Clasping his hands together in apology, Haruki declared with utmost sincerity, "This time, I'm dead serious. I won't be able to accompany you to the gate."
Kentaro leaned against the classroom exit, his satchel casually slung over his shoulders. Shooting Haruki a bemused look, he thought; Oh, we're doing this again?
This surnamed Fukuda had sprinted all the way here only to repeat yesterday's stunt. Who did he think he was fooling?
Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, Ken quipped, "Stalking me again today?"
"Oh, come on, that was a one-time thing," Haruki glanced around, sensing the odd stares from onlookers. "I already got the information I needed, so there's no need for that anymore."
"How can I be sure?"
"Well..."
"Fukuda, let's go," a voice interrupted from behind, breaking their conversation. They turned to find two of Haruki's classmates, a boy and a girl, standing impatiently near the end of the hallway.
The girl spoke up, "You know how sensei gets when you miss practice. You already skipped yesterday."
"Alright, alright, I'm coming," Haruki responded before turning back to Kentaro. "See, I was being honest."
The ginger-haired kid remained silent for a moment, then snorted and veered off, heading his own way. "I don't get why you keep telling me these things. So weird."
And so, the two went their separate ways, with Kentaro heading straight home. As he walked, he couldn't help but think; I'm not his time-keeper. I don't need to keep track of his whereabouts. He can go wherever he wants for all I care. So clingy.
But a smile tugged at his lips, knowing that there was someone who still valued his opinions.
Following the familiar route he had taken for the past four days, Kentaro cut through the increasingly-familiar alleyway.
His mind brimming with thoughts of his weekend plans with Haruki, he failed to notice the two figures lurking at the end of the deserted passage. They stood on opposite sides, seemingly blocking the exit.
When he finally raised his head, all color drained from his face. In a split second, Kentaro made a hasty U-turn, hoping the two boys ahead wouldn't spot him.
But it was too late.
"Hey, you little squirt! Where do you think you're going?"
Kentaro broke into a sprint. Unfortunately, his short legs could only carry him so far, and he was quickly caught, forcefully shoved against a grimy brick wall. The impact was somewhat cushioned by his satchel, but it still left him in a less than graceful position.
Unyielding, he stared up at his adversaries, his expression revealing that he had long since expected this outcome. After all, these two had never ceased tormenting him.
Yasahiro Oihama and Jomei Sugimoto—the first real human garbage Ken had encountered since arriving in this town.
He had never anticipated crossing paths with them again at Ichihara Mid after their initial unpleasant encounter. It was even more disheartening to realize that these wretched individuals were actually his seniors.
Only the two of them remained now. Ryoichi Kojima and Kazuo Takagi had long since abandoned their group.
Arms crossed, Yasahiro smirked, "Did you really think you could hide from us for long?"
The ginger-haired kid continued to glare daggers at them but chose to remain silent.
Still holding him roughly by the collar, Jomei pointed to his own ear. "See this? I won't stop beating your scrawny ass until it heals."
Kentaro stared at the wound for a moment, then shifted his gaze to the big guy's bandaged nose. He let out a snicker.
"You little..." Jomei's face contorted into an ugly expression as he raised his fist. However, his punch never landed as the other senior suddenly intervened.
"Wait a moment, before you render him completely speechless, I have a few questions for him."
Reluctantly, Jomei released his grip, letting the kid slump onto the ground.
With a furrowed brow, Kentaro finally spoke up. "I actually have something to ask you too. What's the grudge? I understand the big guy with the messed-up ear, but what about you? Why do you keep coming after me?"
Yasahiro smiled, crouching down in front of Ken, his expression unnaturally calculated.
"Because you're the perfect outlet for all my pent-up frustrations."
He made it sound as if it were the most ordinary thing to do, as if bullying another kid to rid himself of his own problems was somehow acceptable.
How was that fair?
"And it's also because you're different from all the other kids I've encountered," Yasahiro continued, his hand playfully toying with Kentaro's curly ginger locks. "For some reason, you haven't dropped out."
Kentaro's expression turned quizzical. "???"
"You even cost me my companions, yet it doesn't seem to faze you," Yasahiro said.
Was he referring to those other two?
Kentaro's sense of injustice surged, a wave of resentment crashing over him. "You're the ones who came after me. Remind me how whatever happened between you guys is my fault again?"
Yasahiro's words hit Kentaro like a cold, hard truth. "If it hadn't been for you, that freshman wouldn't have lost it," he stated matter-of-factly. "And Kazuo and Ryoichi wouldn't have walked away."
Evidently confused, Ginger continued to stare at the other person.
"You still don't understand? I'm saying you looked particularly buddy-buddy with that freshman. He a friend of yours?"
"And what if he is?" a grin stretched across the kid's lips. "You know that, yet you still had the guts to come after me? Once he finds out, you're as good as dead."
"If you're so damn confident, why haven't you spilled the beans?" Yasahiro's smile vanished in an instant as he seized a fistful of Ken's hair, yanking him closer. "Why not just confess to him already?"
