Chapter 26
Detention. Taki had Naoyuki meeting her in detention after school the next day. Naoyuki stares at her long and hard. What kind of idiot would go and get herself a detention for me? I don’t understand. He taps his pencil on the desk, feigning concentration on his homework as he tries to avert his eyes. Whatever. It’s not my problem. I didn’t ask her to do that.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Taki finally asks.
“Why’d you get yourself in trouble for that?” Naoyuki mutters. “Don’t you get it yet? We’re not friends. You don’t have to break your neck over me.”
Taki blinks back at him incredulously, then glowers at him. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk to me, then. You’re cuter when you don’t.”
Naoyuki’s hands retreat inward, away from Taki. “Fine.”
“I wasn’t being serious, you know,” Taki says. But he’s being unusually snappy. It must be because of... “I talked to your stepbrother,” she tells Naoyuki. “He told me about what your dad did to you.”
Naoyuki jams his pencil into his paper and breaks the lead.
“Why wouldn’t you tell me something like that?” Taki presses. “I’m worried about you, you know. You’re not acting like yourself.”
“You’re an idiot,” Naoyuki murmurs.
What?! Taki reels back in disbelief. “W-Well, so are you! Clamming up about something like that won’t help you!”
“It’s – It’s not your problem,” Naoyuki stammers. “So why are you...?”
“Because I want to help you,” Taki says earnestly.
No. Not again. It’s Haruko all over again. “I don’t...I’m not..worth it...”
Taki’s mouth just about drops open. “Naoyuki, don’t say stuff like that!” she cries.
At the sound of footsteps in the hallway, Taki forces herself to look calm and stay glued to her chair, and Naoyuki clumsily gets to his feet to find the pencil sharpener. The teacher comes back into the detention classroom and walks to her desk. “I hope you two are getting your work done,” she says. “It sounds like you were having quite the heated discussion. Was it about school?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Taki says. She forces herself to set her pencil to her biology homework, but furtively looks over at Naoyuki. Does he really feel that way? she wonders, twirling her pencil in her hand. Why would he even think that? Thinking back on it, she realizes something. The look on his face was no act. He was completely frank when he said he didn’t want me doing stuff for him. His contrary behavior – pulling me in, then pushing me away – and the way he won’t stick up for himself… Naoyuki finally finishes sharpening his pencil and returns to his desk. Taki forces herself to take her eyes off of him. His not talking drives a wedge between himself and everybody else. Does he really believe he’s ‘not worth it’? That he doesn’t deserve to have people who like him?
“Which one flips when you divide?” Naoyuki asks hollowly. He notices Taki eying the bruise on his forearm and pulls it back.
“The second one,” Taki replies, equally hollowly.
“Wrap it up, you two,” the teacher announces. “Your hour’s almost up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Taki murmurs as she puts away her pencil and gathers her papers. She looks up at Naoyuki and asks, “Are we meeting in study hall?”
Naoyuki shakes his head ‘no’.
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The nightmares only grew worse as time passed. Haruko was still in a coma, he knew, but Naoyuki still saw her dead in his nightmares; still, there was always the nagging, persistent thought: you should’ve been in her place – you should’ve died. Once in a while, he’d get flash-bolt images of Ushio, dead in the back seat. Once in a while, he dreamt that Kotaro and/or Hana had been killed, as well. Now, his nightmares started to include Taki – Taki, dead; Taki hurt. He’d wake up and momentarily see red on his hands – bang his head a few times to rid himself of the images.
Now it was happening in school. Not realizing he’d fallen asleep (probably due to the fact that he’d barely slept that night), Naoyuki awakens with a jolt, sees the red on his hands, which were propping up his head, and slams his forehead against his desk, once, twice, muting a scream. His classmates turn and stare at him, and so does his teacher.
