Chapter Text
I think throughout my teen years I always wondered when my childhood ended, but also maybe I was still in it. Like out-worn clothing you adore, but it slowly feels tight around the shoulders, short on the stomach, except with your childhood, growing out of it is invisible, you can’t feel it.
You only miss it when you are fully grown up. Before that, you want to get rid of it, it binds you down, to a certain denseness, inexperience. When you're in that period of your life, you know you are still very childlike.
Maybe for me, it ended when I was seven and my father left to take some time off, to think. He said he would be back after a month, after two, my mom told me he was with another woman, and that he abandoned us. He never came back to that house.
After that it was just the two of us, she didn't have a proper job when I was little, she refused to send me to a nursery, she said it’s good for a baby to spend more time with the mother. So she taught English and Italian in our home.
When my father left she picked up smoking again after over two years and searched for a job hectically.
We were fairly happy. I loved our house, even if, from spring till autumn, ants invaded our bathtub’s tap, and the floor was always awfully cold. I still met my dad every second weekend. His private enterprise that earlier proved to be fruitless and a total failure now flew off, and his pockets were stuffed. He introduced me to his ten years younger girlfriend, Alma. I often made fun of her name, she hated it, I knew, but never dared to raise her voice at me. She always relied on my father to solve conflicts with others but never failed to criticize him for any minor mistake. In my eyes, she was a teenager who would never grow up. I thought she was pathetic.
I always reported back to my mom about all the tiny things my father and Alma fought about. “Angel,” she said, “your father will grow to be a coward next to that woman, maybe I should’ve been harder on him too.”
I only ever believed what my mom said, and she said my father was a fantastic liar therefore I mustn't trust any of his words. So when my father told me he loved me, that I was the most important to him in the whole wide world, it was piffle.
Now I do think he loved me, and I think he regretted a lot of things.
In high school, I was the only one in my class with divorced parents. Back then people would rather stick together, even if they could strangle each other, than feel like they failed to lead an idle life. Which in my opinion is stupid, but everyone has their priorities and for some, it's keeping up appearances.
I stuck out, not in a way one would like to, they told me it was probably my fault (that, frankly, never even crossed my mind before) and my parents don't want a boy who has pink hair.
I blamed my father for all of that, for my mom smoking again, even for having to work harder to get into the high school I wanted to go to since they preferred kids with married parents for some reason I still don't understand.
I hated to wear his name, so I often introduced myself as Angel, only Angel. Mom seemed to enjoy my rebellion against him, she thought of me as an ally. This often upset me, her complaining is not for my ears, I thought, but guilt always took over me, she doesn't have anyone else to turn to after all.
While I spent my teenage years alone, I read a lot and watched movies like ‘The Big Blue’, or ‘Amélie’.
I wanted to feel smart, and not mixing with my peers gave me a sense of superiority, a fake one. While they went to drinking parties, I stayed home to study and read Maupassant's short stories. The loneliness I felt through those years was suffocating therefore I needed something to take my mind off of it.
I think having friends is a necessity, humans can not exist alone, we must share. We would lose ourselves in keeping everything in. If I’m honest, high school me desperately wanted to be a part of something, anything. But my pride was bigger, and I knew I wasn’t welcomed in that community, showing them how neglected I felt, would have been a defeat.
I often visited my grandmother, she lived in the city, so it took me a fifty-minute bus ride to get there. She gave me books in English (where a big part of my knowledge of the language comes from) and cooked for me. I never really talked to her about my problems, but I didn't need to, it was enough to tell her about my day or do my homework on her couch. I used to write her letters, I never sent them, only wrote them for my pleasure, almost like an epistolary novel. In those, I wrote about how tired I get after any conversation with my mother, the dreadful days spent with my dad, no one being there for me, that I might like boys too, is that a bad thing? Maybe the term friend is more than a kid my age, maybe it can be a piece of paper addressed to a name I trust.
I was sixteen when I tried smoking. Stealing one from my mom was no challenge but keeping this from her was an exciting feeling. The first time was definitely awkward, the smoke flew back into my room, and even though I refused to cough (I saw it too much in movies so I promised myself I wouldn't be so weak), it irritated my esophagus. However, I didn't find the taste disgusting and all the Sisyphean struggle that came with getting my hands on a single cigarette was strangely appealing. For about two months I sneaked around, waiting for her to leave it on the table, go to sleep, et cetera.
Eventually, I grew greedy. I knew better than to steal a whole package, so I decided to buy my own. There was a tobacco shop only five minutes from our house, so I waited outside, careful, not to be seen from the inside, and waited for someone to go in for me.
