Planet: Chapter 3 - part 2

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I ate a big meal in the company cafeteria. After that, I got so sleepy, and I was dozing off in the work van until we arrived at the site and the van came to a stop. The van smelled like a mix of dirt and sweat, and when I breathed that in, it hit me—“Ah, I’m headed to the work site.”

When I go to the convenience store, I end up spending all my money, and then I can’t buy anything to eat. The soup kitchen isn’t open every day. I was hungry and my feet didn’t hurt, so I went back to the Center yesterday.

Apparently, I’d been limping without realizing it, because the site supervisor asked, “What happened to your leg?” I told him, “My leg hurt, so I took some time off,” and today, I got assigned to the job of watering. It’s easy since I don’t have to move around much.

In summer, it’s fine, but in winter, getting splashed with water is freezing. By lunchtime, I was so cold and tired that I lay down in a sunny spot. Lying down makes it feel better. I did the same thing yesterday. Someone asked, “Are you feeling unwell?” When I replied, “I’m just tired,” they laughed, “Young and already low on stamina, huh?” I don’t like having low stamina while I’m still young. It’s awful. If I can’t work, I won’t be able to eat. That’s the worst.

Kan-san is still gone. I keep hoping he’ll come back today, but each day, he doesn’t, and the sun goes down, leaving me disappointed. How many days has it been now? Seven? More like…ten days, maybe? I don’t really know anymore.

I touch the string around my neck and feel the key looped through it. It’s the key to Kan-san’s apartment. Once, I lost it in the apartment and spent forever looking for it. Since I tend to forget things and lose them quickly, I twisted up a plastic bag from the convenience store and made it into a cord to wear around my neck. A kind older guy taught me how to do that when I was sleeping outside.

Along with the key, I attached the postcard I found in the trash, which I put in a plastic bag too. With these two things, I can get back to Kan-san’s apartment. I’d punched a hole in the postcard and tied it with the string, but after working all day, it got wet and tore at the bottom, so I put it in plastic instead. The address is still clear. I’ve gotten to know the route from the Center to Kan-san’s place well, so I don’t get lost much now, though if I panic, I still might.

Since I’ve been able to stay at Kan-san’s place, I’m working both yesterday and today for cash. When he comes back, I’ll pay him for rent and food. I’ll be able to cover at least a little.

“Hey.”

Someone’s calling in a loud voice. I wonder who they’re calling.

“I’ve been looking all over for you.”

The voice is close and sounds a bit scary. I open my eyes. There’s an older guy looking down at me. Did I mess something up? I hate getting yelled at. Maybe I should just apologize right away.

“I’m sorry.”

Wait, I know this guy. Isn’t he…Kanabe-san, maybe?

“When I heard you’d skipped out on Tani Construction, I panicked. Your old man’s with me.”

He’s “with” my dad? My dad’s an alien and lives on my home star. Does he sometimes come back here, even if he’s over there? If he does, I’d like to meet him.

“My dad’s here?”

“Yeah. You should at least pay your respects to your father’s remains.”

“Remains” are bones, kept in a white urn. I went once to put my hands together for someone who died in an accident. I hated it—everyone was crying. My dad won’t turn into bones. He’s not dead. Why would Kanabe-san say something so awful? Maybe, like the cops, he thinks my dad’s dead.

“My dad isn’t bones.”

“What are you talking about? When people die, they become bones.”

“My dad isn’t dead.”

“The police said the DNA test confirmed you two were father and son.”

The police kept going on and on, saying things I didn’t understand, so I just nodded and replied, “Yes, yes,” and they did a bunch of stuff. And they kept saying “DNA” over and over.

“I heard Murata didn’t have anyone, but he’s got a decent son after all. At least do what people normally do.”

Kanabe-san uses the word “normal” in that annoying way. People are always telling me about “normal” things, but it’s always in such an unpleasant tone, and there’s so much “normal” that I don’t know what any of it means.

“If you don’t have any money, I can keep him safe until you save up. So, please, do right by him.”

Tears fall from Kanabe-san’s eyes. What’s he so sad about? Why’s he crying?

"Murata was always easygoing, but he was a good guy. It’s too cruel, him being killed that way and ending up as a nameless grave.”

Seeing him cry, my chest felt tight and unsettled. That body isn’t my dad. Even if it had the same yellow hair tie and yellowish clothes like my dad, it’s not him. He’s on my star with my mom.

“That’s not my dad.”

“Get a grip!”

A loud voice crashed into me, making my chest clench.

“They did the test and got results—how can you keep insisting it’s not him? Is it because you don’t want to pay for the burial? Mura always worried about you, his son. And yet, he dies, and you just say goodbye and move on like it doesn’t matter?”

His shouting rattled in my ears, echoing deeper and deeper. My mind went blank, and I couldn’t make sense of what he was saying anymore. I don’t understand, I don’t understand. Kanabe-san is kind, so why is he angry with me? And why does he say such horrible things? He’s like the police. Ugh, I hate it. I hate it. My dad isn’t dead. He’s on my star.

Kanabe-san scares me. I don’t like Kanabe-san. I don’t want him to yell at me. I don’t want to be shouted at. Will he keep saying those things if I stay here? I stood up and walked away from Kanabe-san. I move away from things I hate. But he chased after me, shouting, “Hey, don’t run away!”

