Smiling at the Moon: Volume 1 - Chapter 1 - part 4

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Ever since mid-June, when the rains started, Yamada hasn't been hanging out with me as much. It all began about two weeks ago after the news reported that a gang leader had been shot. Events from another world, ones I used to dismiss with "Oh, it's the yakuza again, scary," have started to catch my attention.

Yamada, who casually calls or emails me, gets irritated when I try to contact him when he's busy. As a result, we haven't been able to communicate much.

That day, after school, I went to the library and studied until 8 in the evening. On days when I don't hang out with Yamada, I go to the library. The contrast between playing with yakuza and studying at the library amuses me. I can't imagine anyone else living such a dual life, which makes it even more interesting. But continuous studying can get a bit boring.

After 8 PM, I left the library. Walking through the dark woods where raindrops pattered on the leaves, I emerged onto the sidewalk of a main street. Every time a car passed, the wet black pavement glistened.

"Hey, you there."

A voice called out, and I stopped. It was a middle-aged man in a worn-out suit, holding a vinyl umbrella. He was in his mid-forties, with a receding hairline and a shiny nose.

"I hate to bother you, but can I ask you a few questions?

From under his suit, I glimpsed a police badge, just like in the dramas. My heart skipped a beat.

"I won't take up much of your time. It'll be quick."

I nodded, looking down. Though I hadn't done anything wrong, my hand holding the umbrella trembled a bit.

"You know Yamada Shinji, right? That thug from the Shima group you're often seen with. Have you been in touch with him recently?"

"No."

Not only my hand but my voice also trembled. The detective seemed to notice my nervousness and shrugged lightly.

"No need to be so stiff. How about Minobe, Yamada's senior? Do you know him?"

"I've seen him once. Just once... briefly."

The detective responded with a nonchalant "Hmm."

"Then you know Saito Hitomi, right?"

I nodded slightly. Yamada, Minobe, Saito Hitomi... these names spun in my head.

"Right, she was in your class last year. Do you know what her relationship with Minobe was?"

"No," I replied. The detective scratched his nose with his right thumb.

"Has Yamada ever mentioned anything about Minobe and Saito Hitomi?"

Yamada couldn't tell me when I asked. But I didn't mention it and just replied, "I don't know."

"You and Hitomi Saito were classmates, and even though you both knew Minobe Minoru, there didn't seem to be a direct connection between you. Well, we have some leads here, but I'm still investigating."

I felt like I was being played, even though the detective spoke slowly. He was sharp.

"I don't mean to be harsh, but you seem like a diligent student. It'd be better if you didn't associate with someone like Yamada, who has bad habits. Their way is to tarnish what's pure and turn it dark."

The detective rubbed his unshaven chin.

"One last thing. Did Saito have a particular fondness for sweets?"

"Sweets?"

"Like doughnuts or sugary treats."

"I don't know."

The detective gave a wry smile. "Yeah, I thought so."

"Why..." I began, and the detective tilted his head.

"Why are you asking me if Saito liked sweets?"

The detective sneezed slightly. "Sorry about that," he sniffed.

"I'm not asking you specifically. We've been asking other girls who were in the same class as Saito last year. They gave the same answer. We found sugar under Saito's nails after she died. We thought she might have eaten sweets, but the amount was unusual. It got me curious."

The detective sniffed again, said, "Good luck with your studies," and left.

On my way home, I couldn't stop trembling. I didn't understand why the detective approached me, but I felt something was wrong with Yamada.

I thought about the keywords: Minobe, Saito, and the sugar under Saito's nails that the detective was so fixated on. Then I remembered. That day, we made cupcakes in home economics class. Could the sugar under Saito's nails have come from the ingredients? But then, I recalled a classmate's words:

"No one wants to eat anything touched by Hanawa."

Saito, who was bullied and nicknamed Hanawa, wasn't allowed to touch the cupcake ingredients. She was only allowed to clean up. Could there still be sugar under her nails after that? And she would have washed her hands before and after the class.

Even at home, during dinner, I kept thinking about it.

"Ah," I remembered. Before she died, before jumping out the window, Saito tore open a small packet and scattered some powder outside. If that powder was sugar...

Why would Saito scatter sugar out the window? Why did Minobe frantically try to retrieve it? It's strange. Sugar is cheap and available everywhere.

When I realized, I started trembling. What if it wasn't sugar? If it looked like sugar but wasn't... something straight out of a drama. The detective's cliché line after tasting white powder...

"...It's drugs..."

I stood up from my chair. My mother asked, "You haven't eaten much. Are you feeling unwell?" I replied, "I just don't have an appetite," and shut myself in my room.

I sent an email to Yamada: "I need to see you right away." Within three minutes, he called.

"Yo, Chinchin-hiko."

It was Yamada's usual cheerful voice. "I got a new game, 'Ghoul Castle.' You don't have it, right? Come over and let's play."

I had a lot to ask, but I didn't know where to start, feeling confused.

"Uh..."

"Can you sneak out of your house? I haven't seen you lately and wondered what you were up to."

I wanted to see Yamada. I needed to talk to him. If he was doing something wrong, I wanted him to turn himself in.

In the end, I said I'd come over, and around midnight, I quietly left home and went to the convenience store where we agreed to meet.

Yamada, as usual, called me "Chinchin-hiko," a nickname I hated. Normally, I'd protest, but tonight it didn't matter. Sensing something different, Yamada soon stopped teasing me. The rain, which had been falling since the evening, added to my gloomy mood.

"You wanted to see me, but you seem grumpy," he said.

Mood swings were Yamada's specialty. He seemed unsure how to deal with my silence.

We arrived at Yamada's apartment, walking through the usual dirty hallway. From a room at the end, I heard moans.

"Hey, what's that..."

I tugged at Yamada's T-shirt, and he shrugged.

