Chapter 3

In class, we start out the year seated in Japanese alphabetical order. Since my name starts with M, which comes near the end of that sequence, I’m always one of the last to introduce myself. I’m never sure what to do. They tell you to talk about your favorite things or what makes you an interesting person or whatever, but I’ve never been very good at that. “I’m Tasuku Kuresawa. I chose this school because it has an Astronomy Club. As a point of interest, I have a girlfriend. I look forward to spending this year with you.” There was an appreciative buzz from the rest of the class. It was the day after the entrance ceremony, and we were all introducing ourselves, which meant talking about a lot of purposefully inoffensive subjects. Playing the girlfriend card earned Kuresawa some serious attention. Astronomy Club? Do we have one of those? I thought. This Kuresawa guy seemed awfully romantic, and that made him memorable. My reasons for picking this school weren’t as well defined as his. I’d wanted an all-boys place that was easy to commute to from my house and that would offer lots of possibilities for the future. Since I still didn’t really know what I wanted to do in the future, keeping my options open seemed like the best course of action. All I’m really saying is that everyone sitting there in the classroom with me had different reasons for attending this school. As Kuresawa just demonstrated. It was the first time that I, Yoshikazu Miyano, sat up and took notice of Kuresawa. I ended up joining the Disciplinary Committee and the Literature Club, so I didn’t see a whole lot of him. My days were fulfilling in their own way, but as far as Kuresawa went, I figured we’d be classmates all year and nothing else. Until one particular day proved me wrong. They’re after us! One afternoon, not long after first-term finals, I found myself being chased. Seriously. I ducked out from behind the south building, where the trouble had started, looking for anywhere we might be able to hide. Then we darted into the school itself, keeping an eye out. I say they were after “us,” but in actuality, I was trying to help Kuresawa escape the vicious beating he’d been receiving. Even if I had no idea why he’d been attacked. All I knew was that a few minutes ago, he’d been with me on after-class duty, and then suddenly, he’d been in the middle of a group of guys kicking and punching him. Nurse’s office, nurse’s office… This way. Calm down. I knew I had to stay cool. Kuresawa was hurt. I’d never actually seen a person punch someone else, never witnessed how brutal a kick could be. It felt more awful than I could have imagined, worse than seeing it in any movie. It would be enough to throw anyone into a panic. Confronted with violence and no one around to break it up, I was hit with the sickening realization that logic and common sense wouldn’t get me anywhere in this situation. I was overwhelmed by my own powerlessness—my own inability to put a stop to it. I wondered if the guy who’d jumped in to help Kuresawa was okay. I’d just happened to bump into him, but he was a lot more help to Kuresawa than I was. All I’d been able to do was cry for help in sheer shock. Before he’d joined the fray, we’d alerted Hirano, an upperclassman on the Disciplinary Committee, so at least the guy wouldn’t be high and dry with no one to help him if he needed it—but it was still scary. The chaos left my heart racing, pounding so hard that even breathing was somehow painful. “Excuse me! Nurse?” I called, knocking on the door to the nurse’s office when we finally arrived. To my great relief, a voice said, “Yes? Come in.” It was just a few words, but they were spoken gently. I’ve got to explain, I thought, but my voice wouldn’t come out. The sight of violence on the grounds of my own school, even if I hadn’t been directly involved, left me so fearful and shocked that my body froze and I couldn’t seem to shake it off. I could feel Kuresawa leaning on my right shoulder. Could I possibly manage to explain that he’d been ganged up on? My concern only lasted for an instant. The moment the nurse turned to us, her expression changed. “He’s hurt! What in the world happened?!” “Some guys beat him up!” I said. “Let’s start by getting you some first aid. Can you tell me your name and class?” she asked Kuresawa. “Yeah…” I thought he might need to lie down in bed, but he only sat in a chair and was able to answer the nurse’s questions. It almost made his swollen face and the twisted frame of his glasses look even more painful. Maybe it was the injuries to his abdomen that made him hunch forward. Even though we hadn’t talked