Takaya never returned that night.
But he did, for some reason, show up at school the next day near noon. Oonuki, who had evidently been waiting for him, promptly summoned him to the teachers’ room.
“...You’ve heard about what happened to Yokomori and his friends?”
Takaya, standing with his hands in his pockets by habit, avoided meeting Oonuki’s eyes. Oonuki licked his lips in anticipation; Takaya had the distinct impression that he was more motivated by glee at this opportunity to talk down to him than concern for Yokomori and company.
“You goaded Mitsui into it, didn’t you?”
“...”
“So you can’t even get your own revenge without someone else’s help? Not that I expected anything else from a coward like you.”
Takaya shot Oonuki a sharp glare. “Fuck you. I didn’t say anything.”
Oonuki smirked and leaned forward as if he had been waiting for this reaction from Takaya.
“Drop the excuses. Mitsui wouldn’t have come here without you egging him on. Aside from you, all the students of this school are well-behaved angels.”
“What...!”
“I guess this is what they mean by bad blood, hmm? Your father is a drunkard, isn’t he? And your mother ran off with another man?”
“!”
Takaya seized Oonuki’s collar in a sudden, violent movement. Oonuki’s face stiffened with fear. The other teachers turned in surprise. Takaya was already on edge and not in a mood to be insulted today. Too late for that.
“Shut your blathering piehole, you asshole! You think I’m gonna sit still and listen to your rubbish? Keep going and I’ll punch your face in right here, dammit!”
“O-Ougi! Stop!”
“Come on, keep going, dammit! Do I look like I’ve got the time to listen to a chicken-livered coward prattle at me, you disgusting tanuki pervert?!”
“Ougi! Stop, Ougi!”
Oonuki was so terrified that he couldn’t get out a single word. Takaya continued to jeer at him, his hand shaking on Oonuki’s collar, as the other staff shoved each other out of the way to separate them. The room descended into chaos.
Fear tinged all the gazes that fell on him. When he walked down the corridor, students cleared a path for him even as they whispered about him behind his back, probably about what had happened to Yokomori. Because of that incident his connection to Mitsui had been called to unnecessary attention and exaggerated out of all proportion.
Though Yokomori no longer dared raise a hand against him, his hatred was now absolute. For all that none of it had been instigated by Takaya, there wasn’t much he could do at this late date.
(Damn that bastard Mitsui...) Takaya cursed savagely to himself, then looked up as—
“You didn’t go home last night, Ougi?”
He turned at the abrupt voice to see an unusually worked-up Kayama. Though Takaya’s return gaze held not only its habitual hostility but an edge of constrained violence, today Kayama faced it unflinchingly.
“Narita didn’t come to school today.”
“?”
“He waited for you until midnight last night in front of your house, in that freezing cold, and came down with a fever. I was there too. I rushed him back to his house. He’s resting at home today.”
“Wh...at...”
The words made absolutely no sense to him for a moment. They were, in fact, too outrageous to believe. Yuzuru had waited for him? Waited for him, until...? What the hell was going on?
“When that guy’s convinced about something, he goes after it with a one-track mind. I couldn’t stop him,” Kayama told him, grimacing. “That’s what I came here to tell you. I’ve got no clue why Narita’s so hung up about you, but I guess there’re lots of idiots in the world. I don’t care what you do, but don’t wrap other people up in it.” Kayama walked away, leaving Takaya frozen in place, stunned.
School was boring anyway, Takaya thought as he left. He wandered through the city, but before he knew it his feet were climbing the hill road he had taken that night. He stopped before the house that he remembered—Narita Yuzuru’s house.
“...”
He looked up at the house from the spot in front of the garden. He didn’t know which window belonged to Yuzuru, but it was probably one of those on the second-floor with a blind drawn across. He stood there motionlessly for a while, but—
(What the hell am I doing?) he wondered, tossing the cigarette he’d been smoking into the garden. He was getting angry just standing there. It was almost like he was worried about Yuzuru, who had gotten a fever waiting for him to come home.
(I can’t believe I came here...)