So, I ran. I ran. It was like the picture book I read as a kid, where a ghost chased you down. And the little kid cried and ran away…

A hand grabbed my arm. The grip was strong, and something cold and frightening slithered into me from that spot. I’m scared. Scared. I hate this, I hate it.

“If you don’t know what to do, I’ll tell you how…”

I swung my arm, and it hit something hard. There was a thud, and Kanabe-san fell sideways with a grunt.

“Ow, damn it!”

He was holding his head. My hand hurt too. Did I hit him? Is that why it hurts?

“I… I’m sorry…”

I apologized and ran. I left the fenced site and headed out. I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to be yelled at. Staying there is just endless unpleasantness.

I stopped and looked back. Kanabe-san wasn’t following me. I’m okay. I kept walking until the worksite disappeared behind me. Eventually, I reached a place filled with trees and benches. It’s probably a park. Parks are places where everyone can be, so I went in and sat on a bench under the trees.

My dad isn’t dead. He’s with my mom on my star. He’s an alien, so he isn’t dead. But everyone says he is.

…Could my dad actually be dead? Could he not have gone back to our star? Could he not be with my mom? If my dad is dead… My mind feels like it’s about to burst. No, I don’t want it. So he’s not dead. He’s not dead. He’s not dead.

I’m supposed to work after lunch, but I left the site. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to get yelled at by Kanabe-san. He wasn’t on the same bus, so we aren’t even in the same company. Lots of companies work on that site.

I wanted to go home, so I walked. I showed Kan-san’s address to different people and asked for directions. I kept going in the directions they pointed, saying, “That way, that way.” When the light was fading, I finally saw the sign with “P” and a dog. I’m home.

Kan-san’s room smells like him. When I curled up inside, a few tears came out. My dad isn’t dead. That body there wasn’t my dad. If it were my dad, I’d hate it. So it’s not him.

Kanabe-san was scary. He’d been nice, but then he got scary. I hate people like that. I hate people like that.

“Kan-saaan…”

I like Kan-san because he’s kind. Kan-san is the one I want. I hope he comes back soon, really soon.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

They weren't serving food at the park. I was pretty disappointed, but this old guy lying on a bench looked up and told me, "It’ll be here tomorrow," while yanking out a nose hair. So that night, knowing I'd get a meal the next day, I went to sleep feeling pretty good.

When I woke up, it was dark all around. There was this "ba-ba-ba" sound, and though it seemed like night, it was actually morning, which was weird. Rain was hitting the window and streaming down like it was melting away. I don’t like getting wet, but I really wanted that meal, so I went outside with Kan-san’s umbrella. My legs were soaked below the knee, and every step made my pants cling to my calves. I stomped through puddles, water seeping into my shoes, making this squelching noise like I was stepping on rotten vegetables. Gross.

At the park, though, nobody was there for the food line. I stood by the fence, waiting, thinking maybe I got there too early, but still, no one showed up. The rain kept pouring down, blurring everything in front of me. The puddles near my feet were brown and endlessly rippling.

I started feeling cold and shivering when I heard a voice. "What’re you doing here?" It was a man with a scruffy beard, walking over with his umbrella, one side all bent up like it had been hit by something.

“Waiting for the food line.”

The gray-bearded man let out a sigh. Ugh, he stank. Smelled like garlic.

“They canceled it today.”

“Canceled?”

“Yeah, something about a mix-up… and this weather, too.”

Food line canceled. Canceled, so it wasn’t happening. There’d be no food. I’d been looking forward to it so much. I’m hungry. My feet feel gross. Ugh, this sucks.

Back at Kan-san’s place, I peeled off my wet clothes and collapsed on top of the sleeping bag, completely naked. My stomach let out a long growl. I’m hungry. I’m so hungry. If you’re hungry long enough, you die, right? How long do you have to go without food before that happens? I went a long time without eating before, but I don’t even remember how long that was.

Kan-san isn’t here. He’s been gone for so long. Did he go back to his home star? Is that what people mean when they talk about “home”? Yeah, maybe. My mom and dad disappeared too, just like that. It’s just how it goes. I’m not supposed to tell anyone, though. Kan-san must’ve gone back to his home star without saying anything, too.

I want to go to my star. I want to see my dad and mom. Things there are probably so much better. The people at worksites are nice, and there’s a ton of good food.

My stomach growled again, so I drank a lot of tap water. If I don’t fill it with water, it bothers me. If I could sleep, I’d forget about being hungry, but I can’t sleep. My mind’s stuck on it: I’m hungry, I want something to eat. I already ate all the instant ramen in Kan-san’s place. There’s none left. They have cup ramen at convenience stores, but I don’t have any money. I can’t buy it. I have no money. No money.

If you don’t work, you don’t have money. But I don’t want to go back to the worksite. Once the crew leader’s van didn’t show up, and I was so hungry that I tried picking up cans from the park, thinking I could sell them. But this old guy yelled, “Hey, this is my turf!” and told me off. “You’re young, go work!” he said. He’s right. I’m young, so I should work. I realized I can carry heavy stuff, so I can’t just go around picking up cans.

I have a place to sleep where it’s warm, no bugs, and I can take a bath. But I’m still hungry. If I show up early at the Center and get the crew leader’s attention, I can eat breakfast. I know that.

