Torumaru and the Bullies

                Somewhere outside the window, the ocean rushed along the coast, waves breaking as fishing boats cut between them, creating new crests on the water in the push to reach the fish. Seafoam scattered in the air, a flash of white among the marine layer, before dissolving in the in between, not quite water, not quite sky. On the other side of the window, in a small room of a small home in Urayasu, Torumaru rolled over and fell out of his bed. Stunned into awareness, he stood up and jerked his head about, blearily taking in his room. His gray eyes rested on his own reflection, and he noticed his black hair hanging in a mess just above his eyebrows as he tried to make sense of the gold tint his face seemed to have. He squinted and frowned until he registered his own name; the wall he stared at held a small, engraved golden plaque which read: “Congratulations to the new Judo Club Captain, Torumaru Kamimura”. On reading this, Torumaru’s eyes flew open, and his head craned toward the clock on the wall opposite his bed.

                7:23.

                “Shit!” Torumaru scrambled to his closet, grabbed a school uniform shirt and tossed it over his shoulder, then moved to his dresser and did the same with a belt and pair of pants. He grabbed a pair of socks and held them curled in his fist, and without stopping, he evacuated his bedroom, raced down the hall, and came skidding to a halt just before the door leading to the living room, at which point he dropped the socks, pants, and belt, and pulled the shirt over his bare chest. After struggling with the buttons, he pulled on his pants, then tucked his shirt in before putting the belt and socks on as well. He then opened the door, stepped into the living room, and was promptly hit over the back of the head.

                “You are so lazy, Torumaru! The family is already out fishing, and you were supposed to help them this morning! Even if you don’t want to be a fisherman, you live in our home and you will respect our rules! And how many times do I have to tell you not to change in the hallway?!”

                As his mother scolded him, Torumaru scratched at the back of his head. He was nearly seven inches taller than her despite only being fourteen, but even looking down at her he felt dwarfed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in so late. Why didn’t you wake me?”

                Not a moment later, Torumaru regretted that question. She hit him on the back of the head again before yelling, “how old are you, Torumaru?! Are you incapable of taking care of yourself? It’s not that hard to set an alarm!”

                “W-well, I thought I did,” Torumaru muttered, scratching at the back of his head again. “I don’t remember turning it off, anyway. I’m really sorry, I mean it! It won’t happen again—”

                “You say that every morning, but every morning, here we are—”

                A gentle knock came from the front door. Torumaru’s face lit up immediately. “Kazu’s here, gotta go now, mom!”

                “You haven’t eaten breakfast yet!” she yelled after him as he ran to the door.

                His shoes and schoolbag sat next to the door, and he slipped on the shoes and picked up his bag. “I’ll just buy some food at school!” He ignored her cries about where the money came from in favor of opening the door and smiling brightly. “Good morning, Kazu!”

                “Missed breakfast again, huh? At this rate, it’s a wonder you eat at all, Toru.”

                Torumaru stepped outside and closed the door behind him before patting Kazu gently on the shoulder. He stood four inches taller than Kazu, but he never had to look down to speak to him. Both started walking down the street before Torumaru spoke. “It’s alright, I still have money left over from fishing in the summer, so it’s not really costing them anything. She’s mostly yelling at me for sleeping in. I was supposed to help them bring out the boat this morning.”

                Kazu frowned at him; for some reason, Torumaru found it cute. “Toru, you can’t go letting your family down like that! That’s really unlike you.”

                Being scolded by his mother was one thing, but Torumaru felt his head slinking down into his shirt as Kazu spoke. “I know, I know, I didn’t mean to! It’s just lately I’ve been really tired. I don’t know why, really.” In truth, Torumaru had an idea why, but he wasn’t going to bring it up with Kazu, of all people.

                “It’s probably because you’ve been working the club so hard, Toru. You’ve been having practice twice a day ever since school started back up.”

                “Of course I have!” Torumaru replied, staunch. “I wanted the team to be in shape so we can put on a good show for the new recruits today! Besides, I want them to make it to the championships this year. It doesn’t do me much good to be the national champion when my own team doesn’t even qualify for the team championships!”

                Kazu laughed, which Torumaru found odd. “What’s so funny about that?”

                “Because that’s how you always are, Toru. You’ve been the national champ for the individual competition two years in a row, even though the team didn’t make it to the finals either year.”

                Torumaru stopped walking, eyes following Kazu’s head as it bobbed ahead of him a few paces before stopping to look back at him. “Are you okay, Toru?”

