Like Silent

A quiet high school boy going to cram school. Just one of the crowd. Is he the only one who knows his existence?

 

[Uniquely alone in a million]

I'm never really quite sure that I exist.

 

You can have a name, a gender, a birthdate, but in the end you have to rely on others to give substance to your existence. If no one notices you at all, then you must not exist. What proof is there, since no one acknowledges your existence? On the other hand, if people just see you as a classmate, a neighbor, a friend, etc., instead of a name or a feeling, you can have a borderline existence. When somebody tacks 'a' before a noun, and always refers to you by that combination, you're anonymous. It makes you wonder if you're unique or special, liked or even tolerated. Forget being hated or loved. If you're an 'a+noun' no one has the interest to feel something that intense about you.

 

Then comes the part where people do call you by your name, but they don't sound happy or content while doing so. Maybe they're too polite to call you 'a+noun', and since you've got a name they might as well use it, or else one wouldn't know who exactly they were referring to. They might smile when they say your name, but it could be an automatic smile, taught to them by well-mannered parents and society, at the threat of being disliked. Some people don't care if they're liked or not, so long as no one hates them.

 

So do I exist? I've been called a friend, a kid, and that guy who's always going around with his ear phones on, listening to a music player as if nonstop. People find that last part funny, so their smiles are genuine when they allude to me but only because they find me weird and not in a bad way. They're not particularly glad that I exist, or something along those lines. I'm also that guy who's always reading a book, which people seem to find strange. (Maybe what's strange is that they don't read books.) I have a name, and they know that, but it's only used when they're specifically referring to me. I'm not the only guy, teenager, son, or student out there in the world.

 

Maybe uniqueness is what doesn't exist after all. Why then make such a big deal about each person having something special about them, if we're all the same in the end?

 

Do I exist? I want to know, just a little bit. It's not that I particularly need to know, but sometimes I find myself wondering. Watching a movie, reading a book, seeing people in real life, it all makes me wonder if I exist, because I'm not like them. There's no one special to me. I'm not one half of a couple. I care about my family and the friends I have at school, but I'm perfectly fine being by myself, doing things by myself. Sometimes I deliberately make an excuse to get out of a social gather-ing, sometimes without even pausing to think about it beforehand. I'm fine by myself.

 

If I have no one to acknowledge me, and find me special to them, do I then not exist?

[Aimlessly drifting around again]

If only I had done it, there would be no regrets.

 

Back when I first started high school I started to notice that I was way behind the other kids. They'd always be talking excitedly about the usual things"singers, clothes, guys (or girls, if one was a guy), school"but sooner or later they'd move on to something more serious: their talents and futures. It'd all start with an interest that they had, cooking for example, and they'd end up saying that they want to be a chef or a plain but happy restaurant cook. That interest/future plan was enough of a hobby for that person to do it often, almost every day, and whether consciously or unconsciously turn it into a skill and talent. I had no such thing. You can't exactly make a living off reading mystery books or taking walks, much less have it as a talent that you can hone into a skill.

 

There were other things I was interested in. I like videogames, writing, doodling in my note-books, and songs that actually roused emotions in you and that was the reason you liked it, not how good-looking the singer was. The problem is that I'm not interested in any of them enough to put some serious work, knowledge, and research into it. None of those things was enough of a hobby to put enthusiasm into, mainly because I barely had to spend any energy at all doing it. I guess that by nature I'm lazy. At the very least, I was definitely procrastinating. My schoolwork will attest to that.

 

The reason that I worry about my lack of a future is because I have a lack of skill, and the reason I have a lack of skill is because I have a lack of enthusiasm and a sense of satisfaction via hard work. If only I just put a little work and concentration into something all my problems would be solved. There would be no worries. I wouldn't be looking back on things and wishing that things had been somehow different for me.

 

It's the same with everything else. If only I had tried to overcome a natural shyness, manuveur into situations that didn't spark my temper and get me tongue-tied, and do things that I'd never regret or embarrass myself with, then those things wouldn't bother me. Life wouldn't be too bad if only I didn't have regrets, but the only reason a person would have regrets is because they could've done something about it, and didn't.

