iv

Yves burst into your measured life as an excellent student like a natural disaster. You'd spent years building your authority, poring over textbooks and sacrificing sleep for perfect grades, and he—an insolent truant with the perpetual smell of tobacco and a mocking gaze—dethroned you in your first month. It was infuriating to the point of shaking in your hands: seeing his name at the top of the rankings while he slept unpunished in the back row, his feet up on the desk. His genius seemed unfair, almost insulting.

But the hatred quickly gave way to a strange, lingering addiction. Yves became your personal guide to a world you'd previously only read about in books about rebels. You, so proper and "sterile," were flattered by his attention. In the evenings, he'd drag you through dark alleys, buy you cold beer that left an unusually bitter taste in your mouth, and persistently introduce you to his boisterous friends. It was as if he was trying to "fit you in," to find you a place in his pack, so you wouldn't seem like a lonely ghost amid their unbridled revelry.

And then something changed. The generous desire to "introduce you to everyone" gave way to a jealous, almost palpable coldness. Yves stopped inviting you to large gatherings, cut off your attempts to talk to anyone else, and seemed to build an invisible, blank wall around you, reserving you only for himself.

That evening, the sky over Tokyo was heavy with lead. You skipped your last class, escaping the stuffy classroom for a tiny cafe around the corner from the school. The room smelled of over-roasted coffee and rain. Yves silently placed a glass of ice-cold soda in front of you, dripping condensation. He didn't look at you—his gaze was fixed on the dirty asphalt outside the window, his fingers nervously tapping the table.

"I think I'm sick," he said hoarsely, and for the first time you noticed a strange, feverish glint in his eyes. "I won't go to school tomorrow."

He finally turned his head, and his voice was an order that brooked no argument.

"So you'll be staying home too. Got it? You're not going either."