Chapter 36: When the Angel trusts her servant

Author's Preface

It was so strange to think that when you were feeling vulnerable, when you needed someone to talk to, and someone offered to listen, you couldn’t help but wish that they were being honest about it. You would hope that they wouldn’t judge you. And you clung to this idea that it was fine. That it should be fine. And that maybe, the hand they were reaching out to you was genuine. But the probability of it being genuine would be higher if the people who offered you help were people you knew, people who were always there with you, people you were familiar with. Your friends, your family, or even relatives.

But what if it was from someone you barely knew? Would you even dare take that hand they offered?

That was why… It was so strange that even though I didn’t know if I could trust Takeda, I still made an attempt. A stupid attempt to tell him everything about me. But thank goodness… because no matter how desperate I was, I stopped myself. After all, I wouldn’t just reach out my hand to anyone who offered to help me stand. Not to my friends, my family, or even relatives. And especially not to someone whom I barely knew. Because, in the end… someone might genuinely want to pull you in for safety, pretend that they were sincere, but then push you back down and use your vulnerability against you.

So I was cautious…

Very cautious…

I closed my mouth before I could even say anything to Takeda. He was supposed to only serve me as an accomplice, not a confidant. Someone who coincidentally sat beside me in class. He was only a classmate, never a friend or someone close. And I had only started talking with him recently. So why would I put myself in a situation that would bring me danger? Why would I recklessly give someone something they could use against me? Wouldn’t that be foolish?

Sensing my hesitation, Takeda leaned forward to search for my reaction. I could sense his impatience since I hadn't said a word for quite a while. “You bit your tongue or something?” he asked.

I frowned and pulled my knees closer, embracing them as I hid away from Takeda’s stare. I placed my forehead against my knees and shielded my face with my arms. I couldn’t bear the look in his eyes for some reason, even though they looked more curious than judgmental. Yet I didn’t like the fact that he had simply brought me more things to think about when I was already feeling unsure of what to do. Instead, I just let every emotion stir and marinate while letting my thoughts be corrupted by the concoction of strong sentiments that I had caused and regretted in that gym. It became the reason clouds formed in my heart, while rain kept welling up in my eyes.

Both Takeda and I went still. The quiet was louder than any sound that afternoon could make. Even with the noises outside the former literature club room, it was as if they were on mute. We let a few minutes go by, sitting near each other. We were not sitting close, but near enough that I could hear the tiniest movements Takeda made.

When my eyes finally dried, I became curious and took a peek at Takeda. He was scratching his head and taking a deep breath. By the looks of it, I assumed he was getting bored. And I guessed it was about time for him to realize that being here with me would amount to nothing. He should just leave me alone… After all… I deserved to be alone…

Takeda stretched, groaned, and leaned back against the wall to make himself sit comfortably on the floor.

“Let’s just talk then,” he said. “What do you think about our math class today?”

…What? Why suddenly talk about math?

I glanced at him, trying to figure out what could be going on in his mind through his expression. But I only found him resting his hands behind his head against the wall. His eyes stared at the old bookshelves located in the opposite corner from where we sat. Frustration seemed to linger on his face, as if he were reminiscing about what had happened.

“I really don’t get it…” Takeda sighed and paused. “...I don’t get why Tanaka-sensei have to be so strict. Like, I only yawned once during his lecture this morning. It’s not that big of a deal.”

I raised an eyebrow at what he said. Of course it should be a big deal. We were students after all, and it was our job to listen. Yawning once, twice, or more; the number of times didn’t matter. If he disrupted the class, if he didn't listen to the lecture, of course the teacher would scold him. What was he even expecting?

“Did you even listen to him?” I said, breaking out completely from the shell I had created with my arms and knees. I looked at Takeda, who had begun to stare at the ceiling.

“No,” he answered. And I wasn’t surprised. “I was busy thinking of something else.”

“Like what?”

