Innocent World: Chapter 2

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After exiting the subway station and walking left for about three minutes, Yamamura spotted a budget hotel aimed at businessmen. His cousin had been staying there for the past three days.

The day after Yamamura met with Arisawa, his uncle’s house had burned to the ground. Fortunately, the fire hadn’t spread to the neighboring homes.

It was around 11 p.m. when Arisawa called. As Yamamura answered the phone, he clenched his right fist tightly. If my cousin dies in the fire, the inheritance might come directly to me without the hassle of taking care of him. He suppressed his excitement and calmly asked, “Is he okay?”

“Hirokuni-san is fine,” came the response, crushing Yamamura’s hopes. Apparently, the fire had started when Hirokuni was making a bonfire in the yard, and it had spread to the house. Given Hirokuni’s unique circumstances, Arisawa had left his business card with the neighbors, asking them to contact him in case anything happened. Thanks to that, the fire department had notified him right after the call came in.

“I'm really glad he’s safe,” Yamamura said, though the words were hollow. In his mind, he cursed his luck. While Arisawa handled everything related to the fire, Yamamura made a token gesture of offering to help. “Is there anything I can assist with?” he asked out of politeness. “No, it’s fine,” Arisawa reassured him. “I just wanted to let you know, as it might be in the papers, and I didn’t want you to be caught off guard.” Yamamura felt relieved.

In the hotel lounge, Arisawa was already there, waiting for him. Yamamura arrived about fifteen minutes late, but aside from sending a quick email, he hadn’t hurried at all.

“Sorry for being late. I got held up by a work call just as I was about to leave...” Yamamura lied, of course.

“No problem. Hirokuni-san isn’t the type to worry about time. Shall we go?”

As they walked, with Yamamura trailing two steps behind, he stifled a small yawn. He had napped on the train but was still sleepy. The real reason for his tardiness was that he had overslept.

“At first, I thought it might be better for you to meet him without any preconceived notions, but now I think it would be helpful to give you a bit of a heads-up. Otherwise, you might find the meeting confusing.”

Arisawa paused in front of the elevator.

“Hirokuni-san doesn’t understand common Japanese customs or values. I mentioned this before, but it affects every aspect of his life—how he dresses, eats, and lives. This might be harder to deal with than the language barrier. Professor Sakaki tried to teach him Japanese customs, but Hirokuni refused to accept anything that didn’t suit him.”

The elevator doors opened.

“Is that to say he’s… spoiled?” Yamamura asked.

“Well, it’s not quite that simple.”

Arisawa stepped inside and pressed the button for their floor. Yamamura found himself thinking that dealing with a spoiled man would be a pain, but quickly decided it didn’t matter. After all, this wouldn’t be a long-term relationship. As long as his cousin didn’t interfere with his plans, Yamamura didn’t care about his personality.

They exited on the fifth floor and walked down the hall. It was just after 10 a.m., and the checkout time seemed to be approaching, as cleaning carts lined the walls and several room doors were open.

When they reached room 511, they knocked, but there was no response. Arisawa fished around in his suit pocket and pulled out what looked like a hotel key.

“He’s in the room, right?” Yamamura asked, puzzled. Why use the key when they could just have him open the door?

With a wry smile, Arisawa explained, “Hirokuni-san doesn’t respond when someone knocks. And he won’t open the door, either.”

“What?”

“It’s not out of malice, I assure you,” Arisawa added.

"They simply don’t have that custom. While they do have a tradition of hosting guests, they don’t follow the typical social greetings of Japanese people, like saying ‘hello’ when you meet and ‘goodbye’ when you part. When I knock on the door, it’s more of a signal to avoid startling Hirokuni-san by entering suddenly," Arisawa explained.

The door opened, and Arisawa entered first. The room was small, about six tatami mats in size, with just a bed, a TV, and a table—a typical business hotel setup. Yamamura’s cousin stood there, alone, next to the bed.

