Bitterness of Youth: Part 2

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Even after New Year's, the fortune's power had no effect, and his uncle continued to laze around the house, waiting until no one was around to torment Akira.

The soles of his feet were scarred with burns where cigarettes had been pressed into them, causing a throbbing pain whenever he walked. The pain made him walk with a strange limp, and his classmates teased him for it. His back was swollen from too many beatings, making it painful to sit. When he fidgeted because of it, his teacher scolded him for being restless.

The sound of the bell signaling the end of school made him dread going home. As he walked back, a sharp pain pierced his heart.

One day, on his way back from school, he suddenly stopped in his tracks. The urge to not go home surged from the depths of his stomach, leaving him unable to take another step.

He turned on his heels and ran. Far away, from the school and from home. He stopped when he grew tired, lowering his head. When he finally lifted his face after catching his breath, he found himself at the back of the mountain. He suddenly remembered a classmate talking about the cave on the mountain behind the school, filled with bats and how creepy it was.

He vaguely knew the location, and after walking for a while, he spotted the cave. He squeezed through the narrow entrance, just wide enough for one person, between the rocks. It was dark inside. At the farthest reach of the dim light from outside, there was a fence blocking further passage.

Akira sat down by the wall near the fence. A strange noise, "Gii, gii," echoed from deep within. Was it the bats’ cries? It was eerie, but at least no one would come here.

His nose started to itch, and he couldn’t hold back a loud sneeze. At that moment, he saw a black mass rush out from the crack in the rocks, accompanied by the frantic flapping of wings, like a sudden downpour.

After the sound subsided, he peered deeper into the cave. His eyes, adjusted to the darkness, spotted bats hanging from the ceiling. The ones that flew out must have been near the entrance; there were still plenty left inside, clustered so thickly they covered the ceiling.

They all hung in the same position. Were they all companions, like a class at school?

"Squeak, squeak," the bats cried. They were all so close together, seeming friendly. He wished he could become a bat too, hanging upside down. If he were to be reborn, he’d want to be a bat. He was tired of being human.

Though the cave was peaceful, as the sun began to set and the light from the crack grew dimmer, a restless feeling stirred in his chest. Shouldn’t he go back? He didn’t want to see his uncle’s face, or get beaten again. But if he disappeared, wouldn’t his aunt suffer like before?

He stepped forward on trembling legs, driven only by the thought of protecting his aunt. His only hope was that his uncle would be dead. Please, let him be dead. But that was probably not going to happen today either. Even though he had prayed for it hundreds of times on his way home, the gods had never granted his wish.

As he approached the house, he kept his head down to avoid stopping when the house came into view. That’s why he didn’t notice the smoke rising from the yard until he was at the gate.

When he opened the wooden gate, he saw his aunt squatting in the yard, tending to a bonfire. The overgrown garden had been tidied up, probably after weeding.

"What are you doing?"

His aunt smiled, her eyes narrowing. "I’m roasting sweet potatoes," she said, pulling a foil-wrapped potato from the fire and offering him half. The warm, soft potato was delicious, and for a moment, the pain in his back and legs disappeared.

"Something good happened today," she said, her voice unusually cheerful.

"The fortune came true. He found a job. The daily pay seems pretty good too. Once he starts working, I’m sure he won’t get angry at you anymore."

"I’m fine," he said, as his aunt pulled him close, hugging his head to her chest.

"You’re such a good boy, Akira. You’re so kind, just like your father."

The sweet potatoes they secretly shared tasted so good. That night, perhaps because his uncle had found work, he didn’t even look at Akira, let alone beat him. As he drifted off to sleep, Akira wondered, maybe the fortune really would come true.

That night, he was awakened by the noisy sound of someone running down the hallway. At the same time, the thick smoke and the acrid smell of burning filled the air, making him cough uncontrollably. His throat hurt. He couldn’t breathe.

He rushed to the window, desperate for fresh air, and when he opened it, a wave of hot air hit his face. The yard was ablaze. Everything was on fire. When he turned back, he saw white smoke pouring in through the cracks in the sliding doors facing the corridor.

