Chapter 25
“What happened to you?” Naoyuki finishes laying out his math homework on the desk top, then sits down and looks blankly up at Taki. “Your face,” Taki says, pointing to his bruised cheeks. “What happened? Did somebody hurt you after school yesterday?”
Gently patting one side of his face, Naoyuki says, “My progress report was bad.”
Taki blinks confusedly at him. That was all he had to say? Someone hurt him, and all he could worry about was his grades? Heaving a sigh, she thinks, I guess he doesn’t feel like telling me. Oh well. At least he cares about his grades – I’m sure he could be worrying about lots of other things right now. “Math, huh?” was all that came out of her mouth, despite all the questions she wanted to ask him – like the thoughts that yesterday’s talk about step-siblings had brought up; like how Naoyuki’s friend had wound up in the hospital; like why he was so awkward around other people, including her, even though at least he talked to her casually enough. Add what happened to him yesterday to the list.
“I’m not sure how the mixed numbers work,” Naoyuki says.
“Mixed numbers? Well, you take the improper fraction and – ”
“Oh, I can stay after school to work on this now, too,” Naoyuki adds.
“What, you’d rather – ?”
“I’d rather do it with you than a teacher,” Naoyuki admits.
Taki smiles a little. “All right,” she says. “But remember, I’m not available after school on Wednesday or Fridays because of basketball practice. And once in a while, I might have a basketball game on other days. I’ll call my mom and ask her if I can stay after today. Is your mom picking you up?” Naoyuki nods.
“Anyway, let’s talk mixed numbers,” Taki says. “You take the improper fraction – that’s when the bigger number is over the littler number – then you see how many times the bottom number can go into the top number – It’s division, see? The number of times it goes in becomes your whole number,...and the leftover is the top number in your fraction. The bottom number stays the same. And that’s the mixed number.” All the while, she scribbles down examples to show him.
Naoyuki scribbles down the workings for the first problem, then asks, “Like this?” and scoots the paper toward Taki, who examines the math.
“That’s right. You’ve got it,” she replies with a smile. “You’re pretty quick to catch on.” She watches as Naoyuki pulls the paper back, flips it around, and gets to work, concentrating hard. There’s definitely nothing wrong with that little head of his, she thinks. He picks things up quicker than a lot of other kids his age. So why is he so stubborn about talking? If he’d just talk, he wouldn’t have this bullying problem; there’d be no excuse for anyone to call him retarded. She looks around the study hall at the other kids, most of them goofing off or reading. He works too hard to let people think he’s slow. “Naoyuki, you’re smart, you know,” Taki says quietly. “If you just talked, acted more friendly...” He isn’t listening; he was too concentrated on his math. Taki falls silent, not wanting to distract him – or embarrass him if anyone overheard. I don’t want to make him mad at me again, she thinks. No – well, there’s that too, but – he’s just too easy to hurt; I don’t want to hurt his feelings by putting him on the spot.
Taki recalls Naoyuki’s answer when she asked him why he didn’t stick up for himself. He said he only talks to me because I’m the only one who treats him like a person instead of some kind of special case – because I accept him for who he is, instead of focusing on the things he doesn’t do. If it bothers him so much, then why does he choose not to talk? I don’t get that. It’s not that he can’t – even though he does seem extremely shy. Maybe that’s why. He did say he chokes up around other people, but...He talks to me, but at the same time, it seems like he’s always trying to push me away. That’s another thing I don’t get. Like Hitomi said, maybe he likes to keep his distance. But he doesn’t like it when people dislike him. So why? My head hurts just trying to figure this out...
“Taki, the bell’s about to ring,” Naoyuki says.
Already? Taki hadn’t realized that she’d spent so long mulling over her thoughts while Naoyuki worked. “Are you all set, then?” Taki asks. “Need anything else?”
“I have to finish this first.”