“Lunch…”

…I frowned and narrowed my eyes at the incompetence I was seeing. Wasn’t he supposed to care about his grades? And yet, here I was finding out he wasn’t paying attention in class. I thought he was just slow, since I sometimes saw him looking so serious during lectures but still ending up with low marks. But it turned out he just wasn’t paying attention at all. All that was in that head of his, all that concentration, was about what was inside his lunch box.

Exhaustion suddenly overwhelmed me…

I retreated back inside my shell. I felt at that moment, I realized at that moment, that everything was just a waste of time. “Maybe we should stop,” I muttered.

“Stop what?” Takeda asked, sounding a bit concerned yet clueless about what I meant.

“All this,” I said and paused, the exhaustion releasing with each breath I took. I dug my forehead deeper into my knees and started to feel the void fill my chest. “Me helping you, you helping me… everything… this talk too.”

“Hey, you’re not serious right?” Takeda tried to laugh it off. It was as if he found what I said to be funny.

He waited for my response, but the passing minutes only made him realize that I wasn’t joking. Soon, he started feeling nervous.

“C-come on…” Takeda choked as I heard him moving a little closer to me. “You know that I need to pass the finals to—”

“Then maybe start listening in class,” I interrupted his nonsense.

“Impossible!” Takeda yelled.

I was startled and jumped a little, raising my head to look at what he was doing.

“AAAAAAAAAH!” he yelled desperately, lowering his head and clutching his hair in sheer stress. “What am I gonna do now? I thought we had a deal!”

“We did, but you failed!” I insisted, sounding accusatory without actually having any substantial evidence to condemn him. All I knew was he failed. And that was it.

“It’s not my fault,” Takeda pleaded, dropping to his knees and bowing his head so low it almost hit the floor. “Please give me another chance!”

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Heavy guilt guided my stare down to the floor, inviting me to think about what I had done earlier at the gym. “It’s too late,” I responded. How could I go back to being optimistic? I had hurt another person simply because I thought I was being deprived of something they already had. Something I wished to have for myself. Something they were able to acquire so easily. Yet it took painstakingly hard work for me to even brush my fingers against that kind of reality.

I was jealous.

I was angry.

I was… despicable.

And I didn’t deserve anything. Not a second chance. Not an opportunity. Nothing.

“Are you really giving up?” Takeda raised his head and gave me a more serious stare. It was like his eyes were able to open the door into my thoughts, into my heart, and see right through the void where I hid all my worries away. “Without doing anything? Without finding out what he feels about you?”

“You don’t unders—”

“I do…”

The conviction in his eyes bore into me, pulling me closer like a moth to a flame. It was dangerous. Even knowing that the flame right before me would cause me pain, no matter how hard I tried to flee, those narrow, sharp eyes invited mine. And the invitation was accepted. Our gazes locked onto each other; uncomfortable at first, but somehow I couldn’t look away.

“You know that of all the people around this school, I’m the one that understands that the most,” Takeda continued. “You saw me struggle…” He paused for a moment. “You saw me do stupid stuff. You even tried to use that against me.”

“Huh? Aren’t you thinking too highly of yourself? The only one who understands the most?” I raised my voice in anger. That was stupid; that was so stupid for him to say. What was he trying to prove? What did he even mean? It was too arrogant; it was disingenuous. Did he think he was some kind of prince, riding on a horse, coming here to save me? Ridiculous!

“Stop being angry,” Takeda sighed. “You’re supposed to be smart, and you can’t even figure out what I meant.”

“Then what!?”

“Simple… both of us didn’t do anything. I was content just watching Runa from a distance, and you, the same with that transfer student. Isn’t similarity enough to say I understand you?” Takeda pushed himself up from the floor and sat up straighter. All that time, he never took his eyes off me. “But even if I knew it was impossible. I still tried, you know.”

Takeda’s voice gradually sank, thick with pain, as his gaze dropped to the floor below.

That crack in his composure only lasted a fraction of a second.

“I don’t really think you do,” I said, calmer this time, and finally managed to pull myself away from his gaze. “You and I… we’re not the same.”

