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The Place You Called From Chapter 4
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The Place You Called From Chapter 4

One Who Sees the Stars

I resolved, for the few days until summer break, to forget all about the bet and live the kind of life a high-schooler should. In a way, that was a simple task. All I had to do was imitate the methods of the people who had always treated me with disgust, yet a part of me could never stop aspiring to. Similar to how a language very different from your mother tongue makes you that much more conscious of its grammar, I knew a lot about their unwritten rules, even moreso than the unwritten rules of my own groups. 

I began hanging out with Chigusa, Nagahora, and their friends. I had assimilated into the class in no time. What really got me to realize how drastically different my life had become was the sports tournament just before summer break. At the time I sent in my form for it, I wasn’t sure if I’d be out of the hospital by then, so I was put down as a backup softball player. 

I got my chance to play in the first game. At the top of the fourth, when I stepped up to plate as a pinch hitter, the crowd suddenly cheered. I looked around trying to figure out what had happened before realizing their cheers were apparently meant for me. Some volleyball girls who had rather quickly lost their game were especially lively, and unbelievably enough, shouted my name in unison. That made me completely whiff the first pitch. The cheers only got louder. 

After the second pitch was a strike, things got a bit calmer. Becoming overly-conscious of the strike zone, I hit the third pitch right with the middle of the bat, and the ball went soaring off into the blue sky. Back in middle school, I had faked sick to leave school early, go to the town’s only batting center, and make bets with my “friends” over this and that. But still I thought to myself, I’ve finally gotten to experience this for once in my life. 

Leisurely coming to a stop on second base, I turned to take a peek at the crowd. It wasn’t like it was the first time I’d made a long hit, but there was a clamor as if I’d scored the deciding points. Even girls I’d never talked to were waving and calling my name. 

At this point even I, in all my wariness, had to admit it. 

It seemed that Yosuke Fukamachi was welcome in this class. 

Alas, for all their efforts, Class 1-3 was knocked out of all the competitions in round two, and didn’t make it to the closing ceremony. Half of us went to watch the other class’s games, while the other stayed in the classroom, soaking up the festival mood and chatting. 

I had a rambling conversation with Nagahora myself, but soon those girls who had cheered for me during the game came up, poking each other, and showered me with all kinds of questions. Where do you live? Do you have any siblings? Why were you in the hospital for three months? Are you keeping up with class? What club are you in? Do you have a girlfriend? Etcetera. I was unsure how to answer every time and sought help from Nagahora, but he refused; “They’re asking you, Fukamachi!” 

After the crowd left, Chigusa, who had stood outside the circle, came and sat down next to me, and asked exactly the same questions the earlier girls had. She made me repeat my answers from mere minutes ago word-for-word. When Chigusa left her seat, Nagahora asked her, “What were you hoping for there, Miss Minagisa?”, and she gave an unintelligible response: “Who knows. Maybe I just wanted to check if I’d get the same answers if I asked the same questions.” 

And just like that, I caught up from my three-month delay. I made a promise to Chigusa to accompany her to her rehearsal for the Minagisa summer festival, and made plans with Nagahora and his friends to go to the beach. It felt like planning someone else’s summer vacation. Hajikano continued to be absent, and her seat front and to the right remained empty, but I forcibly pushed all the things it would make me think of out of mind. Luckily, Kasai never called me in after the second day, and I didn’t hear any public phones ringing. 

On July 18th, we had our closing ceremony, and summer vacation began in earnest. I was practically glowing. I had made it to summer break doing all the things I should have done. It was hard to call things ideal, but it was a stellar accomplishment for me. 

Naturally, a part of me was also sneering at this extreme turnabout. Forget personality, forget ability, forget that there’d been no real changes since I was about 14 - the fact I’d gotten all this heaped on me the moment my birthmark went away makes you want to think that appearance really is everything for people. But depending on your viewpoint, you could also consider that my life of diligent study in the hospital had unconsciously bettered my personality, or that I was simply a good match with the people at this high school. My conclusion was that even if my birthmark came back, it might not be too late to stop things from turning tragic. 

For my first two days of summer break, I took the opportunity to enjoy some time alone. To a musician, the times when you’re listening to music and times when you’re not carry roughly equal importance; to me, time spent alone was about as important as time spent with others, if not moreso. I decided I would use those two days to cultivate a healthy longing for other people. 

I got on the down train early in the morning with no particular stop in mind to get off at; I just looked out the window, watching the scenery go by. The passengers dwindled at each stop, the average age increased, the tone of the conversations I heard became less casual. Ultimately, it was down to just me and two old people talking about things I couldn’t make any sense of. When they got off at the next station, I followed suit. 

