“………”
Makoto woke up and was immediately assaulted by a terrible headache. Next to him, he heard a girl’s voice.
“Are you all right…?” Toiro gazed at him intently, worried.
He had been asleep.
After vomiting, Makoto did not return to the classroom. Instead, he had gone to the nurse’s office. He had decided to lie down and sleep. His terrible headache was making him ill. Because of the pain, he did not notice his eyes were wet.
Makoto gingerly raised himself up. “What… time is it now…?”
“It’s lunch break already,” Toiro explained. “I came by the nurse’s office a few times already, but you were asleep…”
Toiro had heard from the homeroom teacher that Makoto was in the nurse’s office and came by to check during each break period.
“I see… Where’s the nurse…?” he asked.
“She said she was going to the faculty room, so she asked me to watch over you.”
“Oh?”
“Yep…”
The two of them fell silent. As if time had stopped, the white-walled room became a vacuum. Then he heard it.
—Ring.
A bell was ringing in the distance.
He couldn’t understand it, but he felt compelled to tell Toiro everything. He had to show it, his crimson scar. He felt he could tell her.
“The reason my father died… it was my fault…”
“…?”
Toiro swallowed hard, not saying a word. The thing he never talked about, couldn’t talk about, the memory he couldn’t let go of. Makoto was preparing himself to talk about it.
Perhaps the large dosage of prescription drugs and the relentless nightmares had weakened his heart. Whatever the reason, he only knew he wanted her, Toiro, to be the person to whom he told everything.
“My mom and dad had my big brother when they were still teenagers. They went against everyone’s wishes and eloped. My dad was a serious guy. When he got a job, all he knew to do was his job… And then I was born. It was then, I’ve been told, that he started to change…”
Soon after Makoto was born, the company his father worked for began to experience a downturn. His father worked desperately hard, but the company never regained its financial footing. It was a small company, and his father bore a heavy burden. In that frantic environment, his father’s mental health suffered. He began to physically abuse the very young Makoto.
On the other hand, his mother was indifferent towards Makoto. She focused all her care on Takaki. Compared with Takaki, who was a superior student and his mother’s pride, Makoto was the troublesome one.
Makoto needed help, yet he feared his father and his mother would not offer any. In fact, she estranged herself even more from Makoto.
Despite the misery, Makoto never hated his father. He came to believe his father was angry with him because he could do nothing right, because he was a bad child. So he tried to become a good boy.
He worked desperately hard. But still, his father’s beatings would not stop. The senseless violence continued. Makoto’s father would punch him, kick him and pound him with the bat, which was bought with the intention of playing father-and-son baseball.
There was, however, one person who did reach out to Makoto.
…It was Takaki.
But in defending Makoto, Takaki also bore the brunt of his father’s violence. Seeing his brother hurt, Makoto, from then on, did not reach out to anyone for help anymore. He did not cry out, silently enduring the beatings. He would only stare at his father through reddened, tear-swollen eyes. He wished only to be loved. By his father. And his mother.
“But… I… shouldn’t have wished for that…”
He couldn’t find the words. His voice trembled. In his memory, he was still that young child. The memories of the past were alive now.
“My mom… My mother stabbed him… My father…”
It happened in front of the young Makoto’s eyes.
His father’s violence grew worse. He grabbed a knife and pointed it towards Makoto. He swung it, and it cut into Makoto’s body, creating a crimson scar on his cheek, and blood flowed.
It was only then that his mother protected Makoto. Struggling with his father, she grabbed the knife and ended up stabbing him deep in the abdomen. It was not an accident. His mother murdered his father in order to save her son.
As a mother, it was impossible for her not to love Makoto. He was her child, after all. But she was also afraid. Her husband might even beat her and Takaki next. When she saw Makoto’s life was in danger, she shook off her fear and developed the will to kill.
With her hands drenched red by her husband’s blood, she hugged Makoto tightly to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s okay now.”
His mother actually cared deeply for Makoto. For the first time, he felt his mother’s warmth. He was happy and sad at the same time.
Then it happened.
His father, lying in a pool of his own blood, was surrounded by a rising black shadow. The shadow held an enormous scythe and took his father’s soul from his body… up, into the sky. Makoto begged the shadow not to take away his father, but the shadow only shook its head.
Since then, Makoto began to see things that should not be seen, things he did not wish to see. As a result, he suffered from terrible headaches.
“…My father died… and my mother was taken away by the police… My brother and I were taken in by relatives, but nobody wanted to take responsibility for abandoned children. Especially not the sons of a murderer… so we were placed in an orphanage…”
After some time, his mother died. It was in her prison cell, when the prison guards weren’t looking, that she hanged herself.
Makoto thought everything was a bad dream. So every night, he would go to sleep waiting for morning to come. But when morning arrived, it was today again. The dream was actually reality. A reality which would never go away. A reality which caused Makoto great suffering.
Makoto began to believe he was seeing things that could not be seen because he was a bad child. Takaki, certainly, could not see these things.
But Takaki and the adults at the orphanage thought it was due to trauma and it couldn’t be helped. They told Makoto he was a normal child, and gently gave him their support and care.
Eventually, receiving doctor’s treatments and by relying on prescription drugs, Makoto began to recover. Through the loss of his parents, he ironically became the recipient of much love and affection.
Still, he hid his wounds. He acted cheerful and smiled as if nothing was ever wrong. Every morning, he would struggle to turn his back on the dreams from which he could not awaken. Dragging his body awake, hiding his wounds, he would smile.
“There were times when I would forget how to smile…but still, I smiled… I think I hid my wounds. I think I tried really hard… But I don’t know… when I’m with you, Hiura… I can’t hide them anymore… The truth is that it’s hard for me, I feel sad, lonely, and I want to cry…”
Still lying atop the bed, Makoto pulled at the white sheets and tucked in his knees. Holding his trembling body together, he buried his tear-stained face into his knees. Toiro reached out for him.
“You don’t have to hide anymore…” she told him. “Your wounds will heal… so don’t hide your precious scars. I’m here now…”
Gently, she hugged him. This was the warmth he longed for. It was very much like the warmth of his mother back then.
“It’ll be all right… I…”
Whatever Toiro was planning to say, she never got to say it, as the nurse had returned to the room.
“What’s wrong?” the nurse asked. “Are you feeling ill?”
The nurse noticed that Makoto was all huddled up under the blanket.
“I think he’s not feeling very well,” Toiro said evasively.
She continued to rub Makoto’s back gently. He wanted to feel her warmth, even for just a bit longer.
But he failed to notice something important.