Yamamura had imagined, based on movies and books, that his cousin might be wearing a feathered headdress or have body paint, but there was nothing of the sort. Hirokuni was shirtless, wearing only khaki-colored work pants. He stood about 170 centimeters (roughly 5’6’’) tall, shorter than Yamamura. His skin was dark, and though slim, his body was well-toned with lean muscles. His face was unmistakably Japanese, which made Yamamura oddly impressed by the purity of his native genes. His features were sharp, with intense eyes that exuded a kind of inner strength, yet his face remained expressionless. His hair was short, like a buzz cut, a little longer than what you’d see on a high school baseball player, but it suited him. Actually, he looked quite good with it.

“This is Sakaki Hirokuni,” Arisawa introduced him.

Even after the introduction, Yamamura found himself speechless. He didn’t know how to address his cousin.

“Him,” Arisawa said, pointing at Yamamura while speaking to Hirokuni. Then he pointed at Hirokuni. “You,” he said. Finally, he gestured between them. “Relative.”

Hirokuni narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Re-la-tive,” Arisawa repeated slowly. At last, Hirokuni’s eyes widened in recognition.

“I think he understands that I’m his relative now,” Yamamura said.

“Probably,” Arisawa replied.

Yamamura stepped forward cautiously. “Hello, I am Yamamura Hitoshi,” he said, mimicking Arisawa’s style, pausing between words and pointing to himself as he introduced his name.

“From now on, I will help you with your life.”

Hirokuni stared at him, but his expression didn’t change, and he didn’t say a word. Yamamura could feel the forced smile on his face gradually becoming stiff. Come on, say something—anything—like ‘yes’ or ‘uh-huh,’ he cursed internally.

Finally, defeated by the silence, Yamamura turned to Arisawa for help.

“So… how much Japanese does he understand?” he asked.

“I’m not entirely sure myself,” Arisawa admitted. “Professor Sakaki had been using an Indigenous interpreter to help translate Hirokuni’s language into Japanese while he was hospitalized. Professor Sakaki even created a kind of dictionary with translations, but unfortunately, the printed-out data, along with Professor Sakaki’s computer that had the backup, were lost in the fire. I tried to recreate some of it, but all I could remember were simple words like ‘eat,’ ‘sleep,’ ‘cold,’ and ‘hot,’ which makes communication quite challenging. Professor Sakaki always said that Indigenous Peoples in general tend to have a limited vocabulary, not just Hirokuni. It even took a lot of time, with gestures and all, to explain that he needed to move into this temporary hotel after the house burned down.”

Arisawa sighed deeply.

“Hirokuni-san agreed to stay in Japan, but after Professor Sakaki passed away, he began insisting he wanted to return to the place where he had lived. So, I told him that once he learned Japanese, found a job, and saved up enough money for a plane ticket, he could return. For now, he seems satisfied with that, but he hasn’t been making much progress with the language. If it’s something tangible, I can write it down and show him, but adjectives, for instance, are very difficult.”

“When you say write it down, do you mean you communicate in writing with the language he speaks?”

“No, not in writing. I draw pictures—like bananas or airplanes. It’s not just Hirokuni’s tribe; most Indigenous Peoples don’t have a written language.”

“They… don’t have writing?” Yamamura asked, incredulous.

“That’s right. They have no system for recording anything in writing. Important information is passed down orally, from person to person—”

At that moment, a ringtone interrupted their conversation. Arisawa pulled out his phone and, upon seeing the number, frowned.

“I need to step out for a moment. My apologies,” he said, heading into the hallway to take the call.

Now, Yamamura and Hirokuni were left alone in the room. Hirokuni’s gaze was fixed intently on Yamamura. Though his eyes didn’t convey anger or irritation, there was a bold, unreserved directness to his stare, bordering on rudeness.

Being left alone with this guy... Yamamura looked up at the ceiling. He couldn’t even hold a proper conversation with Hirokuni, and honestly, he didn’t really have anything he wanted to say anyway. Suddenly, he felt the urge to smoke. But there wasn’t an ashtray.

