"Fucking street trash! That asshole should've stayed in his place! Why was he even allowed to attend the Academy?! You knew he didn't belong there!" Katsuo yelled angrily. But he wasn't finished venting; he let out a long list of expletives in his native tongue, all directed towards a particular classmate of his.
"Language, Katsuo!" his father scolded, pushing up his glasses in annoyance.
"He broke my nose! Am I supposed to sit back and let that slide?! I never wanna see that fucker ever again!" he retorted back.
Sr. Tanaka groaned lowly. "After reviewing the footage, it appears you agitated Mr. Martinez prior to your little incident."
Katsuo sharply turned to his father. "And that gives him a right to physically assault me?! Whose side are you on, father?!"
"Katsuo, you are emotionally unstable right now. Calm yourself before we go see the principal," his father warned in a low tone.
Although he didn't directly say it, Katsuo knew he was implying the usual 'do not make me look bad' kind of attitude. It was annoying too because the concept also applied to Katsuo, being the son of the school board executive.
Katsuo sulked in the AV seat, angrily scrunching his nose, the bandage irritating him. How he wished it was his mother that accompanied him instead of his father who gave less than two shits.
…
This was Katsuo's first time being called into the principal's office. And to make it worse, it was outside of school hours. Upon entering the grand doors, he made out the familiar buzzed head of Martinez.
The principal welcomed them inside. "Please, have a seat Mr. Tanaka, Sr. Tanaka."
Katsuo sat down next to David, side eyeing him. The street kid's head was stooped low, hands resting on his knees, one of his legs nervously bouncing up and down.
"I apologize this meeting couldn't be done at a more proper time, but there is a serious matter to be discussed…" the principal began.
Katsuo hardly paid attention to what he was saying, staring daggers at Martinez' pathetic form.
'He's gonna expel you, you fucking rat,' he thought. 'And I'm the first to hear him say it. Don't worry, you'll finally get to go back home in that filth of Santo Domingo where all the other trash rats live. It's where you really belong.'
His father was talking to the principal now. Katsuo didn't know why, but that was making him nervous. He crossed his legs, reminding himself that he had nothing to worry about. He had good grades—straight A's in everything. He never caused any disruptions in class and held a perfect attendance record. This was a gentle breeze.
"As the saying goes, there are always two sides to every story," Katsuo heard the principal say, and his blood ran cold.
"Sr. Tanaka… Mr. David Martinez was physically assaulted by your son a day before the classroom assault…" the principal stated. "…and left to tend to his own injuries. At the time, Mr. Martinez was also recovering from previous injuries involving a car accident."
Sr. Tanaka narrowed his eyes. "Where exactly did this previous assault take place?" But he didn't ask the principal—he was asking his son.
Katsuo hesitated. "Memorial Park," he confirmed quietly, bowing his head low. As he did, he glanced at Martinez again, eyes flaring with anger.
'You fucking snitched?!' he thought, fists clenching on his knees. 'You're even more pathetic than I thought…'
He was so consumed by his angry thoughts that he didn't notice a certain recording playing in the background. He swallowed, eyes going wide at hearing his own voice and the words he said to Martinez that one night.
Only then, did David turn to look at him, a very worried and concerned look plastered on his face. In those brown irises, Katsuo could see the sadness and grief that surrounded Martinez. Even his leg stopped bouncing.
David averted his gaze when the recording stopped playing, looking back down.
"That recording was sent to Mr. Martinez the same day he got assaulted by your son," the principal explained. "Judging by the sudden recent incidents between the two of them, it appears that Mr. Tanaka had been harassing Mr. Martinez for some time now."
Katsuo heard his father hum in disapproval. "Unacceptable." He slightly turned his head to him.
"As far as school performance goes," the principal was now talking to both Katsuo and David, "you two have proven to excel on your academic records."