"My big brother's with a girl. You might be curious, but don't watch. He'll beat you half to death if he finds out."

The moans, like a cat's cry, echoed in my ears. After we entered Yamada's room, I closed the door tightly.

Yamada immediately sat in front of the TV and set up the game console.

"You know..."

"Come sit here," he said.

I didn't know how to bring it up. But I had to tell him and ask.

"Have you ever done anything bad?"

Yamada tilted his head.

"What are you talking about?"

"Have you ever done anything that would get you arrested?"

Yamada's brow furrowed, and he quickly became annoyed.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I just need to."

A game case flew at my face, hitting my cheek.

"Shut up. Of course, I have. I've been in juvie. What do you expect?"

"The past doesn't matter. If you're doing something bad now, turn yourself in."

Yamada half-opened his mouth and sneered, "What are you talking about?"

"A detective came to see me."

Yamada's expression changed at the mention of "detective." He lunged at me, grabbing my shirt and choking me.

"What did you tell the cops?"

I couldn't speak with his grip on my throat.

"Did they tell you to spy on me?"

Yamada's wild accusation made me furious, and I kneed him in the groin. He groaned and doubled over, clutching himself. I hit his back with a pillow.

"You idiot! Idiot! You don't understand anything!"

"Hey... stop it..."

Yamada backed away, still holding his groin.

"Do not hit me anymore, okay? I understand. I understand."

"Shinji, you don't understand. You really don't understand. If you get caught by the police, you have to go to jail, right? I don't want that, that's why I'm telling you."

He hit him so hard with the pillow that his hands went numb. When Michihiko's attacking stopped, Yamada, who had been on the defensive, slowly approached.

"Why are you crying?"

I didn't know why, but tears were streaming down from both of my eyes. They kept overflowing.

"Don't do bad things anymore…"

Michihiko gripped the hem of the blond yakuza's T-shirt. Yamada's gaze wandered around, looking troubled.

"Bad things...?"

"Quit being a yakuza. So, so... "

I wished Yamada was still in junior high school. If we were in the same junior high school, we could have gone to school together every day, and boring classes and break times would have been more enjoyable.

"You tell me to quit being a yakuza, but it's not that easy. I entered this world with my own resolve. ...You may not understand yet, though."

He patted me on the head.

"I don't know what the detective said to you, but I'm fine. I haven't made any mistakes that would get me arrested."

I was told not to cry anymore and was offered a candy. Since the wrapper was already opened and handed to me, I had no choice but to eat it. Trying to please with food again. It's so predictable. Yamada peered into my face as if trying to gauge my mood and asked me.

"What did the detective say to you?"

"Nothing much."

"Nothing much? That can't be it."

"He asked if I knew you or Minobe, that's about it. I said I don't know anything."

"That's it?," Yamada scratched the back of his head. I didn't mention being told to stay away from yakuza, and I didn't want to bring it up.

"If the detective comes again, just ignore him. Don't worry about what they say."

I nodded, but I felt like I couldn't ignore the detective. After that, Yamada suggested playing a game with me, but I couldn't bring myself to feel like playing, so I declined.

"Then let's watch some adult videos. They're old videos, but they're good."

Even though I said I didn't want to watch, Yamada insisted, "Come on, just watch it," and inserted the video into the player.

A beautiful woman appeared on the TV screen. But she was soon surrounded by several men, who stripped her naked. The sight of her exposed large breasts, the indecent movements of her hips, did not excite me at all. My mind remained heavy, and as the video escalated, my heart only grew colder.

Yamada quickly pulled down his jeans to his knees and started masturbating. The video was less than thirty minutes long, but for me, whose head was clear, it felt like a long time.

"You didn't come."

I muttered softly, "I don't like that."

"Rape scenes are not your thing, huh? I prefer that over consensual scenes."

While grumbling, Yamada pulled up his jeans.

"The other day, my big brother took me to a soapland¹. The girl at the shop gave me a massage, and it was amazing."

I could tell that a soapland was a lewd place, but I didn't know the specifics. Besides, it was a massage. Did it involve something like chiropractic treatment?

"Hey, should I do it for you too?"

I said it was fine, but Yamada kept insisting, "I'll do it for you, it'll definitely feel good," repeatedly. I felt bad for stubbornly refusing, so in the end, I reluctantly nodded.

"Then take off your pants."

"Take them off?"

"Of course."

I was told as if it were obvious, and I hesitated on what to do. It was embarrassing to be naked, but since Yamada was so enthusiastic, it was hard to refuse, so I reluctantly pulled down my cotton briefs to my knees.

"Lie face down and bend your knees. I need to get ready."

As instructed, I lay face down and bent my knees. It was embarrassing to be in such a foolish position since I wasn't wearing anything underneath. I heard a noise behind me, and when I turned around, Yamada was opening a small plastic package.

"What's that?"

"It's a condom. You've never seen one before, have you?"

The thin item stretched out long. I had learned about it in health class, but it was my first time seeing the actual thing.

"Do you use that?"

"Well, yeah."

I knew it was used during sex, but I tilted my head, wondering how it was used for a massage. As I was thinking, Yamada's hand was placed on my back.

While my waist was being massaged, I felt something unpleasant when something cold touched my anus. My back shuddered.

"It's cold."

"Hold on a bit. If I don't do this, it'll be painful."

He rubs something cold into my ass. Why my ass? While I was thinking that something was strange, he said, "Relax your body."

I did as I was told. I relaxed my body. At the same time, something slid into my ass.

"No, no, I don't like this."

I wriggled as if jumping, but I was pressed down from above and my movements were restrained.

"Idiot, don't yell. We'll get scolded by my big brother."

"Don't touch me there."

"It's okay. As long as you stay still, it won't hurt much."

"No, I don't want this."

Even if I struggled, he held me down from behind and I couldn't resist.

"It might be a little weird at first, but you'll get used to it soon."

