Chapter 1 River's End - part 3

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“Tokame, hey!”

Ninomiya grabbed Tokame’s head with both hands and shook him awake. Begrudgingly, Tokame raised his head.

“We’ve gotta go to the next class.”

Ninomiya gave him a light pat on the back. Tokame took out his textbook from his desk and slowly stood up.

“You’ll need a calculator. Did you bring it?”

…He’d forgotten. He reached back into his desk, grabbed it, shoved it into his pocket, and followed Ninomiya at a leisurely pace. The bell rang just as they entered the special classroom.

Spring had come, and Tokame had successfully moved up to his second year. It had been a close call, but Bald Tora had helped pull him through with extra tutoring. The classes were reshuffled, but he ended up with Ninomiya again. Ninomiya was separated from most of his old friends; only Shibazaki remained in the same class, but he seemed absorbed in his new passion for the light music club, so they didn’t hang out as much.

Instead, Ninomiya spent more time with Tokame. True to his elementary school reputation as the “goldfish feeder,” Ninomiya continued bringing bread every day, and the two had gotten into the habit of eating lunch together on the rooftop. Normally, Ninomiya bought bread from the school store, but today, he had brought a bento since his mother was home for a change.

“I keep telling her I don’t like this stuff,” he grumbled, holding up a cherry tomato from the bento lid and offering it to Tokame, who wordlessly took care of it.

“By the way, I went to karaoke with Saito and the guys the other day, and they were saying how you scare them. They couldn’t believe I could talk to you like this.”

Munching on his bento, Ninomiya continued chatting.

“You do kinda look scary, though. Your eyes are intense, and when you do talk, it’s blunt. And if you get annoyed, you completely ignore people. I’ve gotten used to it, but I can see why they wouldn’t be.”

Because he kept talking while eating, Ninomiya’s bento didn’t seem to get any smaller. By the time he finally finished and closed the lid, Tokame had already been done for a while and was lying down with his eyes closed. The warm weather made it the perfect season for a nap.

Tokame felt a weight settle on his thigh. He cracked one eye open and saw Ninomiya lying there, using his leg as a pillow. Annoyed, he shifted his thigh to try and shake him off, but Ninomiya clung on, determined not to slide off. Tokame found his effort amusing and let out a small chuckle.

Deciding to let him stay, Tokame closed his eyes again. Ninomiya’s hand, still clutching his thigh, lingered even after he stopped shifting. Being acutely aware of the touch, Tokame felt a shiver run down his spine, a strange prickling sensation focused only where they were connected.

Eventually, Ninomiya’s grip relaxed and his hand slipped away, as though he had settled down.

“Hey… wanna come over to my place today?” Ninomiya murmured, gazing up at the sky.

“I’ve got work.”

“Come over after that, then. My mom’s not home, it’s Saturday tomorrow, so you could stay over.”

“Sounds like a hassle.”

“You didn’t have to say it like that…”

Their usual banter. But Tokame noticed a slight drop in Ninomiya’s tone at the end, just enough to leave him wondering.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

“Tokame?”

His name was suddenly called. Looking up, he saw Shibazaki, one of Ninomiya’s close friends, perched on his moped. Shibazaki flipped up his helmet visor. Dressed in a khaki jacket and jeans, he was in casual clothes, so Tokame hadn’t recognized him at first. Slung across his back was a black case that was unmistakably for a guitar.

“How long have you been working at this gas station?” Shibazaki asked.

Without answering, Tokame simply stated, “Fifteen hundred yen,” as the amount owed. Shibazaki fumbled in his wallet, grumbling, “When someone asks you something, you could at least answer.”

“If I chat on the job, they’ll cut my pay.”

“Is that so,” Shibazaki muttered, clicking his tongue.

“No change on me. Doesn’t this place offer student discounts or anything?”

“Of course not.”

Shibazaki handed him two thousand yen. Tokame rang it up, took the change and receipt, then returned to the pump, noticing his manager watching TV in the office as he passed.

“Hey, you’ve been hanging out with Miya a lot lately, right?”