He hesitated, unsure whether to escape into the burning yard or rush through the hallway to the front door. With all this smoke, the house must be on fire too.

He threw a blanket over his head and dashed into the yard. Despite the searing pain in his feet, he kept running. Halfway through, the blanket caught fire, burning his hands until he let go. Just as he reached the gate, he bumped into someone and fell backward.

"Hey, are you alright?"

A man he didn’t know lifted him up.

"It’s good you made it out. Are you burned?"

Nodding at the man’s worried voice, Akira heard a loud crash behind him and turned around. The front of the house had collapsed, sending flames shooting into the sky. The realization that he had just been inside filled him with terror, making his knees shake uncontrollably.

"It must have been scary, but you’re safe now," the man said, trying to comfort him by rubbing his back, but the trembling wouldn’t stop.

"Are you from that house? Who else lives there with you?"

"My... my aunt, my uncle, and... Satoshi."

"Three people. Do you know if they made it out?"

"I... I don’t know. I came out through the window..."

As he looked around, he spotted his aunt, uncle, and Satoshi a little distance away. They were all standing there, staring at the raging flames with vacant expressions.

"They’re there..."

He was relieved. Everyone had made it out. Akira staggered toward his family.

"Everyone..."

His uncle, who had been looking back, glared at him. Satoshi looked at him with contempt, and his aunt lowered her eyes. Something was wrong. He had escaped. They were all safe...

Without a word, his uncle grabbed him by the collar. Although he hadn’t hit him in the face recently, and despite the presence of so many people, his uncle punched him with a fist. Everything went black, and he fell backward. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Stop it, please!" his aunt cried as she grabbed onto his uncle, who roughly shook her off. Akira was dragged up again and punched once more. When he fell, his uncle kicked him in the stomach, making him vomit everything he had eaten that night.

"Hey! What do you think you’re doing? If you hit him any more, you’ll kill the boy!"

His uncle was finally restrained by the crowd, but he struggled, swinging his arms and yelling, "Let go!"

"Are you alright, kid?"

Someone he didn’t know asked, but Akira couldn’t speak with his mouth in so much pain. Even though he tried to force out words, all that came out was a thick, bloody ooze.

"You! It’s your fault the house burned down because you didn’t properly put out the bonfire!" His uncle's voice was almost like a scream. Behind him, embers floated from his once-proud house.

...But Akira wasn’t the one who was tending the fire. He had just sat next to his aunt, talked a bit, and eaten some sweet potatoes. It was his aunt who had started the fire, and his aunt who had put it out.

Behind his uncle, his aunt was crying as she looked over at Akira. ...Auntie was scared. She was scared of getting yelled at by Uncle... that’s why...

"You hated me that much, huh? You repay me for raising you by betraying me, you little brat. You should just die!"

Tears streamed down his uncle’s face, while his aunt sat next to him, covering her face. Akira had never seen hell before, but somehow, right now... this felt like it.

His tooth was broken, blood wouldn’t stop filling his mouth, so he went to the hospital. It wasn’t his aunt who came with him, but his homeroom teacher, who had come after hearing the commotion.

As they drove to the hospital, tears welled up in Akira’s eyes. His aunt had always protected him. When his uncle hit him, she would step in between them. She had been kind to him. And yet, she blamed him. Even though she was the one using the fire, she had been scared of his uncle... that’s why she blamed the child. He had been betrayed. She didn’t protect him. He couldn’t be protected.

The teacher, driving the car, said, "You were scared, weren’t you? But it’s okay now." Her words only made him sadder. His aunt had betrayed him. That thought kept spinning round and round in his head.

When the doctor examined him, he noticed the soles of his feet. "You have an old burn here," he said. Akira stayed silent. Then, he made him take off all his clothes. He found all kinds of bruises, in different colors, hidden on his body.

When the doctor asked, "How did you get these injuries?" Akira quietly replied, "Uncle did it." He had kept quiet to protect his aunt, but now he was tired of it all. After the examination, the teacher and the doctor talked in the hallway for a long time.