But I don’t want to go back if Kanabe-san is there. I don’t want him telling me my dad’s dead. It just… makes me feel horrible.

Maybe I should look for a different job. But I’ve only ever worked at worksites. I know what to do there, but I don’t know how to do anything else. I’m not good at math, so I couldn’t run a register at a store. The people who do that are amazing.

When I turn on the TV, there’s this woman with long hair eating something. It’s a big bowl. There’s a yellow layer on top. Is that oyakodon? Looks so good. Saliva fills my mouth from the back, and my stomach lets out this loud growl. I want it so bad. I want to eat as much as it takes to fill me up till I’m stuffed.

I want to eat something—anything. No matter how much I hold my stomach or drink water, it only makes me need to pee. I’m still hungry, so hungry. I wish Kan-san would come back soon. Even if just for a little while.

Outside… maybe there’s something to eat outside. Maybe something’s fallen out there. Maybe there’s something edible in the trash can outside. If it’s just picking up thrown-away food instead of cans or bottles, I wonder if the old man won’t get mad at me.

I looked out the window; it’s dim outside. It’s not raining. I put on my dry navy-colored clothes and hung the key with the string around my neck. When I put my feet in my shoes, they’re wet and squishy. It feels gross, but they’re the only shoes I have, so there’s nothing I can do.

I keep my eyes on the ground as I walk, hoping I might find some money or food lying around. Then, suddenly—bam—I bump head-first into some bushes. I didn’t fall, but I got a bit wet. I guess I was looking down so much that I wasn’t paying attention to what was in front of me.

The sidewalk is darkened by the soaked ground, with puddles everywhere. There’s a vending machine by the park, so I checked around and under it a few times, but I didn’t find any money, just got my hands covered in dirt. As I walked, I wiped my hands clean on the wet fence and the trunks of trees nearby.

Each time I see a vending machine, I check all the spaces underneath, but no money. I walked up to the front of a closed shop and sat by the bushes. My butt got cold and wet, and I realized I sat in a damp spot, but oh well.

I see a convenience store sign across the way. They have tons of food there, but I don’t have any money to buy any. If I just stay sitting here, will I end up starving to death? I don’t want to die. I still want to go to my star.

Thinking about money, it popped into my head: I got money at the movie theater once. Maybe if I went back there, they’d give me money again? But, I don’t really want to go back. It hurts. But I’m so hungry. So hungry, so hungry. If I hold out just a little longer, I could get some money and buy some food.

Where was the movie theater again? I can’t remember. I think I was able to walk there from the Center. I could just ask someone along the big road. I have Kan-san’s address hanging from my neck with the key, so I’ll know how to get back.

As I entered the big street, I found a vending machine. I peeked under it and saw a flat, silvery thing. I thought it might be a 500-yen coin, but it wasn’t round. It was a weird shape. Maybe it’s a soda cap.

"…Ugh, embarrassing."

I didn’t like the sound of that voice. I looked over, and there was a young guy. I stared at him for a while, and he turned his face away and walked off. …Was he talking about me? I feel like he was, but I don’t know for sure.

I walked in the direction I thought it might be, but even looking around, I couldn’t find anything that looked like a movie theater. A man in a suit came walking from the opposite direction, so I went up to him, saying, "Um," and he bumped into my shoulder. The impact was strong, and I staggered back. I apologized, saying, "I’m sorry," but he just kept walking without saying anything. I did apologize, though. What an unpleasant person.

I saw an older woman and said, "Excuse me," to her. She stopped and looked up, saying, "Yes." Wow, she’s got a lot of wrinkles.

"I want to go to the movie theater. I don’t know the way."

She tilted her head, saying, "Movie theater?"

"There’s one nearby."

"If you mean a theater around here, it’d probably be the one near the Tower, right?"

When she mentioned the Tower, a white, tall image popped into my head. Oh yeah, the movie theater might’ve been near the Tower.

"Yes."

"Then if you turn here and go straight toward the Tower, you should find it."

I thanked the kind woman properly, saying, "Thank you," and headed in the direction she indicated. After a while, a big sign came into view. It’s a white building with a sign of a woman doing something lewd. There are bicycles everywhere. Oh, here it is. This is the place.

I went inside and was about to head down when someone called out, "Hey, young man. Got a ticket?" Were they talking to me?

"Ticket?"

The older lady was looking my way.

"Go buy one at the entrance vending machine," she said, pointing.

I wondered how to buy a ticket and walked in the direction she indicated. There was one of those machines like you’d see in a ramen shop—put in money, push a button.

Since it’s a movie theater, I guess you need a ticket. There were so many buttons, though, and I didn’t know which one to press. What did I do last time? I think the man who came with me bought it. I can’t remember. I don’t have any money to buy a ticket.

“Move it! If you’re not buying, get out of the way.”

A bit of a scary voice sounded behind me, so I quickly stepped aside. A man with a face dark as if smeared with mud bought a ticket and went down the stairs to the basement. I realized I was in the way and decided to leave the theater. I stood among the cluster of bicycles outside. Maybe I should head back to Kan-san’s place. I can’t get into the theater anyway. But I’m so hungry. My stomach is growling. It’s hard to keep standing, so I squatted down next to the bicycles, looking around to see if maybe an onigiri had fallen somewhere.