Pocketing his change, Shibazaki continued talking, calling Ninomiya by a nickname, which threw Tokame for a second.

“Kind of a weird combo, you know. Miya’s a good guy, but he talks way too much. Sometimes he’s honestly a pain in the ass.”

Even though Tokame thought Ninomiya was loud himself, hearing someone else say it annoyed him.

“Maybe it balances out, though—Miya, who talks too much, and you, who hardly talk at all. …Speaking of Miya, today’s his birthday.”

Tokame had been watching a car with its blinker on in the left lane but couldn’t help turning back at that.

“He was bragging about it—how his birthday, 4-21, is divisible all the way down from the top. Kinda dumb, huh?”

Shibazaki revved his engine unnecessarily before speeding off. The car from the left lane finally pulled in, and Tokame guided it to the stop line.

Performing his tasks with machine-like repetition, Tokame couldn’t shake the lunchtime conversation he’d had with Ninomiya from his mind. Even as more customers came and went, his thoughts kept drifting back to it, and he found himself unusually distracted.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

“Tokame? What brings you here?”

Ninomiya blinked in surprise when he opened the front door.

“I had some free time.”

“Free time? You said it was a hassle earlier today. Well, whatever. Come on in. You’re just getting off work?”

“I went home first.”

Just like the first time he visited, Ninomiya’s house was empty since his mom was working the night shift.

“I was in the middle of a game. Mind if I finish this level?”

Tokame watched Ninomiya’s thin back as he continued his game. Watching the characters on the screen wasn’t interesting, so Tokame lay down on the bed and stifled a yawn. Without looking away from the screen, Ninomiya asked, “Wanna try it?”

“No.”

Besides, he didn’t even know how to play.

“You can read one of those comics over there if you want.”

Tokame wasn’t interested in that either. After about ten minutes, Ninomiya finally stopped playing.

“Want something to eat?”

Tokame nodded. He expected some bread or maybe rice balls, but instead, Ninomiya started changing out of his pajamas and into jeans and a shirt. “Let’s hit the convenience store,” he suggested.

“I don’t have any money.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll buy.”

They stepped outside just after midnight. Since the store was close, they walked instead of taking bikes.

“You really don’t play video games at all, huh?”

Tokame nodded, covering another yawn.

“Then how about a movie? I have a rental coupon that’s good through this week. It’s only valid for older titles, but is there anything you want to see?”

A movie suddenly came to mind.

“River’s End.”

“What’s that, the title?”

“Probably.”

“It’s not a horror movie, right? I’m no good with that stuff.”

“It’s not.”

“Alright, let’s go check it out.”

They headed to the video rental store first. It was Tokame’s first time in one, and he found the atmosphere oddly interesting. He didn’t have much to go on except that River’s End wasn’t a horror film, so it took a while to find. Although he’d only thought of it on a whim, the longer he couldn’t find it, the more he wanted to see it.

After scanning the shelves, he finally spotted River’s End in the “Classic Foreign Films” section. Ninomiya, looking at the cover, remarked, “This looks complicated,” but rented it anyway.

On the way back, they stopped by the convenience store. Ninomiya handed Tokame a shopping basket, tossing in a few snacks and four beers from the alcohol section.

Handing Tokame his wallet, Ninomiya whispered, “You’ve got that older look, so you’ll totally pass.”

“If the clerk says anything, just say you’re buying it for your dad. And if they don’t let you, just leave it.”

Ninomiya went outside while Tokame brought the basket to the register. The young college-aged clerk barely glanced at him before ringing up the beers without a word.

When Tokame stepped outside with the bag, Ninomiya approached eagerly. “How’d it go?” he asked, grinning when he saw the contents.

By the time they got back to Ninomiya’s apartment, it was almost two in the morning. Tokame was starting to feel sleepy, but Ninomiya seemed unusually energetic. He opened several snack bags at once and insisted they toast with the beers. Tokame had seen his father drink before, but it was his first time trying alcohol himself. The bitter taste and carbonation fizzled in his throat. Ninomiya stuck out his tongue, grimacing.