It was near dawn when he was taken from the hospital to a temporary shelter. "You’ll stay here for a while," the homeroom teacher said, and Akira felt relieved. He didn’t want to see his aunt’s face, and if he stayed with his uncle, he felt like he’d be killed.

He didn’t know what kind of place this was, but the staff told him it’s where kids go when their parents are violent or can’t take care of them.

At first, after arriving, Akira hated his aunt. Whether he was awake or asleep, he could only think about her, and he would cry when he remembered the sadness of being betrayed, of not being protected. But as the days passed, one by one, he started wanting to see her again.

Maybe his aunt regretted blaming her nephew because she had been scared of his uncle. If he saw her and she apologized, saying, "I’m sorry I blamed you, Akira," he thought he could forgive her. ...After all, violence was terrifying. His uncle’s big hands were terrifying. It hurt to be hit. Akira knew that better than anyone.

In the end, he was glad his aunt wasn’t the one who got hit."

Life at the temporary shelter was as regular as clockwork. Akira didn’t find it restrictive, and it was far better than being hit by his uncle. But still, he wanted to see her. He wanted to see his aunt. He wanted to see her face.

"When can I go back to Auntie’s place?"

Whenever he asked, the staff would only respond vaguely, "We still don’t know yet." Two weeks later, when he was told that his guardian, his uncle, had decided to place him in a facility, he was too shocked to speak, and food wouldn’t go down his throat.

Even though the house had burned down and was gone, he still had a family. He didn’t understand why, even though he had a family, he had to live apart from them.

When he was brought to the private childcare facility run by Director Isahaya, Akira kept his head down and didn’t say a word, not even a greeting.

"Akira-kun, are you alright?"

The director, Isahaya, crouched down and peered up at him. Akira didn’t like it and tucked his chin in tightly so his face wouldn’t be seen.

"Can I give you a hug?"

Before Akira could respond, he was suddenly lifted up, surprising him.

"Whoa, you’re so light."

As Isahaya jostled him, Akira clung to the director’s neck in a hurry.

"Oh, sorry. Did I scare you? Whenever a new kid comes, I just can’t help wanting to hold them. The bigger ones are a bit too heavy, though."

Isahaya’s scent was different from his aunt’s or uncle’s. His cheek came close and brushed against Akira’s for just a moment, a slightly rough sensation. After hugging him tightly, Isahaya set the new child down and adjusted his silver-rimmed glasses.

"The first thing you need to do here is eat a lot of food," he said with a gentle smile, his eyes softening behind the glasses as he tousled Akira’s hair.

"Starting today, this will be your home. It might take some time to get used to things, but if there’s anything on your mind, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?"

Isahaya’s large hand wrapped around Akira’s right hand, squeezing it gently. Akira finally raised his head and looked directly at Isahaya’s face.

"…Do I have to stay here forever?"

His voice trembled.

"If you go to high school, you can stay here until you’re eighteen," Isahaya said, speaking slowly.

"Can’t I go back to Auntie’s place?"

"You can return if your uncle and aunt decide to take you back."

"…Did they abandon me?"

There was a brief pause. As he feared, they had abandoned him. The moment he realized it, tears spilled from his eyes.

"Oh, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…"

Akira was pulled into the warm arms of an adult, held tightly.

"They didn’t abandon you. I heard your house burned down, so things must be tough for them right now."

"Then why doesn’t Satoshi have to come here? It’s because I’m not their real child that they threw me away."

"That’s not true."

Akira pressed his face into Isahaya’s polo shirt and sobbed. He cried his heart out for a long time, and eventually, the storm in his chest began to calm down. Once he realized how much he had cried in front of someone, he felt embarrassed and tried to pull away, but instead, he was held even tighter.

"They need time apart right now. Your uncle and aunt both need to think things over on their own. Once they’ve sorted out their feelings, I’m sure they’ll come to get you."

Isahaya took a tissue and pressed it to Akira’s nose.

"Okay, blow."

