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  “So I heard you’re going to the same school I used to go to.”

  “My school?”

  Ishizaka jerked a thumb at the staff, who were busy carrying cameras, microphones, and other filming equipment on their shoulders.

  “I just heard. You’re from Shonan Senior High? I used to be in the Athletics department there. I was on the track team.”

  “What?” Something familiar sparked in Kento’s head. But the man in front of him looked much older than Orihara. He recalled the list of new members he had looked at in the club room. He had been too occupied with Orihara’s name at the time, but?he said alphabetical order, right? If he remembered correctly, didn’t the name that came after Orihara start with “Ishi”?

  Even if they didn’t join the team at the same time, if they were fellow members, it was possible that they knew each other’s names, at least. Kento grabbed Ishizaka’s arm.

  “Do you know a Yuri Orihara?” he asked hoarsely. Ishizaka’s thick eyebrows shot up.

  When Kento told the TV crew that he would be having dinner with Ishizaka, they sent him off willingly. Perhaps they had figured that they could enjoy their celebratory drinking party more freely without a minor like Kento around. Ishizaka took him to a restaurant that served Sawachi style cuisine, a Kochi specialty.

  The restaurant was located inside a multi-storey building, but the interior was decorated to look like a rural house with a thatched roof. Beams carved out of whole trees spanned across the ceiling.

  “Apparently they dismantled a hundred-year-old house and rebuilt it here.”

  “Wow, it looks like a filming set.”

  Ishizaka burst into laughter. “You sound just like someone in the entertainment business.”

  Among the restaurant guests were businessmen as well as younger people who looked like tourists. Ishizaka made for a seat close to a group of young college-age women. Kento hastily tugged at Ishizaka’s jacket.

  “Oh, right. I almost forgot you were a celebrity.” Ishizaka asked a server in a happi coat for a private booth. The booth had a wood-panel floor and a sunken hearth, with rattan floor cushions placed around it. Once they sat down, trays were brought in front of them with appetizers. Ishizaka gave his order to the server.

  “I know you’re a minor, but you can still drink beer, right?”

  “No, I can’t.” Those were the rules at his management office. Ishizaka shrugged at Kento’s staunch refusal.

  “Well, I guess no means no. You’re a pop icon, after all.” He ordered one Japanese sake instead.

  A big platter arrived with servings of seared bonito and sashimi.

  “Eat,” Ishizaka encouraged. “You’re a growing young man.” He then drank his sake as he began his story.

  “Both Orihara and I weren’t sprinters. We were long-distance runners.” Ishizaka was born in Kochi, but had been granted a scholarship for his performance in junior high school and had moved into a dorm for senior high. He was a ten-kilometre race runner, and his most immediate goal was the inter-high-school championships. He eventually wanted to enter the senior high-school Ekiden relay race, and finally, as a matter of course, the Hakone Ekiden relay race once he entered university.

  During autumn of their second year, Orihara and a few other runners accidentally tripped over one another and ended up falling. That was when Orihara hurt a ligament in his knee.

  “The injury itself wasn’t serious, but he was worried that he wouldn’t make the cut for the high-school Ekiden race. So he trained in secret without telling the coach.”

  Ishizaka had been worried about Orihara running on the roads alone at night, so he decided to practice with him.

  “That’s when I got into the accident.” A truck had edged into the oncoming traffic lane as it attempted to veer clear of an illegally-parked trailer in the lane. To avoid an oncoming car, it had ploughed right up onto the sidewalk, hitting Ishizaka,

  “It was a pretty bad accident. I ended up quitting high school and coming back here to focus on my treatment.”

  Kento waited for Ishizaka’s next words with bated breath.

  “I had a few operations, but ultimately the doctor’s verdict was that I should amputate my leg and switch to a prosthetic limb if I wanted it to function at its best.”

  Ishizaka sighed and drained the rest of the sake in his cup.

  “I was devastated, to be honest. I’d had so much encouragement from everyone in rehabilitation, after all. But I decided to place my best on that prosthetic leg.”

