Chapter 36
“So Naoyuki’s all right?” Shizuyo cries with relief.
“Yes,” Kazunori replies. “He’s at his school friend’s house. My professor said he looked healthier. He’s safe there.”
“Thank goodness!” Shizuyo cries. “Thank goodness! I’m so glad...!”
“Ms. Matsuda, I need to ask you a question,” Kazu says, his face suddenly serious. “It’s about the boys’ home that Naoyuki was in after his parents left.”
Shizuyo stares at Kazunori, her smile melting. She looks away toward the door, fiddles with her beaded necklace. “Why do you need to know?” she asks. “A request from your professor, is it? Well, that was a long time ago, and I don’t know a whole lot about it – ”
“I need to know what their logo looked like. Or what the name of the place was,” Kazu continues. “If you can’t answer my questions, Ms. Matsuda, we’ll have to go to Naoyuki for the answers. And that’s something I don’t think he’d be willing to put up with.”
“Why would you want to ask Naoyuki about that awful place – ?”
“Because only he knows what went on there. We need that information to help him.”
Shizuyo heaves a sigh. “Well, the memory’s a little fuzzy,” she says, “so I couldn’t give you details about their logo or their name. All I know is, it was a dirty, rinky-dink place with an orphanage-like set-up and a group of older, kind of uppity women running it. There were lots of kids running around – they didn’t give me the impression that they were either happy or healthy. And Naoyuki...When I came, one of the women went and retrieved him from a room off in the back of the building.”
“So Naoyuki was alone,” Kazu surmises. “Separated from the other boys.”
“Like I told you before,” Shizuyo says, uneasily tugging at her necklace and glancing around, “Naoyuki was an empty shell when I got him out of there. He wouldn’t talk or look at me; he didn’t respond well to touch; he’d barely move unless you pulled at him. That probably isolated him from the others.”
“So that’s all you know?” Kazu inquires.
Shizuyo frowns. “Actually, now that I think of it, what really made me angry was that not only was Naoyuki sickly, but he also came out of there with his head all knocked-up. I’m not sure if that was his aunt and uncle’s doing, or if it was one of the boys at the home, or what...”
The first thing to come to Kazu’s mind is his conversation with his professor about Naoyuki’s shut-down state – the defense mechanism he may have been using as early as the boys’ home or his aunt and uncle’s house. “It was only his head?” Kazu inquires. “Not his face or anything else was bruised?”
“Not that I can remember off the bat,” Shizuyo answers. “Why? Is that relevant?”
“You were there when I went to talk to my aunt and uncle,” Kazu says. “Aunt Aya talked about how Naoyuki was purposely banging his head on things and coming home with head injuries. And at the time you got Naoyuki out of the boys’ home, his head was injured?”
Shizuyo realizes what he was getting at. “You think Naoyuki did that to himself?” she asks, a twinge of disbelief on her face.
“My professor thinks that Naoyuki’s been knocking himself out intentionally when he can’t deal with stress,” Kazu explains. “It’s a self-defense tactic that my professor calls ‘shutdown’. It keeps Naoyuki from going into emotional overload. We think he’s been using it for a long time now – possibly since his parents left him. Finding out what happened in the boys’ home might help us to identify more stressors, so we can help Naoyuki to deal with them.”
Shizuyo stares at him in shock. “I–I see...” she stutters.
“The same actually goes for the car accident,” Kazunori adds. “Ever since the accident, Naoyuki’s been inducing shutdown more often, perhaps in response to PTSD flashbacks. Unfortunately, there’s no one – not even you – who can help us piece together what went down in that accident.”
“There’s that boy,” Shizuyo says. “Kotaro. He could tell us. He’s the only one besides Naoyuki and that girl, Hana, whom we could go to for answers.”
Kazu blinks at her in surprise. “Yes,” he says. “You’re right.”
***************************
Naoyuki follows Taki down the hallway toward the gym. “Since you might not be able to see my game next week,” she’d said, “why don’t you come to practice with me?” At the time, it seemed like a good opportunity; but as they approach the gym doors, the first person to meet them is the basketball captain – Ogata. And of course, the first one she spots is him. He squirms under her hateful glare.
“So now Mute/Retard-Kondo is butting in on practice?” Ogata spits.
“Lay off, Ogata,” Taki growls threateningly.
“Tch. Hurry up and hit the showers, Soejima,” Ogata snaps before finally turning away and disappearing into the girls’ locker room.