 

My grades, my future, my looks, my temper, and my ever changing sense of self esteem. They're all things that I could have worked on and made better, but I didn't. I could have, but I didn't, and some things you can never pick up and start working on again. Worse than that is when the word 'didn't' changes to 'don't'.

If only I'd done it, if only I would, I'd have no regrets to push me down.

[Turning away and turning back again]

 

 

I want somebody to care about.

 

Every now and then I say 'somebody love me', yearning, but always in someone else's voice, as someone else. It's only when I'm daydreaming and playing out a character's part that I ever say those words. If it were just me, the real me, I would never say something like that because I don't particularly need anyone to love me. I'm fine without anyone to go out with, friends or lovers. No one believes me when I say 'I don't mind not being in love', they'd just say I was in denial, smile, and grin as if they know the truth better than I do and they always will.

 

Whatever.

 

I don't want a two-way love. I just...want something, someone, to care about. Whether it's love or friendship, it doesn't matter to me. I just want to know what it's like to be close with someone, close enough to be the person that they run to or depend on in times of trouble. I guess I want to feel that I'm strong and needed. It doesn't have to be love, or friendship, in particular. To be close enough with someone so that silence becomes comfortable, that's all. Love, friends, business, whatever. I don't need any one of them particuarly.

 

No matter what anyone says.

 

I'm thinking of getting a dog when I'm older, either when I'm in college or out of it. I'll get a puppy, so that it won't grow old and die while I'm still young and have got eternity in front of me. (Nobody but teenagers seem to think that way, for some reason.) About that, I guess I'm afraid of living without the person I care about the most. I don't want to meet someone, become close with someone, and then be alive while they're dead and forever gone. Dogs, having shorter life spans, will do that to you, and so will people and tragedy. When you're in a time of your life feeling that you want something to hold, it's not exactly encouraging to have that someone die when you're still young. You start looking at eternity alone, with nothing but a memory more painful than good, because it was good.

Occasionally I get confused. Do I want somebody to care about me or not? I've pretty much accepted that I'm nothing special, and I've got nothing to make myself special. I'm not smart, athletic, skilled, clever, patient, handsome, etc. Luckily, I know that enough to keep my hopes from leaping up way too high (and then making the fall much, much worse), but not enough so that I start going suicidal. I hate sharp blades and needles anyway. It's a kid thing I never got rid of.

 

Of course, I'm only sixteen. Still a kid now. Still got plenty of chances and time to find someone or something that I can care about. Too bad I'll always feel that time's running out.

 

 

[Feeling a ripple in the glass]

Things begin when things change.

 

For me, I didn't even feel it change. Much. But I did know that something had started that afternoon. That's when I stopped self-analyzing and letting my mind drift off into the clouds...like a cloud. ...Just thinking about it makes my head go fuzzy...

 

Well, anyway, things started to clear up and become detailed, like a story, the day we of cram school got locked out of our respective classrooms. The teachers took a long time running off to find a key. (They were almost frantic.) So, being a creature of habit and comfort, I started to put on my ear phones to start listening to my music player again. Already my mind was drifting off to some parallel world, where I was the unknown director in a youth drama taking place halfway across the world. At that time I thought, how amazing it is, that I can flesh out an entire tragedy in my head within minutes, but it's so hard to put down on paper.

 

“ Um, you're in the same class as I am, aren't you?”

 

'Aren't you'. Those two words are enough to make anyone feel gratified, because then they feel that they've been worthy enough to be noticed by someone. Therefore, by means of logic, they are just a little more special than they thought they were. In my case, I was just surprised. Some guy I didn't know appeared before me and talked. To me. Some guy I didn't know. Looking back from now, it's sort of sad because by then I'd been attending that cram school for over a month and yet I didn't recognize anyone else. At all.

 

That guy was...strange yet not strange. From a girl's point of view he was the type of person to be really popular and to be found that it was true. He was a contrast to me, almost a stark contrast. Longish hair (that made me think of a rabbit-elf-person for some reason...) dyed a pale fluffy brown-orange-yellow, soft face, easy grin, two inches or so shorter than I was, and a personality that was actually timid underneath that free-flowing talk.