                For a moment, Torumaru said nothing. He could hear the waves raking the shore in the distance, and the sound echoed in his head, reverberating along with his thoughts. He found himself sailing, net in hand on his family’s boat; then kicking afloat in the ocean; then swimming alone, absorbing the salt and cold; then swimming with his family; then with Kazu, as they had during summer, flinging foam at one another from closer and closer until Kazu hit him on the back of the head.

                “Earth to Torumaru, we’re gonna be late!”

                Torumaru blinked and shook his head. “A-Ah, right! Sorry about that, I zoned out or something. Let’s go, then!”

                The rest of the walk passed in relative silence, Kazu and Torumaru both aware of the other’s regular schedule. Kazu mentioned something about homework, to which Torumaru shrugged before remarking he hadn’t really understood the work. Kazu laughed, and they returned to a comfortable sort of quiet, the ocean rolling softly in the background.

                Torumaru found the sound endearing, as though the sound were a larger part of himself, outside of himself, crashing into his own person before pulling him into the sea—and he found this all normal, sinking into the water as he was dragged out by the riptides, at one with the rolling motion surging back and forth around him. The sensation was familiar, something that had been a part of him perhaps longer than he had been a part of himself, and he welcomed the shifting water around him, stretching out and taking in his surroundings: he knew the ocean to be murky, but his sight remained unhindered for a long distance around him, the gray-green tint spread out for hours and days; and his feet sank deep into the sand, rooting him among the ocean, and he could feel the whole world spinning, feet stuck still as his body swayed, tossed about by shifting waves; and then a small light flickered above the water, and Torumaru found himself reaching for it, feet slipping out from the sand as his body floated toward the surface; and in a moment he was at the surface, head bobbing above the waves as a small boat sailed by, and he smiled when he recognized the boat as his family’s, the light on deck being the light he’d seen from under the surface; and on the boat was a familiar face, and Torumaru smiled again, aware of the warmth of the water, the warmth he felt inside himself—

                “Kamimura! Answer the question!”

                A hand slammed down and Torumaru jerked up from his desk, eyes wide. “I-The, uh, the answer is…uh, could you repeat the question?”

                The class erupted into laughter as for the fourth time that day, a hand rapped at the back of Torumaru’s head. “Kamimura, this is the third time this week I’ve caught you asleep, and it’s only Tuesday!”

                Torumaru said nothing; the wood pattern on his desk was suddenly more interesting. However, he forced himself to look at the board, scanning the problem and slowly (Torumaru never hated math quite as much as when he had to answer in front of the class) coming to a conclusion.

                “Well? Answer the question! If you don’t answer correctly I will not let you leave for break!”

                “The, uh, the answer to the question is negative two, sir.” After a small pause during which everyone stared at him, Torumaru added, “I think.”

                From a few seats over, Kazu laughed and clapped his hands. The teacher frowned and hit Torumaru over the head once more, for emphasis. “Stop falling asleep in my class, Kamimura. It’s bad enough I had to teach your siblings and cousins, and your parents and their cousins as well, but even worse that your study skills are perhaps even more lacking than all of theirs combined. I will not tolerate slacking from you.”

                Torumaru nearly retorted that he still had two younger siblings and at least three younger cousins, but as his mouth opened, the bell rang. The class at large stood and left, though Torumaru remained seated. A moment later, Kazu and another classmate were standing next to Torumaru’s desk.

                “You’ve gotta stop sleeping so much, Torumaru. You’re never going to graduate, at this rate!”

                “No need to worry about me, Hiromi, I’ll be fine. After all, I can get the answer eventually.”

                “Not always the right answer, though,” Kazu said, grinning and patting Torumaru on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get some food, I’m hungry.”

                Hiromi headed toward the door as Torumaru stood up, but before he was standing at full height, he felt part of himself hit his desk. “Go on ahead with Hiromi, Kazu. I need to use the bathroom first.” He quickly pushed past Kazu and bolted out of the classroom, determinedly not making eye contact with anyone at all.

                By the time he’d gone to the bathroom and gotten food, Kazu and Hiromi weren’t at the school’s food counter, so Torumaru headed for the roof, finding both of them in their usual place.

                “Took you long enough, Toru! Did you get stuck in the toilet or something?”

                Torumaru’s face flushed red as he sat down next to Kazu, opening the roll he’d bought from the food counter. “The stalls were full, I had to wait a bit, that’s all.” Before Kazu could as any more questions, Torumaru took a large bite of the roll, biting down just hard enough that the roll hung from his mouth without him holding it.

