In the Dark

Ichiro found himself incapable of doing what he knew he needed to do in that crucial moment.

He stood there, fixated on the button before him, feeling the temptation to press it. Despite raising his finger just before it, no matter how hard he tried to force it forward, his hand refused to comply. With a wince, the two collided, and a soft ding of a bell filled the air.

Shortly afterward, a staticky voice spoke, “Hello, who is it?”

“It-it's me, I-Ishii!” Ichiro's entire body tensed as he recognized the familiar voice on the other side of the intercom. Nervousness overwhelmed him, making it difficult to speak clearly.

“Oh, good!” the digitally distorted voice exclaimed excitedly. “You made it just in time! I'll open up the door. Give me a second.”

Gulping hard, Ichiro shifted his attention from the intercom to the front door right beside it. He nervously waited to be greeted.

After their last adventure, Izumi said she wanted to pay him back. Though he had turned her down initially, she would not relent. Worried as to what she might do if he kept denying her, he let his wonder as to what she meant by “pay back” win out in the end.

Though now, as he waited for her to greet him, he checked his outfit to confirm that it still looked good. A respectable collared button up dress shirt with matching dress pants were the best things he was lucky to scrounge together amongst all of his sports and loose fitting clothing. He even considered polishing his shoes, until he remembered that was for leather, not sneakers.

Having to accept that this was the best he was going to do, he sighed as his nerves kept building. Now, he stood outside the small, well-maintained house with an older design. Large vine plants weaved through the slatted terrace surrounding the front entrance, adding charm to the place. The metal ramp added as an obvious addition to the original entrance told him he was at the right address without having to double-check.

Suddenly, the front door clicked open, causing Ichiro to tense up again as he watched it swing ajar. There, sitting on the ground with a wide grin, was Izumi with her legs swept to her side. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that draped over her shoulder, wearing a baggy shirt and a tighter top underneath. Her short jeans exposed her gleaming bare thighs in the sunshine.

“Glad you could make it!” Izumi practically cheered, still holding onto the doorknob above her head. “Everyone is out back, I'll lead you there.”

“Uh, sorry for being late,” Ichiro rubbed the back of his head, observing Izumi pulling herself away from the doorway by using her arms along the floor. She reached the step separating the front foyer from the entrance way, pushed up with her arms, and slid her hips over the edge before continuing on. “OK, I'll follow,” he managed to say, watching her slowly make her way deeper into the house.

Ichiro thought it was strange that she was not using her wheelchair as he changed out his shoes for the guest slippers by the door. In fact, he realized he had never seen her away from her chair before. It was a strange sight, and to him, it made her seem even smaller than normal.

As he moved through the house, following the girl pulling herself across the floor, he noticed some peculiarities. Although the house itself was small and adorned with knickknacks and other personal items, each step felt spacious, as if everything was pushed away from the center. Additionally, everything seemed lower than Ichiro was used to—not on the ground, but common household items were closer to the floor than usual.

As he passed through the living room, Izumi reached the sliding door that led to the backyard. She grabbed a handle bolted just below the original one and slid it open, inviting him outside.

“Hey, Mom! Dad,” she called out as she moved out onto the wooden porch attached to the house. She motioned for Ichiro to join her, saying, “This is my friend, Ishii, I told you about.”

Stepping out from the living room onto the small porch, Ichiro finally had a full view of the backyard, which was small but larger than he had expected. A small white table with a red umbrella stood in the center, providing seating for four. At one of the seats sat a middle-aged woman who, even behind her sunglasses, bore a striking resemblance to Izumi. Ichiro could tell that she was Izumi’s mother. Their faces were almost the same, only looking older just slightly.

And that would mean the slender man tending to the portable grill was her father. Mizuki stood next to him, offering her assistance. Ichiro noticed that he was much taller than the man, almost a head's height difference.

Taking in the sights of Izumi's family, he realized that, apart from them all being quite short, explaining why she seemed small compared to him, they were looking at him with a peculiar expression. Her parents appeared concerned and confused, while Mizuki gave him a half-lidded glare, as if questioning why he was there.

