Institutionalized manipulation and lies
Reciprocation of freedom only live in your eyes
You hate me, don't you?
I know you hate me just as much as you hate yourself
— Kendrick Lamar, The Blacker the Berry
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4 / 12 / 2016
Sakamoto's eyes bleed as he breathes and hisses and starts letting out a little laughter of his own. Kamoshida bolts it and leaves his guards behind, leaves them to deal with Blackbeard and the cat.
They're both sandwiched between golden knights; three at their left, three at their right. Hallway's narrow, far too narrow for Sakamoto or the cat to run past them. Yoshizawa and I are stuck behind bars that'll fry us the second we touch them.
The three knights on their left transform completely. The middle one (I hear Eligor being whispered in my head) turns into a large knight riding a horse that's twice the size it ought to be. It wears red armor and a horned helm, wielding a lance that could run through three people like a barbecue stick. Its allies each transform into knights in silver armor (Berith), riding upon blood-red stallions and wielding steel spears.
"Mercurius!"
Cat's smart enough to send a gust of wind upon the soldiers to their right, sending them tumbling away from all the rest of us. Allowing Sakamoto time to get the three horsemen at his right.
"Blackbeard! Take 'em down!"
Blackbeard charges at Eligor, and the red horseman charges back. Things end up rather predictably; Eligor's able to run his lance through Blackbeard's bones and out the back of his coat. But by the time that's happened, Blackbeard's steel bowsprit has driven itself through the neck of Eligor's horse, piercing right through Eligor's crimson armor as well.
Whatever pain Sakamoto's feeling, he doesn't let it show. He just smiles and laughs and lets his bloodshot eyes flare wide, "Blackbeard!"
Blackbeard grips his bony hands upon the two large horns on Eligor's helm. Being a skeleton, he lacks all facial features, yet somehow his jawbones curve upward to make a smile.
I pull Yoshizawa away from the bars then, on instinc.
What starts as a spark flares into a full blown lightning storm, burning and searing and spreading through the knights' armors. It would've surely fried us too, were we as close to the bars as we had been. Over the flashes and cracks of thunder I hear Sakamoto laugh and cry and scream.
The knights are fried, smoke erupting out their eyeholes and any open space in their suits, no matter how narrow.
Sakamoto hisses and seethes, blood spewing from his eyes like tears, and as Blackbeard vanishes in a flurry of flames the cat shouts, "Kazuya! Blow the bars open!"
Cat pulls Sakamoto away as the other beasts charge, the knights-now-monsters raging and frothing at the teeth just for a chance to devour the two of them.
BOOM.
Only for them all to get blown away into blood and gore, along with the bars.
Bits and pieces of their destroyed bodies line the walls, their blood and guts piled up at our feet. Yoshizawa's anxious to go over, far too anxious. But she does find it in herself to wade her feet through the insides of mythological beasts. I follow her shortly behind and I see Sakamoto. I see him, shuddering and huffing and wheezing his lungs out. Any second now, he looks like his body's gonna give out.
I grab his shoulders.
He looks at me, like it took a second for it to register. Real tears, start forming at the edges of his bloody eyes. "I'm never gonna stop makin' him pay."
"Alright, then."
We hear more knights coming from the staircase, we see them shuffling down, they see all their murdered brethren and transform into abominations that belong to the human unconscious, and I smile and Sakamoto smiles and Yoshizawa grips her mask and the Cat's fur turns to quills.
I say "Persona," and make the halls run red with their remains.
I watch myself, and I watch the rest of them follow me through this damned castle. My head's all too numb and my body acts all on its own. It all carries me back two years, where I watched myself nearly murder a man to save a girl I didn't even know.
By the time I'm looking through my own eyes again, we're all in the exact same alleyway I'd brought us to the first time we exited Kamoshida's Palace.
"S-senpai..."
I turn to Yoshizawa and I see she's almost on the verge of tears. Of course she's scared; her trembling legs show that much. But from the look in her eyes, she seems more disappointed than anything else.
Sakamoto heaves and clutches his chest and keeps a hand to the wall--after spewing out his guts right in front of us he throws himself against the wall behind him, sliding down half-dead.
"Sakamoto-senpai!"
"H-holy shit...," his eyes are wide and he's staring a thousand miles ahead, right through Yoshizawa, who's knelt down to get herself level with him. "I can't believe I just did all that..."
"Are you alright?"
"I, I, I think so," he stammers, putting a hand to his face. "But God...I could sleep forever..."
She chuckles, "I'm glad you're okay... we're lucky we all made it out in one piece."
But Sakamoto's features twist in frustration, "Dammit, I wish we coulda settled things then and there. Kamoshida's still livin' it large in his own head and I'm here pukin' my guts out..."
Meaning we didn't kill him yet. Good to know. "Take what you can get."
"Damn...," he chuckles a little, hanging his head low, before balling his hands up into fists and rising to his feet. "Dragged you both around a lot, huh...? I'm sorry 'bout all that."
"No need. We chose to come with you."
Yoshizawa smiles at me, then at him, "And it wasn't a total loss. Now, we have a chance to put a stop to all the abuse!"
"Hell yeah! I totally remember the faces of the guys Kamoshida was treating like slaves! Once we make 'em fess up, he's done for!"
"Highly doubt that."