                “That’s all you’re eating?” Kazu turned his head to stare at Torumaru, surprised. “The next chance you’ll get to eat is—”

                “—juth befhore judo,” Torumaru said around the roll, not bothering to remove it to talk. “Tho I can eath befhore practhithe—”

                “—but you never do, Torumaru,” Hiromi said, leaning in from Kazu’s left to join the conversation. “And then you’re always starving on the walk home.”

                Before Torumaru could reply, Kazu reached a hand up to hold the roll hanging from Torumaru’s mouth. “And you shouldn’t eat like that, your roll will fall to the floor and then what will you do?”

                Torumaru leaned back, surprised by Kazu’s movement. One part of his brain instinctively thought, ‘I’d pick it back up and eat the rest of it,’ but the rest of his brain was so busy being surprised that the words never made it to his mouth. His teeth unclenched, and the roll fell into Kazu’s hands; a moment later, Torumaru took the roll back, face red again. “It’s no big deal, really, I bought a sandwich for later, I’ll eat it before judo if I get hungry…”

                The conversation turned to other things, and Torumaru let Kazu and Hiromi talk without giving the conversation much thought. He stared up at the sky, where the marine layer was slowly beginning to dissipate, and he thought he could see a blurry crack in the midst of it, as though something was pulling the fog in two at that spot, wrenching apart the haze to let the sky seep in. Torumaru pondered this for a while, and before he knew it, he found himself staring at the clock, watching seconds tick into minutes tick into hours as he slowly recognized that the break had ended. He smiled, remembering how many people had signed up for the judo club. “Hopefully none of them changed their minds,” he muttered to himself.

                “Kamimura, answer question 4, please.”

                “I have no idea,” Torumaru replied idly, not bothering to look at the board. It was a different teacher, he knew that much, but despite the tension he felt radiating from the front of the room, and despite the laughter from the class, Torumaru’s focus was on judo as he watched the clock move, slowly and more slowly as it approached—

                “Kamimura, I think I misheard what you said. Please answer question 4 again, so I can be sure I heard you correctly.”

                At those words, Torumaru looked forward, realizing it was a different subject than he thought it was. “Oh, I-I’m sorry, ma’am, the answer is…uh, the answer is sedimentary?” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Torumaru was grateful that science made more sense than math did.

                “That is correct. Thank you, Kamimura.”

                Torumaru let out a silent sigh of relief, then turned his head back toward the clock, delighted to find that it was two ticks away—then one, and then the bell rang and Torumaru leaped to his feet, grabbing his bag and heading for the door.

                Not two minutes later, Torumaru stood naked in the school’s locker room, eagerly pulling on his dogi. Once it was on, he all but dashed out of the locker room, moving rapidly until he reached the room where they held judo practice. Then he stopped. And waited. He was eager and anxious, as he had been the year before. Torumaru took his position as captain seriously, so seriously that when he found himself taking roll 15 minutes later, and then realized he had a group of 14 new recruits along with the returning 12 members, he felt himself tense up.

                “This is the biggest group of recruits the judo club’s ever had,” he said to himself, working down the list of students to be sure he recognized them all. Once he was sure he had, he set the roll sheet down, took a breath, then spoke. “Hello everyone! I’m Torumaru Kamimura, and I’m the judo club captain. Normally we would just start working on techniques, but with this many new recruits, that doesn’t make sense. So we’re going to pair all of you new members up with one another to see what you can do, and then this afternoon we’ll work on techniques and form.”

                As he moved through the group and paired the first-years together, Torumaru was approached by an eager second-year whose eyes were shining gleefully. “Captain, captain! You’ll spar with me today, right?” As he spoke, one of his arms slowly snaked around Torumaru’s right arm.

                Without a moment’s hesitation, Torumaru grabbed, flipped, and pinned him to the floor, grinning. “That’s not something  you can just demand of me while I’m trying to take care of the first-years, Hiro!” Emphasizing his point, Torumaru pulled on one of Hiro’s arms.

                “Ow, ow, ow, okay, I give!”

                Feeling Hiro flailing underneath him, Torumaru smirked and stood up, watching the first-years who had begun to spar. As Hiro climbed to his feet and dusted off his dogi, Torumaru took in each match and made mental notes of each first-year. “They’re pretty good, this year. There’s work to do, but this should be a good team.”

                “They’re not as good as you, though,” Hiro said, punching Torumaru lightly before giving him a hug. “You’ve got the championship won already! You’re the best!”