Yamamura walked over to the small desk in the room. As soon as he moved, Hirokuni leaped onto the bed, scrambling toward the headboard. He moved like a cat on high alert, quick and tense. His expression was sharp, and it almost seemed like he was afraid of Yamamura.

Yamamura sat down in the chair, pulled the ashtray toward him, and lit a cigarette. In the silence, he smoked in peace, not even bothering to try talking to someone who didn’t understand him. His eyes drifted to the discarded shirt on the bed. It was May, but not warm enough to be shirtless. Then again, who cares if he’s wearing clothes or not? Yamamura thought indifferently.

Even after finishing his cigarette, Arisawa hadn’t returned. So Yamamura lit a second one. Hirokuni remained standing on the bed, sniffing the air as though trying to catch the scent of something. He’s probably not used to the smell of cigarettes, Yamamura thought. Living in nature, he might find the smell strange.

As Yamamura watched Hirokuni repeatedly sniffing, he began to wonder. Does he want to try smoking?

"Do you want one?" Yamamura asked, pointing at his cigarette when he noticed Hirokuni watching him. There was no response. He couldn’t tell if Hirokuni didn’t understand the word “want” or if he simply didn’t want the cigarette. As a test, Yamamura pulled another cigarette from the pack, lit it, and extended his arm, offering it to Hirokuni.

Hirokuni looked back and forth between the cigarette and Yamamura, but he didn’t move closer. The situation felt familiar to Yamamura. When he was in elementary school, he once tried feeding a stray dog he had found with a piece of bread from his school lunch. The dog had an injured hind leg and limped when it walked. Even as a child, Yamamura had felt sorry for it, so he threw the bread toward it. The dog stared at the bread but didn’t approach, nor did it run away. Yamamura turned his back on the dog and walked to the corner of the street. When he looked back, the dog was limping toward the bread, eagerly biting into it.

Yamamura placed the lit cigarette in the ashtray and stood up. He walked toward the unit bathroom by the door and watched from a distance. Just like the stray dog, Hirokuni began to move. He walked across the bed, inching closer to the ashtray. Tilting his head from side to side, he peered into it. After examining the cigarette for a while, Hirokuni hesitantly picked it up. He put it in his mouth and inhaled. Yamamura expected him to cough, but surprisingly, he smoked it smoothly. He narrowed his eyes as he exhaled, looking oddly content with the act of smoking.

Hirokuni, cigarette still in his mouth, sat down on the bed. Ash from the cigarette, now white and brittle, began to fall onto the bedspread. At that moment, the image of Hirokuni burning down his uncle’s house with a fire flashed vividly in Yamamura’s mind.

“Hey, use the ashtray!” Yamamura barked.

Hirokuni glanced at him but didn’t reply. He kept smoking, letting the ash fall wherever it landed. Yamamura slowly approached him. Hirokuni, still smoking, stared back at him without flinching this time. It seemed like the cigarette had eased his wariness.

Yamamura grabbed the ashtray from the desk and held it out in front of Hirokuni.

“Put the ash and the cigarette butt in this.”

There was no response.

“Here. Ash. Butt. Put them here,” Yamamura said, pointing first at Hirokuni’s cigarette, then at the ashtray. He wasn’t sure if Hirokuni understood, but he was already fed up with trying to explain. He dropped the ashtray onto the bed in front of Hirokuni with a thud. Hirokuni stared into it, sniffed it, and then, finally, picked it up. But before Yamamura could sigh in relief, Hirokuni flipped it upside down, scattering the ashes and cigarette butts all over the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yamamura shouted.

Hirokuni flinched, dropping the ashtray as he leapt back toward the head of the bed. The cigarette he had been smoking fell from his mouth. Panicking, Yamamura hurriedly picked up the cigarette from the carpet and stubbed it out in the overturned ashtray. This guy’s dangerous...