“Uh, hi,” Ichiro mumbled, attempting to make a good first impression but struggling to find the right words. “My name is Ichiro Ishii. It's a pleasure to meet you all.” He gave a slight bow as he spoke, reaching out his hand like a businessman towards her father. Mr. Nakagawa approached him and sweat began to bead on his neck as his nerves were once again getting the better of him. The older man looked at his hand, then without acknowledging it, turned towards his daughter.

“So, this is your friend Ishii, the one you spoke of, Izumi?” her father inquired, scratching the bald spot on his head, still looking concerned. Ichiro, still bowed, glanced at Izumi, hoping for some guidance. She had pulled herself to the edge of the porch, where her wheelchair stood in the grass, and maneuvered herself into it again. Pushing herself away from Ichiro, she made her way to her father’s side.” I thought you mentioned it was a girl you were friends with,” he said, smiling and chuckling, while wrapping an arm around his daughter.

“No, silly,” Izumi giggled, playfully patting her father's arm. “I told you he was a guy; I'm sure I did.”

“Right,” he replied, smiling at his daughter before glancing up at Ichiro with an expression filled with distrust and disgust.

Ichiro felt a sense of unease settle over him as he moved upright again, wondering what went wrong at that moment. Even Izumi's mother cast a judgmental look over the rims of her sunglasses.

“Real quick, though,” Mr. Nakagawa turned towards his daughter with a warm smile on his lips, "why don’t you go help your mother get the table set for us to eat OK?” Izumi nodded and hugged her father at the hip before moving her chair over the grass towards the table. The older man kept smiling and gave her a soft wave as she left, but once he was out of her line of sight, his smile turned flat, his eyes narrowed.

“My eldest daughter has talked about you quite a bit.” he crossed his arms as he looked over at the teen boy before him. Ichiro was hoping his outfit was not making this worse at this moment. “She seems quite enamored by you.”

Ichiro felt his face flush at her father’s choice of words. “I don’t know anything about that. I just hang out with her on occasion.” He wanted to tell him about the list and the real reason behind their adventures, but he remained quiet, just in case. Though, his fingers did instinctively move to his pants pocket, where he could feel the paper beneath the fabric.

“Can you do me a favor then,” Mr. Nakagawa stepped closer as he kept his voice low. “I don’t know what you expect out of this relationship with my daughter, but I am going to kindly ask you to stop bothering her.”

“Bothering her?” Ichiro began to question the man, but he was cut short before he could continue.

“Like I said, I don’t know if you are looking for some sort of superiority complex fulfillment or even worse as fetishization,” her father did not hold back his words as he kept his tone even but his eyes intense on Ichiro, “but don’t you dare use my daughter for your sick fantasies.”

“I don’t know what you are-” Ichiro’s voice began to rise, but was quickly quelled by Mr. Nakagawa’s.

“Do my wife and me a favor, don’t talk to my daughter anymore after today. Do you understand?”

Ichiro felt his blood begin to boil. He wanted to sock the old man right in the face, but he kept his fist clenched at his side. He prepared to deliver his rebuttal, one that involved him not doing whatever he was being accused of and that Izumi could be friends with him if she wanted to.

But instead, nothing came out as he pursed his lips in a scowl towards her father. Right then, Izumi called for the two of them, waving them both over to the table. They remained in a deadlock staring contest for another second longer, before Mr. Nakagawa broke first, returning the smile to his face as he walked over to join his family by the grill. Ichiro hesitantly followed slowly at a distance.

“Well, since you're here and the food is ready, I guess we can share our meal,” Izumi's father sighed, taking the food off the grill. He moved across the yard and offered a skewer to Ichiro, which was entirely stacked with veggies, just peppers and onions, without any meat.

Ichiro glanced at the other skewers he had in his other hand, noticing the balance between meats and veggies, some even being slightly more meat-heavy. Despite his preference, he accepted the skewer, saying, “Thank you, I appreciate it,” and took a bite. He glared over at the old man, not even flinching as the bitter tastes took over his mouth.

