Second Serenade: Chapter 14

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He wasn't struggling with his studies, and he wasn't being bullied either. Even so, he found himself not wanting to go to school. No matter how careful he was, there was always a chance he might run into Sunahara there. It wasn't as if anything dramatic would happen if they crossed paths in the hallway—just the sharp, bitter reminder of that lingering discomfort between them.

One day during lunch break, Aketo found himself idly staring out the window when he noticed Sunahara walking across the school yard. He wasn't in his uniform, which made him stand out immediately. Cutting across the wide, open grounds, he headed for the main gate. Aketo checked his watch—12:15. Maybe Sunahara was just stepping out to buy lunch from a nearby shop.

Curious, Aketo kept his eyes fixed on the gate, and sure enough, five minutes later, Sunahara reappeared, a plastic bag swinging from his right hand. What did he buy? A bento, maybe? Aketo wondered. He suddenly recalled how, the last time they'd eaten together, Sunahara had mentioned he didn't like hamburger steak and couldn't stand green peppers—surprisingly picky for someone who looked so indifferent most of the time.

Sunahara crossed the yard again and disappeared into the school building. Despite the awkwardness that usually came with seeing him, today Aketo felt strangely calm as he watched him walk. In fact, he'd even waited for him to come back. Why? he wondered, until the answer dawned on him: Because he didn't notice me. It was easy to keep watching when there was no chance of catching that cold, cutting glare, no chance of hearing those words—You're the worst. You make me sick.

Did that mean, deep down, he actually wanted to see him? Maybe he even wanted to talk to him? But Aketo couldn't make sense of his own feelings, no matter how hard he tried.

Before he knew it, winter break had arrived. Without school, the risk of running into Sunahara disappeared, and Aketo had thought the time off might finally bring some peace of mind. But instead, it felt like he'd accidentally thrown a bucket of ice water onto a dying fire, only to have it flare up again—now he wanted to see Sunahara more than ever.

He'd been rejected, despised, even told outright that his presence made the other man physically ill. He should have known better. And yet, he still wanted to see Sunahara. Just for a moment. Just to exchange a few words. It felt pathetic, clingy, even unmanly, to still be hung up on someone who'd called him the worst. But he couldn't stop the surge of emotions no matter how hard he tried.

The only thing keeping him from running straight to Sunahara's apartment was his own stubborn pride. This isn't like me. It doesn't fit my style. I don't owe him an apology for anything I said or did.

Caught between the longing to see him and the refusal to swallow his pride, Aketo found himself spending more and more time with Otomo-san. He treated her with a gentle kindness, lavishing attention on her as if to drown out his thoughts of Sunahara. But every time he smiled at her, he couldn't help but wonder, Isn't this what you wanted from me? Wouldn't you have preferred me to be this kind, this considerate?

But Sunahara would never know. Showering Otomo-san with affection as some kind of petty, indirect payback was a hollow gesture, a one-sided, self-indulgent comfort.

He still couldn't forget Sunahara. And no matter how much time passed, his feelings remained unresolved—half-hearted, stuck somewhere in between.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Aketo had promised to go on a New Year’s shrine visit with Otomo-san. Hayashida had also invited him to come along, but when Aketo turned him down with a simple, “I already have plans,” he didn’t push the matter further.

At 10 a.m., Aketo arrived at the small park in front of the station where they had agreed to meet. Otomo-san was already there, but at first, he didn't recognize her. Dressed in a kimono with her makeup carefully done, she looked like a completely different person. They had just seen each other a couple of days ago, but now, standing before her, he felt strangely shy. The two of them walked in silence for a while, neither quite knowing what to say.

“You look beautiful,” Aketo said as they walked.

Otomo-san spread her sleeves a little, showing off the kimono.

“This was my sister’s kimono from her coming-of-age ceremony. She gave it to me when she got married, since she can’t wear long-sleeved kimonos anymore.”

“No, I meant… you.”

Otomo-san’s cheeks flushed bright red.

“It’s my first time putting on makeup, so it feels a little embarrassing.”

“It looks great on you. When I first saw you, I didn’t even realize it was you. I thought you were a model from a magazine.”

“Oh, stop,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful tap before breaking into a radiant smile.

As they approached the shrine, the crowds grew thicker. Otomo-san, clearly unused to her sandals, began to lag behind. Aketo reached for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. Her hand was small and soft in his.