“But we’re still chasing the same thing…” he replied. “We’re both longing for that person we like to notice us.”

I didn’t answer this time… Because he was right… But I still refused to acknowledge that he was right. We both lived different lives. We both talked to different people. And even if there were similarities between us, what we saw and experienced in our own separate lives were parallels that only coincided and crossed at certain random intersections. Up until then, we had simply been passing each other by. And through a slim chance, we crossed that same intersection at the same time, coincidentally meeting where we were. Yet everything I saw along the way was mine, and everything he saw along the way was his. We never got to see the road the other had taken. So how could Takeda think that he could link his experience to mine?

He didn’t understand. He would never understand. Thus, I could never trust him.

…

…But.

“You’re like, trying to pretend, right?” Takeda continued. I stared at him curiously. “You’re pretending you’re a bad person even though you’re not…”

…

I inhaled and exhaled through my nose, placed a palm on my forehead, and shook my head slowly. This guy… really. Just saying whatever he wanted to say, trying to figure me out. At the very least, he could try to be accurate for once.

…

Wait… What was I thinking…? Was I hoping for him to actually figure me out…?

…

Ridiculous. There was no way…

“You’re pitifully off,” I tried to correct him. “It should be the opposite. I am pretending to be a good person…”

“Really?”

Huh?

I frowned at him.

“I mean, when I saw you yesterday. Weren’t you muttering about some hag that tried to insult your friends?” Takeda said. “Doesn’t make you a good person, at least to your friends?”

The frown I had directed at him faded as he spoke. I felt like saying something back; I felt like telling him he was wrong. But I felt uneasy that his tangled logic somehow made sense to me.

A good person… me? That was something I would never describe myself as.

It was like looking at a piece of mud-soaked cloth lying on the ground, with only a small patch of it clean, and then claiming that the whole cloth was perfectly usable. With how dirty I felt at that moment, how was he able to point to that tiny clean spot and claim it as evidence that I was not the person I thought I was? A dirty cloth was a dirty cloth; even if part of it wasn’t stained, you still needed to wash it clean. And so… I had to make it clear to him. After all…

“I hurt Mika,” I whispered. Loud enough for him to hear. Quiet enough that I wouldn't have to bear the full weight of that guilt. But it still stung… It painfully stung…

“You still think that? I already told you that Sasaki…”

“I still asked her to aim around Mika!” I yelled, interrupting yet another attempt of his to derail me from the truth. “I made a plan, called it a strategy, and convinced everyone else that it was the only way for us to win.”

The pain was painted all over my face. I scowled at Takeda and tried to force the sting I was feeling onto him, stabbing him with every word I spoke. I bit my lip. I closed my eyes tightly a few times in between staring at him, with every intention of making him stop his assumptions, to stop all his stupid ways of steering me away from what I had already accepted to be true.

“And then when Mika fell… I s-s-stared at her… I… f-f-felt joy… I…” My voice started to tremble; my hands began to shake. Tears once again struggled to find their way out of my eyes, so I shut them tight… “I am despicable… I—”

Takeda shook his head and sighed a little.

“I know you are,” he said.

That only sank all the accumulated self-hatred deeper inside me, almost forcing the tears from my eyes.

“But do you really think people have to be perfect so that they can be called a ‘good person’?”

I tilted my head away from him…

“All of us have all these thoughts, you know. Like thinking and hoping that something bad might happen to someone, or becoming jealous and irritated at someone else,” Takeda continued. “People pretend a lot. Teachers pretend they’re the smartest in class, high school students who are a bit talented at a sport pretend that they’re the best player in the world, Akihiko pretending to be a charismatic lovable person, even though he’s a jerk. Even I pretended to be someone I was not.”

Takeda took a moment to breathe. But his words started to drift through my head. One after the other, no matter how much I refused to let them in, his words found a crack in my thoughts until suddenly… I was just there… longing for him to continue…

“And you know… Other people hurt other people a lot too. Whether they intend to or not.” Takeda stretched his arms and legs. “You might feel that you’re the worst person right now. But I’m pretty sure you’re not even half worse than the real worst person out there.”

