Chapter Text
May of 2001
The warm, muggy air hung particularly low after the heavy rain the little farm town had just received. There was a familiarity in the petrichor scent that wafted off the freshly drenched farmland that readied all the men to say ‘we needed that’ when they reached town tomorrow morning, spewing it to anyone who they could. Satoru’s father wasn’t any different, and his son could practically see that phrase dancing on the tip of his tongue as they sat on the front porch, waiting for the last drops of rain to stop.
Summer was almost upon them, just a bit longer for the tail end of spring to finally give up for the year, which meant it was prime strawberry season–the most profitable season of the year for Satoru’s father. The man was a hardass that most people didn’t like. He was rude, blunt, and unapologetically brash, but he did have a knack for growing the best strawberries in town, and for that reason alone, he wasn’t shunned by the rest of the townsfolk.
He sold them by the crate at the weekend farmer’s market, always making sure to raise the price just a little more than what they were sold for at the town’s local grocery store. But the folks around there didn’t mind because those strawberries were always worth their weight in gold. Even when the berries were out of season and he could no longer sell them at his honorary strawberry stand, Satoru’s mother made sure to prepare enough canned goods and jams to keep a steady stream of income through the colder months.
But the real money maker was always the wine.
The older gentleman looked up at the dark clouds that were making their way to the next town over, and said, “Think you kids are ready?”
Satoru and Shoko eagerly nodded.
“I want two full baskets, you hear? Completely full, no half-assing it.” Satoru’s father demanded, handing off a basket to the two children standing in front of him. “And if you want fresh strawberries for that shortcake your mama made, you better get extra.”
“Yes, sir,” the children answered together, taking the empty baskets and swinging them as they rushed toward the fields of strawberries.
“Be careful. The grass is slick,” Satoru’s father called out to them, making them slow down only slightly. “If you fall and break a bone, Satoru, your mother will have a fit. Slow down. You, too, Ieri.”
“Sorry, sir!”
The duo continued at a much slower pace this time, but only until they were sure Satoru’s father could no longer see them. By the time they made it to the long rows of berry plants, they were out of breath, having just raced one another to get there.
“I won!” Shoko panted, hands falling onto her knees as she dragged in deep gulps of air.
“No. I did.”
And the rest of their time would go on like that, debating who was the winner and who was not. They filled their baskets in record time after turning that into a competition as well, and when they were finished, they decided to sneak off to the creek before Satoru’s father could scold them for doing so.
The two friends found themselves crouching in the tall grass that swayed on either side of the easy water. The blades were still dripping with the previous spurt of rain, but it didn’t bother either of them, not even when the mosquitoes came out and started to nibble at their legs.
No, they were too focused on the frog that sat between them. Satoru, enraptured by poking it with a stick, and Shoko, absolutely terrified in the presence of such a beast–the frog , not Satoru .
“Satoru,” Shoko began in a low, warning tone, hoping that her friend wasn’t about to do what she thought he might, but his ornery grin in response didn’t do anything to ease that fear. “Don’t you dare.”
“Come on, Shoko,” Satoru sang, poking the stick at the giant, slimy bullfrog. “Look at him. He’s cute.”
“He is not! It’s ugly!” she bleated, stumbling away from her friend when he forced the frog to take a tiny jump in her direction. “Get that thing away from me!”
But that only made Satoru give the frog an even harder nudge with the end of his stick, and it was that poke that seemed to do the trick. Just as the jagged edge of the wood pressed into the amphibian’s fat leg, it jumped right onto Shoko’s lap. As soon as the little girl felt its cold, wet feet make contact with her exposed leg, she screamed and fell back, trying desperately to fling the slimy beast off of her.
Satoru, as always, was no help as he stood back and laughed until he cried, watching her writhe in the dirt in an attempt to get away from the frog. All was well, for Satoru, that is, until Shoko flung her body too far to one side, knocking over both baskets of strawberries. Instantly, the laughter died on Satoru’s lips, and Shoko’s struggle came to a halt as the berries they had spent the last two hours picking rolled around in the dirt of the creek bank until they hit the water.