The sound of the door opening came from behind. Arisawa had returned after finishing his phone call.

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

Noticing the tension in the room, he asked, "Is everything alright?" Yamamura exaggeratedly shrugged his shoulders.

“Hirokuni-san seemed interested in smoking, so I gave him one of mine. But he got ash all over the bed. I tried to explain how to use the ashtray, but he didn’t seem to understand. It’s tough not being able to communicate at all,” Yamamura said, lowering his eyes with a troubled expression. After only a brief interaction, Yamamura was already starting to feel fed up with Hirokuni.

“It’s one thing if he were a child, but living in a country with completely different language and customs as an adult must be incredibly difficult. I don’t mean to disrespect my uncle, but maybe Hirokuni would be better off going back to Brazil. I could be his legal guardian and help support him while he lives there,” Yamamura suggested.

His plan was simple: send the troublesome cousin back to the jungle and take control of his inheritance, under the guise of managing his finances. Hirokuni would be happy to return to the jungle, and Yamamura would be happy with the money. Everyone would be satisfied.

“I considered sending Hirokuni back to Brazil for quite a while,” Arisawa admitted. “But sooner or later, the monetary economy will permeate the Indigenous communities. Once they start handling money, they’ll need to be able to do basic calculations. But in the tribe where Hirokuni lived, they only have numbers from one to five.”

“Huh?” Yamamura blurted out, unable to hide his disbelief.

“Numbers from one to five? You’re joking, right? What do they do if it’s more than five?”

“Anything greater than five is just ‘a lot.’”

In a world where even preschoolers could count to ten, this was hard to believe. A society where numbers stopped at five? Yamamura couldn’t even begin to imagine what that kind of life was like.

“They only count to five. There’s no subtraction, addition, or multiplication. The Indigenous Peoples who have been integrated into modern society attend school and learn these things, but ancestral tribes like the one Hirokuni came from don’t go to school. So, most of them only know numbers up to five. When I told Hirokuni he could return to Brazil once he learned the language and saved up enough money, it wasn’t just to placate him—I genuinely want him to be able to do that. If he can learn the language, understand basic math, and work in Japan, he’ll be able to return to Brazil and be alright.”

Without knowing basic arithmetic, handling money would be impossible. And if his concept of numbers stopped at five, Yamamura couldn’t even imagine where to begin. This was a nightmare.

“I want Hirokuni to do his best here in Japan,” Arisawa continued. “Everyone has their own opinions, but I believe that rather than Hirokuni living ten years of happiness now and then struggling for the rest of his life, it’s better for him to work hard while he’s young. That way, he can learn the language, math, and how to live independently, ensuring he can live comfortably in the future.”

It was now clear to Yamamura that Arisawa had no intention of sending Hirokuni back to Brazil. If Yamamura wanted the inheritance, he’d have to involve himself with this troublesome man, at least to some extent.

“I realize now that I didn’t fully understand Hirokuni-san’s situation,” Yamamura said, meeting Arisawa’s gaze directly. “It was short-sighted of me to suggest sending him back. At first, he was wary and scared of me, but after I gave him a cigarette, he started to warm up a bit. If I’m patient with him, I’m sure he’ll get used to things over time.”

To solidify his trustworthiness, Yamamura smiled warmly, projecting an air of friendliness and good intentions.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

In the tearoom of the hotel, Arisawa discussed the future with Yamamura. Ideally, Hirokuni should have been there too, but Arisawa had said, "I don't think he can sit still and quietly," so they'd left him in the room. Since Hirokuni couldn’t understand Japanese anyway, his presence or absence made no difference.

Yamamura had assumed he would receive half of the inheritance upfront and manage the other half, which was Hirokuni’s share, as his caretaker. However, the conditions Arisawa presented betrayed Yamamura’s expectations.

"Inheritance paid monthly?" he asked reflexively.