Akira was startled by the way Isahaya treated him like a baby needing his nose wiped. He hesitantly allowed the director to help him. After making sure Akira’s tears had stopped, Isahaya smiled warmly.

"Come on. Let me introduce you to the friends you’ll be living with here."

He took Akira’s hand. Isahaya’s hand was large, strong, and warm. His face, with its neatly parted hair, looked serious—like a schoolteacher.

Akira thought, I wish Auntie had married someone like this. Someone who worked properly and didn’t hit people. As that thought passed through his mind, he squeezed Isahaya’s hand back tightly.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The facility housed eighteen children, ranging from kindergarteners to high school students. The boys outnumbered the girls, ten to eight. The younger kids were friendly and talkative, but the older ones, around high school age, ignored Akira.

Akira was assigned to a caretaker named Tokura, a chubby woman in her fifties. "I’ll be like a mother to you, so if you have any problems, don’t hesitate to ask," she had told him. But she always seemed busy, and Akira felt reluctant even to ask her for something as small as buying mechanical pencil leads. Once, when someone stole his eraser and he asked Tokura for help, she retrieved it from the culprit, but afterward, the other kids started calling him a "snitch," taunting and pushing him around. The bullying didn’t plunge him into despair; after all, they were just kids like him, and it was nothing compared to the terror of being beaten by his uncle.

Besides, Akira believed he wouldn’t be staying there for long. He felt sure that his aunt would come for him. Just like Isahaya had said, once she had calmed down and their life stabilized...

If she was going to come for him, it would probably be before he started middle school. If he stayed at the facility, he’d have to transfer to a different school.

Contrary to his hopes, in April, Akira enrolled in the middle school in the district where the facility was located. Both Isahaya and Tokura attended the entrance ceremony. Akira kept glancing back at the gymnasium entrance, hoping to see his aunt, but she never appeared.

He had been at the facility since early February, and by the end of April, he used his pocket money to visit his old house. He had imagined a new house would have been built on the site after the fire, but instead, the land was completely cleared, as flat and barren as a playground, with a "For Sale" sign posted.

He stepped onto the vacant lot. This was where the entrance used to be, the kitchen was in the back, and his room was further inside. But as he walked around, there was no sensation of the hallway’s wooden floorboards beneath his feet, nor the smell of tatami mats from his room—only the crunch of black gravel underfoot.

In the end, he just wandered around the empty lot before returning to the facility. After that, he spent his pocket money visiting the site every holiday. It was the only thing connecting him to his family. Once, he lied about having a stomachache and left school early to visit the middle school he would have attended if he had still lived with his aunt. He waited outside the school gates until they closed, but he never saw Satoshi.

On June 1st, Akira celebrated his birthday at the facility along with two other kids who were also born that month. On his actual birthday, June 13th, he received nothing from his aunt.

As summer vacation approached, the other children at the facility began to go home for short stays. Akira received neither a call nor an invitation for a short stay from his aunt.

He spent New Year’s at the facility as well. The only New Year’s card he received was from a school teacher. By then, he had stopped visiting the empty lot where his house had been, but when he returned during winter break, the "For Sale" sign was gone, and a new house was being built.

He started visiting every weekend to watch the house take shape. The wooden framework went up, then the walls, and finally, the windows were installed, turning it into a proper home. Watching it go up was exciting. By March, the house was completed, and a family of three—a man, a woman, and a small child—moved in.

Seeing this made Akira realize that he had truly been abandoned. The feeling grew and grew, gnawing at him. Even when he returned to the bus stop, he couldn’t bring himself to board. He let bus after bus pass by until he finally got on one. He sat in the very back, next to the window, staring out into space.

Why hadn’t anyone come for him? Was it because he wasn’t their real child? Because he was too expensive to care for? But it wasn’t his fault he wasn’t their real child or that he cost money.

What else could he have done? Should he have been a better kid? He had studied hard and helped around the house. What else... had he been lacking?