The teacher puts his glasses back on and puts down his book. “Kondo, are you all right?” There was a twinge of panic in his tone. “Please stop that; you’ll hurt yourself!” He hurriedly strides toward Naoyuki’s desk, sees him quaking. He glances up at the clock “Class is dismissed,” he says suddenly. The students get up and flood out. “Kondo,” the teacher says, gently lifting Naoyuki into a sitting position. Naoyuki screams, shoves his hands away and blocks him off with his arms. The teacher hushes him and coaxes, “All right, I won’t touch you again. Put your arms down. Let’s see your forehead.” Naoyuki slowly obeys. “You’ve bashed it up quite a bit, haven’t you?” the teacher asks. “How long have you been doing that? I want you to stop. It’s not a good habit. Listen: go to the office and get an ice pack on that. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
The bell rings, and Naoyuki shakily stands up from his chair and gathers his things. “Don’t worry about putting up the chair; I’ll get it,” his teacher tells him. Naoyuki slings his backpack over his arms and starts toward the door.
“Kondo,” his teacher calls after him, “how are things at home?” Naoyuki freezes and looks back at him. “I’ve noticed your behavior has been unusual lately. Is something going on at home?” the teacher asks again. Naoyuki opens the door and runs out.
The teacher frowns and gathers up his papers and books and puts them into a black leather book bag. He pulls out his cell phone and hits the speed dial. “Hello? Kazunori, it’s Professor Ikeda. Yes. I want to talk to you about that case you were observing for my class – your cousin’s case. His name is Naoyuki Kondo, correct?” Pulling a file from his book bag, he compares the name with his class roster. “Tell me everything. Start from the top.”
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“I got a call from my professor.” Kazunori stands in the foyer with Shizuyo, kicking off his shoes, as Shizuyo had offered him a drink and a bite to eat. “Naoyuki is in his class.” He follows Shizuyo through the living room and into the kitchen, where she already had two cups of tea and some crackers sitting out.
“Really? That’s good. That means he’ll be understanding about Naoyuki – that is, assuming he still isn’t talking, which I hope isn’t the case.” Shizuyo sits down at the table with Kazu and sips her own cup of tea.
“The professor’s phone call worries me,” Kazunori tells Shizuyo.
“Why is that?” Shizuyo asks, suddenly uneasy.
“He asked me to tell him Naoyuki’s whole case that I had put together,” Kazu replies. “From the top. Everything. Starting with three years ago, when his parents left. He sounded urgent, like something had happened.”
Shizuyo’s eyes widen. “Something? Like what?”
“I don’t know; that’s what scares me,” Kazu murmurs. “We should go check on him.”
Shizuyo frowns. She takes a long sip from her cup. “I was hoping to give Naoyuki some alone time with Aya. Maybe hoping he’d adjust to having another child in the house. I really hope nothing bad has happened. He only just found them again.”
“Admit it, Miss Matsuda,” Kazu says, closing his eyes. “You’re afraid that if you go see him, you’ll want him back with you – you’ll realize how lonely you are without him.”
Spitting out a laugh, Shizuyo says, “I don’t need you to tell me that; I know.” She heaves a sigh. “This house is so empty and lifeless without Naoyuki here. It’s too dull – too quiet.” She takes her beaded necklace in her hands and runs her fingers over the smooth surface of the gemstone in the center. “I wish they’d all come back.”
Kazu frowns. “It’s probably Uncle Hiroto,” he says grimly. “I was afraid from the start that Uncle Hiroto wouldn’t accept Naoyuki. He was too ‘troublesome’ for Uncle Hiroto before, and now – because of Uncle’s own actions – Naoyuki’s got more baggage than Uncle Hiroto wants to handle. It’s a vicious circle.” He finishes off his tea and watches Shizuyo do the same. “I really hope I’m wrong,” he says. “But I want to be sure Naoyuki’s all right.”
“Yes,” Shizuyo says. “I feel the same way. Let’s go, Kazu.”
***************************
Ikuo hurries down the stairs. Something strange was happening. His stepbrother was acting strange. He was just sitting there, up in the bedroom – just sitting there, staring. Just before that, he’d been sleeping, he thought. He’d woken up with a start, banged his head hard against the wall, then nothing. Just sat there, slouched over, staring emptily ahead. It unnerved him. Something was wrong. “Mom!” Ikuo calls. “Mom!” He stops in front of his parents’ bedroom doorway downstairs.