                Torumaru shook Hiro off, shrugging. “I haven’t won anything yet, there’s still a long way to district finals, never mind the championships.” Though he stopped talking, and returned to watching the first-years, Torumaru could feel Hiro watching him silently. Some part of his mind found this unnerving; Hiro had been prone to stare at Torumaru the previous year, but Torumaru found it perhaps more strange now, as they’d been teammates for a year, and it was common knowledge that Hiro would be named judo captain once he graduated. Torumaru figured Hiro should be well past the “staring like a first-year” stage, at the least. Still bothered by Hiro’s staring, Torumaru walked away from him and moved around the room, taking more mental notes and finding himself more excited about the team, and about life, and before he knew it Torumaru was sitting back in class, staring at a book he hadn’t read with about as much interest as he’d had in math.

                “Kamimura, what are your thoughts on the passage?”

                Grimacing, Torumaru looked up from his book. “I…well, uh, I didn’t like it very much. It felt like, uh, it felt like the writer didn’t want me to enjoy it, anyway. It’s all complicated and hard to understand…”

                Torumaru felt himself drifting off as he spoke, the tone of his own voice rolling along into the board, and then into his book, and then into his desk; at some point, he stopped seeing the places his voice was going, and at another, he lost track of his voice entirely, until he wasn’t sure if he was actually speaking or not in the first place. He tried to make sense of this for some time, opening and closing his mouth to see if any noise came out; after trying this without being able to measure any results, he closed his mouth again. He felt the sun settle on his skin a short while later, and he found its warmth inviting, so he shifted to his left, toward the window, toward the sun, and for a moment he felt himself flying, suspended somewhere between air and earth—yet, arguably in motion—until he opened his eyes and realized he’d slipped off his desk. Miraculously, his left hand hit the floor first—he pushed his weight to his hand and managed to stabilize himself before the rest of him hit the floor as well.

                “Kamimura, what are you doing?”

                “I-I dropped my pen, I’m just picking it back up, is all,” he stammered, aware of how he must have looked, body contorted in his chair. At some point he actually had dropped his pen, and it was with more than a small bit of relief that Torumaru resurfaced above his desk, pen in hand. Without making eye contact with anyone, he wrote some things down, glancing up at the board occasionally as though he were copying from it.

                The bell rang a while later, at which point Torumaru packed his bag and stood up, stretching his arms and turning to face Kazu and Hiromi. “I’m off to judo, then. Are you two going home?”

                “No, I’ve got council things to do today,” Hiromi replied, putting her pen case into her bag. “I’ll probably be here later than you.”

                “Class president has more work to do, huh?” Kazu goaded, grinning.

                “I always forget you’re class president,” Torumaru mused.

                “How do you forget? I take attendance every day.”

                Torumaru ignored her. “So, what about you, Kazu?”

                Kazu looked away, quiet. “I’ll just hang out here until one of you is ready to go. My parents are out on business still, so I don’t need to be home at any particular time.”

                Hiromi looked at Kazu oddly, then pointed the same look at Torumaru before turning back to Kazu again. “Are you sure, Kazu? I mean—”

                “It’s fine, really!” Kazu replied. “I’ll just stay here, out of the way, until one of you is finished.”

                Torumaru glanced at the two of them for a moment. After that, he laughed. “Alright, Kazu, I’ll meet you outside the locker room once I’m done with judo, you can come have dinner at my place.” He smiled, then looked at the two of them once more and laughed again. “So are you two dating or what?”

                “What?” Kazu replied, taken aback.

                Hiromi shook her head at Torumaru, then gave him a look. “Aren’t you going to be late for judo?”

                Without a word, Torumaru bolted for the door, and he was once again naked in the locker room not two minutes later, eagerly pulling on his dogi. A small part of his mind was still pondering Kazu and Hiromi, and that look Hiromi had given him. It was that ‘class president’ look she gave him when she knew something he didn’t; he wasn’t bothered by her knowing something he didn’t (he was quite used to that, with how often he had to ask her for help with schoolwork), but he wondered what it was she knew. By the time he’d run out of possibilities—he hadn’t put much thought into it—he was once again standing in front of the judo club, scanning to be sure everyone had come—just to be interrupted by Hiromi, who came running straight for him.

                “Torumaru, come quick, please! Kazu’s in trouble!”

                “Again?!” Frowning, Torumaru turned to Hiro and asked him to watch over the group before he stormed out of the room, Hiromi following right behind him. She pointed to the door at the end of the hall and Torumaru ran to and through it, coming to a stop outside. He craned his head, looking around, until he heard a whimper from his left, and he scrambled around the corner in time to see a group of four guys surround a small mass with his back to the building, clutching his chest with both arms.