People—older men, women, younger guys—were going in and out of the theater. As I watched, it got darker and darker. Evening, I guess. Or maybe it’s already nighttime.

"Hey there."

A voice came from nearby. There was a man in a suit standing beside me. I wondered how long he’d been there. I looked younger than him—then he’s like an older brother.

"Are you meeting someone?"

He had a bit of a scruffy beard on his chin and wore a dark navy suit. Nice suit. It looked really high quality.

"No," I replied.

The man in the suit looked down at me.

"Are you not going inside?"

His chin moved in a little nodding motion.

"I don’t have money, so I can’t go in."

He nodded, saying, "I see." Then he asked, "Have you been to the basement before?"

"Yes."

"Want me to treat you to a ticket?"

A ticket… an entry pass. Treating means he’ll give it to me.

"For free?"

"Since I’m treating, it’s free."

"Then I’ll go."

I wanted to go inside the theater. There are people in there who’ll give me money. The man smiled and said, "So we’re agreed," and went into the theater. I followed him, thinking about what "agreed" even meant. He bought my ticket and waited for me. I felt happy. He’s a kind person.

I went down to the basement with this older brother. There was a smell down there, a mix of bathroom and… semen. Ah, yeah, it smelled like this last time too. A movie was playing, and on the big screen, people were kissing.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me to a corner in the hallway. Suddenly, he started touching me over my clothes, and it surprised me. His hand was moving around down there. It did feel kinda good being touched, though. But… I could do that myself, you know?

Oh, this is a sexual thing, isn’t it? I wonder if I could get money for this. His hand slips inside my pants, and a chill runs up my back like I’m cold. His fingers squeeze my crotch tightly, too tight—it hurts. I’ve never squeezed that hard myself. I’m scared he’s going to crush it.

People are starting to gather around. Are they watching me and the guy? It’s embarrassing. They should be watching the movie if they want to see something sexual. I hear this panting sound, kind of like a dog begging for food.

"Not much of a reaction," he says, his warm breath close against my ear. Reaction? What kind of reaction is he expecting? He turns me to face the wall, pulls my pants down, and a chill hits my butt. It's dark, but I know people are watching. I don’t like this. I want to go somewhere else, but he holds me down, and then something hot and hard presses against me. I think it might be... his penis, and then, slowly, it pushes its way inside from below.

"Aargh!" I let out a yelp, and the guy froze. "Too loud," he said. Am I not supposed to make any noise? But with the way the guy was moving his penis, the pain kept growing more and more intense. But maybe I shouldn’t say it hurts. This is exhausting. I don’t like this. I wish he’d pull his penis out.

It hurts, it really hurts. Back when Dad was around, one of the uncles from the dorm brought me here, saying, "Let's watch a movie together." We sat down, and as we were watching some naughty movie, the dorm uncle next to me started touching my penis. I didn’t understand why he was touching me, and Dad had told me that showing people your penis was something you shouldn't do.

"When there are people around, it's not okay."

But the dorm uncle said, "This is a place where it's okay to do that kind of thing," and didn't stop. There were people around us doing the same thing, so I thought maybe it was okay here. I left it alone, and it started to feel good, and my penis got hard. The dorm uncle took my hard penis out of my pants and started sucking on it. It was a strange feeling, and I couldn't tell if it was good or bad, but it started to feel good, and it got bigger, and then semen came out.

It felt good, but somehow it didn't feel right, and I wanted to leave, but the dorm uncle took me to the bathroom. The smell of urine and feces was so strong that I felt like vomiting, and there, I was penetrated from behind. I was shocked and said "No!" but my mouth was covered, and he kept rubbing the inside of my butt. Even after he pulled out his penis, my butt still hurt, and I cried. The dorm uncle said "Sorry" and gave me some money.

When I got back to the dorm, I told my father what had happened. My father said, "Never go to the movie theater with that guy again. If something like that happens again, run away as fast as you can." My father then applied some medicine to my sore and painful butt, which still throbbed with pain.

When I asked my father what I should do with the money, my father simply said, "Use it however you want." With the money the uncle gave me, I could buy a lot of cigarettes. If I go to the movie theater and let a guy put his penis in my butt, I’d get paid for it. That was... well, something sexual, I realized. There are places where you can have sex with a woman if you pay money, so I kind of understood that it was something like that. My dad always said, “It’s best to have sex with someone you like,” so I’ve never been to a place where you pay to do it with a woman. Sure, I could do it if I could pay, but it wouldn’t mean anything—I don’t even like them. I wonder, though… how do you even find someone you like?

...Ah, I remember now. My dad got picked up a little after that day at the movie theater.

This older brother put his penis in my butt. That means he'll give me money, right? I thought he was done when he pulled his body away and his penis came out. I thought it was over, but then he turned me around and thrust into me again. My butt hurt, and I started to cry. Then the older brother whispered in my ear, "Is it really worth crying about, you perverted old man?"

The older brother pulled out his penis. Even though it was out, my butt still hurt and throbbed with pain, and my groin area felt numb and trembled. The older brother dropped a used condom near my feet, like a deflated balloon, and said, "Just throw it away," and then put his penis away. "Well then," he said, and started walking away. I felt like something was missing, and I thought, wait, and chased after him.

