Everything that came before...went by unnoticed, leaving only the consequences behind.
And come to think of it... what have I ever done for the world? Have I gotten any smarter in the past year? Have I grown taller? How do people look at me now, the people who first saw me during those three years of school that passed like a wind?
It is said that people are capable of change, and the age at which their thinking lines up is a golden age in their lives. Our age, that of high school students.
I, draped in a soft blanket underneath me, lay on the balcony, snuggled up against the bear pillow I'd bought myself a long time ago, and gazed relentlessly out into the night. There was nothing going on outside, just a dead silence between private courtyards, and only the street lamps lit up the skyline of skyscrapers and high-rises. To a place where silence is never present.
Everything that happened in the life of a high school student couldn't help but leave its mark. That's what we all strive for, to make a world of difference.
It made me recall the past of my high school days. I didn't seem to have much of an interest back then, which made me a target of mockery. I was shunned, considered an outsider among the rest. It was just before I was transferred to a new school.
One boy I remembered involuntarily, whom I first met near the soccer field, on my way home. It was nearing evening, and the crimson glow of the sun was getting ready to hide from public view behind the hills, leaving only the quick rise of a silver moon. This boy stood with the rest of the backstage crowd, watching the older teams play in haste and without a drop of fatigue.
He went to the same school as me. And so did his friends, by the way. As I walked along the road, toward the city street, I glanced over at the silly game of soccer, and then at this boy. Within seconds I noticed our gazes crossed.
But he was watching the game, wasn't he?
"Hey!" he exclaimed, which caused his friends to turn their faces to him as well. "She's in our school, ain't she?"
Over the parallel shouts of adults playing on the field, I could barely hear what this boy was shouting to his friends.
"Ah, that's right, isn't it!"
"She's the one whose locker got a rat slipped in!"
"So she's the offended one?"
And how did my ears manage to hear those nasty things...
These three guys suddenly jumped up to me.
"Hey," he exclaimed to me, running up to me.
"What...?" I stopped, lowering my trembling gaze.
"Look who's here!"
Am I about to be mocked again? Just when will it stop?
"It's for real, isn't it..." one of the three boys wondered. "Ken-kun, she's a little taller than you!"
"What!" the boy turned in a questioning tone, forcing out a face that was utterly unprepared to accept the sordid truth. He was indeed shorter than me and his two pals.
"Really, and how are you gonna make the national team that way, being shorter than the girls?"
"What fools you are! You yourself are a millimeter taller than her, and that's a stretch!"
"Don't call me names, a fact is a fact!"
"You... you will all regret it! There's plenty of time to start playing professionally! I'm sure I'll grow up in that time!"
"Don't you stay so tiny! We ain't gonna wait for ya."
They didn't seem to be trying to insult their friend, just fooling around. They were having fun.
"Does soccer," I added quietly, "matter... height?"
The boys quieted down in a flash, whereupon Ken grinned and put his fist to his heart.
"Yeah, well, how on earth would you know that, you're a girl!"
The rest of the boy laughed out loud. And then he continued:
"Do you know anything about soccer? Hmm?"
"I... actually have a name..."
"Hmm? Well, do you have one? But who really cares — I'll beat you at soccer anyway, I'm good at it! And in height I'll beat you, you'll see, for sure I'll beat ya."
"Akiko Akiyama, my full name..."
Once again the boys fell silent, leaving me to blush for naming myself in front of strangers.
"Okay," he said, causing me to be surprised. "Know this, Akiko Akiyama — you just met a future major league player! Remember my name, which is Ken Iwasaki, for you won't be able to forget me!"
What a dreamy guy he is...
"Can't tell by your name that you're a big guy."
"What did you say?" Ken gasped in anger.
"But in fact, you' squishy," I glanced up and down at him.
Ken, who had noticed me staring at him like that, turned his nose up and looked away. He took a step toward the soccer field, where a timeout had already occurred.
"I'm sure I'll become taller than you," he said one last time, "and you'll have your words back."
His two friends, glancing over at each other, ran to Ken with the words:
"Let's go get ready soon, our team will be playing soon too!"
