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When okaasan turns off the tv, he is genuinely consternated by the speed and dissimulation that follows the rush to press the button; sitting on the carpet, practicing the first chords of Radiohead's Just, it was sudden; he had only managed to see two figures on the tv, a fleeting glimpse of two people, whose faces seemed to draw closer to each other. Nothing more. What was the rush that motivated her to contain those barely visible images? She continued to change channels, pretending that it was just a routine flexion of her wrist and fingers, habitual, as if it was a result of the fatigue ... What if in that course of movements she returned to the channel, what if he managed to see what the TV was hiding, and what if...
"Ritsuka, go to sleep now. Pick up your music sheets and the headphones you left in the chabudai" and he returns, to his music sheet, to his room; curiosity is postponed.
Someone, in some corner of the classroom, annoys someone else after a letter is rejected. The rumors are indistinct, they get drowned out between the pulling of benches and that someone who shakes the drafts. Humor overwhelms them, they tell him that there are plenty of girls and then they scheme from ideas to plans, to go after someone else.
Ritsuka does not focus on what the voices say, he just listens. The pressure to show off increases in their boast, it becomes more evident when competitions arise between those who have dated a girl, who spoke more with another, who greeted another. The defining of experience and the proof of their bravery. Just as Hayashi-sensei had mentioned in class (what was the topic, again?), you must show courage, boys must speak to girls first.
Heaviness settles.
Ito Reo, from next room class, who usually walks in the direction of Machida station after lessons, ends up walking two or three times a week side by side with Ritsuka. The habit extends until both, in the absence of the other, take a seat in a corner of the stairs or stand at the entrance, waiting, without premeditated agreements. They walk around and get distracted by math homework, the extensive explanations from language class, and as the conversation drifts further and further, Ritsuka lets the words flow without intervening many times; He appreciates this new company but, most of all, he longs to get home, listen to a couple of albums, strum his guitar strings for one, two, three, four hours ... and sleep.
They wait for each other, walk, chat, say goodbye, repeat.
A confused gaze delves into their routines, stops for a few seconds when they walk down the street, and returns to its course. It seems accidental. They continue as usual for weeks; sometimes, Ito gets closer more than necessary (because he wants to whisper something in Ritsuka's ear, because Ritsuka has something in his hair, and other reasons that shorten their space) ... And two more glances point at them, some more in the following days; these are held in different measures, occasions and places.
There are heads that lean towards the ears of others, palms that cover the visibility of the voices that unfold in the hallways of the school as well. They corner his tranquility moments. So, he chooses to linger in the classroom, excuse himself that he must get home earlier, hang around the corners of the building to lose sight of Ito. Both follow their course; their routine fades easily; sometimes they greet each other in the halls, but they gradually move away, just like the murmurs and the judicious eyes.
Otousan questioning becomes insistent. It's natural. Wondering about what transcends at his son's school, in his interests for the future, what would he study, what interests you, what do you see yourself working on.
Questions usually find their space in moments of leisure, and, when the answers are externalized, he feels his father's features loosen, grow a bit of joy, an internal and inaudible sigh that will last a few days until the questions emerge again.
Sometimes he begins with the school routines, with his notes and homework; asks about the teachers, and, after surrounding him with some distinct simplicities, finds a corner, between thematic twists and turns, to inquire about a possible girl whom he may run into the hallways or maybe meet in the classrooms. Are you seeing anyone? Someone you like? The phrase "a special girl" is repeated sparingly and...then there are permissions that he did not ask for, times that he did not require and that are provided (you can arrive a little later if you want, Ritsuka.). Permissibility is curious.
He benefits from the shortcuts that his father's eagerness provides him, to plan rehearsals with his band; Permissibility is tailored to his needs and interests, moving through failed rehearsals and waking hours in practice, mini fender amp in his room (a couple of times interrupted by LET US SLEEP, RITSUKA coming from the Yayoi’s bedroom).