"Um..."

The older brother turned around to look at me.

"Where’s the apology? Oh, and money. Can I have some money, please?"

He gave me an irritated "Huh?" in response.

"Please give me some money."

"What are you talking about?"

"If you put your penis in, then I get money."

His expression soured, but he reached for his wallet and mumbled, "If you wanted money, you should’ve just said so from the start." Then he chuckled—a laugh that sounded just like the way Kan-san laughed.

"Here."

The older brother handed me a small, neatly folded bill. Ah, now I can afford food. I unfolded it in excitement, but there was something written on the bill.

“Daddy, buy me a Nyane plushie. Love, Miyuu.”

It was in hiragana, so I could read it easily. Wondering if it was just a doodle, I looked up, but the older brother was already gone. I carefully folded the money back and tucked it into my pocket so I wouldn’t lose it.

The stairs leading up to the movie theater felt exhausting. Every step made my lower back and thighs throb with pain, like a dull, rhythmic ache. Yeah, it hurt the last time, too. Even walking down the street, the pain was there. Just as I wondered if I’d make it all the way to Kan-san’s house, my right knee suddenly buckled. I hit the ground, my face slamming hard, with a loud “thud” ringing inside my head.

Warm liquid started trickling from my nose. I wiped it, and though it was too dark to see clearly, I could tell by the dark stain on my sleeve that it was probably a nosebleed. With nothing else to wipe it on, I rubbed at it again with my sleeve.

My face hurt, too. When I stood up, my knee buckled, and I sank back down. My legs felt too weak to hold me. I crawled to the side of the road and lay down. After a while, a voice said, "Um, excuse me." It was a young woman.

"Your face is all, uh, covered in blood... Do you need me to call an ambulance?"

Ambulance... which meant going to the hospital.

"I don’t want an ambulance."

"But..."

"I’m fine, really."

My face still hurt, and there was a constant throbbing in my lower back. Last time, I remember, I was in pain, but I could still walk. The young woman left, and I was relieved.

"Um, excuse me."

Another voice. I opened my eyes and swallowed hard. A man in a police uniform. A police officer. I don’t like police officers.

"We received a report that someone seemed unwell in the area. Are you alright?"

I avoided looking at him and slowly pushed myself up.

"I’m fine, really."

Even though it hurt, I managed to stand. I walked away from the officer, not looking back even though I knew he was following me. I turned a corner, and when I checked again, he was gone. Just as I realized he was gone, a sharp pain jolted through my lower back, making me crouch down. I spat out a metallic taste that had built up in my mouth. Under the streetlight, I could see the vivid red. Someone walking towards me gasped and quickly stepped aside.

I feel so tired. Really tired. I wanted to lie down, but the thought of another police officer coming by made me anxious, so I kept walking. Eventually, I found a place. It was like a little fenced-in garbage area, just big enough—about two tatami mats’ worth of space. There was a gap between that area and a low hedge nearby. I found some cardboard at the garbage site, dragged it over, and lay down on it. It was cold, so I went back and grabbed a few more pieces, making a sort of blanket. That helped a bit with the cold.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts so much. My butt, my crotch, and even my face feel like they’re throbbing with pain. I’ve got some money, but going all the way to the convenience store just sounds exhausting. The pain feels bigger than the hunger now. If I stay still, maybe it’ll hurt less. It’ll go away if I sleep. That’s what Dad used to say. I’ll wait until the pain eases up a bit, then go to the store.

Ah, it’s cold. I forgot how freezing it is sleeping outside; Kan-san’s place is always warm. I fell asleep thinking about the cold, then woke up freezing again. I piled on another piece of cardboard and went back to sleep. Eventually, my face grew bright, and I woke up. Ah, it’s morning. My face and crotch don’t hurt too badly if I don’t move, but my butt still aches. Even so, it’s a little better. I pushed the cardboard aside and stood up. Walking makes my butt throb, so I shuffle along. I make it to the big street, but I still don’t know which way to go to get back. My butt hurts, and I don’t want to get lost. I’d like to ask someone for directions, but there aren’t many people around. I see the sign for a convenience store. Ah, my stomach. I’m hungry. I want to eat something.

Inside, there’s so much to eat. Convenience stores are great. It’s so good having money. I can buy whatever I want here. I take five rice balls and some tea to the counter. The guy behind the register keeps glancing at me, back and forth. What’s up with him? When our eyes meet, he looks down, quietly beeping each rice ball with a flashing red scanner. Numbers come up on the screen. When the total’s there, I hand him the money from my pocket with a “Here.” The guy opens it up and just stares at it.

“Sir, I’m afraid you can’t use this.”

He hands the money back to me.

“I’ll pay.”

“I told you, you can’t use this.”

“This is money.”

He says, “Just a moment, please,” and goes to the back of the store. A manager comes out this time. The guy explains something, and the manager nods.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but this isn’t real money.”

The manager’s voice is intimidating. Not real money? What’s he talking about?

“It’s real money. I just want a rice ball.”

My stomach is growling loudly.

“I’m telling you, it’s counterfeit.”

“It’s not fake. I’ll buy the rice ball.”

Last time, I was able to buy a ton of cigarettes with this. The manager gestures for me to follow him. I paid, so why won’t they let me buy a rice ball? I’ve bought things here before—why not now?

