From childhood, Tomoyuki seemed to his peers to be a cheerful child whose sociability hid much more mature traits. Children who got close to him immediately cut ties because of his excessive directness and sincerity. To them Tomoyuki seemed strange: not even because of his buffoonery, the main factor was his innate hatred of lying.
"I'm sorry," said another child, "but you're strange. You always talk only about yourself and things we don't know."
"You're no fun to talk to!" another peer cried out another time. "You always slow down!"
"We don't have any seats available," added another when Tomoyuki was about to play soccer.
He was left without a chance — this kind of behavior from his peers could have a negative effect on human dignity, all the more so when it happened to children. Tomoyuki was no exception: any other society did not really accept him.
These incidents entailed Tomoyuki's fear of showing his true feelings.
However, when he entered middle school, he met three new guys who turned out to be new classmates. These three boys, to Tomoyuki's surprise, had been interacting with him since day one, which made the blue-eyed boy hope for companionship.
Ichiro, Mochizuki, and Rintaro — they became his friends. So close that at one point Tomoyuki himself thought that the relationship between them would not fade away.
Tomoyuki, avoiding unnecessary stares, was in love with a girl from his parallel class, a brightly shining cheerfulness that was fragrant with an aftertaste of delicate fragrance.
After entering the third grade of middle school, the friendship between the four boys went on as before. Even though they were all separated by four classes, it didn't make them see less of each other.
By then, the mood of April reigned in Tokyo, giving people an excuse to look at the beauty of the blooming sakura trees. A ruddy, warm mood. After school ended, when the sky was bathed in the crimson glow of a sunset, they bought soda from a vending machine at the corner of a narrow street, by then deserted. Nothing seemed to bode well for the teenagers until they discovered that three tall high school students from their own school had unexpectedly walked up to them. With their silhouettes, they pinned the boys against the wall and began blackmailing them, saying that this was their private area. One of them took the soda from the defenseless Rintaro.
"Sugiyama-san, Inoue-san, and Matsuoka-san of the sophomores?! What do you want from us?"
It was the three popular bullies from their school, Takashi, Jiahao, and Makoto. Unfortunately, the boys had no idea that these bullies were hanging around. Rintaro, whose brown eyes were stunned open and his hair stood on end, couldn't move: for him, as for the others, this was his first experience with a rabble of bullies he hated.
"What's the big deal?" a gaze of remorse sprang from Takashi's lips as he looked down at them laughingly. "You want to die? Hell, your height is lower that you have to look lower than the plinth!"
Tomoyuki was the only one among his friends who was taller, but even that wasn't enough for him to get up head-on with Takashi without a problem.
"However," Takashi sighed, "since this place belongs entirely to us, you minnows will have to pay the price," and he took on a hard face. "Unfortunately, you have no other choice."
The trembling boys pulled out their wallets and began scrounging for change.
"Why… are you doing this?" misunderstood Tomoyuki, to which the tallest among them, Makoto, took a step toward him.
"Huh?" he lowered his head, covering Tomoyuki with his shadow. "Doesn't that concern you?"
"I'm not going to…"
The blue-eyed youth's attack was quietly interrupted by an agitated Ichiro, "Tomoyuki-chan, just be quiet and give it to them. Plea-se."
"What are you saying?" Tomoyuki stood his ground, whispering to him.
"Ichiro Nakabachi…" Takashi adopted a thoughtful look. "Oh, I remember! We saw each other at the soccer field, you gave your money first thing. Funny boy, don't you like getting hurt on your fragile body? Crying yet, that's right!"
Ichiro lowered his head. Compared to the bullies, they seemed like a helpless rabble of naive children who had an exclusively pacifist life. So Takashi and the boys thought they were an easy target.
Jiahao, after counting the change the laboring Mochizuki gave him, was unhappy with the extremely small amount.
"You can't possibly catch up," Jiahao added. "You have to give all your money away," he said slowly, to make it clearer to Mochizuki's ears.
Mochizuki opened his wallet and pulled out all his remaining money. Tomoyuki, on the other hand, didn't dare to give them his change, and he was sullen to watch this pathetic scene. Among them, Tomoyuki was the only one who had a sense of dignity.