“Shit!” they cursed in unison, rushing into the water to collect what they could of the strawberries. “Your dad is gonna be so pissed!”
“Yeah, and it’s all your fault,” Satoru snapped, throwing his handfuls of creek-soiled berries into his basket.
“My fault? It’s yours!”
“You knocked them over!”
“You threw a frog at me!”
“I did not! He jumped at you! Because he’s a frog-”
“Because you pushed him in my direction!”
Amid their bickering, the duo hadn’t noticed the extra presence who had just entered the area from the other side of the creek.
“You’re so stupid!” Shoko groaned, cursing under her breath as she dropped a couple of pieces of fruit back into the water.
“No, you’re stupid! Who’s actually afraid of frogs?”
“Me! And you knew that before you poked it with a stick!”
“You knew I was going to poke it! So why did you wait for it to jump on you?!”
“Whatever, just-”
Shoko’s words were halted by her abrupt gasp, a sound that caused Satoru to stop what he was doing to see what had scared her. For a moment, he was hoping it was another frog, but his hopes soured when he saw another boy standing in the water, who watched the red berries float on past his knee-high green mud boots.
The two friends exchanged looks and stepped closer to one another while the other boy just smiled, seeming a bit nervous. Raising his hand, he offered a small wave, one that wasn’t reciprocated.
“Hello,” he greeted, a friendly smile wavering when the duo didn’t greet him back, leading him to believe that he might’ve startled the other children. “I scared you, didn’t I?”
“You think?” Satoru sneered, “You came out of the woods like a creep. And now you’re just standing there.”
“Well, I was going to introduce myself.” He dropped his smile completely, seeing that he’d already peeved off those whom he thought could be his new friends. “I’m-”
“We don’t care,” Satoru interrupted as he began to pick up what was left of the spilled berries. “Now get off my property.”
The stranger tilted his head, his shaggy black hair slipping across his cheek as he stared down at Satoru.
“Your property? Aren’t you like nine?”
“Eleven, actually.”
“Still too young to own property.”
“Okay,” he hissed, tossing the basket of strawberries onto the bank before giving the boy his attention. “Get off my family’s property before I tell my dad you’re trespassing. Go back to the hovel you came from.”
“Satoru,” Shoko chided, glancing toward the boy, who was now frowning, eyes a little glossy. “What’s your name?”
Per usual, her friend chimed in with, “Who cares-”
“I do. Look, you’ve almost made him cry.” Her red rainboots sloshed through the water as she stepped toward him. “Satoru can be a little shit sometimes.”
That comment earned her a disgruntled scoff from said asshole, but she brushed him off.
“I’m Shoko.”
Finally, the smile came back to the other boy's face as he held his hand out to her. The girl found the action odd as none of the other kids she’s met had ever tried to formally introduce themselves with a handshake, but she took it anyway.
“Suguru.”
“Hi, Suguru. What are you doing out here in the woods? It’s almost dark, you know.”
“My daddy said I should come meet you. Said there was a shortcut through the woods.”
“Your daddy, huh?” Satoru goaded, “What are you? A baby?”
Suguru shook his head. “I’m ten.”
“That’s too old to be calling your dad ‘daddy’ .”
Shoko turned to glare at her friend. “I call your dad ‘daddy’ . And I’m older than you.”
He rolled his eyes at her comment. “Yeah, and it makes you sound like a baby.”
Without looking at the former boy, she addressed him, “It’s okay, Suguru. The only one who sounds like a baby is Satoru.” Shoko reached down into the running creek, cupped her hands, and splashed water at Satoru, making him shriek. With a satisfied grin, she teased, “See?”
Face dripping wet with creek water, Satoru seethed, “You are dead, Ieri,” but the threat meant nothing to her as she waved him away, giving her attention to Suguru, who was snickering as the whole ordeal unfolded.
