The Ex-Delinquent and the Idol-To-Be

I was happy that I could get some closure with Eri, but I couldn't help but feel that there was something that was still left unaddressed. I didn't feel guilty for my actions anymore, but an emotion more sinister filled its place.

I was worried about Eri now.

Would she be able to perform at the concert without her emotions overwhelming her?

As I waited for Fumiko after class outside in the hall as I always did, I tried to remember how we met.

That's right. It was only her second day at our school and some girl with a pair of scissors and her cronies tried to bully her.

Fumiko playfully tapped me on the shoulder just as that past memory came into focus in my mind's eye.

"Hello, hope you didn't wait too long," she said, a subtle shade of red applied in lip gloss giving extra emphasis to the curve in her smile.

She was really putting a lot of effort into her appearance for just a 'practice date'.

But I guess that was partially my fault. I had to have a serious talk with her at some point.

"Actually, you were a whole 4 milliseconds late. It's really inconsiderate, you know," I said, smiling back at her.

"Oh, is that so? Well, how do I make it up to you?"

"Let me snatch an extra piece of food off your plate when we go to the grilled barbecue place after we leave the bookstore, and all is forgiven."

"Okay. Are you ready to go?"

"Wait. You said you wanted to talk to me about yesterday, right?"

"Oh, yeah. You seemed really tense. I've never seen you like that before."

"Well, since you already gave me a story, I suppose now I owe you one."

"That's completely up to you, Kenta."

"Alright. I'll tell you as we walk to the train station."

***

In my early days as a freshman varsity basketball player, the end of my practices would tend to end similarly. Coach would pull Mamoru and I aside, and with his arms sternly crossed, he would tear into us and tell us how stupid we were while simultaneously complimenting us.

"Why is it that every time I have to discipline players at the end of a practice, it's always you two?"

Coach Kamikita was the only one standing. Mamoru and I were as usual forced to sit down on plastic chairs. If there were no chairs, he'd ask whatever student was assisting him that day to bring it. He didn't care if the reprimanding took a couple of hours.

"Coach, I was in the right. I drove in and he wouldn't get out of the way," I said.

"That isn't how it happened at all. Have you ever heard of an illegal charge, you asshole?"

"Alright! That is! Enough! Kenta, you're going to be on the bench for the next few games. Mamoru, as the team captain, part of your role is teaching talented rookies how to improve the team around them. Even if you won't be the starting point guard, you still have to be a leader."

"Fine," Mamoru and I said in unison.

“Alright, you two are dismissed," He said, sighing as he lifted his cap to scratch his forehead.

We gave each other a piercing side-eye as the two of us split off to go to our lockers in different wings of the school.

I gathered everything I needed and saddled my book bag onto my shoulders. I slammed the locker shut, still relieving some of my anger from the end of my last practice.

"Please don't!"

I rushed toward the pleading voice to find a beautiful girl with long, even strawberry-blonde hair that dropped below her shoulder blades. Two plain, unremarkable girls held her arms in place. As she struggled, a girl with long stark black hair and flat cut bangs that sat a couple of centimeters above her eyebrows and contorting her lips into a twisted smirk, she held the left side of her parted hair and tried to snip off long segments of her hair.

I hid myself behind a corner that led to the intersecting hallway, lying in wait.

"You have such beautiful hair, Kaname-san," the girl holding the scissors said with a grin.

"It's so beautiful--it actually aggravates me," she said with a sudden huskiness in her voice.

She gleefully lopped off a long strand of her hair, the left side of her front hair now assymetrical.

"Haha. Such gorgeous hair, wasted on a boring wildflower like you."

The girls holding her back giggled as their leader glanced towards them. The girl with stark black hair callously yanked her hair to the side.

"Do you still think you're better than me, you outsider," the girl with the scissors said, glancing to the side of the whimpering girl's face with a tilt of her head.

"No. Leave me alone," the red-haired girl said, sniffling.

This is too much. There's no teachers around. I might have to step in soon.

I tried to dispel the anger in my fists and attempted to approach them. The intention wasn't to fight them, but to create a distraction and let them escape. I couldn't in good conscience fight them myself. If I got suspended again, I wouldn't hear the end of it from my parents.

To my surprise, my interference wasn't even needed. I heard a shriek from the strawberry-blonde haired girl that was held back by the three girls. The bloodcurdling scream took the two crony girls by surprise, and she took that opportunity to step on their feet.

"I said--leave me alone!"