Finally, stopping at the total amount of money, Takashi added without remorse: "Well, you're free to leave now. The guys immediately began to get out, and Makoto and Takashi kicked two of them in the thighs one last time. As Tomoyuki ran off with the others, he was grabbed by Takashi and forcibly put in place, sparing him the opportunity to escape.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Tomoyuki, after all, was also the only one who hadn't slipped them money. He called out to Ichiro and the others, but the friends didn't hesitate to run away. Their faces revealed genuine pity for Tomoyuki, who was left with the three bullies, but the fear that dominated their friends prevented them from turning on him.
"Get out of here quick, before we get you too!" Makoto fiercely fumed, causing the boys to finally scatter away.
Jiahao, who laughed, had a burn scar on his left cheek. "I thought," he said, "they'd turn around and help their friend escape.
"Too bad," Makoto sighed, "it would have been interesting."
Takashi only stared quietly at Tomoyuki's trembling body, whose lowered head hid his utter despair. His friends fled in the face of a fear so grievous and previously unseen by Tomoyuki. He could not have known that there were such grim people as Takashi, Makoto, and Jiahao.
The next school day, Tomoyuki met the boys behind the school. They kept their distance from him, afraid to approach him, even though Tomoyuki was alone.
"Look," Tomoyuki said, "you're my friends, right?"
"Tomoyuki-chan, I'm sorry about what happened yesterday," Ichiro replied for the others. "We were scared and couldn't do anything more…!"
"I understand you…" was ready to forgive them Tomoyuki, inadvertently not trusting their words. "It happens to everyone."
"Look, when we left… When you were alone with them, what happened next?"
Scratching his head, the blue-eyed boy chuckled: "Well, they didn't take my money. One last thing Takashi Matsuoka said to me…", and quoted word for word.
"You seem to be alone. However, what unfaithful friends you have. I think it would be a good idea for you to join us. You'll make some loyal friends by the way."
Takashi uttered each of his expressions with a chuckle, ostensibly emphasizing the absurdity of what he was talking about.
"So I answered instantly that I wasn't going to associate with them," Tomoyuki chuckled consolingly. "Brave of course, but I had to make a point. Do you think they won't leave me alone?"
"I see," Ichiro said regretfully. "His words mean they've picked you up! As hard as it sounds, I suppose you… will going to be their chain dog! A scapegoat."
"What are you talking about? I don't think he meant such terrible things with his sneer…"
Grabbing his elbow, Ichiro lowered his gaze, "Sorry, Tomoyuki-chan, but I think… we should stop talking, because if things keep going like this, we'll be branded as victims too."
"W-what…" Tomoyuki was embarrassed, glancing over at his friends who hung their noses. When he realized the seriousness of their intentions, the blood in his veins froze and he turned pale.
The apology poured from Ichiro's lips like blind rain in a clear sky, making Tomoyuki even gloomier.
"We should stop communicating… for our own good. I don't have a rich family, and Rintaro-kun might get in trouble, since he doesn't have a father… We will all be in danger if we continue to keep in touch with you."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Matsuoka-san and his friends… a bunch of stale criminals, let's be honest! We shouldn't show our faces to them."
"Ichiro-kun, are you guys going to leave me…?"
"Sorry," they said one last time, and turned around and walked away, not daring to look back at the apathetic Tomoyuki.
Tomoyuki fell into despair, his thoughts dulled into a faceless, hopeless despondency due to the emotional breakdown he had just experienced. He held back as best he could from showing all his rage outside — rather, he longed to be left alone to vent his emotions in tears.
The situation of his childhood reoccurred.
The tall silhouette of Takashi appeared from the corner. He walked over to him and placed a hand on his frail shoulder. Crouching back, Takashi whispered to him, "It seems your friends weren't real friends at all. It must be embarrassing to have such an outcome. Tomoyuki-kun, they turned their backs on you as if you were their personal pet. Join us, Tomoyuki-kun, because that won't happen to us — we'll be your real friends."
Tomoyuki dared not utter a word. He was devastated to the bone, oblivious to the distinction between reality and falsehood. The hope in him weathered as quickly as his trust in people. Inside, he thought only one thing: They are not worthy to live.
"Alas," Takashi added with a smirk, "you won't have to bother choosing, for everything has already been decided for you. Don't get the wrong idea: it's for your own good! Accept this fact, Tomoyuki-kun, for now you will share the same air with us."
Underneath Takashi's assertions was his goal of making Tomoyuki an object of extortion, and no friendship was out of the question. Tomoyuki merely followed him, showing nothing but emptiness in his more faceless eyes — exactly what Takashi intended.