Izumi's father continued to gaze at him with an intense stare, but he nodded slightly and brought the platter of shish kabobs to the table, cheerfully announcing, “Alright, everyone! Food's ready! Come grab one!” Everyone rushed to the table to get their portions, smiling and thanking the cook, who blushed and modestly denied his culinary skills.

Ichiro observed them happily eating and chatting at the table. Then Izumi locked eyes with him and waved for him to come closer to the table. “Come on over here and join us!” But he declined with a soft smile, turning around, taking a seat at the edge of the porch and enjoying another bite of his veggie kabob. She seemed puzzled but returned to eating with her family.

Silently, Ichiro watched them interact, laughing and talking with one another. The happy family that seemed to love and cherish each other. He couldn't quite put his feelings into words, but he felt a sense of emptiness within.

“Mom and dad don't like you,” a voice broke the silence beside him, pulling him back to reality. He turned to see Mizuki sitting there, watching her parents and sister with him. Ichiro hadn't noticed her leave and joined him until she spoke up.

“I could tell,” he politely chuckled and took another large piece of onion off and chewed it as best he could before swallowing. Right as he was able to force it all down, she offered up her uneaten one.

“Here, trade.” she offered. Ichiro only accepted because he didn’t want to upset her in the slightest. “It's not that they think you are a bad guy or anything.”

“Really?” he asked earnestly through a mouthful, “Then what is it?”

“They are worried about Izumi,” she replied, leaning back on her arms and continuing to watch her family.

“I can tell,” Ichiro smiled, leaning forward, “They are good parents that way. My parents told me that girls' parents would treat me this way. I guess they were right,” he chuckled at the thought.

The younger girl continued with a soft voice, “I just wanted to let you know, you are her only friend.”

Ichiro turned towards her, his brow raised in confusion. He wanted to ask if she was sure, but an image of her sitting alone in the classroom, staring out the window at the sky, told him all he needed to know.

Trying to break the awkwardness of the air between them at that moment, Ichiro chuckled, “You seem more talkative than normal.”

Mizuki didn’t respond, only kept watching her family laughing and talking while they ate. Taking another bite, Ichiro let a soft silence settled between them while the others conversed among themselves.

Then Mizuki finally broke the silence.

“Do you know about Izumi's condition?”

Ichiro glanced to the side, still chewing on the last bite from the skewer Mizuki had given him. Though she wasn't looking at him directly, it was evident that she was waiting for an honest response. “I… never asked,” he replied after carefully considering his words.

“She probably wouldn't tell you,” Mizuki sighed, laying back and staring up at the overhang of the house. They sat in silence for a while longer. “Long story short,” she began again, “it's a tumor. They think she is over it for now, but there's no way of knowing if it will come back or not.”

Ichiro took a few seconds to process this information. “Is it deadly?” he asked softly, shifting his gaze from the younger sister to the elder one.

“Not normally, it's benign,” Mizuki answered matter-of-factly, “for now at least, but who knows.” Ichiro couldn't help but keep his eyes on Izumi, watching her happily laughing with her parents. Mizuki continued, “They just don't want to lose their daughter, as any parent would. They want to keep her close and never have to worry about letting her go.” She rose from lying down and stood next to Ichiro, her small hands clenched at her sides. “And I'm with them. I don't want to lose my sister.”

“I understand,” Ichiro replied, his gaze resolute as he looked back at Mizuki.

She turned to face him directly for the first time since their conversation began. “So just know, Mom and Dad don't dislike you. You are her first and only friend since she went into the hospital. And you are all she can talk about now. They just want her to be happy. It's all really confusing for them, so they are just overreacting.”

Ichiro nodded in response, his eyes locking with Mizuki's as they shared a moment of understanding. Shortly after, she sighed with relief and began to walk back to rejoin her family.

But Ichiro called out, just loud enough for Mizuki to hear, “Just so you know, I've been keeping an eye on her. I am not doing it because you asked. But because I am her friend.”

Mizuki paused, her head lowered and her shoulders trembling, but she raised it up, wiping one of her eyes as she replied, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

She then turned and ran back to rejoin her family, while Ichiro smiled, observing their happy moment from his spot on the porch.