Furukawa
Advanced Nurturing High School; My Room
I arrived at the door of my room, unlocking it and going inside. I placed my bag at the foot of my bed, then I went over to my wardrobe, grabbing some new clothes and a towel. I stepped into the bathroom closing the door behind me, then I took off my school uniform and stepped into the shower. Turning it on, cold water came down on me from the showerhead, cleaning my body and refreshening me.
As I took my shower, I started to think about the progress of Class D. At first, I saw them all as nothing more than defects-clueless and mindless human beings who knew nothing of the people nor the things around them. They were weak-willed, and they hardly had any discipline. There was no mistake that they were all in Class D. However, my view of them slowly began to change when a certain girl stepped up.
Horikita Misaki. Thanks to her leadership, the entire class was able to come together as one and improve themselves. And thanks to her actions, the class was able to gain some Class Points, even though it wasn't much. It was a start. Should Horikita Misaki continue to grow and improve herself, she along with our class will continue to get better and eventually, we'll be able to take on the other classes and future exams with ease.
After a while, I turned the shower off and stepped outside, drying myself with my towel. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and with my hand, I wiped off the fog. I took a breath and I looked at my reflection in the mirror, staring at my dark-gray eyes and black hair. As always, my face was expressionless. And it's always been like that ever since that day.
You see, I'm not like everyone else. My entire body was covered in multiple scars, all which were from cuts and stabs made by a sharp weapon. All which happened years ago...
In front of me, there was a boy. In his hand, he had a piece of metal shaped into a sharp blade, and he came closer and closer to me as he held it tight. As for me, I too had a makeshift blade of my own, but unlike him, I didn't have a desire to use it. I couldn't. Instead, using my fists, I moved and threw a palm strike to knock him down, but he swiftly dodged it. And then...
*slice*
"Ggh...!" Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my right arm and I grabbed it. While holding it, I felt something wet, something flooding out through my fingers. When I let go and looked at my hand, it was covered in dark-red blood, dripping down all the way to the ground. I had been cut. But it wouldn't just be one.
*slice*
*slice*
*slice*
I was struck multiple times. Cut after cut after cut. Blood poured down my entire body from my arms all the way down to my feet. I was injured, and I was panting-breathing second after second. Yet...I felt nothing. The pain that I felt not too long ago disappeared, and what I felt instead...was nothing but cold.
The boy came in front of me, staring at me with his blank eyes. He raised his blade up into the air, preparing to strike me down for good. So in my final moments, I decided to throw one last attack. With the remaining strength I had, I moved my arm quickly, throwing a swift punch to his face. It was futile. He moved his head and dodged my attack, then swept my legs, knocking me down. He came on top of me, pinning my arms and legs, restricting my movement to resist. Then, with his blade...he struck me in the heart.
My vision slowly began to go blurry. His face, the room, and everything. All of it was slowly disappearing as I laid on the ground in a pool of my own blood. The cold feeling I had began to become even colder and colder. And everything else I felt...was gone. I was dead. Or so I thought...
*beep*
*beep*
*beep*
Thanks to a heart transplant, and thanks to those with medical expertise, I was saved. I, who was at the brink of death, was brought back to life. It was a miracle. At least...that's what they say...
I touched the scar on my chest and felt its rough texture. Out of all the scars I had on me, this one was by far the largest and the worst I felt. The memories of that fight on that day will forever be with me. And I don't plan on anyone finding out about this.
Grabbing some bandages, I started wrapping my arms, covering my scars. Then, I put on my new clothes, covering the rest of my body.
I left the bathroom and put my dirty clothes in a basket. I went over to the kitchen and started to prepare some tea, as well as some dinner. While the kettle was on the stove with water and mugicha, I checked my fridge and saw what I had. There was some chicken, tomatoes, and some cheese.
"I suppose I'll make something Italian..." I muttered.
I grabbed all the ingredients I needed, as well as some pots and pans. Using a sharp knife, I diced up the tomatoes and onions, putting them into a heated pot with oil and some herbs. Next, I started flattening the chicken until they were thinner and coated them with flour, then I drenched them in egg wash and coated them with breadcrumbs. With hot oil in the pan, I started frying the coated chicken. As everything was being cooked, all I had to do now was wait.
After a while, it was all done. I turned off the stove, plating the chicken and tomato sauce, and pouring the mugicha tea into a cup. As I placed everything on my table, there was a sudden loud knock at my door.
Who could that be...? I went over to the door, unlocking it and opening it to see the person standing in front of me. "Tsukamoto."