“Come with us. We need to get extra strawberries. You can help us pick them-”
“No way!” Satoru complained behind her.
“And then you can have strawberry shortcake with us, too.”
Despite Satoru’s loud, obnoxious protests, Suguru did help them pick more strawberries, and he did get his own serving of strawberry shortcake when they were finished. Satoru glared at him the entire time, but it wasn’t until Shoko and Suguru were sitting on the front porch together, joking around with one another that Satoru began to glare at both of them, and it was all done through the kitchen window while he shoveled his own serving of dessert into his mouth.
For some reason, it tasted rather bitter this time.
“You can go sit with them, you know,” Satoru’s mother chimed in, appearing behind her son with a knowing grin on her mouth. “He’s just the new neighbor boy. You should be his friend.”
“I do not want to be friends with him. He’s a baby and he’s annoying.”
“Are you sure you don’t just think that because Shoko is giving him more attention than you?” Her son’s bright blue eyes narrowed in her direction. “Don’t you glare at me,” she chuckled, brushing a lock of his white hair out of his face.
“He calls his dad ‘daddy’ .”
“So what? Lots of people do that. That doesn’t make him a baby or annoying. So what’s really upsetting you about him?”
The boy sighed, “He thinks Shoko’s his best friend now.”
“Maybe Shoko is his best friend, just like she’s your best friend.”
“I want to be Shoko’s best friend, too.”
His mother bit back her laughter and instead pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. “You can have two best friends, you know. Your father is my best friend, and so is my sister, and the girls from town-”
“I can’t have two best friends. It’s just not possible. I only want Shoko.”
“Okay, so what if you keep Shoko as your best friend, and Suguru can be your regular friend? Does that work?” Satoru’s scowl only deepened at her suggestion, making her smile. “Don’t get so worked up over something so small, baby.”
Then, Shoko and Suguru entered the house. The front door accidentally caught the wind and slammed shut, which earned them both a stern scold from Satoru’s father in the next room over, and for some reason, that made Satoru a little happy.
“Sorry, sir!” they rushed to say before Satoru’s mother ushered them into the kitchen.
“Did you kids like the shortcake?” she asked, collecting their plates and putting them in the sink. As the two began expressing their appreciation for the dessert, complimenting his mother on her talent as a baker, Satoru, once again, glared at the newcomer, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Let me pack some up for you to take home. Now, you promise to share this with your parents, alright?”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. Thank you!”
“Satoru, go get the flashlights from the basement and make sure they’re working.”
“For what?”
“You and Shoko are going to walk Suguru home. It’s getting dark, so you’ll need flashlights.”
Feeling a bit defiant, he decided to test his mother’s patience.
“No.”
Everyone paused, even Satoru.
“Excuse me?” She glanced down at her son, who stood there with crossed arms. “Satoru. Go get the flashlights. Now.”
“No.” And he tried his luck by pressing further. “I don’t want to walk him home. He can do it in the dark. By himself.”
“Satoru!” his mother gasped at his unapologetic rudeness. “I raised you better than that.”
“I don’t like him. I already told you.” His eyes flicked to Suguru, who seemed embarrassed by the whole ordeal. “He’s stupid.”
One second passed, then two, then three, and still, Satoru made no move toward the basement for the flashlights, nor did he try to apologize. While she could be very patient with her son and his stubborn antics, she would not take blatant disrespect, not toward herself or any other guest in her household.
“Honey,” she called out, making her son and his friend stiffen.
“Yes?” Satoru’s father answered from the other room.
“Can you come here, please?” The sound of his heavy footsteps pacing closer to the kitchen sent a chill down their spines. “Shoko, dear, would you go get the flashlights. And Suguru, can you wait outside, please?”
The sound of Satoru’s sniffles and his mother’s needle piercing the cross-stitching cloth filled the air of the living room. The sting of the welt on his behind had begun to fade a while ago, but, of course, that wasn’t the end of his punishment. With his nose to the corner, he waited to hear the sound of Shoko and his father return, and only when they were back would he be allowed to go to his room.