The two plain girls were still tending to their feet, so they couldn't help their ringleader. The livid strawberry-blonde girl with asymmetrical bangs headbutted herself into the black-haired girls stomach, knocking the wind out of her. The girl dropped the scissors and they plummeted to the ground with a clatter, and then plummeting to the ground gasping for air mere moments later.

The angry red-haired girl jumped onto the girl and began to punch her face a few times.

The black-haired girl's subordinates tried to intervene. With a quick first-step I bolted towards them and yelled. "Hey!"

The girls ran in the opposite direction, leaving their leader to deal with the girl who only saw red.

After a few angry grunts, the girl with the asymmetrical bangs finally let go the collar of the bully she retaliated against. The black haired girl lied unconscious, with labored breaths, blood dripping out of her nose.

The two of us locked eyes for the first time. We stared at each other, still trying to assess what kind of person the other person was. She didn't seem to like the austere expression that my eyes and pursed lips made, but after witnessing that fight, I couldn't help but question if she was mentally alright. That level of violence only came after repeated abuse.

"What, are you going to tattle on me," she said, still panting.

"After that scrap they forced on you, why would I," I said, blinking my eyes.

"I'm just tired of always having to fight," she said, looking at the unconscious girl she beat to a bloody pulp.

"So this is a common occurrence for you, then?"

"Man, 'common' doesn't even begin to describe it. It seems every time I move to a new school, there's always someone that has an issue with me. All they need is one ugly look to fight me. It justifies their dumb little crusade."

"I understand. It seems I'm not that well liked either."

"That uniform, aren't you part of the basketball team? Why don't your teammates get along with you," she asked, crossing her arms while leaning against a locker.

"I don't know. Maybe it's my talent that the others might be jealous of, but at this point, I'm convinced it's because I'm not that great of a teammate."

I slumped my head down and sighed, suddenly stumbling. I've only been starting at point guard for a few games, but my body already felt exhausted. I guess I had a habit of only looking at the player in front of me, and the basket right behind them. I never really saw my teammates. Because I was the only one who could lead our team to victory.

Or at least, that's what I've thought.

The red-haired girl suddenly snatched my hand by surprise, with a weary smile on her face.

"How about this? You get the school off my back, and I'll give you a little performance."

I couldn't help but twitch my brow. What did she mean by that?

"Wait, how does that help me?"

"It'll put a smile on your face."

"How does a smile make me a better teammate?"

"Don't underestimate the effect of a smile on a group of people," the girl said, flashing a V symbol over her left eye and winking while smiling.

The flourishes she did with that smile felt vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place it.

"Oh, I never actually got your name. Or do you want me to call you 'bangs'".

"That's not funny. You can just call me Eri," she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"And what about you, hmm," she asked, leaning forward and curling her brow, resting her hands on her hips.

"I'm Kenta, but soon you'll know me as the best point guard to come out of Roppongi High."

***

"And after a lot of breeding resentment and insecurity, we decided to break up," I concluded.

Fumiko frowned, sighing as her gaze lingered on the pavement we walked on for several seconds before shifting to me, still at a loss for words.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out for you two, but..."

"But?"

"You've both clearly had issues that superseded your need to stay together," Fumiko said.

She lowered her head and retreated into herself, twiddling her fingers together.

"Hahaha, fair enough! Don't feel bad. I know we were both still too emotionally immature. And yet, I feel like those strong emotions of hers may be her strongest feature. She doesn't hide anything behind a curtain. It's all laid bare for everyone to see."

"I see," Fumiko said, grumbling to herself.

"What's wrong, Fumiko?"

"Are you the kind of boyfriend that'd be annoyed if their partner said I love you to them, everyday," she said with a healthy, light transparent glow on her cheeks.

"I guess not, but wouldn't that be something that real couples do?"

"I suppose you're right. We'll put a pin in it for now," she said, clearing her throat.

As we continued walking, I noticed that she had the widest smile I've ever seen on her face, giggling as she skipped onward with an exaggerated sway in her arms.

I suppose she was getting tired of the pretense of a platonic romance herself, but when would be the right time to end the whole exercise? The whole purpose of this arrangement was to not give the two of us any undue pressure to get things right the first time.

For now, I wanted to get through the bookstore 'date' first.

After that, It'd be easier to assess where we go after that point.