I slowly raised my head toward him. As soon as my eyes landed on him, I knew what had guided me to look.

Takeda smiled… genuinely… gently… while his eyes carefully held mine. Gently tending to the fragile grass that surrounded me. And I looked into his eyes and couldn’t turn away, just like earlier. I couldn’t explain it. But for some reason, when I felt like I was about to drown in my sorrows, he just kept speaking words that pulled me back before it was too late.

“Yeah, people suck sometimes. I've sucked sometimes. You've sucked sometimes. That doesn't mean that's everything we are,” Takeda said.

Then, like the earth shaking violently around me, the shell I was in began to crumble. The roaring sound of each crack forced my eyes wider. I was horrible. But so was everybody else. I clenched my fists as if grasping the realizations of that moment, holding them tight, refusing to let them go. And I leaned forward.

It was as if… I wanted… no… I needed to hear more from Takeda… I needed him to tell me more… I needed him…

“But…” I unconsciously muttered, as if some part of me still wanted to resist and pull away from him.

Whatever was pulling me away, it wasn’t strong enough.

“If you’re still worried about Mika-san.” Takeda’s smile suddenly became even more radiant. “Well… you know what to do,” he shrugged.

I averted my gaze to hide my smile from him. I stared at the floor and pulled myself back to where I was. I gazed outside the window, then toward the chair, trying to stall until I could compose myself fully. And when I did…

“So…” I took a deep breath to regain my composure. “You said you were pretending too?” I asked.

“It’s a long story, actually,” Takeda replied, scratching his head and letting out a deep sigh.

“Do you mind sharing?” I asked gently.

“Okay, well… when I was a kid…”

“Do we have to start that far?” I teased him.

“Guh…” He groaned a little while I tried my best to stifle my giggle. “If you’re not interested then I won’t tell you.”

“Sorry… I’m listening,” I smiled, shutting my mouth and intending to listen.

“You won’t laugh?”

I slowly nodded.

“So basically…” Takeda hesitated a bit. But when he saw the anticipation in my eyes, he felt compelled to continue. “When I was a kid… My parents ignored me a lot. You know, the good old; they were busy from work and all. I tried to be the good kid they expected me to be. Studying and getting good grades, doing chores, listening to what they say. Eventually though, being a good kid was like the bare minimum they expect from me, so they just kept ignoring me. But eventually, I found another way to make them pay attention.”

“Which was?” I asked when he paused.

“I started doing some… you know… bad things… like… breaking the vase and ruining the sofa, small stuff like those,” Takeda continued.

“Aww, isn’t that cute. Little Takeda wants mama and dada’s attention,” I teased.

Takeda clicked his tongue, clearly showing his dislike toward my persistent teasing. But I could see that his desire to continue didn’t waver. And here I was, still being the same me, always wanting control over the conversation… or so I wanted to tell myself…

Because the truth was…

Even though I didn’t know why…

I just wanted to tease him… because… somehow… at that moment… I felt… comfortable… around him…

“It did work, for a while. But then they just hired someone else to look after me.” Takeda raised his head and searched beyond whatever was on the ceiling. “And then, middle school happened. That was when I tried to escalate things. Like, dyeing my hair, skipping classes, acting rebellious and all. And the school called for my parents one time, and both of them showed up. I was happy. But as usual, it didn’t last long.”

Takeda took a moment of silence.

And then he continued… “They started ignoring the school and sent someone else instead. In the end… I guess I was just nothing to them.” Takeda yawned, but to me, that yawn felt like his way of hiding his sadness. After all… I did feel sad… I hadn’t expected his past to be like this. I might be wrong… I might just be assuming he was sad… “Oh, and for the record. I acted rebellious but I wasn’t actually someone who picked fights. So, yeah. I pretended to be a rebellious kid, if we’re being technical here.”

Even so…

“How do you feel about it now?” I asked, a sprinkle of curiosity and a small dose of concern mixing in my voice.