“Have you ever had alcohol before?”

“No.”

Tokame took another sip, and Ninomiya leaned over to peer at him.

“Beer’s kinda gross, huh?”

“It’s gross, but drinkable.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ninomiya mumbled, nibbling on some snacks and taking small sips of his beer.

“Oh, right—the movie!”

Ninomiya turned on the VCR and started playing the film. From the synopsis they’d read at the rental shop, it seemed like a love story.

The setting was rural America, and the scenery was beautiful. The story followed a boy and girl who grew up as next-door neighbors, almost like siblings. They spent their days by the river, imagining what lay beyond. As they grew up and went off to college, their lives took different paths. Years later, they reunited, fell in love, and were set to marry. But on the night before the wedding, the man died in a tragic accident.

Watching beside him, Ninomiya seemed bored. Eventually, he asked, “Is this supposed to be interesting?”

“Be quiet.”

Ninomiya flopped down, yawned, and fidgeted around for a while before, in what felt like an attempt to annoy Tokame, he sprawled across Tokame’s thigh.

“You’re heavy.”

Even when Tokame shifted his leg, Ninomiya clung on, showing no signs of moving. With no other choice, and wanting to focus on the movie, he left him there.

The story unfolded with the woman standing atop a scenic cliff, having found a way to move on from her lost love. She released a handful of white sand, a memento from their travels abroad, into the wind over the sea. Tokame was startled—she was scattering sand, not ashes.

The sand drifted gracefully on the wind, dissolving into the air like it was part of the very sky. The shot was so beautiful that he held his breath, captivated by how perfectly it conveyed the moment. As he absorbed the final scenes, the credits began to roll.

“Hey, it’s over.”

No matter how much he nudged his leg, Ninomiya didn’t wake up, only muttering softly, lips moving faintly like a sleeping child. It was strange… Tokame tilted his head, noticing an empty beer can near Ninomiya’s head. Maybe he was drunk.

Resigned, Tokame pulled him onto the bed. He turned off the video player and tidied up the leftover snacks and empty cans. Despite saying he didn’t like the taste, Ninomiya had somehow finished two beers.

It was nearly 4:30 in the morning. Tokame had work at ten. Although he was still stirred by the movie’s afterglow, fatigue was taking over. He considered going home but realized that, given Ninomiya’s condition, locking up the house wasn’t an option.

He turned off the lights and nudged Ninomiya over to one side of the bed before slipping in beside him. There wasn’t much room, so lying on his back would mean falling off. Lying on his side, he held Ninomiya close from behind. Apart from his siblings, this was the first time Tokame had slept so close to someone. Ninomiya was warm, and there was a faint, sweet scent from his neck.

The body he was holding shifted, and when Tokame let go, Ninomiya turned over in the tight space. As they faced each other, Ninomiya drew closer in his sleep.

His steady breaths tickled Tokame’s chest, sending a flush of warmth through him. He found himself wanting to look at Ninomiya’s face, so he gently grasped his slender chin. Lifting it slightly, he saw Ninomiya’s eyes were peacefully closed, his expression completely relaxed. As Tokame’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see the softness of Ninomiya’s sleeping face.

Unable to resist, Tokame brushed his tongue over Ninomiya’s lips. When he didn’t wake, Tokame tried it again. Still no reaction—so he pressed his lips to Ninomiya’s.

A sweet, tingling sensation surged through him. He had always known this was why he tried to avoid being alone with Ninomiya outside of school.

Ninomiya’s hair was soft to the touch, and his back felt so delicate it seemed breakable. Tokame’s fingers were trembling with intensity, and his body had undeniably reacted, but even in that moment, all he did was hold Ninomiya and kiss him, unable to go any further.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The clatter of the front door woke him up. The room was bright. Ninomiya was curled up against him, breathing softly in his sleep. The clock read a little past 9:40.

Tokame sat up slowly. Having slept in his clothes, his shirt and pants were now terribly wrinkled. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touched his thumb lightly to Ninomiya’s partially open lips, causing Ninomiya’s breath to change direction with a soft puff. Startled, Tokame quickly withdrew his hand.