But, in this cycle of comforts and benefits, discomfort and dissatisfaction come together, a reminder that perhaps expectations are deviating. He begins to wonder if his father's questions will have concrete answers, or, if anything, will they have any answers.
The Shimokitazawa Garage crowd moves stealthily, taking shorter and shorter steps and pausing in the corridors consumed by the sensation of heat after the last band's encore. He wants to make his way through the people firmly planted in the room (because he has homework awaiting, because he has school tomorrow, because he messed up that last guitar solo, how could that passage fail, how could his fingers betray him!?) But he holds himself back with the conviction that he must correct the detuning of the bass and the mishaps of the drums, when his companions step out of the concert hall, and approach the exit so he be able to reprimand them.
... "I've seen it" this line sounds like the start of an enough distraction while Ritsuka awaits. "... he gets too close to Konoe, it's scary"; the disparity between his wishes to listen or the guilt that could arise from listening to someone else's conversation tries to stop him, but Ritsuka is guided by the words that do not seem intended to be hidden ... "I also heard that's why ..." "ugh, how disgusting .." The general idea he gathers is that a certain Usui ... they haven't seen him with a girl ...he tends to approach ... they swear they have seen him with a guy...
Oh. It's something about that.
The gossip doesn't stop that night. derogatory words persist for weeks; they are repeated at the Mahoroza venue, at the SDR venue, also at the ERA livehouse, at each venue where he performs. The mutter is in the middle of every post-presentation conversation, it swells with every detail the voices add.
Ritsuka's ears are full of this lengthy speech. Between these talks and the discussions that cloud the future of his band, his remaining, meager, energies are focused on shutting himself in his room and lying down.
After his gig at Half Moon Hall, his band hangs by less than a thread; it is an undeniable fact that the end is only being lengthened in the absence of his energy to make the mistakes of the other members noticeable. He comes home, leaves his guitar case on the corner, turns on the TV, changes the channels, a food advertisement, a news program, a movie ... two men approach, their noses are about to collide as they close their eyes- he changes the channel before it happens and remember the rush of okaasan a few years ago. He turns off the TV.
Sometimes when family gathers at the table (the only moment of the day when the four of them are together), there is an approach to their existence and finitude, and therefore, of duty, desires and common sense. It comes in his parents comments about getting older, with jokes about their fading youth, meeting the condescension of Yayoi and Ritsuka who see this 'affectation' be slightly exaggerated. In the course of thoughts, they state that they will only achieve happiness once they see both of their children form a family with someone respectable, with whom they will subsequently have a child, perhaps two, sustaining the legacy and prosperity of the Uenoyamas.
Yayoi doesn't seem to dismiss those longing futures, though she doesn't openly agree to the ideas either. She rolls her eyes half disapprovingly but it's more of a gesture of what it seems acceptance. On occasions like these Ritsuka used to admonish himself in silence, but he has assimilated that this is the goal, he receives that stable future. In him the imperative to prolong the family name is sustained. Even so, he manages to redirect the conversation towards what his parents did in the day, in some banal talk with ane or excusing himself under the pretext that it is getting late.
Thus, he manages to leave, intact of expectations, and heads to the studio. There has been progress, and prominent stability in the timing of Haruki-san's bass and Kaji-san's pedaling. There is no similarity to his old band, with whom had formed a cycle of unconformities and disagreements. And yet ... his enthusiasm is flanking, no surprises, he is stuck in staticity.
“How did you guys get so friendly like that? You aren't hanging with us during lunch lately 'cause you're with him, right?” Itaya is not implying something; He seems offended by the events that have left him in the background, interested in the explanation that justifies having been replaced and abandoned in the most intense basketball games. An absolutely simple annoyance. Despite that ... this takes Ritsuka by surprise. It is true that he has transferred his times to Sato, the guy from the next class, but it is because they are practicing, because he was very insistent in asking for lessons (he is still not sure if he is being a good teacher, probably not) ... but above all, could this suggest something from the external perspective? What if they began to think there was something more between them?