What a shorty he is, and what a lofty goal he had set for himself! For a moment I even wanted to believe in his bright future — how he would find his popularity and start his career in Major League Soccer. After all, this way he'll be able to take all of Japan to the skies through his efforts.
His plans are too far from reality, but I felt like believing in his abilities. Who knows, maybe in the future I could watch him play as a fan in a national tournament, and if things went much further, on TV?
And every day I started walking out of school this way to watch these people try. Even if they were only playing soccer, to them every moment they spent on the soccer field seemed like something exquisite beyond my comprehension. How are people capable of getting so caught up in this silly business? Is that what they call giving your all to the cause you love?
Well, if so, I was happy for them. I was glad for the fact that these people were able to find their calling.
One fall day I was once again disturbed by these guys. They came running up to me, no longer staring at me as if they saw a girl they didn't know before them, but one who had already become accustomed to visiting them every day, though coming no closer than the distance to the soccer field. Speaking of which, they were getting ready for a match against a team of peers at the time, so they were already unbuttoning the buttons of their fall coats and jackets before they met me.
"Akiyama-chan? Come to see us smash the seventh graders today?" Ken said, in the tone of a guy scoffing at the opposing team. But, for reasons unknown, he was giving his taunt in my direction, too.
"I'm going home as usual. Why, is today's game that special to you? What school are you playing against? You're seventh graders, too."
"Kanagawa Prefecture!"
"They came to play you in the southern part of Tokyo? On the soccer field?"
"They have qualifiers for the city tournament.
I've become much more comfortable keeping in touch with them over these few months. I wouldn't call them friends, though. How would I know, I haven't had any friends in my life.
That's how we got along. I remember how one day he, after measuring our height by eye, with a childish grin noted that he was taller than me by a couple of millimeters. This news turned out to be a much bigger victory for him than I thought it would be.
Boys grow like yeast.
I have since been left with the same height as last year. And every time we happened to see each other, I'd notice how he turned like the Eiffel Tower. Getting taller and taller. I reluctantly accepted this fact, grudgingly listening to his teases.
But it made me happy to see him smile. He grew more self-confident, feeling in his gut how he was getting closer to his goal.
Suddenly, our communication had stopped, ever since I had transferred to a new school.
I didn't think of it as tragic news, because we weren't close friends at all, and at times he pissed me off, too. What a fool I'd been in those days to consider my point of view as one.
On a cold, overcast day two years later, I decided to visit that soccer field, under the guise that I just wanted to take a walk down the good old road that I used to take to and from school.
"What kind of fool would dare to play soccer in this weather?" I muttered to myself, tormenting myself with doubt, on my way to the soccer field.
As I approached, I was dumbfounded rather than surprised by the sight I saw.
There was a guy on a big green field playing with a soccer ball all by himself. No jacket at all, and even from a distance one could see how he was trying not to drop the ball on the ground. The sweat from his face kept getting on his neck, under his sweatshirt.
I watched the maneuvering of his taut, long legs in silence. Soon he too turned his casual gaze in my direction, ostensibly sensing that he was being watched nearby. His eyes widened visibly with surprise; it felt like he was stunned at the sight of his longtime acquaintance. That warm feeling...
It was Ken, visibly mature and grown up in the intervening time.
I waved at him with a smile and watched as he walked leisurely toward me, oblivious to the ball that had fallen on the mowed grass of his favorite soccer field.
As he came close, to the road, I unconsciously sighed, as if I wouldn't screw up my opening words.
"You're all sweaty. Gonna catch a cold, it's five degrees today."
"Why did you leave," he didn't hesitate, in a firm tone, "without saying a word!"
I was at a loss for words, noticing how clouded his view was, and his intentions were not at all comforting — he was as if trying to present his facial expression in a way that would make me feel guilty.
"I'm sorry..." I succumbed to his pressure, in a low voice.
"And yet I've been waiting... How many interesting matches with my participation you missed. How many of my goals... I waited for you to show up, to see your presence again during the game. I waited... but you were gone. There was no sign of you."
"I transferred... to another school."
"I know. I asked around after you left with your classmates. How silly, those jackals seriously thought you were a bad place, claiming everything about you in a poor light. The evil wind was blowing all over the school even after you left, but they kept on and on about the same thing."
"Do they... remember me?"
"You better not know."
