Boys Don't Cry

Good starts don’t always lead to good endings. That’s absolute.

But a good start is what this was, and I’m not dumb enough to run away from it.

At least not now.

***

Kenkichi said that in a state of mind like this, the morning assembly would plunge me into further disorientation.

I took his word for it.

So I let him guide me down the hallway just outside the bathroom. 

It was narrow; sparsely decorated. And if someone were to hinge bars along the length of the wall and shove students behind them, it would probably pass as a cell block.

All we need is to go straight ahead and take a left. We’ll wind up in the auditorium in no time.

Perhaps it’s his chivalry… or something less noble, but Kenkichi was nice enough to regard my confusion in the bathroom as something dire.

“Are you sure you’re not dizzy? Disoriented?” – he went ahead of me - “How many fingers am I holding up right now?”

“T-two?”

He smiled. “Well, that rules out a stroke.”

I tried my best to form a smile. "That's... very fortunate."

He fell back to my pace. “But what it doesn’t rule out is socially questionable decisions.”

He fixed his gaze into mine; I kept my mouth zipped.

Both of us went dead-quiet.

Any trace of the ‘feeling’ I felt back then evaporated. I couldn’t come up with a witty retort. Nor could I come up with a sentence, for that matter.

I picked at my bed hair; my gaze down low.

For the first time in a while, I wished a tide of people would roll in here. Maybe their clamor would blow away the stillness.

But the silence around us screamed ever so louder.

It was banging around the hallway.

It was banging around my head.

I pinched my brow to alleviate the pain.

Then he broke it: “So, tell me, Misaki. Why in God’s hallowed name would you do that? You know, my tolerance for bullshit is over the limit. One more act of earnest bullshittery and the thing would blast over the moon. You got that jotted down? Over. The. Moon.”

He lapsed into silence as if it would give him an answer. The hallway replied with none. So I went ahead and gave one myself.

“I’m… sorry. I was, um, confused.”

Not much of an answer.

“Look. We all get ‘confused’ some time or other. But that doesn’t exempt you from scrutiny. Especially scrutiny regarding bathroom break-ins.”

“I know, I know. But I am confused. I really am.”

He thrust his hands into his pockets and cast his gaze sideways.

He raised an eyebrow. Not a good sign. I'll keep a mental note of his behavior from now on.

“Are you sure,” he said, eyes fixed on mine. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

I coughed. “I’m not... that sure anymore.”

My eyes widened. I didn't mean for that to slip out.

But I let the rest come in torrents:

“I’m not… I’m not okay. So-something happened. Something bad. I don’t know what and I don’t know why. But I don’t like it. I don’t like it until I figure it out. If only I could, then all of this,” – I gestured toward nothing in particular – “would be gone. Poof!”

“What would be gone?” he asked with earnest. He was growing more attentive by the minute.

“The vague anxieties... I don’t know what they mean, exactly. But I don’t like them. They keep creeping up to me, and there’s no cure. They just linger there as if they belong.”

I drew a breath. It was the longest breath I’ve ever taken.

It hadn’t crossed my mind how much I’d talked to him in the span of minutes.

He was an out-and-out stranger for all I knew. Yet he was the closest thing to solace I’ve ever come across.

I heaved out a breath. My being felt shrunk in size.

“I see,” he managed to say.  “I’m sorry.”

I looked up, struggling to even out my voice. “Pardon?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… meddle with your affairs if that makes sense.”

“No, no. It’s nothing. I-I, it was a lapse o-of...”

His brows furrowed, and he promptly fished something from his back pocket.

It was pair of sunglasses. 

“Hey, hey, hey, man. D-don’t cry,” – he placed them on my head – “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know it-“

I could pick up the clacking of shoes behind me, to which Kenkichi pulled me aside. Our shoulders brushed against the wall.

He patted my shoulder nearest to him in consolation. Or maybe he’s trying to save my face, I’ll never know. 

But I'm grateful either way.

The footfalls behind us belonged to a pair of girls I wasn’t acquainted with. They lent us an inquisitive glance and moved on. Kenkichi stared at them with growing agitation.

“Nothing to see here,” Kenkichi called out. “Just trying out these new shades!”

With my shoulders against the wall, I craned my head to ascertain they’d made their left to the assembly hall.

The wall on the left swallowed them whole.

I blurted out a thank you through a noseful of snot.

“It’s gonna be alright, man,” he assured. “See right yonder? We’ll turn left and I’ll promise you whatever that thing is will be resolved. Vague ailments have vague remedies, right? Maybe the clamor could blast it away. Who knows?”

I could only nod. This was embarrassing. Crying in public is a stain on someone’s reputation, I figured.

But what the hell do I know?

He patted my shoulders again and led me down the auditorium. Then he rummaged his pockets for a tissue. A single sheet was all he could find.

He lent them to me along with a smile. This time it was wide and bright.

“T-thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I wiped away the debris on my face and honked at the tissue, much to my chagrin. I crumpled it and slipped it inside my pants pocket. I looked up at his face again.

