Chapter Two Part 2

Hiroto was sitting in the kitchen, having his morning coffee and his usual toast with a side of scrambled eggs, when his phone rang. He didn't even have to look to know it was his father calling again. It was the third time this week, and at a time that Hiroto considered too early for a serious conversation. He could have ignored the device, but he knew his father would call again. Then again and again and again, until ten in the morning, when his first lecture of the day at university was about to begin. Hiroto put down the dark blue coffee mug he was holding and reached for his phone. He decided it was better to get the unpleasant conversation over with.

"Good morning, Dad!" he said after touching the green button to answer the call.

"Good morning to you too, son!" he heard his father's raspy, deep voice. It sounded like the man was in a particularly good mood this morning. And that didn't bode well. His father wanted something, Hiroto would have bet anything on it. "We need to talk!"

"I'm listening," the boy leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his wavy, honey-colored locks. Here we go, he thought.

"You know your grandfather's birthday is next week," his father began, and Hiroto just nodded. Of course, the man couldn't see that. "I hope it's not too much trouble for you to visit him next Sunday and pay your respects with me."

"Will she be there too?" Hiroto asked, starting to feel nauseous.

"Yes, Rina is coming with me. After all, she's my wife and your mother. It's about time you got used to the idea, you've had ten years," Senda Kazuyuki stated from the other end of the line. His voice was calm, but Hiroto felt that the man's patience was wearing thin. "You can't hold a grudge against her forever, you're not a little kid anymore, and you should think about her too!"

"First of all, that woman is not my mother!" Hiroto declared. "Secondly, she was the one who didn't want to see me and literally threw me out of the house five years ago. If my memory serves me right, you didn't do much to stop her!"

Hiroto was trying with all his might to force calmness upon himself. When his father brought Ando Rina home ten years ago and then told him he was going to marry her, Hiroto still had hope. He grew up without a mother, and he was half-Swedish, which showed in his features. He always looked enviously at the other children whose mothers accompanied them to kindergarten, whose mothers were at the Mother's Day celebration, at the Sports Days, while he was accompanied everywhere by a babysitter. But by the time he was ten, his father decided he was too old for a nanny. The boy then thought he would become good friends with his stepmother, but the woman had been disgusted by the half-breed, or as she always called him, the mongrel hanbun – half-japanese - little boy, from the very first moment. Of course, she needed Kazuyuki's money, so she tolerated Hiroto for a while, but she always tried to thwart him wherever she could and always portrayed herself as the victim. The situation eventually escalated to the point where, when Hiroto turned fifteen, his father bought him an apartment just to have peace in the family. The boy felt that after his mother, who simply disappeared from his life when he was three, now his father had also abandoned him. Moreover, he didn't have many friends either, as his half-breed status made him stand out everywhere. And the fact that he didn't have a mother only made the situation worse. Parents feared for their children because of him, and the situation escalated to the point where Hiroto was finally able to make friends only in high-school. But he still kept a certain distance from them, even though he was a very friendly, kind, and thoughtful boy. Yet he still faced harassment from his schoolmates, who thought it would be better if Hiroto studied in a school "for gaijins."

Hiroto sighed deeply, then spoke into the phone.

"I don't know if I'll be free next Sunday. I have a lot to study and exams are coming up. If I can, I'll make time for it, and if not, I'll visit grandpa another time," he said simply.

"Is university more important than your family? Don't forget who bought you the apartment!" His father, as usual, brought up the apartment, and Hiroto was starting to get fed up with it.

"I haven't forgotten, but if you need it so much, I'll give it back. I never asked you to buy me an apartment. My scholarship is more than enough to support myself." The boy's voice was still calm, but he was starting to get a little annoyed inside. "I'm sorry, but I have to go now, Dad. We'll talk another time, but I have a lot to do. Bye!"

Before his father could react, Hiroto hung up. He knew he had probably thoroughly angered the man, but he didn't care. What he said wasn't untrue. His scholarship was high enough, and if push came to shove, he could always move into one of the dorms. There was always an empty bed, and it wouldn't have been a problem for him to share a room with someone. At university, they cared very little about who was fully Japanese, who was foreign, or who was half-blood. This was somewhat the adult world, where performance mattered, not origin. At least, Hiroto liked to believe that.

~*~

Yuya breathed a sigh of relief after arriving at school, changing his shoes, and heading towards his classroom, which was on the first floor, the second door to the right from the stairs. Yuya generally felt good at school, and besides, no one was in the classroom so early. His classmates didn't bother him because there was no problem with him. He didn't study so well that they would envy him, nor so poorly that he would jeopardize the class's academic average, which would make others pick on him. Their class wasn't really characterized by anyone being bullied, but Yuya knew that not all classes were like that. He knew a tall, bespectacled boy a year above him whose classmates regularly abused him. Everyone knew about it, but no one was foolish enough to interfere in the internal affairs of another class. Yuya also kept quiet, because if he had opened his mouth, he would have caused unnecessary trouble not only for himself but also for his other classmates. It was better to lie low, if only because with such a problem, he would have really pushed his father's buttons at home. Besides, there was no one he really talked to. Basically, he hadn't made friends with anyone for a long time; his family made sure he didn't even think about forming closer relationships with anyone.