I took a look at a sign at the station and found out I was in a hot springs town. There were many to choose from, and I decided to go for the smallest, cheapest one. The lobby only had a single crane game that wasn’t powered on and a small shop stand. There wasn’t any sign of anyone in the little open-air bath, and I relaxed there for about an hour. Birds, cicadas, water, sky, clouds; there wasn’t a single thing else. 

The two days passed in a blink. The day after was when I’d planned to go swimming with Nagahora at the beach, which was one of the things I was looking forward to most out of the whole break. I’d gone to look at the sea near-daily for a long time, but I’d never gotten to go there to swim and play with a bunch of friends. And the week after that was Chigusa’s rehearsal for the summer festival. I didn’t have any plans beyond those yet, but those two alone were more exciting than my last three summer vacations put together. 

I think I’d gotten pretty carried away. 

When the home phone rang that night, Chigusa’s face came to mind. The day of the closing ceremony, as we left, she whispered some numbers into my ear. It was her home phone number. 

“You never know when plans will suddenly come up, so…” 

And so she asked me for my phone number. Thus, I’d been hoping she would call me eventually. 

Having completely dropped my guard, when I heard that woman’s voice on the phone, I felt like I’d been whacked in the back of the head with a blunt object. It was a failure unimaginable for the old me. I tried to steel myself for attacks from any angle, at any time, but the peacefulness of these past weeks had really made me slacken. 

“Sorry to have gotten out of touch,” the woman said in a clear voice that could be mistaken for a call center call if I didn’t know better. “Were you disappointed it wasn’t a call from the girl in your class?” 

“No, I was figuring you’d be calling sooner or later,” I bluffed. 

“Is that right,” she snickered. “How goes it? Are things going well with Hajikano?” 

“You’re asking that with full knowledge of the situation, aren’t you?” 

She turned to foam and vanished. 

This was the moment I realized my priorities had changed. 

I’ll be truthful. Upon learning that I had to confront the issue of Hajikano once more, the first thought I had was “Great - here I was trying to get closer with Nagahora and Chigusa, and then this happens.” 

Yes, at this point, I began to see Hajikano, my initial objective, as a bother. To be blunt, I didn’t want to worry myself with Hajikano ever again. I was frankly fed up with it. 

What about Hajikano did I like? Maybe anyone who was kind to me would have done the job. After all, wasn’t I slowly becoming captivated by Chigusa Ogiue, too? Was I not feeling that if I had time to smooth-talk Hajikano, I should devote it to hanging out with Nagahora and his friends? 

…To make a self-justification, people pampering me for the first time in my life simply threw me off, and made me forget the importance of things. It was a mistaken thought, as foolish as cutting off your hand to take care of a pain in your fingertip. In fact, the reason I wanted to be a better person in the first place was to be someone who Hajikano would consider to be on her level. Yet at some point, the steps became the goal. I lost sight of the thing that was most important to me. 

Though in a state of confusion, my feet carried me to Hajikano’s house. It was true that I wanted to deepen my bond with Nagahora and the rest. But that wouldn’t do me much good if I was dead. I had no choice. There was no other way to save myself except by earning Hajikano’s love. 

It was 8 PM. As I crossed the bridge, a two-car train came down the track. There was a brief silence once the train left, but just as my ears got used to it, the bugs came back little by little. 

I didn’t have any plan resembling a plan. It seemed impossible to me that anyonecould budge Hajikano as she was now. She had completely shut herself away. Hiding in her shell, refusing all communication. Made to despair by life to the point of putting her head in a noose. What could someone like me say to someone like her? 

Besides, it wasn’t even what to say that was important - it was who said it. Because it was none other than Hajikano who had soothed me back in grade school, saying “I think your birthmark’s wonderful, Fukamachi.” Even if someone else had said the same thing, it would probably only sound like a cheap consolation. Hearing it from Hajikano, who had no need to curry favor or get in good with anyone, made those words feel genuine. There was at least one person in this world who didn’t think poorly of my birthmark - she let me believe that. 

Could I do the same thing? Me saying “I think your birthmark’s wonderful, Hajikano,” well, I doubted I could expect any decent results. And before that - did I really, earnestly think her birthmark was wonderful? It was an undeniable fact that seeing her face that night in the moonlight, I was chilled by the feeling that something precious had been tarnished. Most importantly, wasn’t I overjoyed about the disappearance of my own birthmark? I was leading a fulfilling life for the first time now that it was gone… How could I speak well of Hajikano’s? 

I was blocked on every side. Going to Hajikano’s house felt like going to accept a death sentence. Even if I could meet with her, surely all I’d get is a reaffirmation of how much she hated me. Mud thrown on my memories, disappointment, a reminder that the girl I adored had been lost to me forever. 