He turned his attention to David, and the street kid sat up straight. "Mr. Martinez, there have been some minor patches with you involving your class, with the current incident being the glitch that was caused by your faulty wreath… But you have managed to pay off the damages since then, and the Academy thanks you."
David gave a small nod.
Katsuo stiffened as the principal moved his attention to him. "Mr. Tanaka, you have managed to keep a clean record at Arasaka Academy, so it strikes me as peculiar as to why you would go out of your way to harass another pupil of yours. Your little fight even caused property damages to your classroom. Pixelated smart glass is not easy to fix without replacing the whole material."
Katsuo wanted to lash out; explain to the principal that if Martinez hadn't punched him, then there wouldn't have been any sort of damages. Any why was everything being pinned on him? It was David who punched him. Why wasn't he getting reprimanded?
"Surely the two of you are very fortunate to attend Night City's only private institution. One doesn't receive the same education anywhere else."
"These actions do not reflect who my son is, and I think I can speak for Mr. Martinez when I say that this also applies to him," Sr. Tanaka explained, briefly glancing at David before turning his attention to the principal. "What transpired is not what the Arasaka Corporation represents. These two should be grateful the company is able to provide excellent teaching services."
Katsuo slightly grimaced. It was all bullshit, and he knew David did too. This was just a common business tactic for leniency.
The adults continued to talk, while the two classmates sat there quietly, too many thoughts going over their heads. This was going to end either really badly for both of them or slightly well.
Then the principal cleared his throat. "Now, as far as both your punishments go…"
Katsuo braced himself, body tense with anxiety. No doubt Martinez was feeling the same too.
…
David was the first to apologize, standing up and looking at his classmate straight in the eyes the whole time. He even apologized to Sr. Tanaka as well, knowing the man probably ran a tight and busy schedule. After he was done, he bowed down in respect to both of them.
Katsuo quietly grunted, that angry look in his face still present. With everything that happened, he made sure that his apology covered everything from the beginning, even using a respectful and sincere tone. When he was done, he bowed to David as well.
"Now, as all business matters go, there is one more thing to ensure that this event will stay in the past and will not arise again in the future," the principal stated. He stood up now, gesturing to both of them. "Shake hands."
David stretched his out first, staring at his classmate. It was the same hand that caused all this trouble, knuckles noticeably bruised.
Katsuo took it in silence, both their hands shaking in a firm but professional grip.
Ugh… This felt disgusting—making contact with someone of Martinez' status. He was going to have to wash his hands after this.
Katsuo hated all of this.
"Katsuo."
Hated his father for siding with the enemy and neglecting his feelings…
"Katsuo…?"
Hated the principal for allowing that fucking piece of shit human trash to continue to attend the Academy…
"Katsuo!"
Hated David Martinez with every ounce of his life, wishing he was never born in the first place—
"Katsuo!"
Blue eyes blinked, taking a quick breath. He glanced to his side, now noticing that David was calling him. The choom's hand was on his shoulder, reassuring him.
"Yo, you okay?" David asked, voice sounding concerned.
Katsuo looked at him, eyes wide with fear. Why were those memories suddenly resurfacing? He felt the hand go away, and he internally winced at the loss of physical touch.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied quietly, looking away and rubbing his eyes tiredly. "I'm sorry, what'd you ask me?"
David pressed his lips, unconvinced. He pushed back the question he wanted to ask him. Katsuo's face seemed pale, eyes slightly red. That look was something new.
"There are bags under your eyes again…" David pointed out quietly.
"Hmm…"
"Have you been getting any sleep?"
"Is that what you wanted to ask?" Katsuo turned his attention to the device in front of him.
"I'm serious, choom," David pressed, glancing at the time displayed on his laptop. It wasn't late, but right now his classmate didn't look too good. "Let's call it a day. I can finish up the rest at home."
"It's fine, David," Katsuo reassured tiredly, now running a hand through his hair.
David could see that he was just staring at the screen, not reading anything.