"Yes. Currently, the total inheritance left by the professor, excluding real estate, is approximately 30 million yen. The amount allocated to you, Yamamura-san, is half of that, or 15 million yen. This sum will be divided over ten years, with around 120,000 yen paid to you monthly. I believe that within ten years, Hirokuni-san will become accustomed to life in Japan and will be working. I also plan for his monthly living expenses to be 120,000 yen. Additionally, my consulting fees will be paid using the interest from the fixed deposit, and I will send you a statement each year. Since interest rates fluctuate, if the interest can no longer cover my fees, I will deduct the necessary amount from the remaining inheritance. Conversely, if the interest is sufficient, the excess will be set aside for savings."

Yamamura had thought he would receive a lump sum of 15 million yen, but instead, he would be getting monthly payments for ten years. It was absurd. For 120,000 yen a month, he would be stuck taking care of that burden for a decade.

"Why does it have to be monthly? Even the bank transfer fees aren’t free, and receiving it all at once would be less troublesome, wouldn’t it?"

Still, he didn’t outright refuse.

"Well, yes, it does require some effort, but this was the professor’s wish. There’s a risk of overspending if the inheritance is given all at once. Since Hirokuni-san won’t have any savings unless he starts working, we absolutely want to avoid unnecessary expenses. The professor also worried that, if by some chance the caretaker passed away early or refused to continue the responsibility, we’d need to ensure enough funds remain to pay the next caretaker. I believe that’s why the professor opted for monthly payments."

Given the son, it wasn’t surprising the uncle had been worried, but for Yamamura, it was the worst-case scenario. Without receiving the lump sum, he couldn’t just grab the money and disappear as he’d initially planned.

No, there was still a way—he could request an advance. If he waited for a month or two, it would seem too obvious, so he would care for Hirokuni for about six months to build up some credibility, then make his move. He could say something like a business venture with a university senior was failing, and he needed the money. The excuse didn’t really matter as long as it sounded plausible. Since Arisawa was having him take care of Hirokuni, he wouldn’t be able to outright refuse.

"Still, 120,000 yen a month for living expenses... It’s not too little, but honestly, it’s not much either," Yamamura remarked.

Arisawa sighed, staring at the file.

"That's true. Even if we were to rebuild the house, for the time being, he’d be living in an apartment. Rent, food, utilities... When you add it all up, there’s not much wiggle room. This month, we also have to pay the deposit and key money, so expenses are a bit steep. I hope Hirokuni-san starts working soon, but he’s not picking up Japanese very well."

"If he’s not studying Japanese or working, what exactly does Hirokuni-san do all day?"

For once, Arisawa seemed to be deep in thought.

"I have my job, so I’m not with Hirokuni-san all day. Right now, I deliver groceries twice a week at most. On my days off, I go to teach him Japanese, but... let’s see, he mostly naps during the day."

"Naps?"

"Sometimes he makes things like arrows from scrap materials. He speaks when necessary, but unless prompted, Hirokuni-san doesn’t initiate conversation."

It seemed that Hirokuni was quiet at home, doing nothing more than lounging around. He barely spoke the language and didn’t engage much, making him seem like a pet cat or dog.

Arisawa looked up at Yamamura with an upward glance.

"This is just a suggestion from me, but Hirokuni-san hardly understands Japanese common sense or daily customs. At this rate, even if he learns the language, I don't think he'll be able to work within Japanese society. So... if Yamamura-san is willing, could you live with Hirokuni-san, at least while the house is being rebuilt? I believe it would be faster for him to learn by seeing and experiencing rather than just through words."

"Huh... that’s..."

"If your current place is too small, feel free to move to a larger one. We’ll cover the rent and moving expenses."

"W-wait a second. I work, you know. It's impossible for me to look after him all day."

"Rather than taking care of him, think of it as showing him an example. If the language barrier is a problem, demonstrating things would probably help him understand faster."