  He had also strengthened his resolve not to give up running even after he had lost a leg.

  “I thought, if there aren’t any good prosthetic legs out there, I’ll just make one.” So he had taken a university entrance qualification exam and entered the computer engineering department at his local university.

  “He came to visit me in the spring, when he’d just graduated high school. Around the same time of the year as now.”

  He had gotten a few letters from Orihara, but had refrained from contacting him back until after he had firmly established his academic path. He also hadn’t mentioned his amputated leg, since he didn’t want to worry Orihara more than necessary.

  “And eventually, we drifted out of touch.”

  That day, Orihara had visited him out of the blue. He had been shocked to see Ishizaka with a prosthetic leg.

  “But I ended up yelling at him,” Ishizaka sighed. “All because when I asked him if he was still running, he said he’d quit long ago.” Ishizaka covered his face with his hands, as if the painful scene were replaying in his mind.

  “I said to him, ‘Whose fault do you think it is that I can’t run anymore? You were supposed to run in my place after the accident’.”

  But of course, that hadn’t been out of hatred.

  “I thought he’d quit running because he felt guilty about what happened to me.” He had thought his words would give the push that Orihara needed to start running again. “I wanted him to run the Hakone Ekiden race.”

  That way, he could cheer Orihara on from afar.

  “How was I supposed to know that he’d quit so he could study to get into medical school? He’d never even told me.”

  Ishizaka cradled his head in his hands. Although Kento felt like he was making things somewhat worse, he told Ishizaka what Orihara was going through at home?including his complicated relationship with his older brother. Ishizaka lifted his face and widened his eyes in surprise.

  “I had no idea. So that’s what was happening to him, huh?” He looked up in exasperation at the ceiling and its sooty beams. Now that he thought of it, perhaps Orihara had come to tell Ishizaka that he would become a doctor so he could make his leg better. But after Ishizaka had yelled at him, Orihara had simply left looking dejected, not saying another word. There had been no contact from him since then.

  “To think he’d applied for medical school just so he could make me better. I had no idea that was what was going through his mind.”

  Ishizaka had not even known that Orihara had become a doctor until Kento told him.

  “I sent out letters a few times, you know.” But he had only gotten a simple postcard once from Orihara that said he was doing well.

  “He can be pretty stubborn and prone to jumping to conclusions.”

  Kento almost burst out laughing because Miyashita had said the exact same thing. But he could not laugh when he thought of how Orihara must have felt at the time.

  He had chosen the path of medicine to make his best friend better, but in turn had undermined his older brother’s position. And when he had finally gotten into medical school, his friend had already lost his leg.

  Ishizaka knocked back his replenished glass of sake, then looked intently at Kento.

  “So, what do you want me to do?”

  Kento looked him straight in the eyes.

  “I want you to see Yuri.”

  Chapter 11

  One Saturday in April, long after the cherry blossoms had fad
ed, Kento was waiting for Ishizaka on the platform of Tokyo Station. When he saw Ishizaka come running up the stairs, he took off his baseball cap and waved it wildly.

  “Hurry up, Mr. Ishizaka! Over here!”

  Kento pounced onto the nearest train door and used his body to hold the door open until Ishizaka came tumbling in.

  “Man, I think I put more effort into that run than I do for races.” Ishizaka took off his wrinkled suit jacket and dabbed at his sweaty forehead with his handkerchief.

  “I thought thirty minutes would be enough to get me here, but it was really crowded at Big Sight. They were doing some kind of comic show or whatever. I couldn’t flag a taxi for the life of me, and the buses were at a standstill. It was hell.”

  They checked their seat numbers, sat down, and finally let the tension leave them.

  “I’m sorry for making you come out like this,” Kento apologized.

  “Don’t mind it. I had errands to run in Tokyo, anyway.”

  Ishizaka had come to Tokyo from Kochi for a medical equipment trade show held at the Big Sight venue in the Tokyo Bay area. The two had planned to meet on Saturday afternoon to visit the hospital in Shimizu where Orihara had been dispatched.