“Okay. I’ll be on my way, then,” Taki says. “If my mom says I can stay after school to help you out, I’ll meet you at your last class.” She watches Naoyuki nod in reply, then gets up from her desk, picks up her books, and walks out into the hallway. I’ll have to ask about what happened later, when we’re by ourselves.
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“Naoyuki, it’s time for bed!” his mother calls up from downstairs.
Naoyuki puts down his pencil and closes up his books. His stepbrother comes silently into the room, takes one look at him, and quickly turns away to head for his bed. Sighing softly, Naoyuki stacks up his papers and books, then dumps the load into his backpack. At least he and Taki had made some headway in the math area – put a dent in the work load. But, sorting through the rest of his folders, he realizes that there is still a lot to go. I worked on it ‘til bedtime. The only break was dinner – and going to the bathroom, and brushing my teeth. At this rate, I’ll never get it all done. It just keeps piling up. He rubs his aching head. Bed is good, he thinks. My head needs a long break. Naoyuki zips up his backpack and sets it aside, next to the wall.
Pulling up his blanket, Naoyuki settles into bed and tries to get comfortable. He reaches for his teddy bear, but stops himself and settles for giving its soft fur a pet. He curls up and waits for sleep to set in. But thoughts set in instead. Taki was asking questions – questions that Naoyuki didn’t even have the answers to, or didn’t want to give her because they were personal. He didn’t know why he had such a hard time dealing with people. He didn’t know why he was reaching out to her even as he was trying to keep her away. He didn’t want to talk about what happened to Haruko. He didn’t want to talk about his old school, his old house – those things made him sad, and he was already getting homesick. As for the bruises on his face, the events from the day before, he didn’t want to think about it, much less talk about it – plus, it was none of Taki’s business. But at the same time, he wanted to let it all spill out. He wanted to dump it all, empty his brain of these consuming doubts and worries. He feared telling Taki everything and getting her more deeply involved with him. He almost told her. But he settled for giving her ‘I don’t know’s and other tidbit answers to stop her from prying any further. Oh, and the bruises? He said he got hurt when he was playing a game. No need to get her worked up. No need to mention his father’s angry outburst or the chess game. No need to mention the fact that he’d blacked out in the middle of all that, and didn’t remember it clearly.
Suddenly, images from the car accident come flooding into Naoyuki’s mind. Don’t think about it! He bangs his head against the wall once, twice, pushes the teddy bear away. Taki reminded him of Haruko. Don’t think about it!! He bangs his head against the wall again. That was why he wanted to be with her – to talk to her. Several times more, Naoyuki strikes his head into the wall. It makes his headache worse; probably, there’d be a bruise. That was also why he was afraid to get too close. Slam, against the wall, two more times. Naoyuki’s eyes tear up. It hurt. Throbbed. I can’t think about Haruko. If I do,... I want to go home. I don’t want to be here. But what if I did go back? There’s nothing there either – no Mama; no Haruko; Kotaro’s dad and Haruko’s parents probably hate me; everyone at school hates me; Kazu’s papa can’t stand my guts; he’ll take me away from Shizuyo. I can’t go back. There’s nowhere! It would’ve been better if..if I’d been the one who... One more hard slam to the wall. Naoyuki feels his head spin. If he could knock himself out –
He hears his stepbrother stir across the room. Hears soft voices downstairs. He wonders if his parents could hear him – if they were talking about him. Probably not. His father hated his guts too – he was the spineless, weak, coward of a son who was a disgrace to his family and had no future. He was a failure – not just to his father, but also a failure of a child who made nothing but trouble for Shizuyo and almost got his only friends killed for his selfishness. I don’t want to cause anyone trouble. I don’t deserve Taki’s help. I don’t want her near me.
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“Hey, Hitomi, have you seen Naoyuki today?” Taki asks as she sits down to lunch with her friend.
“No, I haven’t,” Hitomi says. “I don’t think he’s here. Why?”