Living with someone like that? No way. But... but wait a minute, Yamamura reconsidered. If he didn’t take Hirokuni in, he’d only get his 120,000 yen share each month. But if he did take him in, he'd receive an additional 120,000 yen for Hirokuni's living expenses, doubling his income to 240,000 yen. If he let Hirokuni stay with him instead of renting a new apartment, utilities wouldn't rise too much, and even if he budgeted 40,000 yen for food, he’d still be left with 80,000 yen. Adding that to his own share of 120,000 yen, he’d have a full 200,000 yen coming in.

During the day, he’d be at work and not in the apartment. He came home late, just to sleep. Even if someone else was in the apartment, as long as they weren’t talkative, it wouldn’t be that annoying. And most importantly, it meant 200,000 yen.

"All right."

At the sound of Yamamura's voice, Arisawa looked up.

"You're right. Living together would probably be better for helping him pick up daily habits than visiting him every day from afar. But if it’s okay, rather than moving to a new place right away, since I'm busy with work and can't spare much time, how about having Hirokuni-kun stay with me in my current apartment for a while, even if it's a bit cramped?"

"That would be more than I could ask for!"

Yamamura didn’t miss the joy that spread across Arisawa’s face.

"I’ll continue to pay the rent as I have been, so if Hirokuni-san could just split the cost of food and utilities, that would be enough. With the money saved, perhaps we could hire a tutor or send him to a language school."

He didn’t let slip a word about pocketing the leftover living expenses. This was the critical point.

"Well, we’re already in the same boat. He’s my only relative, after all, so I hope we can get along."

"Thank you so much."

The relief in Arisawa’s eyes was unmistakable.

"To be honest, when I first contacted you, Yamamura-san, I didn’t expect you’d take Hirokuni-san under your care like this. The conditions are strict, and you’re young, so I thought you’d turn it down right away when you heard about having to look after someone else. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to mention Hirokuni-san in our first phone call. But now that you’ve agreed to even live together, I’m truly grateful."

...That same day, Yamamura took Hirokuni back to his apartment. The sooner he took him in, the sooner the cash would start rolling in. There was still a week until payday, but his wallet was running dangerously low, and the deadline for his loan repayment was fast approaching.

Arisawa informed Hirokuni that he would be "going to live in a new home with a relative." He also handed him a copied list of Japanese phrases that Hirokuni could understand. As far as Yamamura was concerned, as long as Hirokuni stayed quiet at home, that was all he needed—he didn’t expect anything more. However, when Arisawa mentioned, "He can handle going to the toilet on his own," Yamamura was honestly taken aback. He had just assumed that such things would be second nature.

"He only takes baths when he feels like it. He doesn’t like the hot water, so he just pours cold water over himself—what you’d call a quick rinse. I’ve told him to wear clothes when going outside, but inside, he quickly strips off his shirt. He used to cook his own meals if I provided the ingredients—boiling or grilling them as needed—but after the fire incident, I think it’s best not to let him use any fire for a while."

Yamamura parted ways with Arisawa in front of the hotel. "Even though you’re taking Hirokuni-san in, don’t you need to clean up your place or something? I can help out," Arisawa had offered. But Yamamura politely declined, saying, "I don’t have much stuff lying around, and with just two men, it’ll be done in no time." If Arisawa came to help, he would not only expose his filthy, cluttered one-room apartment, but there was a chance Arisawa would stumble upon the pamphlets from his shady door-to-door sales job, which were scattered about. Then his borderline scam job might be discovered.

When they stepped outside the hotel, it was unnervingly dim, despite it still being the middle of the day. The sky had been cloudy since morning, but it hadn’t been so thick with gray clouds earlier. It looked like it would start raining soon.

Yamamura got into the taxi first, followed by Hirokuni. Arisawa stood outside, watching them until the taxi disappeared from view. Yamamura, slouched deep into the seat, dozed off, only to be awakened by the driver's drawn-out muttering, "Aah... aah..." As expected, it had started raining while they were in the taxi.

Hirokuni turned his face toward the window, staring intently at the increasingly wet, nondescript scenery outside.

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