My feet grew heavy, and my steps got shorter with each one. Yet as long as I kept walking, however long it might take, I would eventually reach my destination. Standing at Hajikano’s front door, I rang the doorbell with a feeling of desperation. If her parents answered, what kind of excuse would I make up? If they told me through a door chain, “Don’t come here again,” what would I do then? I didn’t have any strategies in mind for those. Just get this over with, I thought. 

The one who appeared at the door was Hajikano’s sister, Aya. 

“Oh, it’s you.” She remembered me, it seemed. “What’d you come for at this hour?” 

“Didn’t I say you shouldn’t bother with her anymore?” 

“Miss Aya.” I spared no time turning to my trump card. “Are you aware that Yui has attempted suicide once?” 

Aya’s expression didn’t change. But that, in fact, indicated her unease. 

After taking a moment to recover, she spoke aggressively. 

“Yeah, I know. But what about it?” 

With hands behind her back, she closed the door, searched her right pocket, then searched the opposite pocket for a crumpled cigarette pack. She began to smoke; it gave off a sharp peppermint smell. 

“To be honest, I don’t care if she doesn’t go to school, or tries to kill herself. If she doesn’t wanna go, sure, don’t go. If she wants to die, go ahead and die.” 

“…Surely you don’t seriously think that way?” 

“Oh, I think I’m thinking it pretty seriously. Yosuke Fukamachi, right? You have any experience having a sibling who’s way too good?” 

“No,” I shook my head. 

“When your sister’s like that, to be frank, it makes you wanna die. I’ve heard people talking behind my back, like "why is the older one so average when the younger one’s so pretty?”, a million times. “Sisters? Huh, you don’t look anything alike,” they smirk - that’s not a rare occurrence either. The relatives all fawned over her and paid me no attention. …But as time passed, I stopped caring about what other people thought. I’m able to just say “think what you want to think” now.“ 

With a distant gaze, Aya let out a puff of smoke. 

"Except the problem of me always comparing my sister’s life to mine has stuck around to the end. While I’m desperate to win over just one guy, she brings in ten. Lest I think a good-looking guy wanted to talk to me, the second sentence is just "Introduce me to your sister.” I studied my butt off to get into a high school she treats as a backup. Whaddya think of that? Even if she has no ill will, doesn’t it seem natural to wish she’d go poof?“ 

”…But, even then,“ I managed to interrupt. "You really wouldn’t care if your own sister killed herself?” 

“I wouldn’t. No doubt I’d be relieved,” she replied without hesitation. “So that’s that. Sorry that you walked all this way - could you leave?” 

After stomping out her cigarette, Aya wordlessly turned her back to my glare and reached for the door. 

She turned back and asked, “First things first, what can you even do? You couldn’t do anything last time. You just jumbled up her feelings more and left. If that didn’t teach you to give up, you must have some secret plan this time, huh?” 

Seeing that I wasn’t answering, Aya snorted and shut the door in my face. 

There was a mole under her eye. 

“Nah, it hurts.” 

“Sure, if that made it heal up faster…” 

Hajikano squatted and stared at my knee. She wasn’t directly touching it, but I felt kind of ticklish and said “don’t stare at it like that.” 

She stood up and looked into my eyes. 

“Yosuke, even when bad things happen, it never shows on your face.” 

“No, it’s bad.” She shook her head and put her hands on my shoulders. 

“Okay, how about this? When you’re really in trouble, Yosuke, but you don’t feel like you can ask for help, you can give me a signal instead.” 

The next morning, I was shaken awake by Aya. 

“Don’t tell me, you stayed out here all night?”, she asked in amazement. 

“Are you an idiot?” 

“Correct. Yui needs me, you see.” 

“Hmph. Well, isn’t that swell.” She grabbed my shoulder and brushed me aside. “See ya, I’m in a hurry here.” 

The next night, and the night after, Hajikano left home at about the same time to go look at the stars. During the day, I went around inspecting the ruins to ensure she wouldn’t get hurt; stomping on weak floors to open clearly-visible holes, sweeping away glass shards and sharp splinters on her usual route to the roof. 

There were all sorts of things laying about in the rooms. Bottles with drinks still in them, broken tableware, torn curtains, stained futons, broken fans, TVs with holes in the screen, ropes with unknown use, piles of adult magazines, snapped umbrellas. I’d expect it to be a breeding ground for bugs and rats, but oddly, I didn’t see even a single spider. Maybe even bugs don’t come near a truly dead place. 


And so summer break proceeded, day by day. 


Chapter end

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