 

He was also, as I soon found out, an idiot. Somewhere along the way starting from our awkward introductions, he started talking about going to another world in the same way a bus driver would talk about going to his bus to drive it. Being enclosed in a world compromised only of my mystery books and my music player, I didn't know anything so I never had anything to say.

 

Not that he cared whether I did or not. He just went on talking, about lots of things. I don't think it mattered to him if anyone was really listening, though I'd be surprised if they did. (Another world?)

 

He was Takizawa Yuzuru, the change.

[Wanting the voice of the wind]

 

It hurt because I wanted it.

 

Takizawa wasn't at all like me. When he acted on impulse he threw himself into it, as evidenced by the way he stopped dead in the middle of a story, ran out of the classroom, and brought back cups of pudding from the nearby convenience store, all because he felt like it. As weird as it was, I didn't complain. (The pudding wasn't that bad.) Along with that impulsive side of him, he was impossible to get mad, impossible to get away from, and impossible to get into a logical sense of thought. I soon learned to just let Takizawa go along his own pace in his own world, making himself happy.

 

I envied that ability of his. I envied a lot of things about Takizawa, mainly how content and cheerful he was with the world. He may not know what he could do with his future either, but whatever came he'd take without worries. And I worried all the time. I wasn't miserable, but then I wasn't happy either. There are a lot of things that would make me happy, but never just one of them. I envied Takizawa for being so easily contented.

 

It hurt because I wanted it, that ability to be happy. I wanted that feeling of happiness so much, I saw my own face inside my head, scrunching up with misery. Despite the fact that I was missing nothing"family, friends, ordinary life"I was, almost desperately, unhappy.

 

Nobody would believe me, but I didn't like how I was envying others because it felt like the wrong thing to do, and I tried to push it out of my head. I went, as I always did, into my books and my music player. As if he didn't notice, Takizawa went on talking and rolling through his stories. There were times when I hinted that I wanted to be alone, other times I was too adsorbed in a book or whatever I was doing to notice him. I usually looked up when he laughed, to see what was so funny, briefly wondered if he'd been struck that way by his own story, what that might be, and then forgot all about it.

 

Takizawa was annoying sometimes. He kept prodding at me to respond in some way, say a word or look like I was paying full attention, ask the right question or answer his. I felt like he was trying to play me like a puppet, so I would breathe hard through my nose, just once, and glare, to make it clear that I was irritated, and turn away. Funny. He didn't mad when I did. He looked disappointed. Or maybe I imagined it. No sooner did I come close to looking again was he back at his old tricks.

 

It hurt because I wanted something that I couldn't really describe. It was one of those things that you don't know what it is until you've got it, or until it's about to leave you forever, no second chances. Things got to the point where, sometimes, I couldn't breathe right. Other times"and this might be weirdest of all"I was at peace with the world, because I yearned.

 

 

 

[Wondering at the light]

I'm always amazed when little things make me happy.

 

The first time I met Takizawa outside of cram school I was heading for it. I'd gotten out of class early because it had been a study period, and I thought that this was my chance to grab something to eat now instead of waiting until I got home later that evening. I could never find enough food to pig out on except at home, and being able to munch on something all the time was comforting.

 

“ Hey, Takizawa-kun! Let's go to karaokee!”

“ Hey, I told you guys that I have cram school.”

“ But didn't you say that your mom said you didn't have to go anymore?”

 

I envied"that irritating word and feeling again"those who were always being invited to go to places in groups. It showed how much they were wanted, how enjoyable their presence was to others. They made people happy just by being there. I tried to sigh, but there was a cold ham and cheese sandwich in my mouth, and the taste of cheese was enough to make me try to sigh, in contentment rather than bitter acceptance. Nothing makes me happier than nacho chips and melted cheese, or just the cheese. That's why I can relate to mice whenever they go crazy over a block of the stuff.

 

“ Yumeka!”

 

He'd spotted me. Damn cheese. I'd been busy savoring the taste and staring off into space when I should've been making my getaway. Amazingly enough, I'd been walking the entire time and I hadn't bumped into anyone.

