Chapter Text
"Dude, I can't right now.
"How about tomorrow? I don't plan usually. But since you asked, I can make time! You give me the hour." Hiroya stared glancing at the cell phone for a while. The word, 'can't' felt awfully stingy. Like cold spiny needles gently rested against his chest by their tips. He froze, daring not to move, as if in fear that those needles would puncture him. One minute and four seconds was how long it took. But Hiroya did not count that. He was unable to with such a heavy brain fog. He blinked twice or thrice, count lost again and went to text back.
"Oh. Okay then." He started and paused. It didn't feel right to him. Too direct and sad. He didn't want Ryota to drop everything and come running to him. He could never be remotely important enough for Ryota to care. So he rephrased, "Oh really? Okay then." The sentence felt needy now, something Ryota could potential come to Hiroya for. He rephrased again. "Hm. Fine." Too rude. "Sure." Too lethargic. "Fine." Too apethetic. "Alright." That doesn't even sound like him! Hiroya let out a short but audible groan. He typed, "Okay! See you tomorrow, then!" He took one more look and deleted the word, 'then.' before proceeding to send.
He didn't expect a response immediately and closed the phone off and threw it onto the grass. Whatever Ryota could be doing, there is no way he would reply back immediately. There was no point staring back at the phone, expeting a response and hoping it was nothing like, "Hey... you okay?" or "You know I could still come now, if you want" or maybe worse, "Screw it, I'm coming now." or God forbid something rude like, "You don't sound okay with tomorrow. Why do you want me?" or a "Be straight with me. That obviously sounds like you want my attention." Hiroya felt certain words different than others like, 'emergency', 'attention', 'need' and 'want.' He even shudders at the word, 'You' as if the mere concept of anyone even wanting to address him was impossible.
He laid back onto the grass of the embankment, listening to the gentle soft backwater sloshing against the shore from the strait. The twilight sun bleeded a briliant orange around the blades of the grass as they swayed gently, the Musutafu bridge silhouetted by the same. It looked pretty. Something he'd probably see in a painting or a high budget anime movie. Hiroya paid attention to these. And he does not know why. He had no one to impress and no one to share. He was just there. He curled up into a fetal position, still gazing against the grass. As if instinct took over, he pulled out a play card - A Joker - and nudged it into the soil, upright. He stared into it for a long while.
Hiroya felt it. The Joker. The clown. The useless card in a deck. No one plays with the card. Though with no number, its not considered a face card. People always called it a deck of 52 and not a deck of 53. Yet if the card were missing, everyone would ask where it was. The Joker was what it stands to be, a Joker. Its too bright and attention seeking to not know but worthless in any game. Any, of course, but a card trick. Thats why almost all of Hiroya's tricks involved finding a Joker. Not a King or a Queen or a Jack. Just a lone Joker. One that stands out. Besides, it always adds to a good trick, as if to his audience, the card in particular had any significance. Moreover, Hiroya tends to imagine himself to be that card, even if its for a few seconds, he puts himself into the card's place and basks in the endearing praise, excitement and joy of all the people who'd hold him up, look him around. Hiroya would feel special because he'd have made them happy. He wanted to see himself be the reason of joy for them. It would make him happy.
"Roy!" He'd know that voice anywhere. As if stimulated, he shot himself upright, contorting his fraile body around towards the source, too swiftly that his back cracked shooting a light tensed pain. He groaned, "Ow... Tora?"
She came down into the grass from the road and stood next to him. Hiroya noticed immediately her attire - she was on her evening run. Tora began again, "Roy. What are you doing her?" She squated next to him.
Hiroya tunred around, strainig a little before seating himself upright, on his knees. He replied duly, "Nothing."
"You are here for nothing." She reinstated, not believing before revelating to herself, "Eh, actually. I wouldn't look past you to."
"Uh-huh? You started or headed home?" Hiroya asked, addressing her jog. He didn't know why he asked. He knew what her answered would be.
"I am headed home. Did you anything?"
"Since when do you mean?"
"Roy..." she drawled, concerned.
"Yes, yes. I had a pack of biscuits."
“And you probably ate the ten piece. Probably not even chocolate.” She said as she dug her hands into a black sachet strapped across her torso - a moon bag. She pulled out a fresh, large protein bar. It was chocolate flavoured. “Here.” she said putting her hand forward.
“I’m fine, Tora. How else would have I walked all the way here?” He chuckled.
“You walked!? Looking like that!?” She gawked, “Oh, no you ARE eating, mister!”
He took it, reluctantly, “Well, if you say so, I guess I don’t mind a bar. Thank you.”
“Oh, I’m giving you another before leaving.” She said, sternly. She folded her legs and sat in front of him. Hiroya noticed Tora’s attention has not moved away from him. She was making sure he ate. And so he took a bite. The taste was not bland or simple. It was delicious. And Hiroya could not help but start salivating at that bite. It was too good. He chewed it gently, not rushing. By which time Tora rested against her hands on the grass, her head lolled back in relaxation. “Saw your text, by the way. I’m sorry I didn’t come.”