Finally, after what felt like hours, he heard his father step into the living room, while Shoko’s quick feet raced up the steps to her bedroom. Taking that as his sign, he pushed away from the corner and moved toward the stairwell, only to be stopped by his father’s hand pressing against his forehead.
“You’re gonna give that boy a proper apology tomorrow morning, do you understand me?” His son nodded. “Speak up-”
“Yes, sir.”
He gave Satoru’s head a gentle pat, silently telling him to get out of his sight, which his son did, and raced up the steps just as quickly as Shoko had. As if she knew he’d be right up, Shoko followed him into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind him.
“Did you get the paddle or the corner?” she asked, flopping down on his bed beside him.
“Both.”
“Yikes.”
He tearfully agreed with her, wiping at his red, puffy eyes with his fist. Of course, Shoko had seen Satoru get in trouble many times before, and while she usually finds it a little bit funny– because his punishments are usually warranted –she couldn’t help but feel a little different about it this time. Maybe it was seeing just how puffy his eyes were, or maybe he seemed unusually silent. Either way, she wanted to make him feel better, even if he didn’t deserve it.
“You wanna go look for frogs in the morning? Your mama said it’s gonna rain again tonight. If we get up early enough, I bet we can catch some-”
“I can’t,” he interjected, sniveling still, “They want me to tell him I’m sorry.”
“Oh. Are you sorry?”
“No.”
“Figures,” she snickered, “Well, I can go with you, if you want. Suguru said he has a PlayStation. I’ve never seen one before, but the kids at school talk about them. I wanna see if he’ll let me play on it.”
He kept his mouth shut, stomach churning with jealousy to hear his best friend sound so excited to hang out with a complete stranger.
“Hey, Satoru. Why don’t you like Suguru? He’s really nice.” All she received in response to her question was a sullen shrug.
And that was as far as that conversation went because seconds later, they heard two sets of footsteps fall in the hallway outside his bedroom.
“Miss Shoko, I hope you’re in your own bed,” Satoru’s father called out, to which she promptly removed herself from her friend’s bedroom, muttering a quick good night as she left.
All too quickly, the night passed, fading into the early morning, and finally, Satoru found himself standing on his new neighbor’s front porch with Shoko right beside him. She had just knocked on the door and heard who they assumed was Suguru’s mother call out to them, “Be there in a second!”
The gingham curtains covering the windows beside the door were pulled aside, catching the attention of the two children. Before they could tell who it was, they heard that same voice say, “Suguru! Your friends are here to see you!”
“Cross your fingers he lets us play,” Shoko gushed, pulling her middle finger over her pointer finger on both hands. The sight of it made Satoru roll his eyes. “Actually, pray for it instead.”
“I don’t want to play on his stupid PlayStation.”
Shoko scoffed, “Well, can you at least pray for me ?”
No praying took place on Satoru’s end while they waited for the door to open, and when it was, much to Satoru’s displeasure, it was Suguru who was standing there.
“Hi,” he politely greeted, stepping out onto the porch. “My mama’s cleaning the house today, said we have to play outside.”
“I’m not here to play,” Satoru stated, earning a harsh nudge in the ribs from his friend. “My parents wanted me to apologize to you.”
“Oh, okay.” He nodded, gesturing for Satoru to continue.
“And now that I’ve done so, Shoko, let’s go-”
“That was your apology? That’s not how you do it.”
Gritting his teeth, he curled his fingers into fists. “It’s as good as you’re going to get.”
“Satoru, just say you’re sorry,” Shoko insisted.
“Fine. I’m sorry. Is that better?” he snapped at them both.
Suguru smiled. “Much better. Now, let’s go play-”
“Didn’t you hear me? I don’t want to play with you.”
“Then don’t. Go home if that’s what you want,” Suguru hissed, raising his voice for the first time.
