Fourteen

"I thus pronounce Enraku Sekogoro guilty on the charges of rape and aggravated assault, sentencing him to twenty years in prison.”

Tamashi’s face became contorted with anger, but his father managed to prevent him from acting rashly.

“Let it go, Tamashi. There’s nothing more you can do. You did everything you could. If it weren’t for you, he would still be a free man.”

You did everything you could.

That sentence—one that was meant to comfort a rightfully enraged child—made Tamashi livid instead.

“Then it wasn’t enough,” Tamashi responded through gritted teeth, clenching his fists tightly. “That beast deserves nothing but death. What happens in twenty years, when that bastard walks free again and decides to attack someone else? What will the police do then, when they were completely useless now?”

Tamashi’s father wordlessly put his arm around Tamashi’s shoulder, his expression conflicted and pained.

Then, as Enraku Sukegoro was walking out the courtroom in cuffs, he caught Tamashi’s gaze. The corners of his lips twitched, and he stared at the young boy back with fury in his deep black eyes, barely managing to keep his facial expression neutral.

It had been Tamashi who had put him behind bars. After managing to escape from the police and the court of law for years, it was eventually a fourteen-year-old boy who caught him.

It had taken Tamashi more than a year, but after skipping school, running away from home at night, and sneaking around the city, he finally caught the man in the act.

Now, his accomplishment was being shown to Tamashi right before his eyes, yet he felt nothing but rage and injustice.

Enraku Sukegoro had been a suspect in many rape and assault cases—including Tamashi’s mother—but there was never any evidence, as if he was a ghost. Therefore, he had only been charged with the rape of a singular woman—the one Tamashi had caught him with.

As Sukegoro avoided Tamashi’s hateful stare, his lips formed into a faint smirk, knowing he had escaped what he truly deserved.

***

“Alright class, homeroom is over. Remember the school trip to Kyoto next week. Now enjoy your weekend.”

Right as the tall, handsome young teacher finished speaking, Tamashi—along with the rest of the class—bowed slightly. Not wasting any time, he grabbed his already packed bag, heading to the classroom exit silently.

“Tamashi!” 

A male voice called out from behind him right as he was about to open the door and leave.

Taking a silent breath and steadying his expression, he turned around with a natural-looking smile.

“Yes?” he inquired politely.

“We’re going to some karaoke after school. It’s Sayaka’s birthday tomorrow, but she’s celebrating it with her family, so we thought we’d celebrate it today. Are you down?”

Tamashi glanced at a female classmate behind the boy, nervously taking a few awkward glances at Tamashi, then immediately avoiding his eyes when they made eye contact.

Why doesn’t she just ask me herself? Tamashi thought, annoyed, but didn’t let it show on his face at all.

“Sorry, my mom’s sick, so I have to help her with my baby sister,” Tamashi declined politely, but his male classmate—Hiroto—persisted.

“Come on, you can only come for a little while. I’m sure your mom will handle it.”

Tamashi furrowed his brow, but composed himself quickly, so no one noticed.

“Sorry, she is really sick. I would’ve stayed home, but she insisted I need to come to school. But I really need to get going now, so...”

Tamashi turned around, but Hiroto still wasn’t giving up.

“Just text your dad to come help your mom.”

“...My dad has to work.”

“So ask your brother to do it.”

“He has club activities.”

“Can’t he just skip this one time?”

“He can’t, alright!” Tamashi raised his voice suddenly, causing the room to go silent. Everyone was now looking at him strangely and in shock, causing him to frown, not bothering to hide it this time.

“I’m going home,” he announced after a few seconds, leaving the classroom without looking back.

***

The next Monday, when he crossed the school’s entrance, Hiroto suddenly ran up to him, breathing heavily.

“Tamashi! Thank god you’re here. Something happened to Sayaka. She said she was feeling dizzy, then passed out!”

“Huh?”

“Come on, hurry!”

The confused Tamashi decided to just follow with hurried steps, worried about his classmate’s safety. However, when they arrived around a corner of the school building where Hiroto had led him, Sayaka wasn’t there. Instead, another male classmate stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his lips, eyeing Tamashi with disgust.

Stopping and taking a look around, he noticed two more guys had followed him and Hiroto, now completely surrounding him.

“What is this?” Tamashi asked, skeptical. “You said something happened to Sayaka.”

“Oh, so now you care about her? I really don’t get what she sees in you.”

It was Hiroto who spoke up, his worried expression from earlier now gone, replaced with a hateful scowl.

Finally realizing he had been tricked, Tamashi sighed loudly, then leaned against the wall lazily.

“What do you want? I don’t want to miss class for no reason.”