"You're tired, Katsuo. And I get it—deadline's almost here. Get some rest. I'll catch up with you sometime tomorrow," he said. The weekend would serve them perfectly since they wouldn't have to worry about homework as well. He collected the laptop. "Imma put this back there."
"Keep it…" Katsuo heard himself say out loud. And he actually meant it. Besides, why did he need two of those devices in the first place?
David gave him a perplexed look, a brown eyebrow raised. "Now you're just being delusional… You really need some sleep."
The rich boy rubbed his face, trying to wake himself from his thoughts. He watched as his classmate went to his study area to return the borrowed laptop. When he came back, he grabbed his school uniform blazer—
Katsuo stared at the ruined clothing item. Those shreds weren't from the car accident; he'd seen what they looked like, and his hands clenched nervously. That was the damage of what he caused in that back-alley.
He felt so shitty right now. Looking back at those events, he truly was an asshole. And that wasn't even the worst part…
"Promise me you'll sleep after I leave, choom," David reminded, putting on his blazer.
"Don't think I can…" Katsuo said, shifting himself so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed, laptop forgotten.
The blue-haired boy's face was now staring at the floor. Only now, David could see that his face was plastered with anxiety. Katsuo shifted his eyes to him, and David winced at the expressive emotion.
"Hey, is everything alright?" David asked worriedly, sitting next to him. He was about to place his hand on his shoulder, but held back, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.
"I said I'm fine, David," Katsuo lied.
"It's obvious that you're not, Katsuo," David insisted. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Something's going on."
Well at least his observation skills have improved, but Katsuo hesitated, head stooping low.
David tried a different approach, but if the rich boy didn't want to spill, he'd respect his privacy.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked carefully.
Whatever it was that Katsuo was going through—if he was going through something—David may not have a definitive answer or helpful advice, but he was willing to hear him out. Maybe he just needed someone to talk to.
Blue eyes met his brown eyes. "Why do you care, David?"
It wasn't said in a rude way; it sounded more like it was out of curiosity.
"'Cause…," David began to say, but hesitated.
… you're my friend… he wanted to say.
His heart sank, a small pang striking him. As much as he wanted to believe it, he knew Katsuo probably didn't consider him as such. Despite all the time spent at his home—even having fun with him in that beach braindance—David knew he was reaching.
"… I'm worried about you," he managed to say instead, shrugging off the sadness creeping up to him. "You seemed fine yesterday. Did something happen?"
Katsuo sighed through his nose. No, he felt just as worse yesterday, but it was less evident, and they worked on their essays like normal, taking a shorter break for the sake of wanting to finish the damn thing already.
Katsuo hesitated. Should he even tell David? If he talked, there was a great chance their so-called 'friendship' would end, and he didn't want that to happen. He actually liked spending time with David; his company brought so much warmth.
But if he spoke, would his previous memories cease to invade his mind? Would the nightmares finally come to an end? He mentally prepared himself, not wanting to think of the outcome that would ensue.
Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth. "I keep having dreams—nightmares—about that day…" he whispered softly, hands clenching on his knees.
David's heart rate increased, anxiety pooling in his stomach. "What day?" His voice was quiet with a hint of concern.
Katsuo closed his eyes. This was going to end badly, he could feel it.
"… Heard about your mom… I'd offer my sympathies, but find it hard to sympathize…"
He didn't want to tell him, and he closed his eyes. Fuck! Just remembering what he said that day made him feel sick.
"The day I sent you that recording…" he whispered nervously. "I-I can't sleep. Everytime I try I get plagued with nightmares."
David's blood ran cold, heart dropping.
"…God only knows what she had to endure to send her delinquent son to an academy he doesn't belong at…"
"The first one started two days ago…"
"… Her methods couldn't've been noble if she died in a car accident. So mundane…"
"But yesterday, they were nonstop…"
"… But, you know, karma…?"
