The First Ravager

As I gently nudged the door closed, I watched Fumiko feverishly working to finish the ending to the novel that she had painstakingly written the last few months on her laptop from the confines of a cracked opening no larger than an old-fashioned keyhole.

I finally shut the door behind me with an unflattering creak.

There wasn’t anything particularly profound about Fumiko working as hard as she was on her passion, let alone with such single-mindedness, but when I look back on my and Eri’s particular paths of following our passions, I realize that we were surprisingly different from each other.

Sure I used my passion as fuel to feverishly pursue a dream in a particular activity that I just happened to be talented at, but there was a clear difference in our motivations.

The truth about my love of basketball and Eri’s love of idols was simple.

Our passions for the things we loved were driven by a simple desire to desperately take ownership of something we could call our own. It wasn’t a coincidence that both Eri and I took breaks from those activities the moment we broke up with each other. Our dreams were used to temporarily hold back the floodgates that were dammed up by our insecurities and negative emotions.

I was glad that Fumiko managed to snap both of us out of our unhealthy hang-ups.

I took the elevator down to the left path that led back to the lobby. I went through my routine of waving goodbye to the receptionist that was always there to greet us. Lately, she didn’t look as high-strung when Fumiko and I greeted her. Dare I say it, she actually looked happy to be working as a receptionist with such unusual residents.

I passed through the automatic double door, giving one final nod to the apartment building.

I had this empathetic feeling of happiness welling up inside of me for Fumiko’s recent inspiration, but it was dampened by one particular intrusive thought.

Would Hiro ever see the result of Fumiko’s efforts?

With no other recourse, I decided to walk towards the train station, but I was impeded by another body opposite of mine that intersected a bit too close to my path. I bumped shoulders with another guy with dusty blonde hair and round blue eyes in a plain white t-shirt and denim jeans, sporting a billed-cap with a familiar spiky horn design that was recognizable on a certain canceled ranger franchise.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I was in a bit of a hurry to get to the Roppongi Hills apartment residence,” the dirty blonde-haired guy in the Ravagers paraphernalia said.

“No, it’s fine. Wait, hold on a second,” I said, taking notice of a square bandage planted on his right cheek.

“If you don’t mind me asking, can you tell me who gave you that shiner,” I continued.

“Oh, this? It was a misunderstanding. I suppose it wasn’t unjustified. The perpetrator was just a guy that was very protective of his friend.”

“So you’re telling me that whoever punched you was justified in doing so?”

“More or less, I guess. It’s kind of complicated considering we had that same friend in common. What exactly prompted this line of questioning? Do I happen to know you by any chance?”

“I don’t know. I saw that Super Sentai Ravagers cap and got rather nostalgic I guess.”

“Oh. Are you a fan too?”

“You could say that. How did you happen to get into it?”

I really didn’t like how this conversation progressed, but this guy looked too suspicious.

“I've been into it since I was in grade school, dude. There’s actually someone in the apartments here that likes them too. She’s actually a friend of mine.”

“Oh, and who would that be?”

“Fumiko Kotonoha. She used to be my best friend.”

***

No way. There’s just no way that this was the Hiro I always heard about. The timing was just too convenient. And he showed up with a recent bruise on his cheek with a smile on his face. I know Fumiko was capable of fighting her own battles, but I needed to personally vet this guy to personally see what kind of person he was.

“It’s funny you say that. I actually just finished visiting Fumiko myself. We’ve only been friends for a little more than a month, but I already feel like I’ve known her for years.”

“Yeah, she has a habit of leaving a strong impression on you, whether you wish for it or not,” he said, chuckling to himself.

“I’m Hiro,” he continued, offering his hand with a smile that matched the innocence of Fumiko’s smile, with similar dimples on his cheeks and creases near his eyes that came with a more genuine smile.

“I’m Kenta,” I said, slowly accepting his extended hand. I peered over his shoulder, gazing at the path perpendicular to the train station that led to the cafe. “Say Hiro, would you mind taking a short walk with me? I mean, if you have the time anyway.”

“Sure. I really wanted to find out more about the new friends that she now surrounds herself with anyway,” Hiro said.

What about the type of friends she used to surround herself with?

***

We continued leisurely strolling down the path to the cafe that was a little more than ten blocks away by foot.

“Say, what weird circumstance brought you and Fumiko together,” Hiro asked.

Wait, does he already know about me and Fumiko? I couldn’t stop my cheeks from flaring a noticeable crimson color. Hiro covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

“I’m sorry, was that too personal?”

Oh, so I was just overreacting. Of course, there’s an almost palpable smarminess in his slight smile that I wanted to punch.

I exhaled and tried to power through my apparent embarrassment.

“No. It’s just that she had this weird scheme of going on a date with me to learn more about the meaning of love. I can guarantee you none of my other friends did that, so it definitely stood out to me. It wasn’t until the date was over that I realized her intentions were innocent.”