Taki nudges Naoyuki forward and herds him in through the gym door. “You’ll have to sit tight in the bleachers, Naoyuki,” she says. “If you need anything, the coach is in her office over there.” She gestures toward a corridor off near the bleachers on the left. “I’ll be out of the locker room in a few.” Taki pats him on the shoulder and jogs off toward the locker room door.
Naoyuki glances around the huge gym. The basketball nets and balls were already set up for the girls to play. The bleachers on the left were pulled out, but the ones way off on the right were still folded back. Naoyuki reaches out and touches one of the basketballs on the rack, but quickly withdraws his hand. Footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor make him jump and look toward the sound. A tall woman with curly brown hair and a whistle around her neck walks into the gym from the corridor near the bleachers. “Who are you?” she calls out in a loud, rough voice. “What are you doing in here? Practice is about to start.”
Naoyuki flinches and starts to approach the woman – the coach, he presumes. “Um, I-I wanted..to watch T-Taki play...” he stammers nervously in reply.
The woman blinks down at him for a moment, then, without further question, herds him over to the orange bleachers. “I’d advise against sitting in the first row,” she says. “The basketballs sometimes wind up flying into the front bleachers.”
Accordingly, Naoyuki climbs up to the second row of bleachers and takes a seat. The girls start to come out of the locker room, chatting jovially. Naoyuki scans the growing crowd for Taki, who is just coming out behind the first three or four girls. Ogata follows just after her. Taki spots Naoyuki in the bleachers and waves; Naoyuki waves gingerly back.
“All right, girls,” calls the coach with a loud clap, “let’s get started! Warm up!”
The girls spread out and stretch for about ten minutes, then start jogging along the gym walls. The girls’ jog quickly switches to a full-on run, then tapers off after four laps. “Cool-down!” calls the coach. “Take one more lap! Jogging!” Taki finishes first.
Now that warm-ups were over, Naoyuki excitedly leans forward to watch, his rapt attention captured by the dribble of basketballs. “Practice shots!” the coach calls. “Let’s see some layups!” The girls split up, half at one net, and half at the opposite. One by one, they dribble the ball up to the one side of the net and sling it up with a single hand. A few miss, most sink – Taki’s was one that sank.
The coach blows her whistle. “Good!” she calls. “Let’s go free-throw!” Practice goes on with different shots in a like manner. Taki hadn’t missed a single shot. It was no wonder she was the team’s star player: she was quick, great at jumping, and had flawless aim. Above all, she was enjoying every second, even of this basic practice.
The coach blows her whistle again. “All right, the groups you’re now in are your teams!” she calls. “Let’s play a practice match, fifteen minutes on the clock!” Captain Ogata tosses the coach one basketball, and another girl quickly runs over and racks the extra, then returns to her group. “Ready?” calls the coach. She brings the whistle to her lips, tosses the ball, and blows. Immediately, Ogata catches it, centers it, passes to one of her teammates, who dribbles clear to the net. Taki blocks the shot and takes it back in. Back and forth the girls run up and down the court, with the basketball flying to and fro. Finally, a sunk shot – Taki’s. She’s great, Naoyuki thinks, a smile slinking across his face. By the end, he finds himself full-on cheering for Taki and her team. The final whistle blows; the practice game ends. “Good job, girls!” the coach calls. “Go hit the showers!”
The girls file into the locker room, and the gym is suddenly quiet enough to hear a pin drop and echo. The coach looks up as Naoyuki stands up and carefully climbs back down from the bleachers. “Enjoy the session?” she inquires, to which she receives a heartfelt nod. “I’m glad,” she says. “You can wait in my office for Soejima. Come with me.” The coach leads Naoyuki down the corridor and into her office. “What’s your name?” she asks him.
“N-Naoyuki Kondo,” he answers.
“Kondo. So you’re the one whose name has been going around amongst my girls. You cause quite the stir, though I don’t know why. Are my girls nice to you?” Naoyuki nods slightly. “That’s good.”
Naoyuki perks up when he hears Taki calling his name from outside. The coach steps out and calls, “In here, Soejima!”
Taki’s running footsteps echo down the corridor. She pokes her head inside the office and cries, “There you are!” She smiles. “Naoyuki, my mom’s already waiting outside. Come on, let’s go!” She reaches out and takes his hand, leading him out.