He left the room and walked down the hallway. From the kitchen came the sound of things clinking and clattering. Peering in, he saw a woman standing at the sink, taking bread, milk, and an egg carton out of a white plastic bag. She had short hair like Koharu and a thin frame.

The woman turned and let out a small gasp, her eyes widening in surprise. She was middle-aged, with a face that bore a strong resemblance to Ninomiya’s. Tokame instinctively took half a step back.

“Who are you?”

“Shunji Tokame.”

He gave his name. The woman murmured, “Could you be…?”

“You’re Hiroshi’s friend?”

Tokame nodded.

“Ninomiya’s still sleeping. I have to head to work now.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, brushing a strand of hair back from her face.

“So, you stayed the night?”

Ninomiya had reassured him it was “totally fine,” but staying over without permission might have been a bad move. He apologized, “Sorry about that.”

The woman laughed softly. “Staying over isn’t the problem. I was just startled to find a boy I didn’t know in the house.”

“Well… it was his birthday,” he explained.

The woman tilted her head.

“Yesterday—it was Ninomiya’s birthday.”

“Oh, that’s right. So, you were celebrating with him?”

Tokame glanced away. “Well… I’m heading out.”

“If you have time, would you like something to eat? All we’ve got is some bread and milk.”

“No… I’m fine. Sorry again for startling you.”

Tokame hurriedly left Ninomiya’s house, feeling a bit like he was making a quick escape.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The seemingly endless yawns during his gas station shift finally came to an end around 4:30. When Tokame arrived at his next job at the cleaning company, he found a sign on the office door reading, "Operations are canceled for today." He was taken aback. Behind him, people who had also seen the sign murmured, “They were dealing with some trouble yesterday.”

With unexpected free time on his hands, Tokame decided to visit his father in the hospital—something he hadn’t been able to do lately with both his weekday and weekend jobs keeping him too busy for visiting hours.

Seeing his father for the first time in a month, Tokame found him bound hand and foot, snoring as he slept. A nurse doing her rounds mentioned that he’d thrown a fit, demanding alcohol, and that they had to use a sedative to help him calm down enough to sleep.

Sleeping as he was, his father didn’t look to be in pain, nor was he shouting for a drink. He almost seemed at ease. But he seemed even thinner. Tokame sat and watched him for about fifteen minutes, but since his father showed no sign of waking up, he decided to leave.

Returning home, Tokame felt a pang of anxiety when he saw a black car parked along the wall. As he slid open the door, he nearly bumped into someone coming out, causing him to instinctively step back.

“Well, if it isn’t you,” said the man, squinting. Tokame recognized him immediately. It had been a while since he last saw Kawase, the debt collector. He was nearly fifty, with a shaved head and a rough, intimidating look, dressed in a somber black suit, red tie, and carrying a large animal-print handbag—a look that screamed yakuza.

“So, you’re Tokame’s eldest son. You’ve shot up, haven’t you?” Kawase greeted him with a familiarity that made Tokame’s skin crawl. Back when his father was in and out of the hospital, Kawase would even come to the cardboard shelters they’d set up in the park, demanding money. But lately, thanks to Koharu’s steady payments, they hadn’t seen him around.

“No need to glare like that,” Kawase sneered. “Your sister’s really working hard, you know.” He left with a grin. If he’d come all the way to their house, it probably meant a payment was overdue. Feeling uneasy, Tokame hurried into the living room, where he found Koharu sitting quietly at the low table, staring into space.

“He was here?”

“Oh… yeah.” Koharu ran a hand through her short hair roughly.

“Are you behind on payments?”

“I’m not. I couldn’t go to the office this month, so he came here instead.”

Koharu got up and murmured, “Let’s get dinner started.” Then she glanced over at him. “You’re back early today.”

“There was a problem with the cleaning job, so they canceled it. That place might be going under, which sucks because it paid pretty well.”

Koharu gave a bitter chuckle. “We sure don’t have much luck, do we?”