His eyes abruptly fell to the little mound at the front of the garden. There was a piece of wood sticking out of it—this must be the aforementioned bird’s grave. He brooded over it for a moment before turning to leave again.
“Ougi! It is Ougi, right?”
One of the blinded second-floor window clicked open, and Narita Yuzuru’s face poked out.
“Narita—...!”
“Wait! I’m coming down!” Yuzuru called, and disappeared. After a few seconds the front door opened, and Yuzuru came rushing out in a sweater, red-faced.
“Oh, good! Since you’re wearing your school uniform it means you went to school, right? And went home, too.”
“Don’t you have a fever...?” He didn’t add, “Should you be running out like this?”
But Yuzuru seemed to have heard him anyway, and shook his head. “It’s nothing.” Then he truly smiled at Takaya for the first time. It staggered Takaya, who had never seen a smile so bright and innocent before. This must Yuzuru’s usual expression. He seemed genuinely, whole-heartedly happy that Takaya had come to see him.
“Since you’re here, why don’t you come in? We have red tea and stuff. It’s cold today, isn’t it?”
“You...”
“I was getting bored, too. Have you had lunch? I’m sorry I can’t go have ramen with you today.”
Those words moved Takaya.
How could Yuzuru be saying them to him? So naturally, so simply and sincerely that his chest tightened...?
Sudden tears blurred his vision, and Takaya immediately cursed himself. What the hell are you doing, you idiot? He hurriedly took a cigarette and lighter out of his pocket, but couldn’t get the cigarette to light. Yuzuru looked up at him—he was going to see the tears. Was the lighter out of fuel? He couldn’t get a flame out of it. He crushed the cigarette and threw it savagely to the ground.
“Ougi!” Yuzuru called, startled, at Takaya’s back as he abruptly turned.
With his back to Yuzuru, Takaya muttered, “...Learn your lesson yet? Leave me alone, dammit.”
“Ougi...”
“Don’t wait for me again, you blockhead!”
He quickly walked off, burying his face in his scarf as he desperately tried to hold back the overflowing tears. If this went on, he would become weak; he would start to yearn for kindness, even the fake kind.
To wish for warmth...
Yuzuru stood frozen, staring at Takaya’s back. He knew that Takaya had been crying, had seen the wrenching loneliness of that small figure disappearing into the cold wind.
I can hear your voice, your weeping. I can hear it so clearly...
Yet you still refuse to let anyone reach out to you, even knowing how refusal would hurt you...
So the days passed. The first snow fell, then covered the mountains; December went by in a blink, and suddenly Christmas music was playing everywhere...
The heater’s low rumble filled the warm, quiet room. Takaya was sitting on the carpet, gazing at the clouded window. Next to him, Miya had begun decorating the Christmas tree, which she had spent the entire day yesterday digging out of the closet where it had lain lost and forgotten after their move.
“Onii-chan, can you hand me that star? And that fuzzy thing?”
“This?”
The ‘fuzzy thing’ was apparently a garland that went around the tree. He passed them over to Miya, who looked them over carefully while deciding where to place them.
“Isn’t it wonderful that we can all spend this Christmas together at home? We have to go get a cake later.”
“...Yeah.”
Kasai from the family court had talked to their father, who’d finally quieted down enough for Miya and Takaya to return home. Though he’d gone off several times, the eruptions hadn’t been as bad as before. He’d gotten a new job, and seemed to be working at it diligently.
Though how long he’d be able to keep at it was another question...
Takaya had not been to Mitsui’s place for several days. He’d heard that Ichinose, one of Yokomori’s buddies, had finally been released from the hospital about a week ago. He hadn’t seen them at all, but...
The phone rang. Since Miya had her hands full, Takaya stood and answered.
“Hello? This is Ougi.”
“Ah, Ougi? It’s me, Kayama!”
“Kayama?” he asked suspiciously, puzzled at the odd caller.
Kayama shouted into the receiver urgently, “Have you heard about Mitsui?”
“Mitsui? What’s up with him?”
“He got taken in by the police! The day before yesterday or something. They were watching that place they always go to, and they took him away in a police car!”
“What?!”