“What is it, Ikuo?” Mrs. Kondo asks worriedly as she steps away from her husband and approaches him. Ikuo grabs her hand and leads her up the stairs. Disturbed by his urgency, she picks up her pace to match his. “Is something wrong?” she asks. She hears her husband’s heavy footsteps following close behind.
Ikuo pulls her over the top step and into the bedroom. He gestures toward Naoyuki and says, “He woke up and banged his head on the wall, and now he isn’t moving. He’s awake, I think, but...”
Mrs. Kondo kneels down and puts her hands on Naoyuki’s arms. “Naoyuki, are you all right? Can’t you hear me?” Naoyuki stares blankly ahead, as if he doesn’t even notice her, or was looking straight through her. “Naoyuki? Naoyuki?!” Naoyuki still doesn’t move or speak, scarcely even blinks. Alarm floods through her. “Naoyuki, snap out of it! You can hear me, can’t you?! You can see me, can’t you?! Answer me!”
Her husband pushes past her and shakes Naoyuki a little. “Wake up,” he commands. When shaking him doesn’t work, he smacks Naoyuki’s face. “Snap out of it!”
Naoyuki suddenly flies off the handle and starts screaming hysterically, kicking and flailing and hitting, pulling away and falling backward. For which he earns another smack from his father. “Stop that!” Mr. Kondo yells. The screaming and kicking and hitting only worsens.
“Stop it, he’ll have a panic attack again!” Mrs. Kondo cries. “Let him calm down!” She reaches out to Naoyuki and pulls him into her arms. “Shhh...Shh... It’s all right.”
“Tch. He doesn’t need to be coddled; he needs to be disciplined!” Mr. Kondo complains. “We can’t allow him to act like a spoiled toddler! We won’t be able to help him if he acts up like this away from home! No one else will tolerate this behavior!”
Despite his protests, Mrs. Kondo holds Naoyuki close, holds him tight and rubs his back. “It’s all right,” she says soothingly. “Nothing to fear.” Naoyuki finally stops fighting her and whining and squirming to get free. Starts breathing slower, easier. His hands unclench and rest against her. “Did you have a nightmare again?” She gently rubs the bruise on Naoyuki’s forehead. He must’ve knocked himself half-senseless, she thinks worriedly. “Naoyuki, you need to be more careful. You hurt yourself...”
Naoyuki clings onto her and starts to fall to sleep when the doorbell rings. He watches his father turn and stalk out of the room. “I’ll get the door,” he hears his father growl.
I made him angry at me again, didn’t I? Naoyuki feels himself slipping into sleep again. I’m not even sure.. what I...I got so scared,..but it felt like I was still dreaming...
Mrs. Kondo hears a pair of familiar voices coming from downstairs. “Shizuyo? And Kazunori?” She sees that Naoyuki has fallen asleep and scoops him up in her arms. “Ikuo,” she says, “let’s go on downstairs.” She waits for Ikuo to precede her, then carefully makes her way down the stairs and to the front door.
“Aya,” Shizuyo greets her. She sees her friend holding Naoyuki and quiets herself. Looks like..we didn’t need to worry so much. “How are you?” she asks Mrs. Kondo. “Is Naoyuki adjusting well?”
“Don’t just invite yourselves over,” Mr. Kondo says tersely. “It’s late, and we’re all tired.” He glowers at Shizuyo before finally allowing her and Kazunori into the front room.
“Hello to you, too, Hiroto,” Shizuyo snaps. “Sorry. We won’t stay long.” She kicks off her shoes and follows Aya to the couches, and Kazu does the same. “So how is everything?” Shizuyo inquires. Jokingly, she adds, “I hope Naoyuki isn’t giving you too much trouble.”
“The boy’s grades are terrible,” Mr. Kondo complains. “He won’t apply himself seriously to anything. Does he think he can rely on others to cover for him forever?”
“Hiroto, please!” Aya cries, curling Naoyuki away from him.
“And Tsutomu was right about the tantrums,” Mr. Kondo rants on. “He’s spoiled! Disgracefully spoiled!”
“Spoiled?” Shizuyo cries. “He’s anything but spoiled! He’s been deprived of the most important people in his life for three years! And you think he’s spoiled?!”