"Tsk, so arrogant," Hiroto noted, irritated by Tamashi's laid-back attitude.

“We did some digging, wondering why you always leave school right away, coming up with lame excuses to not hang out with anyone,” Hiroto started, causing Tamashi to look at him wearily.

“What do you mean by digging?” he inquired, to which Hiroto laughed sarcastically.

“Well, we found out how sick your mother truly is. What, so she’s just too depressed to take care of her own child? Talk about being a lousy mother.”

“Shut up...” Tamashi grunted, but Hiroto wasn’t done.

“What, is it because the kid isn’t your father’s? How does it feel to have a sister whose father is a rapist?”

“I said shut up, Hiroto...” Tamashi warned, but Hiroto just ignored him.

“I mean, sex is supposed to be pleasant, right? Doesn’t that mean your mommy enjoyed being raped?”

BAM!

Hiroto suddenly had Tamashi’s fist mercilessly sink into his face, knocking out a few teeth and knocking him to the ground.

“Eh...?”

Before Hiroto could even process what happened, Tamashi pounced on top of him, locking both his arms with his knees, bringing another punch to his face, this time most definitely breaking Hiroto’s nose.

“I SAID!”

Another hit.

“SHUT!”

Another hit.

“THE!”

Another.

“FUCK!”

And again.

“UP!”

And again, and again. Another hit, and another.

Tamashi’s knuckles were bleeding, multiple of his fingers were broken, but that was nothing compared to Hiroto’s face.

His nose had sunk in and was bent sideways in an unnatural way, blood gushing from it like a river whose pressure broke through a dam. Hiroto's eyes were swollen,  his cheeks somehow tore open, his face countless colors of red, purple, blue, and yellow. More than half of his teeth had fallen out, weak groans escaping from Hiroto’s toothless mouth.

Tamashi hadn’t even noticed that two of the three boys that were with them were trying to peel him off Hiroto, until a tall, young, and handsome teacher—his homeroom teacher—came running, instantly throwing Tamashi to the ground and locking his arms behind his back.

Only then, when Tamashi finally snapped back to reality, had he noticed what he had done.

One of his own classmates, whom he had called a friend less than a year ago, was now barely conscious, unrecognizable from the cheerful captain of the baseball club.

***

About three hours later, Tamashi was sitting outside the principal’s office, his hands wrapped in bloodied bandages. His mind was completely blank, refusing to process or acknowledge what he had just done.

“Why is he not here yet? Over the phone, he said it would take him about an hour, but it’s already been almost three.”

Tamashi could hear muffled voices coming from the office, but he just ignored them, choosing to stare at the bright ceiling light instead.

Just then, the phone of one of the teachers inside the office rang.

“Hello, this is... Yes. What? Yes... thank you for calling, we’ll send him with one of our staff right away.”

Silence followed for a couple of minutes, before the door opened, and the principal along with Tamashi’s homeroom teacher walked out, their expressions grim.

The young teacher knelt in front of Tamashi, and said with a heavy tone.

“Tamashi, I’m terribly sorry to be the one to tell you this but... Your father...”

At the mention of his father, Tamashi finally looked up, seeing his teacher’s eyes gazing into his with pain and grief.

“On the way here,” he continued, his voice getting lower, “your father had an accident on the road... He’s... I’m so sorry, he’s gone.”

***

Only about half an hour later, Tamashi was looking down at his deceased father’s face inside a plastic body bag.

Once again, his mind was blank, as if Tamashi was looking at something ordinary like a chalkboard inside a classroom.

Is this... my fault? had been the first thought that formed in Tamashi’s head after who knows how long.

If I just ignored them, dad wouldn’t have needed to leave work. He wouldn’t have needed to come to school... He was in the car... because of me.

Suddenly feeling dizzy, Tamashi’s head started spinning. Breathing heavily, he sank to his knees, looking at his bandaged hands in horror.

His teacher, who had gone along with Tamashi, reacted quickly, holding him firmly so he wouldn’t fall on the hard floor.

“Tamashi, what happened?” he asked, to which Tamashi answered while struggling to breathe.

“...My fault. It’s my fault. It’s my fault...”

Hugging him tightly, his homeroom teacher gently patted his back, trying to comfort him.

“It’s not your fault, Tamashi. Please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault.”

That made Tamashi stop talking, but his condition was only getting worse, to the point that a doctor had to step in.

As Tamashi was laid on a hospital stretcher, a sly grin appeared before his hollow azure eyes, as they finally gained an emotion again—hatred. A few words escaped his lips, so weak that nobody, not even Tamashi himself, could hear them.

“I’ll kill him... even if I die trying.”