A high-pitched voice echoes my thoughts and we turn to face it; a small black cat with a white muzzle and paws.
"Wh-what the...?"
"I know you're having some kinda power high and all, but you shouldn't delude yourself."
"That voice...is that you, Morgana?" cries Yoshizawa.
"In the flesh. Or fur, I guess. Ain't you happy to see me?"
"Th-the cat's talkin'!?"
"I am NOT a cat. This is just what happened when I came to this world."
"Y-you came to our world!?" Sakamoto gasps, "Does that mean you've got a phone!?"
Holy shit, this guy has no right having survived as long as he has.
"You don't need one when you're at my level."
"Shit, shit, shit, this is so weird, what the hell even--?"
"Senpai, after everything that's happened, I don't think seeing a talking cat is the freakiest thing to happen to you today."
"Yeah, but, I'm still trynna just process all this Palace and Persona crap, and now we got a talking cat on our--"
"I am not a cat. And speaking of Palaces...I wanna reiterate that it's doubtful you're gonna actually resolve anything by talking to the victims. That said, I advocate for a much more permanent solution."
"We're not killing him," grunts Yoshizawa.
"I don't plan for you to," says the cat. "But do you really think pressuring his victims to speak up will help stop him?"
"Can't hurt to try," says Sakamoto.
"Well. You can always steal his Treasure."
"Treasure...?"
Something in me screams to shut the cat up and tell them both to ignore it. A better part lets the cat keep talking.
"That castle, his Palace—is formed as a result of his distorted desires. In short, his desire for something led him to view the school as his castle, and the students his slaves. At the source of this Palace lies a manifestation of the desire that caused all this in the first place. Once we get rid of that, AKA his Treasure, we'll be able to get rid of the distortion at the root of his heart."
Sakamoto's eyes perk wide open. "For real!? Wait, what would that mean, like, he'd turn good or something?"
"Kamoshida's distorted desires will be undone. All the guilt and all the shame held down by the weight of his own depravity—it'll spring out from his heart and he won't be able to control it."
"So he'll be...a changed man?" Yoshizawa asks.
"Though a change of heart will be triggered in him, any and all misdeeds he's committed in the real world will still have happened. But he'll be unable to bear the weight of them, so he'll just turn himself in to the police himself!"
Sakamoto rubs the back of his head, "That sounds awesome, but..."
"But what?"
"What's the catch?"
The cat, without hesitation, says, "If things go too far, the owner of the Palace may suffer a mental shutdown in the real world. Death is indeed a possibility."
"A mental shutdown...?" exclaims Yoshizawa, appalled.
"Erasing a Palace means triggering a change of heart, essentially. After all, humans are nothing without their desires. The will to eat, to sleep, to love, to hate, to fear...to even wish to live, or die. Those are the stakes involved."
"Why would we even go for that, if there's that kind of risk involved...!?" she cries out.
Cat cooly explains, "Because if we do things right, then things'll go smoothly."
"Or kill himself out of shame," I grunt. They all turn to me. Yoshizawa in particular looks particularly unnerved. But I continue. "Like I said. You go through with this, you walk on a tightrope."
"We can't kill the guy!" Sakamoto then cries out. "I-I mean...if we did, then...!"
"Sheesh, I come all this way, and this is what I get," the cat grumbles in annoyance. "It's not like anyone'll figure it out! Besides, aren't you willing to face those kinds of risks!? You all have Personas! You can fight! You're the only ones who can!"
"What...?" mutters Yoshizawa.
"Now that you've attained a will of rebellion, you can rise up high and above anyone with a Palace! It should be no problem for any of you!"
"That ain't the point!" Sakamoto again cuts in. "Geez, you make it sound so easy..."
At that point, I hear a taut wire frame snapping in two, and my mouth speaks what I tried to keep inside. "Who cares?"
Sakamoto and Yoshizawa turn to face me. "What did you say...?"
"This guy's a malignant narcissist. Y'think anyone's gonna be sad to see him go?"
"You can't be serious," Yoshizawa huffs, "we aren't going to kill him!"
I glare at her, at them both, "It's not like he doesn't deserve it."
"It ain't about what he deserves! If we just ran around doing whatever we wanted, we'd be no better than Kamoshida! And besides, I thought you hated goin' into Palaces. You didn't want to be anywhere near this shit, like, an hour ago. Now you're talking like we're the crazy ones for not wanting to kill--"
"Going back into his Palace is the last thing I want. Every single time I've stepped foot in that goddamn place I remember things I wish I could forget. But grow the hell up. He's been in this school for years. You really think he's smart enough to keep it all under wraps by himself?"
"I'll have to agree with Kazuya. Do you really think that investigating's gonna get you anything?" Cat asks. "Think about it, if Kamoshida's desires are this distorted, then he must've been at this sorta thing for a while now. You'd think someone in the student body or the faculty would've caught onto his abuses of power by now."
"Who in their right mind would wanna help this asshole harass and abuse his own students?"
"People who know Shujin's only worth looking at, as long as they've got him attached to their name. And besides. Considering everything he's done to the male students, I'd hate to know what he does to the girls."
Yoshizawa tells me sternly, "We can't assume that."
"I think we can take a guess."
"We can't guess that, we need evidence!"
"His Shadow planned to have his way with you the instant he saw you."
"We need something more concrete than that--!"