His finger moved smoothly inside my asshole. I understood. Doing such a thing made me feel somehow worthless as a human being, and I covered my face with both hands and began to cry softly.

"If you find a spot that feels good, let me know. I'll rub it for you."

"I don't want your finger. Take it out... I don't want it..."

Even though I said I didn't want it, the finger kept moving. Before long, Michihiko's back jolted with a jerk.

"Oh, is it here?"

The tip of his finger presses there. Michihiko's back shivers involuntarily, and heat accumulates in his lower body. His groin feels tense, and he begins to get an erection.

"No, no..."

"You don't hate it, it feels good, right? You're getting rock hard."

His penis shakes involuntarily as he presses on the quivering spot. For Michihiko, who has never even masturbated properly, this was an unknown territory he had never experienced before.

"It's feeling good now. Come on, jerk yourself off."

"No, I don't want to."

Even though it's his own, he's scared to touch it. Yamada mutters, "You're a handful," then puts his hand on Michihiko's penis. Just a tight grip makes everything go white before his eyes. In the moment of incredible pleasure and agony, he ejaculates.

Even after he ejaculated, his knees and hips were shaking. It feels good, but it's scary. It's so pleasurable that it's somehow frightening. He was scared... the tears just poured out.

"You're quick to cum. Hold back a bit. It'll feel even better if you do."

Again, a finger moves inside his ass. Pressing on the sensitive spot, his penis, which had just ejaculated, becomes hard again. Satisfied with Michihiko's reaction, Yamada proudly speaks.

"Hey, doesn't this massage feel good? I've cum three or four times just from this."

Breathing heavily, his heart pounding, his whole body becoming sensitive.

"Penis..."

In a small voice, Michihiko pleads.

"What?"

"Touch my penis."

Yamada doesn't say, "You're a handful," this time. He silently grips Michihiko's penis.

"Y-yes... ah..."

The urge to ejaculate was growing, but he wouldn't come. He couldn't let it out because Yamada was holding it. Frustrated, Michihiko trembles slightly.

"Move your hand."

"Endure a little longer."

Yamada's suppressed voice directly echoes in his ears, sending shivers down his spine. The fingers gripping his penis alternate between tightening and loosening. With each movement, Michihiko gasps.

"Mm, fu... Ah, ah..."

There's a wet sensation in his ear. He let out a moan as he was licked. The tongue follows the shape of his ear canal.

"Ah, oh..."

A breathless voice escapes, and the pleasure made him numb all the way to his fingertips. His ears, penis, and inside his ass are teased and played with, becoming so pleasurable that he loses himself in it. Finally, when the hand that had been holding back starts moving, the tip is pressed firmly, causing him to cum in response. Feeling too good, he makes strange sounds of "hafu... hafu..." Shaking his hips in the aftermath of pleasure, he unconsciously rubs his itchy inner thighs together.

"Don't make sexy sounds like that, you brat."

Yamada's voice, low and unfamiliar, whispers directly into his eardrums.

"Just hearing your voice makes me like this."

A zipper sound is heard, and Yamada's hot, hard member emerges and presses firmly between his closed thighs.

"I don't care if it's your asshole, I just want to stick it in."

The thigh he thrusted left a sticky trail like a snail's trail.

"Hey, Michihiko. Just a little... can I put mine in yours?"

Michihiko's voice rejecting it was small.

"Just the tip is fine. Just a little rubbing..."

His head feels fuzzy, various sensations numbing him. If his fingers feel this good, maybe something bigger would feel even better. So, when his fingers are removed and Yamada's penis presses against his anus, he doesn't resist.

But before that tip could enter, Michihiko struggles. It was more painful than he had imagined. It was unbearable. At first, Yamada tried to comfort him by saying, "Be a good boy and bear with it," but seeing how extraordinarily distressed Michihiko was, he couldn't force him any further.

"I got carried away. Sorry, my bad."

Kneeling on the tatami mat, Yamada forcefully pulls Michihiko, who is crying in pain, into the futon without a word. Embracing him tightly from behind, he whispers near his ear as if coaxing, "I'm sorry, I'm apologizing, ok?" As he is held in the embrace, his head and arms are stroked, and gradually, the anger and pain fade away.

"You smell nice."

Yamada, burying his face in Michihiko's neck, murmurs softly. When Michihiko thinks he's rubbing his nose like a dog, he suddenly feels a bite on his neck. Just as he thought it was painful, the pain quickly subsides. Yamada repeats this action endlessly.

"You know, you're lucky to be a guy."

Yamada murmurs deeply.

"If you were a girl, I'd have had my way with you already."

Michihiko gently places his hand on Yamada's arm wrapped around his chest.

"If I were a girl, would you violate me, impregnate me, and have a child with me, Shinji?"

Yamada flips Michihiko onto his back and embraces him tightly from the front.

"You're saying such ridiculously cute things."

His hair is tousled until it's a mess, and he's embraced so tightly that he can hardly breathe. Just when Yamada, who had been excited, finally seemed to calm down, they found themselves staring at each other from a distance of just ten centimeters².

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"

"...Yes."

Yamada looks surprised.

"When was that?"

"I did it with Ayumi from the class next door in kindergarten."

Before Michihiko could protest, Yamada, who had spat out his disbelief, kisses him. The sensation of moist lips, the faint taste of the cigarette Yamada was smoking, even though his ass wasn’t being touched, it made his back tingle.

"I'm your first kiss. How does it feel?"

After a sly smile, Yamada buries his face in Michihiko's chest. After a while, when Michihiko thought Yamada had stopped talking, he heard a regular, gentle breathing sound.

It's strange, but Michihiko felt like he was the mother, so he hugged his head with short hair tightly. Even though Yamada was older and stronger than him, even though he was a yakuza, he couldn't understand where the feeling of wanting to protect him came from.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

The sunlight hitting his face woke him up. It was blinding. He felt unusually cramped and realized he had been sleeping entangled with Yamada.