Right at that moment, the doorbell chimed. He looked at Miya—I can’t get it right now—who sighed and got up to answer.
“And then what happened? The police... So what the heck did Mitsui do...?”
“I don’t know the details, but I’ve heard people say something about drugs...”
“Onii-chan!” Miya suddenly screamed from the door. Startled, Takaya dropped the receiver and dashed to the door.
A group of middle-aged men wearing coats were standing outside the door.
“Ougi Takaya-kun, yes?”
“Wh...!”
What they were holding up to him were, unmistakably, police notebooks.
“We’re from the police. Are you aware of the fact that your friend Mitsui-kun was arrested on suspicion of illegal possession and distribution of narcotics?”
“...!”
“You are under suspicion of the same. We would like you to come down with us to the police station.”
“Distribution...? Wait a minute!”
The men ignored Takaya and began forcefully leading him away.
“No! I don’t know anything about distribution! I didn’t do it, dammit!”
“We’ll listen to anything you have to say at the station. Come along.”
“Let go of me!”
Miya clung to Takaya as he struggled with the men. One of them caught her and held her back in the room.
“Onii-chan, Onii-chan!”
“Miya! I didn’t! I didn’t do it... So I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Onii-chan!”
The uproar roused several of their neighbors. Held tightly between two plain-clothed police officers, Takaya was shoved into the car at the bottom of the stairs. He slid onto the cold seat as the other officers climbed in and shut the door. The adults were silent. To them he was probably nothing more than a suspect, a thing. There was no room for Takaya to move in the car’s cold interior. The blank, impassive expressions surrounding him intimidated him.
(I’m scared...)
This was the first time he had felt such fear. It consumed him, and he couldn’t stop shaking. This was a cold, dark coercive power on a completely different level from Mitsui and the school teachers. He was being taken away by the police...being laid siege to by a massive power which his small existence had no way of contesting.
He didn’t know what to do...
His mind went blank as he shrank with terror like a little bird hunted by a gigantic predator.
“Suspicion of possession and distribution of narcotics—...”
Takaya swallowed.
(Mitsui...)
Yuzuru called Takaya’s place as soon as he heard of Mitsui’s arrest from Kayama, but by that time Takaya was already gone. A sobbing Miya told him that Takaya had been taken away by the police. Unable to sit still, Yuzuru agreed to meet Kayama at Takaya’s apartment and flew out of the house. Kayama had already arrived by the time he got there about an hour later. There was still a crowd of people gathered, gossiping about what had happened in hushed voices. Yuzuru paid them no heed.
“Narita!”
“You said something about Ougi being taken away because of drugs? What the heck is going on?” Yuzuru shouted roughly.
Miya was weeping beneath the tree nearby. Yuzuru crouched and shook her shoulders. “Miya-chan, how did your brother look? What did he say when he was being taken away?”
“That he didn’t do anything. That he’ll be back soon...”
Miya began crying even harder. Yuzuru and Kayama looked at each other.
“Kayama. How did you know about Mitsui?”
“Everyone knows about it. Mitsui held everybody’s strings ’round these parts. Stuff like that, it just went from mouth to mouth.”
“Is it true about Ougi and the drugs?”
“Dunno. He hung around Mitsui’s place a lot.”
Unable to contain himself, Yuzuru ran to the door. Kayama shouted at him, “Where’re you going?!”
“I’m going to ask this Mitsui’s friends. If it’s true about the drugs...!”
“You idiot, that’s not... Hey, Narita!”
Yuzuru had already shot like a bullet out the door.
“I told you, I don’t got any! How many times do I have to tell you I don’t sell drugs?” Takaya desperately refuted the charges in the inadequately-heated interrogation room. There were two detectives cross-examining him, and a third taking notes who stared at Takaya with irritation.
“That’s what all others said at the beginning, too,” said the middle-aged detective with the wily eyes and sprinkle of white in his hair. “You should stop being so stubborn and just tell us the truth.”
“I don’t you the truth: I didn’t do it!”
You just don’t know when to give in, do you? his expression said. He had already decided on Takaya’s guilt before he’d even asked the first question.