much, I had a strong memory of Kuresawa sitting with perfect posture as he typed on his cell phone. “Let me see your stomach,” I heard the nurse say, and she rolled up his shirt. I found myself facing Kuresawa’s back. The nurse decided Kuresawa didn’t have any really serious injuries, but my blood still ran cold at the memory of him lying on the ground, cringing under those blows. I wonder if that upperclassman’s okay… He was pretty much the picture of a well-built guy—broad shoulders giving him a striking silhouette. He’d been so…cool. The sheer calm in his sharp eyes had taken the edge off my own anxiety, but it had almost killed me to have to run away and leave him there by himself. Not to mention I’d left the broom and trash bag (which didn’t belong to me!) leaning against the wall. Even if it was to help Kuresawa escape. I couldn’t stop wondering about the guy and whether he was hurt. Once the thought was in my head, I couldn’t get it out again. I flipped open my phone and found a missed call and text from Hirano. Got to the scene, but the guys ran away. You okay? The time stamp showed it had been a good five minutes since he’d sent the message. I’d better let him know I was all right. I’m fine, thanks, I wrote back. We’re at the nurse’s office. I hurriedly hit Send, then suddenly realized I’d forgotten something very important. I sent a follow-up: If that other guy is still with you, tell him thanks for his help. Hirano’s reply came almost immediately. I told him. That guy’s a classmate of mine. He’s fine. We’re talking to the faculty adviser in the Disciplinary Committee room. We’d like to get some details. Could you and the guy who got beat up come here? The tone of the message was a little less formal than I was used to from Hirano, but it was obvious that he was taking this seriously, and I appreciated that. My real fear had been that he would just pass it off and then the bullies would get back at me. Maybe it came from steeping too long in two-dimensional stuff (okay, BL), but it was a serious problem. With a sigh of relief, I slid my phone back into my pocket. That was when someone said, “You saved my skin. Thanks.” I looked up to find Kuresawa looking right at me. “I’m still doing first aid, young man! Face this way!” the nurse snapped. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, looking not at all concerned as he turned toward her. Come to think of it, even when he’d been getting beat up, he hadn’t put his head down; he’d tried to look his attackers in the eyes the whole time. “Thank you, Miyano,” he said again. “Sure, no problem… Heck, I didn’t do anything. It was another guy who jumped in to save you.” I was annoyed that it was the most I could offer—I didn’t actually know the name of Hirano’s friend. Some help I was. “That’s not true. My stomach hurt too bad to walk, and you let me lean on you. Thanks for that. I wonder how that guy’s doing. I’ll have to be sure to thank him, too.” “An upperclassman on the Disciplinary Committee got in touch with me to let me know he’s all right. Unfortunately, the other guys got away.” I hadn’t gotten a good look at Kuresawa’s assailants, so I didn’t know who they might be. That realization suddenly worried me. Kuresawa could probably give eyewitness testimony himself, but would they ever find the guys in a school with so many students? Around here, if you weren’t in a club or on a committee together, you might never know who was in the class next door. “Yeah? Well, anyway, I’m glad he’s okay. Where are he and your upperclassman?” “They went to talk to the teacher in the Disciplinary Committee room. They want to know more about what happened and who attacked you. Would you come with me? They want to hear from you, too.” We waited for the nurse to fill out some paperwork about Kuresawa’s treatment, and then Kuresawa got gingerly to his feet. “Yeah, sure.” “How are your injuries?” He’d looked pretty rough while the nurse was treating him, not that I’d been looking too closely or anything. “Well… I can walk. By the way, you don’t have to call me ‘you.’ Just use my name: Kuresawa.” “Huh? Oh, uh, sure, Kuresawa.” “Thanks again, Miyano.” It only took a few minutes for Hirano and the Disciplinary Committee faculty adviser to ask Kuresawa and me the questions they wanted. They offered to take Kuresawa to the hospital, but he said he would let his parents know and go by himself. They said that was all right—the hospital was walking distance from school—but I couldn’t help wondering if he was really going to make it. In deference to Kuresawa’s injuries, they agreed to talk to us another time to get more details. It sounded like there would be other teachers involved, too. “I’ll see you later, then,” I said. “Sure. Careful going home,” Hirano replied. Kuresawa had been evasive about exactly why he’d gotten beat up. Thinking maybe it was a sensitive issue, we agreed I wouldn’t be present the next time they talked. No one in the room had wanted to challenge him about his excuse that the other guys had been saying some ugly things and Kuresawa had opened his big mouth. Hirano was even going to talk to the nurse who’d given Kuresawa first aid—he was staying busy. It was good to know we had a dependable upperclassman. From what I heard during the discussion, actual violence on school grounds was pretty unusual, and it might be more than the Disciplinary Committee could handle on its own. Even if they figured out what to do about it, they still didn’t know who had been involved in the fight. Neither Kuresawa nor I had seen the other guy’s face, after all. We didn’t even know what year he was in. Kuresawa’s glasses had been bent during the beating, so he hadn’t even been able to see the guy up close. We were told that Sasaki, the guy who’d jumped in to help, had said that the attacker was probably a first-year. It sounded like Sasaki had been on his way to the nurse’s office just as we were leaving—I knew he must have gotten hurt. We’d missed him and hadn’t been able to say a proper thank-you. “Okay, Kuresawa, you wait by the exit. I’ll grab your bag,” I said. He shook his head, but then put a hand to his neck. Even that simple gesture was obviously painful for him. I didn’t want him to overdo it. “You don’t have to. I feel bad putting you to the trouble,” he said. “Not like it’s heavy. I’ll be fine.” I headed back to the classroom to collect Kuresawa’s bag. The handful of students who had still been around earlier were gone now, leaving the classroom nearly empty. It was only an hour later than when I usually left school, but the whole place seemed different. Even with the visit to the nurse’s office and the questioning, barely an hour had passed, which made me realize how quickly the entire brutal incident must have taken place. Hardly as long as it took to clean the classroom after homeroom. It all seemed like a bad dream. “Thanks, it’s a big help. Was there anyone there?” Kuresawa asked as I returned with his bag. He was probably worried about locking up the classroom. That was usually the last thing the guy on after-class duty did before returning the key to the teachers’ room. I’d remembered it myself halfway back to him. I handed Kuresawa his bag and took another look at him. His face really did look painful. “Yeah, Tashiro was there. I asked him to lock up.” Tashiro was one of our classmates, an upbeat guy who knew how to be the life of the party. If there was a lively discussion taking place in the classroom, you could bet he was in the middle of it. He was quick to laugh and horse around and always seemed to be having fun. He and I didn’t exactly have a lot in common, but even someone as different from him as I was found him approachable and easy to talk to. “I really screwed up,” Kuresawa said. “Tashiro wanted to know what happened. I told him you got beat up.” Tashiro saw me leaving with two bags, one of which belonged to a guy I wasn’t that close to. I hadn’t taken him for such a perceptive observer. Hirano had asked me not to share too many details since the matter was still under investigation by the Disciplinary Committee, but I gave Tashiro the basics. He was considerate enough that I figured if I mentioned someone getting beat up, he would take the hint and not make too big a deal about it. Kuresawa managed to put on his shoes, though it looked like bending over was agonizing. “I see you on your phone a lot during breaks,” I remarked. “Oh, yeah. My girlfriend.” “Right, right. I almost forgot about her.” So that was it. I remembered him mentioning a girlfriend when we’d all introduced ourselves the day after the entrance ceremony. I found my first impression of him, which had stayed in a corner of my mind since that day, overlapping with the way he looked as he stood in front of me now. He’d seemed like the intellectual type; the black-rimmed glasses fit the image exactly. And he had a girlfriend who he was head over heels in love with and texted all the time. Right. “You look surprised,” he said. “Not surprised. More like I didn’t realize you kept in touch with her so much.” It was more a kind of “gap moe,” the charm of someone turning out to be the opposite of what you expected. Not that I could ever say that out loud. “Yeah? It’s nice to be able to stay connected with the person