"O-Oh, yo Furukawa! You got a minute?" Tsukamoto had a concerned look on his face, and the sound of his voice seemed nervous.
"Depends. What are you-"
"Look man, I really need to talk to you. You mind letting me in?" I was going to question him a little further, but he looked like he really needed someone to talk to. I nodded, then I let him inside and closed the door.
"So? What is it?"
"Well-" Tsukamoto suddenly paused and started sniffing the air. "Hey, what's that smell? Did you cook something?" he asked.
"Yeah. I was making dinner before you came here."
"Man...that smells amazing..." Tsukamoto shook his head and returned to his senses. "Anyways, I need to ask you for a favor, Furukawa."
"A favor?" I repeated.
Tsukamoto nodded, then he immediately kneeled and bowed his head down to the ground in front of me. "Please! I need your help! I might get suspended because of a fight I got into!"
I tilted my head and stared at him. "A fight?" I repeated. "What are you talking about? And how did you manage to get into a fight?"
"O-Oh, um...right. I should probably explain..." Tsukamoto stood back up. "It was yesterday. After Track had ended, I was just about to head back to my dorm room, but then I suddenly got a call from Sugiyama-a Class C student who was a part of my Track Club. Apparently, he and that Hoga guy wanted to talk to me in the special building about something. That freaking jerk was also in my Track club, so when I heard that they wanted to talk, I didn't think much of it and decided to go. I mean, I was a little confused and it seemed strange, but what else would they have wanted?" Tsukamoto continued. "But...when I got there, I saw that they weren't the only ones. There was also Nishida-that guy we saw at the library. The three of them started threatening me to leave Track, and when I refused..."
"That's when the fight started," I said, completing his story.
He nodded. "That's right."
"I see..." I sat down on the bed and crossed my arms. "This threat that they made about you leaving Track. Do you know what it was for?" I asked.
"Ah, that. They were trying to get me to quit Track because I became a regular. And probably because I was chosen to compete."
"A regular?" I repeated.
He nodded. "You see, I've been running for a long time, practicing and doing everything for the club. Then one day, the club advisor came up and talked to me, asking if I wanted to be a regular and if I wanted to enter the upcoming competition for the Track Club. Of course, when I heard that, I immediately accepted it. I mean, it was amazing! I think I was the only first-year to be offered a chance to be a regular and to compete!"
"I see. I suppose that's great, Tsukamoto."
"It is. But...after that fight, I don't think I can do that anymore. I'll get suspended, and the club may see me as someone not worthy. I don't want that...!" he said, clenching his fists.
His desire for his Track Club is strong, and I can see the determination in his eyes. I realize that the reason why he sought my help was so he could continue living his dream and so he could have a future here at this school.
"I see. I think I understand everything now," I stood up from my bed and faced him. "You're a fool, Tsukamoto."
"...Huh?"
"You knew that it was strange at the beginning, yet you left and met up with them anyways. Then, you got involved in a fight with those students who were from another class. And you had no backup plans to save you if things went wrong. You were careless."
"That's...!" Tsukamoto's face was angry at first, but then he looked down and frowned, ashamed of himself. "...I guess you're right. It was my fault that I got into this mess. But I fought them out of self-defense! That's it!"
"You say it like everyone will believe it."
"Huh?! You're saying you don't believe me?!" he shouted.
I shook my head. "No. What I'm saying is that I may be the only one out of the hundreds of people here-students and teachers-who believes your words."
"Furukawa..." I grabbed my cup of tea on the table and sipped it. "Is there anything you can do...?" he asked.
I shook my head. "They were the ones who gave a complaint, and all we have is your side of the story. We're at a disadvantage against them. Unless there was evidence or a witness who was there where the fight took place, we can't do anything."
Tsukamoto grits his teeth and clenches his fists. "Dammit...!" He grabs his head tightly. "I'm screwed then..." he said quietly. "My life at Track...everything...it's all gonna be gone...!"
Tsukamoto's actions were only going to get him suspended. Yet, he was thinking as if he was going to die or even worse. I suppose it makes sense if he considered Track to be his life.
Seeing him sitting there helplessly and almost weeping on the floor, I sighed. "I may not be able to do anything, but Horikita might be able to figure something out."
"H-Horikita? Are you sure? I mean, isn't she always busy and stuff? And doesn't she hate getting into situations like this?"
"She's our Class Representative, isn't she?" I said. "If you truly need help, it's best to go to her."
"Y-Yeah, I suppose you're right," he said. "Um...Furukawa, do you mind calling her here so we could talk?"
I stared at him for a moment, then sighed again. "Fine."