Tough luck, my mom appeared to be short on cigarettes that day, and I found myself face to face with her.
She wasn’t mad, in fact, she laughed when she saw me. That was something I’ll never forget, at the same time I felt relieved, but also I wondered if she was supposed to be concerned. With my money, she bought me cigarettes.
“I know you would get them for yourself otherwise, it's safer if I buy them for you.” She said.
I don’t know if that makes her a good mother or a bad one.
Later she told me, she has no ambition to pay for my college tuition, so I either get a job at nineteen, or I work my ass off and get in.
If it wasn't for a teacher of mine, I would most likely be working at a cafe, dumb and not a care in the world. But I was envious of her intelligence, it made me want to know more and more. She taught us literature, grammar, and history. In our country, teachers are terribly underpaid, so there is a shortage. I still consider her to be the smartest person I have ever met, even after three years of university.
She wasn't clouded by blind faith or deep beliefs, she was the embodiment of rationality. Sometimes she spoke with such words about Goethe or Rousseau, ideas and theories, that I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. I was sentimental when it came to her classes. She convinced me that knowing, and being aware is the only way you can lead your own life.
So I worked my ass off and went to Hungary. Liberal Arts, good for absolutely fucking nothing.
I had no plans for the future, nor any idea of what I was good at, so I chose quickly and chose wrong. During the three years of it, I read about one thousand books, and remember none of it.
I studied Latin and philosophy and even attempted to learn the basics of Hungarian. Lehetetlen küldetés.
I met this girl, she was older than me. She had a strange smile like she was making fun of me. We listened to Heaven Street Seven and other niche Hungarian rock bands, did everything we weren't supposed to, and took road trips to lake Balaton in her Polski Fiat 126p.
I was probably in love, but I don't want to talk about her.
Then I dropped out and went to a whole other country and another university.
Whenever I could, I went to parties, drank until I couldn't stand straight, and made out with whoever I could lay my hands on.
While in school I couldn't wait to get a job, be a grown-up, and live my own life, now spending time studying was a comfort. I was scared, I thought I could never be a functional adult. However, soon, I needed a job. My mom said she can not send me any more money, but I know her better than that. Still, I went along with it. No matter how scared I was of giving up my easy life and jumping into adulthood, letting go of my mom's grip was something I'd been waiting for eagerly.
Until my third interview, for an office job, I didn't have much luck. This one went well.
My interrogators consisted of two men:
One was around fifty, voice like sandpaper, eyes dark. “Kishibe”, he said when he stretched his hand out toward me. The other was perhaps 20-something, around my age, with curious eyes and fairly long hair, chain-smoking. Hayakawa.
“Well, Angel, I think we can wrap this up. We’ll let you know how we decided, but I think I can say that things should look good for you.” said the first one.
I was about to stand up, extend my hand once again, and say goodbye when the other spoke up.
“You’re kidding.”
“Excuse me?” Kishibe turned to him.
I had no idea they play good and bad cops in interviews too.
“He has no experience whatsoever and is a college student which means he can’t even work full time.” he looked at me while lighting a cigarette. “What did you say? Weekends and three days on workdays at best?”
I turned to Kishibe, there is no way this is happening. He looked at me as well.
“I apologize for my partner's behavior, this is supposed to be his training for interviewing, and as you can see, he appears to be terrible at it.”
“I’m just saying you shouldn't flatter him like that.”
“I’ll leave.” I offered.
“That would be great. We will notify you via email.”
I did get the email two weeks later, and funnily enough, I got the job. They said I can start in a month. However, what is even more amusing, is that my instructor was, and still is, Aki Hayakawa.
“Was this your penalty after the interview?” I joked, which he ignored.
He was helpful enough, showed me around, introduced me to coworkers, and listed the tasks of an administrative assistant. He even handed me his number, in case I needed help with anything. Still, I couldn't help but tiptoe around him. I wanted to prove him wrong, and show that I am very much fitting for the job. I took notes, sent out emails, and whatever else he told me to do, but still, he was unimpressed. He spoke to me as little as possible, only stayed around me when necessary, and always seemed to have a bitter expression on his face. After a while, I gave up on the try-hard mindset, since that obviously didn't work on him. I found his persistence laughable, and instead of feeling intimidated by his coldness I found myself smiling about it. Only from a distance of course.
I decided to approach him, firstly because being on bad terms with anyone in a workplace was not something I wished for, and secondly, because I thought I could enjoy his company if he would allow me to.
I thought lunch break would be the right time to invade his privacy:
“Aki.” I said as I sat down next to him.