“You’ve caused some problems at your school, I see. A fight or two, was it? And you’ve been skipping school and not going home, staying out late at night and hanging around the miscreants in the area? Think you’re pretty high up there, don’t you, telling Mitsui’s underlings to beat up ordinary students at your school?”
Takaya took in a breath. “Wh-who told you...”
“The teachers at your school are pretty weak too, I guess. I feel sorry for them, having to deal with a student like you.”
He started. They must have asked his teachers about him, and they wouldn’t have held back about Ougi Takaya with the police.
“Your parents are divorced, correct? Speaking of which, I believe your father has brushed with the law several times for drinking and violence? Well, there you have it then. I guess there’s no use fighting your blood, is there?”
“...”
“When did you meet Mitsui and his gang? You hung around them, didn’t you? You’ve been on the sidelines, but you’ve been doing some bad things, haven’t you? Hmn... Or is this your first crime? Know how to swim with the tide, do you? You’re one scary kid.”
“I told you, I...!”
“Don’t lie to me!”
Takaya flinched back from the deep angry voice.
“There are four people selling LSD to junior high students in the city, including Mitsui. We’ve already caught the other two, and you’re the last, aren’t you! Mitsui has connections to the Nagano drug dealers—we have proof of that! We also have testimony from those who’ve bought drugs from you! So that’s enough lying to your elders!”
“!”
A total bolt out of the blue. Testimony? What did that mean? Someone had bought drugs from him? Why would anyone have said that?
“What...did Mitsui say...?” The arrogant detective made no response. Takaya unthinkingly stood and walked up to him. “I’m asking you what Mitsui said!”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Fuck you, you asshole! How the hell would I be a drug dealer? Someone told you that I’m selling LSD?! Who the hell was it? Bring the guy who told you that out here right now!”
“Quiet down, you!”
The other detective dragged Takaya away from the detective whose collar he had seized. As Takaya continued to yell and struggle wildly, the third officer who had been taking notes hurried over as well. His arm was twisted behind his back and his face pushed down against the desk.
“Fuck you! I didn’t do it!”
“That’s enough! Calm down!”
“You...assholes!”
Even with his head shoved against the desk he continued to glare at the middle-aged detective. The detective looked back at him scornfully. He had never really intended to listen to anything Takaya said. No—he was determined to ignore the truth and force Takaya to take the blame!
“Uwaaaaaah—!”
The detectives untangled themselves from him at his scream. The last detective suddenly punched him in the face.
“Stop resisting and confess right now! Otherwise we’ll send you to juvenile detention!”
A foot slammed into him as he crumbled to the floor.
“Little shit like you, you don’t learn your lesson until you find out first-hand what prison’s like!”
Takaya had no way of defending himself. He cowered against the blows as the ruthless detectives rained unbelievably foulmouthed jeers on him. His head was spinning. He pressed his hands against his ears.
(Mitsui...!)
Was it you, Mitsui?!
Mitsui’s words echoed in his mind.
“You’re already a badger in a hole, same as us.”
The adults continued to rain abuse on him.
“If I go down, you’re going down with me.”
“You want it to stop? Then confess! Confess and we’ll stop! Punk like you, you’ll be in here soon anyway. It’s all the same, so why not just admit your guilt?”
Takaya bore it all, silently yelling, Mitsui...! Was it you, Mitsui?!
“Same hole, same boat.”
Unable to contain himself any longer, he spat out, the words scorching as blood in his mouth: “You asshole, Mitsuiiiiii!”
(There must be a misunderstanding...!)
Yuzuru was convinced of that.
There must be some mistake! he shouted again and again in his mind as he sprinted towards Mitsui’s garage. No matter how much Takaya had strayed, he was not the type of person to sell drugs.
He suddenly noticed several familiar-looking young roughs walking towards him. It was the third year, Yokomori, and his friends. Yuzuru was about to ignore them and walk right past when—
“Serves him right, that Ougi punk.”
Yuzuru stopped when he heard Takaya’s name.
“The police came and took him away, so he won’t be going home anytime soon. Got what he deserved, that little bastard. Maybe they’ll throw him straight into juvenile detention.”