How quickly information spreads. How quickly they all point in different directions and create conclusions with only almost no back info. Rumors.
“Since both you and Suzuki-”
“It’s Satou” His name is Sato Mafuyu. It’s an easy name to remember.
Itaya, about to expand on his annoyance, is cut off by Kasai. She wants to know what motivates this friendship, apparently a topic of interest among the girls: Satou-kun is cool ... but he seems hard to approach, but then he suddenly got all attached to you; It is because he helped change those strings, because chance led him to find a newbie interested in guitar, because now he made a promise to give lessons. He sighs inwardly …
"Uenoyama" Oh, he’s here! Sato is outside the classroom already looking fo-
"Are you two homo?" The single question drives chills through his entire body. Itaya is also startled, perhaps expecting Ritsuka to rebut the implication. If he doesn't answer something they might assume something, if he does, they might too. What can he say, what should he say, what does he want to sa-
"Well, who cares. See you next class Uecchi" and a single sentence disrupts any discomfort that might continue. Itaya rests his hand on Ritsuka's shoulder and then disappears into the corridors (says hello to Sato). It's a relief. He doesn't need to deal with this-
"Ah, i'll get going too. It's getting late" and he goes to the stairs behind the gym, accompanied by Sato, leaving Kasai in a doubt that he considers comforting.
The burning of the blisters on his fingertips, the energy that travels from his hands to his arms: everything had been turned into memories. This feeling is almost unrecognizable. It is different, of course, the circumstances diverge from the past. But even the slightest strumming of the strings is a mixture of nostalgia and a memory of the set of sensations that used to invade him, that bring happiness and encouragement and security ... A mixture of longing in retrospect (was this how it was in its beginnings, when otousan gave him his fender?) and longing for what they can create, compose: for this new scenario. The Seasons seems to take off higher, to delve even further into their own creativity and new melodic paths. Haruki-san and Kaji-san are more inspired than before. The urge to play increases.
And now there is also Mafuyu. He progresses at great speed; A latent talent? Finger positions on frets, tuning, string tension; each step that Ritsuka now goes over again through Mafuyu, brings back the sharpness of the music. He remembers 12-year-old Ritsuka practicing to reach perfection, ignoring Yayoi's calls for lunch. It is nostalgic. It is new.
And Mafuyu's voice... something captivating in an indescribable way, it moves and inspires and shudders the listener ... But also ... There is something else in all of this, there is something more in all these feelings Mafuyu evokes ... Ritsuka has already started to grasp it: a different warmth silently emerges, it makes his heart pound… but he trusts that this feeling fades. He pushes it, ignores it as much as he can.
Ha ha ... he ... would like not to be in this shameful confrontation. He can not escape now that Kaji-san has already evidenced the state he's in; this consuming and weakening state that he still fails to comprehend. He ... uh ... he ... question is asked almost on its own:
"Am I weird?" He has to be; he is aware that this affection should not have space anywhere, that the affection that grows within him is alien to any aspect that can be considered normal, that this obstacle, not only turns out to be individual, but also defies the wishes of otousan, of the whole family. He has failed as a person, and affirms this because Kaji-san's expectant gaze suggests what is irreparable, that at any moment Kaji-san's nausea will arise, that-
"Not at all." The answer doesn't make sense. Something's wrong, he's all ... wrong, right? He can't fit into what-
"What's weird about it? That you like a guy? Do you mean something like 'I'm a guy so my sexual preference should be towards girls?" He feels the air return to his lungs, the blood travel to his cheeks, the heat that glows his ears. He realizes that he is there, with someone else, talking about this with someone. He still can't face Kaji-san, but he can breathe out with less difficulty, maybe-
"It's okay.That's what I thought about myself but, I've been with guys too" what ... did he hear right?! Between his internal confrontations, in the negligence that he tried to give to the matter, he forgot that perhaps he was not the only one in this situation.