"I stayed up all night…"
"… There's a lesson in this, David…"
Katsuo tensed, planting his face in the palms of his hand. "I'm a horrible person, David…"
"… Your mother tried to live beyond her means and died…"
"You didn't deserve to go through that pain…"
"… Don't make the same mistake. Drop out, Martinez. Do that, and maybe her death won't be in vain…"
His elbows were now on his knees, hands gripping his hair tightly, tugging. He ignored the pain, knowing deep down that he deserved far worse.
"I'm so fucking sorry, David," he said weakly. His hands were trembling now, and he gave a shaky breath, heart beating fast against his chest.
After all that trouble, that was all he could muster up. He cursed himself mentally. Was he so selfish and self-centered that he couldn't even come up with a sincere and meaningful apology? The one he gave during their meeting with the principal was all for show—there was no way around it for both of them. Looking back, he now understood why David sought him out in the bathroom…
But right now, what else was he supposed to say? His mind was attacking him and he was too tired to focus on clarity.
David sat quiet beside him, not a single word spoken. Katsuo slowly looked over at him. He was doubled over, arms holding his head. His foot was bouncing in that nervous matter too.
"David…?" Katsuo hesitated, shakily resting his hand on his classmate's shoulder.
David flinched at the contact, and he squeezed his eyes shut, Katsuo retracting his hand. He didn't want to relive that moment again. It was too painful and disturbing. Coming home to his apartment would never feel the same again, knowing his mother was gone forever.
He took a breath, whispering, "I never wanted to go to Arasaka Academy…"
Reminiscences of the car ride on the way home flashed back to him, remembering how he made his mother cry when he told her he considered dropping out.
"I only did it for my mom… She wanted me to have a future…"
He recalled how Trauma Team left them on the highway; how he couldn't even see his mother at that run-down hospital facility because of his financial situation.
"We were late on rent… I had to crawl through a vent to get inside my apartment…"
His mother managed to pay the rest of the wash cycle that day, his school uniform clean and neatly folded for him when he arrived home.
"I had hope she would pull through the next day, and so I carried on like usual…"
All he could remember next was Katsuo's smug face as he antagonized him, accusing his mother of demeaning herself to pay for his tuition. His two lackeys were in the back, watching casually as Katsuo beat him up, not holding back.
"After you attacked me, I received a call…"
Katsuo gritted his teeth in dread, looking down in shame. He knew what happened next.
"That day was the worst day of my life…" David softly whispered. His vision became blurry as tears started forming in his eyes.
He turned to face his classmate, and Katsuo saw that same pained face from back in the meeting.
"Why…? Why did you say those things?" David quietly asked him, staring him straight in the eyes, a single tear running down his cheek.
Katsuo visibly swallowed in guilt, not knowing how to answer.
"I… I don't know, David," he responded quietly, turning away. It was a bullshit lie, but he wasn't the same arrogant and entitled asshole from months ago.
Back then, he just wanted David to drop out. He thought if he constantly tormented and harassed the kid, then maybe he would take the hint and leave all together. But that wasn't the case, and it almost ended up costing him his own education.
"I'm sorry," he continued. "I really am…"
But it wasn't enough, Katsuo knew. It didn't even feel enough, saying those few words that held so much meaning behind them. His breath caught in his throat at the realization that David would never be able to forgive him. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine. How would he be able to make up for the physical and emotional pain he's caused?
"Since then, I've always wondered…" David began weakly, staring down. "… What if I didn't cause that glitch to happen in class? What if my mother never went to go see the principal? Would she still be alive to—?"
He got cut off as he felt Katsuo pull him into an embrace, arms gently wrapping around his hurt form. His face was flush against the rich boy's chest, a hand cradling his head.
In the most sincere and meaningful tone he could muster up, Katsuo affirmed, "It's not your fault."
David gave a shaky breath. Soft and quick thuds could be felt from his classmate's heartbeat as his face pressed against him.