“I’d rather you didn't.”
I smiled. “I haven't even said anything.”
“If you’re looking for friends, talk to anyone else.” He didn't even glance at me while talking.
I took a closer look at him, now that we were so close. As per usual, he had his hair tied up, eyebrows furrowed (sometimes I wondered if his face was naturally so angry), and his back was hunched when he leaned over the table.
“Why do you dislike me so much?”
At that, he finally looked me in the eyes. I guess he didn't expect me to actually say it.
“I don’t.”
“You clearly do. Or you just have something against the world in general.”
“I just think we should’ve hired someone who can work full-time.”
“But they hired me so why not make peace with that fact?”
His face darkened again. “Why not mind your own business?”
This took me off-guard.
“I wonder if the day will ever come when Aki finally drops the teenage girl act and behaves like the grown man he is.” said someone from behind us. When I turned around, a woman in a suit, with short black hair and an infamous eye patch was walking toward us.
Himeno’s patched eye was known for having around a hundred reasons to be patched. She always told a different story and always made it sound believable. “You wanna know what happened right? Everyone does.” she asked me before. “Not particularly,” I answered, but I got an answer regardless, which was that her cat got rabies and scratched it out. But I’ve heard other stories, such as getting stabbed by a homeless man, or acid got in it in a high school chemistry class. We will most likely never know which is true.
She was Aki’s superior, and the only one who he seemed to tolerate. Not like, but tolerate.
Right now I was thankful for her presence, she knew how to talk with Aki, and this wasn't the first time she helped me out of an uncomfortable conversation with him.
“When will you learn decency? Huh, Aki?” she asked, and sat down next to me. “Sorry about him Angel, you know, Hayakawa here is one bitter guy, there is no reason to try to get friendly with him.” she said while dropping her arm around my shoulder.
“Leave me be Himeno.” Aki answered, and took a long look at her. They stared at each other for a few seconds until she turned to me again, taking her arm off.
“By the way, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something. Let's ditch this guy and let me buy you a coffee.”
We were both sipping our cappuccinos a few tables away from Aki when we spoke again.
“I doubt he bought that.” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“The ‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you’. No way he believed it.”
“Oh that, well, it doesn't matter, we have known each other for a while now, he won't be offended, I assure you.”
I was positive of that without her assurance, he couldn't wait for me to leave.
“Is he this irritated about everyone, or am I the only privileged one to receive such a cold treatment?”
Himeno laughed. “Ah, man, I love the way you talk, I could listen to you for hours.” She said, still laughing. “He isn’t the most pleasant guy, but in your case, he outdid himself. I’ll ask him about it if it helps you sleep at night.”
I thanked her for that.
“Though, I was serious when I said you shouldn’t try to get friendly with him. Like I said, I’ve known him for a while now, and I’ve come to know Aki Hayakawa to be a selfish man, who doesn't care for anyone else other than himself and, well, maybe his family.” This last part came out soft-spoken. She seemed to realize she was talking about a topic that doesn't concern either of us and therefore she should keep it to herself.
“Anyways, I’m telling you, Angel, I’ve seen him in relationships and friendships, neither ended well for the other party.”
I just stared at her silently, waiting, maybe she would go into details. Himeno was an open book in many senses, it was easy to read her, so only after a few weeks I already knew how to make her talk.
“This one time, he broke up with someone only because he was busy at the time, completely ignoring how the other person felt or what they had to say, he cut them off without another word. And when I say he was busy, I mean he worked as a barista.
I don't know if he's oblivious to other people's feelings, or he ignores them on purpose, either way, I would avoid him if I were you.”
“Why don’t you?”
“He owes me,” she replied.
I didn't ask what that meant, and she didn't continue either.
After my conversation with Himeno, I didn't try to talk with Aki again, in fact, I never brought up that topic ever again. I understood he wanted nothing to do with me, and frankly, I wasn't going to put my energy into changing his mind. If he really is the person Himeno made him out to be, then maybe avoiding him is for the better.
I went home when it was already dark outside. I had to stay in late on weekdays if I wanted to earn enough money to actually support myself.
Only when I got home did I see the text I got from my dad, which went like this:
Angel my dearest, how are you? We haven't heard a word from you in weeks! How's your job? Are you eating well?
If you can anytime soon, please visit your old man, I miss you very much.
Dad
I was tired, and obviously had no intention of visiting him.
At that time, I was still sulky about all the weekends I had to spend at his house and about how much I hated it. I felt free from having to do what my parents told me to, so whenever possible I went against their wish. I was so stupid.