“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Tokame muttered.

She looked over her shoulder and shrugged. “I know my limits. If I collapse like Mom did, everything would fall apart.”

Tokame handed over all his earnings to Koharu, who handled their debt payments, household expenses, and everything else. He didn’t really know the specifics of the repayment plan or the exact state of things. If Koharu said they were okay, he trusted her. As she started on dinner, he joined in to help.

“I saw Dad today.”

“You went to the hospital? Did he say anything?”

“…Not really. He was sleeping the whole time.”

“I see.”

They hid little from each other, but he felt no need to mention that their father had thrown a fit and been tied down for demanding alcohol. Koharu, who was chopping green onions, turned to him suddenly. “Hey, if his doctor allows it, maybe we should bring Dad home for a night. While he’s still well enough, it’d be nice for him to come home at least once, don’t you think?”

Recalling his father’s angry shouts for alcohol, Tokame replied, “…Yeah, that’d be fine, I guess.”

Koharu’s face lit up. “I’m looking forward to it. It’s just been the three of us for so long. It’s peaceful without him yelling all the time, but honestly… it still feels like something’s missing.”

The rice cooker was empty, so Tokame started washing rice. As he rinsed the grains, he heard soft hiccups next to him. Koharu was chopping daikon radishes and sobbing quietly.

“What’re you crying about?”

“I’m not crying.”

“Don’t lie. You’re crying.”

Koharu tossed the knife onto the counter, covered her face with both hands, and began to sob loudly.

"Don't cry. I mean, why are you crying? Did I say something that upset you?"

Koharu clung to Tokame and wept. He held her close, resting his hand on her small, frail shoulders, waiting until her tears finally subsided. His shirtfront was soaked through with her crying, yet she kept going until there was nothing left. Eventually, Koharu took a deep breath, calmed down, and whispered, “You know, Shunji, you’re lucky.”

“You get to go to high school. You have friends. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“If things are really that tough on you, I’ll drop out and get a job.”

Koharu gave a weak smile. “It’s okay. You’re going to stay in school. You’ve got friends there, right? And I want you to go. I don’t want people to look at you and say, ‘Oh, a middle school dropout,’ not in this day and age.”

Now calm, Koharu rubbed her eyes forcefully.

“I’m your older sister. And with Dad the way he is, I have responsibilities. But… if anything ever happened to me, I’d be leaving things to you.”

Tokame gripped her shoulders.

“Are you… really okay?”

This was the first time he’d ever heard such shaky words from her. Koharu looked down.

“Of course it’s hard. We’re all eating barely enough to get by. I can hardly remember the last time I actually felt full.”

Tokame swallowed hard.

“I don’t… I don’t really understand much about money, but maybe… if we filed for bankruptcy or something, would it help us get rid of this debt?”

“Idiot,” Koharu muttered.

“If we did that, Kawase would have us killed. And besides, it’s still Dad’s debt. He borrowed that money, and we owe it. We have to pay it back, whether it’s fair or not.”

Koharu stood up, rubbing her eyes harshly, and gave a sad little smile.

“When Dad gets out… let’s buy a cake. Something big, really extravagant. It’ll probably be the last time the four of us can eat together like that. Let’s make it amazing.”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Just before the warning bell, Tokame arrived at school. Normally, Ninomiya was already there by then, but today his desk was empty. Since Tokame had once crushed the bread inside his desk by accident, Ninomiya had since taken to placing it neatly in a blue bag hooked on Tokame’s desk, but that, too, was missing today. He was wondering if Ninomiya was out sick when, at the exact moment the final bell rang, Ninomiya slipped quietly into the classroom. He entered from the back door, head down, and slid into his seat. A ripple of murmurs washed over the class. Tokame was taken aback himself—Ninomiya’s face looked like it had gone through a meat grinder. His left cheek was swollen and bruised, his lip was split, and a bandage covered his right eye.

Noticing the stares, Ninomiya pulled his hands up to shield his face, hunching over, but the curious glances from his classmates continued.