"Or are you going to say that I'm weird?" No. Only that comes to mind. No. But ... Can he allow this? Embrace this? Admit this ... Lightness tries to overtake his body, but he won't let it. He can't finish admitting what's happening. Still… Kaji-san is so amazing. A few words were enough. This slight calm that covers him makes the feelings of ane for Kaji-san understandable. But things don't quite fit together: if Kaji-san didn't achieve stability, does this have any chance of working?
Is this bound to fail? As he thought, he cannot understand this. Should he accept this feeling?
Mafuyu tends to get distracted by insects, puppies, and cats on his way. His hands embrace most of the animals in his encounter, an almost involuntary gesture. The chrysalis of cycads on the edges of the leaves and under their footprints, are also added to the list of things that catch his attention. The last time it was about the cycads, Mafuyu dropped the chrysalis on Ritsuka's palms (he won't get rid of it even though he dislikes it, he won't say he's afraid of them, he can hold it, he can bear the sensation ...).
This time they have extended minutes after rushing back from the konbini. There are no cycads but Mafuyu stops at the caterpillar climbing the trunk of the cherry tree furthest from the building. He would urge to return from this distraction so as not to miss the next class, but... none of their intentions is to return soon, who is he kidding.
Ah, yes, Hanami is about to end: the pink petals that fly over, the breeze that moves leaves, the sunlight that sneaks between the highest leaves, how can such a scenario be possible in the vicinity of the school, it wouldn't seemed –... Mafuyu's fingers caresses his little finger, the slightest friction; he inquires but does not pressure on his tactility, as if whispering it's fine if you do not return the gesture with his palms.
Contradictions get louder. The closest chatters and the leaves hush. The friction is similar to that night when they were walking back from rehearsal; Ritsuka registered the words give me your hand, but his body held back, his words persuaded and distracted, and there was no insistence beyond that moment of contingency and expectation.
It is not his intention to draw away from Mafuyu's hand, but he must observe the surroundings, keep the implications in line, mustn't he? His whole self refuses, demands and limits, but also ...
His hand slides over Mafuyu's palm; He waits a fraction of a second to reaffirm what is happening and intertwines their fingers. His body boils. He can't help but peek to the sides just by the movement of his eyes; someone walks with hunched shoulders, someone enters the building ... he catches Mafuyu smiling sideways, but returns to the caterpillar on the cherry tree.
He knows this will not redirect or stop judgments, but he lets himself sink in the now. More students are walking around the tree. His fingers won't let go. He decides to ignore for an instant.
He still doesn't get used to some things, especially Mafuyu's assertiveness when it comes to them. I've told you about Uenoyama-kun before, haven't I? My boyfriend, was what he openly declared to his childhood friends (a certain Yagi and the other annoying guy) who ignored the irrefutable fact that he and Mafuyu are dating, and focused on insinuating that Given was taking lightly the approaching CAC (that damn blond-haired bastard).
So there are others who understand, perhaps, who might not care in the least. So, he can inhabit some spaces with peace of mind. So, he can live this way without putting himself down.
They reserve kisses and caresses for moments of solitude. Their intimacy is calm, gradual and hesitant, in what feels like a common agreement not to overstep limits that do not want to be crossed. He is careful: Ritsuka prefers that Mafuyu initiate most of the contact, still doubtful about Mafuyu's past, nervous about making a mistake, creating misunderstandings or being the cause of reminiscing bad experiences.
And, outside, they open up space in different places: they go to parks, to the movies, to festivals, occasionally their hands intertwine but mostly they only get as close as they can. Their tranquility is neither total nor lasting, but they gradually enjoy the horizons that await them. This time they plan to wander some of the streets in Yokohama; It is not a new place, they have visited the port on more than one occasion, but it is a place to which they have assigned a particular meaning and affection. Theirs. So maybe they'll hang out at Yamashita Park or visit the nearby shops.