you love, even if it’s not face-to-face.” “Huh…” I knew this wasn’t the time, but I found myself grinning—he’d reminded me of the book I’d been reading the day before, and something the pure-hearted seme in it had said. “What are you smirking at, Miyano?” “Who, me? Nothing! Just thinking how nice it must be to be in love.” “Sure. You’re an odd one,” he said—but then he laughed. That seemed just like what that seme would have said, too. I’d taken Kuresawa for the serious type, but maybe he was more of a joker than I’d given him credit for. “You think?” “What, you want details? Sorry, not in the mood today. Maybe once I get myself together.” It sounded like another joke. I smiled awkwardly. “It’s okay. I’m afraid I’d only picture something else.” “Hmm?” Kuresawa raised an eyebrow—he didn’t look upset, more like he was trying to put the pieces together. I quickly waved my hands. “Nothing! It’s nothing. Anyway, like the teacher said, make sure you stop by the hospital, okay?” It was possible for a bone to be fractured even if it didn’t hurt that much. The nurse had said Kuresawa probably didn’t have any internal injuries, but her office wasn’t equipped to check, and the adviser of the Disciplinary Committee agreed that it couldn’t hurt to be sure. “Yeah, I will. Don’t like that I’m probably going to have to take off from gym class until this gets better…” “You like gym?” I asked. Kuresawa informed me that in fact, he hated it, but his expression was grim. “Since I’m already bad at it, I would hate for an absence to torpedo my grades.” Ah. I nodded. That fit very well with my image of Kuresawa as someone who never wanted to slack off. “It’ll be summer break soon. You might not be able to take the practicals, but if you can shore up your grades with some pen-and-paper tests on health, it might not do too much damage. Maybe I can talk to Coach at lunch tomorrow and see if he’ll cut you some slack. It might go better hearing it from a member of the Disciplinary Committee.” We were swimming in gym class. Finals for the term were over, but there were still some practical tests to do. Grades included in-pool swimming, which we hadn’t finished yet, but it would be tough for an injured guy like Kuresawa to be part of that. Maybe I could ask for him to be graded based exclusively on the work he’d already completed. I’d always figured that if you beat up another student, you’d be expelled, but I realized that I’d had a blind spot when it came to supporting the victim of the violence. During the questioning in the Disciplinary Committee room, I’d tried to keep everything at arm’s length lest they think I’d been involved in the fighting, but now I saw I wasn’t thinking it through. Classes were far more separate in high school than they had been in middle school. If someone didn’t tell the gym teacher what had happened, he would probably never know. “You’re a pretty good guy, Miyano. Seriously, I really appreciate the help,” Kuresawa said. “Well, apologies in advance if it turns out I can’t help you.” I didn’t want to get his hopes up just to find out I couldn’t do anything for him. He just grinned and said I shouldn’t apologize before anything happened. “Hey, Miyano, what’s the opposite of a seme?” The question came completely out of the blue one fine afternoon between classes, and it came from Kuresawa. I thought my heart would stop. “Wh-what?! Why would you ask that? Why would you ask me that?!” Had I made some sort of slip? I couldn’t think of anything. I looked around, afraid that if I just stood there panicking, I’d eventually say something I’d regret. “The fact that you have such a strong reaction to that question must mean—” “Stop! Let’s talk about this privately,” I said. He was acting like you could just ask questions like that! I grabbed Kuresawa’s arm and dragged him to a corner of the classroom. It was safer than the hall, which was full of students changing classes. “This is private?” Kuresawa asked. “Yeah, close enough. What is it?” I said. I was whispering, but Kuresawa didn’t see fit to drop his voice. “According to my girlfriend, a person who likes BL would say the answer is an uke.” “Uh, well, seme means attack, so I guess the opposite would obviously be mamori, defense.” “I get the feeling you’re BS-ing me. I saw you flinch.” I nearly choked. Weren’t attack and defense opposites? That’s what an ordinary person would think, wasn’t it? I had been an ordinary person until not long ago, so I was pretty sure I knew. It was scary how quickly that change happened. Without even realizing it, I’d gone so far that I could never go back to who I was before I’d been awakened to BL.