“Well I’m used to it now, so I don’t care anymore,” Takeda answered casually. He smiled and leaned back against the wall while facing me. “I found something else that I wanted to look forward to.”

“Basketball?”

“Yeah.” Takeda’s smile grew wider, like a kid being offered a piece of his favorite candy for free. “And this time, I’ll pretend I’m the best in the country… and then the best in the world! I’ll pretend until I make it.”

“That sounds like an impossible goal.”

“Of course it is, but isn’t it exciting?”

Uncertainty. Something that I really disliked. I wanted to always be certain of everything, even the future. But looking at Takeda, sparkling with anticipation over things that he could never control, even though I didn’t understand why he felt that way… I felt like I wanted to step into that world too. Step into his world. Then maybe… just maybe… I would understand why he looked forward to uncertainty.

“So what about you?” Takeda finally asked.

I hesitated and kept quiet for a moment. But it wasn’t like I was unwilling to say anything. Unlike earlier, it felt easier to tell him. But… I just wanted reassurance.

“Promise me…” I muttered.

“Okay, but what?” Takeda softly replied.

“Promise me… you won’t judge me?”

“Pfft,” Takeda almost burst out laughing.

“Huh? Why are you laughing!?!” I panicked.

“Sorry,” Takeda said, still trying to fight through the chuckles. When he finally composed himself, he looked at me and gently nodded. “I promise, of course I won’t judge you.”

I smiled.

Like a feather separated from a bird’s wing, blown by the wind, flying through the air on its own, I was finally free from the heaviness my chest had been carrying. Finally, I was able to smile and genuinely let my heart take over.

And so… I faced Takeda. Feeling determined, I placed all my trust in him.

As I talked about myself…

While he listened… patiently…

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After my talk with Takeda, I went to visit Mika in the infirmary first. She was still there, waiting for the nurse’s decision on whether to send her to the hospital for a second opinion. But the nurse’s initial assessment found nothing serious. No broken bones, no severe injuries. Yet Mika’s shoulder was still bruised.

I apologized to her. And she was angry.

She told me she hated me. But she would accept my apology only if I led our team to the finals. Because apparently, even though she couldn’t participate for a few days, there was a chance for her to return for the final day of the tournament.

I looked into her eyes and I promised. And she nodded and smiled.

I knew I would never be able to make her like me anymore. Not after all the things that I had done to her recently. And even though Mika accepted Sasaki’s explanation, it didn’t mean I had nothing to do with it. Which I never denied.

Before I left the infirmary, Yui and Runa arrived. And I apologized to them too: for letting them see how unsightly I had been, and for running off and disrupting our practice so abruptly. They had a lot of questions, but I never gave them any answers. As usual, I just smiled.

I smiled, looked into their eyes, and promised that I would tell them one day.

I left the school grounds after changing back into my uniform. Yui, Runa, and Mika’s flashy friends accompanied Mika to the hospital. No matter how concerned I felt, I didn’t think I should go with them, which was appropriate. But it wasn’t like I was still feeling miserable. In fact, I was looking forward to tomorrow so I could begin fulfilling the promise I had made to Mika.

…

But why…

Why was Takeda walking with me toward the station right now?

“Don’t worry about tomorrow,” he said, trying to conclude what he had been talking about for the past few minutes after we left school. “I have a good plan.”

“It’s definitely not going to work,” I replied.

“Trust me, if we implement what I thought of, you’ll be thanking me afterwards,” Takeda grinned. “That transfer student will definitely fall for you after.”

I raised an eyebrow and shook my head. Then I walked faster, leaving Takeda behind.

“A-Asakura-san!?” he yelled my last name.

I turned around and pointed a finger at him, which made him stop in his tracks.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Huh? Takeda?”

“I meant your first name,” I frowned.

“Uhh… Kenji…”

“From now on, call me Hina. And then I will call you Kenji.”

“Asaku—”

“Hina!”

“H-Hina-san,” Takeda finally said, hesitating a little.

I turned around and kept walking toward the station.