                “Kazu!” Torumaru shouted. At his shout, three of the four looked up, surprised.

                “I need to get home now, Tadashi.”

                “Yeah, Tadashi, I’ve got homework to do.”

                “See you tomorrow, Tadashi!”

                As Torumaru moved toward them, three of the four took off, leaving Tadashi to stare down Torumaru as he approached. There was a wary tinge in his eyes, but he turned his head slightly and sneered at Kazu. “Look, your prince is here.”

                “Leave him alone, Tadashi,” Torumaru said, stepping between Tadashi and Kazu, who was still hunched with his back to the wall. Standing level with one another, the only distinguishing difference between Torumaru and Tadashi was that Torumaru was more broad-shouldered. “You’ve done enough damage—”

                “What are you gonna do about it?” Tadashi said, taking a swing at Torumaru’s chest. When Torumaru caught Tadashi’s fist in his hand without any effort, Tadashi looked at him, stunned.

                “At this point, anything I do would be self-defense.” Torumaru released Tadashi’s fist and frowned at him before raising a clenched fist of his own, and Tadashi preemptively flinched—

                “No, Toru, don’t hit him!” Kazu latched onto Torumaru’s arm and held him back. “It’s not worth it, just let it go!”

                Torumaru lowered his arm, surprised. He turned to face Kazu, caught so off-guard by Kazu’s face, half pale, half red, that he didn’t notice Tadashi scramble away. “Kazu, you’re bleeding all over your uniform.”

                It was an observation Torumaru surprised himself by making, but as Kazu’s nose was dripping blood, it was something even Torumaru couldn’t overlook. He shook his head and grabbed Kazu gently by the arm. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. The blood’s still wet, so maybe Hiromi can help you get it off your shirt before it stains. I’ve gotta get back to judo, or else I’d do it for you.” He led Kazu back to the corner of the building where Hiromi stood, one hand at her mouth and the other extended in front of her, holding out a napkin.

                After judo ended, Torumaru changed and waited in the locker room, making sure that everyone had headed out before he left. Kazu was waiting by the door, napkin held to his nose, and Torumaru looked him up and down once before shaking his head. “Kazu, what am I gonna do with you? Your uniform is a mess.”

                Kazu looked at him, then looked at his toes, silent. Torumaru felt as though he’d kicked a small dog. “Come on, let’s get going. I’ll wash your shirt when we get home.” He gave Kazu a pat on the shoulder, then tilted his head toward the exit. Kazu smiled lightly and walked toward the door, and Torumaru followed him, feeling some small relief that Kazu had smiled.

                When Torumaru opened the door, yelled, “I’m home! Kazu’s here with me,” and was met with silence, he shrugged and held the door open for Kazu. “They must still be out with the fish, I guess.”

                Kazu stepped inside, took off his shoes, then made a beeline for Torumaru’s room. Torumaru took off his shoes and dropped his school bag next to the two sets of shoes before heading to his room. Kazu had already sat down in Torumaru’s chair, but Torumaru said nothing of it, instead moving to his dresser and looking through the untidy stacks of clothes. “Kazu, if you want me to wash your shirt, you’re gonna have to take it off at some point, or else I’ll have to put you in the wash with it.”

                Once he found a shirt, Torumaru pulled it out and turned around to see Kazu pulling his arm out of the shirt, bare chest facing Torumaru, who blinked. Kazu held out the bloody shirt and Torumaru took it from him, but for a moment Torumaru’s arm remained suspended in the air, the bloody shirt draped over it. The ocean was in his ear again, softer than earlier that day; he could only just hear the waves breaking on the shore in the sunlight, and he felt the sun’s warmth on his arm—

                “Toru, are you okay?”

                Torumaru blinked, then shook his head. “Yeah, I’m fine, just spaced out. Here, put this on, I’ll go get the wash started.” He handed Kazu the shirt he’d pulled from his drawer, then moved hastily out of his room and toward the washroom. As he set the machine going and put detergent into it, Torumaru felt his mind wandering back to that face Hiromi had made, and found himself wondering once again what it was she knew, but as he started to think on it again, he heard a call from the other room. Tossing Kazu’s shirt into the wash, he closed the lid on the machine and returned to his bedroom. “What is it?”

                Kazu was still standing shirtless in the middle of the room, holding Torumaru’s shirt to his chest. Torumaru blinked again, then grinned and shook his head good-naturedly. “You’re gonna catch a cold if you stand around half-naked like that.”