  Kento put his baseball cap back on, pulled it low over his eyes, and also fished out a pair of sunglasses to put on. Ishizaka gave him a questioning look.

  “Aren’t you hot? Why don’t you take that hat off?”

  “No, it’s…”

  “Oh, right, you’re a celebrity. I totally forgot,” Ishizaka began loudly, then quickly lowered his voice. “Sorry about that. I have a big voice.” As he spoke he pulled a Discman out of his bag. Kento watched as he took a Beatles CD out of it.

  “I’m a Beatles fan,” Ishizaka said, winking.

  “Wait a minute…”

  Kento decided to throw the question out there.

  “Mr. Ishizaka, did you ever play guitar with Yuri?”

  “Yeah,” Ishizaka nodded. Kento knew his guess was right. These two had shared a connection deeper than that between teammates on the same track team. He remembered Orihara’s somewhat forlorn eyes when he taught Kento the guitar. Although he had felt a little jealous at the time, he had assumed Orihara was just reminiscing about an old friend he used to play music with.

  He said he quit guitar and running at the same time.

  Kento reckoned that Orihara must have harboured feelings for Ishizaka that were more than friendship. He gazed at Ishizaka’s profile and his pronounced features, a little intimidating but memorable nonetheless.

  “I learned how to play the guitar from Yuri. Especially Beatles songs.”

  “That’s great,” Ishizaka said, oblivious to Kento’s mixed feelings. “It’s nice to see the Beatles’ greatness passed onto young’uns like you.”

  Kento took out a CD from his own backpack to show the man.

  “Oh, is this your group’s CD?” Ishizaka asked.

  “Yup. It’s our first album. Will you give it a listen?”

  Ishizaka took the CD from Kento and put it into his Discman.

  “I wrote the lyrics for ‘Sand Glass’, you know.”

  Shortly after, Ishizaka took off his earphones, took out the CD and gave it back to Kento.

  “It doesn’t really speak to me. I think I prefer the Beatles.”

  “No need to be so mean,” Kento said in exaggerated disappointment. “It’s not fair to compare us to the Beatles. We’re doing our best, too, you know.”

  “That you are,” Ishizaka gave a booming laugh and lowered his head in apology. “So, what time are we supposed to get there? What time have you promised to meet with Orihara? I’d like to get back within the day, if we can.” Ishizaka looked at his watch. Kento didn’t know what to say.

  “Um… I actually haven’t told him that we’re coming.”

  “What? Are you serious? What if we don’t get to see him?”

  Kento had never thought of that. What if they went to visit Orihara out of the blue, and he turned out to be on a day off from his hospital duties? Kento had been too excited about seeing him to think of backup plans.

  “Why haven’t you told him we’re coming?” Ishizaka’s eyes bulged as they looked at him. Kento decided to explain the details.

  “I thought he wouldn’t want to see us if I mentioned my name.” He left out the part where they had had sex in the spur of the moment (though Kento didn’t think so), but Kento told him everything else ? about how he loved Orihara, and how Orihara had dismissed it as a childish infatuation.

  Ishizaka folded his arms as he listened in, and once Kento finished speaking, he lapsed into thought. After a while, he sighed and glanced sideways at Kento.

  “Which means you must be gay.”

  Kento shook his head. “I’m not sure. All I know is one thing, and it’s that I love Yuri.”

  Ishizaka hummed in thought. “To me, it seems like Orihara’s got the right mindset. But, well, any adult in his right mind would reject your confession, anyway.”

  When Kento glared at him, Ishizaka waved his hand hastily. “No, that’s not what I meant. A year ago, you were still a kid, right? You can’t blame him for not taking you seriously. But what’s also true is that no one can negate what you’re feeling in your heart. This is a problem that you two have to discuss with each other.”

  Ishizaka carried on, thinking as he spoke.

  “I don’t know about giving my name, either. He feels guilt towards me. He might pretend he’s not there, just like he did to his brother.”