"His Shadow represents literally everything he doesn't wanna see about himself. It's what he thinks and feels and knows every goddamn day. And you're saying we need more evidence?"
"Jumping into his Palace...it's not the only option available to us right now." She glares at me firmly. "We can still investigate people, look into the situation ourselves. We can't put somebody's life on the line. That shouldn't even be an option. Not when there's still more we can do."
"We're not gonna kill him," declares Sakamoto.
Cat sighs, "Look, if you wanna investigate, investigate. I can't really stop you. Just know...humans are animals, first and foremost. Though they've evolved to the point where they can discern right from wrong, justice from injustice...in the end, the best people and the worst people will stop at nothing to get what they want."
Cat runs up a fire escape ladder and its black form sinks into the shade of the wall and the bars of the iron. After a few seconds of silence, we're sure it's gone.
"What did you do?" Yoshizawa suddenly asks me, again, the second time these past few days, "How do you even know about all of this?"
I glare in Yoshizawa and Sakamoto's direction, but not at them. I glare at the green-eyed corpse standing behind them, with hollow eyes and pale skin and open wrists.
I only say, "Guess," before picking up my bag and heading out of the alleyway.
Sakamoto grabs my arm, "Hold on for a sec—"
"Don't touch me, you—"
"Please help us! I know we can do this! We can stop him here and now and we won't have to go back into his Palace, but we need your help!"
"Did you hear a fucking word I just said?"
" There's gonna be a sports rally tomorrow! We can go to the people under Kamoshida, talk to them about the abuse! We can investigate and we dig up dirt! With a Palace as effed up as his is, he's bound to have let something slip!"
"And if nothing has?"
"We're bound to find something—"
"And what if we don't? Should we just let him be?"
"I DON'T KNOW! But I'm not gonna cross that line without knowing I tried everything I could!"
I growl at him, at them both, "I'll help you. I'll help you find the victims and see if they can spill their guts, as unlikely as it'll ever be. But you're gonna cross that line. And you're gonna cross that line knowing that literally everything you tried to do otherwise was a waste of goddamn time. By then, you'll be wishing you'd just finished it while you had the chance."
Neither Sakamoto nor Yoshizawa are able to say a thing as I leave them behind.
.
.
.
She follows me. I can feel her staring.
Between the flashbacks and the freaking out and the getting the shit kicked out of me, I hadn't paid much attention to current goings-on in Shujin. So before heading back home, I pry a flier off a bulletin board and read it as I board the trains.
Recommended by Kamoshida. Commemoration of the volleyball team's successes in the field. Lasts from after lunch till the end of the day. Meaning no classes in the afternoon, meaning time to interrogate people, meaning time for us three to waste trying to convince people to confess.
Sure enough Kamoshida's a big enough name such that he's the guy who wrote the sports section on Shujin's website. Included on the volleyball subsection are a set of notable names and faces who've made it somewhat big on both the male and female teams. Will have to look into them when tomorrow hits.
Should've gotten their numbers. But what can you do?
"How was school?" Maruki asks, as I enter through the doorway.
"Fine," is all I tell him. "Not hungry."
"Not hungry--?"
I slam shut the door to my room right in his face and I turn to my bed and I see her.
Her green eyes are wide and alive, and she's smiling at me, the edges of her mouth perking up over the red scarf she still has around her neck. She's wearing an overcoat and some dark blue jeans and she's over me, hovering. The frays in her scarf brushing against the side of my hand. The curls of her long hair waft over my fingers and the green of her eyes is filled with life, such that I've not seen out of them in ages.
And it hits me. In the months I've been without her, I've forgotten her voice. I've forgotten how she sounded. Whenever I remember her speaking to me, it's never her voice that I hear; it's the voice of the Harlot, the woman in her purple robes.
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4 / 13 / 2016
Before we know it, we're taken to the gym. We're all of us in red jackets and sweatpants, and we're watching people shuffle around and scream and shout and jump and run. Not knowing a single thing.
There's two teams. Volleyball. One's full of students on the right, the other's got a teacher in their midst. The crowd's cheering as the ball's being tossed around the court with abandon. The aforementioned teacher is the ruler of the castle himself, and even I can tell that the smile he has on his face is one made of plastic. But the crowds cheer him on all the same. Pride of the school.
Kamoshida is the most excited, seemingly. He jumps around like the world's his playground, and it pretty much is. To him, it all is. The people are his servants, the teachers are those who let him do as he pleases. The ball is his weapon, and when it's in his court he dominates. He returns it every time it comes, never once letting up on the offensive. He's not a young man. But he's a strong one. And that's why he's the King.
Then I hear a smack.
Someone's on the ground. Volleyball's bouncing plainly on the ground. Everyone, even the silent ones, lurch forward in surprise. Kamoshida's already there, calling for a nurse. For someone to tend to this poor young man. He's trying to salvage the situation he so obviously caused on purpose, the egotistical mongoloid. And judging by how the crowd so easily dismisses it as a mistake, it works.
The meek, blue-haired young boy is taken out of the gym and the world continues cheering the king. He's smiling, sweating, grinning at the masses. And I'm watching it all happen, waiting for my chance.
When they allow for a break, we three convene near some vending machines around Shujin's courtyard.
