strap. Weak. The principal cleared his throat and continued. "We made a commitment back in June, before the break, that there would be an assessment before the third and final term of the school year. To see if he is capable to matriculate to middle school. We have concluded that with proper guidance he can move onwards. However, he will have to attend sessions with Namiki-sensei for his disorder."
Baji tapped his feet. He wasn't needed for this; his mother was just enough. Nevertheless, he didn't mention this. Staring at the clock, he hoped that Mikey was still waiting for him. He could hear his mother thanking both the principal and counsellor for their kindness. Bullshit. She didn't need to bow to the likes of them. There was nothing to be thankful about, he was doing fine. There was nothing wrong with him. ("You're default!").
The queasy feeling returned to his stomach.
"There is no need for such politeness. I know it must be difficult at home, for you both."
He hated how that sounded. He didn't need their sympathy. Why can't adults leave him be? He was fine, goddammit!
"With everything that had happened, in addition to Keisuke-san attention disorder, it must be demanding. It's why the principal and I had decided that starting January. Keisuke would be attending sessions with me," the counsellor continued. "With a few sessions, I am certain that we can correct his—"
Baji didn't like how that sounded. He didn't like what it was implying. There was nothing wrong with him. He didn't need to be corrected. He wasn't broken. He wasn't default. ("He's default!"). "My father is wrong; I am not default!" Baji didn't remember thinking those words. This was someone else talking for him, using him as the medium.
Silence. He saw how they looked at him. The look that border pity and condescending. It leaves a horrible feeling within. A feeling that itched and needed to be badly scratched. To scratch at it until it raw and burned. And when you take a closer look—nose touching the skin—you'll see round-pelted blood ebbing to the surface. It was a feeling that was resolved to tear you apart. Baji didn't listen to his mother as she called for him back. Instead, he just hoped that Mikey was waiting for him.
A tapping at the table was what broke him from his remising. It seemed Xochitl was humming a song, tapping her finger to the beat. She was looking at him, eyebrows pulled in a furrow and an emotion he had never seen before in her eyes. Baji wasn't too sure how he felt about it. But he felt a bit deflated when it disappeared. He wished she did act upon it.
What she said next brought a good distraction from the unsettling feeling that began to burn inside his stomach.
"School had become tense since the talk of exams. It was so odd. One moment all everyone talks about is clubs. And the next everyone talking about is night school. It is so different back home. Is this what they call culture shock?" The last part said to herself, finger tapping on her chin as she looked up, thoughtfully.
Baji didn't know what to say. But he didn't want to lose the sudden fire of this conversation, so he said, quickly. "I am certain that you will do well on your exams." He meant that. After his countless visit, over the week. Her (their) table have been filled with an array of textbooks. Ranging from Japanese history to Mathematics. Xochitl seemed diligent, more than he could say about himself or his friends otherwise. Another reason why he would never tell her about his disorder. He doesn't want her to see him as broken. Fear that it would push her apart (albeit, they had just recently talked) like his—
Xochitl looked at him. Then smile. Nothing special. Nothing as extraordinary, as the one that night at the festivities. But it did something to him. He wondered if he could ever make her laugh just as how that boy did. He had asked her about that night, hoping she would let slip who it was, but she seemed tight-lipped about it. Or perhaps, he didn't phrase his question properly. Should he be more direct? But he didn't want to appear so forward, especially with her. Why does the fairer sex have to be so complicated? A simple fistfight with his friends usually solved everything.
Baji asked her if she invite anyone special to the festivities the previous week. He watched how she paused, eyes looking up thoughtfully, going over his words. She answered more quickly than usual. "Not exactly. I mentioned it in class, and I have told Hemera and Henri." His heart sunk at that. To think she remembered them. However, to be fair they were her friends. Then, what was he?
She must have seen the emotion that flickered across his face as she said, "It must have slipped my mind, but I was sure I have told you or at least Yamal did."
For now, he would forgive. She does appear regretful as her lip purse and brows knitted. More emotional than usual banking in her eyes. He fanned his hands as though he wanted to bat away her words, "It's fine. Although, it was a bit sad that those two didn't attend."
