“Where are we even going, anyway?”
We’d been bombing straight down one long road for a while now. I could still vaguely recall the Otaru sightseeing map in my head, and I was pretty sure there weren’t many touristy spots so far away that you’d need a car to reach them.
“Cape Kamui,” said Sera.
“Is that nearby?”
“Yeah, it’s just right down this road. Look it up.”
I did as I was told and pulled up the map on my phone. Okay, let’s see… Cape Kamui…
“What the…?! That’s ridiculously far! It’s not even in Otaru!”
“Eh, shouldn’t take more than an hour, if we floor it. Don’t worry, I’ll still get you back to your girlfriend on time.”
“That’s great and all, but…I’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to leave the city in the first place, dude…”
“They didn’t explicitly say we couldn’t, though.”
“Yeah, but still…”
Even if it wasn’t technically breaking the rules, I was fairly certain the faculty would have a few choice words for us if they found out about this. In fact, I had a feeling it was against school regulations to even get a driver’s license, whether you were of age or not—but since Sera probably got his before he transferred to Tsubakioka, maybe it wasn’t a problem. Either way, he was definitely skirting the line.
I could have chided him a bit more about it, but this whole day had already been such a weird emotional roller coaster that I was too exhausted to bother. Instead, I leaned back in my seat and gazed out the window, watching as the deserted streets of sleepy Otaru gradually gave way to a landscape that looked more and more like Tsubakioka by the minute. I might have even mistaken it at first glance if it weren’t for all of the snow on the ground.
Beside me, Sera started humming some new catchy pop song that I’d been hearing everywhere lately, tapping his fingers to the beat as he gripped the steering wheel with his left hand. He seemed to be in an awfully good mood—but then again, he kind of always did. I’d never seen him look grumpy or upset about anything, really.
“How can you be so…so free all the time?” The question had popped into my head unbidden, so I figured I might as well voice it.
Sera took a break from his a cappella session to respond. “Well, y’see, it’s because my dearly departed brother—God rest his soul—told me something as he was lying on his deathbed. He said, ‘Itsuku, I want you to—’”
“Yes, you already tried that one on me. Look, I don’t need a genuine answer or anything, but could you at least come up with a lie that’s somewhat believable?”
“Ooh, good retort,” said Sera. “I see you’re finally learning how to hold your own in these little back-and-forths with me.”
I did not take this as a compliment.
“Anyway, let me answer your question with another question, Sakuma…” said Sera. “Do you feel like you’re any less free than I am?”
“I mean… Depends on your definition of freedom, I guess.”
“Sure, that’s fair. Like, I think I heard some old philosopher once described freedom as ‘the state of having the ability to govern oneself’… But wouldn’t that make self-control a kind of freedom too? For instance, take someone who’s able to stick to a long-term diet to lose weight, or somebody who can save up their money to afford a new game they really want. We act like that’s a sign of ‘restraint,’ but isn’t it really more of an indication that the person isn’t a slave to their own baser instincts and urges? In that sense, you could even say that you and Ushio are actually freer than me.”
I felt like I was being given some big-brained philosophy lecture now. And while I was certainly impressed that Sera seemed to have a relatively well-thought-out position on a nuanced topic like this, it also didn’t really answer my original question.
“Sorry, let me rephrase the question,” I said. “What I’m trying to ask is: How come you’re able to just do as you please all the time without ever giving a moment’s thought to what other people might think of you, or whether they’ll treat you differently for it?”
“I figure we just place different degrees of importance on those sorts of things,” said Sera. “Even I have some amount of shame, believe it or not.”
“Liar. I don’t believe that for a second.”
“No, it’s true! I just try to throw caution to the wind and do the thing before any fears or regrets can catch up with me. It’s like how the faster you ride a bike, the easier it is to keep your balance. Just gotta go for it, commit to the bit, and fake it till you make it… That’s the only healthy way I know how to live and stay sane, anyway.”
I couldn’t tell if he was actually being sincere with me or not, but I’d kind of stopped caring at this point. I had to engage with the words he was saying in good faith regardless, or else this whole conversation would completely fall apart.
“Can you really call that a ‘healthy’ mindset, though?” I asked. “I feel like it’d get pretty exhausting to force yourself to keep living like that after a while.”
“Yeah, did you not hear what I just said? If you ask me, folks like you and Ushio are way more free than a guy like me. I mean, the literal instant I get the idea in my head that something might be kinda funny or amusing, I can’t help myself. I have to try it. Like I said, I’m a slave to my every urge and impulse. Or if we wanna say it in a slightly cooler, less masochistic way: I’m a devoted follower of my own basic instincts.”
“…Still sounds pretty corny to me.”
“But I’ve gotta say, it’s a lot of fun. My life is always super enjoyable, every single day. So much so that I don’t really care whether I’m free or in control.”
To this, I didn’t say anything.
His lifestyle didn’t sound enviable to me in the slightest. From the way he’d described it, it probably came with its own fair share of suffering. And yet, for the briefest of moments, I couldn’t help but think, I wish I could live like that. It almost felt like he was slowly but surely whittling away at my entire worldview.
To be free was to be a slave to your own instincts.
To be normal was to let society dictate your values.
To be in love was to hurt and be hurt voluntarily.
When I realized the hidden, disruptive effect his offhand remarks always seemed to have on me, my breath caught in my throat, and I could hardly say a word.
“I don’t get it… Nothing makes sense anymore…”
But my voice was drowned out by the echoing, windblown wail of the engine as we barreled around the bend into a long, dark tunnel.