“I’ve been helping him get caught up on his make-up work, but he wasn’t in study hall,” Taki replies. I hope he’s all right. He was acting kind of strangely yesterday. Even the way he evaded my questions wasn’t his usual fare; and that thing about getting hurt playing a game was such a blatant lie it was ridiculous. Someone hurt him.
“You two seem very close lately,” Hitomi comments.
“Like I told you before,” Taki says, “some days, he opens up to me like crazy; other days, he treats me like a stranger.” She heaves a sigh. “He’s hiding something. Somebody hurt him the other day, and he won’t tell me who. He just gave me this ‘I got hurt playing a game’ crap that was such an obvious lie that I almost laughed at him like he was telling a joke.”
“Maybe you’re pushing too hard,” Hitomi reasons with her. “I understand that you’re worried, but Naoyuki doesn’t know you all that well yet – you still are a bit of a stranger to him. He probably isn’t comfortable with you asking questions like that. You have to keep that in mind, Taki. ”
“Yeah. I guess...” Taki glances around the crowded lunchroom. No sign of Naoyuki here, either. His stepbrother is here, though. Taki gets up from her table, with Hitomi following questioningly behind, and approaches him. “Hey. Kondo.”
Naoyuki’s stepbrother and his friends turn to face her. “Seventh-grader!” cries the red-head to his right. “You’re not gonna cram him in his locker, are you?”
“What do you want?” asks Naoyuki’s stepbrother.
“Where’s your brother?” Taki inquires. “Did he come to school today?”
“Aren’t you his keeper, senpai?”
Taki reels back a little, shocked at his iciness, and blinks down at him. “Hey, I know you leave him alone at the door every morning, but you came to school in the same car! Did he come to school today, or not?”
“Who cares if he did?” chirps the lanky boy at his left. “It’s not like it makes a difference; he keeps to himself, like he’s not even there.”
Taki bristles, her hands curling into fists. She wants to hit him so badly.
“He’s here. Somewhere,” Naoyuki’s stepbrother finally answers. “Probably skipping.”
Did he say “skipping”? Naoyuki skipping? “Naoyuki’s not the kind of kid who skips class. Where is he?” Taki asks again.
“Why are you asking me? I don’t know!”
Taki can’t help it anymore. “Then at least tell me what’s going on with him! Who’s been messing with him?! One of your friends?! Is that why he feels like he can’t tell me who hit him the other day?!”
Naoyuki’s stepbrother’s eyes widen as he blinks up at her in surprise. “That wasn’t...That wasn’t a student,” he mumbles, then looks up at her and clearly says, “Dad hit him. His grades were bad, and Dad got mad. Naoyuki started crying and throwing a fit. So Dad punished him.”
What? “For real?” Taki presses.
“Dead serious.” Naoyuki’s stepbrother averts his eyes. “I got scared. Just watched. Naoyuki..has been acting kinda weird ever since.”
Taki remembers Naoyuki’s weird comment the first time she inquired about what happened. He said, ‘My progress report was bad.’ He underhandedly told her – told her part of the reason why, but not the who. That’s what he meant. Naoyuki’s father did that to him? That was more than just a whack on the hands, a spank, or any punishment. He hit him. Scared him and his stepbrother. Abused him. “Oh my...”
“Taki, the hallway!” Hitomi cries suddenly.
Taki whirls around, hears a ruckus building near the doors that led out from the lunchroom. She hurtles through the crowd and out into the hallway. A teacher brings Naoyuki out of the rest room covered in cuts and bruises, his hands tied, his eyes red and puffy with tears, his dark brown-ish hair messy and mangled. “Naoyuki!” Taki cries. She approaches him and puts her hands on his arms. “Who did this to you?!”
Naoyuki flings her hands away as the teacher leads him down the hall to the office, leaving her and the other students watching on. “That’s what he gets for being such a snob,” Taki hears the girl behind her comment. Taki’s hand clenches into a fist as she whirls around and lets it fly.
