Lunch and Friendship

“Go away.” I said furiously.

“Why?” He questioned nonchalantly.

“Go. away.” I repeated.

“Eh...Nah. I’m good.”

The boy with the orange hair sat next to me as I had my lunch outside. I sat on the grass of the campus, admiring the blossoming trees of the spring season. He pestered me the minute our class was over, following me like a stray puppy around campus and outside as I proceeded to eat.

“You wanna be friends?” He asked me as he played with his hair.

“I’d rather not.” I replied as I swallowed the last of my sandwich.

“C’mon… I apologized to you, didn’t I?”

He looked at me with puppy-eyes, but I saw him hold another yen-coin in his hands as he did so. He flashed it’s shininess at me like I was some kind payment device.

“You did not, actually.” I retorted.

I closed my eyes, hoping he would magically disappear from my sight. When I opened them he was still there.

“Must’ve said it in my dream…” He muttered, “C’mon, Gaijin! Let’s be pals!”

“My name isn’t Gaijin, it’s David.”

“David, what a cool name!” He spoke.

The boy shot up, holding his hand out to greet me, “I’m Hiroshi, nice to meetcha’.”

I reluctantly shook his hand; I knew to rather be courteous with him, so that he would not bother me in class. I made a mental note to not sit next to Hiroshi in the near future. I could see Hiroshi smirk as we shook hands. His tricks and idiocy had already begun. He gripped my hand with immense force, reluctant to me free my hand from his hold. I could feel his grip tighten like a cobra the more I tried to free myself.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He did not reply. With his other hand he scratched his chin, I could see his brain in overdrive as he got lost in his thoughts.

“Hello?” I asked.

“Strong…” He mumbled back.

“Huh?”

“…Strong grip...” He spoke to himself.

“Let. Me. Go!” I yelled.

But he did not hear me.

“You’re also very muscular, I never noticed.” Hiroshi said, inspecting my forearm.

With my free hand, I covered myself, embarrassed from his comments.

“W-What did you just say?” I asked with a red face.

“Your body…it’s very nice. You have a very strong build.” He mumbled, continuing to eye my body.

“A-Are you hitting on me?” I asked, nervously shaking.

He moved his focus into my pupils, looking at me dead centre. He moved his face to mine; we were about a finger length apart from each other. I could feel his breath against my lips.

“I’m-I’m not-” I whimpered.

“You play sports?” He asked, ignoring my heated moment.

“W-What?” I replied, flustered.

“Do you play sports? You have a very good build, you’re obviously an athlete.”

I calmed down, thankful that he was merely interested in my muscles.

“You have a good eye. I used to play. Rugby.” I responded.

“Hmm, that’s great…Yes…Very Good…” He trailed off from his sentence, “Why don’t you anymore?”

“Sports accident. I’m not allowed to play anymore.” I responded truthfully.

“Oh yes, I see, I see…” He meandered off into his thoughts once again.

I tried to stealthily pry my hand from his grip, but like a python, the more I struggled, the more his grip tightened on me.

‘Fine, let’s play rough, shall we?’ I thought to myself.

I decided to fight back, he was not going to let go without a battle. putting a large amount of pressure on Hiroshi’s hand. I never liked using force, but it was becoming a fight or flight situation, and flight was not an option I had. Hiroshi felt the pressure I inserted into his hand, I saw him lift an eyebrow at me.

“Oh? Fighting back, are we?” Hiroshi chimed with a smile.

Then, Hiroshi and I were competing in a match of strength. We tussled like Olympians in a competition to determine who had the better hand-strength. As we stood in our battle, I noticed Hiroshi’s body; Hiroshi was finely built himself. I could tell he was involved in some form of high intensity training. Our match of strength continued I could see Hiroshi’s hand turning purplish-red as we continued.

“You give up, you fool?” I jested.

“Never! This is but my first form!” He yelled like a main character in a television show.

And we continued to struggle in our contest of strength. Then, my left arm began displaying signs of tremors again.

‘Not now…’ I said internally.