***

The two of us continued on our usual path towards the train station, but a slender, feminine figure in a light lavender hoodie and periwinkle linen pants impeded our path, approaching at a more frantic pace that was a little too fast to be considered walking. A tilt of their head was enough for me to determine who was hiding behind the light purple cowl.

When they lifted their head, I could see the golden brown eyes and the strawberry-blonde that I've become so familiar with since our breakup.

"Eri, why did you come here," I asked.

Eri lowered her gaze for a moment, the only thing visible being the sucking in and puffing of her lips as she pondered my question.

"I couldn't do it, Kenta," Eri said, smiling wryly.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"There's still more I need to tell you... before I can finally perform at Roppongi Hills Arena."

"We should find a private place before we continue talking. Or else you'll be discovered."

A couple of students whispered as the three of us stood in place.

"You're right. Do you know a good place?"

"Yeah, but I'll need Fumiko's permission first."

Fumiko tapped her feet a few times, angrily humming to herself as she avoided eye contact.

"Okay, fine," Fumiko said, puffing out her cheeks.

***

The three of us managed to walk to Fumiko's apartment without drawing attention to ourselves. With a rotation of the key in the door's lock, the door creaked open. But Fumiko wasn't satisfied with gently nudging it ajar. She flung the door with a swipe of her right hand, the door banging against the adjacent apartment wall.

For a second, I could briefly hear the sound of the raspy complaints of the elder neighbor next door. But at the moment, it didn't look like Fumiko cared about basic decorum, as she simply sat down on the two-seat red square vinyl sofa without making eye contact with anyone else in the room.

"Fumiko, is everything alright?"

"You ask that, but still bring another girl, despite the plans we made earlier for the date."

I could subtly see Eri squirm near the doorway out of the corner of my eye.

"This seems like a bad time. Maybe I should just leave," Eri said, reaching for the doorknob.

"No--no. Stay. You had a problem that only Kenta could solve, right," she asked, beckoning Eri back inside with a wave of her fingers.

Eri slowly closed the door behind her. She cautiously paced herself around the two-seat sofa currently occupied by Fumiko's miffed figure, and eventually sat down on the single-seat sofa that sat just across the two-seater, the only barrier between them a glass table framed with several curving metal bars to prop it upward.

I meditated on whether or not I should be next to Fumiko, but judging by her narrowed eyes after meeting her gaze, I opted to just stand over my usual seat.

"So you said that you couldn't properly perform anymore," I asked.

"Um, that's right. In the past, I could effortlessly power through with the positive memories we made with each other, but now I can't seem to motivate myself to do that anymore," Eri said, fidgeting with the fabric of her hoodie's front pocket.

"And why is that?"

"I guess--because those memories feel hollow now."

"But those memories still exist regardless of whether or not we're still dating, right?"

"It's not really that easy, Kenta. Part of having more intense, harder to control emotions, means that every human response I have is heightened. That includes the emotional attachment I have to people in my life."

"I'm afraid I'm not following, Eri."

I stood dumbfounded, my mouth agape. Eri gripped her right wrist with her other hand, refusing to look at me, Fumiko scoffing all the while, resting her chin on her hand.

"Just think about it for a moment, Kenta. If the breakup was really intense, how do you think she felt about you all this time while the two of you were still dating," Fumiko said.

I appreciated that she didn't condescend to me while she was in a foul mood.

She could've just as easily called me an idiot.

"Oh...," I said, finally coming to the realization I needed to.

"I didn't just fall in love with you, Kenta. I fell so hard that I was dropping over a dangerous cliffside, over a set of jagged rocks at the bottom."

"That's a visceral image, but I think I understand now."

"The high feels so great, but the low feels equally intense. It's a lot to adjust to," Eri continued, tucking the left side of her golden-red hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry for putting you through that experience," I said, not sure how else I could respond.

"It's not your fault, Kenta. I just need to learn to emotionally regulate myself better," she said, shaking her head.

"So does that mean you still have lingering feelings. How can I help?"

"Oh, no. I've accepted that we won't be together anymore, but maybe that's also the problem. My last several concerts were fueled by a small hope in my heart, hope that we'd eventually get back together, and that we'd both be all the stronger for it."

I temporarily took myself aside from the middle of the living room, thinking about the precarious emotions that Eri relied on to fuel her concert performances. I paced back and forth in an out of the way corner.

I suddenly got an idea.

"So she just needs a new drive," I shouted to myself.

"What crazy plan did you just devise, Kenta," Fumiko asked.

"I think I have an idea of how she can perform at her best again," I said.