Solitude & Shadows - Back To Normal? I

"Please come to school today"

When Matsune had left that same morning, those were her parting words to Ariyama.

Come to school today? What kind of request was that? Surely she didn't expect him to return to school so soon after witnessing such events…

But in retrospect, it had been three weeks already. And he heard about it being good to try to return to normal after harrowing events like that. Apparently staying away from regular things like school only resulted in further feelings of isolation.

But obviously, he was long past making that decision. And now, he was starting to feel the effects.

It was now around half-past six in the morning, and Ariyama had a choice. He could stay coiled up in his warm futon for the next few hours, until he'd eventually get hungry or need the bathroom. Or he could get dressed like he used to and take the trip to Sasura Academy.

What would he do?

On the one hand, he didn't want to deal with school work and the constant hassle of dealing with his classmates.

But now that Takemichi and Yaranagi were gone, there'd be two empty seats in his classroom. Would they bring in transfer students? Had they already done so? Ariyama felt like that was spitting on their graves, though, by just quickly replacing them with random outsiders.

Then again, he wasn't sure if they had done that yet, so he didn't want to make any preconceptions. He wasn't even sure if he would end up going back to school in the first place.

But out of everything Matsune had told him, that was her one final request? Really?

Maybe she had something more important to say to him, something that couldn't be done in his room? Or maybe she just hated the slight stench of vomit and musk that was trapped in the air of his bedroom.

Ariyama grumbled at his indecisiveness and flopped down on his futon, resting his face against the warm pillow. As the air outside was getting chillier, he was appreciating the small things – like a warm bed – more and more.

Maybe that was good for him. After all, he wasn't exactly appreciating himself right now.

But no, enough dilly-dallying, he had to make a decision. Checking the time, it read 7:04.

Had he really been contemplating for that long? Usually he'd be out of the house by eight at the latest. If he were to go back, he wanted to go back to his regular routine.

He would wake up, wash himself, get dressed, have breakfast and head out. If he had time, he would go to his training room and practice his swordsmanship. But he hadn't gone into that room since that day either, so he didn't feel like going in there today.

Ariyama felt an ache in his chest as he imagined what the others in the school would stay to him.

"Why are you back here?"

"Hey, aren't you the guy who got four people killed?"

"When was the last time you took a shower?"

"What makes you think we want you back?"

"Once known for money, always known for money, eh?"

That last one made Ariyama's stomach twist. Obviously, he couldn't know about him being the cause for everything that happened, but what would they think of him regardless?

He was the kid who was so lucky to be rich, and just so happened to be one of the survivors of this terrible 'incident'. What were the chances of that?

Is that what they'd think? 

Maybe they'd change from only liking him because they wanted to benefit from his money, to hating him for the same reason. Rich, and lucky? Unfair.

Gritting his teeth against the pain in his abdomen, Ariyama smacked his cheeks to motivate himself.

Damn it all to Hell.

Why did it matter?

He didn't give two damns about what people thought of him, not in this moment anyway.

Hell, now he was integrated into a world of swords and magic and monsters, so why would he care about what some highschoolers thought of him?

Anyways, Matsune needed him for something, clearly, so he felt some sort of responsibility to attend school. Even the way Matsune had told him to come back indicated she really only meant for the one day, at the very least.

He could manage one day of school, right?

But had people gotten used to him not being there? Just like Yaranagi and Takemichi and Jack and Yasami not being there either?

As for Matsune, Ariyama wasn't sure if she had continued to attend school, but if he guessed, the answer was likely yes.

Ariyana shook his head and tapped his knuckles against his jaw.

Just shut up and go.

He forced his body to move, to go through the same routine he always had. Even as his limbs protested and were on the verge of shutting down, just to keep him locked in his room, he pressed on.

After washing himself and fumbling to put on his uniform, Ariyama turned his attention to his prayer shrine. If Matsune did want to discuss something about what she told him, maybe it was a good idea to bring 'that'.

Apprehension drowning him, his mind flashing back to the time when he had hidden it under the floorboards, Ariyama bent down to move the shrine away from the wall and reach into the floor.

Feeling the rough handle of the sword, Ariyama hefted its weight – it was more uncomfortable then straight-up heavy – and lifted it out from its hidden spot.

Now that the yellowish morning light was casting a corridor of light through the big circular window to his left, Ariyama could see the specific details of the weathered sword much more then he did when it was doused in darkness.

The chips and dents along its length, the blade that was only half its full length, ending with stripped metal, and the tough rust that coated the whole thing.

It looked ancient and ugly and was uncomfortable to carry, but when he had first unleashed whatever type of power it held within it, he held it like it was a feather's weight. The light had even morphed it so it looked like it was whole again, and brand new too, without a nick or scratch to be seen.