While Satoru was planning on going home anyway, now that he’s been told to, he found himself not really wanting to make that journey back to his house. But the alternative was playing with Suguru, and he’d rather die than do that.
“Fine. I will.”
As soon as he turned his back on Suguru and Shoko, the tears that were rapidly welling in his eyes started to spill over. By the time he did make it home, his face was red and splotchy, and avoiding his mother would be inevitable if he went inside. With that in mind, he decided to walk around the yard and wait for Shoko to come back–maybe she’d want to look for frogs with him later since she offered last night. While the walk would ensure that Satoru could avoid his mother, the same couldn’t be said about his father.
“You tell him you’re sorry?” his father called out from the open shed he’d just walked past.
Briefly, he wondered if he could just pretend as though he didn’t hear his father and keep on walking, but after disobeying his mother last night and getting a solid spank from his father, he knew better than to ignore him. Satoru huffed, backtracked in his path, and entered the shed to see his father cleaning out his distillation unit.
“Well?”
“I told him.”
“Good.” His father squinted as he peered down into the copper still. “If you kissed and made up, what are you doing back here then?”
“Didn’t feel like playing outside, is all,” he sniffed, averting his gaze.
“I see,” his father hummed, “Then that’s good to hear because I could use some help. I’m making a new batch of wine since we’re almost out of last year's. You can crush the strawberries for me.”
Satoru internally deflated. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help his father; it was that he just didn’t particularly enjoy spending time alone with his father. Especially not when he’s making wine, as this was the man’s only hobby, and he took it very seriously. But he listened to his father since he wasn’t keen on another night of a sore behind and time alone in the corner.
It was quiet while they worked, and maybe a little awkward at first, but eventually, Satoru adapted to the silence and sort of enjoyed it. Toward the end, when his father was mixing up the yeast and sugar, he glanced at his son.
“Wanna make your own bottle?”
Satoru slowed his crushing of the strawberries to process what his father had just asked him.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what I said. Do you wanna make your own bottle of wine? ‘Course you can’t have it until you turn twenty-one, but if you make it now, that’ll give it ten years to age. You can start off your twenty-first birthday with a good bottle of alcohol instead of cheap craft beer.”
“Oh. Sure.”
And so his father started a batch and labeled it just for Satoru. He even allowed him to dump in the yeast and sugar, after measuring out the correct amount first, and then he got to pick the spot in the wine shed for the place they’d store it until it was time to pour into a bottle.
“Why’d you let me do that?” he asked, washing the strawberry sludge off his hands.
“One day, it’s all gonna be yours. Better start teaching you how it works now, don’t you think?” Satoru only shrugged in response to that. “Gotta show you how to work the farmer’s market, too, so you’ll be coming with me this weekend.”
“Dad,” he groaned, unable to help the disgruntled sound that seeped into his voice. “Those people all stare at me.”
“Then don’t give them something to stare at.”
Satoru rolled his eyes, though he made sure his back was to his father first.
“They stare at my hair. And my eyes. I can’t help how I look.”
“How do you know that’s what they’re staring at? Maybe they wonder why you always have that glare on your face? Ever think of that?”
Yes, he had, and it didn’t matter how friendly he tried to appear, he was always stared at. But bringing this up to his father was always in vain–his father just didn’t understand what it was like to be different. Satoru even had problems with the other children at school who made fun of him, asking him why he looked the way that he did. The only one who never questioned his appearance was Shoko.
And, Suguru, too.
That little revelation didn’t make Satoru hate Suguru any less, and as time went on at the farm, he only came to dislike his new neighbor more and more since he was always dragging Shoko off without inviting him, not that he’d go anyway.
Months passed: May to June and June to July, and still, Satoru hated Suguru. School was finally out for the summer, and spring had fully given up for the year; the dog days were officially upon them, and all Satoru wanted to do was hang out with Shoko.
But she was always with Suguru.
That was the first summer they weren’t attached at the hip.