Ginger's eyes widened in genuine shock. "I always knew you were nuts, but this is a whole new level. You're really itching to get yourself killed, huh? You saw what he did to your buddy there."
Jomei clicked his tongue. "I was just momentarily distracted, so don't get cocky, brat."
"You guys are pathetic. I'm glad the other two bailed on you—"
Kentaro's words hung in the air, abruptly cut off by a sharp blow to his left jaw. His glasses flew off, and a ringing pain reverberated through his head. He hadn't expected Yasahiro, the one who always stayed clean, to suddenly throw a punch.
Even Jomei looked surprised. Until now, he had always been the one to get his hands dirty, while Yasahiro watched from the sidelines.
With a wicked grin, Yasahiro taunted, "Sorry, didn't quite catch that. Did you say something?"
An iron taste flooded Kentaro's mouth, but his gaze remained unyielding, despite the excruciating pain pulsing through his bruised face. He locked eyes with his assailant, refusing to back down.
Yasahiro leaned in, his voice dripping with menace. "Cat got your tongue?"
Kentaro: "Ptui!"
The sixteen-year-old froze as the spittle landed on him, eyes wide with shock and incredulity. The sight of Kentaro's sneer only fueled Yasahiro's rage.
Infuriated, Yasahiro hauled Kentaro away, wiping away the "insult" trickling down his cheek. "You thought just because I haven't been the one beating you up, I wouldn't do it, huh?! Well, today's your lucky day. You've officially pissed me off!"
Kentaro crashed against the opposite wall, his body heavy with pain. He silently prayed for this torment to be over quickly.
But he wasn't about to lie there motionless, allowing himself to be pummeled without at the very least trying to protect himself. So he did just that. As the two boys closed in on him, Ginger curled into a protective ball, shielding his face and gut, bracing for the relentless onslaught of kicks.
"What are you hiding for? Where's all that bravado?" Yasahiro unleashed his fury, striking wherever he pleased.
Only then did Ken realize that it was Yasahiro's feet alone relentlessly assaulting him. He stole a glance at Jomei, who stood there, watching his friend as if even he thought Yasahiro had lost his mind.
He's really lost it; Ken thought, a sigh escaping him. If Haru were to witness this, what would become of them?
***
Haruki effortlessly dispatched his fifth opponent, sending them crashing to the ground, securing yet another victory in the ring. By now, such triumphs had become routine for him, leaving the other club members unfazed.
Within the judo club, it was an accepted truth that no one could best Haruki in a practice match, regardless of their seniority. Even their sensei struggled to match his skill, despite Haruki being a mere fourteen-year-old.
Following the match, a first-year girl from another class approached their sensei, voicing her dissatisfaction.
"It's obvious that Fukuda is unbeatable. He never gives us a chance to win," she accused. "Why hasn't he been promoted to the senior group, sensei?"
Haruki nearly snorted at her complaint. Did she truly believe he relished facing off against novices like her? It was anything but enjoyable.
"He may be talented, but he belongs in your age group. Instead of complaining, perhaps you should learn a thing or two first," the instructor gruffly responded, eliciting suppressed snickers from the rest of the class.
"Idiot, doesn't she realize sensei's in a foul mood today?" some whispered, barely containing their amusement.
The girl's cheeks puffed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. Sensing Haruki's mocking gaze, she turned to glare at him.
Haruki smirked in response, further infuriating her.
Amidst his silent laughter, he rejoined his group, engaging in their conversation. Both group members were his classmates, and they shared a decent bond.
"Damn, if I had Fukuda's skills, I'd be unstoppable," an adjacent group member praised him, filling Haruki with a sense of pride.
"Alas, such talent wasted on a buffoon," Takumi Shimoda teased as Haruki approached him and Tadashi Matsui. "Have you considered teaching your friend from class 1-2 a few moves?"
"Ginger?" Haruki chuckled. "Nah, he's not interested in this stuff. I'm pretty sure he prefers activities that don't involve physical contribution."
"Is that his opinion?" Takumi pondered. "He hasn't joined a club yet, right? I always see him heading straight home after the last period. Wouldn't it be great if he joined? What do you think, Tadashi?"
Tadashi Matsui simply shrugged, his attention fixed on the new opponents in the ring.
Observing the blatant disregard, Takumi clicked his tongue and turned back to Haruki. "Anyway, it's not a bad idea. I've never had a proper conversation with the guy, but I'm sure he's cool since you talk about him so much. You two seem really close. Childhood buddies?"
Haruki's face lit up, a wide smile spreading across it. "I met him during summer vacation, and we've been friends ever since."
"Really?"
"Yeah, is that hard to believe?" Haru inquired.
Takumi replied, "Not at all, just a bit surprising. Until the last days of the first term, I barely knew your name. You were so distant from everyone else. And the only person you ever mentioned in conversation was your older sister."