It had grown completely dark outside, and he didn’t even know where the bus was anymore. He was the only passenger left, and eventually, the bus came to a stop. The driver’s voice called out, "Last stop," and Akira stood up. He searched his pockets... but he didn’t have enough money.

"...I’m sorry. I’ll come back and pay next month when I get my allowance."

The driver, looking exasperated, said, "Forget it. Just put in what you have," and waved him off like he was shooing away a stray dog. After getting off the bus, Akira looked around and saw a subway station, but he didn’t have the money to ride.

He sat down by a planter next to a phone booth and thought about the time he was thrown out of the house on New Year’s Eve. The loneliness and emptiness he felt now were the same, but back then, he still had hope in the form of his aunt.

His uncle had a job then, wasn’t hitting him, and when he came home, there were snacks, and the four of them would eat dinner together, with his aunt smiling. But that house had burned down, and nothing that was lost would ever be the same again.

No one was coming for him anymore. So what now? ...Nothing. He would just keep living at the facility.

He tried to understand what it meant to be alone. And he slowly realized that the hollow feeling in his chest was what it meant to be alone. Being alone was lonely. So how could he escape that loneliness?

It was past ten o’clock at night when a police officer approached him by the station and asked where his home was. When he honestly replied, "I don’t know," they took him to the police station. About an hour later, Isahaya rushed into the station. As soon as he saw Akira, he let out a big sigh of relief and said, "I was worried about you."

Inside Isahaya’s old car, there was a smell of tobacco.

"You fell asleep on the bus and missed your stop, huh?" Isahaya asked.

Akira took off his shoes, hooked his heels on the seat, and hugged his knees.

"Or did something happen that made you want to be alone?" Isahaya’s fingers trembled slightly.

"If something’s bothering you, why don’t you talk to me about it? I might not be able to solve it for you, but just saying it out loud might make you feel better."

On his first day at the facility, Akira had thought Isahaya was a kind person. But he soon realized that Isahaya was kind to everyone, not just him, and that his kindness was equally distributed among all the children. Eventually, Akira began to see him as a celebrity on TV—someone everyone watched, but who didn’t belong to anyone. He was close by, yet distant.

Akira stared intently at the brake lights of the car in front of them. He didn’t want to go back to the facility. The place that was supposed to be temporary now felt like a prison.

No, no, no. The thought of going back filled him with overwhelming dread, coursing through his body until it spilled out of his mouth.

"I don’t want to go back."

The car stopped at a red light.

"Is there somewhere you want to go?" Isahaya asked, still looking straight ahead.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Ever since Akira said, "I don’t want to go back," the car had kept driving. He didn’t know where they were headed.

Isahaya pressed a switch on the front panel, and music started playing. The lyrics weren’t in Japanese.

"Would you have preferred the radio?"

"Anything’s fine."

The singer’s voice was a bit raspy, but it resonated sweetly.

"This is a cassette I bought when I studied abroad in America."

America… a foreign country. The very sound of it seemed like a world up in the clouds.

"America was interesting. It made me realize how many different ways there are to see the world."

After listening to about four songs, the car stopped along a levee. Isahaya stepped out first. Akira felt lonely sitting in the car by himself, so he opened the door on the passenger side. Stepping outside, he could hear the sound of waves crashing—shhh, shhh. The moon was bright, and the surroundings were faintly visible. As he descended the stone steps, he reached the beach in no time.

Isahaya kicked off his shoes and ran down to the shoreline.

"Come on, Akira!"

The dark figure turned and called out to him. Slowly, Akira took off his shoes and placed them neatly beside Isahaya’s, then made his way toward the figure. The soles of his feet felt chilled.

"It’s been ages since I’ve been to the sea. I used to surf a lot when I was in college. I think my board’s still in storage, though it’s probably unusable now."

Isahaya’s feet danced lightly across the sand.

"Ever since my father died and I took over the facility, I haven’t had a day off. But I was prepared for that," he said, stretching with his hands clasped together above his head.

"The sound of the waves and the breeze feel nice."

Isahaya turned back to face Akira.

"Don’t you feel like running on the beach? The sand feels good under your feet."