August approached, then September. School started, and for a moment, Satoru had hope that he finally had his best friend back since he found out that Suguru was homeschooled. But being a year older than him, Shoko had different classes in a different building that year, and hardly got to see her friend. And in the evenings, when he thought they might get to play together, she was always with Suguru.
October came, then November–Shoko turned thirteen and invited Suguru to her birthday party. It was awful, or so Satoru thought. December came next, and Satoru made a point to tell his mother that Suguru was not invited to his twelfth birthday party, but she made him invite the neighbor boy anyway. Needless to say, Satoru thought his birthday party was awful, too.
Then came the new year, and while Satoru readied himself for twelve terrible months of Shoko abandoning him to hang out with Suguru, Satoru’s mother gave him the best possible news he could have hoped for.
“He’s moving?” Satoru asked his mother, needing confirmation that he’d heard her correctly.
“Yes. His father was deployed, and they’re moving to live on base with him.”
Satoru didn’t really understand the whole meaning behind that–all he cared about was that Shoko was finally going to pay attention to him again. He didn’t think he could be so excited about good news.
“And he’s not coming back?” His mother widened her eyes at him, nodding toward Shoko, who was fighting back tears after his mother had sat them both down to break the news. “What are you crying for? It’s not like he was your best friend-”
“He is my best friend!” she shouted and abruptly pushed away from the table, storming off to her bedroom while leaving Satoru behind to deal with his mother’s incoming lecture.
“That was mean, Satoru-”
“Why? It’s true– I’m her best friend! Not him!”
His mother stood from the table, too.
“Remember what I said about having two best friends at once? Obviously, Shoko and Suguru were really good friends, and she’s upset. You shouldn’t have seemed so happy that he was leaving.”
“But I am happy that he’s leaving.”
She sighed, suppressing her smile, and crouched down beside him. Her fingers brushed back the white hair on his forehead as she pressed a chaste kiss there.
“My world revolves around you, you know that, don’t you?”
“Okay?”
“But that doesn’t mean the rest of the world feels the same way that I do.” Her hands slid to his own, and she tried her best to soften her voice to a level that seemed comforting to him. “To think that you’re the only person Shoko is allowed to care about is selfish, and I didn’t raise you to be that way. You need to be kind and compassionate. Otherwise, people are going to think you’re a brat.”
He pulled his hands away from his mother’s and swiveled around in his chair to face away from her. She huffed and pushed to stand on her feet, offering his fluffy white hair a gentle pat.
“The way you’re acting right now is bratty, Satoru. Shoko is upset-”
“I don’t care.”
“Shoko cares when you’re upset.”
“She didn’t care for the last seven months if I was upset or not. She was too busy hanging out with Suguru.”
“She probably wanted to hang out with you, too. But you were too busy biting off your nose to spite your face.” Satoru groaned, making her chuckle a little. “You should try to cheer her up. She’s sad.”
“I’m not saying sorry-”
“I didn’t tell you to. You’re allowed to have your own feelings and opinions, but you should learn when you should and shouldn’t voice them. And if you make a mistake and end up hurting someone’s feelings, you need to try to make them feel better, then learn from it and try not to let it happen again.”
He didn’t acknowledge her, not even when he heard her open the cabinet to retrieve the cookie jar, but when four strawberry jam cookies were presented to him on a plate, he looked up at her.
“Try to cheer her up.”
“With cookies?”
“It’s called a peace offering. And, yes. They’re her favorite. Now, go.”
She ushered him along toward the stairwell, telling him they each could have two cookies.
As soon as Satoru entered with the cookies and begrudgingly said he was sorry for hurting her feelings, all was well between the two friends again. Childhood should always be as easy as making up over cookies, and for Shoko and Satoru, it was.
However, the same couldn’t be said about Suguru; now he was thousands of miles away from his only friend he’d ever had, having to listen to his mother constantly worry about his father’s safety, about whether or not he’d make it home. Suguru should be used to it by now; his father had been a soldier since before he was born, so listening to his mother’s panic wasn’t anything new, but he’d grown used to the lightness that came with being around Shoko. And now that it was gone, the world felt so much heavier than before.