"Don't blame yourself, David," Katsuo soothed, his hand caressing soft brown hair. "Please."
David's eyes began to water again, and he fully hid his face against Katsuo's chest.
For so long, he hadn't had time to properly grieve from the loss of his mother. The city just never gave him a break—he was too preoccupied about how he was going to manage to make rent by himself after that. His tuition was fully covered after the incident with Katsuo—the rich boy's punishment was to pay for the rest of the school year. But even then, just rent alone was stressful enough, and he knew that the large sum in his mother's account wasn't going to cover him forever.
For so long, he blamed himself for his mother's death. He vividly remembered her telling him not to cut corners, that she can just pick up an extra shift to provide the sufficient funds for his school wreath, but he never listened, and it ended up costing her life. What an idiot he was. Why couldn't he just listen to her?
Katsuo held David closely as he silently wept. It hurt to see him like this, trembling and shaking. What felt worse was knowing that this was all his fault. He bullied David for simply being poor. He even had the audacity to insult his mother and mock her death afterwards, saying those nasty and hateful remarks. Those words were his choice—that recording was his own doing. No one told him to commit such a sinful act. He acted on his own free will, and for that, he will never be able to forgive himself.
And now, he made David cry, which for some reason felt a hundred times worse. Just hearing him give shaky breaths as tears rolled down his face gnawed at Katsuo's heart. He supposed the feeling was because he had never seen David in such a depressive state before.
Back in the beach braindance, he was smiling and laughing, having a fun time, and Katsuo felt how much the choom radiated warmth and comfort. To see someone like David, who not long ago was enjoying himself, crumble to pieces before Katsuo's eyes was enough to stir his heart in remorse.
He softly petted David's head with one hand, while the other rubbed at his back. No one's ever been this distraught in front of him to the point where they needed to be consoled. He wouldn't dare try to shush his classmate in such a state. His actions resulted in this emotional breakdown. He would let David take his time.
Hmm… he thought. Why am I not crying…?
He closed his eyes, slightly wincing from the exhausted burning sensation that ensued. There just wasn't enough energy for him to shed tears. He mentally scoffed at himself. It was either that, or he was just still too selfish to show any empathy.
Shaky hands bunched his dress shirt, and he heard a quiet and muffled, "'M sorr—"
"Stop," Katsuo cut in firmly but sincerely, pulling David closer. "It's not your fault. You don't have to apologize for anything."
David's arms began to snake to his classmate's sides, but he hesitated. Would that be too much? He was already being held like the broken child that he was.
Katsuo noticed. "It's ok. You can hold onto me."
At the confirmation, David allowed himself to embrace Katsuo back. The rich boy smelled nice as he planted his face against his chest, trying to bring his snuffled breathing to a more calm state. His crying had stopped, but there were still a few gasps here and there, and yet Katsuo still held onto him.
Among other things, this was highly embarrassing, showing this much vulnerability. No doubt his classmate's dress shirt was a wrinkled mess, mixed with the wetness of his tears.
But the rich boy could care less. Right now, Katsuo felt as if he could hold David forever. The choom was so warm, and it felt right being closely embraced by him. His eyes wanted to close on him, but he ignored his fatigue. This was certainly not the time to doze off.
He loosened his embrace as he felt David begin to pull away, the choom's head staying low and eyes averting him entirely.
"I need to go…"
———
The ride back up the elevator felt cold. It felt even colder when he stepped into his apartment again, the entire atmosphere feeling distant knowing what had just occurred.
Shira gave him a confused and concerned look. "You didn't walk him out?" It was seen as rude, considering he had done it ever since he first invited David over.
Katsuo sat down on one of the kitchen island bar seats. "He didn't want to be," he clarified, looking down as he fiddled with his fingers.
"… Did something happen, Mr. Tanaka?" she asked cautiously.