Perhaps, if his visit is prolonged, Mafuyu could spend the night again at his house, to go to school from there, avoiding complications of distance and time ... clearly that is the only intention (probably) ... Ritsuka , your friend is here. Yayoi's voice. She is also going out with someone today, Haruki-san's friend, Yatake-san; he seems to be a nice guy, from what he remembers. Ane had commented that she would be out later than him: she still had some chores to finish.
When Ritsuka walks out the door, when the door is finally closed, when he looks stealthily to the sides, that is the right moment: his lips brush Mafuyu's cheek for seconds he wants to lengthen, but this is all he allows himself. Almost knocked down the hat Mafuyu has prepared for the sun. He greets him with a faint smile. Soft Hello. He's sure that the blush he feels boil over his face couldn't be more intense. He loves this feeling that he found and discerned on a summer.
They are a few steps from the Uenoyama's house and his face is still burning.
"Uenoyama-kun are you feeling okay?"
"Eh, yeah, sure-"
"If you're feeling uneasy, maybe a kiss will help-"
"Oi, stop making fun of me"
Mafuyu laughs looking straight ahead; the curved commissures and the barely audible laugh ... It's radiant, it’s warm. Ritsuka registers this moment among the manys that now preserve in his mind. And proceeds his own smile, he is not sure that this joy is real, that he can rejoice in these moments that actively create every day, this happiness, this joy, this bliss-
... Yayoi is a few steps behind both of them. That look from ane. She was supposed to go out later. He doesn't recognize this expression, this lamentable expression, which condemns with the eyes, wails with the lips, and pauses in a gasp. The spaces contract, a vertigo overcomes Ritsuka's body, but he is contained between his own forces, he forces himself to hold on. The return of his neck to the front road is almost violent. He ignores and pretends that this instant did not happen. He wants to pretend, he wants to hide, he should go back and explain, he should explain, his mind is cluttered with possible explanations and then ... he's back home.
Vague memories of a few hours ago, of his date with Mafuyu, are put in a corner. He can barely remember some details, almost imperceptible, that are blurred with each movement he makes when entering his house: this place of possible confrontations looming. He wants to bring back the images and feelings that he experienced today with Mafuyu, today and yesterday, yesterday and the day before, the day before and ... but he can't even rest in the bliss of his date at Yokohama. His mind rejects the peacefulness.
There are no sounds in the rooms. Yayoi has not returned. The silence is aggressive, it permeates Ritsuka's skin, shakes his breath, tenses the surroundings in anticipation of a breakup, which seems to lurk when, while he is lying on the sofa, the door opens. It can be okaasan or otousan returning from work, it can-
The footsteps approach and position themselves behind Ritsuka's head resting on the sofa pillow. He prefers to continue sliding the website of his cell phone, he prefers to be absorbed in the distance, away from this scene, he prefers …
"You like that kid, don't you?" Not this moment. This can't be happening. He shudders discreetly.
"... Shut up" "So what?"
"It's weird. It's unnatural. You'll probably get hurt." His voice is stern. It's as if Yayoi expected him to nod, stand up and apologize for his attitude, reflect on events, and shudder for defying normality. A tiny part, bordering on non-existence, shines for an ephemeral moment, a part that wants to admit that Yayoi is right and he should undo any hint of this affection. But this is not what he wants, this is him:
"... guess so". Yes he could get hurt, but anyone, under any circumstance could get hurt. Ritsuka reaches a different level of realization. This is him. This is his heart.
He reaches a different level of realization, he does so, however, estranged from his sister.
He stands up and closes the door to his room.