Yamada was lying face down with his face pressed against the futon. With his mouth half-open, he didn’t look like a yakuza at all.

Feeling the urge to use the bathroom, he tried to squirm out of the futon, but his shirt was tugged.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom."

Despite saying that, he was pulled back into the futon. Like a continuation of last night, he was tightly hugged, and his head was roughly patted.

"I'm going to pee myself."

Even though he complained, Yamada wouldn’t let go.

"You know, even when I sleep with women, I’ve never stayed until morning. With soapland girls, the time is set, and at love hotels, it’s only a few hours. Besides, after sex, it feels awkward, like the mood gets ruined."

Yamada pressed his stubbly chin against his head.

"Ouch, it hurts!"

When he flapped his arms, Yamada chuckled.

"You're not boring to be around. Even though you're more troublesome than a girl."

“Hey," the man said, shaking Michihiko's body.

"Michihiko, why don’t you join the gang? I’ll talk to the boss, and I’ll take care of you."

"I don’t want to be a yakuza."

When he said that, Yamada easily let go and turned his back sulking.

"Idiot, I was just joking. A weakling like you wouldn’t be useful in the gang."

Even if he liked Yamada, becoming a yakuza was a different matter. Yamada said it was a joke, but it felt like he was serious about inviting him to join. He couldn’t understand why Yamada would invite someone weak like him.

Michihiko put on the underwear and pants and went out to the hallway. The door near the entrance looked like it could be the one, and when he entered, it was indeed the bathroom.

While he was using it, the doorknob rattled loudly. Even though he responded, “Someone’s in here,” the door was banged and kicked noisily. It seemed Yamada, who had been asleep, suddenly needed to use the bathroom. Michihiko felt it was Yamada's unique way of being mean, so he deliberately took his time.

When he came out to the hallway, it wasn’t Yamada standing in front of the bathroom. It was Minobe, a tall man wearing only black sweatpants. Minobe frowned slightly and tilted his stubbly chin.

"...Who are you?"

Even with few words, his presence made Michihiko want to step back. Anger emanated from him. This guy was bad news, scary... Michihiko looked down nervously.

Unexpectedly, he was struck from the left. Slapped by the tall man, Michihiko hit his head against the hallway wall.

"I asked who you are!"

With a loud noise, "Big brother!" Yamada rushed out from the room into the hallway. He hid the fallen Michihiko behind his back and bowed deeply on the floor.

"I’m sorry. My friend must have done something rude."

Minobe smirked... looking pleased.

"Yamada, whose house is this?"

"Ah, it's big brother's house."

"And you're a freeloader, right?"

"Y-Yes."

"As a freeloader, don't make me wait for the toilet!"

Yamada repeatedly apologized, bowing his head over and over.

"I told you from the start, didn’t I? When I need to use the bathroom, come out immediately even if you’re in the middle of something. Your friend made me wait. This is your fault, Yamada."

Yamada's voice was trembling as he replied "Yes."

"Raise your head and clench your teeth."

Yamada, shaking, clenched his teeth and raised his face. Minobe smiled as he punched Yamada in the cheek. Yamada hit the wall with a bang and slid down. Minobe grabbed his collar and hit him again. He beat and kicked Yamada like a lion playing with a dying impala, dragging him up only to hit him down again.

Michihiko crouched among the trash in the hallway, trembling. With a sickening crunch, something white rolled to his feet... a tooth. If Minobe kept beating him, Yamada might die. Without thinking, Michihiko charged at Minobe.

"Let go of Shinji!"

"Idiot."

Michihiko grabbed Minobe's waist, but Yamada pulled him off and threw him behind him.

"You stay still!"

Yamada, turning around with a bloody and swollen face, shouted. Minobe grabbed his short hair from behind and kicked him down. With a cracking sound, Yamada’s body jerked. Soon, no matter how much he was beaten, Yamada stopped making any sound.

"What are you doing?"

A sweet voice called out, and a woman in underwear came out from the back room. Michihiko recognized her from a previous encounter at the entrance. The woman looked down at the bloodied Yamada and covered her mouth, saying, "Scary." Minobe straightened up and laughed.

"This is discipline. Like with a dog or a cat, if they misbehave, you have to punish them. This idiot needs to learn through his body... Go back to the room, Airi. I’ll be with you soon."

The woman named Airi replied sweetly, "Okay," and Minobe went into the bathroom. Instantly, Airi's expression changed, looking annoyed. "Shinji is such an idiot. He should know what happens if he makes Minobe angry," she shrugged and went back to the room.

With the battered Yamada before him, Michihiko didn’t know what to do. Approaching the bloodied man, he called, "Shinji, Shinji," but got no response. Shaking him, Yamada moaned and opened his eyes slightly.

"Chinchin-hiko..."

"Do you recognize me, Shinji?"

"Take me to the room... Big brother takes a long time to take a shit in the morning, so before then...".

Michihiko dragged the man, like a ragdoll, into the room. On the tatami, curled up like a cat, Yamada moaned.

"It hurts, it hurts..."

Each time Yamada said it hurt, Michihiko’s tears flowed.

"We need to go to the hospital, the hospital..."

Yamada muttered, "No money."

" I don't have insurance. I know a quack doctor, but they’re expensive. Ribs might be broken, but if I stay still, they’ll heal. I can still move, so it’s probably fine..."

"I'll pay for the hospital, I'll pay for everything."

"It’ll heal if I stay still."

Saying that, he curled up even more. Watching the unmoving man, Michihiko held his breath. Suddenly, Yamada opened his eyes.

"...Your tears are warm."

With a blood-stained mouth, he grinned.

"Your face is swollen, isn't it?"

Yamada’s hand, trembling, stroked Michihiko’s cheek.