                “I’m fine,” Kazu said quietly, though he pulled the shirt on all the same. “Look, there’s something bothering me.”

                “If this is about the thing with Tadashi, don’t worry about it, really.”

                “No, that’s not it, Torumaru.”

                “Oh yeah? What is it?” Torumaru was caught so off guard by Kazu using his full name that when Kazu spoke next, Torumaru barely heard what he said. His eyes were staring at Kazu, but also over Kazu’s shoulder, out the window, where a single thread-thin cloud was dissipating. His mouth was just ajar, and he felt a stuttered, “oh,” escape it. Refocusing his eyes on Kazu, Torumaru tried to close his mouth, without much success. Instead, his mouth asked the question his mind had barely registered: “so…what brings that up?”

                This time, Torumaru felt Kazu’s breath fly over his shoulder, and in the process, his own breath hitched in his throat, and he began to cough. Rubbing at his mouth, Torumaru took a deep breath in before looking back at Kazu. Something in his head was twitching, an angry, painful twitch, and Torumaru opened his mouth, hoping that would fix it. “So hang on. I don’t understand—”

                “Maru! We brought dinner! Is Kazu here?”

                Torumaru sighed and leaned out his doorway. “Yeah, Kazu’s here, we’ll be out in a second.” He turned back to Kazu, still trying to make sense of the twitching in his head. “So what you’re saying is that you—”

                “Maru!” Torumaru felt his body shift forward slightly as a small girl clamped onto the back of his leg. “Did you have a good day? How was judo? Hi, Kazu!”

                Shaking his head, Torumaru sighed again. The twitching in his head was getting worse, and he rubbed at his eyes to make it stop, to relax the agitation, to make himself feel something other than irritation, and he opened his eyes to see if something had changed, and he found himself staring at a plate of food that he’d apparently eaten halfway through. Looking up quietly, he found the rest of his family eating as usual, and Kazu was on his right, eating as well. The twitch lingered in the back of his head, and he stopped and stared at his food for a moment.

                “What’s up, Maru? You’ve been eating nonstop since you sat down, did you miss lunch again?” It was his older brother who spoke, though it wasn’t until a moment later that Torumaru remembered the sandwich still sitting in his school bag.

                “No, I ate lunch. It’s just judo, ya know, the exercise gets you hungry,” Torumaru said, somehow able to keep a straight face. His brother gave him a look, then shrugged and went back to his food.

                Torumaru heard a small clank to his right, and he turned to Kazu, who had set his utensils down. The rest of his family looked up as well, Torumaru’s younger brother and sister leaning forward to look at Kazu. Kazu looked at Torumaru, slightly surprised, and Torumaru felt another twitch in his head. “You know how things work by now. What do you think?”

                Kazu looked at Torumaru for a moment longer before turning to the rest of the family. “But I’m not part of the family, are you sure—”

                “Whoever finishes dinner first,” Torumaru’s mother said, shaking her head.

                “Doesn’t matter who it is,” Torumaru’s father added.

                “Could be someone we don’t like, even,” Torumaru’s older sister chimed in as well.

                “So go on, Kazu, what do you think?” Torumaru said, ignoring the twitching, which was only getting worse.

                “Well…” Kazu glanced out the window, watching the sunset quietly for a moment. Then he smiled and nodded. “I think tomorrow will be a good day for fishing.”

                Torumaru’s father grinned and nodded to Kazu. “We’ll plan to set out the fishing boat in the morning, then.” Turning his head to look at Torumaru, the grin vanished and was replaced by a frown. “That means you’ll have to be more responsible and do your duties like your older brother does, Maru.”

                “I already said I was sorry,” Torumaru muttered, picking up his plate and carrying it to the sink. Without returning to the table, Torumaru went to his room and sat down on his bed, a hand on his forehead. He was joined a few minutes later by Kazu, who pushed the bedroom door shut behind him. Before Kazu spoke, Torumaru frowned at him. “Hiromi knew. Earlier today she made that face she makes when she knows something I don’t. Why didn’t you tell me before now?” His forehead was pulsing, and somewhere below it, he’d felt his hands clench.

                “I only told her this morning,” Kazu said, quiet. “When you were in the bathroom. I was going to tell you both at the same time, but you ran off. I was going to tell you when you got back, but I forgot.”