 

“ Yumeka!” He wasn't too far away when he said blankly, “ Cheese?” It was dangling from my mouth like a rubbery handkerchief. There had been no accident where I'd eaten the bread, ham, and lettuce first so that I could savor what was left.

 

Takizawa suddenly laughed.

 

“ You're always eating cheese,” he said. (Not always...) “ Do you like it that much?”

 

“ ...Yeah.” I try my best to be honest. It's actually a really hard thing to do.

 

“ Hey, Takizawa-kun! Who is this guy?”

“ Huh? Oh, this is Yumeka, from my cram school"”

 

A girl shrieked with laughter. “ He looks so stupid with that thing hanging from his mouth!”

 

The words, of course, stung. But within seconds I didn't care. What did it matter anyway? I was more surprised that those words hadn't hurt as much because I was still eating that cheese. Whoever said that eating makes a person happy was right.

 

[Listlessly waiting for the clouds to pass]

 

 

 

I can only answer the right question.

 

“ Hey, Yumeka,” said Takizawa. We were on break from classes, and I was fishing around my bag for an apple-flavored lollipop that I badly needed. “ Are you always in a world different from that of everybody else?”

 

“ Yeah.” Damn. All there was left was a green and white wrapper with tiny red print spelling out the candy's name and maker. Finally I remembered giving into temptation earlier during lunch at school. I sighed.

 

“ Why?”

 

“ I like it.” The trouble with me is that when I look forward to something I look forward to it. Whether it's a lollipop or acceptance into a university, I become ridiculously brokenhearted when I fail to get what I'd been expecting all day.

 

“ I wanna go there.”

“ Where?”

“ To your world.”

“ Why?”

 

“ You're in there all the time. And if you're in there all the time, it must mean that you like it. Plus I'm just curious. What the heck goes on in that head of yours?”

 

“ Don't you like your world?” I felt like I was suffering from candy withdrawal.

 

“ Mmm...I don't know. I just know for sure that I want to go into your world. See what it's like.”

 

“ Don't bother me.”

 

Takizawa was actually quiet for a while. Then he asked, “ Am I intruding?”

 

“ On what?”

“ Your world.”

“ No.”

“ Then why can't I go in it?”

 

Class was about to start again. I looked out the window and almost sighed again. How long could I go before I finally forgot about that lollipop?

 

“ Yumeka?”

“ Because it isn't mine.”

 

I never thought about my answers. I only knew that they were the right ones.

 

[Here with one other]

 

 

 

I'm here in this world.

 

“ Hey, Yumeka, don't I bother you? Everybody says that I tend to do that without knowing.”

 

I was trying to read a book. It was some sort of suspense thriller than I'd found while going through my parents' little collection, put together from what they'd had during their college days. Takizawa was perched on the wall I was leaning against.

 

“ Mmm.”

 

“ Yumeka,” he persisted.

“ You annoy me,” I said.

 

“ Is that why you're ignoring me?”

“ That's impossible.”

“ To ignore me?”

“ Yeah.”

“ That the only reason?”

 

I closed my book. “ You don't bother me,” I said. “ You just annoy me.”

“ What's the difference?”

 

For some reason I laughed a little. I pushed off the wall and headed back for the cram school building. Takizawa hopped off the wall to run after me.

 

“ Hey, Yumeka, what happens in your world?”

“ Things, I guess.”

“ Like what?”

“ Change.”

 

Change brought on by a guy that insisted on interrupting my reading and drowned out my music player with his stories about going to another world and taking it over, or if he was in a good mood, drawing up a peace contract with aliens from Mars. I didn't know what the change was, exactly, but I didn't mind it. As irritating, annoying, and unpredictable as he was, I don't think that I really minded.

 

“ Hey, Yumeka! I'm gonna invade your world, okay? We'll rage a war of the worlds, like the movie. Then one of us will die 'cause of bacteria.”

 

“ Do what you want, but not now.”

“ Why not now?”

“ I'm hungry.”

 

I'm here in this world. Surely someone will tell me everything's all right.