"Was it just one punch from big brother?"

Michihiko nodded.

"Big brother doesn’t hold back on civilians. You’re lucky you didn’t get completely beaten up with that cute face."

"E-Even you hit me too."

“It's fine with me, I'm going easy on him...” After saying that, Yamada let out a sigh.

"My head’s spinning. It’s not an earthquake, right?"

Suddenly, Yamada held his head.

"I'm seriously dizzy. I feel sick."

Before he could finish, Yamada vomited blood. The tatami turned red, and Michihiko felt his hair stand on end.

"That's why I said we should go to the hospital!"

With a pale face, Yamada laughed weakly, then vomited blood again.

"So much blood... It’s my first time seeing this much. I’ve fought a lot, but it hurts so much and I feel sleepy. It’s weird. Am I dying? I’m scared. Do people die from this much? I don’t want to be cremated."

Yamada’s voice turned into a sob as he asked, "Hold my hand." When Michihiko grasped his blood-stained hand, it squeezed back tightly.

"I feel cold... Hey, Michihiko, it’s not winter, right? It’s not snowing, right?"

"It’s June, there’s no snow!"

Saying that, Yamada finally seemed relieved and closed his eyes.

"Would you be sad if I died?"

"What are you saying?"

"Would you really be sad? Would you cry?"

Mumbling, Yamada said, "I’m scared, Michihiko," and then the strength left his hand.

"Hey, Shinji. Hey..."

No matter how much he shook him, he didn’t wake up. Yamada might have died. He might really be dead... Grabbing his phone from the tatami, Michihiko called 119 for an ambulance with trembling hands.

"Hurry, he might be dead. He might be dead. Hurry, help him. It might not be too late. Please, please, save Shinji, please!"

The 119 operator’s tone seemed coldly calm. "Please tell me the location where you need the ambulance," they said.

Holding the phone, Michihiko was at a loss. He didn’t know the address. He could only describe it vaguely: off the station, through a residential area, up a hill. That wouldn't work. He had to ask someone... He rushed out of Yamada’s room and into the back room. Airi, Minobe’s woman, was lying on the bed reading a magazine and looked puzzled as Michihiko burst in.

"What's this place's address? You know it, right?"

"What’s with you, making a fuss?"

Seeing Michihiko panicking, Airi’s expression turned from annoyed to slightly worried.

"What's wrong? Shin... Yamada, did something happen to him?"

"He’s dying! Please tell me the address quickly."

"Ugh, you’re noisy."

Ignoring Michihiko's plea to provide the address, Airi quickly dressed and muttered, "I don't want any trouble," before stepping over the pool of blood in the hallway and leaving.

"Wait!"

Michihiko chased after her but by the time he reached the entrance, the elevator Airi had taken was already descending. He needed the address—this address—right away. Desperate, he clung to the door of a nearby apartment and rang the bell frantically.

"Please, open up. Please open the door..."

He heard the lock click. Through the door chain, he saw a middle-aged man in pajamas, frowning irritably.

"What do you want this early in the morning?"

"I...I need to call an ambulance, but I don't know the address. In the room three doors down, my friend might be dead. So, please, please..."

The man looked down at Michihiko suspiciously, "You're not trying to fool me, are you?"

"It's not a lie. My friend might really be dead. I'm calling the ambulance now, so please tell me the address."

The man peeked at Michihiko's phone and muttered, "It's disconnected." It seemed Michihiko had accidentally pressed a button while running around. As he hurried to redial, the door shut firmly in front of him.

He couldn't believe it. This was real; his friend might be dead, but no one would help. No one would save Yamada. Shaking with rage and despair, Michihiko screamed, "Uwaaah!"

Michihiko dialed 110 for the police on the spot. As soon as it connected, he blurted out, "Someone's dead. They were killed by Minobe from the Shima group. Killed at Minobe's apartment. Minobe has killed people before. I know. I saw it. If you let him go, people will keep dying. Arrest him now! Give him the death penalty! Kill him!"

He hung up after saying all that but immediately dialed 110 again.

"Catch Minobe quickly. Otherwise, he'll escape. He's in the bathroom right now. Hurry, hurry up. The murderer will get away. Hurry, hurry..."

He hung up again and redialed within a minute.

"I said hurry up. Quickly, quickly, quickly... call an ambulance!"

He kept making incoherent calls endlessly because he couldn't stop himself. Why wouldn't anyone help? His dear friend was in terrible trouble, and no one would help. Isn't the police supposed to catch bad people? Why were they letting such a bad man go free? It made no sense.

While he was yelling, someone grabbed his shoulder. He turned to see a young policeman standing there.

"What are you doing?"

Justice and authority. Michihiko clung to the policeman's blue uniform. Startled, the policeman instinctively pushed Michihiko away. Michihiko fell onto the concrete.

"Help me, help me."

Michihiko clung to the policeman's legs.

"Save Shinji, please. Call an ambulance. And arrest Minobe..."

The young policeman stepped back, looking confused. Michihiko curled up on the concrete, holding his head, crying like a small child.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

The room was small, with white walls and a single window with latticework. The sunlight streaming in was dim. It had been sunny in the morning, but the weather started to worsen before noon, and now it was raining. He could hear the rain.

With red, tear-swollen eyes, Michihiko sat with his head down on a metal chair with the plastic backrest torn and foam sticking out. Across from him sat the detective he had met in front of the library the previous night. The young detective with him had called him Tabuchi.

"About three hours ago, a missing person report was filed from your home. They said you didn't come back from your morning jog in time for school. We've informed them that you're safe, so your parents will be here to pick you up soon."

Michihiko clenched his hands tightly on his lap.

"You probably want to go home soon, but before that, let me ask you a few questions," the detective said in a soft tone, but there was an undeniable sense of intimidation in his face.