Ryuji kicks some soda out from its box before handing it to us, "Asshole planned that, God. Like he knows he'll get away with it, smug piece o' shit..."
"Stay focused," Yoshizawa says. "We've got limited time to act, here."
"I know, but...shit, he's acting like a king here, too. Actin' all concerned for Mishima, even after throwin' a volleyball right in his face. Makes me wanna puke."
"Where are we searching?" I ask him.
"Guys most likely to talk are the ones I knew were just as pissed at him as I was, way back when. One of 'em's in Class D."
"My class?"
"Yeah. Name's Matsumoto. Knew him back in track. Switched over to volleyball once it ended. Showed some skill at it."
"Where should I look?" asks Yoshizawa.
"There were some first-years in the shuffle. I think one of 'em was named Kurosawa? See if you can talk to him."
"Kurosawa...yes. That name sounds familiar, I think I've seen him every now and again. He looks so sad, when people try talking to him..."
"Goddamn. Okay. I'll go after a third-year. Name's Nishiki. We were kinda close, back then. Dunno how he'd see me, now, though..."
"We good to go?"
"Yeah. Yeah we are," says Sakamoto.
"Let's do our best!" exclaims Yoshizawa, fist closed.
I get my phone out, "Numbers."
"Oh, right!"
Once all that's done, we all split up.
.
.
.
Obviously Sakamoto isn't gonna get very far.
Way I see it he's gonna muscle in on other people's territory so blatantly that he's only going to make those he's planning to interrogate defensive. Obviously, there are victims to question and people to talk to. Even I have managed to spot at least a few people from the volleyball team sporting some nasty bruises and wrappings over their faces. But the thing is, with those people, is that they've come so far. Perhaps even too far.
They've endured so much already. Being under Kamoshida's wing has some benefits. He's participated in the Olympics. What kind of athlete would you be to pass up a chance to serve under an Olympian? Sakamoto would be the answer to that, and nobody likes to be like him. So they take the pain and deny it.
Yoshizawa'll definitely fare a little better, but she's new meat. They'll probably blow her off with cliches, You don't understand. You're a new student. You don't know what it takes, how things work here. And so on.
On the sports team section of Shujin's website, they contain pictures of MVPs, all their accomplishments, and none of their failures. Night before today, I decided to look up some of them. One of them caught my eye; a pretty sort of girl. Plain, yet not unattractive. Ponytail, brown eyes, small sort of demure smile.
And when I saw her earlier today, what with the dark spots on her head and the eyes that looked like mine, when I saw her finishing up her time during the rally and huddling over to the lockers, I just knew she and Kamoshida had some sort of thing to do with each other.
It takes me a while, but I see her and I stop in my tracks. I see her now. Standing at a set of glass doors. Doing nothing but staring ahead. And I walk. She sees me after a few moments. She blinks.
"What...?" The girl is wearing a red sweatjacket and sweatpants. Her voice is weak, and her eyes are somewhat strained. "Oh. I'm in the way, aren't I...? Sorry..."
"Are you hurt?"
She doesn't say anything for a moment, just grabbing her arm as she gets all uncomfortable. "Um...well..." My shoulders sag as I'm reminded of someone. She stares at me with her dull eyes, "Hm...you don't look familiar. Could you...be that transfer student from Class D...?"
If she doesn't want to talk to me, I'll have to find another lead. I'm sure there's other girls Kamoshida's victimized. "Yeah. I am."
"Um, this might not be any of my business...," she says. "But...don't let the rumors get to you, okay?"
At this, I narrow my eyes at her, "Why do you say that?"
"Well, I've helped with a similar situation before...," then her eyes close the way they'd close when you're in pain, "my best friend's often misunderstood too, all because of her looks... Ah, s-sorry, I didn't mean to drag on like that."
I breathe a little. "Can we talk? It'll only be for a bit."
She blinks, "May I ask what about...?"
I realize too late this is gonna be harder than I thought.
.
.
.
Bench in the courtyard. Both of us, sitting down; she's drinking a bottle of water I bought her.
"Your name is Shiho Suzui, correct?" I ask her.
She nods, "How did you know...?"
"Website. You're on the volleyball team, under Suguru Kamoshida."
She flinches at the mention of his name, but quickly recovers: "Yes..."
"I'm sorry to ask you what I'm about to ask you so suddenly. But it's very important that you answer. If this conversation gets too much, you can tell me and we can drop it then and there."
She blinks. "What do you want to know...?"
"Is Suguru Kamoshida abusing people in the volleyball team?"
She freezes up for a moment. She opens her mouth, obviously jolted and trying to cough up a reply, probably a lie. Then she reclines in her seat, holding herself. She says this next, and she says it so quietly I barely even hear her: "Why are you even...?"
"If he is...I can't just let him go on the way he is."
She looks at me warily. "How did you know?" she asks then.
"People coming from the gym in bandages. It's obvious, once you really get a look."
"Why are you trying to stop it? Y-you're a new student, why're you...?" then she stops herself, her voice turning monotonous. "It's none of your business..."
"Sorry to say, but it is," I reply. "Hoping to stop him peacefully."
"Stop him...," she mutters weakly. "You can't stop him."
I don't reply for a while. "And why is that?"
"Everyone knows. Teachers. Other students. I heard even other people's parents, they...," she shakes her head. "It's in the system. You can't stop it. Everyone just keeps their heads down, because they know not to cause trouble. How're you even planning on stopping this? What can you do?"