“You played good,” Naoyuki complements her with a bright smile. “Really good!”
Taki grins brightly back and puts her arm around his shoulder as the two of them walk out side by side.
***************************
Kazunori waits patiently by the elementary school’s low wall. Finally, the bell rings, and the students come flooding out. Kazu scans the crowd for Naoyuki’s other friend, the boy – Kotaro. He was the only one besides Naoyuki and the little girl he’d saved that walked away from the car accident two months ago. He was the only other person who could give him answers. Kotaro Nomura, Kazu thinks. Fifth grader, brown hair and hazel eyes... I don’t see him yet. Little kids brush past him down the sidewalk. Quickly, he scans these, too. He’s seen me as many times as I’ve seen him, Kazu thinks. He’d probably recognize me. Finally, he spots Kotaro and calls out to him. He had Kotaro’s attention. Kotaro turns toward him. Kazunori quickly approaches him. “Hey, Kotaro, I need to talk to you – !”
Heavy steps approach. Kazunori looks up as a tall man with scraggly brown hair roughly claps his hand around his arm. It was Kotaro’s father – Kazu recognizes him from the hospital. “Stay away from my son!” the man yells.
“I’m sorry,” Kazu apologizes. “I just need to talk to him for a minute. It’s important.”
“What’s so important you can’t talk about it in front of me?” Kotaro’s father asks pointedly. “Sorry, I’m not buying it.” He shoves Kazu back and takes hold of his son.
“It’s about the accident!” Kazu speaks up. “I need to know! Naoyuki needs help!”
“Naoyuki – ?”
“Dad, wait!” Kotaro speaks up. “I want to talk to him. Please.”
Kotaro and his father turn back toward Kazu. “Are you sure?” Kotaro’s father asks.
“Yeah,” Kotaro replies.
Kotaro’s father gestures toward a small lunch bench just outside the school wall. “You’ll talk there, where I can see you,” he tells Kazu. He releases Kotaro to him. “Make it quick; I have to get back to work.”
Kazunori nods and takes Kotaro aside to the bench. The two boys sit down across from each other. “How are you?” Kazu asks Kotaro. “Is your arm better?”
“Yeah,” Kotaro replies. “It’s pretty much healed.” Silence for a moment. “So what’s the emergency?” Kotaro asks. “Did something happen to Naoyuki?”
Kazu sighs. “This might be hard for you to understand. Do you know what PTSD is?” Kotaro shakes his head. “It stands for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s caused by a very disturbing or life-threatening event. Naoyuki has PTSD because of the car accident. He can’t talk about it, but it’s too much for him to keep in,” Kazu explains. “I need to know what happened then – anything you can tell me. It might help me to help my cousin.”
Kotaro stares silently at him for a moment, still registering the information. “What can I say? It was an accident – a bad one,” he finally speaks up. “It was hard to see, and the roads were icy. Mr. Fubuki lost control of the car. Two people in that car were badly hurt, and one died.” Kotaro realizes that he was shaking. He was having a hard time talking about it – it was bringing the memories of what he saw back to mind.
“Who were the Fubukis?” Kazu asks. “How did you all end up together?”
“Haruko and Naoyuki just came to my doorstep,” Kotaro explains. “They’d walked all the way to my house. They needed someone to help them get to Naoyuki’s parents’ house, but my dad wouldn’t take them because he knew..that Naoyuki’s parents had since settled in and adopted a kid – he does finance, and they were his customers. Anyway,...I didn’t want to let Haruko and Naoyuki go it alone, so I tagged along. It got so cold and ugly out there that we hitched a ride with Mr. Fubuki and stayed at his house until the weather eased up...”
“...and after you finally headed out,” Kazunori finishes, “the storm hit, and that’s when the accident happened.”
Kotaro nods. “I don’t remember real clearly except that somebody hit us, and the car flipped over. After that, we got knocked around like crazy, and I blacked out for a bit. When the sirens woke me up, I was hanging from my seatbelt, and I couldn’t move my arm. Naoyuki had fallen onto the ceiling of the car, and he was shaking like crazy and starting to cry...”
Kazu watches Kotaro’s fingers work wildly on the table. He’s got it bad, too, he thinks.
“...and Haruko and the others...” Kotaro gulps. “...they were all dead-quiet...hanging from their seatbelts...”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Kazu says gently. “You can stop if you want to.”