They asked Michihiko about the time he left home, the time he arrived at Yamada's house, and what he was doing there. When he said he was watching a video, they asked about the title and content. Stammering, he replied, "An adult video," causing the young detective standing nearby to chuckle.

Finally, they got to the part about Minobe's assault on Yamada.

"You said you saw Minobe assault Yamada. Do you remember how many times he hit him?"

"He hit him ten times...maybe more. And kicked him about the same number of times."

He recalled Yamada's small body bouncing from the kicks, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"Did you feel that Minobe intended to kill Yamada?"

Michihiko nodded vigorously.

"Why do you think that?"

"Because he was laughing. Even though Shinji’s teeth were broken and there was a lot of blood, he was kicking him happily. Then he told a woman, 'This is discipline,' saying Shinji was stupid and needed to be disciplined."

For the first time, the detective leaned forward, showing interest.

"So there was a woman there with you. Do you know who she was?"

Michihiko shook his head.

"I don't know. But Minobe called her Airi."

The detective exchanged glances with his young colleague, who then left the room. Michihiko explained everything that happened until the police arrived. When he finished, the detective left the room but returned about five minutes later.

"Your parents are here. But there's one more thing we need to confirm with you."

The detective stared intently at Michihiko.

"You told the police that Minobe had killed other people besides Yamada. Is that true?"

Michihiko nodded.

"Who did he kill?"

When Michihiko mentioned Saito Hitomi, the detective raised an eyebrow slightly.

"How do you know Minobe killed Saito?"

Michihiko sighed.

"Because I saw it... I saw Minobe kill Saito."

The detective tilted his head.

"I was involved in that case, but Saito died between ten and eleven at night. That's a time when students can't enter the school."

Michihiko fidgeted with his fingers on his lap.

"There was one window that was left unlocked. I had a test the next day and forgot my notebook, so I went to the school to get it... That's when I saw Minobe push Saito out the window."

The detective sighed.

"Were they struggling?"

"...Yes."

"Did Saito fall headfirst?"

Michihiko thought for a moment before answering.

"Yes."

The detective glared sharply at Michihiko.

"Usually, when someone is pushed out of a window, even if they gain some momentum from being pushed, they will inevitably fall closer to the building. This is especially true if they were resisting. But in her case, she clearly fell farther than the place where she would have fallen had she been pushed out. Do you know what that means?"

Michihiko lowered his eyes. This was bad.

"Saito Hitomi fell with acceleration, meaning she jumped willingly. The forensic results also show she fell feet first. Both the coroner and prosecutor concluded it was suicide."

Michihiko raised his face.

"Saito was strangled by Minobe until she was limp, then he pushed her out the window..."

"Stop lying!"

Michihiko flinched as the detective shouted.

"There were no signs of strangulation on her neck. The possibility of strangulation was already ruled out!"

The detective leaned over the desk, almost lunging at Michihiko.

"Lying is a crime called perjury. Why are you making things up? Do you enjoy tricking adults?"

Spitting as he yelled, the detective's intensity made Michihiko tear up. The young detective whispered to the older one, "Tabuchi, he's just a kid, please calm down."

"Kid or not, lying is wrong. Even kindergarteners know that!"

Tabuchi pounded the desk. The vibration of his anger reached Michihiko.

"Minobe might as well have killed her. He told Saito to 'die,' so she jumped out the window!"

The room was silent. The detective looked at Michihiko in shock.

"Saito didn't intend to die. But because Minobe told her to 'die,' she jumped. Knowing she would die and telling her to die, isn't that murder? It's like having a gun and shooting someone," Michihiko argued loudly.

"Minobe also killed Shinji, didn't he? He beat him, kicked him to death. Shinji was scared of dying. He was in pain. Minobe should face the same fate. Give him the death penalty. Just get rid of that guy," Michihiko yelled.

A loud "whap" sound filled the room as a slap landed on Michihiko's right cheek. The young detective, who had turned pale, said, "Tabuchi, don't use violence against children." Tabuchi shouted back, "I'm holding back!"

"If you hit someone because they hit you, if you kill someone because they killed someone, you’re no better than a yakuza. The police and courts exist to prevent that. Even if Minobe is a bad guy, you don't need to make up crimes he didn't commit."

As the detective stood up, his excitement seemed to subside, and he sat back down heavily. Michihiko understood what the detective was saying, but he didn't want to accept it.

"You seem to be quite protective of Yamada Shinji, but in my opinion, he's not much different from Minobe, a petty thug," the detective leaned forward, trying to admonish him, he continued.

"When you're young, there's a time when you're inexplicably drawn to bad things. It's like a drug. You might envy those who do as they please, but in my opinion, they're scum. They're stupid people who can only solve things with money and violence," the detective continued.

Michihiko didn't become friends with Yamada because he was a yakuza. They didn't become friends for that reason. The detective's words, missing the mark entirely, made him bite his lip in frustration.

"Go to school and study, kid. There are plenty of other things you need to learn," the detective advised.

The detective took out a cigarette from his pocket, muttering, "You know..." The younger detective started to say, "Tabuchi, this is a no-smoking area..." but was cut off with a glare and "Just one."

"Kids these days have it too easy. They have plenty to eat, plenty to wear, yet they still kill themselves over things like relationship issues or school bullying." The smell of cigarette smoke filled the room.

"...Saito didn't die because she wanted to die," Michihiko said.

"What?" The detective looked at Tabuchi with a raised eyebrow.

Michihiko glared up at Tabuchi. "She didn't want to die. As long as there are adults like you, more kids will keep dying."

Tabuchi furrowed his brow in a grim expression. "Do you have kids?" he asked. Tabuchi seemed puzzled by the question and simply replied, "Yes."

"How old are they?"

"One is in the second year of high school, and the other is in the third year of middle school..."

"Then I'll transfer to your kid's school. I'll bully them until they want to die."

Tabuchi's eyes widened.