He leads me through a door behind the register, into a back room. “Please sit down,” he says. I sit, but it hurts more on the chair, so I sink down to the floor. It still aches, so I lie down. Ah, that’s a little better. My stomach’s still rumbling, though. Even holding it down, it won’t stop.

“Are you hungry?”

The manager looks down at me.

“Yes. I want a rice ball. I’ll buy it.”

He leaves the room and comes back right away. He stands next to me, holding out a rice ball.

“Here, want this?”

“Yes, I’d like to buy it.”

“No charge for this one. It’s expired, so it’s on the house.”

Someone gave me food past the expiration date before. I should eat it quickly if it’s like that. So if he’s offering it, it’s okay to take it, right?

“Thank you very much.”

I bring the rice ball close to my face, and the smell of rice drifts up to my nose, making me want to eat it even more. I tear off the wrapper and take a bite. The sweetness of the rice fills my mouth. Ah, it’s delicious, so good. It’s so tasty, I feel tears in my eyes. Something tough gets stuck in my mouth, and when I push it out with my tongue, it’s plastic. I must have missed a bit when unwrapping it. The rice ball is gone in no time.

“Want another one?”

When I nod, he hands me another. After eating two rice balls, the hunger fades a little. I want more and more, but I’m okay. My stomach isn’t rumbling with that intense noise anymore.

“Thank you for the rice balls,” I said to the old man. He replied with a quiet, “Mm, yeah.” He’s a kind person. I was thinking he was a good person when someone else said, “Excuse me,” and entered. Dressed in a blue uniform—a police officer. Why is a cop here? I was feeling good, but now, out of nowhere, it’s all ruined.

The convenience store guy and the officer are talking, something about “money…” They’re speaking fast, so I only catch bits and pieces. The officer comes closer to me. Ah, I don’t like cops. I sit up, ready to get away if I have to.

“You’re covered in blood on your face. What happened?” the officer asks. Blood? I touch my face, and something flakes off. Red and blackish dirt. What is this? I keep touching it, and more flakes away. Is this a scab? How did I get a scab? Oh, right, I fell, and my face hurt.

“Is there some reason you’re lying down? Are you unwell?”

His voice doesn’t sound threatening. Some people yell, but he’s not one of them.

“My butt hurts.”

The officer repeats, “Your butt?” and pauses for a moment before asking, “Have you been using any kind of drugs?”

“I don’t do drugs. My dad told me I shouldn’t do drugs.”

There’s a ticking sound behind the officer, a clock. Then tick-tock, tick-tock. The sound of an ambulance siren gets closer. I don’t like ambulances. They carry people who are close to dying. That’s scary. The siren fades, and that’s a relief.

“Where did you get the money you tried to use to pay?” the officer asks.

“Someone gave it to me.”

“Who gave it to you?”

He asks me to describe the person. Describe... Oh, I know, it’s about looks.

“A guy in a suit.”

“A young man in a suit gave you this money?”

Suit… that’s like, yeah, same as what he’s saying.

“Yes.”

“Where did he give it to you?”

“At the movie theater.”

“Why did he give you money at the movie theater?” The officer’s voice gets a little faster. “Did you receive this money as some form of payment?”

Payment? What did that mean?

“He gave it to me at the theater.”

The officer looks at my face. “Alright, listen up,” he says. “This money you tried to use is counterfeit. The color resembles a 10,000-yen bill, but there’s no watermark, and the portrait is completely different. Didn’t you notice?”

Counterfeit? I thought it was real money, but maybe it’s fake. If the officer says so, maybe it’s true. You’re not supposed to use fake money. Counterfeit money gets you arrested… My chest feels prickly.

“Will I be arrested?”

“In this case, the store hasn’t suffered any loss, and it seems you didn’t know it was fake, so we’ll leave it at a warning.”

“Do I have to go to prison?”

The officer pulls out the money from his pocket, the fake bill now in a plastic sleeve, and shows it to me.

“See here, it says ‘Children’s Bank’ printed on it. You understand? Also, counterfeit bills are a bit smaller than a real 10,000-yen bill. If you come across money like this again, please bring it to the police. And make sure to check money carefully from now on, alright?”

Oh, he’s right. Where the officer’s pointing, it says “Children’s Bank” in tiny letters. So, Children’s Bank money isn’t good.

The officer walks back over to the convenience store guy, and they start talking again, too quietly for me to hear. Then the officer leaves.

“Alright, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave now. Or… do you have anywhere to go?” The old man is looking my way.

“I live in Kan-san’s room. Kan-san hasn’t been home for a long time.”

The old man leaves the room and comes back quickly, holding a stuffed plastic bag.

“Here, take this.”

Inside the bag, there are rice balls and tea.

“I’ll pay for it,” I say.

“It’s fine. You don’t have any money, do you?”

“No, I don’t. When I get money from working, I’ll pay it back.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. What a kind man. He’s giving me food even though I didn’t pay for it. He’s as kind as those volunteer people. “Thank you very much,” I say, grateful.

“...But take this, and don’t come back to my store again.”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

When I put my foot down, a sharp jolt shoots up from my butt, like a numbing pain. I stop. I wait until the throbbing pain fades, then start walking again, only for the sharp jolt to hit me again. Throb, throb, throb… it just keeps hurting. The pain isn’t going away, but I have to keep walking if I want to make it back to Kan-san’s place.