"Get evidence. Gradually get people on my side. Convince them to talk. Starting with you."
"They won't talk. The only reason I'm even telling you this is because I know it won't take off. They've been faced with so much. They're not gonna give it all up now. Not even if you record their confessions."
I blink at her. Removing the phone from my pocket. "Now, how'd you know about this?"
"Thought popped in my head when you talked to me about getting evidence. Didn't think you actually... What're you even doing this for?"
"I hate him. And I hate people like him.
She chuckles a little, "I suppose that's as good a reason as any."
"I'm doing this to make sure he gets put behind bars without much issue."
"You can't avoid that," she replies. "He made it big before coming here. You putting him behind bars'll cause panic for the school. Even if you expose everything he's hiding—" she shudders again, suddenly grasping her upper arms, "—you won't...you won't change anything..."
My eyes widen at her. "Did...did he...?"
She doesn't answer me. And that's the only answer I'll ever need.
"You won't change anything, not like this. Nobody'll help you," she mutters, trying to hold back something crawling up her throat. "Nobody's going to help you..."
"What's going on here?"
She and I turn. Girl with pigtails. Foreign. Platinum-blonde. Scowling at me. "Shiho...?"
"A-Ann," she stammers out.
This Ann girl pulls Suzui aside, glaring at me. She quickly turns to Suzui, asks her, "Are you okay? What happened, why're you crying?" Suzui puts her hands to her cheeks and looks shocked. Ann turns to me, "What did you do?"
"I was just asking her questions."
"Don't play dumb with me!" she grunts. "If you hurt her, I'll—!"
"A-Ann!" Suzui cries out, clutching her friend's arm. "P-please...he didn't do anything...!"
Takamaki immediately stops. She turns to Suzui, looks at her, and immediately calms herself. But she turns back to me, glares, and her face becomes unlike a person's. She holds Suzui's hand then, pulling her away from me as the bell rings and we have to return to our tasks as students. She leaves me as I stand there, nowhere near my intended goal. Not even a single step closer to what I wish to accomplish.
Someone with green eyes is watching over me. Before she can even say a word, I brush past her and focus myself on deciding just what I could do next, with the information I've been given.
.
.
.
An hour left before everyone heads home.
When Sakamoto or Yoshizawa don't appear for ten minutes, I go to find them. When I do, they're stuck in the middle of a conversation with someone else. The conversation isn't going very well.
"...what are you planning to do to Mr. Kamoshida?"
Ann Takamaki, again.
I've heard the rumors. About Kamoshida, about Takamaki, about his dealings with girls. The boys snigger. The girls say they brush the rumors off, but the stinkeye they often give to Takamaki betrays them. Takamaki and Kamoshida are rather close, but she's repulsed by him and he either doesn't know or doesn't care. Something Sakamoto of course hasn't picked up on.
"I see, I getcha," Sakamoto says then. "Of course you'd ask that. You're all buddy-buddy with him, after all."
"This has nothing to do with you, Sakamoto!"
"If ya found out what he's been doing behind your back, you'd dump 'im right away."
At that point, Takamaki's eyes widen. "Behind my back...?"
Sakamoto doesn't answer her with anything else than, "You wouldn't get it..."
Takamaki grunts then, after a long period of silence, "People are talking about you. I was just trying to warn you, that's all. You wanna be a jerk about it, then fine. I don't care."
She leaves in a huff, not even registering my presence as he brushes past me. Sakamoto just watches her leave, as he doesn't know what else he can say or do to her.
He grunts out, "Why's she gotta be so aggressive all the time...?"
"You could be a little less rough around the edges, yourself, senpai," Yoshizawa cuts in. "We could have gotten information out of her."
"She doesn't know a thing about Kamoshida's skeevier stuff...," he groans, rubbing the back of his head. "'Sides, she's prolly willing to defend him. His reputation goes down the toilet, so does hers. Even more than it already has..."
I say as I approach them both, "She hates his guts."
"You sure?"
"Saw her speaking with him in the hallway once. She couldn't stand being near him."
He hangs his head low. "Damn. Okay. Shit. I messed up."
"How do you know of her, anyway?" Yoshizawa asks then. "You two seemed...familiar with each other, at least."
He shakes his head, "We just both went to the same middle school. Anyways, about actual important stuff...I got nothin' on my end. No luck finding anything about Kamoshida from any o' the students under 'im. You got nothing, either?"
"Nobody was willing to tell me anything, either," Yoshizawa replies. "They said a new student wouldn't understand. Kurosawa even pointed me to other people he knew...no luck. What about you, senpai?"
"Ditto," I tell them, though I've only spoken to one person.
Sakamoto growls and scratches his head, "One last lead on my mind..."
"Who?"
"Yuuki Mishima," is his reply. "I always see the guy with bruises on 'im. But Kamoshida uses him often, as a lackey. Telling other students what is and isn't going to happen. Events, changes in the curriculum. Whenever he needs to talk to someone for any reason, he has Mishima tell them to go to the faculty office. Mishima puts up with it...like everyone else does."
Fine then, "Let's go find 'im before he leaves."
.
.
.
