Chapter 14

It was in May of my first year of high school that I, Taiga Hirano, encountered the “hooky monster,” Sasaki. It started with a conversation we shared in a part of the school students weren’t supposed to be in. After that, a whole year passed, and we never got especially close. The next year, when we had underclassmen of our own to look out for, I would see a completely new side of Sasaki. But at the beginning, I couldn’t imagine it. I was putting a handout about an intensive math course in a clear folder and wondering whether I should apply to take it. It had been a bit over a month since school started, and having grown accustomed to dorm life, I was starting to think about how to tackle the tests I would eventually have to take. This math class was aimed at kids in the advanced program, but in principle, anyone could participate. I couldn’t tell whether it would be a good fit for me. I had been thinking about going home that weekend; in fact, I’d just called my family about it. I was a little embarrassed to go right back home after I’d just gotten back from Golden Week vacation. I guess it showed that I was pretty homesick. But the upperclassman I was living with warned me that if I didn’t go home again until summer break, my parents would worry about me, and I thought that made sense. Still, I hesitated. My visit wouldn’t be happening for a couple weeks yet, so I could still change my mind. I didn’t like that idea, though, since my parents had adjusted their own schedules to accommodate me. I might just be a high schooler, but living in the dorm had given me an idea of all the trouble involved when you had to make changes to a routine schedule. I’m still sort of feeling my way along, though. At the moment, the scales were tilting toward focusing on subjects I felt fairly comfortable in and putting off the rest. Oh well. I had time. I could use the midterm exams to help me make my decision. And since I had all week to decide, maybe I could consult with the other guys in the dorm for a while. I sat there thinking about it so long that before I knew it, I was one of only a few people left in the classroom. “Why didn’t you answer the phone yesterday, man? I was at the end of my rope!” This explosive accusation came from Ogasawara, a guy with a streak dyed right down the middle of his hair that gave him a tough-guy edge. You would never have taken him for a first-year. He had some piercings too, but so did I. I couldn’t exactly criticize him for it. “Yesterday? I had work,” Sasaki replied lazily. His hair was, well, less distinctive, but he had so many piercings, it was painful to look at. I didn’t think many students had several holes through their cartilage. I wasn’t about to judge a guy by his looks, but Sasaki was unusual. He stood out in our class, where devotion to study was expected. “Don’t lie to me! I saw your sister yesterday, and she said you were asleep in your room!” “Was I? I guess.” Talk about laid-back! He was way too indifferent! Yet Sasaki sounded so totally free of malice that it made Ogasawara seem like the bad guy just for trying to get him to tell the truth. “Hey, what about that CD we talked about the other day?” Ogasawara said. “Oh, that. Forgot it.” What are they, a comedy duo? “Grr!” I listened silently to the banter between the apathetic Sasaki and straightforward Ogasawara. I was just starting to stand when I remembered: Sasaki had good grades in math. I was pretty sure he’d gotten the top score on the midterm exams. That was where I’d gotten the notion that he had a serious side, even if he didn’t look like it. What a carefree guy. That was my first impression of Shuumei Sasaki. My second impression was different. “Class leader!” called the Modern Lit teacher, poking his head into our room. “He’s not here today, sir,” someone called back. “Someone from the Disciplinary Committee, then!” That would be me. “Yes, sir?” I said. There were no classes today and nothing to hand in this week. What did he want with me? “Sasaki’s the only person who didn’t hand in last week’s worksheet. I told him to have it to me by yesterday, but I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him. Tell him to get it to me today, will you?” This was considered Disciplinary Committee business? “Er… All right, sir,” I said, nodding and resisting the urge to ask why this wasn’t the after-class duty students’ responsibility. Ugh, why’d I have to get dragged into this? I managed not to grumble out loud as I looked around the classroom. Of course, there was no sign of Sasaki. Still, I was sure I’d seen him that morning, and his bag was at his desk. “You know where Sasaki is today?” I asked Ogasawara. I saw them together a lot; maybe he would know. But he shook his head. “No idea.” “I don’t have his contact info. Don’t have my phone, either,” I said. “It’s cool, just a moment. I’ll give him a ring,” Ogasawara replied. “…Hey, Sasaki? Where are you right now? Huh? What do you mean, you’re up? Hey!” The other end of the line went silent. It was nice of Ogasawara to save me the trouble of calling, but Sasaki had evidently wasted it. Not that I understood why or what was going on. “What’s the deal?” I asked. “He hung up on me. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s probably napping somewhere because it’s hot today.” Ogasawara looked pretty upset, but for the first time, it occurred to me that maybe he was just making a scary face and wasn’t actually angry. There was no hint of annoyance in his voice. In fact, he was a far cry from me—I was feeling pretty pissed. “Well, where is he?” I demanded, but Ogasawara just scratched his head and made a noncommittal sound. I could tell he wasn’t trying to put me off; he really didn’t know. “He hates the heat, so he’s probably somewhere cool,” he said. This guy was unbelievable. Not Ogasawara. I meant Sasaki. The bell for fourth period rang a moment later, but Sasaki was still a no-show. Can’t believe he skipped morning classes. Why does he even bother coming to school? Did he even come to school today? I tried to hide my annoyance the whole way through lunch. The lunch boxes you could order at school were never enough for me on days when I had gym class, and I was feeling particularly unsatisfied today. It didn’t help that I had eaten way quicker than usual, thinking I would use the lunch break to find Sasaki. I’d searched everywhere I thought someone might go to play hooky: the benches in the courtyard, the arts-and-music-type classrooms along infrequently-traveled hallways. I worked my way from floor to floor up the school, looking everywhere I could think of. There were surprisingly few rooms that went completely unused. Almost everywhere I thought to look, I discovered someone having lunch. Before long, I found myself out of ideas. What was this, a game of hide-and-seek? There was only one place I hadn’t checked—the school roof. But that was supposed to be off-limits to students. The Astronomy Club was allowed up there occasionally to look at the sky, but even that was just a few times a year. They hadn’t even done it since I’d started school here. I’m pretty sure the roof is locked… Right? With nothing but my suspicions to go on, I looked up the stairs to the roof. Ogasawara said Sasaki hates the heat. From that perspective, the stairway to the roof looked like a cozy hole in the ground. I pushed aside the whiteboard proclaiming that the roof was for “authorized personnel only” and took a hesitant step onto the stairs. I worked my way up to the landing, doing my damnedest not to make a sound. I turned and saw someone. “There you are!” I sighed. Sasaki was at the uppermost part of the staircase. The door to the roof was indeed locked, and the only window that let any light in was far away. Sasaki was sitting in a shadowy spot, leaning against the cool wall, listening to music. “Oh,” he said, his eyes drifting open. His ya-caught-me expression seemed out of place on the dusty staircase. It was the disinterested reaction of a guy who just didn’t care about school. “The hell are you doing here?” I said. Had he really been sitting there all day? Didn’t his butt get sore? Sasaki slid off his headphones and gave me a questioning look. “Er, Hirano, right? Whatcha need?” He remembers my name? That surprised me. Maybe my golden hair gave it away. “What do I need? To tell you that you have to turn in a worksheet for Modern Literature today. You’re the only one who hasn’t.” Only then did it occur to me that it would have been far more efficient just to have Ogasawara send him a text. I’d been asked to tell him to turn in the worksheet, but I wasn’t ordered to collect it from him. Still, it was true that I was concerned about his “flying by the seat of his pants” approach to life. Maybe we were supposed to be having this conversation.