“Aketo.”

He turned at the sound of a familiar voice. It was Hayashida.

“Happy New Year! I guess when you’ve got a beautiful date, you’re not gonna wanna hang around with a bunch of guys, huh?” Hayashida grinned, casting a friendly smile at Otomo-san. She responded with a quiet, “Happy New Year,” and a small nod.

“Are you alone?” Aketo asked.

Hayashida shook his head.

“Nah, Kakegawa’s over there. And Sensei, too.”

He pointed into the crowd, and Aketo’s eyes followed his gesture. There, just a few meters away, was Kakegawa, waving with exaggerated enthusiasm. And beside him was Sunahara. The sight of them standing together made Aketo’s breath catch in his throat. The sudden spike of tension in his body made his back stiffen.

“Well, see you back at school,” Hayashida said, weaving back into the throng to rejoin his friends.

“Aketo-kun?”

“Hm?”

“What are you looking at?”

Even after they had disappeared into the crowd, Aketo kept his eyes locked on where Sunahara had been, straining to catch one last glimpse of that retreating figure—the man who hadn’t even bothered to look his way.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The new term started, but not much had changed. Sunahara still wouldn’t meet his eyes, and they still didn’t speak. Yet Aketo found himself always aware of his presence.

It was near the end of February, with finals approaching, when Aketo first heard the rumor.

They had just finished lunch, and Kakegawa had been called out into the hallway by a younger student. Since Kakegawa wasn’t involved in any clubs, there was only one possible reason for a junior to be calling for him.

“Man, having a crush on Kakegawa must be rough,” Hayashida muttered, gnawing through his third cafeteria bread roll.

Aketo, eyes still fixed on the door, gave a noncommittal nod before glancing up at Hayashida.

“What’s going on with Kakegawa these days?”

“Hm? What do you mean?” Hayashida shot him a curious look.

“I mean, has he confessed to Sensei yet?”

Hayashida crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful grunt.

“I doubt it. Last I heard, he still hadn’t worked up the nerve. Not that I blame him. I mean, it’s him we’re talking about.”

He gave a dry, self-deprecating chuckle before leaning in closer, as if remembering something.

“Speaking of which, did you hear? Sunahara-sensei is probably getting transferred this year.”

“Transferred? You mean to a different school?”

“Yeah,” Hayashida nodded emphatically. “He’s been here for three years now, so it’s about that time. I heard it’s almost certain—like 80% chance. And since he’s single, there’s a good chance they’ll send him somewhere far away.”

Sunahara… leaving. The thought hit Aketo like a physical blow.

“When Kakegawa heard about it, he was crushed. But he bounced back pretty quick,” Hayashida said, stuffing the last piece of bread into his mouth. “Said he’d just ride his motorcycle to visit him on the weekends. Guy’s got guts.”

Aketo didn’t even have a motorcycle license, let alone a regular driver’s license. If Sunahara really got transferred, he would disappear from the school grounds entirely. And if he ended up moving away, they might never see each other again.

Good. That would be for the best. If Sunahara left, all the things that had been bothering him would disappear.

“Hey, Aketo.”

Hayashida’s voice, tinged with confusion, snapped him back to reality. He turned just as a warm tear hit his lap. He hadn’t even realized he was crying, and the shock of it made him freeze.

“Oh… I think something got in my eye.”

He clumsily pressed his fingers to the corners of his eyes, but it was no use. The tears kept falling, spilling over like a broken dam. His body started to tremble uncontrollably.

“Hey, you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing… probably…”

“Come on, man, don’t lie. Something’s up.”

Panicking, Aketo shot up from his seat and bolted from the classroom. There were only a few places in the entire school where one could find even a sliver of privacy. He stumbled into a bathroom stall, slammed the door shut, and locked it. As soon as the latch clicked, his legs gave out, and he sank to the floor. His body convulsed with harsh, ragged sobs, the kind that shook him to his core.

Tears streamed down his face, his body trembled uncontrollably, and his chest throbbed with sharp, stabbing pain. He huddled there, arms wrapped around his knees, shaking and sobbing in the cramped stall. The sheer intensity of his own emotions terrified him. It felt like all the pent-up frustration he’d been ignoring had finally burst free, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

He didn’t even want to think about why he’d ended up like this. The very thought was unbearable.

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