Xochitl perked up at that, head tilted. "They did, Los Finados is an entire day celebration. They came in the morning with me to church. They leave around the same time you arrived. Curfew they said..."
Huh? They spent the entire day, church? She continued. "…Henri is such a lousy dancer, but I will give him an A for effort. Say, you finish?" she pointed at his plate, his food no doubt had gotten cold by now. But Baji had long since lost his appetite. He nodded his head. She tilted her head, bemused. She opened her mouth to say something, but she didn't. One step closer and a dozen step backwards, this was what he felt now as she gathered his plate.
Just as before she was going to leave, she stopped. Shifting from one foot to another. Finally, she turned to him: "Say, I will be free Saturday in the coming weeks. How about just me and you go to that music store that you suggested?"
His heart thumped against his ribs. Heat tingled in the tip of his ears. Baji would love that. He said yes and then Xochitl smiled. Again, it wasn't any special. Especially compared to that night. But it was a start.
Baji decided not to go home that night. The purring of his bike was too intoxicating to quit now. The last time all six of them looked at the time, it was eight-thirty. They were on the border of Meguro and Shibuya. He was half-tempted to drive to Naka-Meguro. However, Xochitl had not given her address or her number. Should he ask her for that at the next meet? He then remembered her words a week earlier.
"How about just me and you go to that music store that you suggested?"
Just the two of them, no Hemera. No Henri (finally!). Baji couldn't wait until November was over. All the others shared the same sentiment. Albeit, for a different reason than his.
"Just a couple a month's more until April. Then we'll be middle schoolers," said Draken. Fire in his eyes. Or it could be the light from the city skyline.
"Thinking of getting a tattoo," said Kazutora after a minute had passed.
Draken seemed exciting about that, Mitsuya as well as he asked him if he wanted to sketch it for him.
"What kind?" Baji found himself asking.
A pause. "A tiger."
They awed. Mitsuya suggested a stencil sketch tattoo. They began to debate on the style when they were cut off.
"And a perm!" Kazutora almost shouted. The others supported his idea with reverential expressions. Whilst Baji tried to stifle his laughter.
A perm would be horrible on him. He doesn't have the face for it. Baji once told Kazutora he had a genteel face. The opposite of the koi hitto [1] he tried to portray. (Xochitl have a koi hitto face, like Yoko Ono. Especially with her eyebrows.). He was going to tell him this when a band of high schoolers drove by. The exhaust of their modified Datsun was popping in the air.
The light flashed red, giving them ample time to admire their design. Draken's eyes lit with a light hat that only rivalled the ones when he was talking about his bike or when Mikey talked (complained) about Emma. Or whenever she was around (which was more frequent than usual). They all teased him about it. Telling him how foolish he was. Baji too. It was not like the other girl doesn't share the same feeling for him. For one, Emma doesn't brush her hair a hundred time and wear watermelon lip balm whenever he visited their dojo.
Draken would then turn to him when the teasing had reached a brink, that he too was at fault. That he should come clear with Xochitl. How ridiculous. What he had with her was different. For one, Baji hadn't noticed Xochitl making an extra effort to seem more appealing when he was around (granted, he mostly interacted with her during working hours). Perchance, she wasn't that type of girl. But he was fortunate enough to catch a glimpse of her more mellowed side at the festivities. Lipstick, hair decorated with flowers, a permanent smile (one that showed teeth!). Did she do it for that boy, the stranger under the streetlight, like some sweet Casanova? Baji shook his head. He mustn't think like that. Besides, he doesn't like Xochitl like how Draken like Emma. (He was very attentive to his emotions when he wanted). Baji just admired her. When he told his friends this, they just gave him an exasperated look in response. Like they have been over this before: "You fool." "You're still in denial." "It's why she doesn't talk to you that much. You don't even have her number." "I bet you don't know her favourite colour." "She will continue to see you as just a customer and nothing else if you continue."
As if. Xochitl promised to go to the music store with just him. He was certain she just doesn't go around giving such an invitation to other customers. Does she? "They came in the morning with me to church." And she danced with those drunken boys, kissed them on the cheek. "…Henri is such a lousy dancer, but I will give him an A for effort." Xochitl did all that and she didn't even remember to invite him to the festivities. So, who to say they weren't wrong—
The light flashed green, and Baji saw the glint of disappointment banking in Draken's eyes when the driver pooped their head out of the window and locked eyes with them.