February rolled around and Suguru spent his birthday alone–there weren’t other children where he lived now. Spring turned to summer, summer to fall, fall to winter, and winter to spring. He received letters from Shoko at least twice a month. He was always grateful for them, and even sent his own back, but it wasn’t the same. They moved around a few times, and Suguru met new kids, but they were never as fun as Shoko.
The same cycle continued, on and on, letter after letter, year after year.
On Suguru’s fifteenth birthday, he received a phone, and quickly exchanged numbers with Shoko. That made it a bit easier since he wouldn’t have to wait days between talking to his friend. On his sixteenth birthday, he got his license for a car he didn’t have, but his mother and father told him they’d save up to get him one. A month after that, his mother announced that she was pregnant with twins, and Suguru knew the chances of him actually getting a car were now slim to none, so he started working to save up for one.
Time for talking to Shoko dwindled until the only communication they had was a few stray text messages; she was busy, too. With what? Suguru wasn’t sure, but he was busy, too. His mother had the twins, and with his father away, Suguru would help out where he could. He gave up his car fund to pay the bills one month, and he didn’t put money back into that savings account. Eventually, the bank closed it.
Right after he turned eighteen, a soldier approached their house with a folded-up flag, offering his condolences for their loss.
Suguru didn’t cry when he learned about his father’s death. He didn’t cry at the wake, and he didn’t cry when he visited the grave. But he did, however, get choked up when his call to Shoko didn’t make it through the few days following the wake. After that, he stopped trying to reach her cell. Suguru was busy anyway.
But then a month later, he received a text.
Unknown Number: Hey, Suguru! This is Shoko! You won’t believe it, I actually got mugged. The city is no fucking joke. Anyway, they stole my cell phone, and I’ve had a hell of a time trying to save up for a new one. Rent is crazy here.
Suguru didn’t even know that she had moved to the city, but as she went on to explain that she was renting out an apartment with a couple of her friends while she attended college, then she’d save money by coming back home through the summer.
Shoko: You should come visit for my birthday! You have a car now, right?
He negated telling her about his father’s passing–he didn’t feel like thinking about it, and instead told her that he didn’t have a car.
Shoko: Hypothetically speaking, if you were picked up this weekend, would that work with your schedule?
As much as he wanted to tell her yes, the answer was a firm no. Not with work, not with school, and not with how things were going with his mother and two sisters.
Shoko: What about this summer? I’ll be home from school.
He couldn’t, not when he planned on working to pay the bills.
Shoko: What if I could get you a job?
Now that piqued his interest.
Shoko: Dad’s getting old, his farm needs a hand. You know how busy it gets in the summer.
So he agreed, how could he not? The pay was more than he would receive stocking shelves at the supermarket, and he’d get to see Shoko, who would definitely keep his mind off his father. This would be good for him–and it was.
Summers on the farm were pretty simple; the work was grueling, of course, but he liked having Shoko around. He saved up enough money for a truck while also sending money back home to pay the bills. In the fall, he returned to his mother to help with his sisters since they were quite the handful in their toddler stage, but the farm was always on his mind.
He went back the next summer, too, and Shoko’s family welcomed him with open arms–save for one person, who was away at college for the first two summers. Suguru didn’t even remember him, not really. Maybe his white hair, bright blue eyes, and shitty personality. His family didn’t mention him very often. Suguru thought it was an out-of-sight, out-of-mind sort of deal, so he didn’t bring him up either. Eventually, he forgot that there was a missing family member to begin with.
So, when he came back to the farm for a third year, he was a little surprised to see a ‘04 Toyota Corolla parked outside the house. Suguru pulled his truck beside the car and took his keys out of the ignition.
As soon as he opened the door, he could hear muffled shouting from inside the house, drifting out the front door that was swung wide open to allow the movers to bring in boxes of stuff, or so he assumed from the multiple boxes that were placed on the front porch. Stepping closer to the front door, he caught he tail-end of the argument.