“You’ve made him soft. Reliant. You’ve made him think he should be pitied, instead of teaching him how to behave in the outside world! It’s no wonder he won’t work in school! He thinks there will always be someone to make excuses for him!”
“Excuse me?!” Shizuyo cries. “You have done nothing but run away from Naoyuki, Hiroto! You used the move for the specialist as an excuse to escape and replace him! And now you’re going to lecture me about teaching him how to behave?!”
“Be quiet, please!” Mrs. Kondo pleads. “You’re waking him up!”
Shizuyo falls silent and watches Naoyuki squirm and try to get comfortable. “Is he really doing that badly in school?” she inquires worriedly. “And the tantrums – I thought they would stop now that he finally...He seemed so happy to be back with you. He was starting...to act like his old self again...”
“We’re here because my psychology professor gave me a call earlier today,” Kazu explains. “He’s Naoyuki’s Health teacher.”
Mrs. Kondo frowns. “I’m afraid his progress report wasn’t the best,” she says. “I assumed it was because of his late transfer, so I wasn’t worried about it. If that was the only thing going on, I still wouldn’t fret about it; but Naoyuki has been waking up screaming in the middle of the night on and off for more than a week, now. And when I picked him up from school today, he was in the office with an ice pack on his head – the injury report that the teacher brought down said that he’d dozed off in class, woke up screaming, and purposely banged his head on his desk several times. Then, just before you got here, something similar happened, only when Ikuo came and got us, Naoyuki had knocked himself half-senseless; when we snapped him out of it, he lost it and flew into a frenzy. I just got him back to sleep. Add to that the panic attacks, and I ...I don’t know what to do about him.”
Shizuyo and Kazunori exchange worried glances. “What about these panic attacks?” Kazu inquires.
“It’s strange,” Mrs. Kondo explains. “He got all worked into a frenzy, screamed so much he couldn’t catch his breath, and collapsed. He just had this blank look on his face for a few minutes – It was really scary.”
“What brought it on?” Kazu questions her.
Mrs. Kondo frowns, stays silent. “He was throwing a tantrum, and I disciplined him,” Mr. Kondo says coldly.
“Shizuyo, why is he acting this way? I don’t understand...” Mrs. Kondo readjusts her arms to make Naoyuki comfortable.
“He seems exhausted,” Kazu comments. “How long has he been having trouble sleeping?”
“Like I said, on and off for the past week and a half or so,” Mrs. Kondo replies.
“Not earlier?”
“Well, when he first got here, he was waking up with nightmares, but that stopped after a while – at least, I thought it had.”
“You know about his friend in the hospital, right?”
“Yes, we’ve gone to see her a few times. She’s comatose right now...”
“Naoyuki has seen her since the car accident happened?”
“Yes, we got her a card, and Naoyuki made her a bracelet.”
Kazu falls into a pensive silence. “It shouldn’t be a surprise,” he finally says. “After an accident like that, no one could get off completely scot-free. Has Naoyuki ever talked to you – or at least communicated with you in some way – about the accident?”
“No,” Mrs. Kondo replies. “He’s very tight-lipped about the girl and the accident.”
“That’s probably the trigger,” Kazu tells her. “You’re dealing with Naoyuki’s emotional wreckage from the car accident. He may have PTSD to some extent. You understand that, right? Have you tried to help him deal with it?”
“I...We’ve been so wrapped up with other things, like his school work...”
“No. Aunt Aya, you can’t let him try to juggle all that stress by himself. He’s gonna fall apart if he gets to the point where he can’t deal with it all. You can’t ignore it. If you do, all that stress he’s dealing with – from the accident, and from the move to a new school and dealing with new people – is gonna pile up and bury him alive. Do you understand me, Aunt Aya?”
Mrs. Kondo nods. “I understand.”
Shizuyo stares longingly at Naoyuki. Kazu was right, of course; she felt the overwhelming urge to take Naoyuki and whisk him back home with her. She gets up and leans over to kiss Naoyuki, but settles for sweeping his hair back with her hand and caressing his cheek. “Take good care of him. Please.”
“It’s time for you to be on your way,” Mr. Kondo says curtly. Shizuyo and Kazu excuse themselves, put on their shoes, and take their leave.
