Adrift

7

Aoi Chigusa

Yamada's face is shit.

Both of his lids are bulging with a bluish purple tinge. One can't even see what his eyes look like anymore, it's just a bloated line. His lips and nose are tapered with bandages. How can he even move his face at that state?

I pat his shoulder and he slaps my hand away, complaining it hurts when I do that.

"I want to go to school, Aoi," he insists.

My father was in bit of a shock when he saw us going home like that last night. Instead of scolding us, he told us not to go out of the house anymore. I didn't even have to persuade him to let Yamada stay. He can't really force us not to go to school though.

"They'll laugh at your face," I tell him. He shakes his head as he places an old notebook in his backpack. That bag is an old one that I used to carry around back in Junior High.

"I don't care, I have to keep going." His voice is surprisingly indignant.

It's truly funny how influential female Aoi is. I can't believe she managed to spark a remaining hope in Yamada who happens to have incorporated a Hikikimori lifestyle for weeks.

"Aoi, you look damn ugly too," he adds with a smile that's making his cheeks quiver. A wince follows the smile right after. He is right though, I look shit too.

My nose is also plastered with bandages, the bottom lip is split, and the forehead is filled with scratches. That lamp was painful to go through. Still painful up until now. Biking with the pain last night made it worse but panic must have fuelled my energy to do it.

Yamada makes his way out of our room and bids his goodbye to my father with a bow. I do the same thing and follow him out of the apartment. Instead of the bike, we decide to take the train instead.

Like usual mornings, the station guard sweats himself off by making a passenger fit inside the train consisting hordes of businessmen and students squished together. He tries to push me with his shoulder and succeeds as I get inserted between two businessmen who are standing by their sides just to fit. One of them is wearing a suit with cheap fabric. Its cloth scratches towards my arm and makes it red. Yamada with his crutches gets to sit down comfortably together with an old woman.

One thing I'm glad of is that Yamada finally took a bath last night. Sure it made our little tub grimy and bloody but after the bath, he looked almost human. His hair was soft and didn't have grease anymore. The spots of accumulated dirt on his neck disappeared and is replaced by pink scratch marks.

As we arrive at the station near the school, a few people assist him out. We could walk to the shortcut but still, it would be too much work for him so both of us agreed to go to the bus. Unlike the train, I get to sit comfortably beside him. Sometimes, I catch him rubbing his thighs with his palms when people look at him. This decision is definitely something big for him. I still can't believe Aoi has that some kind of influence over people. No one would believe that at all or perhaps, Hatsumomo does.

Our ride then comes to an end as the bus swerves to the right and straight through the school's street. A woman in her forties offers to help him but he refuses and stands on his own while gripping a pole.

In the school's hallways, most of the students whisper to their companion as they witness us coming through. A few juniors approach by the stairway and make us pause for a while. Yamada releases out a sigh as he waits for me. Once again, I see him rubbing his palms though right now, he rubs it on his arms.

"Aoi-kun! What happened to your pretty face?" A freshman girl asks. She's got this stunning round brown eyes but her makeup made her lashes stick together. I usually don't notice things like these but hers just stand out as she bats her lashes.

"Eh, it's nothing," I tell them and excuse myself out. I could hear giggles as I continue to support Yamada up to the stairways. Call me a narcissist but it is fun to hear them like that in the morning. Much more pleasing now that I'm single. Though if I were to be asked if I could have a relationship again, I will refuse.

The classes go by in a boring drift, mostly driven by discussions and the checking of assignments. Time to time, I couldn't help but glance at Maki, hoping she would somehow look back and smile. As hours go by, her head still does not turn to the side where I'm sitting. Three of the teachers ask the class why Hatsumomo's absent for two days but no one responds back to them. My classmates would gather their heads towards Ishiki but she also claims not to know.

Occasional whispers and chatters concerning our bruised faces continue. One of them says that Ishiki did it to both of us but one could only say that if they didn't know what Matsui and others do. I didn't care much what others would say because I know, they wouldn't talk badly of me for that long as they've known me to be neutral. For them, this could be just a phase.

What I was waiting is for my group to talk about it. For the past hours, I did not exchange a word to them. Strategically, I would pass by during breaks while they bunch up in a corner. Yamada would follow me and duck his head.

Mostly, they would talk about mundane things like makeup or mocking Ishiki's dry skin. However, during dismissal, I get to hear Maki's thoughts.

Everyone inside the library would fan their selves with a notebook. I could feel my pits getting damp and my nose gathering up a sweat. Yamada and I hide right in the way of the last shelf as Matsui and Maki chat on the other side.

Matsui, the witch starts the topic, "It seems that he's degrading now that you guys split up."

"I didn't think he would go that low and let punks beat him because of that. He's making it worse by avoiding us and befriending losers. Pathetic." Maki responds sharply. I look down on my feet and let out a silent sigh. So that's what Maki thinks of me now? Does she think that I am degrading? Is this why she's bored with our relationship?

Pathetic. The word continues to run in my mind with Maki's voice. It repeats a few times and each time it grows louder.

Of course, she's right. I lost my cool and thought being friendly would work. My first thought yesterday was to keep this by myself. I just wanted to check how Yamada is doing, not side with him.

Immediately, I saunter in defeat towards the library exit. Yamada follows me but I ignore his sentiments. He tries again with a louder voice. What a loser he really is. They're right, it's Yamada's inconvenience now. It would be better for him to suffer alone than more of us to be further involved.

"Stop following me!" I snap. Yamada flinches and clears his throat.

"I shouldn't have visited you yesterday. You're a poor excuse of a person and they're right. They've always been right all along!"

Silence quickly engulfs the hallway. Some of the students who pass by looks at me with surprised gazes. I too was surprised with what I said that I couldn't muster words to continue.

Yamada's eyes glisten with tears. He ducks down his head and descends his shoulders as he walks away from me. Right at that moment, I could feel all of my joints and muscles tightening with a weirdly uncomfortable force.

I stay there standing and staring at the space where Yamada was. Maybe, this is the right choice. Just imagine the inconvenience of letting someone stay at your home. Getting targeted by gangsters who only want to bully you. It's safer like this. I'm sorry Yamada.

"You're a fool!" Someone behind me yells. Without even turning back, I'm certain it's Ishiki.

"I don't care if you knock me out dead right now," I tell her, still not turning around. Is this her role now? To pop out and punish me for my decisions? She should look at herself, she's a mess. I hate this timing.

Truthfully, I don't care anymore about whatever she preaches. Being with her is a danger zone. I should not get acquainted with people like her.

She grabs my shoulder with a tight grip and pulls me around. Surprisingly, her face isn't red and her nostrils aren't fuming with anger. Her lips spread out in a thin line but not for a smile. I could predict that by now, she's going to punch me.

Instead of a fist hurling towards me, a sticky clear substance comes out from her mouth and lands on my face.

"Pathetic excuse of a person," she mutters and leaves.

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