“I’ll change my phone number eventually, so you won’t be able to reach me, but don’t worry. Bye.”
“Stay safe out there.” It took everything just to wring out the words.
Toyota thanked me and started down the corridor, waving at me. The black tube with his diploma in hand looked like a protective talisman.
It was March, but the nights were still cold.
Tonight I’d refused dinner at the Nishikawa residence to stand in front of the gates to the nearest suburban train station to Toyota’s house. It wasn’t like he wanted me to see him off. I didn’t even know whether I’d see him there.
I wanted to laugh, thinking how selfish I’d become. Since when did I start acting for my own sake? I kept asking myself if what I was about to do was any different from what my “new friend” had done to me. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. My actions were closer to his than I wanted to admit.
When it got late, Toyota arrived with Suzuka on his back. His face twisted with an expression that was of neither joy nor exasperation.
“Are you stalking me?”
He wore his backpack in front of his chest, supported the sleeping Suzuka on his back, and held his sister’s belongings in his arms. His heavy breathing created a white cloud around his mouth.
Here was a single boy trying to carry the entire world on his shoulders. It was the perfect image for this situation.
He’d forced a grin to hide his frown, but that only served to make the air tense.
“Sakata, I asked my mom, you know. If she wanted to come with us,” Toyota began, rather agitated.
“And?”
“She said she’s staying.”
The words came out hard. A tear rolled down his cheek, and with that, the emotional floodgate opened.
“My mom made her choice. She chose to stay and get yelled at and get hit. What she’s most afraid of isn’t me or Suzuka getting hurt—it’s having a damn spine. It’s making decisions, throwing things away, gaining things... Sure, she’s human too. She’s weak, and if she feels like she doesn’t need to do anything, she won’t. What does that make us, then? Was it wrong to think she still wanted to protect us?”
I realized those were tears of anger. He was rambling, trying to cool down by letting out the emotions that were welling up inside him.
I had experienced that for myself once, back when I was actively hostile toward my father. I’d still been trying to protect my mother then. It all felt so distant, but I still remembered. I could still sympathize.
This was probably my last chance. Eventually, I wouldn’t be able to relate to Toyota. I wouldn’t be able to understand this feeling or his tears.
This was what I’d lose by staying by his side.
But I had made my choice.
I carefully listened to Toyota spill his heart. I knew if I said the wrong thing, he would break.
“Suzuka wasn’t there for it, but what would she think if she knew? Not that I can tell her. Would she hate me? I don’t want to tell her anything—why we had to leave, why we couldn’t stay... I don’t want to have to explain it. I can’t. What if I make her cry? What if she hates me? She loves mom. But I have to do this. If we leave now, Suzuka will be able to keep loving our mom.”
“I get it.” I kept my voice quiet to avoid waking his sister, but Toyota sounded so desperate that I had to say something. I had to let him know I heard him. If I didn’t, he’d feel like no one was on his side.
“Sakata, what is love supposed to be, anyway? Did my mother ever give it to me? Can I even give it to Suzuka?”
Well...
“I don’t have an answer for you, Toyota.”
I had spoken without thinking, but he smiled. Maybe that’d been reassuring to him.
I took an envelope from my school bag at my feet and held it out to Toyota. When he accepted it, his face seemed to twist. He must have known what was inside when he touched it.
One million yen.
In cash, it was strangely thick.
Was there any difference between what I was doing to Toyota now and what he’d done to me?
This, too, was a type of violence. It was enough to crush Toyota’s pride and dignity in one blow.
When he’d first approached me about this job, I’d been so angry that I felt sick.
Still, money could get you just about anything nowadays. You could exchange it for a place to live and for food. It could get you some form of happiness, just like how I’d exchanged the cost of my mother’s funeral for relief.
I wanted my friend to obtain as much happiness as possible.
“Thanks,” Toyota said.
“There’s a note inside. It’s got my number on it and my address during college, though I’ll probably move again in four years. If anything happens, you’re welcome to visit like you always did. And bring Suzuka.”
We were connected through our misery.
It was hard to say either of us was happy. We couldn’t hang out with those kinds of people lest we suffer the oppression of their happiness. With Toyota, I didn’t have to pity myself. We could think unfortunate circumstances were common. We didn’t need to explain our feelings to each other. That must have been why Toyota stayed by my side.
He’d brought me expired food. He’d stayed with me for three years.
He was my only friend, and he was kinder than my parents.
We entered the station together and waited on the platform for the train.
After a while, Toyota asked, “And what about you? How’s that job of yours?”
“Who knows. I don’t know how long it’ll last. Maybe tomorrow he’ll decide he doesn’t need me anymore.”
“Or maybe it’ll keep going. Maybe you’ll still be working for him in ten years.”
“I doubt that.” I half wanted to believe it. “You never know when someone might change their mind. Nothing lasts forever.”
That, too, would disappear one day. And I knew I couldn’t cherish him. I’d never experienced that myself, so I didn’t know how to handle something worth cherishing.
That was why our arrangement, my living situation, the money—none of it would last.