"If your kid dies, say the same thing. Tell them kids these days have it too easy. They have plenty to eat and wear, but they kill themselves over school bullying."

Tabuchi raised his right hand high. Michihiko closed his eyes, but the blow never came. When he opened his eyes, the younger detective had grabbed Tabuchi's raised arm.

"Tabuchi, it’s just a kid talking, don’t get emotional..."

Tabuchi hit the young detective on the head once, then sat down heavily on a chair. Scratching his nearly bald head, he spat out, "Take this kid to his parents," and left the room first.

After they were alone, Michihiko asked the young detective, "Where is Shinji's funeral?"

The young detective hesitated. "Please tell me. Even friends can follow to the crematorium, right?"

The young detective just gave an awkward smile, unable to tell him anything. Michihiko asked the same question again before leaving the room, but still received no answer.

Back from the police station, Michihiko had a talk with his father. When asked how he met Yamada, the yakuza, Michihiko honestly confessed about being bullied by Nagao and how Yamada had helped him.

After telling his story, Michihiko expressed his desire to attend Shinji's funeral. His father's response was a stern "No."

"Why can't I go to the funeral?"

His father said he didn't recognize Yamada as Michihiko's friend.

"Yamada might have had some good points, but the influence he had on you was far from commendable. You lied to your parents to hang out with him, stayed out late... Your mother was worried sick."

Michihiko's mother, shocked by his unauthorized overnight stays and association with a yakuza, had collapsed into bed as soon as they returned home. Faced with the facts, Michihiko had nothing to say.

"I've respected your wishes until now, but this is the result. Think about why I won't let you go to the funeral."

Michihiko couldn't lift his head. He understood what his father was saying, but attending Yamada's funeral was something he couldn't compromise on.

The next day, he disobeyed his father's order to stay home and went out. Lacking the pocket money his mother usually gave him, he couldn't afford the train, so he walked to Minobe's apartment.

The police tape was still up in front of Minobe's room, so he couldn't enter. It didn't seem like a funeral was being held there. Maybe it was at his family’s home, but Michihiko knew nothing about Yamada's family.

He was quickly found after sneaking out, sending his mother into hysterics. Even his usually calm father yelled at him. Though scolded, Michihiko remained unmoved. More upsetting was not being able to follow Yamada to the crematorium despite his fear and reluctance.

Michihiko stopped going to school and stayed in his room, crying repeatedly as he remembered Yamada's last words and expressions. Despite Yamada's vulgar speech, his seemingly dim-witted nature, and roughness, Michihiko had liked him—a lot. He was a dear friend.

Thinking that Yamada might not have died if Michihiko had intervened earlier in the beating, he wept in regret.

While Michihiko was absent, a large stash of packaged methamphetamine was found in an old spice jar in the home economics room at school. The dealer, Minobe, was arrested. He was an ex-gang member, no longer part of the Shima group.

Michihiko remained truant as summer vacation began. Worried about his reclusiveness and silence, his father suggested he visit an uncle's house in Nagasaki. Though reluctant, he was sent to Nagasaki almost forcibly.

Unable to stay holed up out of consideration for his aunt and uncle, Michihiko started going outside. Mistaking this for recovery, his father, concerned about bullying, asked if he would attend school in Nagasaki from the second term.

Ultimately, Michihiko spent the rest of junior high in Nagasaki. Six months later, he returned home, passed the entrance exam for his father's all-boys boarding school alma mater, and was accepted. During the long spring break between graduating junior high and entering high school, he spent most of his time in Nagasaki. Upon returning, he was busy preparing for school.

Seeing places where he had been with Yamada, like the arcade and McDonald's, made his chest ache. The memories, fading with distance, resurfaced and brought tears. The pain was unbearable, but he didn’t want to forget Yamada.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

There was less than a week left until the high school entrance ceremony. On April 1st, Michihiko went to the department store with his mother. The new uniform they had ordered had arrived, but the hem was too long and needed to be altered again.

It would take about an hour, so Michihiko decided to meet his mother at the department store's uniform section once it was finished and parted ways with her. He wanted to avoid being dragged along for her window shopping, so he escaped. While he was taking the escalator up, thinking of going to a bookstore, he suddenly needed to go to the bathroom. The bookstore was on the eighth floor, but he got off on the sixth floor for the time being, hurried across the baby products section, and dashed into the restroom. While he was peeing, he heard loud, noisy voices coming from the restroom entrance.

"Isn't this enough already?"

"Idiot, it's not enough yet. The grander the celebration, the better."

A shiver ran down Michihiko's spine. That unforgettable voice. Could it be... a ghost? He turned around fearfully. There he was! Standing at the entrance. But Yamada Shinji was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be dead, yet there he was, wearing the familiar blue jacket with white stripes, talking and moving. He had never heard of him having a twin brother.

"Go back to the car and get the stuff..."

Shinji noticed him too. With a surprised face, he stared intently at Michihiko. Michihiko was so happy, too happy, that he didn't know how to call out to him. He started to run over, but then realized he still had his penis out. Flustered, he looked up, and by then, the back of the blue jacket was already heading out of the restroom.

"Shinji!"

Just as he reached out to grab his arm, a man with thin eyebrows carrying a large box stepped in between them. Blocked, Michihiko watched the back move further away.

"Shinji, Shinji..."

"What do you want with my bro?"

A square-faced, stocky man glared up at Michihiko.

"I need to talk to Shinji..."

"Don't act familiar with my bro!"

The man kicked Michihiko's right leg, causing him to fall to the restroom floor. Seeing this, Shinji came back and slapped the thin-browed man's face.

"Don't touch civilians. You idiot."

The large box fell to the restroom floor, and its corner crumpled.

"Go to the store and get a new, clean box!"

The man, ordered by Shinji, picked up the box and left the restroom. Shinji glanced at Michihiko, who was still sitting on the floor, and muttered, "Sorry," before turning his back.

