Kudzu All the Way Down

As time went on, Youji could admit to himself that he remembered plenty of what had happened that night. Just not what he needed to. 

He liked riding a bicycle more than his bike. As nice as it felt to zoom across a late-night city, it didn't hold a candle to the way the wind would sing and tug at his hair back at the countryside, among the sea of rice paddles, blue and green and brown, below the yellow, warm sun.

Not wearing a helmet could get him killed, or worse, a ticket, but at this hour of the night, it'd probably be fine. 

Would he end up going to the wedding or not? Probably. Once his head cooled enough for him to be rational, it almost seemed like a good idea.

***

"So he got you a job?"

"Man, that's sick."

"You should tell him to get me one. The wife won't shut up about it."

After Isao's incident, Youji had decided to quit drinking, too. Like with smoking, he'd probably succeed 75% of the time. All his friends had a can in hand, though. He never would've thought the sound of foam could be enticing until now. "I can try," he replied. "To be honest, though, I'm not even sure how the store can sustain itself with so little clients."

Jun was the one with a wife. He also lied a lot about leaving his vices behind. "Maybe it's one of those money laundering schemes," he said. "You know, like those Swiss banks."

Teddy, who claimed to be one-sixteenth European, probably felt insulted by this, and thus eloquently opined: "Quit yappin'."

Yamada refused to give his first name. Perhaps it embarrassed him. He was—had been, until recently—the only one with a job. His work hours were bizarre, so he could lollygag with the rest of the group every now and then. He said nothing. This surprised no one.

Truth be told, Youji could've worked on his day off had Mr. Clarence asked him to. A job well done gave free time meaning; otherwise it felt like more of the same. He'd know. The days when he woke up just to sleep just to wake up were often the most miserable of his life. 

"Could be. The point is, I won't be able to talk to you guys as often. Not during the day, anyway."

"Quit yappin'," Teddy replied.

Yamada refused to give his first name and his opinion. 

"That's good," Jun said. "Very, very good. It'll probably be the same for me soon. Just need a wee bit more time for my hand to recover."

He'd said that half a year ago.

People scooted away from them as they walked by. Understandably so. Youji didn't mind. He couldn't. They came to the park because Jun's wife, Miyo, had chased them out; Yamada refused to let all of them at once into his apartment; Teddy's apartment smelled one-sixteenth European and fifteen-sixteenths landfill; Youji was a freeloader. 

Besides, this park was nice. The shade under this tree was nice. Since the clouds seemed about to explode, it probably wouldn't be nice for long. He asked, "Did you guys get invited to the wedding, too?"

Jun groaned. Teddy nodded. Yamada hadn't been with them during high school, so he couldn't possibly know the friend whose wedding they might go to, so he couldn't say anything. Not that he would otherwise. 

"...so yes."

"I meannn..." Jun scratched his pot belly. "I meannn... it's not that I don't want to go, but... I meannn..."

"I get it," said Teddy.

Youji got it, too. "I think I'll go," he said anyway.

Yamada replied, "I'd also like to go."

"Oh, shit! He talked! He talkeddd!" Teddy scared off a couple attempting to converse at the other side of the fence surrounding the tree. Yamada shrugged. He usually listened to music at full volume with one earphone. The other one hung as a reminder that he also listened to everything else. 

...which reminded Youji: "You guys should visit the shop when you have t... Monday."

Jun scowled at him. "Huh? What makes you think I'm free that day?"

"Aren't you?"

"Oh, look at him, all high and mighty just cuz he's making hot bean water for twenty people a day if he's lucky."

"Thirty," Youji corrected.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Monday is fine by me," Teddy said. 

Yamada nodded.

Should he tell them? Yes... no... yes... yes. No. Youji opened his mouth, but it was as though words refused to leave it. They knew he was gay. He didn't have to lie about his girlfriends being boyfriends to them—never had. 

It'd be easier if he didn't remember. 

Sure, alcohol made him cry over nothing (as he once had because he spilled his whiskey by accident after having one too many), but it'd kind of gotten personal after that. Sure, he'd gotten touchy again (Jun was used to getting glomped against his will), but...

"Also..."

...why had Isao kissed him? Isao had started it, right? He had. Weird. He'd probably also been drunk. Youji believed him when he said it'd been his first, though he couldn't quite assimilate how someone as timid would do something so bold.

"So..."

Why had he gone along with it, anyway?

"...never mind."

They weren't listening. Besides, on second thought, their input would've probably done more harm than good.

Still, the fact remained that Isao disliked him. It felt as though the more Youji talked to him, the worse it got. He'd made the poor guy hyperventilate the other day. Twice. He'd caught Isao sneaking out the break room as Youji walked in. 

It was so bad that at one point he tried to smile when they made eye contact, only for Isao to look away quickly and scratch his hand so much with his thumbnail that he broke the skin. 

Should he quit? Just the thought made him light-headed. Was the reason for Isao's animosity that Youji had done something bad during that lapse of nothing between drinking and waking up? Would it even work if he tried to talk things through? Probably not, but... what else could he do?