"I see..."
...
"Better tell me: why didn't you say anything to me? You left no postcard about your leaving, no message."
"I didn't think you'd remember me."
"Time passes, and you keep dredging up the past."
He finally noticed the changes in my appearance over this long time, and sighed heavily, relaxing his shoulders.
Look at you, all grown up. He's now two heads taller than me!
"Wait for me, I'll get my things."
And so we found ourselves in a cafe. I thought for a second we were on a date, even though it had only been fifteen minutes since we had left the big field. All my tension vanished as he asked me what I was up to. I immediately began to tell him all the nice things that had happened to me in the last year, and he spent his time listening to my stories. He was a a great of a listener.
"You've been having a good time, I see. Dyed your hair, and turned into such a doll! I bet guys are after you in droves."
"You're not so bad yourself, Ken-kun. You didn't even have a haircut before, you looked like a hedgehog. You stopped liking your hair short, didn't you?"
"I've taken care of my looks before!"
"Well, well, don't make it up. Admit it — you got a girlfriend?"
"Well, yes..."
"Really! What's she like? Show me, let me see!"
I wonder if our communication had been so open and warm before.
We've seen each other often since then. Took each other's number and corresponded by LINE. I even went to his games in stadiums sometimes to cheer him on. He played great, so much so that I started to get intrigued by soccer myself! When I imagine our team scoring, I get the creeps... Can it be that the players feel the same in the course of the game, this passionate mania of euphoria after every ball that is kicked into the goal? Maybe all the feelings of being on the field itself are different from the usual observation in the bunk room or cheerleading.
Nowadays, we rarely cross paths anymore. Still, the difference in distance was noticeable, and he had too much time to devote to practice. Recently, the first day of a national soccer tournament was held, and I decided to attend as a fan of Ken's team. His team started in the bottom set against the favorites of the day and the weight on their shoulders seemed to be much heavier than the state of euphoria the players felt about the game itself. If they lost today, they would leave a tournament that had barely begun.
However...
That night, all the stars were aligned against their team.
Bitterly, they left the tournament, and at the end of the match, they and their coach bowed low to our side, the fans' side, deeply apologizing for their pathetic performance. The fans, on the other hand, were unable to let out an extra squeak other than a sad cheer. We, like them in the stadium, struggled not to exacerbate their alienated spirit. Then some of the players lowered their eyes and could hardly hold back tears in an attempt to hide their faces.
After it was over and the players were leisurely going their separate ways, I approached Ken on the street, distant from his teammates. He, already dressed in his city clothes, stood with his back to the railing of the bridge, catching the wind with his droopy face. He was only silent, ostensibly unaware of my presence.
"You cheered for us today," he said nonchalantly, never stopping to look away.
"You showed a decent game..."
"Come on, we played disgustingly. The enemy's determination to win crushed ours and confused us. After all, it was the right thing to say when it was meant that's exactly what wins in soccer. Weakness is no place here, so we lost."
"No, it's not as bad as you think! If you don't believe what I say, ask dozens of your fans. You were willing to turn over mountains to win yours, and they didn't spare their breath for yours!"
"I could hear you trying your best to cheer us on with your screams at every important moment. Your staring faces only stared at the ball as it darted from one side to the other. But our ears refused to hear those screams when we began to lose.
"You're only exaggerating. Another time... Iwasaki-kun, you'll win next time."
"I have my final exams coming up, followed by my university entrance exams. But with my knowledge, I have no choice but to go to college, and that's on a fee basis. If I pass my exams, get a passing grade, graduate, I'll have to quit the school team. How come, I'm already finishing twelfth grade, time flew by so fast... I would like to win this tournament one last time so I can graduate with an award. It wasn't meant to be, as it turned out.
...
I couldn't get a word out, and then Ken continued:
"You see, Akiyama-chan? My golden time is over, and I still haven't achieved a thing. All the years of training, it all went down the drain. It's only because I'm weak. I never got a chance to excel at my soccer game. A fool like me won't get hired nowhere, that's for sure."
"Why do you catch yourself... thinking such terrible ideas?"
