False Start (Boyxboy)

14: KINDLING

The moon rose and so did my sense of disquietude.  I'd waited all day to see stars, but once I could, a congestion of emotions sent me backpedaling.  Inside the pocket where Keiji's letter had been, I clenched my mysterious rock.  I clenched it as though I could squeeze some juices of comfort from its core, tracing its rough grooves with my thumb.  Meanwhile, my morals warred against my integrity inside my mind.

Lately, I felt so lost.  I couldn't understand myself or anyone else.  I didn't know where I stood.  But there at Camp Chikai, separated from the rest of society, it seemed like big things could happen.  Fresh air, fresh perspectives, forced into communication with others.  It seemed like I was on the verge of figuring something out.  But the time passed so fast, and just like that the last night was upon us.  All I could think about was how reality would come crashing down on me when I got home tomorrow, and how life would fall back into its insignificant patterns.

I'd fade away into the background of everyone's lives, feeling like I had no purpose or place. Back to the chase.

All day I'd waited to see stars, been eager to sneak out, but now I wasn't so sure that I wanted to.  I didn't want to put myself in a situation that would make things messier than they already were.  Yet, deep down, the decision had been vindicated.

The team built a massive bonfire and assembled around on logs, listening to the crackles as orange hues danced across our faces.  After all the cold we'd endured that day, the sublime warmth seemed to hug our hearts.  We'd cut up potatoes and various others vegetables, adding water and salt and rolling them into little packets of tinfoil, which we set beside the flames to stew.  Everyone drank hot green tea from a communal ceramic jug, sharing smiles and laughter.  It was as though we were a big family, quirks and all.

I'd made the move to sit beside Keiji.  Our bracelets' beads glistened in the firelight, like the spirits of our wishes were aglow within.  It was hard not to mention the note, but I wanted to keep it a secret from everyone else.  I knew we'd find a chance to confirm the plan. 

On the other hand, Hiro and I hadn't spoken since he pushed Niou into the water.  It's not that I was avoiding him, we just hadn't really had a chance to interact.  For some reason, though I wasn't mad, it offended me that he'd been so aggressive on the dock after our conversation last night.  Maybe I'd thought I could help him change.

That sounds like something a girl would say.

"So, listen up, everyone," Coach announced as he stoked the fire. "I want to tell you all that you've done a good job while we were here. You ran more miles in one weekend than you would in a regular week of practice. Give yourselves a pat on the back."

Keiji tapped me on the shoulder a few times with his casted palm. Around us, others were pounding fists. Nobody could restrain their gaiety.

"Tomorrow, we're going to leave this place. You'll have tests to study for and families to put up with, and running won't be your top priority anymore. But you can carry the lessons it teaches you into every aspect of your life."

We'd become solemn, listening with intent.

"As long-distance runners, you're a special breed of athlete. You're not perfecting skills or obeying rules. No, our sport is the punishment of other sports. We are in constant motion, and become our own enemies, screaming at ourselves to keep going even when it feels like our legs will give out. More than anyone else, we learn about dedication and the power of pushing ourselves to greater heights. If you want something, be it better grades, a better relationship, or a better time at the next meet, you have to put in work. You don't rely on other teammates. You rely on yourself. You'll all go on to do great things because of this ethic that's been ingrained in you. And I'm so proud, watching you all grow."