KAGEROU DAZE 02

In the swaying train car, a slightly humid, yet comfortable breeze blew through the cracked-open window.

The view beyond it was morphing from the earlier endless string of mountains. Now it was mountains of gray asphalt and metal—the signs of civilization.

“Woww…This is great. Really great.”

I couldn’t help but smile. Who could blame me? Has there ever been a more exciting summer vacation for anyone, anywhere in the world?

The world outside the rural wasteland I was born and raised in was far larger, and far more charming, than anything I conjured in my mind.

The views that flashed by the window, things I had only seen on TV before now, stoked my curiosity like a well-stocked toy store’s window.

And the one thing that excited me the most was sitting right before my eyes.

“Uh, gross? Why’re you so, like, enthralled by that view? Are you crazy or something?”

“Hee-hee-hee! Well, what, it’s exciting, isn’t it? Whoa! Look how huge that building is! Hey, did you see that, Hiyori?!”

“Ugh, can you just shut up for a sec? I used to act like that, but this is, like, so boring now.”

Hiyori, facing me in the opposite seat, stared out the window with me, her attitude as frigid and off-putting as always.

Oooh, I just wish I could capture this in a photograph.

Before we left, I fell on my knees and begged my father to lend me that which I longed for most—a digital SLR camera.

I could hear it whispering at me now, from underneath my seat. “If not now,” it muttered at me, “when?” That was how picture-perfect Hiyori was, every instant that she lived and breathed.

“This is gonna be so great, though. I mean, there’re so many places I want to check out! What should I see first?”

“First…? Uh, how ’bout you just, like, walk around town a little? If this is enough to floor you, wait’ll you’re all walking in it and stuff.”

Hiyori didn’t offer so much as a glance at me, making the distracted proposal as she kept staring at the vista she just described as “boring.”

“Y-you mean, uh, together…?”

“Huh? Uh, who said anything about being together? Just, like, go out yourself whenever I’m not doing anything.”

“Oh. Okay…”

The conversation was over. And I never captured her attention even once.

The day after the phone call, I loudly greeted her in the school hallway, laboring under the mistaken notion that we enjoyed a closer relationship now. “Good morning!” I yelled. “Isn’t this weather great?!” She walked right past me, making me the laughingstock of the school and reminding me of my position on her totem pole.

No, Hiyori held no special appreciation for my presence. I looked potentially useful to her, and that was quite literally it. That was the only reason she invited me on her summer vacation trip.

Perhaps due to that, the frequency of our conversations was the same as always, i.e. zilch. Right up until the day we left, the only communication we shared came through spontaneous, patchwork phone calls from Hiyori. It was oppressive.

For my part, I always loyally sat by our hallway telephone, on vigilant guard duty to ensure I never missed a single call.

Sometimes a week would go by with no contact. Sometimes, she’d call me twice on the same day.

All the conversations were purely business, but every one of our exchanges were burnt photographically into my memory, to the point that I could close my eyes and recite every word.

This quiet warfare dragged on, heaping incalculable strain and exhaustion on my shoulders as it did. I could go on about it for ages. But I fought bravely—to the point where even my mother, worried over my health at first, was soon pouring me tea in the hallway and wishing me a good night.

And convincing my parents took just as much of an effort. If not more.

On the evening I told my parents “I want to see the city on my summer break” for the first time, they locked me out of the house and I had to sit there, trembling in fear after every howl from a distant mongrel. This’ll never work, I thought. I had to come up with some kind of believable reason. So I concocted what I thought was the perfect excuse—a special summer school session I could attend.

But they kicked me out again. “You wanna study that much,” they said, “do it at home!” I was forced to fend for myself against the raccoons that lurked around the farm, always ready for a free meal.

So I went back to the drawing board, reading through whatever relevant resources I could find. Soon, I had another test balloon to toss their way:

“There’s this culture from someplace in India (I don’t recall exactly where) that I want to study, and there’s this school holding a special course about them, but they’re only holding it in this one region of Japan, and this summer only; they’re having a famous researcher from India run the course, and they don’t sell the textbooks or anything here either, so I’ve got to go, you see?”

Nobody could accuse me of not trying.

Final negotiations with my parents extended to three in the morning, to the point where I was forced to make outrageous declarations like “All I can think about is India” and “If you wanna stop me, you’re gonna have to wipe India off the map first.” In the end—and with a final “Where did I go wrong with you” deathblow from my father—they agreed to my trip.

So here I am, a weird kid obsessed with studying the culture of a certain region of India (I’ll need to look up where sometime), willing to go at least halfway toward cutting off ties with my parents to earn a seat on this train.

I had all but abandoned myself to the fates for this, completely through my own doing, but the real surprise to me was Hiyori.

