Chapter 17: Fallen Angel
Kiyoshi's body ached the following days. The President had stopped their otherwise endless soccer match and sent Kiyoshi home in a paid taxi after reprimanding and punching Kensou in the face. However, despite the pain, Kiyoshi's mother ordered him to attend school the following Monday. His bento wasn't enough for his sore joints, so he bought some leftovers after the initial lunch break wave during and ebbed in and out of the rest of the lectures.
Kiyoshi admitted his obedience was frustrating him, unable to prevent his feet from climbing the stairs to the student council room. It was unlikely there was extra work after such a big event. On the contrary, he believed the president would give them the day off. And Kensou would choke the information out of him.
His feet froze and he timidly turned around. Why the hell am going? I'm going to get killed.
"Ah, Ryuugamine-kun! Hello!" Kiyoshi flinched at the unknown female voice and turned around. Her rosy face and shapely figure were vaguely familiar. "Are you going to the council room?" she asked, promptly stopping a polite distance away.
"Uh, um. . . I think so?" He frowned pensively, facing away from her direction. She had to be from the student council.
"That's really nice of you," she said cheerily. "Not that you have to, transfer student and everything. Well, I have to study for some tests, so I'll be going. Bye bye~"
Kiyoshi had lifted his eyes and addressed her before she left. "Um, can we not go if we have upcoming tests?"
She stood struck for a moment, Kiyoshi's eyes meeting hers. He clutched his string bag tightly and swiftly lowered his head. "Yeah," she replied, "if you have a legit reason, you don't have to go." Her eyes seemed to linger on Kiyoshi for a moment but soon looked away and waved. Kiyoshi nodded curtly.
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Sprawled on a wooden table in the corner of the school library, Kiyoshi convinced himself to stay away from the student council room for a while. Kensou would drag him if they needed him, uhn uhn. More importantly, he had to think about his next move. He pulled out a notebook, skimmed for a distant blank page, and began to scribble his thoughts so far. Then, a list of the people he could talk to. His most realistic chance so far was Akasaka.
"Three onigiris worked pretty well," Kiyoshi whispered, flickering the clip of the mechanical pencil with his fingernail. "It might be difficult to cook something more elaborate but I want to know what happened to Tatsumaki Hideyoshi." This favor might also serve for another of Akasaka's articles, depending on her findings.
"Why do I have a feeling he has passed away?" Kiyoshi grimly asked himself, pushing the clip with more strength. "They couldn't tell us. . . because we are kids? I don't get it," he whispered. "They'll suspect me if I ask alone."
Snap! A loud ringtone surprised Kiyoshi, jerking the whole library awake. Eyes were on him at the second ring, and he ultimately realized it was his own, vibrating phone. He dove between the shelves, slipped the device out, and answered the call. "U-um, hello," he spoke low.
"It's Kidou. I read your report." Kiyoshi held back a squeal. Kidou-san hardly called him. They had exchanged professional text messages here and there about Kiyoshi's findings, that was all. He listened in to learn Kidou-san's reason for the call. "Can you meet right now? I will send you the new directions." Kiyoshi replied affirmatively, packed his things, and hurried out of the library, eyes evading all curious gazes.
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About an hour and a half later, Kiyoshi reached an elegant cafe. It was furnished with earthy tones, wooden furniture, and dim lights; a soft saxo hummed in the back. An adult cafe, a place Kidou-san would like for its privacy. And just like Kidou-san wrote in the e-mail, he was sitting near the back of the benches separated by floor to ceiling partitions. It reminded Kiyoshi of a place a cheating wife would meet up another man. It was impossible to see the customer until peering in if there was somebody there at all; the clatter of the plates drowned any distinct chatter.
Kiyoshi's admiration for Kidou-san only grew.
"Sorry for changing the usual meeting place," Kidou-san began with an apology. "The Commander has visitors, so the back entrance is unavailable."