Only Mafuyu is aware of the situation. If you want to talk, I'm here. I love you, he read on his phone screen that night. But he does not want to bother anyone, much less himself, he could ruin the harmony that Given has achieved, the concentration, the rhythm. Some seem to notice something different in the following days; Kaji-san tries to joke in the studio, Haruki follows him. Itaya tries to make him laugh, push him to play basketball, buy him something at the konbini. Ritsuka rests his chin on Mafuyu's shoulders whenever there is a chance to hug.
He prefers not to stay at home, but when he's there, the only thing his ears pick up are doors slamming, dishes crashing, and feet on the wood and tatami. The doors are closing and opening. The daily order of things within the family space continues. Yayoi and Ritsuka avoid each other, ignore each other. Maybe she hates him, maybe she abhors him. He avoids staying out of his room as much as he can, but sometimes he sits on the sofa or the rug; he hopes that ane will sit to the side, as is her habit, kick him to change the channel or lower the volume on his guitar or tell him to heat the food of the refrigerator. It does not happen, Yayoi walks right to her room.
"Tadaima" This is the first time he has heard Yayoi address him directly in days. It must be him, since his parents aren't home. He's not sure he should answer, he could have imagined the words, but-
"Okaeri" and that should be it. They will continue indifference. Yayoi is going to go to her room; she goes a few steps down the hall, her footsteps are heard indecisive, they continue and stop, then go back, she returns decisively, is she returning to the living room? Did she forget something? Is she going out again?
"I'm sorry" his internal rhythm accelerates "I'm sorry I hurt you ... it's just ... I didn't understand ... I still don't understand but ... but I really want to understand". Ritsuka stands up involuntarily, disconnected from his body, upon hearing the shaky and breathy voice. Someone is trembling - not sure if it is he or she, both - because the vision falters and crystallizes. Yayoi has swollen eyes, she has definitely cried in recent minutes. Ane seems to want to add more words, while her lips seem to struggle to open again. Ritsuka is squeezing the fabric of the sofa too hard.
"You don't have to forgive me ... just ... you're my brother ...and" Teardrops touch the wooden floor.
"... idiot" This is the lightness that he never hoped to achieve. He can detach from subtly imposed restrictions. He won't let the tears escape, he won't. He realizes, for the thousandth time, that the urge to disregard himself has faded over the months. He inhabits this world with serenity.
"Oi! I'm trying to apologize!
"Yes ... I know" He does not have to belong to the supposed coherence that this world has instilled in him. He just has to be him, whatever that means.
Sometimes when Ritsuka and Yayoi are laying on the couch, there are a series of jokes and questions with the sole purpose of teasing each other. Then there are loosed words about what they did during the day, in college, in high school. She complains about the complications of her current project, the unfinished brushes and uncompleted drafts. He talks about the rehearsals in the studio, about buying new strings or about some difficult subject at school. Occasionally, Yayoi would talk about Kaji-san, but that 'occasionally' is lately being occupied by Take-san.
In recent months –of chills, of frictions, joy and affection, risks and encouragement– Ritsuka has wanted to let the name Mafuyu slip from his lips; talk about his voice, the fingers that are still uncoordinated in the frets, the night walks after rehearsals, the banalities that they discuss after leaving school, the smile that appears in the most spontaneous moments. And also the doubts that gnaw at him, the incomprehension that becomes present when Mafuyu wanders in silence, when he seems to be reserved, when Ritsuka doesn't know if he is being enough. What does Mafuyu think of him …
All conversations and details he concealed ... He knows that, this time, Mafuyu's name might slip into the conversation carelessly. There is no need to be defensive. He can achieve a sense of balance, maybe even, in the future, he can let his boyfriend's name slip when Okaasan and Otousan are in the room.
"Ritsuka"
"Mmh?"
"I'm glad you're happy. If you are, that's all that matters. "
There's no certainty, but it's ... okay, isn't it?
"So are you going to tell me more about the pome boy?"
"Mafuyu" he corrects. "Maybe not; this is private stuff"
"... you must be a terrible boyfriend, you need my help"
"Shut up!"
Yes. He will be fine.