I try putting my foot down carefully. No sharp pain this time. Ah, this is better. Slow and careful. It’s like I’m a scared cat, creeping along, only able to take small steps. But that’s okay.

There’s a rustling sound. Inside the plastic bag, there’s the rice ball I got… and the tea. The rice ball sways, rustling. It’s a nice sound, yeah. It’s the sound of food.

Ah, I’m so tired. My butt and my legs are aching. There’s a vending machine by the road. There’s an empty spot behind it, so I go in there to sit down. I’ll rest here. No one can see me here, so no one will scold me. There’s no wind either; this is nice. Just as I’m thinking that, I drift off.

My back hurts. It’s probably because I slept in an awkward position. I can see around me. It’s not pitch black like night, but it’s not exactly bright either. It reminds me of… ah, what was it? That white thing you mix paints on… what’s it called… a p-palette. Yeah, a palette. I remember once putting blue paint on it, then dripping black paint on top. I thought maybe if I mixed them with a brush, it’d turn dark blue like this. I see this color often because I go to the Center when the sky looks like this.

There’s no one on the big road. A few cars pass by, their engines going “vroom,” and then the sound fades away. The pain in my butt is a little better now. It’s okay to walk slowly without much pain.

Even though I’m taking the same path back, I end up somewhere unfamiliar. I must be lost. Maybe I should ask someone for directions. But there’s no one walking around. I wonder if the construction workers are nearby… ah, I hear voices somewhere up ahead.

Someone walks past me from behind, a man dressed like a construction worker. I call out, “Excuse me,” but he just keeps going. Maybe he didn’t hear me. He turns a corner up ahead. I wonder what’s over there. I follow and find people walking around. There were none on the main street, but here there are. I wonder why.

There are blue tarps and tables set up along the street, with all kinds of things laid out. I get closer for a look. Doorknobs, shoes, T-shirts, rice bowls, underwear, a single shoe, a dirty glove.

This place is a shop. I’ve been here before. I bought something… what was it? Ah, gloves. I’d lost one, so I bought a single replacement. I wasn’t alone back then. Who was I with… was it my dad? Yeah, it was Dad.

At one stall, they have DVDs with naked women lined up on a blue tarp. When I look at naked women, my thing gets hard. I don’t want to get the urge to do it here, so I shouldn’t look, but I’m curious. I steal glances, and then—wait a minute.

The woman on the DVD cover looks like Mom. She really looks like her. The old man with white hair sitting on a bag at the back of the tarp says, “300 yen each.” I don’t have any money, so I can’t buy one. I guess it’s okay just to look. I shouldn’t touch if I’m not buying.

I squat down to look closer, and a sharp pain shoots up my butt, so I kneel down. Ah, if I lean forward like this, squatting doesn’t hurt as much.

On the DVD cover, a man is grabbing the woman’s breasts from behind. The woman’s legs are spread wide, but the area between her legs is blurred out.

“That one’ll get you off,” the old man says. The woman’s face still looks like Mom’s. I want to look more closely.

“Can I touch it?”

“Sure.”

I pick up the DVD and bring it close to my face. It’s definitely Mom. There are more pictures on the back, and they all look like Mom’s face. The man touching Mom’s breasts and butt… I’ve seen him somewhere before. Maybe he was someone from the dorm.

"You like those ‘married woman’ DVDs, huh?"

The old man laughs with a strange “Heh-heh” sound. That laugh—it sounds familiar. In my mind, I see chocolate. Sweets… something sweet… my mom. My mom would eat chocolate, saying it was “so good,” and hardly ever shared any with me. I’d always felt a little jealous watching her enjoy it. I remembered her saying “thank you” when she’d been given a big bag of chocolate, and the man who gave it to her had laughed with a “Heh-heh.” Oh, right. That was Kiichan. Kiichan, who used to live next door and always gave her sweets. I had always thought Kiichan had a funny laugh. Yeah, the man touching my mom’s breasts in the DVD photo… that was Kiichan.

“That actor on the DVD, that was me back in my youth,” the old man says.

I look at him. The Kiichan on the DVD doesn’t look like this man in front of me. The Kiichan I remembered was young, the way I’d always known him. But the man here is old, with white hair, a dark, wrinkled face. Could he really be Kiichan? I know wrinkles come with age, but could someone change so much? The old man rubs his nose with his hand.

“When I was young, I used the stage name ‘Magnum Kid’ and worked as an adult video actor. I was popular, had women flocking to me—I didn’t get a moment’s rest.” He chuckles, looking pleased with himself. So it must’ve been something really good.

“With this actress, there’s a bunch of ‘hardcore’ titles. She was pretty famous in that genre back then.” The old man pulls out some other DVDs and lays them out in front. Ah, that was my mom, too. She was tied up in red rope, her breasts pushed out between the bindings.

“Two for 500 yen,” he offers.

In the red rope one, there was probably a man’s penis inside my mom. The spot where it was happening was blurred out, but I was pretty sure that was what was going on. Was this an “adult” thing? Oh, right. These were adult DVDs.