“He’ll probably never get out again, yah hah hah!”
Strange. Takaya had only been taken away by the police a little earlier. Yokomori and his lot couldn’t have...
Yuzuru started and turned. The group continued to gloat.
“But you actually lied to the cops about buying drugs from Ougi? Sweeeeeet. That’s hard-core, man. But if they call you, you’d better tell ’em you don’t know me!”
“Fuck that Ougi punk, he pisses me off! Serves him right!”
“The cops came over on the double! They probably won’t even need to investigate. Mitsui’s gang is finished, and Ougi fell with ’em. That’s just what we’ve wanted, isn’t it?”
“I’m the one who had to lie, so you guys had better thank me.”
Yuzuru’s face was unrecognizable. He was so far beyond angry that his eyes were completely frozen over. He growled at their backs, “You there, wait.”
Yokomori and the others turned and regarded the frail-looking junior high second-year suspiciously.
“What?!”
Yuzuru glared at them, eyes wide with rage.
The north wind tore past their cheeks.
Takaya’s questioning went right past three until almost four.
When the middle-aged detective finally came out of the room, the officer waiting outside hurried over.
“How’d it go?”
“He’s one stubborn punk. Didn’t confess anything. Looks like this one’s going to take a while,” he answered, and asked, “How about Mitsui and the others?”
“They’re locked up,” the officer replied, disgusted. “Still keeping quiet about the last one. They’re pretty close-mouthed when it comes to their friends.”
“Watching each other’s backs? Lovely,” he responded bitingly, and accompanied the officer to Mitsui’s cell. Mitsui reclined quietly against the wall within the barred room, as composed as if his arrest meant nothing to him.
“Still keeping quiet, huh, Mitsui?”
“...”
Mitsui turned cold, steady eyes towards him, eyes full of an arrogance that seemed to bore through anyone they looked upon.
“Who’s the last LSD seller?”
He didn’t respond—not that the detective had expected him to. He looked at Mitsui, then smirked viciously.
“Well, it doesn’t really matter. Somebody’s already ratted you out.”
“?”
Mitsui regarded him suspiciously. The detective took a seat in front of the bars. “That friend of yours, Ougi Takaya. He’s the other dealer, isn’t he?”
“Ougi...?” Mitsui spoke for the first time, his eyes involuntarily widening as he moved away from the wall. “What...did you say? Ougi? Ougi Takaya?”
“The investigation’s already turned him up even if we didn’t have it from your mouths. So let’s have a confession here. You no longer have any reason to keep your secret.”
“This has nothing to do with Ougi!” Mitsui shouted, jerking forward. “He’s got nothing to do with this! He doesn’t have any drugs, and he’s never sold any! Let Ougi go! He’s innocent!”
“Protecting him won’t do any good. We already have testimony that he sold drugs.”
Rage suffused Mitsui’s face. “That’s a total lie! Whoever told you that is trying to set him up! Can’t you even tell?”
“Nothing you say is going to make a difference. If the last dealer isn’t Ougi, then...” The detective’s eyes flashed in sly calculation. “...Tell me who the last seller is, Mitsui.”
“...!”
“If you tell us, we’ll clear Ougi of all charges. This is dependent on you.”
Mitsui pressed his lips tightly together, smoldering with resentment. The blood vessels at his temple throbbed. The middle-aged detective snorted and left the jail.
(Cowardly fucking asshole...)
He was planning to make a scapegoat out of Takaya even if he was innocent, to use him as a lure to draw the name of the real perpetrator out of Mitsui and the others.
A little while later, Takaya was led into the jail. He looked like he’d been beaten so badly that he couldn’t walk on his own. Their eyes met through the bars for an instant as Takaya was supported past him. Even filled with the hopelessness of knowing that there was no escape, they seethed with hatred.
(Ougi...)
There was the sound of a door opening, followed by the heavy thud of a body falling to the floor. The door closed again, and the cops left the jail.
Mitsui hugged his knees as he brooded.
Christmas Eve. The youths looked up at the night sky through their tiny windows from their cold, cold floors.