“What the hell happened to you?” At the next break, a few other classmates approached him before Tokame could.

“Tripped on the stairs at home,” Ninomiya replied, trying to shrug it off. “Pretty dumb, right?”

“Yeah, right,” someone else muttered. “Bet it was an upperclassman who did that to you, wasn’t it?”

It was the most likely explanation, and hearing it, Ninomiya’s face tightened. He forced a strained smile, but his eyes stayed dead serious.

“Nope. I really did fall, I swear.”

No matter how many times they asked, his answer didn’t change. The next break, though, Ninomiya made a beeline for Tokame, sitting across from him and slumping his head on Tokame’s desk. The few who wanted to ask more questions held back at the glare Tokame gave them.

“God, I feel beat,” Ninomiya mumbled, head down. Tokame wanted to ask what had really happened, if he had actually just tripped. But if Ninomiya, who was normally so chatty, was keeping quiet, then maybe it was better not to ask.

“Why don’t you just go home?”

He muttered that much, but Ninomiya only hummed noncommittally, curling further into himself. Still, when they went up to the rooftop for lunch, Ninomiya had remembered to bring Tokame’s share of bread. He ate about half his bento with a pained expression before pushing the rest toward Tokame, then lay down on Tokame’s lap to sleep. If his usual chattiness was a hundred, today he wasn’t even at one. Tokame appreciated the quiet but felt strangely unsettled by it.

“Honestly, I almost stayed home,” Ninomiya mumbled, eyes closed.

As Tokame was thinking that maybe Ninomiya had come only to make sure he still got lunch, Ninomiya spoke again, saying, “Nah, that’s not it.”

“School just seemed like it’d be… scary today. But if I skipped, I felt like I might never come back. Figured it was better to just get it over with.”

Tokame brushed his hair gently, and Ninomiya visibly relaxed, his tense face softening.

Just then, two unfamiliar upperclassmen with shaved heads walked out onto the rooftop, scanning the space before walking right over to them, leering down at Ninomiya lying on Tokame’s lap.

“Hey, Ninomiya.”

Ninomiya startled awake, letting out a tiny gasp as he recognized them.

“Taguchi wants to see you. Said you should come by for a little talk.”

Ninomiya’s hand, resting on Tokame’s thigh, began to tremble.

“L-look, I can’t right now…”

One of the upperclassmen seized Ninomiya by the collar, pulling him to his feet. Ninomiya gagged, his throat constricting.

“When Taguchi says he wants to see you, you show up! Now move it!”

They dragged Ninomiya away, and one of them turned to Tokame.

“Hey, you stay out of this.”

“T-Tokame,” Ninomiya stammered, his eyes brimming with fear. “I’m fine, really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Didn’t I say to stay back?” one of the guys barked, shooting Tokame a glare. But Tokame glared right back, and he recoiled, clicking his tongue in irritation before turning away, pulling Ninomiya along.

“Dude,” one whispered to the other, “what are we supposed to do about the big guy trailing us?”

“I don’t care. Our job’s just to bring him over,” one of the guys muttered. They’d apparently decided to ignore Tokame trailing behind them.

The pair dragged Ninomiya around to the back of the pool, a narrow, dimly lit alley between the pool and the outer wall, so isolated it was unlikely anyone would pass by unless it was peak season for the swim team.

Three guys were waiting there. They wore the badges of third-year students, with uniforms sloppily altered in some failed attempt at style. The guy in the middle, with coppery dyed hair and a glinting earring, sneered at Tokame over Ninomiya’s shoulder.

“Who’s that behind him?” he asked the pair who’d brought Ninomiya in.

“Just some friend of his, I guess,” one of them replied. He shoved Ninomiya’s leg from behind, making him stumble forward before giving him a hard push. Ninomiya fell face-first onto the concrete.

The guy with the earring wasted no time and kicked Ninomiya while he was down. But he didn’t get the chance to land a second blow—Tokame had him by the collar, fist slamming into his face, and booting him in the gut. In a flash, the guy crumpled onto the ground like a discarded mat.