I was far too ashamed, of course, to tell Hiyori I slogged through all of that for her sake. “It just so happened there’s this seminar where I could study Indian culture happening at the same time,” I told her, “so my parents gave me permission.” I was expecting the full bore of her quiet scorn in response, but when I told her, she gave me the most positive response I heard from her yet. “That’s pretty neat,” she said. “I just love, you know, researching and stuff?”

You can never guess what kind of things people are into. After everything I went through, her appraisal was easily enough to change my life. I made sure to record and edit up the “I…love, you” bits, of course, saving it to make an all-important upgrade to Talking Hiyori holding down the fort in my bedroom.

As I recalled my past glories, I noticed our train sliding past a long platform.

It was packed with people scurrying to and fro, like some of the bigger county fairs I attended.

“Oh, uh, we’re getting off next stop, Hibiya.”

“Huh? Oh! Oh, okay!”

I stood up to prepare.

Struggling to fetch Hiyori’s shockingly huge suitcase from the upper shelf, I hoisted my comparatively minuscule backpack up on my shoulder.

“Okay, ready to go!”

The train rapidly decelerated, taking my legs with it.

I threw my leg forward, trying to keep from falling, but then the train halted, throwing my momentum dangerously in the other direction.

“Whoa whoa whoa…”

“Ugh. What you, like, doing? Come onnn.”

With an embarrassed sigh, Hiyori brought herself up and briskly strode toward the exit.

“Hey! Whoa, wait up!”

Flustered, I tugged at Hiyori’s wheeled suitcase as I followed behind her.

The world that greeted me beyond the sliding doors was filled with seemingly endless, teeming masses of people. I felt pushed about and constricted, to the point where a moment’s inattention seemed enough to squash me.

Hiyori, the very picture of ease, kept her quick pace unchecked as she walked down the platform. I made a solemn effort to keep up.

The bumpy yellow line of tiles on the floor, meant to help blind people navigate the platform, made the suitcase jostle this way and that as I somehow fought my way to the escalator, my breathing already a little hurried.

“Um…Hiyori? Is there some kind of big event today, or…?”

“Hmm? Uh, no? I don’t think so? I think the big summer fest isn’t for another week or two.”

Hiyori’s eyes, and hands, were focused on her cell phone.

“F-for real? Oh man…”

So that was my baptism to the big city.

I remember snickering at the TV whenever they talked about the morning rush-hour traffic on public transit. I figured they were just exaggerating for effect. But judging by this scene, apparently all of that was real.

A chill ran down my spine. What if, I thought to myself, the next train we board is like one of those peak-traffic jobs?

As our journey down the escalator approached its end, I found myself almost overcome with nerves. The unfamiliarity of it all was nagging at me. I decided some mental prep was necessary.

“Here we go…I’m getting off…”

Yes. That’s right. I’m getting off. I was resolved to make this work, no matter what. But my timing was a tad early. I was forced to make a couple of baby steps at the very end to retain my balance.

“Nice try.”

Hiyori, already off the escalator, grinned at me. I was too abashed to look her in the eye. Some practice was definitely in order before I went on one with Hiyori again.

We pressed on, only to find the crowd around the turnstiles even thicker than the throng on the platform. Navigating this maze was starting to feel like a vast, high-budget adventure film.

Hiyori, as I expected, briskly proceeded on without giving me a first glance, much less a second. But I had my ticket, anyway. I could probably just follow the guy in front of me, and it’d all work itself out.

The first computer-controlled automatic turnstile I ever laid eyes on in my life was letting people through at breakneck speed.

Does this thing really check your ticket and everything? From my perspective, it had to be letting at least one or two people slip by undetected.

My turn was almost here. I stared intently at the hands of the man in front, doing everything humanly possible to keep from screwing this up.

He took something out of his pocket, lightly tapped it against the side of the machine, then simply strolled on by, seemingly oblivious to the multitudes surrounding him.

Huh. So that’s how it worked. Back home, I’d have my ticket punched by a doddering old pensioner seated by the platform. But this is the city. It’s got technology. Technology I didn’t really understand, per se, but that didn’t matter.

Here we go. My turn. After a quick rearward glance to ensure Hiyori’s suitcase wouldn’t hit anything, I copied the man in front of me, placing my ticket on the machine, and walked forward.

It didn’t go well. With a shrill electronic beep, a pair of gate doors suddenly closed in, as if trying to pinch my legs off.

“Whoa—Aggghh…!!”

It traumatized me so much that I screamed. Falling into a panic, I shot my head backward. A thundering herd of commuters stared at me in sour silence.

“I, I don’t…Hiyoriii! H-Help meee!”

