I still don’t follow.
Because I don’t know how to say it right. But you know what I mean.
I do.
That’s right.
I had watched Yoji doing all that stupid stuff and told myself over and over what an idiot he was, yet somehow, still, I fell in love with him.
There was no particular reason—just opportunity.
That slender, pale, outstretched hand.
Such a beautiful hand.
And the “Love will save the world” part.
But I’m pretty sure that when somebody falls in love, it’s not about this quality or that habit or this feeling or doing something that way—you fall in love with something that’s deep inside the other person, like a core or a nucleus, right at the heart, no strings attached. I know, you see, because Yoji’s core stuck inside me, and it won’t come off.
3
I thought about skipping school, but I didn’t want to be behind the curve when Sano started spreading his lies. I wanted to be ready to respond, to make my case early and often. Still, when I got to school it seemed as though he had got the jump on me with his texting. It was already too late. It would be brutal now.
As soon as I walked into the classroom, Kan and Shima stopped me. They had something they wanted to talk about, told me to come with them—and not out onto the balcony or on the stairs or in the hall in front of the art room, but in the bathroom. Which I knew was scary, but before I could even answer, Narucchi and Miyon and Nakajima and even Maki had followed us in and gathered around the mirror. Narucchi and Maki weren’t even at the party last night. If Kan and Shima were bringing in girls who had nothing to do with anything, this wasn’t some little thing; this was a big deal. And then there was Maki. Major scary. If she was here, I was in for the full treatment.
But why was she here?
They were planning to do it right. No, I didn’t really know whether they were all after me. But if they were, I was pretty sure there wasn’t much I could do about it.
Shit!
But you’ve got to keep calm, Aiko. Keep cool.
Why were you suddenly the target? And what were you going to do about it? How could you fight back against so many girls? Or maybe you should admit you did whatever it was they thought you did and just apologize—though how do you apologize if you don’t know what you did?
You were about to be drawn and quartered, and you weren’t even sure what the charges were. As they’d been leading me into the bathroom, I’d wracked my brain, but I still had no idea. What was this all about?
Was it because I did it with Akihiko Sano? But lots of other girls did too. Kan and Miyon at least. Last year or the year before. The only reason I wanted to try him was because they’d said he was so fantastically awesome. “Sano’s a sex machine!” I’m quoting them here. So why were they after me now for actually doing it with him? It made no sense. Because I didn’t get in touch after I disappeared with Sano from the party last night? But when I left with him they must have known what we were going to do. No one said anything at the time, and it wasn’t the first time I’d left a party with some guy, so it shouldn’t have made any difference.
So maybe I did something at the party? I don’t remember much.
Or maybe before the party? Not likely.
So what then?
Why was I here in the bathroom? Why was I suddenly the target of the bully court?
I still didn’t know, but I didn’t have any more time to think about it. Miyon, who was standing next to Maki, spoke up first. “You probably know why we’ve called you here,” she said. No, no idea. Why? When I didn’t answer, Shima broke in. “Speak up,” she ordered. “Say something, Aiko. We don’t like your attitude.” If I said I didn’t know, they might take it wrong or someone might think I was being a smart-ass—worse still if that someone was Maki. But I had taken too long thinking this over. Out of nowhere came a slap to the side of my face. “Speak up, Aiko!” Maki shouted. I was shocked more than hurt. What did she think she was doing? So I shot back, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” and kicked out with my right leg, catching her in the thigh. And it worked, a bit anyway: Maki crumpled. I was in pretty good shape from kendo and tennis, and the kick must’ve hurt. She rubbed her thigh and muttered, “You think that hurt, bitch?” “You think I give a fuck?” I retorted, and as I did, I jumped on her, pushing her head down with the weight of my body and at the same time bringing my leg up. Gaaannn! I could feel her face smashing against my knee. It was a move my brother taught me. He had also taught me what to do when I was way outnumbered like this: he said you should try to take out the strongest one right away. Which is why I had gone after Maki. I grabbed her hair and smashed my knee into her pretty face over and over. “Wait wai…shit,” she gurgled. “Stop! Ouch! OUCH! SHIT! OUCH!” I saw something red on the bathroom tiles and knew Maki was bleeding from the nose, but I kept on cracking her face against my knee.
She was totally scary as far as I was concerned. We had a term for this kind
