The oak desk was polished and shone in the fluorescent lights of the office of the principal of Sunshine High. Ryuzi sat in a stiff pose in the corner chair with his blazer pressed but his posture exuded defiance. His father Daichi Takeda was a tall man with an austonomous voice.
No more rumors about my son, Daichi said in his deep voice, filling the room. Make sure no lies circulate in this school. His future depends on it."
Principal Mori put his glasses back on. "Of course, Mr. Takeda. Sunshine High appreciates every student. I guarantee you, Ryuzi will not be treated unfairly here.
Ryuzi threw back his head and looked away out of the window. Future. Reputation. Name. Always the same words. His chest felt hollow. He shut his fists in his lap, where he held back his tongue with teeth. Nobody had ever questioned him about his feelings in being uprooted.
His mother, Ayumi, was sitting quietly next his father, her hands locked together so tightly that the knuckles were pale. She continued to stare at Ryuzi out of the corner of her eye, and her lips were open as though she were going to say something. As the dark eyes of her son swept across to her she turned away instead to her lap.
Daichi curtly replied after the principal had completed his promises: Let's go. The hand of his father fell on the shoulder of Ryuzi--a gesture of encouragement, but it was like a burden, like a pressure.
Ryuzi silently obeyed, and walked after them, his steps dragging.
The passage was long and silent, lockers shining in the harsh lights. They were about to go out of the exit, and Ayumi was hesitating.
Her voice was low, almost too low--Ryuzi, she said. He turned, his eyes tired. Eat your lunch to-day, try, alright?
...Sure, he said to himself, and turned away once more. Food. Grades. Rules. That is all they ever worry about.
What he failed to notice was how Ayumi bit her lip, her hand trembling to reach out. Daichi, who was walking, turned back and looked at his son with eyes that no one could read.
Keep your back straight, he said. "You're a Takeda."
Ryuzi's jaw tightened. A Takeda. Never just... me.
That night, at the Takeda home dinner lay hot on the table. Ryuzi moved rice around his bowl without an appetite. His mother continued to look at him but made no comment. The silence was broken by his father in his clipped way.
"Focus on your studies. Sunshine High is tougher. Don't waste this chance."
Ryuzi threw down his chopsticks on the table with a dead clatter. "I get it." He scrapped himself up to his chair and stood. "I'm done."
He went up the stairs before Ayumi could speak. She sat rigidly, with fingers gripping the side of the tablecloth. Daichi gave a sigh and rubbed his temple.
You are too hard on him, she whispers.
Daichi's hand stilled. He looked at his miso soup that remained untouched. "...He has to be strong."
Ayumi's eyes softened, glassy. "He doesn't need strong. He needs us."
Ryuzi was lying in his bed staring at the ceiling upstairs. He thrust in his earphones, playing the music loudly, overpowering the silence. The same thought was returning bitterly in him as he stood in the pit of his chest: They do not love me. They just want me to behave.
What he did not hear was that Ayumi was lingering at his door, her hand trembling a mere few inches away on the verge of knocking, and whispering so low it was absorbed in the wood--
"We love you, Ryuzi. I wish you could see it."