She saw David earlier, and they exchanged greetings like before. But before he left today, he seemed very upset. He still said his goodbyes in respect like always, but his eyes were red. And now Katsuo was acting strange. This was highly irregular.
He hesitated, running his hands through his hair. "Do you remember the time I went to the hospital earlier this year?" he asked, staring at the clean surface.
Shira pressed her lips thin, but didn't think too much of it. "Yes."
She had heard an earful of the events coming out of Katsuo's mouth that day when he got discharged, even going as far as saying a lot of colorful words in his expanded vocabulary. But she never knew the identity of who assaulted him. Neither Katsuo nor his father ever mentioned a name.
"It was someone from my class," Katsuo continued. "He sits right next to me."
Okay, now she saw where this was going. At this point, he didn't need to explain any further.
"It was David," Katsuo confirmed, tapping on the smooth surface.
"Mr. Tanaka—"
"I know what you're thinking, Shira, but he means no harm," he interrupted. He gave out a long sigh. "I deserved it."
He knew that if she had found out some time ago, David would not have received that warm welcome and would have been instantly seen as a threat to the Tanaka family.
"Is he not your friend?" she asked, wondering what was going on in Katsuo's mind.
"I don't think he'll ever want to be after today," he sadly revealed. "The things I said to him—"
He covered his mouth in shame, face twisting in horror as he recalled his past.
Shira went to sit next to him. This new look of his didn't bode well with her, but she would try to hear him out.
"What exactly happened?" she asked respectfully.
Katsuo sighed. "I was so mean to him before, Shira," he breathed out, palms of his hands hiding his eyes. "I said some godawful things to him and I even beat him up one time."
He slouched back on his seat. "And I just left him there, bleeding."
Shira saw that he wasn't finished explaining, so she let him continue.
"And that's not the worst part, Shira. Later that day I heard about the passing of his mother a-and I-I—"
No, he couldn't even finish that sentence. That's just how fucked up the whole situation was—how fucked up he really was to him.
He sharply looked away. "I just wanted him to drop out, that's all! He was never cut out for Arasaka Academy! No one wanted him there! He caused a lot of problems in our class—!"
"Katsuo," she cut in firmly with authority, and he stopped, bowing his head low. It had been years since she's had to scold him.
What Katsuo had spewed out were all excuses, Shira knew. Upon closer inspection, David certainly didn't seem like the type of wealthy scholar; his ripped uniform and worn out sneakers gave it away, but that didn't mean he didn't have the intelligence or motivation than any other student to continue to enroll.
"You should know better than to belittle and berate someone simply because of their socioeconomic background," she said in a low tone.
Katsuo clenched his hands, head still low. "I know, I know! And I'm sorry—!"
"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."
Katsuo took a breath, closing his eyes momentarily. "I did apologize to him."
"So I've been told," she said. "Katsuo, those few words cannot fix the emotional trauma Mr. Martinez has been through."
"He's not gonna forgive me, Shira," he pointed out.
She sat up straight. "Is that what you are most concerned about?"
Fuck… Now that she mentioned it, he realized he sounded extremely selfish.
"You cannot always expect forgiveness to be given."
He turned to her. "Then why should I apologize again if he's just gonna hate my guts from now on?"
Shira gave a small smirk. "You see him as a friend, no?"
He did, didn't he? After the beach BD, he just wanted to hang out with David even more, even show him the inside of the mall. But the thought of the choom distancing himself from him made his heart wrench in agony.
"It may or may not mean anything to Mr. Martinez," Shira continued. "But it is the honorable thing to do."
She stood up from her seat. "Apologize to him correctly… and in person."
That last part was important; a recorded message or text sounded cowardly. But what did she mean by 'correctly'?
That feeling of anxiety was now coursing throughout Katsuo's whole body.
In his room, he planted himself on his bed, too tired to think about anything else but David. A sweet and gentle boy like him deserved nothing but the world, Katsuo knew. And he royally fucked everything up…