Distance is Better Than Discretion

I’m scared.

Scared of thinking about the future. About what comes after this. And how everyone else is so sure of themselves.

Certainty is a luxury for people who don’t look close enough.

For the rest of us, the only thing waiting beyond the curtain of adolescence is a quiet, ugly, and uncertain life.

The soft click of a camera stands alone in the warm, spring air. Rustling grass, chirping cicadas, and the slow taps of people walking seem negligible.

Two hands navigate the panels of a high-end camera, scrolling to menu, then photo storage, and finally selecting the most recent photo.

The setting sun caressing the city-line in front of it, imposing shadows over the muted grass.

The minute swaying of the blades of grass distort the bottom of the photo slightly, and the camera operator sighs in defeat.

As quickly as he took the photo, he discarded it.

Facing away from the setting sun, the boy’s medium-length black hair poorly reflected the light. His hair cast shade on his face, obscuring his dull, and senseless brown eyes.

For people like me, uncertainty is…well…unavoidable.

The boy walks to a crossroads, squinting at a street sign.

He moves slowly down a quiet street, muted conversations and dining room lights peering through curtains almost everywhere.

Passing house after house, between neighborhoods and populated streets, he finally makes it to his destination.

He climbs up some stairs, until the third floor. Passing by a few doors, he turns and unlocks one with the nameplate “Kurosawa”.

Opening the door, he’s greeted with a familiar air.

No extra pairs of shoes, or dinner waiting for him.

The boy seems accustomed to this environment, and continues taking his shoes off and setting the camera on the table at the door.

That’s right…tomorrow’s the start of second year.

Some would say a fresh start, more would say it’s just another step towards autonomy…

The boy makes himself dinner, sitting alone on a chair. Solitary, but melancholic.

…If you ask me though, it’s just a formality. Then we’re all cast into the vast unknown behind the curtain.

Fluttering curtains for the apartment’s air conditioning reveal the purple sunset peeking through.

He looks at the fluttering curtains, observing the sunset from his seat as he continues eating.

An excuse to move forward.

                                                                                 *

The morning orange and yellow breaks through the blinds, bringing motion to an otherwise still interior.

The boy rolls over in his bed, already awake. No anticipation, or first day nerves. Just the melancholic feeling of social re-acclimation.

Getting out of bed, he showers, brushes his teeth and gets dressed.

His uniform is black, with red accents and a small pin on the collar with 2 arrows. Below is a dress shirt, white and a tie, black.

He puts it on, the familiar sensation of chafing and tight in the wrong places.

At the door to his apartment, he looks at himself in the mirror.

The morning light, dulled through the front door’s window, coats his medium-length black hair. It all seems to be absorbed by the dullness, or maybe the lack of color.

He tries middle-parting his hair, like so many of the popular crowd do. Seeing the compensation his bangs are doing, however, made him quickly scrap this idea.

In this still morning air, second year student Ren Kurosawa stands alone in his front foyer.

His eyes wander from the mirror to the table below it.

There rests his camera, and he hesitates for a moment after seeing it.

“Now’s not the time to be special”

He leaves the camera on the table, and heads out the door to school.

Passing through streets that wind into pathways, the morning sun blooming the day as it grows higher in the sky.

Ren makes it to the school gates, covering the sun with one of his hands and squinting at the entrance.

He walks into school, skipping the cramped group at a board with papers pinned on it.

Standing out just makes it easier for you to be brought down. I guess that’s the only benefit I have for being who I am…

He makes his way to a mostly-still-empty room, arbitrarily picking a seat before anyone else has the chance.

…Since I’m already at rock bottom, there’s nowhere else for me to go!

Ren grins to himself, and exhales in satisfaction. Like he’s won a battle.

As he unpacks his bag, he takes in the scenery of the class with his own two eyes.

Lingering dust in the air, illuminated by the rising sun. Indistinct chatter of classmates, some catching up, some introductions, but all all them together create the ambience.

Half of the matte-green chalk board is lit up from the sun through the windows, unearthing past writings, looking like ancient history by now.

More people shuffle into the class, and the seats gradually fill with people. Not quite acquaintances, but not strangers either. Nothing more than classmates.

The bell rings, and for the first time in a while, the cycle begins again.

                                                                               *

“Kurosawa-san, do you have a moment?” The teacher asks, after the dismissal bell.

“I got nowhere else to be, sure.” He replies.

The two of them linger, until the class clears out completely.

The faint scent of cigarettes, and ever-so-slightly off-centered red; it was the staple atmosphere given off by Rintaro Hoshino. Ren’s homeroom teacher, one he’d grown used to.

Already on my case? What’s this about…

“So what’d you want to talk to me about, Hoshino-sensei?”

Hoshino takes a deep breath, looking toward the chalkboard.

“...I take it you’re staying in the Literature club this year?” he asks Ren, still facing away.

“Is there something wrong with that?” Ren asks back, confused.

Hoshino turns to face Ren, with a minutely caring look on his face.

“I’m the club advisor this year. You guys better actually do things this year.”

Hoshino-sensei’s the club advisor? I mean, he’s alright but….

Ren thinks back to his time in the literature club last year, which was…nonexistent.

Attendance wasn’t mandatory, and everyone in the club knew that. That is, if there was anyone else.

As Ren thinks back, Hoshino continues.

“Starting tomorrow, you must be participating in the club activities. I’ll know if you don’t…because this year it’s on my watch, not that lazy dirtbag Goro-sensei!”

Wow, Hoshino-sensei seems fired up about Goro-sensei. They must get along.