It hit him like a semi truck. He did not expect that statement at all. I started feeling confused and emotional, and confused about the emotion he should feel. His mind was battling between joyful and irritated - joyful that she had seen his text and irritated that she still chose to ignore it. He said nothing. She continued, “Guess we got to meet none the less.”
“Hm.” Was all the sound he could mutter. That felt wrong to him and so he tried to cover it but shoving another bite of the protein bar. Tora continued, “The show was amazing, wasn’t it.”
“Oh, yeah!” Hiroya sparked, “Honestly, I know Takeo was talented but goodness! He was really good! I really tried to expect big and he still beat those expectations by a mile!”
“I know right!” Tora joined, “I don’t think he even needs to use his quirk sometimes. He is just perfect without it! Man, I wish he could just randomly sing during the few times he sits with us.”
“Is he allowed to?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he is a singer and stuff. Is he allowed to sing outside on stage?”
“Hiroya, thats a silly question. Why couldn’t he. He can always sing to us when we sit together for lunch.”
“Ah. Right.”
“Like how you would do magic at times at lunch.”
“Yeah, ha ha!” Hiroya pushed the thought, “So... You care to see another trick?”
“Roy.” Tora leant forward and placed her hand on his shoulder, “You know I’m down for a trick anytime.”
Excited he giggled as he pulled out a deck of 53 from his pocket. He began, “So, you know how these goes.”
“Mhm? Whats the Story of the Joker this time?” Tora chimed.
“This is the story of a Joker who wants to play Hide and Seek!”
“Okay, that was a fun one!” Tora laughed.
“Let me tell you. I tried this with Kuraiko. And that was a mistake!” Hiroya sweated.
“Well, yeah! You can’t tell a story about a dragon!” She laughed louder. Hiroya chuckled as he packed his cards back in. Tora continued with a thought, “You know, why have you still not started a whole show? You can earn a good buck with it!”
“What do you mean?” Hiroya asked with genuine curiosity.
“Yeah, like a TV show! Maybe for like children. You are making a 16 year old smile and laugh at your stories. Why wouldn’t you want to share this with more people! There are a lot of sad people around the world. A lot of people who need smiles. I think... you can make them smile! They all deserve it.”
Hiroya thought about it. The thought lasted shortly. To him it was such an impossible task. He’d have to not just have to design stories on a discipline, with routines and schedules and alarm clocks, but he’d also have to turn, “making people happy” into a job. So, if he screw it up, a simple sorry cannot help him. His whole life would be ruined and it’d become the largest blunder of a choice he’d have ever made at such a young age. And whats to say his life wouldn’t be similar to that of Takeo’s? Though the experience may differ since he doesn’t have quite an appeasing family, he does have a family of friends and he does not want to be away from them in any way.
“No.” He concluded, with a stern look at the ground.
“No? Why not?”
“Its hard. And I don’t want to risk it?”
“Risk what? I mean, look at yourself! You are amazing! And it could help you as well.”
“There is so much to involve in it! And I’ll mess up a lot!”
“Mess up? No you wouldn’t.”
“I will, Tora! I always do! I don’t deserve- No one deserves my terrible...”
“You won’t grow up the more you stay stuck thinking you can’t.” Tora spoke, no longer with emotion but with a tone of parenting. Hiroya always felt weird about this feeling. She was stern and her stern voice is always a little rage induced. It makes sound a lot more like an actual tiger. If anything, Hiroya gets scared. He is scared to argue because he does not want to upset her, lest he hates himself to the extent that he would want to punish himself with the guilt of upsetting a best friend. And this mere thought of it troubled him over as he realised it was selfish of him to care about what he’d feel about upsetting Tora rather than acknowledging that he’d upset her and sadden her.
“I don’t want to upset people, Tora.” He muttered.
Tora rested both her hands gently on his shoulders and pulled a little closer, and said, “Roy. You can always upset people by not making a choice.” It was straight. But it hurt to hear it. Tora was not sure if it was the right thing to say at that moment. And agreeably so since Hiroya’s mind began to spiral once again, wondering about his choice and ineptitude of making decisions - what to do on this day, his food, his tasks, his entertainment, his path to walk, where to walk, which one of his friends to ask to hang out, if he should ever attempt to do it. He thought about his struggle with texting Ryota. And now, though an idea, this thought of pursuing a career in story telling magic. Hiroya hates it. But he also thinks he deserves it. He was never worthy to live long enough to make tough choices. He was always going to mess up. And now he is suffering the fate if being unable to choose.
“I don’t-” he started. And he saw the expression on Tora’s face. Her fur was standing, her ears perking up, her pupils contracted and she looked alert. Danger was around.
“the Bridge.” She started. Following it a distant screech of rubber and a crash of metal and glass. A School bus rammed into the metal railing of the Musutafu Bridge. And it didn’t seem to stop there.