                Torumaru’s forehead pulsed. “Pretty big thing to be forgetting, if you ask me.” His forehead pulsed again, and he scratched fervently at the back of his head with one hand. “And that other bit, what’s that about?” His free hand clenched tighter, and he felt his fingernails digging into his skin and scalp. “All this time, what, you’ve wanted everything to happen?”

                “Torumaru, I didn’t get the chance to finish,” Kazu said, quieter than before. “Your family came in before I could explain, it’s not like that—”

                “Kazu, go home.”

                Torumaru heard himself speak and silently cursed himself. He’d wanted to hear what Kazu had to say, but something hadn’t connected between brain and mouth; more than that, he’d heard the tone and volume he’d spoken with, and though he hated to admit it, he knew exactly why Kazu looked scared. He closed his eyes and began scratching fervently at the back of his head again, trying to dig into his scalp, into his head, to prod at whatever wasn’t working properly, to get it to work properly. By the time he opened his eyes next, his room was dark and Kazu had left. Realizing this, Torumaru flung his head at his pillow and continued to scratch at the back of it for some time.

                The next morning, Torumaru woke up with his alarm and helped his family prepare for the day of fishing, after which he ate breakfast and got dressed and ready. The twitching in his head had progressed to pulsing, but he ignored it, looked over his textbooks, and made sure he had everything he needed for school. There was no knock at 7:30, and so Torumaru left on his own, lost in the thump of his head on his walk to school.

                “Kamimura, answer the second question.”

                “The range is negative fourteen to two,” Torumaru said, looking up from his textbook.

                The odd silence that followed his prompt answer was clipped short when the teacher replied with, “that’s correct. Endou, answer the third question.”

                Torumaru could feel the weight under his eyes. He’d fallen asleep at a reasonable hour, but he hadn’t really slept, alternating between moments where the aggravation of his headache nearly woke him up and moments where, in his sleep, he was trying to break into his own head by scratching, as if it were an eggshell asking to be cracked. Though he was tired, he would not let himself fall asleep, and he stared determinedly at the board, taking notes and answering questions until the bell for break rang. Not a few seconds after, Hiromi stood directly in front of his desk. “You look as bad as Kazu. What happened yesterday?”

                Torumaru said nothing. When she continued to watch him intently, he shook his head. “If you’ve seen him, you should just ask him.”

                “He won’t tell me. What’s going on, Torumaru?”

                Torumaru again said nothing; he stood up, walked around her, and continued out of the classroom without making contact with anyone at all. He wandered aimlessly for a bit, then decided to go to the bathroom, in case Hiromi followed him. Once he’d stepped into the bathroom, he regretted that choice.

                Tadashi and his friends stood lined against the wall, in front of four of the six standing toilets. Torumaru contemplated stepping back out, but just as the thought occurred to him that he could slip away, the door clicked shut behind him, and Tadashi looked up and toward him. Torumaru felt his head pulse once, then twice and a third time, and he felt his eyes narrow as Tadashi’s mouth opened.

                “Where’s your princess, huh?”

                Torumaru walked to one of the standing toilets and went to pee, if nothing else to save face. “Princess?” He rested a hand on the wall before forcing himself to turn his head toward Tadashi. “What are you on about?” His head was still pounding, and he could only feel the pounding speed up as Tadashi’s mouth opened again.

                “I’d say don’t play dumb, but I guess that’s just how you are. I’m talking about your princess Kazu, of course. Did you two break up? Or are you still gonna come to his rescue if we pick on him?”

                Torumaru finished and zipped up his pants, feeling one pulse after another after another hit his head, and he wanted to scratch at the back of his head, to dig into his skull and pull the pounding out with his own fingers if he had to, but the more he thought about doing so, the more he realized that his hands were curled, and because of that he couldn’t scratch at anything at all, and once he realized that, the pounding increased in frequency and strength, until he couldn’t see anything but a face, a face lodged into his sight and mind, and he reached for it, trying with all if his might to grab that face, that person, even though he couldn’t unclench his fists long enough to do so, and as he grabbed, the pounding in his head reached a peak and then began to settle, and the more he reached, the smaller the pounding became until he couldn’t feel it at all, and so he kept reaching—and he felt his body narrow as some force pushed him away, his arms extended directly in front of him as he kept trying to grab at that face, that person, and then at nothing, and then he felt his body become broad again, and he tried to grab at anything he could hold onto for longer than a moment, and then he was staring straight up at a familiar ceiling, one hand outstretched, reaching for the ceiling. Torumaru closed his eyes, then opened them again, taking everything in.