Ren accidentally chuckles at his own sarcasm, which Hoshino misinterprets.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Sensei.”

An awkward air drifts between the two, but neither take it seriously.

“That’s that, now we just need to talk to the third years…” Hoshino trails off, and Ren stops listening.

He looks out the window, the subtle setting sun embracing the lower half of his face.

Ren tilts his head, framing the shot in his mind.

Sometimes, I feel that I could reach out and grab the setting sun, and move it to where it should be.

It’s crazy, I know. People say reaching for the stars is a waste of time.

Maybe it is.

But most people fail to raise their hand.

Ren’s hand jitters for a moment, before ultimately returning to his side.

“...but that’s about it. Just show up, alright?” Hoshino politely asks, with a half baked smile on his face.

Ren heads for the door, waving back over his shoulder at Hoshino.

“Sure thing.”

Hoshino’s eyes linger on Ren’s back as he walks down the hallway, exhaling a final comment.

“Same as always, huh…”

                                                                               *

That evening, Ren stands out on his porch. The evening breeze shifts his hair around, but feels soothing.

The sky is an almost monochromatic blue, the twilight between evening and night.

Nothing but the quiet hum of a city on the brink of sleeping, and the outstretching arms of the twilight sky.

Ren looks up, through the lens of his camera, framing the blend of purples and blues of the sky.

That single moment, fleeting in nature, will always and forever rest in the past.

Click.

Navigating through the menu of the camera, he observes the photo he just took.

With a disappointed sigh, Ren clicks the delete button, and returns to his apartment.

                                                                                *

A few days later, during lunch at school, Ren unpacks his store-bought lunch and begins to eat.

Not soon after, the chatter in the class begins to rise.

Don’t they know how to eat in peace?

The growing noise is too much for Ren, so he grabs his lunch and sets out to find a place to eat in solitude.

Then an idea grows in his mind: The library.

He heads to the library, and when he opens the door he’s welcomed by the sweet silence. Undisturbed and unchanged, sitting as if it were a relic from the past.

Perfect…

Setting his lunch on a table, alone in a corner, he begins eating.

…This place is better than I thought. How’s nobody-

His thought process is interrupted by a sight completely contradicting it.

A few tables down, someone else sits, eating their lunch in solitude.

Ren stares for a long moment, composing something in his mind.

The mid-day light reflects on her golden blonde hair, down to her thin shoulders. And her aquamarine eyes, bending the light unnaturally around them.

Two arrows on the collar. The same as Ren.

Who’s she? I’d like to think I’ve at least seen everyone in the same year as me…

Ren observes further, tilting his head again while studying her colors from his seat.

That’s when she notices his gaze, and returns it.

Ren instinctively looks away, embarrassed she noticed him. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, staring out the window as he starts eating again.

Tap Tap Tap

Clack.

Ren notices her reflection is sitting across from him, and turns forward.

The girl says nothing, but continues eating.

Is this some sort of power-move to inch me off my territory? I knew high school was wild, but territory disputes…

Ren’s nerves are getting the better of him, but he tries to act calm and collected.

Remember the basics! It’s moments like this where the “3 S’s of survival” really shine…

Sit up.
Stay away.
And Stop thinking about it.

Taking a deep breath, he goes back to eating his food.

For the rest of lunch, the two of them eat in silence, perfect strangers at the same table.

The lunch bell rings, and the girl gets up, packs her lunch, and leaves the library.

Ren remains sitting at the table, confused.

What the hell was that?

As he’s packing up, he lingers on the thought of the first time he saw her, through an imaginary lens.

When he stands to leave, something sitting on the chair across from him catches his eye: a newly bought student handbook.

He picks it up, and opens it to see the girl’s student ID.

Tsumiki Hayashi. Second Year. Class 2-F.

He sets the hand book in his pocket, and leaves the library too, wondering when he can hand it back to her.

The immediate solution comes to mind. Literally right now.

Heading down the overcrowded hallway to class 2-F, Ren continually bumps into people’s shoulders.

Finally making it to her class, he enters and scans the room for her.

He silently walks over to her desk, placing the handbook on the corner and attempts to leave without being noticed.

A hand grabs the back of his sleeve, stopping him.

“Thank you…?” Tsumiki says, trying to reach for a name.

“No problem.” Ren intentionally ignores this, and tries walking away again.

“You were staring at me”
“Was not”
“You were tilting your head!”
“That’s just the way I stand.”

Ren breaks free from her, admittedly, very gentle hold.

Tsumiki reaches for his sleeve again, but misses.

Ren leaves the class, and Tsumiki is left staring at the handbook on her desk.

You were sitting though…

                                                                                   *

The final bell rings, and Ren packs his stuff into his bag.

Taking one look at Hoshino-sensei told Ren all he needed to know: It’s club day, again.

Today, seriously? Well, whatever…I got nothing better to do.

Making it to the library, Hoshino-sensei ushers Ren in first, but stays in the hall himself.

The library remains empty, with the same undisrupted and stagnant air it had earlier.

“Introducing the newest member of the literature club….!” Hoshino-sensei ominously exclaims from outside the room.

Ren looks toward the doorway, not really invested.

To his surprise, a familiar (as familiar as he can be) hair and eyes walk in.

“....she’s also new to the school…..Tsumiki Hayashi-san! Take good care of her, Kurosawa.”

Her entrance moves the air, circulating it to every corner of the room.

Ren wasn’t prepared to talk to her again so soon.

“...territory dispute?”

Ren says out loud accidentally.

He covers his mouth quickly.

“What?”

“What?”

                                                                                      *