Kotaro blinks back the tears, still trembling. “I knew then..that if something happened to Haruko, Naoyuki would snap.” He shivers. Struggles to get himself under control. “Haruko was like his sister. He trusted her. He finally let her in..to have her snatched away like that.” He gulps again, struggling to fight back the tears. “So...how’s he doing now...?”
Kazu hesitantly repeats, “Like I said, Naoyuki has PTSD. He’s not dealing well with the accident or what happened to Haruko.” He pauses and adds, “But he’s made a new friend at his school who’s helping him out. And he and his stepbrother are starting to get along. So he’s doing a little better now.”
Kotaro nods. “Does Naoyuki like his new house?” The trembling was finally starting to die down.
A pause. “Yeah,” Kazu replies. “Mostly. He’s glad to have his mom back.”
Kotaro’s lips turn up into a hint of a smile. “Good,” he says. He pushes himself up from the bench with his good arm. “I’ve gotta go now,” he says. “Dad’s waiting.” He turns and starts away toward the sidewalk.
“Kotaro,” Kazunori calls after him, “thank you.” He watches Kotaro nod and continue on, head held high, without looking back.
***************************
Awaiting Taki and Naoyuki upon their return to Taki’s house are none other than Mrs. Kondo and Ikuo. Mrs. Kondo was pleasantly chatting with Mrs. Soejima when the two of them walk in. Naoyuki stops in his tracks, his eyes glued on his mother and stepbrother. What were they doing here? And, more importantly, did his father know where they were? Naoyuki shivers at the thought.
His mother turns to face him, silent for the moment. She takes a step toward him. She smiles, but her eyes water over. “Thank goodness,” she cries. She hurries to Naoyuki and catches him in an embrace. “Thank goodness! I was afraid I’d never see you again! Don’t you ever just disappear like that again!” she cries, rocking him to and fro. “Oh, Naoyuki!”
Hesitantly, Naoyuki hugs his mother back. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs.
Ikuo catches Taki’s sight. He looks happy to see his stepbrother, but at the same time, miserable. At the show of affection, he backs up, looking uncomfortably in the other direction. Taki frowns at the sight. “Ikuo,” Taki calls out to him, “it’s good to see you. You hungry or anything? I could get you something.”
“Uh – No, that’s… That’s okay,” Ikuo replies uneasily.
“We weren’t planning to stay, anyway,” Mrs. Kondo adds, “but thank you for the offer.” She gets to her feet and takes Naoyuki’s little hand in hers. “Ikuo, Naoyuki, let’s go home.” She starts toward the door, but Naoyuki pulls his hand away. “Naoyuki, what’s wrong?”
Naoyuki shakes his head. “I don’t wanna,” he mumbles, his eyes down.
“What do you – ?”
“I don’t wanna go,” Naoyuki repeats, now in earnest. “Papa will hit me again. So I don’t wanna go.”
“Naoyuki, don’t worry about your father; I’ll take care of it,” his mother promises.
Naoyuki shakes his head again. “No. He’ll hit you, too,” he says. “I don’t wanna go back there. I want you and Ikuo to come home with me!”
“This is our home now,” his mother tells him.
“No,” Naoyuki argues tearfully, “I wanna go home! I miss Shizuyo, and my house...I want to go home, Mama...!”
Mrs. Kondo frowns. “I’m sorry,” she says, “but this is our home.”
Grimacing, Naoyuki turns and runs to Taki. “I’m not going!” he cries as he clutches onto Taki and buries his face in her clothes.
Taki reluctantly puts her arm around him and glances questioningly at her mother. Her father had already warned her that they would have to let Naoyuki go; she knew the time would come eventually when his parents would take him back. But she doesn’t want to let him go – especially not to be returned to his father’s battering hands. “Just a little longer,” Taki pleads. “Just let Naoyuki stay here a little longer.”
“I miss my son!” Mrs. Kondo cries.
Taki’s eyes flicker toward Ikuo, who had flinched away. She doesn’t care if it puts Mrs. Kondo in a spot; she has to let this out: “What about your other son? You have Ikuo, too!”
“Taki!” her mother chides her.
The damage was done – hopefully with the desired effect. Mrs. Kondo retreats, stands erect, and looks back at Ikuo. “I know that,” she says.
Despite her acknowledgment, Ikuo’s face still twists in hurt. She had to tell you, he wants to say; but he bites his tongue and stands silent. I’m really not...part of this family.