Tokame grabbed Ninomiya’s arm and hauled him up.

“You bastard!” yelled the shaved-brow guy who’d been standing to Earring’s right, charging toward him. Tokame stepped back, dodging his swing, and drove his knee hard into the guy’s groin, following it up with a kick to the small of his back as he doubled over. As the guy fell face-down, Tokame flipped him over and straddled him, raising his fist. The guy winced, bracing for the hit, but Tokame smirked instead, scooping up a handful of dirt and grinding it into his eyes.

“Aaaaargh!” The shaved-brow guy clawed at his face, writhing on the ground in pain. The other guys looked pale, their faces losing color one by one. Tokame glared at each of them in turn, his voice low and menacing.

“If any of you so much as touch him again, I’ll make sure every last one of you pays.”

No one dared follow them. As Tokame walked with Ninomiya, holding him up by the arm, Ninomiya mumbled, “Yorozu, you’re terrifying.”

“So why’d they target you?” Tokame asked.

“I was just at the arcade, you know? We accidentally bumped shoulders, and I apologized, but they said I was being a smart-ass, dragged me out back, and, well, roughed me up pretty bad….” Ninomiya muttered, looking down, face flushed. “So lame…”

A petty reason if there ever was one.

“You’re really good at fighting,” Ninomiya said, finally smiling as he began to settle down. “Guess it’s not just your scary looks.”

“It has nothing to do with looks,” Tokame replied.

Ninomiya’s trembling from before was completely gone, and his usual blabbering was back in full force.

“Teach me how to fight, then,” Ninomiya said.

“No. It’s a pain.”

“But what if they come after me again?”

“Then just don’t stray too far from me.”

As Ninomiya’s chatter picked up, Tokame fell silent, doing his best to ignore him. When they got back into the school building, he let go of Ninomiya’s arm, but Ninomiya stuck close anyway.

“You know…with you around, I actually feel like we could be a force to reckon with here,” Ninomiya said, flashing a crooked smile with his bruised face.

Tokame gave him a flat stare.

“You’re totally thinking how stupid and annoying that sounds, huh?” Ninomiya laughed. He wasn’t wrong, Tokame thought to himself.

“I don’t care,” Ninomiya mumbled happily, holding on to Tokame’s arm with his head bowed, like he’d found something he’d been looking for.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

On Saturday afternoon, his father was scheduled for an overnight stay at home, so Tokame picked up a late-night shift on Friday to make the most of his time. Koharu had arranged to take the whole day off, and after lunch, she went to the hospital with Shunsuke to pick up their father. “Want to come with us?” she’d asked Tokame, but he planned to wait for Ninomiya at home, who’d promised to come over, and Tokame was exhausted from working overnight too.

Koharu mentioned that they’d walk to the hospital but take a taxi home, so their father wouldn’t have to walk.

Tokame woke with a start to find Ninomiya beside him, propped up on Tokame’s side, casually playing a game. “Ah, you’re awake?” Ninomiya noticed, lifting himself up. “You didn’t come to the door when I knocked, so I figured you were asleep when I found the door unlocked. What kind of guest treatment is this?”

It had actually been Koharu who had said, “Why don’t you invite him over? He’s funny, and cute, too. And the more, the merrier.”

Maybe having someone else around would help dampen their father’s endless demands for a drink. Then again, Tokame knew that he probably wouldn’t care about any audience when it came to making a scene.

When he checked the clock, it was almost 3:00 p.m. Koharu and Shunsuke had left shortly after noon. The walk to the hospital was thirty minutes; by car, just five. They should have been home by now. He felt a strange sense of foreboding—maybe they couldn’t bring their father home after all. Perhaps he’d had a breakdown and started acting out, or maybe he’d suddenly taken a turn for the worse.

Just as Tokame stood up, he heard loud knocking at the front door, which instantly lifted his dread.

“Sounds like Koharu and the others are finally back,” Ninomiya murmured, standing as well. But something about the knock made Tokame hesitate. Koharu wouldn’t knock; she’d come right in. The hazy glass shook with each heavy pound, revealing the silhouette of a tall figure behind it.