After school, we three see this Mishima at the entrance gates, walking out with his bag in his hand. He's got bandages over his face and his arm, and he looks like every single step he takes breaks something inside him. Sakamoto's the first to talk to him, and of course when he does it he gets all up in his face. "Hey, got a second?"
Damn, he must've done this with everyone.
"Sakamoto...?" Mishima mutters, then seeing me. "A-and Hikawa-san, too...!? What--?"
We see the dark wrinkles in his eyes, the flecks of purple and red settling on his cheeks. His voice is weak and it takes him a lot of effort just to talk, and we can even see the welt on his cheek from when Kamoshida knocked him out cold with a volleyball to his face.
"Sorry for keeping you, senpai, but we'd just like a word," Yoshizawa says to him.
Of course, Sakamoto cuts in again. "Kamoshida's been coaching you, right? You sure it's not just physical abuse?"
"C-certainly not!"
We see it plain in his eyes. And on his face, on his arm, and they'd probably see it all over his body if he was naked right then and there.
Sakamoto's gruff again, "What're you talking all polite for? We saw him spike you today, right in the face."
"That was just...," he whimpers then, his voice cracking just a little, "because I wasn't good at the sport..."
"That doesn't explain all the other bruises you got," Sakamoto says, sighing in something like concern.
Mishima glares at him then. "They're from practice!" he shouts quickly.
This isn't getting us anywhere. This isn't doing anything. Unless something changes the game, we're gonna be stuck with nothing for the thousandth time today.
But then the game changes.
"What's going on here?" Kamoshida steps, suddenly, as if he'd poofed in from the ether. He then turns to Mishima, "Mishima, isn't it time for practice?"
Mishima's face crinkles as he replies, "I-I'm not feeling well today..."
Kamoshida just shakes his head. "Maybe you're better off quitting, then. You're never gonna improve that crappy form, unless you show up to practice."
"Didn't you hear?" grunts Sakamoto then, getting up into Kamoshida's face now. "He ain't feeling well."
"Well, Mishima?" Kamoshida just says, like Sakamoto's not even there, "You coming to practice or not?"
Mishima just caves, then and there. "I'll go..."
Kamoshida nods that slimy nod, and he turns to Sakamoto then, "Any more trouble, you'll be gone from this school for good." Sakamoto just curses then, as Kamoshida turns to me, "Same goes for you. Didn't the principal tell you to keep in line?"
He's smirking and he's laughing and chuckling, trying to pass it off and look like a rational human being. Which makes me less rational.
"You have an amazing spike."
They look at me like I've got a deathwish.
"Yoshizawa. I thought we had a careful discussion about hanging around delinquents. They may seem nice to you, but make no mistake. They're little monsters and they'll drag you straight down with 'em." She doesn't respond, doesn't even emote at that, and Kamoshida just shakes his head then, "Just don't get in the way of my practice. All these unsettling rumors are making the students anxious, after all."
"That was your own fault," mutters Sakamoto.
"This won't get us anywhere. Let's go, Mishima." He turns his back on the three of them, and then tells the three of them, "Shujin Academy is a place where those with aspirations come to learn. Unworthy students like yourselves have no right to be here. Get with the goddamn program or else."
And all Mishima can say is, "Yes, sir."
Kamoshida then leaves, Sakamoto muttering, "He's gonna pay for this..."
But Mishima says, "There's no point. Proving that he's physically abusing us...is meaningless. Everybody knows. The principal, our parents...they all know. They all keep quiet."
"This has gotta be a joke...!" is all Sakamoto can say. He's horrified, and so's Yoshizawa. But Mishima keeps talking.
"Don't be a pain. You don't understand what I'm going through. You should know, of all people, that nothing you'll do is gonna help."
He then leaves us three there. And all at once, neither Sakamoto nor Yoshizawa know what to say.
"What'd I tell you?" I brush past them both and get back to my classroom, retrieving my things.
.
.
.
4 / 15 / 2016
Sakamoto and Yoshizawa haven't spoken to me since the thirteenth. I intend to confront them about the matter later in the day. But my intentions stop meaning much right before the last class of first period.
When it happens, I'm having a class.
I think of Shiho Suzui. Suffering, weeping in silence and in pain. Her supposed friend not even knowing what's going on behind the scenes. Ann Takamaki is sitting right in front of me, apathetically staring out the window. She's agitated with me but she doesn't show it. If she only knew. If they all only knew. If it's brought to everyone's attention, shouted out from the top of the world, they'd all lash out. Because nobody wants to say they knowingly supported an ephebophile.
But I'm thinking of things that shouldn't matter. Not this very moment. I should be looking out the window. I should be paying attention to my surroundings. I don't know how my directionless thinking will cost me. Green eyes are looking at me still, but every time I turn away from them they flash with specks of yellow. I shouldn't be keeping my attention on them. I shouldn't be so indulgent in myself. And because of my unrelenting self-pity, I am too late.
It happens quickly, too quickly to make sense. Someone large and lumbering and annoyed at all of us is writing on a chalkboard. But then someone rises up from out of their seat and gawks. He's talking about someone, standing up on a rooftop. Says she's gonna jump, that's what makes all of us check.
I remember my conversation with a girl. I turn to the rooftop and I see her. She's standing there. That girl I spoke to days ago. Ponytail and all. She's standing now. Right behind the gated fence of the rooftop of the school. Everyone soon gets up out of their seats and they just watch because they have to. They watch because they need to see this. They can't do anything else but watch, even as she starts the climb up the fence.