As a station agent scampered up, frantically waving his arms at me, I noticed Hiyori a bit of a ways ahead, a look of pure contempt on her face. She turned bright crimson when I called her name, eyes averted to the ground.

“Ha-ha-ha! You all right there? You put the ticket in here, okay?”

I inserted my ticket, meekly following the agent’s directions. The gates, so engorged with murderous rage a minute ago, meekly opened the way for me.

“Uh, thank you very much…!”

My release filled me with relief as I pressed on past the countless disapproving scorners around me. Hiyori, waiting for me up ahead, was the most menacing one of all.

“Are you, like, here just to embarrass me, or…?”

I could almost feel the ground rumble as her tranquil rage unfolded. It was enough to make me audibly squeak.

“No, I…the guy in front of me, he just…Uh, I’m sorry, okay? I’ll try not to do it again, so…”

I apologized for dear life. But Hiyori, who must have concluded that bursting into tirades against me all day was a waste of energy, simply stated “Just get it together” and bustled away once more.

Did I have any chance of making it wherever we were going in one piece?

Hiyori’s face as she shot another icy stare from over her shoulder all but shouted, “Try to catch me!”

“I’m gonna get you…I promise!”

Gripping the suitcase handle tightly, I kept my eyes on Hiyori, all but lost in the human melee up ahead, as I strode forward.

Underneath the punishing sun, I was cooked and scalded by beams of solar vengeance from every direction like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Just before my hit points began to flirt with zero, I found myself face-to-face with a small brick house.

“Is this it…? Are we really here…?!”

“Uh, yeah? What are you, stupid?”

After making it through that demon turnstile, I was first mobbed by seemingly endless crowds of people inside a sweltering subway car, then left to the mercy of the rush-hour commute once we finally made it to the surface. Even crossing the street was a harrowing experience. These pedestrian signals may as well have been written in another language.

And this sun!

The heat was oppressive, like nothing I could imagine back home, and it depleted my vitality with worrying speed.

“I…I’m not too sure I like this city.”

“No? Well, you’re kind of here, so…try to, uh, live with it?”

Hiyori’s face was completely blank as she held a parasol in the air, the very picture of sweat-free faultlessness.

So this was my baptism to the big city…It must have been the fourth or fifth time the thought crossed my head today.

But if I was going to whine and pout my way through my Fabulous Fun-Time City Adventure with Hiyori, she wouldn’t just turn her back to me—I doubt she’d even let me return alive.

Yes, I just had to clamber out of this pit of negative thinking. Once we open this door, we’ll be diving headfirst into a shared-living experience that neither of us will ever forget!

If I couldn’t draw Hiyori’s attention in the two weeks-ish we were due to spend here, though, I doubt I’d ever be granted another chance.

In fact, if I failed, I was faced with the distasteful idea of wasting the rest of my years on the outer edges of indigenous Indian culture. That was something I preferred to avoid at all costs.

No matter what it took, in the limited time I had to work with, I had to win Hiyori’s heart—and, someday, make her my lawfully wedded wife. Then I’d gladly live out life as a monk in Mumbai.

“Um, hello?”

Hiyori, paying no attention to my frivolous flights of fancy, began jabbing away at the intercom button.

“Hey, you don’t need to ring it that much…”

“Huh? Uh, I wouldn’t have to if they’d, like, answer? What do you want me to do? …Hellooooo?!”

Watching her doggedly hammer her finger against the intercom button reminded me of a mobster trying to collect protection money.

Too bad the yakuza didn’t tend to hire such beautiful, radiant henchmen. Then I’d pay them whatever they wanted. Mi casa es su casa.

“You, um, you think he might be out, Hiyori?”

“Uh, of course not? I told him we’d be here today, right now. He wouldn’t mess that up. He’s not you.”

“Hey, what do I have to do with—”

Undeterred by my dispirited defense, Hiyori kept abusing the button until, finally, we heard someone trying to unlock a latch on the other side of the door.

“There, see? I told you. You know, though…I haven’t seen my brother-in-law in, like, forever.”

“Really? Wow. I feel kinda nervous.”

My first encounter with a man who might become family to me someday.

It went without saying that my heartbeat began to accelerate. I had to make the manliest, most macho impression I could.

Stretching my back straight, I waited a good half minute for the door to open, my body tensed right up to my fingertips.

The sounds of someone fumbling with the lock continued unabated. The door itself showed no sign of budging.

“…What’s he up to?”

I couldn’t keep my muscles clenched like this for much longer. I began to visibly shiver.

It must have shown on my face, because from the side of my eye, I could see Hiyori give me a questioning stare, as if to say “Oh, God, what now?”

Stay cool. Stay cool. I couldn’t afford to give my lady’s brother-in-law the wrong idea. I had to put my best face forward.