                This was his room, his ceiling the one his hand was reaching for. Torumaru sat up and looked out the window, noticing the orange haze of late afternoon. Surprised by this, he looked around, trying to find a reason for the afternoon, and then he settled on his own hands, several knuckles calloused and caked with dry blood, and a few of his fingers bandaged. He closed his eyes and remembered, and a moment later he stood up and, almost staggering with each step, left his room. When he found himself at the dinner table, and found himself sitting in front of a plate of food, and found himself faced with his family, all of whom were watching him warily, the realization of what had happened hit him.

                “Maru’s eyes look normal again.”

                He opened his mouth once, then closed it again, then stared at the rice bowl in front of him as though it had the answers to the questions he hadn’t asked.

                “They’ve suspended you from school. They’re talking about expelling you.”

                Torumaru said nothing.

                “They were sent to the hospital, all four of them.”

                The rice bowl wasn’t answering his questions.

                “You’ve been suspended from judo indefinitely, until they decide what they want to do.”

                “It took three people to get you to stop attacking that Tadashi kid.”

                “You were scary, Maru.”

                “I’ve never seen you so angry.”

                Somewhere behind him, Torumaru heard the doorbell, and reflexively he stood up, walking away from the table and to the door, not hearing the conversation going on at the table. When he opened the door and found Kazu’s timid face staring back at him, he remained silent.

                “I brought your shirt back,” Kazu said, quick and quiet. He pushed his hands into Torumaru’s chest, the shirt from the day before folded gently between Torumaru’s chest and Kazu’s hands. “Thank you for letting me borrow it.”

                Torumaru said nothing, but felt something catch in his throat. He couldn’t tell if it was air or spit.

                “Look, Toru, I don’t know what—”

                “I’m sorry.”

                Torumaru looked down at Kazu, and then placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I got mad. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” He looked away and shook his head. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad today either. Something he said—”

                “It was you, you know.”

                Torumaru looked down at the shirt, then back up at Kazu’s face. “Huh?”

                “I wanted to explain, but I was afraid, and then you yelled at me, so I didn’t want to push it. But it was you, really.”

                “Come in for dinner,” Torumaru said abruptly.

                Kazu gawked at him for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I need to get home—”

                “Your parents aren’t home until the weekend. Come in for dinner.” Grabbing one of Kazu’s arms, he pulled Kazu into the house and closed the door behind him, not letting go of Kazu until he was in the dining room. “Kazu’s having dinner with us.”

                “What? Maru, we were talking about—”

                Torumaru sat down and pointed at the open seat to his right. For a moment, there was silence. Then, a small laugh slipped past Kazu’s lips, and he sat down at the table in his usual spot. Another pause followed this, during which Torumaru’s stomach growled.

                “Maru, I don’t think you get how severe this is—”

                “I do, really,” he replied, staring back down at his rice bowl. “I just lost control, I guess. I don’t want to be expelled—”

                “You’re not going to be expelled,” Kazu said. Torumaru tilted his head toward Kazu. The rest of his family followed suit. Kazu looked at them all, then continued. “I went and talked to them about the bullying thing. They said that changes things. You’ll probably still be suspended for a while, but not expelled, anyway.”

                Torumaru’s stomach growled again. “They probably won’t want me as the judo club captain, after this, though.”

                Kazu laughed, and Torumaru gave him a look. “The judo team already said they wouldn’t meet if you weren’t allowed to come back. Even the new recruits agreed to it.”

                For a moment, Torumaru stared at Kazu, stunned. Then his stomach growled again, and he looked away from Kazu, turned back to his food, and began to wolf it down. Torumaru’s older brother opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again, put off by Torumaru’s eating. Everyone took notice of this but Torumaru, who had finished off his plate and rice in a matter of minutes. It was only after he leaned back in his chair and let out a contented sigh that he realized everyone was staring at him. He looked around at them, an eyebrow raised, but he said nothing.

                Kazu coughed gently, then said, “well, Toru? What do you think?”

                Torumaru stared at him again, then scratched at the back of his head. “What do I think about what?”

                “You finished eating first, Maru,” his older brother said, pointing at Torumaru’s empty plate.

                Torumaru contemplated his plate for a moment before blinking in surprise. “Oh, I guess I did. Well…” he trailed off, staring out the window quietly. Somewhere outside the window, the ocean was pushing toward the land as sun set, and the tide came crashing in, one large wave followed by another, and another larger wave after that. Seafoam flew above the ocean, a flash of white tinted orange as it dissolved into the sky.

                “I think tomorrow will be a good day for fishing.”