"Let's imagine, Akiyama-chan, you have a dream you aspire to, and to achieve it, all you have to do is develop your abilities. In the end, by screwing up, you lose everything. So everything depended on one decision you made, and it was important that it be accurate. Had I passed to Sugawara then... we'd have been tied on points."
All of his efforts... was put into this tournament. How does it feel...the feeling of devastation? I was in his shoes too, losing time after time until I finally lost my mind. I wouldn't wish that on anyone else...
"Is that what life is? A life where mistakes are not forgiven, neither in youth nor in adulthood. The losers are left to clean up the mess for the rest of their lives, while the winners climb higher and higher. Such is the vile life, and there's no escaping it."
"Iwasaki-kun, try to go to university. That way you'll be playing for an adult team of more confident guys..."
"Bullshit. Those who dare to join their institution's team are losers, for they are not allowed into professional organizations. Such players are amateurs, and they make no secret of the fact. I didn't know I'd be in their shoes.
Had he stopped believing in his happy future...? A future where he was able to make it as a man with this ambition and courage to make the right choices? Would these dreams be trampled on by his own frustrations?
"The dream remains but a dream. What a pity..."
"Iwasaki-kun..."
For a brief moment we were silent. It was a moment we needed to cool our minds. What was I supposed to say to him at that moment...?
"I didn't see your girlfriend among the fans today. She used to come to every one of your matches, I remember."
"Oh, you mean Nanako. She and I broke up. She got fed up."
"Too bad she won't get to see your maturation."
After briefly digesting what I'd said with his ears, his not-of-the-moment gaze and thoughts, hovering in the clouds, turned unrestrained toward me. Something rang in him, something that could wake him from his deep self-injury.
"Hm?"
"I've caught myself thinking similar thoughts many times too, feeling like crap. What can I say, sometimes even now, surrounded by nice people, I'm disturbed by some tasks for which I don't have an answer. But thanks to this, I've come to realize that I've moved on. Time after time, after so much unbearable hardship and endless hatred for my person, I never got off my path. Your life is sweet compared to mine, Ken-kun. Unlike me, you're full of dreams and you have something to strive for..."
"Akiyama-chan," sounded his unemotional tired voice, "what are you talkin' bout?"
Ever since I was a child, I have been through terrible things... from being bullied by society to being treated with lewdness by guys. The only thing that prevented me from letting my burdened head go unchecked was my parents. You, Ken-kun, opened my eyes to the fact that even a loser like me can talk normally! So...
"I'll bet," I said excitedly, raising my fists, "in a couple of years you'll be on TV, and every spinster who's been watching that box up till then will exult at your amazing soccer game! It won't do much for those blind jerks from opposing teams, because the center of attention is really the one standing in front of me right now!"
And then, after my loud words, Ken's pupils brightened slightly and his hand flinched. Something clearly cracked in his psyche so hard that his eyebrows immediately rose upward. This, by letting me know that my hopes for him were not idle babble, began the development of my belief in the presence of human compassion. He was clearly impressed, and so impressed that he could not contradict me, as he always did, simply because his lips trembled with such a sweep that it seemed as if he were about to cry.
"Frankly," I added, cooling down, "it's about time for me to leave. My parents are waiting, and I'm sure yours are worried, too. You, don't give up hope, okay? All right. Don't get lost."
I left without any response from him. Ken only turned his quiet gaze toward me, and his thoughtful silence accompanied my departure.
...
Oh, man, I'm embarrassed now! I had said too much about his ex-girlfriend, and I couldn't think of any other way to put it. Lord, forgive me for all the sins I have committed... Oh, and when did I ever embrace the same religion as Glenn? I didn't feel sleepy at all.
I spun tirelessly around the bed, snuggling against the pink pillow. Tears crawled from my eyes in waves of shame. I apologize for my own sentimentality.
It would be interesting to know what Ken was thinking right now... I hope we'll see each other again.
A couple of weeks later, after my final exams and my high school diploma, when I was humbly admiring the manicured courtyard with its mowed lawn from the city hospital building, I received a message from LINE. It made me willy-nilly surprised, since I hadn't received any messages from any messenger for a long time, particularly because I had turned off alerts on many social media sites. When I opened my eyelids slightly to read the text message, I was briefly tongue-tied.
[Ken Iwasaki: Thank you for everything.]