With a satisfying clunk, the door slowly began to open.

“Wow, it’s about time you got that opened up. What were you even…”

On the other side of the open door was a white-haired young man, forehead caked in sweat, wearing a look of supreme achievement.

He looked quite a bit younger than how he was described to me.

I thought he’d be far older than either Hiyori or her sister. If this guy was her sister’s husband, there must have been a pretty major age difference.

“I…I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to undo the lock…”

Didn’t know how to undo the lock? What was that supposed to mean? Someone living here this long shouldn’t be having that kind of problem.

A litany of questions popped into my mind. No, no, hang on—I can’t let myself think about that stuff.

What if this guy really was family to Hiyori?

If I did anything rude around him, it’d pose major consequences for my future.

“W-wow, Hiyori, your brother-in-law’s pretty young—”

I turned and smiled at Hiyori, only to find a look on her face unlike anything I’d seen from her before.

Her eyes shone brightly, like two sparkling jewels installed in her head, and her cheeks were a vermilion red, the color of a fresh, ripe plum.

“So hot…”

It was clear that the look of pure desire that accompanied Hiyori’s appraisal was aimed at the white-haired man in front of us.

“Wh-whoa, what’s going on, Hiyori? Uh…like, what do you mean, ‘so hot’?! He’s your sister’s husband, isn’t he?!”

Hiyori shook her head, her eyes still enthralled by the guy.

“No, like…We’ve never met before. This is…Wow, I can’t even…”

I could hear something shatter within me, like a Ming vase tossed against asphalt.

The Asahina Army, the horde I thought I extinguished from my imagination long ago, plunged down again from the heavens, not a stitch of clothing among them, ready to carry me home once more. What the hell was going on here?

There was no mistaking this for anything other than Hiyori’s sister’s house.

But why was this total stranger to both of us answering the door? He had to be some kind of burglar, didn’t he? Please let him be a burglar.

Either way, I had to cart this man out of Hiyori’s sight as soon as I could…!

“Hey, who are you, anyway? This is your brother-in-law’s house, right, Hiyori?! Why are you here?”

I tried to look as sinister as possible as I confronted the young man. He flashed me a deer-in-headlights stare.

Between his tall frame and sculpted facial features, I was starting to dislike him more with every passing moment.

“Huh? Hiyori? …Oh. Yeah. Mr. Tateyama told me about you.”

The guy, his face more focused now, cheerfully padded out the front door toward Hiyori, not bothering to put shoes on.

“It’s good to meet you. My name is…um, Konoha, probably.”

“Oh, I…Oooh, man…! I’m Hiyori Asahina! But…wow, ‘Mr. Tateyama’? Are you one of his students?”

“Erm? I, uh…I guess?”

“Ohhhh! Okay! You must be, like, watching the house for him or something? He’s always so busy with, uh, this and that…”

“Yeah…He said to let you in when you show up.”

This was out of hand now. Why’s she acting so lovey-dovey out of the blue? Watching her talk to this guy calling himself Konoha, I could see a consistent gleam to Hiyori’s eyes. Like she had just run into her goddamn Prince Charming or something.

I doubted I even registered in her mind by this point.

The sound of my heart bubbling and seething in abject fury roared in my ears.

“Hey, uh…Hiyori? I think this guy’s kind of…weird, you know? He might not be telling the truth…”

“Huhh?! Uh, like, what are you talking about?! He’s, like, such a hottie. How could he be lying to me? What are you, stupid?!”

“Eep…!”

Each one of Hiyori’s words ripped my heart to ribbons, making mincemeat out of my admittedly egocentric argument.

My flimsy logic proved worthless in the face of her behemothlike aggression. All I could do was ball up and lay myself bare against the assault.

“So, uh…Konoha? Let’s just, like, forget about this kid and go inside, okay?”

“Uhm? Uh, he told me to let him in too, so…”

Then the young man lurched his way in front of me.

“Hi, um, my name is Konoha. Uh, nice to meet you?”

“…Hibiya Amamiya. You, too…!!”

It was all the response I could muster as I scrambled to smother the advancing flames of jealousy in my chest.

“Wow, guess he likes you too, huh, Hibiya? Great! So how about we, like, go inside, okay, Konoha?”

“Um, okay.”

I didn’t bother hiding my sneer as I glared at Konoha, his arms flailing as Hiyori pushed him inside from behind.

Who the hell does he think he is?

Judging from what he and Hiyori said, he must have been one of the students in the school where her brother-in-law teaches.

But that didn’t matter.

The most pressing issue right now was how to throw him out of the picture and make Hiyori turn her eyes back toward me.

I raised a middle finger at the shattered remains of the Asahina Army, howling in laughter at me from up on high, as I went through the door and slammed it behind me.