They stare. They gawk. The clamoring begins, Is she gonna jump!? Don't tell me she'll jump! Somebody do something! Everyone says these things but nobody's doing anything, the teacher's trying to corral everyone back in the classroom, but even he's taken aback.
I'm watching it happen.
I'm watching it happen.
What am I doing here?
My legs catch fire as I run faster, my eyes burn in the wind as I force myself forward. Before I know it I'm out of the building, having squeezed my way through people and students all just watching. Before I know it I'm running up the stairs and I see that the people are still just watching. Before I know it her hands are in mine and I'm hunched over the fence and I'm trying to pull her up.
I managed to get to her just as she got herself over the fence.
There's a girl in my hands. Screaming, shocked, terrified. She's wriggling and she's thrashing about, but I won't let her go. My grip is tight around her wrists. She's hanging off the edge of a school building, and she's telling me pleading with me to let her go, using her weight to try and swing herself out of my grip.
But I won't let her go because I can't, because if I do I won't be able to live with myself, because she's watching me from behind, I feel her green eyes on the back of my head, I feel the weight of her gaze pressing down on me and I know that if I ever let what could happen here happen then I'll burn forever. She's crying now, she's screaming and she's bawling, my body's bent in half, my upper body's hanging off the edge and I will not ever let go.
The people from the windows keep watching, even as I manage to muster up the strength to pull myself and her over the fence. She's still thrashing about, screaming, begging me to let her go, and I keep pulling her away. I keep pulling her, I can't let her go. She's pleading with me. Pleading. My grip just gets tighter, I tell her to shut up to stop it to calm down but she won't listen.
And because she doesn't listen, because the creature I've sold my soul to for some reason won't give me the strength to pull a girl up from the edge of a building, the sound she makes when she falls isn't a loud thud. It's more a soft crash.
Of course what comes next is, two people enter through the rooftop door and see me. But I don't see them.
I only see a girl with green eyes standing behind them. She is melancholy, her eyes dull and her brow furrowed. She's looking at me in a way I can't describe; I don't know if she hates me, pities me, or is disappointed in me.
It is at this point I realize that Sakamoto's tapping my shoulder, his voice shaky and raised as he asks me what just happened. I don't know how to answer him, he's grabbing me by my shoulders and screaming things but all I see is Suzui. I keep on rewinding it in my blighted mind, it keeps on searing into my memory as I remember her eyes and her shouts and her tears. Is she dead? I wonder. Is she gone, like Masako and her mother?
I hear the crowds clamoring below, people swarming down at the very bottom of the world. Someone crying. A siren. Old men telling people they need to stay indoors, to reject the sane and rational response that they have, to want to see what kind of disaster that's happened. A girl with platinum blonde pigtails, crying to her friend, staying at her side as she lies there motionlessly.
Kana's standing behind Sakamoto and Yoshizawa, and her green eyes are boring deep into my red ones. I'm looking at her sadly and I don't care who's watching. I don't care about anything else. She's not dead, she'll never be dead, not so long as I remember her and remember what I did.
Through the netted fence I see a boy with welts on his face flee the scene, cringing in terror.
Sakamoto and Yoshizawa immediately take off. Takes me some time to follow after them.
.
.
.
"She jumped and tried to kill herself!" I hear Sakamoto shout, as I enter the boys' locker room.
Mishima's cowering as the two encroach upon him, Yoshizawa telling him, "We won't tell anyone, we promise. We just want to know what happened."
"L-leave me alone...!" he cries, on the verge of tears as he runs his hands through his hair.
I step in suddenly, in the middle of the three, and I grab his hand.
KkRK
"--aaaAAGGHH!"
Pinky finger's bent and broken in a way such that its nail touches the knuckle.
"What the hell!?"
"Senpai!"
"Got nine other fingers," I growl at Mishima. "Stop wasting my time."
"H-he'll kill me...!"
"No, he won't."
KkrK
"AAAAGHHH!!!"
Yoshizawa grabs my arm, "Stop, please just stop--!"
"Talk before I do."
I merely touch his ring finger and he squeals, "She was called out by Mr. Kamoshida!"
Sakamoto's half livid, half horrified. "What...?"
"He'd call somebody up every now and again, to the teacher's room, whenever he'd get pissed off or sometimes for no reason at all," Mishima mutters, clutching his hand and weeping, "He-he'd call someone up to the office and just hit them! He just called Suzui outta the blue last Saturday, and she-she didn't even do anything, but he was pissed, he was fuming...! He, he was so angry and I...I...he made me call her to come to meet him and I...!"
Realization dawns in Sakamoto and Yoshizawa's eyes, and the former looks like he wants to tear the whole goddamn school apart.
"That son of a bitch...!"
And he runs off, into the halls.
"Senpai, wait!"
Yoshizawa runs after him.
Before I leave, I witness Mishima crumple into himself, clutching his hand and whimpering and bitching and moaning, and I just tell him: "Coward."
.
.
.
When Sakamoto inevitably confronts Kamoshida, it goes about as well as I expected it would.
"What did you do to her!?"
PE faculty office. He's screaming, his eyes are bloodshot, and he's hunched over like an animal. Kamoshida's just sitting in a folding chair, staring at his laptop, not even bothering to register any of the students confronting him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Kamoshida shrugs, waving his hand about.