  “You’re right, come to think of it.” Kento had thought of using Ishizaka’s name when asking to meet with Orihara, but he realized it wasn’t such a good idea after all. “What should we do, then?”

  “Let’s see. We should say we’re just classmates from high school and gloss over the names. He might come out to meet us, wondering who we might be.”

  The feeling of uncertainty still swelled inside Kento as he wondered if Orihara would still agree to listen to their story after meeting face-to-face.

  “What if he sees us and gets angry and leaves?” Kento said with a gloomy face. Ishizaka laughed brightly and clapped his shoulder.

  “Leave it to me. I have more life experience than you. Though I don’t have much to say when it comes to male relationships, if it’s between a man and a woman, I’ve got more experience under my belt. I’ve played the matchmaker more than a couple of times, you know. I think I can lend a guy a helping hand.”

  Orihara had been dispatched to a rather large hospital in Shimizu City, with its own emergency center. Kento and Ishizaka put in an appointment at the front desk, claiming the visitor was “Suzuki from Shonan Private School”, just like they’d rehearsed. Of course, Suzuki was a fictional persona.

  “Kind of like how a spy would sign his name as John Smith,” Ishizaka whispered to him.

  However, Orihara appeared not to have any suspicions, and immediately answered the internal telephone line after being put through by the receptionist. The sharp-looking woman with short hair spoke a few words into the phone before smiling at the two.

  “He’s in a meeting right now. Will you have a seat and wait in the lobby?”

  The two decided to wait on the lobby sofa as they had been told to do. Ishizaka watched the receptionist from afar and nudged Kento with his elbow.

  “Don’t you feel your heart race when you see a beautiful woman like her?”

  “Not at all,” Kento replied promptly. It was the truth. Ishizaka shook his head in exasperation.

  “Well, if you really love him, I’m not going to complain, but…”

  “Yuri is the only one for me,” Kento said firmly. Ishizaka gave him a sidelong look.

  “He did have a pretty face, now that I think about it. Our upperclassmen used to try to make moves on him. I thought they were being stupid,” he reminisced. Kento looked at him sharply as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

  Once consultation hours ended, quite past five, the elev
ator doors opened to let out a crowd of doctors in white coats. One broke away from the group and came to the lobby. It was Orihara.

  Orihara saw the two of them and stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Hey,” Ishizaka said, getting up from the sofa. For a moment, Orihara almost turned on his heel, but sighed before striding towards them.

  “Kento. What in the world is going on?” Orihara looked at him critically. “Ishizaka, what are you doing here with him?”

  Ishizaka slid an arm around Kento’s shoulder and drew him close. Orihara’s face tensed for a split second.

  “We’re friends now. Kento came to interview me.”

  “Interview you?”

  “Yeah. It was part of a series on athletes with prosthetic limbs.”

  Orihara’s shoulders tensed at the words “prosthetic limbs.” Ishizaka paid no mind to him as he rolled up the right leg of his pants.

  “Look at this baby. I made it. I’m aiming to enter the next Paralympic Games.” He then rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and displayed his muscular arms. “Go on. Touch it.”

  Orihara hesitantly touched his arm. His eyes widened in surprise.

  “See that? Pretty impressive muscle, huh?” Ishizaka laughed jovially and looked at Orihara from head to toe. “You, on the other hand, were right to stop running. You haven’t grown a bit since high school. Look at how scrawny you are.”

  “How rude,” Orihara said with a wry smile.

  “I’m only stating the obvious. I train every day. I’m even more serious about it than I was in high school. If I hadn’t lost my leg, I wouldn’t have come this far.”

  Suddenly, his tone softened.

  “That’s what I’m trying to say. I came to show you me. To show you what I’ve become.” Ishizaka told Orihara the very words which Kento had asked him to say.

  “Orihara, I’m no Mother Theresa. I won’t say that I’ve never hated you for this. But right now, I have no grudges.” He grinned and stuck his thumb up. “If I’d led a normal life as an athlete, I might never make the Olympics. I’m proud of my leg.”