Akira’s feet remained buried in the sand, unmoving. Suddenly, his arm was grabbed, and he was pulled along to the water’s edge. The cold, wet sand sent a shiver up his spine.

The cuffs of his pants were about to get soaked, so he quickly rolled them up. As he did, a wave surged in. He tried to back away, stooping awkwardly, but his foot caught in the sand, and he fell hard onto his backside. The wave, as if waiting for him, crashed in, soaking his waist. The water was so cold that a startled yelp escaped his lips.

"What are you doing?" Isahaya laughed. Somehow, it all struck Akira as funny too, and he let out a small chuckle.

"Come on, get up."

Isahaya pulled him up by the arm. As Akira stood still, the cold water lapped at his feet, pulling the sand away bit by bit with each retreating wave.

"The ocean’s amazing, isn’t it? It’s connected to the entire world beyond."

Isahaya pointed ahead, but all Akira could see was an endless, flat black expanse, blending with the sky, with only the sound of waves crashing—shhh, shhh.

"I envy you, Akira."

Isahaya spoke quietly.

"...Why?"

"Because you’re only thirteen. You can become anything. You still have hope."

"Even though I’m in a facility?"

Isahaya took Akira’s wrist and turned his hand palm up.

"Hope is in your hands. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a facility."

Akira couldn’t see anything in his palm. He stared at it, thinking there was nothing there—until tears started welling up.

"What’s wrong, Akira?"

He shook his head violently.

"I’m all alone."

His lips trembled.

"No one’s ever going to come for me again."

He knew it. He had a sense of it all along. But saying it out loud made it feel like everything was really over.

"You’re not alone. You have me and Tokura-san, who’s like a mother to you."

"No, no, no!"

As he denied it, Isahaya pulled him in close, holding him tightly. Akira could smell the faint scent of cigarettes from the director’s polo shirt.

"It’s true that Tokura-san and I aren’t your parents. But we can still do things parents would."

The sand beneath his feet shifted, and Akira clung to Isahaya’s chest.

"Were you feeling lonely, Akira? You could’ve just told me."

Isahaya patted his head. That gesture reminded him of his aunt, and he wanted more of it, so he clung even tighter.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Akira took off his wet pants, borrowed Isahaya’s jacket, and wrapped it around his waist before getting into the passenger seat. Unable to resist, Isahaya asked, "Mind if I smoke?" and then lit a cigarette as he drove. The breeze blowing in made Akira’s bangs sway, and the cigarette smoke drifted out the side window. The smell of the sea was gone.

A single-story house with a large yard. The faces of his aunt, uncle, and Satoshi. Akira mentally packed away the seven years he had lived there into a box of memories, storing away both the kind and painful ones, everything. He wouldn't look at them again.

If he didn’t, living at the facility would become unbearable.

In the end, what did his aunt really think of him? The aunt he knew would never have told such a lie. So who was that person who didn’t say anything when he was being beaten, who blamed it all on him?

The one thing he was certain of was that he had been betrayed by his aunt at that moment. No matter how kind she was or how much he cared about her, he had been betrayed.

Who could he trust now? Or maybe all adults lied. Was it wrong to trust anyone?

"...Why do adults lie?" he asked, almost to himself.

"Hmm? Are you talking about me?" Isahaya glanced back at him.

"No."

"Did someone lie to you?" Isahaya asked. Akira didn’t answer. Isahaya slowly pressed the cigarette into the ashtray.

"Adults lie because they have so many important things to protect. They have to protect others, and they have to protect themselves too."

Akira looked at Isahaya’s face.

"...What about people who lie to deceive others and take their money?"

Isahaya laughed lightly. "That’s not lying; that’s 'deceiving.' It’s different."

Even if he didn’t fully understand the difference, the idea that lies could be used to protect oneself somehow made sense to him.

The music continued to play, the same raspy-voiced woman as before. Occasionally, Isahaya hummed along softly. Akira couldn’t remember what his father’s voice sounded like anymore. But maybe, just maybe, it had been a little like Isahaya’s.

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