He didn't seem to mind. 

He's seen a fair share of crying boys, I guess.

We turned left. It was a narrow hallway leading into a set of double doors. Behind us was another hallway that gave in to the back of the school.

I had no idea why they placed the threshold in such a cramped space.

But the doors stood open. So we went ahead.

Inside, the auditorium was as big as the school budget could get. It’s fitted to house a maximum occupancy of fifteen classes: more than three people hundred in total.

Set in front were a stage and a podium. High-backed chairs were lined behind them.

There were no teachers.

But the interior was clogged with students ranged along the width of the auditorium. Two files per class, separated by gender.

I tallied up a total of five classes lined accordingly. The rest were loitering about- running around the floor, blathering away, or playing cards they've slipped in through inspection. 

They were making the most out of it.

What Kenkichi said was true. Perhaps the clamor could rid away my 'vague ailment'.

But guesswork is guesswork.

The clamor here was hurting my ears instead. 

I plugged them to block out the noise.

This was a morning starved of teachers. I didn't like it one bit.

“Heh, ‘starved of teachers’” Kenkichi chuckled.

I wheeled around to check the doorway.

No one came in. Students or otherwise. I figured we were the last ones in.

But hey, no welts.

Kenkichi retrieved his sunglasses, only after asking me if I was fine.

“Yeah, I’m fine now. I-I don’t know what came over me.”

He gave me a nod of assurance. Then he pointed a finger over to the line forming ahead of us. The lines for class 3-A.

“There’s our class. Let's go."

I nodded.

“Come to think of it,” he said, pacing alongside me. “We haven’t even talked before, have we?”

“N-no, I sit on the back. Th-the far-left corner. It’s like an alcove of sorts. Unpopulated.”

He smiled that inexplicable smile.  “ 'Unpopulated’ .”

Then he stroked his chin pensively. He lifted his head as if he remembered something.

“Misaki,” he asked. “Do you know her?”

He pointed his index finger.

His finger traced an outline of a mousy girl, fidgeting about the very back of the girl’s line.

Perhaps I should refer to her as ‘timid’ from now on. ‘Mousy’ sounds like some vermin whose calling in life is to be exterminated.

“That one? What about her?” I asked.

“She’s my… pseudo-therapist, believe it or not. The very remedy of vague anxieties.”

I squinted my eyes at him. “Why would you tell me that?”

He tried to conceal a laugh with the back of his hand.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do with the way you acted back there? You got me worried for a sec. It’s good to open up, but not that way.”

No retort here.

“Anyway,” he continued. “The only thing she lacks in is the clientele department.”

I considered this for a moment. “Let me get this straight. One, she’s a therapist-"

“Pseudo-therapist,” he interjected.

“She’s a pseudo-therapist with qualifications?”

“Nope, nothing professional. No reclining positions on the sofa. No clipboard in hand. Just mono-to-mono consultations.”

“So she’s a consultant?”

“That’s why I said pseudo-therapist.” he clarified.

He hesitated for a moment. Then he let it out: “She’s… pretty mediocre. But from what I’ve come to learn, people that open up their hearts get better, no?”

I nodded in agreement. I got where he's coming from.

“Opening up is nice,” I said. “I like talking to you, too.”

He could only shake his head. “Well then, Misaki. Talk away.”

He nodded in the direction of the girl and paced away from me. I trailed him from behind.

He went and fell in line behind the boy's file.

Kenkichi tapped the girl on her shoulder from across him.

The girl whirled her head around. She was a bespectacled girl with short hair that came down her neck.

 I’ve seen her before. But I couldn’t quite place where it was.

I’ve come to realize I couldn’t quite place a lot of things anywhere.

Kenkichi talked with her for a moment and I edged away. Because of... because I'm conscientious enough to do so.

If he wants us to strike up an acquaintance, he'll have to introduce us. 

But I guess a new friend wouldn't hurt anybody.

From where I'm standing, I could see that he jabbed a finger over his shoulder. And I could pick out the words ‘Misaki from our class’ despite the rowdy element.

The feeling that I wasn’t who I was swept over me again. I shook my head as to ward it off. 

It's alright. I am me. I am me. I am me. Misaki from our class is me.

It's alright.

The air grew oppressive. I couldn’t quite breathe. Perhaps the clamor added to my ailment instead. 

But then the girl broke from the line and inched closer to me. 

I could feel my body tense up. I picked at my bed hair. In excitement or in fright, I’ll never know.

She bowed deeply- almost to a 90-degree angle.

It was a miracle her glasses didn't slip away and fall.

“My name is Akagawa, nice to me-“

As her eyes leveled with my own, her face turned into a whorl.

Was my bed hair really that repulsive?

But then she stuck out her finger, outstretched- accusatorily so.

Accusatorily so? Where have I-

“You’re the pervert from the bathroom!”

I hope to God the clamor drowned her voice out.