“I see. That’s definitely pretty embarrassing. She really hasn’t changed, huh,” Hiro stopped in place for a moment, smiling at the empty path of sidewalk ahead of him.

“From what I understand, it’s been a while since you two last spoke,” I said.

I wanted to hear the reason he’d use to justify his decision to leave.

“Oh… you heard that, huh? Life really has a way of changing your plans. From what I heard, she’s really grown into her role as the Violet Ravager,” he said, scratching his nose and slumping one of his shoulders as he leaned away from me.

“And what about you, White? Did you ever find the universal meaning of love?”

“Hmph, Fumiko must’ve told you a great deal about me. Well, I expected as much after the way I left,” Hiro said, lowering the brim of his cap and exhaling with a stutter in his throat.

“So what’s your answer then? Do you or did you not find out? Did it justify your decision to leave on the last day of school without saying goodbye to her,” I said, my forearm and fist half-raised.

“The path to becoming a manga author is a tough path. I had to reconcile a lot after I left.”

I took a few quick steps and jerked the neckhole of his shirt with one arm. The eyes of the unrepentant basketball fiend that appeared on the court whenever I played pierced into the wandering blue eyes that wished nothing more but to flee.

“Don’t you lecture me about tough paths. How hard is it to say two words to her?”

“Because I wanted to say more than two words to her!”

Hiro jerked himself free from my ironclad grip on his t-shirt, panting as he readjusted his neckhole.

“Then why didn’t you say them, then,” I asked, reneging on my desire to give him a matching bandage on his opposite cheek.

“Because–because I had no right to say them. As a kid, I prided myself on living as the White Ravager, whose love broke through the boundaries of simple attraction. But a few days before I had my final talk with her, my parents told me that we would be moving away to a new prefecture. It was after realizing how much I’d miss Fumiko that I realized I had fallen into the most common type of love. While she developed a strong platonic bond with me, I had wanted something a little more. It was at that point that I realized that we were too different to be compatible with each other. I’m sure you’ve already realized it by now, Kenta.”

“Yes, she’s incapable of being physically attracted to those she loves. But why would you let that stop you? Wouldn’t you at least try to continue being with her, for her sake?”

“Because I’m a coward. That’s why. Would she feel the same way, knowing how I was? And if she did, would I be the right person to love her?”

The smile that he wore during our whole walk was replaced with a frown. He slumped forward in a forty-five degree angle, propping his hands over one leg as he knelt down on the other , perhaps in a vain attempt to avoid my gaze. It was only because I was close enough to him physically that I was able to hear his hyperventilated breaths.

Even if I didn’t support his decision to randomly leave Fumiko without saying goodbye to her, I understood why. When Eri told me that she needed to move to another city to pursue her dream of becoming an idol, we were both in uncharted territory. Once that domino in my life fell, I no longer believed in the path I created for myself, and decided to quit the junior varsity basketball team.

To paraphrase one late famous basketball star that played overseas, I stopped believing in the process and let my own fear and ego get in the way.

There was no end goal for me, so I thought to myself, why bother with the process to get there.

“Hey, Hiro,” I said, tapping my hand against his arm. “Speaking as someone that’s spent a little more than a month getting to know Fumiko, there’s no roadmap for guys like us.”

“I see. So I take it you found a path to the universal love that Fumiko was looking for,” Hiro said, straightening his legs and standing tall.

“Yeah. I’m a guy that likes basketball, and apparently, I once had an aversion to human love,” I said, laughing from the pit of my stomach.

“So, Zauru, then,” Hiro said.

“Yes. I’m like Zauru. As long as Fumiko understands how I feel, I don’t care about the comparison anymore,” snorting my discontent.

“I see. Well, so long as Violet’s journey is finally finished, then I think I’ll be okay,” Hiro said.

“Wait, what was your reason for visiting Fumiko anyway,” I asked.

“Oh, I guess if she asks, tell her that White’s succeeded in becoming a manga author. I’ll be in a published issue at the end of next month. And also, tell her that her light novel series is really good. While I was struggling to debut in a major magazine, her efforts were enough to motivate me to keep going.”

I shook my head, snorting my discontent.

“No, you’re going to tell her yourself,” I said.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Even after you’ve heard my reason for leaving her?”

“Not only are you going to tell her what you told me, but you’re going to tell her the reason why you couldn’t return her feelings. I don’t care if you have to make up an excuse.”

“Ugh, you’re right. Guess I’ll go in then.”

Just before Hiro committed himself to heading into the apartment building, the two of us heard the sliding of the automatic doors.

“Hiro?”

We saw Fumiko standing in front of the entrance, a complex mixture of pensiveness and annoyance spread on her face, a hand trembling on her chest.

Judging by the look on her face, it was time for me to go.