But if he had one good thing to say about its broken from, it was that it was a lot easier to fit in his bag.

Ariyama always prided himself with having a neat and clean uniform everyday. Maybe it did contribute to his notoriety as the rich kid, but that was one thing he wasn't bothered about.

Today, however, his shirt was left wrinkled and his tie slightly loosed. He had many more important things to worry about now than looking neat.

Now that he had his sword tucked safely at the bottom of his bag, Ariyama had just one last thing to do before he set off for his first day at school in weeks.

Heading back to the bathroom, he set his bag down by the sink and leaned over it, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't exactly look completely healthy, with bags under his eyes and his skin a few shades paler than usual, but he looked presentable at least.

That wasn't the case with his hair, however.

A stark contrast against his black hair, that strip of snow white stuck out like a sore thumb. He knew he couldn't go to school looking like be was going grey at seventeen.

He surveyed the cupboard set in the wall to his left, searching for a certain bottle he knew his mother had been using recently.

Black hair dye.

It was fairly convenient that his mother would have something like this, but Ariyama wasn't too concerned over his mother's use of hair products. Even if she was only forty this year, was her hair really going gray? Ariyama hand noticed, but that meant this dye had been clearly doing its job.

Ariyama shook his wandering mind back to the task at hand. He'd never dyed his hair before, but a quick internet search had given him the basics as to how.

Wasting no time, he went about applying the dye. When he was done, he reviewed his work in the mirror. 

It looked passable, even if the black dye he used was a few shades darker than his natural color, which left a patch of darker hair where there was originally a white streak.

As long as it lasted him the day at the very least, it wouldn't matter to him. Happy enough with his work, he quickly cleaned up, keeping an eye on the time. By the time he had finished the clean up, went downstairs and had a quickly put-together breakfast, it was just 7:30.

As he hefted his heavier-than-usual bag, he glanced once more up the stairs.

Would he go say goodbye to his mom?

As far as he knew, she was also holed up in her room. Or was she out shopping at this time? His sense of time had been so disjointed that he had no clue. But he did think of one thing he could do for her.

He quickly grabbed a sticky note and pen, writing a quick note and leaving it stuck to the kitchen counter.

'I'm at school by the time you're reading this. Thank you for looking after me'.

Heating his bag again, Ariyama apprehensively approached the front door. His hand shook, actually shook, as he reached for and opened the doorknob. The familiar wooden creak of the door, the cold breeze of the December morning air wafting in.

Ariyama squared his shoulders and took a deep breath in, paused, and then let it out. 

That made him feel a little better. Not much, though.

Looking up at the sky, Ariyama tried the psyche himself up to take that crucial first step out of the door. The clouds were gray and swirling through the atmosphere, small blasts of yellow light breaking through from the gaps in the gray.

It looked like any other December sky, during any other December day. And for most people around the world, it probably was. Today was probably the day someone got married, as was it the day someone got their first kiss, or confessed to their crush, or went on their first date, or had their first time having–

Ariyama cut his thoughts short so as to not ramble on. He just stared at the sky some more. 

Around the world, people continued to live their lives, but here in Shinkai City, Ariyama was having trouble finding purpose in his.

Unintentionally or not, he had been the reason for the deaths of four of his fellow students, one of which was his best friend in the whole world.

Even at the though of Yaranagi – of his buzzed red hair, or of his piercings or his bestial grin – Ariyama's stomach sank.

"Damn…"

He needed to refrain from even thinking about him, even if it was proving to be nigh-impossible. Gritting his teeth, Ariyama hit the side of his thigh with his fist repeatedly, each strike symbolizing a nail of constraint being hammered into his consciousness, in order to stop thinking about 'him'.

But he knew deep down the only way to move on was to keep going, so Ariyama squeezed the strap of his bag he had over his shoulder, then walked out of his house for the first time in nearly a month, shutting a door behind him and stepping out into the chilly winter air.

His trip from home to school was long and arduous. 

Ariyama's breath misted from his mouth as he trudged through the streets. It was just coming up on rush hour, with more and more vehicles jam-packed in the streets, dropping kids to school or driving off to work for the day. Ariyama suddenly had a thought, envisioning his father driving him to school in some luxury car, actually giving him some bit of fatherly love.

Ariyama physically recoiled at the thought, his boys shivering.

For one thing, his father's lack of support for him was still waging a war in his mind, even when he tried to focus on other things. 

Even when the incident happened, and he had the images of four dead or dying bodies in his head, he always brought it back to his father somehow.