"Really?" Haruki struggled to recall.
His companion nodded.
Filled with shame, Haruki chuckled in apology, "Sorry about that."
Just then, someone called out to him, capturing his attention. It was a pretty first-year student with pigtails.
"Some seniors are looking for you outside," she informed him.
"Club members?" Haruki questioned, his skepticism creeping in.
"No, but they gave me their names. There's Kojima-sempai and Takagi-sempai."
Haruki raised an eyebrow. Why were they seeking him out?
"Wow, dude, you're becoming famous even outside the clubroom," Takumi snickered.
I don't think that's the case; Haru thought to himself, as he rose from the group. "I'll be back in a few."
..
Kazuo warmly greeted Haruki the moment he joined them outside the club room, his voice filled with genuine apology. "Sorry to bother you when you're busy."
Haruki returned the smile, but his tone carried a hint of guardedness. He hadn't completely let go of the past incident with Ken, though he wasn't outright hostile towards Kazuo and Ryoichi. At least not anymore.
Kazuo's voice wavered with uncertainty as he asked, "Do you remember us?"
"Yeah," Haruki spoke as he glanced around. "But you seem to be missing two more."
Ryoichi interrupted, making it clear they were not associated with the missing individuals. "We're not with them."
"Oh, but you used to be," came Haru's response.
Eyes shifting to the side, Ryoichi's silence spoke volumes.
Kazuo let out an awkward chuckle, scratching his temple. "I guess that's true. It's understandable if you dislike us. We're truly sorry for what happened that day."
Haruki let out a sigh. "It's all in the past. It's not like you're the ones who beat Ginger up."
"And we're also sorry about Oihama and Sugimoto, for causing you more trouble," Kazuo added, bowing slightly. "They can be relentless."
"Why are you apologizing on their behalf again?" Ryoichi muttered, crossing his arms. "They can handle their own messes."
Haruki caught on to the first part of Kazuo's sentence. "More trouble?"
Kazuo and Ryoichi exchanged glances, realizing Haruki was genuinely unaware of the situation. Ryoichi took the lead in explaining, his voice brimming with uncertainty. "A few days ago, they started picking on your friend again. Didn't he tell you? Nomura, right? The one with ginger hair from that day?"
The corners of Haru's mouth turned downward, a mix of worry and frustration etching his features.
His two seniors noticed his genuine surprise and began filling him in on the details.
***
Kentaro slumped against the wall, using it as a crutch, his hand clutching his aching gut while his bruised face painted a grim picture.
His throat throbbed mercilessly, making speech currently a difficult. Pain permeated his entire being, leaving him uncertain if his bones were fractured since everything in his body hurt.
This dude is seriously unhinged; Ginger thought, his gaze fixated on Yasahiro, who stood before him, with a twisted satisfaction emanating from his every pore. Seriously, does he not feel bad at all?
His eyes shifted to Jomei, who remained frozen in his original position since Yasahiro's assault began.
Jomei's expression was a mix of guilt and satisfaction, leaving Kentaro baffled as to what exactly was going on in the guy's mind. "Hey, Oihama, I think..." he finally spoke up, snapping from his stupor because of the ginger-haired kid's stare, "I think we should get out of here. You know, before someone spots us and reports—"
Jomei's words trailed off as Yasahiro shot him a withering glare, silently compelling him to shut up.
Kentaro wanted to say something as well, but the throbbing pain in his throat rendered him temporarily mute.
Just great.
"Anything you'd like to share?" Yasahiro grinned, crouching down in front of Ginger, offering his ear 'graciously'. "I'm all ears. Go ahead, speak up. I promise not to hit you."
Kentaro's lips curled with indignation; You're so smug because you know I can't retaliate at the moment.
Misinterpreting the smile, Yasahiro grew irate, assuming the kid was mocking him. With an ugly laugh, he sneered, "You're a mess, and yet you still think you have the upper hand. Are you begging for more?"
What did I do now? Ginger wondered. I can't tell if he's mean or just stupid.
"We really should go, Yasahiro," Jomei interjected anxiously, scanning the surroundings, worried that righteous bystanders might stumble upon them and report their actions. "We'll have tomorrow and many more days after that. If we get caught now, we'll be in trouble."
"Tch, wimp," Yasahiro muttered to himself, straightening up and sighing. "Fine, since you're so scared, we'll just... Wait a minute," he squinted, trying to make out the figure approaching them in the dim alleyway. "Who's that?"
Jomei followed his gaze. "Looks like a kid. Doesn't that outfit look familiar?"
Curiosity piqued, Kentaro turned to look as well, every movement causing him excruciating pain. The strange uniform initially masked the person's identity, but as soon as Kentaro recognized him, his expression turned ashen.
Jomei seemed to have noticed too. "Oihama, I think it's the brat from that day, the first-year."
"Oh?" Yasahiro's grin widened as he too recognized the figure. "Well, well, isn't today our lucky day?"
~~~~~~