When the school day was over, Tomoyuki met Takashi at the front gate, about to leave. Stopping, the tall, brown-eyed teenager suggested he go to the store. Tomoyuki said nothing, and they went to the nearest store. There was clearly a great gulf between them, which made neither he nor Takashi eager to join in the small talk.
When they stopped, they stood at the vending machine outside the store that sold soda and chips.
"You know, Tomoyuki-kun, you might want to stock up on some extra money, because a friendly relationship means spending money."
Turning to him, Tomoyuki asked:
"Takashi-san, are we really friends?"
"Hmm?" Takashi gave him a scornful look. "Who gave you permission to call me by my name with your sorry mouth?" and leaning his hand on the machine gun, he ducked his head toward the apathetic young man. "Have you lost your fear?"
"You call me by my name."
"Because I can afford it — I am your savior. And you, Tomoyuki-kun, my savior? Trust has to be earned, and at a oh-so-high price."
Without taking his face away from Tomoyuki's unimpressive eyes, he continued: "You don't seem to be getting it."
"Don't friends communicate famously?"
"Don't think of me as your equal, weakling. You still have a lot to learn: like coming up in the world first. Just because I let you brag once doesn't mean you can treat me so cavalierly. And why are you making such a desperate face, haven't you been out of the house?"
Tomoyuki lowered his eyes. Come to think of it, he really hadn't had any friends for a long time, which caused him to linger in his house, alone. Sighing, Takashi turned to the machine.
"You don't seem to have seen the negative trait of people at all."
"A negative trait?"
"Yes, people can be horrible. It's understandable: all people have skeletons in their closet, and there's no hiding from it. How did you ever live with your limited outlook on life before?"
Holding out his hand to Tomoyuki, he opened his unbroken palm and said: "Money. I want two sodas for myself." After thinking for a while, Tomoyuki slowly handed him the right amount of change.
Playing with the round coin with his fingers, a calmer tone emerged from Takashi's lips: "I believe that people are inherently divided by their inner world into two types: sincere and hypocrites. Hypocrites, or insincere ones, must be dealt with severely and abandoned. The fact that you decided to give up those friends is a good sign. It means you don't need them."
Putting the money in the receiver, he pulled two cans of soda out of the machine. Removing the lid of the can, he proceeded to drink. Inside himself, he wondered if Tomoyuki was desperate enough to believe his words, or stupid enough to accept them as reality. In his case, Takashi believed what he was saying — it was his experience of life, albeit one that he wished he could forget for all eternity.
"Therefore, Tomoyuki-kun, you will have to be a good friend to us. Down with the hypocrites, they are nothing but parasites!" and looking back at the machine, he looked at the food. "I guess I could use some chips, too."
Soon they were walking down a pedestrian road, and then Takashi wondered where Tomoyuki lived. He needed to cross the highway over the bridge.
"Where is your home?" he finally asked, holding a soda in one hand and an unopened packet of chips in the other.
"Across the street, in a private neighborhood."
"So we're on the same road together."
The glow of sunset was almost gone on the horizon. Standing in the middle of the bridge, Tomoyuki and Takashi watched the cars go by on the highway. Takashi, finishing his soda, did not take his pensive gaze off the fading radiant distance.
"You don't seem to care if you talk to your ex-boyfriends anymore."
"Why bother? They betrayed me; I have nothing to talk to them about."
Surprised by his words, Takashi realized that Tomoyuki was beginning to take his words as truth. Tomoyuki had no choice but to agree with Takashi's claims. In his discouraged state of mind, he eventually chose to leave it at that.
"Fine," Takashi brushed the weight off his shoulders, assured that Tomoyuki was the perfect chain dog.
"Sugiyama-san, you said yourself that people should stop associating with hypocrites and duplicitous people, didn't you? Then how are such different from my friends?"
"Yes…they are. It's important to accept yourself rather than living a double-minded ideal. Living a double-minded life will do worse to yourself."
After a brief pause, Tomoyuki, whose darkish brown hair fluttered in the strong wind, said: "Sugiyama-san, I hate hypocrites and rotten people, don't you?"
Takashi inadvertently wondered who the young man might mean by a rotten man, but ended up agreeing with Tomoyuki's assertion. He was finally convinced of Tomoyuki's usefulness to him — just as his past object of extortion had stopped making contact.
"Well, Tomoyuki-kun, I hope for a long term cooperation with you."
Still, Takashi was out of place when he looked at the unsightly, soulless eyes, and mentally drew comparisons to pitch darkness.