I didn't reply to the message. I showered and went to sleep.
The next day I only had classes in the afternoon which meant I could have a sluggish morning. I planned on spending my time reading and getting ready for my classes. However, around half-past eight I got a message from Himeno asking if everything is alright, which confused me for a second, but then it hit me: Shit, I have work today. I forgot that I was supposed to go in today too. Aki asked me if I could undertake another shift just for this week, and I said yes.
I still didn't have a license or a car so either I waited for the bus or ran. I chose running since it was a little over a kilometer away and I would’ve had to wait half an hour for the bus.
I was terribly out of shape, but to be honest I was never the athletic type.
I got there in about seven minutes, out of breath and sweating. Still, I was more worried about getting chewed out by him. And just when I got to my table and sat down, Aki appeared in front of me, seemingly even angrier than usual.
“Where were you?”
“At least let me take a breather.”
“I hope you have a good excuse for being almost fifty minutes late.”
I was still panting and having to leave my calm morning behind frustrated me.
“No Aki, I don’t. You caught me. There, finally something you can critique me for.”
He looked almost surprised and like he was about to say something but I was too focused on my hurting throat. I had no intention of listening to him scolding me.
Being late once is not a big deal, he just wants to see me mess up somehow. I thought.
I got up to get myself something to drink.
“I’ll get you something,” Aki suggested.
“No need,” I replied. My pride was too big to allow him to help me.
That seemed to hurt his though, and he left without another word, the furrowed brows back in place.
Later, during our smoking break, I told Himeno about our interaction which she only replied with a laugh.
“And then out of the blue, he offered to get me a drink.” I recalled. “Does he have mood swings or something?”
She looked surprised as well. “Really? Just like that?”
I nodded.
“Maybe even Aki can feel empathy sometimes.” She laughed it off, but I saw the look on her face, she was clearly bothered by what she was told.
The rest of the day went by without any extraordinary happening. I left for my classes after my lunch break, which I thought wasn't something I’d have to tell Aki about since we only agreed on a morning shift, so I just told Himeno to mention it to him.
On this campus, I didn't make many friends, only in my Cultural theory class did I have a girl who I could call my acquaintance. She never failed to take the seat beside me, and today was no exception.
“Hey, Angel, what's up? You look kinda worn.”
“Oh, hi, no, it’s nothing, long day.”
My answer didn’t seem to satisfy her. She could talk for hours, it didn’t matter if no one paid any mind to it, or if it was nonsense, she was unstoppable.
“No, something’s definitely wrong, lemme guess, you didn’t get your beauty sleep? Or the opposite, you slept in? I don’t know if I’ve told you this before, but you are so pretty, especially for a man.”
On these occasions, I liked to mess with her a little. For example, being blatantly rude:
“I’m sorry, what was your name again? I keep forgetting.”
But this either worked very well, and I managed to upset her enough to make her move to another seat, or she ignored it entirely. In this case, it was the latter.
“Oh, it’s Power. It’s a nickname, but I don’t like using my given one so just call me Power. As I was saying-,”
“Right, Power. You know, Power, I had a terrible day at work so if you could give me some peace and quiet, just until the lecture starts, I would be very thankful.”
“So that’s what it is! Well lucky for you, I have two employed brothers, well, almost two employed brothers, so I know how to deal with stress. You ju-“
“No, I think I’m good, thank you.” I cut her off.
After some grumbling she stayed silent for good.
After my last class ended, having no plans or company, I headed straight home. It was already dark when I got off the bus. For a moment I wondered if I should call someone, but who? I didn’t have Power’s number, and I didn’t have the energy for her either. I wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with Himeno, we were merely coworkers. Aki wasn’t even an option. Other than them, I didn’t have any friends, or even people I knew.
I gave up the idea.
I checked my messages: nothing from my mom. I reread my dad’s text, but still left it unanswered.
At work I tried to cross paths with Aki as rarely as possible. The curiosity I felt towards him before completely disappeared and got replaced by resentment. Himeno told me when she questioned him about his attitude towards me, after thinking about it for a few seconds, he replied with: “I have my reasons.” Beyond that, he refused to elaborate.
I wasn’t sure if it was his arrogance, obstinacy, or something else that held him back from at the very least approaching me, but I decided not to make the first move anymore.
I was more and more convinced that Himeno was, in fact, right, and that I should avoid Aki at all costs. His presence had never been any good and it can never be. Our relationship will never go beyond this stubborn silent anger we feel for each other.
These were my thoughts back then, and now I can only laugh at myself at how wrong I was.