"Nice ride," he said, nudging his friend beside him. Another from the back poke their head around. Staring at them as well.
It might as well be gold that came from his mouth when he said those words as Darken and the others looked on. The boy had a perm and a spider tattoo that stretched from his neck, down under his collar. Kazutora perked up.
He continued, "Yokohama?"
Mikey was the one who spoke up, "Shibuya."
Silence. Then a snort. The light flashed red when they interrupted into a peal of laughter. Through heavy breaths, the older boy then said: "What a fucking joke. Some bunch of preschoolers' wannabes—" (The queasy feeling returned in Baji's stomach) "—Don't you guys have a designated bedtime to follow. Look, we'll let you off this time, but don't you dare show your faces here again. Or we'll fucking kill you."
Before anyone of them could get a word in they sped off. One of them threw an unlit Molotov at them. Luckily it didn't break. It rolled down the asphalt. To the sidewalk halting at Baji's foot. He picked it up.
"What is their problem?" Mitsuya.
Draken piped in as well. "And to think they were cool…"
He didn't hear the rest of their complaining. Mikey must have seen the look on his face. Which was expected. It was the same look he wore when they were children, and he got this brilliant idea about staying out late than usual. Or stirring up trouble on the playground hogging the monkey bar for themselves. Baji also knew that Mikey was up for whatever he had planned and just hope he carried Shinichiro's lighter in his pocket like always. They tried to smoke once after years of watching Shinichiro. After a few minutes of coaxing from Mikey, they stole one of his lighter. Acquiring it and the cigarettes was much easier than expected. The two giddily hid behind the dojo, hastily lighting the end. They instantly regretted their decision after. Since they almost meet their end choking on the smoke, besides it was bitter to taste. Like a chewing bunch of leaves. Ever since they made a vow to never smoke again. And Mikey kept that lighter in his pocket as their memento.
"You have the lighter?" asked Baji.
Mikey searched his pocket. In his outstretched palm. He revealed the grey steel lighter reflecting the night light.
They found them after almost an hour of driving. Passing the Meguro border all the way to the piers at Shinagawa. Pah-chin was the one who spotted their car. While they goof off with some of their friends: drinking, smoking, and sniffing glue. It was when Baji smashed their window that alerted them of their presence. They soon made their way towards them, dragging steel bats on the ground. With the sound of fighting in the background. Baji decided it was the perfect time to continue smashing their windows with rocks, bricks, and his fist. Satisfied, he lit the Molotov. Throwing it into the backseat of the car. Baji had learned from his first car fire it took forever for a car to catch fire from the outside than inside. And that if he wanted it to last, he needed to bash a couple of the windows in to supply the fire with an ample amount of oxygen.
He watched how the fire spread from the back seat to the front. Burning through the cloth of the seat, and the plastic. Baji also learned that after a couple of minutes he should find a generous amount of distance between the burning cars. After some time, when the fire reached the front and then the engine where the battery laid it would overheat and then pop! Nothing big like in the movies but he prefers not to get hurt like the last time a fragment from the car whizzed past his knees. Burning it in the process. It was such a big nuisance to him due to the searing pain whenever he fought. And his mother's constant questions. He rather not experienced that gain. The fight continued. But by then, the other took out most of the annoying ones whilst Baji opted to watch his handiwork. The fire now engulfed the car.
A breeze from the ocean rushed in, resulting in him hugging himself for warmth. The news reported that they should expect snow this coming Christmas. Baji remembered how excited he was at hearing such. There hasn't been any snow in Tokyo for the longest time. Since he was a kid if he must recon. (Happier times). Too small to remember. Mikey gave a boy a kick in his face. Baji laughed: to think Christmas was right around the corner.
1: Koi Hitto- It means a masculine face in some context. It can also mean a non-Japanese face/unique face. It has wide-ranging meanings that differ based on the context. But in this, it means as such.
The next chapter is the last for this introduction arc. Then I will be gone on a break for exams. I will update in the week or if I'm feeling up to it I might d it a bit earlier. I hope you enjoy this chapter.