He had already decided that he would feign illness; it wouldn't show, and he wouldn't have to explain anything unnecessarily. He could lie peacefully in the infirmary while listening to White Dragon's voice. Of course, he knew well that he wouldn't be able to deceive Murai-sensei, the school doctor, but that didn't matter. The middle-aged woman never said anything and knew well that students didn't always visit the infirmary when they actually had a physical problem. Some just wanted to hide or get some sleep after an exhausting night of studying. The sensei wasn't bothered by it; after all, the students rarely caused her problems. Yuya, on the other hand, had been a regular visitor to the room since the beginning of the school year, whenever Hokuto beat him. Sometimes they even talked, because Yuya thought Murai-sensei was the only adult in the school to whom one could turn with problems. Although there had been talk for years about hiring a school psychologist, or at least a mental health counselor, the school district had not yet received money from the Ministry for this. Yet it would have been necessary; this was no secret to anyone. But due to lack of money, the principal could not take action either. And Yuya was not the only person in the school who would have needed a good deal of emotional support.

The classmates slowly started trickling in around half past eight. Several greeted Yuya, which he politely returned. There were students with whom he occasionally exchanged a few words, but fundamentally, he didn't form close, personal relationships with anyone. He watched enviously as the others chatted in cliques, so he pretended to be studying intently. His classmates were used to him being a loner who did his part in the required tasks but didn't cause much trouble. The pleasant hum of conversation faded around him as Yuya immersed himself in his own thoughts. Only the distinctive sound of the bell jolted him out of his reverie, as his classmates hurried to their places. A few moments later, Kuga-sensei, the modern literature teacher, arrived, and the first class began promptly at nine.

After the first class, Yuya decided he couldn't wait any longer. The others were already preparing for double physical education. The students gathered their gym clothes to go to the changing rooms. Yuya stood up and hurried after the class president, Ibara Yoshitaka.

"Ibara-kun, can I talk to you?" Yuya asked the serious-faced, spiky-haired boy, who turned back in surprise.

"What's wrong, Miyazawa-kun?" the boy asked. It was rare for Yuya to initiate a conversation with anyone.

"I don't feel too well," Yuya replied in a faint voice. "I'm going down to the infirmary. Would you tell Katagiri-sensei, if I ask you?"

"Of course," came the reply. "He probably won't be happy that you're not coming to PE again, but I'll cover for you. You really don't look well, I hope you get better soon."

"Thank you, Ibara-kun," Yuya said gratefully, then headed out the door. He left his belongings in the classroom, as the class president would lock the door anyway. He only took his phone and earphones with him.

He was glad that Ibara-kun was their class president, who never asked unnecessary questions. He genuinely worried about his classmates and cared for them. It was thanks to him that the class had become such a cohesive community over the past six months.

To be honest, by the time he got to the infirmary, he really wasn't feeling too well. He attributed it to last night, all the studying, and this morning. Although he bought himself a packaged sandwich at the cafeteria, he felt some guilt for not having breakfast at home again today. After last night's beating, he couldn't have sat at a table with his brother and watched Hokuto scrutinize him with satisfaction. Nausea churned at the thought that he would have to apologize tonight for something his brother had made up. Moreover, his mother would surely be there; their father wouldn't be involved in such a matter.

As Yuya pulled open the infirmary door, he immediately spotted Murai-sensei sitting at her desk. The woman was writing something, but she looked up when the door opened. She didn't seem surprised to see Yuya, as she merely nodded.

"Good Morning, sensei!" Yuya bowed.

"Hello, Miyazawa-kun!" the middle-aged woman returned the greeting. "Don't you feel well? Shall I give you something?"

"My stomach hurts and I'm nauseous," Yuya said, and he wasn't lying much.

"Lie down, I'll get you some medicine," Murai-sensei gestured towards the beds.

Four hospital beds stood side by side, each could be separated by a curtain, like in hospitals. Yuya almost felt at home as he sat on the last bed, took off his jacket and shoes, and then slipped under the blanket. He had been here so many times in the past six months since he started attending Sendai that he felt most at home in the infirmary. Murai-sensei soon returned with a tablet and a glass of water. Yuya took the medicine, then drew the curtain around the bed. He wanted to be alone. Completely alone. He put his wireless earphones in and turned on one of White Dragon's podcasts. Almost before the intro finished playing, he was already in the land of dreams, where no one and nothing could harm him.