Michihiko got up and clung to Shinji's arm. It felt real. The arm of a living person. But he was quickly and harshly brushed off. Undeterred, Michihiko grabbed the arm again with both hands. It was rough but warm.

"I'm so glad you're alive."

Tears streamed down his face. Unlike the teary Michihiko, Shinji remained unresponsive.

"...Stop fake crying."

That one remark surprised Michihiko.

"I'm not faking! I'm really happy."

"You never even visited me once!"

Shinji's eyes were seriously angry.

"But I thought you were dead!"

Talking made the tears flow again. Remembering the nights he spent crying made the tears fall once more. Shinji, not exactly displeased but looking unconvinced, pursed his lips.

"Your father came to the hospital just to tell me you didn't want to see me anymore!"

"I didn't know! I never said that. I've always wanted to see you."

Shinji stared intently at Michihiko's face. Then, with his thumb, he wiped away the tears streaming down Michihiko's face.

"How can you cry so much?"

"Because... because..."

He looked pathetic, even with snot coming out.

"Like I'd die, idiot."

Shinji grinned.

"You look well."

Michihiko spread his arms wide and hugged Shinji tightly. The force made Shinji fall backward, but even on the restroom floor, he didn't get angry. He just kept ruffling Michihiko's hair, who was clinging to him like a baby monkey.

There were no children at the playground on the department store's rooftop. Yamada and Michihiko sat side by side on a bench, drinking juice from a vending machine. The sky was hazy, and a soft breeze caressed their cheeks.

Yamada's worn-out jacket had a badge that wasn't there before.

"What's that..." Michihiko pointed at it, and Yamada stroked the badge, saying, "This?"

"I got it from my old man. My brother Minobe got disowned for drugs, and I got promoted to a senior position," Yamada explained."

"Hmm," murmured Michihiko. "Shinji, did you know what this Minobe guy was doing?"

Yamada let out a small sigh and ruffled his blond hair. "I kind of had a hunch. There was a time when my brother made a huge fuss about Saito stealing something important from him. That’s when I suspected it. My brother always lived extravagantly. But my brother didn’t trust me much, so he did all his business alone."

Yamada took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

"There was a tip-off to the cops that my brother killed Saito. They said Saito must have had some close friends, so they told me to find them, I asked every junior high school student in the school... Well, that's when I met you."

"Feels like forever ago, even though it hasn’t even been a year..." Yamada exhaled a cloud of white smoke.

"That Saito kid was dating my brother. They met through some dating site. My brother found it amusing that she was a junior high schooler, but soon got bored and dumped her. Out of spite or something, Saito ran off with my brother's drugs."

Chased and cornered, Saito jumped. Was Minobe really the one who chased her down? Was that all there was to it? What about the school, the classmates, himself...?

It didn't feel like someone else's story. If he were in Saito's shoes, Michihiko might have done the same thing. Clinging to the person who became his anchor... he understood that feeling all too well. The only difference between him and Saito was that the person he fell for was Yamada, not Minobe.

"Actually, I was told not to see you. By Detective Tabuchi and your father. They said you were smart. I had a feeling, but still. They talked about your future, so I thought maybe it was best not to get involved..."

"That doesn't matter," Michihiko said, gripping Yamada's arm tightly.

"If we're friends, it doesn't matter. And you're my only friend, Shinji. There's no one else. So..."

Tears began to flow again.

"Don't cry, idiot." Yamada lightly knocked Michihiko on the head.

"Detective Tabuchi said to stay away from you, to keep you from getting dragged into this world. He said if you turn bad, you'll turn really bad and it's scary. But I didn't think that was true. You're just a fool who cries about not having friends."

Yamada grinned and then leaned in close to Michihiko's face.

"Hey, listen. I'm getting a tattoo on my back now. I got the badge, so I thought I'd commit to it. But it hurts like hell, I'm dying from the pain. It's still just the outline, and I haven't shown it to anyone yet, but I'll show it to you."

Yamada took off his jacket and lifted his T-shirt, turning his back to Michihiko. On his slender back was the outline of a dragon, like an unfinished coloring book. The dragon, with its silly open mouth, was facing a full moon on his left shoulder.

The moment he saw it, Michihiko was overcome with an indescribable sadness. The dragon looked pathetic, half-finished, weak, and uncool. It looked like a stingy, miserly god of poverty rather than a guardian.

"It's a dragon howling at the moon. Looks cool, right?"

"...This dragon is smiling," Michihiko observed.

Yamada's back twitched slightly.

"Idiot. It's howling."

"But its eyes are smiling. It looks like it's smiling at the moon," Michihiko said."

Yamada quickly covered his back, turning away with a pout. He seemed a bit miffed that Michihiko didn't call his tattoo cool. Michihiko tugged at the sleeve of Yamada's jacket.

"Oh, um, starting this spring, I'll be going to a boarding high school. It's about an hour from here, so come visit me."

Yamada didn't respond.

"It's on top of a big mountain. So, um, driving down from there would be really fun. Drifting... is that what it's called?"

"You hate that stuff," Yamada muttered in a sulky tone.

"I was just scared. I think when you get your license, I won't be scared anymore."

Yamada flicked Michihiko's forehead playfully. "You're a cheeky brat."

"I'm going to driving school now. Guess I have no choice. Once I get my license, I'll show off and drive up to that hick town on the mountain."

Yamada laughed. His face looked like the silly dragon smiling on his back, but Michihiko felt like he might get scolded if he said that.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW, suicide, violence.

1. A soapland (ソープランド) is a type of brothel in Japan where clients can receive sexual services, typically including a bath or shower with a female sex worker. The term "soapland" comes from the use of soap during the bathing process. These establishments are known for offering a range of services beyond just bathing, often including sexual activities.

2. Around 4 inches.

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