“Is anyone home?” came a man’s voice Tokame didn’t recognize. When he opened the door, a middle-aged police officer stood there, likely in his forties.

“Are you part of the Tokame family?”

Tokame nodded. The officer squinted, leaning forward slightly.

“Are you a college student? Or high school?”

“High school.”

The officer glanced into the house, as if looking for someone else. “Anyone else here? Your mom, maybe?”

“No. She died when I was eight. My dad’s in the hospital, but my sister and brother went to pick him up. They should be back any minute.”

The officer hesitated, glancing down as if to gather his words.

“Your family… well, the taxi your father, sister, and brother were in—it was involved in an accident.”

A chill crawled down Tokame’s spine.

“We’d like you to come with us, if that’s all right,” the officer continued cautiously. “But, well, you’re still in high school. Do you have any relatives we could contact?”

“No,” Tokame replied.

“Come on, there’s got to be an uncle or an aunt—someone?”

“I’ve never met any relatives in my life, and my dad never mentioned any.”

The officer scratched his cheek, looking concerned.

“All right, then… I guess you’ll have to come with us. We’ll drive you.”

When he returned to the living room, Ninomiya asked, “So that wasn’t Koharu-chan?”

“You need to go home,” Tokame replied flatly.

“Huh? Why?”

“Just go home!” Tokame shouted, and Ninomiya flinched. Muttering, “Fine, I’ll go,” he packed his game console into his bag and headed for the door. He gave a start at the sight of the officer standing there.

“Whoa, did you do something?”

Tokame didn’t answer, simply ushering him out of the house and onto the street. Then he got into the patrol car, which would take him to the hospital where his family had been taken. Another, younger officer sat in the front, driving, while the older one sat next to Tokame, explaining as they went.

“The taxi carrying your family was rear-ended by a truck driver who fell asleep at the wheel. The truck driver’s fine, but the taxi was crushed between the truck and another car ahead of it.”

The patrol car didn’t seem to be in a rush, and as the officer chose his words with careful deliberation, Tokame realized something.

“…Did someone die?” he asked quietly.

Silence filled the car, followed by the soft swish of the windshield wipers as rain began to fall.

"Until a family member can confirm, there's nothing we can say for certain."

“Is it my dad? Or… Koharu? Shunsuke?” Tokame pressed.

“We don’t know either. Not until we get confirmation.”

The officer bowed his head, fingers woven tightly together, as Tokame’s heart pounded chaotically in his chest. He knew—one of his family members was dead. If someone had to die, let it be his father. His dad only had a few months left anyway. And it was because of that man, weak and careless, that his family had suffered so much. If anyone was going to die, he wanted it to be his father, not Koharu or Shunsuke.

At the hospital, they didn’t lead him to a patient room but took him directly to the mortuary. Inside, four narrow beds lined the room, and a woman in her forties was bent over one of them, her body shaking with sobs that echoed steadily off the walls.

“On the far end is the taxi driver,” the officer said. “The three closest to us are the ones I need you to identify.”

In that instant, Tokame understood. He understood why the police couldn’t say anything over the phone, why they hadn’t rushed on the way here, why they had come straight to the mortuary.

"Are you sure you don’t want someone—a relative—to be here with you?" The officer’s voice was gentle.

“No,” Tokame replied and stepped forward into the room. He approached the beds beside the taxi driver’s, lifting the cloth on each one in turn.

Swollen faces. Deep wounds. Burns along hands and legs. The stark whiteness of the bandages stung his eyes. They looked like different people, almost unrecognizable, yet each one held some trace, some fleeting resemblance, to the faces he knew.

No matter how deeply in debt, no matter how poor they became, his mother had never left his father’s side. And his father, even though he could barely support himself, had never let go of Shunsuke, even when someone else had offered to take him in. A weak adult, as foolish as he was, had left the world clinging to the hands of his two children.

“They’re… they’re my family. All three of them,” Tokame said as he walked back to the doorway where the middle-aged officer waited.

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