"Don't play dumb with me!" Sakamoto exclaims then, kicking down another folding chair in the vicinity.
Kamoshida then turns to him, glaring now, "That is enough!"
"What you did, it wasn't coaching...!" Yoshizawa growls.
Kamoshida's voice turns guttural as he sneers, "What did you say?"
"You...you ordered Mishima to call Suzui here...!" she shouts, "You drove her to jump off the top of that building!"
"You're going on and on about things you have no proof of."
He's a volleyball coach. Of course he's great at deflection.
"Even if it somehow is exactly as you imagine it to be...in the end, what can you do about it?" He leans in, grinning in Sakamoto's face, "We just got a call from the hospital. Suzui's in a coma, and her chances of recovery are slim. How would someone like that make a statement, I wonder...?" Kamoshida puts a hand to his head, feigning sorrow, "Poor girl. There's little chance of her recovering, I hear..."
Sakamoto's hasty again. He's angry. He's unafraid. The adrenaline makes him want to do things, things that'd send him to jail. He glances at the folding chair he kicked down just a second ago. His fist opens.
"This again...?" Kamoshida murmurs, spotting Sakamoto's glance. "Are we gonna have to resort to another case of self-defense?"
"Shut up," grunts Sakamoto simply. "Just shut up...!"
"Or what? You'll make me?" Kamoshida laughs.
He can't take it anymore. He leans down, grabs the folding chair, lifts it like he's a wrestler in a No-DQ match and is about to just go to town on Kamoshida, Kamoshida who's still smiling because he's seen a million different avenues where the chair could come for him and knows every which way to counter the hits, knows that in the end none of this will matter, that in the end Sakamoto will just be nothing like always.
But then I grab his hand.
"Wh-why're you...!?"
"Don't let him get to you."
"But still...!"
"Good work, Hikawa. That almost makes up for our little run-in a while ago...," he mutters, grinning. He turns to Ryuji then, closing his eyes and folding his arms. "No need to hold back, though. Why not attack me? Oh, but you can't. Of course you can't."
"No. We can."
We all turn to Yoshizawa. She's glaring at him now, her brown eyes turning red in the light of the room.
"We can do something to you that undoes everything you've ever built for yourself up to this point."
Now that gets Kamoshida's attention. He shifts Sakamoto aside, marching close to here, so close she can smell his breath, smell the sweat on him. "You're walking a tightrope here, Yoshizawa. It's almost respectable, really. Standing up for your fellow students...it's sad that you won't see reason. Siding with Ryuji Sakamoto...I thought you, out of these three, would've been the sensible one."
"It's all par for the course for you," she says simply.
"What are you talking about?"
She's shaking like a child but speaking like a soldier. "You can't take criticism, so you throw your opposition to the side. Slap around a few students, because you can make them out to be delinquents anyway. Can't impress anyone your age with being a gym teacher, so you get girls too young and too scared to refuse. You haven't done anything meaningful, not as a teacher, and not even as an athlete. Your name comes up so little in Olympics retrospectives it's hilarious."
"What?"
"What next, you'll kick me and Sakamoto-senpai and Hikawa-senpai and everyone else who tells you right to your face how much of a failure you are? You'll stand there in the gym, watching over all those students who you think admire you when really they make fun of you as much as they would any other teacher? You'll take it and you'll watch, and you'll keep going after more girls who're barely even legal? Excuse me, but quite frankly, it's all so embarrassing."
"You think I need to impress you?"
"I'll save you the trouble," I interject then, stepping between him and Yoshizawa. "Hand me the forms. I'll expel myself right here and now, with my own pen."
"You smug little arrogant fucking prick—" he grabs me by the neck, pulling me closer and growling now, "—you think I'm really doing all of this because I need to impress anybody!?"
He then sees my eyes, stops himself, and doesn't say anything for a long time.
Then he sits back down in his seat. "Everyone present right now will be expelled. I'm reporting you all at the next board meeting."
"You can't make a decision like that!" Yoshizawa exclaims.
"Who cares what you have to say?" bitterly responds Kamoshida. "You all come into my office, threaten me, call me a monster on things you've got no proof I've even done. You're just as guilty as they are, Yoshizawa. If only by association. To think you didn't even know why I kept someone as talentless as Mishima on my team. You act like he's a victim, but he leaked Hikawa's baggage to the school."
"What baggage?" says Sakamoto.
"Oh, you never heard?" he smiles. "You've been working with him all this time, and you didn't even know? He's got a criminal record. Assault with a deadly weapon. Apparently the guy he attacked is in his own little coma."
Sakamoto turns to me like he doesn't even know what I am anymore.
"You'll eat your words soon enough," I tell him.
"Sure, sure," he responds, amused. "You sound like children. I don't understand what you're thinking, but you're free to give it a try. All you can do is wait for your disposal. Now, are we finished here? You're all expelled. You're done for. Your futures are mine to take. Now get out of my sight."
I see something yellow and black in my peripheral vision. I see a black cat standing there, on one of the desks in the office. Staring at us. Tilting its head and letting out a soft mewl. It lets out a smile, a familiar one, and in that smile I get thrown all the way back to December, deciding to do whatever it took to save the person I loved.