“...weren’t allowed to come back. When I said you were out of here, I meant it, Satoru-”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.”
From the door appeared the little boy–wait, no–the man Suguru had forgotten about. Obviously, he had grown up in the last ten years, not only taller, but broader, too. Though he wasn’t as broad as Suguru, he was definitely a little taller. The air around him changed, too, from what Suguru could remember.
Gone was the rascal look, dirt smudges, and tattered clothing, and was replaced with everything that opposed that. His hair was cropped shorter now, with a bit of an undercut. He looked clean, like really clean, especially with his put-together outfit that reflected his academic life from the last few years. He even wore glasses, and Suguru thought they really suited his style now. But the thing that remained exactly the same was that supercilious attitude and deeply etched glare to match.
Behind him trailed his red-faced father, not paying any mind to Suguru as he followed his son out to his car, shouting that he was no longer welcome in his house.
“You let Shoko stay, and she isn’t even your daughter-”
“Shoko didn’t abandon her family-”
“I didn’t abandon my family, either. I just left for a little bit. And now, I’m back.” Satoru grabbed one of the boxes, which was then ripped out of his hands by his father and tossed back into Satoru’s car.
“No. Now , you’re going to leave . Be gone. Go put that stupid degree of yours to good use.”
“It’s not stupid, you’re just too stupid to understand it,” he hissed sharply, grabbing the box again to take into the house before his father could stop him.
As he passed Suguru on the porch, their eyes met briefly, making Satoru stop in his tracks. Unabashedly, he stared at Suguru, trying to put a name to a face, but ultimately coming up empty. He shook his head and continued on his path toward his bedroom again.
“You really pissed Dad off this time,” Shoko commented, following Satoru into his bedroom.
“Yeah, what else is new?” he simpered with a growing grin as he unloaded his belongings from the box he brought with him. “Wait until he finds out about the gap year.”
“He’s gonna kick your ass.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second. But at least he knows for sure that I’m going to be leaving at the end of next summer instead of sticking around. Just needed a little break, that’s all.”
Shoko snorted, muttering, “And you chose to take your break here, where Dad’s gonna give you hell for the next year and a half. You’re stupid.”
He shrugged. “At least I have a buffer since Mom’s happy to have me back.”
“I’m happy to have you back, too. Summers here are no fun without you.”
“ Mhm …” he knowingly hummed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Mom said there’s a farmhand who’s been keeping you company just fine.”
While Satoru had grown out of his overly jealous phase– sort of – he still wasn’t too keen on having the guy around for the entire summer, where only he and Shoko were supposed to hang out. But maybe the farmhand would take the hint and leave them alone after a while, and Satoru wouldn’t have to sink to being a jealous degenerate.
Her face lit up as she gave a small, excited clap. “Oh, good! So you know he’s here. I noticed his truck pull up while I was in the kitchen.”
“Yeah. I think I passed him on the way up here. Long black hair, piercings, and tattoos. He’s kinda cute,” Satoru mused as he began setting up his clunky desktop computer, but when he heard Shoko’s snickering, he stopped and glanced at her over his shoulder. “What’s so funny?”
“Don’t you remember him?”
“Well, he looked a little familiar. Why? Did we go to school with him or something?”
“Or something,” she teased, taking steps backward toward Satoru’s bedroom door. “I’ll just let you figure this one out on your own. I think it’ll be a little funny.”
He grimaced at her, waving her off as he turned back to the task at hand. “Whatever. Go be cryptic somewhere else.”
“Will do, but we’re going out later, by the way.”
“Who?”
“You and me. Duh.”
He hooked up the proper wires while asking, “Just you and me?”
“Okay, maybe the farmhand, too. But you said he was cute, so now you have to come.”
“I don’t even know who he is yet-”
“All the more reason to come out with us! You can get to know him!”
“Shoko-”
“Ah, I’m not giving you an option. Be ready to go at seven!”