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It was another rainy day, but the weather was getting warmer again. Nagara was walking back home from his grocery shopping. It was his off-day, so he best did it that day regardless of the rain. He was glad there was a convenience store on his way home from school so he didn't have to go somewhere else.
When he was passing near a park was when he heard some shouting. He didn't understand the words, but it sounded aggressive, then there came a mocking lilt to it, and then he heard a calmer, quieter voice. He had an inkling he had heard it somewhere before.
He turned his head, scanning the area. There weren't really all that many people in the park. People didn't exactly prefer having walks around when it was rainy, nor did they let their children out on the playground. There were a bunch of boys in the playground, the ones that were shouting. They were wearing school uniforms. Nagara guessed they should be the same age as himself. And there was another boy sitting on one of the swings, a kid, his bag was propped against a pole of the swings, covered by a school jacket. His long, black hair was tied back in a ponytail. It looked soaking wet even from where Nagara was standing. So did his white school shirt. He would've thought it was a girl had it not been for his pants and shirt, the same as the other boys. Nagara wondered why he wasn't wearing his jacket or why he didn't have an umbrella. The weather was getting warmer, but it was still not warm in the slightest and the rain would still be enough to chill one to the point of shaking.
One of the older boys shouted something again, a question. The kid shook his head. Then they argued some more. One of them said something and they laughed. The kid wasn't laughing, Nagara couldn't see his face that well but he was sure he wasn't laughing. His shoulders were set straight in a strange, rigid way, as if he didn't want to be there but he also didn't want to look weak or small. He was small, though. He must've been in middle school first year, or maybe the last year of elementary school. He was small and thin, his clothes looked a bit big on him. They were fitted, but the fabric looked just a bit too much. Are they bullying him? Why would they bully a kid, those boys are my age.
Then they asked the kid a question again and he talked. Why do I know his voice? The boy asking the questions, a big one —he was taller than Nagara himself and definitely heavier—stomped on the ground and kicked some rocks at the kid sitting on the swing. The kid said something again, this time louder, with more desperation. He was holding his hands out as if to explain something, to convince them as the other boy got closer to him. Should I intervene?
Before Nagara could decide to do anything the bigger boy snatched the kid's bag and hauled it at him, yelling. The kid raised his arms to protect his face, the bag bounced off him to the side and the back, contents of it spilling around. The jacket was also on the ground now, probably getting muddy. Nagara felt his heart start racing. How am I supposed to deal with something like this? He looked at the younger boy to see his reaction. His face was still covered by his arms, then as he moved them to reveal his knit eyebrows and big eyes, Nagara saw the pink line that went down from his wrist to his forearm. No wait, no child should have a scar like that. Wait. He dropped his arms and turned around to look at the spilled contents of his bag, now getting wet by the rain. Though now the rain was diluting and Nagara could see better. He was also supposed to be hearing better but he was hearing his own heartbeat over whatever those boys were saying. But he could see the birthmark on that face, the-boy-on-the-swing's, when the angle changed. It's him. It's not a kid. It's him. Then, unbidden, his mind drifted to another thought. So we still live somewhat close. But knowing Hoshi, he couldn't wrap his head around it. Why are they bullying him? Him of all people? How?
The bigger boy grabbed him by the collar just when he was about to go pick up his belongings. Hoshi was almost exactly like he remembered. He was slim and tiny, like a bird. Not a single centimeter taller than he was when he was 14. He had big eyes with a dark outline that was his long and thick eyelashes, he had a small mouth, a small nose, small everything else. His hair was longer though, apparently longer than it had been. His face was a little different too, it looked a bit thinner, a little sharper around the edges, his jaw and cheekbones sticking out. And he was missing his signature smile.
Nagara had never seen him look so surprised and… Scared. Is it even actually him?
Hoshi clawed at the boy's hand that was holding him by his collar, told him to wait. One of the other boys, not as big or tall at all but still a giant in comparison to Hoshi, got behind him, held his arms and spread them open so he would stop clawing. What am I doing? Why am I not helping him?
Would he recognize me if I did?
But then Nagara found himself getting behind the fences and the bushes. Then he heard a slap, and right after that he heard something hitting something else, neither of those things sounding like hard things. He glanced. There was a girl now, with a bag in her hand, not Hoshi's but her own. She was a little tall for a girl and had short hair. The big guy was hunching, holding his face. Hoshi and the boy holding Hoshi were both gaping at the scene. One of the other boys ran to his friend and checked on his face. The girl acted on raising her bag again, this time aimed at the other boy holding Hoshi. He threw Hoshi back and stumbled away before she could hit him. Hoshi fell back on the swing and held onto the chains not to fall. Nagara saw how red one of Hoshi's cheeks was compared to the other only now.
The girl chased the bullies away and ran back to Hoshi's side. He thanked her.
"Hoshi-kun."
It really is him.
"I'm okay."
She sighed and went to pick up Hoshi's belongings from the ground. Hoshi got up from his slumped position too.
"You don't have to do that."
"Your books are getting wet."
Who is she?
Nagara watched them put Hoshi's belongings back in his bag. "Where is your umbrella," the girl asked. "I don't have one with me," Hoshi answered. "Why not? It was going to rain today." Hoshi didn't say anything. He just let loose his hair, shook his head a bit and combed it back with his fingers. An image of the Hoshi he remembered flashed in Nagara's mind.
"Hoshi-kun."
"Hm." It didn't exactly feel like a questioning hum, more of an acknowledging one.
"You need to do something."
Then Hoshi smiled. Not a genuine smile. Not at all. It was just like how he used to smile all the time, it never reached his eyes, it was devoid of emotion. "Why? I deserve it after all. It doesn't bother me."
She glared at him for a moment. Then sighed again. "I am your friend. And I told you the other day. I like you. I don't want you to get hurt, even if 'it doesn't bother you.' Like it or not I care, because I like you. And you still need to give me an answer on whether you want to go out with me. I can't have you getting beaten to death or anything like that." She chuckled but she didn't sound like she was making light of the situation.
Hoshi looked down and touched his arm. The scar. And he let her take him under her umbrella.
Nagara didn't hear the next things they've said.
But he saw her take off her jacket. They discussed something. Then she covered him with his jacket and herself from the views even though there weren't any people. Well, other than Nagara himself. He didn't look anyways. He only saw him buttoning up a jacket, her jacket. And she was holding his shirt and jacket, both too wet to wear under something dry. The jacket was obviously not his size, but Nagara was glad he put on something dry. He still didn't want this Hoshi who was a stranger to him to get sick.
"Let me walk you home."
"I don't think I have any other choice. I am naked under your jacket," he laughed. They both did.
Nagara was glad he didn't intervene. Someone way more capable than him had instead. Someone apparently, surprisingly, was a person who liked Hoshi and Hoshi seemingly didn't mind that. Though now Nagara felt bad about watching everything and eavesdropping.
He was glad, but he was guilty.
Once he made sure they wouldn't see him, he closed his umbrella and kept walking home. The rain had stopped. The sunbeams were seeping through the little openings between the clouds.
I need to tell Mizuho about this.