Before I could even say anything, Kengo shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Immature, right?” He sighed, and then his tone strengthened with confidence again. “But I was right. The normal thing for a mom to do when her son asks her to stay isn’t to ignore him and move away anyway, right? What kinda mom prioritizes her love life over her underage kid? But then Dad called me and was like, ‘Quit being childish and sticking your nose in. It’s none of your business.’ And now for some reason, he and Mom are fighting over all that? I mean, I guess it could be worse, but it sure feels like torture.”
Kengo paused again to take a sip of his oolong. He looked back at me as he continued. “That’s how it was. And like, night before last, everyone was just like…” He put an index finger below each eye and drew lines down his cheeks. Then he did it again, over and over, his fingers pressing into his skin.
When he said “everyone,” maybe he was including himself in that. He was 5′10′′ and in his last year of high school. Looking at him, you’d think he was an adult. But that didn’t mean he was as in control of his emotions as one.
“I don’t get what their problem is. It wasn’t like I was crying for my mommy. It was just that I suddenly had to deal with the fact that I wasn’t Mom’s top priority anymore… Uh, I guess that sounds super immature too. But, like, I always thought she cared about me more than anyone else, and now I’m thinking it’s unrealistic to expect that from someone. I guess I’m feeling kinda…hopeless? It’s hard to accept, y’know? I mean, I’ve got Dad, but it’s not really the same.”
The way he was looking at me, it was like he wanted me to say I understood his point. I didn’t know anything about Kengo’s dad, but I could tell that Kengo saw his parents as two totally separate figures. I gave a small nod.
“We kept fighting, and Mom said if I cared so much, why didn’t I go up to live with them?”
“Huh?!”
“Yeah, I know. ‘Huh.’”
“Wait, but…what about school? There’s no way you could move.”
“Right. And I told her. I’m all settled here, I can’t transfer schools now, I got my exams… I told her it wasn’t happenin’. I was showing her my phone photos, saying I got friends, and that’s when that one photo came up. The one you sent me.”
“Which one?”
“The one you took of me.”
The image flashed into my mind right away. I’d never forget how Kengo looked in the photo he let me take on the platform for as long as I lived. I didn’t even have to close my eyes to see it.
“A ton of stuff came flooding back to me when that photo showed up, like a volcano had gone off inside my head. You remember what you said to me back then?”
“What, ‘Can I take your photo’?”
“No, after that. You said, ‘That’s so human.’ I could hear you saying it clear as day, and then I looked at my mom. I saw how she was so mad, crying and screaming, and I was like, that’s so human. ’Cause she is human. She only gets one life, one crack at all of this, and there’s only one of her. I never thought of her like that before. My mom’s just a person, and that’s that. No one has the right to tell her what choices to make. Not even her own kid. It was literally the first time I saw things in that light since I was born. And then yesterday I was like, guess I’ll go home. So here I am.”
“You don’t care about what your mom does anymore?”
“Nope,” he said firmly, almost aggressively. But then he lowered his voice and spoke more tenderly. “She’ll be fine.”
He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. I knew that.
“Humans shouldn’t need permission to live their lives in a human way. Before I caught the train back, I went to her boyfriend’s salon and told him not to worry about me anymore. I thought it’d be weird to say just that though, so I got him to cut my hair like this, ’cause it’s hot and all. I’m sick of dyeing it anyway. Plus, he said he’d do it for free. Kinda funny, huh?” Kengo grinned, flashing me his white teeth. Still smiling, he suddenly closed his eyes like something had just come flying at him. He pushed his index fingers into his eyelids. Apparently he was just pretending to get emotional though, because he went on.
“Yeah, funny… I know I said I don’t care, but maybe I’m still hoping for something to change. I dunno what I’m trying to get out of telling you about it. There’s probably something…something I really want, but I dunno what it is. And I don’t know when I’ll be able to stop looking for it either.”
As I listened, I reached out a finger toward him.
“Ever since I was a kid, I’ve always felt like I’m missing something, y’know? Like I’ve been torn away from something or like, whenever I cling to something I want, I get pulled away from it. And then I’m searching for whatever it is that’s missing… My point is that I’m, like… Well, I dunno…”
Kengo was pressing his eyes again. My finger touched his hand. It was my first time touching him. I grabbed his wrist and pulled it toward me. He let me do it, but kept his eyes closed.
“There’s something about you, Rara. I keep thinking it whenever we see each other and when we talk and stuff. I dunno what it is. But I think it’s the reason I could tell you about all this weird stuff.”
“I don’t think it’s weird.”
“It is. Did you even understand what I was on about? ’Cause I didn’t…”
“I didn’t get all of it, but I don’t care. I just like listening to you talk.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, so keep talking. I wanna listen to you talk forever.” I put my hand over Kengo’s, which was resting on the table, and waited for him to open his eyes. “Say something.”