“Ikuo, let’s go.” Mrs. Kondo turns and walks out the door. Ikuo trudges after her when he realizes that his stepbrother and Taki are following. Ikuo stops just off of the porch steps, and Taki’s clopping footsteps stop shortly behind him.
Taki puts her hand on Ikuo’s shoulder. “Ikuo, I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I thought it would help. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Ikuo slowly turns around to face her. For a moment, his eyes lock with his concerned stepbrother’s. He forces himself to look up at Taki’s face. “Hey,” he says. His mouth turns up in a sad half-smile. “Do you think someday my mom will come looking for me and open her arms to me like that?”
Taken aback, Taki just stares at him for a second, then replies, “Yeah. Someday.”
Ikuo gives her a quick hug, then turns and hurries to his stepmother’s car. He gets inside and closes the door. The engine starts. The car backs up, pulls into the street, and disappears. Taki and Naoyuki had earned a pyrrhic victory.
***************************
Shizuyo rings the Kondos’ doorbell and waits. A moment later, Mrs. Kondo opens the door, looking sullen. “Oh, Shizuyo? What brings you here?” She waves Shizuyo in and closes the door gently behind her.
“Aya, I need to talk to Hiroto,” Shizuyo says.
“About Naoyuki?” Mrs. Kondo inquires.
Shizuyo’s face darkens. She kicks off her shoes at the door and follows Mrs. Kondo to the couch. Plopping down to face her friend, she finally answers, “Yes, about Naoyuki. It’s not acceptable, what Hiroto’s doing to him. I won’t stand for it.” Her gaze hardens on Mrs. Kondo. “And you shouldn’t, either.”
Mrs. Kondo sighs. “Hiroto isn’t in right now,” she tells Shizuyo. “In fact, Ikuo and I just got back from the Soejimas’.”
Shizuyo’s expression softens. “Was Naoyuki well?” she asks.
Mrs. Kondo nods. “But he wouldn’t come back with me,” she murmurs.
“That’s no surprise,” Shizuyo mutters, “considering what Kazunori was telling me about what goes on in this house.”
“He just kept saying how he wanted to go back to the old house and he wouldn’t come back here,” Aya rattles on. “But surely he doesn’t expect us to leave without his father? Surely he doesn’t think just the three of us can go back?” She works her hands in her lap, looking troubled. “And the way he clung onto Soejima...”
“Aya, you know that Naoyuki loves you,” Shizuyo assures her. “But if you continue to allow Hiroto to abuse Naoyuki – ”
“I’m not allowing anything of the sort!” Mrs. Kondo cries. “But I love Naoyuki, and I love Hiroto! There’s nothing I can do, trying to get between them. They’re both right.”
Shizuyo stares her friend in the eyes and asks, “Aya, is Hiroto hitting you too?”
“No. No!” Aya insists. “Shizuyo, nothing’s going on! I don’t even know where Kazunori got the notion – !”
“It’s because you won’t talk, Aya!” Shizuyo says pointedly. “You’ve trapped yourself and Naoyuki in this state of affairs! And you know Naoyuki won’t talk to anyone about what’s going on! The only way anyone knows is if they dig! Aya, if Hiroto is hitting you – !”
“Don’t get involved!” Mrs. Kondo yells.
The women’s yelling summons Ikuo into the living room. “You’re right,” he speaks up.
Shizuyo pushes herself up from the couch. “Yet you tell me not to get involved?!” she cries. “Don’t you let Hiroto walk all over you and your sons!”
“This isn’t your fight!” Aya insists. “I’ll handle it!”
The door opens, and Mr. Kondo steps in. He closes the door, then stops short when he sees Shizuyo in his living room. “Well, well,” he says, “to what do I owe the honor?”
Despite Mrs. Kondo’s pleas, Shizuyo storms toward him and slaps him in the face. “Keep your grimy hands off of Aya and the boys, Hiroto,” she yells, “or, so help me, I’ll call the cops on you and put you where you can’t hurt them anymore!” She glares up at him and growls, “And by the way, I taught Naoyuki some self-defense tactics way back when; so, no, you don’t intimidate me!”
“Are you picking a fight with me, Matsuda?” Mr. Kondo retorts.
“You decide that,” Shizuyo growls back. “Shape up, or you will be in for quite the fight.” With that, she gives Mrs. Kondo a curt nod goodbye and barges out the door.