If he hadn't opened the Shrine Gate, they wouldn't have died, but if his father had been with him like a proper parent, maybe he wouldn't have gotten access to that book. And if he hadn't gotten access to that book, he wouldn't have been knowledgeable about the Shrine Gate, meaning no one would've died.

Ariyama knew what he was thinking was idiotic, but he couldn't help it. His father had made him feel so, so bad at many times in his life, Ariyama almost felt obliged to pin the blame on him for everything.

But no matter how much he detested his father, Ariyama knew some things simply were his own fault and no one else's.

Ariyama realized his breath had turned to sharp and wheezing gasps for air as he finally reached halfway up the winding path towards Sasura Academy. There was a student a little ahead of him, tall and blonde, and another a fair bit further back down the hill. Other than that, there weren't any other students in sight. It was almost eight now, so either all the other students were being extra early today, or they all decided to have a collective sleep in.

"Fairly quiet today, eh?"

At the foreign voice, Ariyama jumped in surprise, his heart almost stopping from the sudden noise.

He had been looking to his left, over the railing that overlooked the rest of Sumura. Now his head turned to the right, eyes wide with mouth agape.

Standing right next to him, still tall and still blonde, was that student who had been walking further ahead of him. How had been he suddenly retraced his steps to be standing beside Ariyama in a second or less?

It was almost scary how quickly people could sneak up on someone else, unnoticed.

Noticing how startled Ariyama was, the blonde guy smirked with perfect white teeth. His eyes were a weird shade of reddish-purple, which gleamed in the cold haze of the morning.

"Oh, sorry, buddy. I didn't realize you were so caught up in your own thoughts."

Ariyama was still a little exasperated from the previous jumpscare.

"I… huh…"

"You OK, dude? Anyways, I'm Genichirou Shoei. And you are…?"

Ariyama blew out a breath and looked up at the blonde boy. Ariyama didn't recognise him but he wore the black, white and blue uniform of Sasura Academy. Maybe an exchange student? But wasn't it kinda late in the year for that?

"Um… I'm Ariyama Saato."

"Huh… Wait, Ariyama? As in…"

Oh great, here it comes.

"You wouldn't happen to be the son of Ariyama Gotou, now would you?"

"Yeah, I am..."

Despite his attempts to not be tied to his father anymore, Ariyama didn't bother denying his heritage. He'd done it before, when he first began to despise his wealth, but it only delayed the inevitable. The inevitable being the person he denied it to soon finding out that, no, he actually was the son of Ariyama Gotou, the richest man in Shinkai.

The blonde boy, Genichirou, clapped his hands with glee, a look of delight on his face.

"Well, I'll be! It's not everyday to meet the soon-to-be owner of all assets of the city's richest man, but it is today!"

Genichirou slapped Ariyama on the back as they walked together towards the school.

"So, hey, I'm a transfer student from Kyoto. Don't ask why I transferred. Just know that the guys I beat up – in the scenario where I did beat someone up, because I definitely didn't – deserved it."

"Uh huh. I'll, um, remember that."

As they continued up the winding road, Genichirou glanced down at Ariyama out of the corner of his eye. Ariyama couldn't deny he was one good-looking guy.

"You're the first friend I've made here, and I haven't even gotten to school yet today! Is it my lucky day or what? But as my first friend, I wanna know some stuff about you. So, Saato, tell me about yourself. Favorite color? Favorite animal? Any girlfriend – or dare I say boyfriend – in your life? That kind of stuff."

Ariyama stopped dead and glared at Genichirou, who also stopped a few steps ahead of him, looking back with confusion on his face.

"Don't… Please, don't call me Saato. Only my two best fri–"

He stopped himself, inhaling deeply.

"Only my best friend calls me that. I just… only give permission to people I know care about me because of me and not for any other reason. It's just something I'm specific about."

Realizing he was rambling again, Ariyama fixed Genichirou with a strong stare, as if saying, "That's just how it is".

Luckily, however, Genichirou was in a good mood. He grinned and raised his hands playfully.

"I see, I see. Terribly sorry, 'Ariyama'. Anyways, about that bit of info for me?"

"Hm? OK, right. OK, uh, my favorite color is probably purple. My favorite animal is a hedgehog, and my favorite food is well-done steak with a side of French fries. And no, no girlfriend or boyfriend for me."

Genichirou rubbed his chin intently as he listened to Ariyama's answers, the shine in his eyes showing that he seemed properly interested in what Ariyama had to say. 

It was nice to be able to talk about such casual stuff – even with a guy he'd just met – after the incident. For a moment, just a moment, Ariyama felt his spirits rise a bit, the cloak of depression lifting off him. He knew this was only happening at this very moment. The next time he was alone with his own thoughts, the cloak would return to ensnare him once again.