I hid my hand behind my back. But Hiroshi loosened his grip on me.

“Your hands shake regularly?” He asked me.

“You noticed?” I asked him.

He nodded silently.

“It happened in class earlier too, right?” He asked me.

“Yeah, but it goes away, usually.” I replied.

With a smile he spoke calmly:

“Looks like they’ve stopped now though.” He spoke.

I looked at my arm, it had stopped shaking.

“That was fast.” I commented.

“Good!” Hiroshi exclaimed.

I wondered, that maybe under his idiocy, Hiroshi was actually a nice person. Maybe he really just wanted to be friends with me. Then, Hiroshi, with his free hand, reached into his jeans pocket, handing me another yen-coin.

“I bet you I’m stronger.” He spoke.

“Enough with the coins.” I replied.

And we went to battle, a clash of idiots. I could feel the rage of a titan build within me, I was not going to let this block of concrete and sleep beat me. I squeezed as hard as I could.

“Give up yet?” I asked.

“A man never backs down from a challenged.” He replied.

“A man? Where?” I chuckled.

A few seconds passed as we turned up to an eleven in a contest of strength. Then, within a split second, Hiroshi’s shirt was on the ground below. The orange-haired sleeper was shirtless in the middle of the university campus. His abs glimmered under the sunlight; it was difficult not to look at their definition.

“Impressed?” He snidely remarked.

“Barely, you look like a child, young one.” I laughed. I decided, ‘What the hell, might as well go all in.’

Two shirts lay across the ground in broad daylight.

“Oh, nice abs, kid.” Hiroshi remarked, he inspected my hard worked-for abs with a twinkle in his eye.

Our hand match turned into a full-fledged wrestling match. Hiroshi and I grabbed palms, attempting to overthrow one another with our strength. He was a formidable foe, but not strong enough to overpower my years of physical therapy from my time in the hospital. In the end I toppled the disturbance in my life, flipping Hiroshi on his back as he landed on the grass ground. I yelled out a victorious howl as he gasped for breath after our battle.

“Weak mortal!” I exclaimed in victory.

“Excuse me…” A voice said in the distance behind me.

I turned to see the green-haired girl from my class, she was on the walkway path a small distance away. She looked at me with a disgust in her eye, one I’ve never seen before in my life. I then noticed the crowed of university students around Hiroshi and I, some giggling, while others filmed us with their phones.

“What?” I asked the girl, my blood pumped with adrenaline.

“Why are you naked?” The green-haired girl asked.

“It’s just my shirt that’s off,” I replied, “I’m not naked.”

The girl in the wheelchair lifted a finger in my direction, pointing at my lower half. Her face was paint-red as she blushed. I turned my head downwards, to look at myself:

“Oh…” I began.

My pants were on the floor, and Hiroshi’s hand had a vice-hold on my jeans. Somehow, during Hiroshi’s fall, he had managed to pull my pants down with him as he hit the floor.

I ungraciously grabbed a shirt off the ground and put it on as masculinely as I could. While I fought back tears, I pulled my pants back up to my waist.

I walked over the corpse of Hiroshi, I noticed that he had fallen asleep, shirtless, on the ground. Walking towards the girl from my class, she held up her fingers to make a cross sign, like I was a sort of demon.

“Do not come closer to me.” She said making the cross sign.

“I am not a demon.” I said embarrassed.

“Leave me alone. I do not know who you are.” She retorted.

Before I could say another word, she wheeled herself away speedily. I fell to my knees in defeat. Hiroshi may have lost the battle, but he had won the war. The other students that surrounded us dissipated as they headed off to their next classes.

“My social life in Japan is over in one day…” I cried to myself.

Then, I could feel a hand placed on my shoulder.

“You good, pal?” Hiroshi asked me.

“Please don’t…talk to me.” I said with my hands in my face.

“I’ve got you, pal. We are friends now.” He said lifting me to my feet.

He was still shirtless.

“Let’s go to class, we’re gonna be late!” Hiroshi said.

I sobbed as we walked to our next class.