A hazy feeling spreads through my head. This… this is bad. Why would my mom be doing that with Kiichan? She was married to my dad. When you got married, you were only supposed to do that kind of thing with your spouse. Wasn’t this cheating? Cheating was bad. I remember a man at work crying because his wife and kids had left after he cheated.

“Hey, kid, I’ll cut you a deal—five for a thousand yen, can’t beat it!” the old man grins.

“That’s…my mom.”

The old man’s voice dropped. “Huh?”

“This is my mom. My mom’s married. She shouldn’t be doing this kind of thing with anyone but my dad.”

The old man clicks his tongue and turns his head away.

“If you’re not buying, get out of here.” He waved his hand at me like he was shooing a fly.

“Married people shouldn’t do that with others. That’s what my dad said.”

“Shut up! I told you to get lost!”

The man swung a plastic bottle at me, and it hit my face with a thud. It hurt. I stumbled back, afraid and wondering why he’d hit me, when suddenly, a small rock struck my shoulder with a painful thud. He was rough, too rough. I backed away from his blue tarp.

My mom is in an adult DVD. People watch these adult DVDs. They see them on TV. My dad once ripped out a page with a photo of a naked woman from a magazine and told me, “Use this.” So, that’s what I’d been using, always.

Why would Mom do something like that with a man who wasn’t Dad?

There was this guy in the company dorm once who showed me an adult DVD and asked, “You wanna try watching this too?” As I watched, I felt myself getting hot, and, well, hard. It was way better than the torn-out picture from that book.

One time, one of the guys showed me an adult DVD and invited me to go to a place with women like the ones in the video. He said I could do the same things as in the DVD. But Dad told me, “Don’t go. Those kinds of things aren’t good. Do it only with someone you love.” So I never went. I just kept using the photos.

The man who threw the rock at me started folding up his blue tarp, putting it onto a cart, and dragging it away. He seemed angry. I wonder why. It’s true that married people shouldn’t cheat.

Wait… does that mean Mom did something bad too? She has Dad, but she did it with another man, so maybe it was cheating. Could she have made a mistake? If Dad found out, would he be angry? But maybe, since Dad is kind, he’d forgive her if she apologized.

I wanted to ask which way I should go to the Center, but now… huh? I’m holding one of Mom’s DVDs. I haven’t paid for it, but I took it. I forgot to give it back. This is bad. If I take it without paying, that’s stealing, and I’ll get caught by the police. I need to return it.

But the man’s gone. What should I do with this DVD? I didn’t mean to take it. Should I leave it where he was? But someone else might pick it up. I remember once, I accidentally took some equipment home from work without returning it. The next day, when I brought it back, they just told me to be careful and didn’t get mad. I’ll just come back here and give it back. If I return it, then it’s not stealing, right? Yeah, I’ll do that. I’m glad I figured out what to do.

I asked the man selling books of naked women on cardboard next to the one who left, “Which way should I go to get to the Center?” He told me, “Straight ahead.” I thanked him and walked in that direction, and eventually, I could see the Center coming into view.

From here, I knew where Kan’s place was. That was a relief. As Kan’s apartment slowly came into sight, I felt my chest ease. Finally, I’d be able to sleep somewhere warm and comfortable. I was so happy, but when I started up the stairs to the apartment, that throbbing pain in my butt came back, making it tough to climb.

I slipped the key into the lock, turned it, and it clicked open. That click… I like it. I sighed. Kan’s shoes weren’t by the entrance. It was quiet inside. No sound at all. I pulled back the rust-colored curtain to check, but Kan wasn’t home. My excitement dropped a little, replaced by an “oh well” kind of feeling.

I ate one of the rice balls the guy from the convenience store gave me. Then, needing to go to the bathroom, I noticed the inside of my pants was bright red. “Whoa!” I blurted out, startled by my own voice. The hair in that area was clumped together in a rough, reddish-black mess, so I took a bath and rinsed it away with warm water. It stung sharply on my butt, prickling with pain. The water turned a faint pink as it ran across the tiles.

My butt hurt, but at least I got to eat the rice ball. That convenience store guy was so kind.

The clothes I wore before were still wet, and the ones I was wearing now were stained with blood. There was a time when I’d wear things even if they were a little dirty, but since Kan often did laundry, I’d gotten used to wearing clean clothes, and I preferred it that way.

I slipped, bare, into my sleeping bag. It was warm and cozy. Even naked, I felt nice and warm. Ah, this is my place. No cold, no worries, no fear here.

As I lay down, I spotted it—the DVD I had to return. Mom’s breasts were spilling out between those red ropes. I wondered if I could see Mom with this. I missed her—I hadn’t seen her in so long. Being an adult DVD, she was probably doing something sexual in it. I flipped it back and forth in my hands. I wanted to see her, but the thought of her doing things with Kiichan made me feel a bit unsettled.

I was getting tired. Even though I hadn’t worked and it was morning, I felt sleepy, and as I lay there, I heard a small cracking sound. I reached under the sleeping bag and pulled out the DVD case. The edge had a tiny crack, but the disc seemed fine. Since it was only a small break, it should be okay. I should keep it somewhere it won’t get stepped on.

I slid it under Kan’s bed. There, it wouldn’t get stepped on, and I could see it while lying down. I’d go return it to the man tomorrow—I had to. Thinking about that, my eyes grew heavy, hard to keep open. I let out a big yawn.

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