Kiyoshi was about to ask what kind of visitors but remembered a much more pressing reply. "Um, congratulations on advancing to the finals!" He smiled, taking a seat. His spine jolted as his rear plunged on the soft cushion and he chocked a moan. Kiyoshi pressed his lips tight. Even the seats were of fine quality.
"Teikoku will face Mikage after they win against Tengawara." A cold rush of water seemed to fall on Kiyoshi as he heard that last name. "With Sugimori as the new keeper, it's unlikely they will score a goal."
He smiled tightly and Kidou-san smoothly carried on the conversation, getting into the business. "If the student council president is guarding the manual, how are you planning to get hold of it?" Kiyoshi brushed his hand against his bangs, careful on the white hair clips he was so fond of.
"I'm focusing on finding more about Tatsumaki Hideyoshi--"
"Why?" Kidou-san interrupted.
"Uh, um. . ." Kiyoshi looked down. "I'm interested. And he created Back Tornado so. . ."
"Sumire is the manager of the soccer club. She can easily obtain if she asks." His eyebrows knitted. "And now Gouenji is supporting her, right?"
"Ye-yes but--" Kiyoshi clawed the edge of the table, gaze unable to settle. "But it won't be easy for them either. . ."
"Why?" he questioned. Kiyoshi opened his mouth, about to say the president most likely learned Sumire was a spy as well but his instincts kicked in, hissing to shut up and think. ". . . I wrote the soccer team had to prove itself to obtain the manual, didn't I?" Kiyoshi spoke slowly and carefully. "It's that."
Kidou-san replied a few seconds later. "I understand. And why weren't you able to get the manual when he was away?"
Kiyoshi took his time to reflect on a reply, staring at the wooden table. "I was under observation. I was rarely alone in the room."
The person Kiyoshi admired peered at him through his googles for a few moments. When he nodded, lax shoulders hinted Kiyoshi he could relax as well. "You haven't used your contact, have you?" Kiyoshi stared in confusion before the meaning stroke, then shook his head in denial. "An adult can reach further than a student. And if said event happened during the younger sibling's middle school or high school, he will know."
"Ah, that's very helpful." Kiyoshi smiled sheepishly and bowed. "Thank you, Kidou-san. . . Um." He twirled his thumbs, blood rushing to his cheeks. "Thank you for your help so far. I appreciate it a lot."
"Don't mention it," Kidou-san said, staring at the wall, unsaid words were better left as such.
Like every other action, Kiyoshi hesitated to carry on his bento plan but Kidou-san had been a helpful ally, leaning to the neutral side of course. Sumire could have Gouenji-kun, at least let him have his idol.
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Approaching his assigned contact was harder than Kiyoshi imagined it would be. Sakamoto-sensei was young--like a sociable teacher fresh out of college. Naturally, he was popular among the girls in Kiyoshi's class, chirping about popular artists and celebrities with him. The faculty office was no good either--other teachers were at hearing distance. So like a love-struck maiden, Kiyoshi was left staring longingly at his homeroom teacher for a full day.
The next day, he ate lunch in the usual place in a foul mood--two days without results were a blow on his self-esteem.
"I really can't do anything alone." A soft mewl replied his self-deprecating words. He smiled gently as the snow-white kitty approached. "At least I made friends with you guys." He scratched the kitty's head and chin at the same time. Three cats frequented the school, if not lived there. They were lively and affectionate. Kiyoshi was glad he hadn't seen others play with them.
The kitty tensed in attention, gazing intently at Kiyoshi's right. His body perked up when he heard the sound of feet crushing grass.
"Please don't tell me the most popular and smartest student on the grade eats their lunch alone near the bushes," a male voice sang. Kiyoshi relaxed when he recognized those pristine shaved cheeks and styled dark hair.
"Sakamoto-sensei," he greeted politely, looking up at the approaching figure. The man put a hand on his hip and sighed wistfully.
"Kageyama-san told me you were a little strange but I didn't think you were the type to eat with animals," he massaged the bridge of his nose, lifting a thin pair of glasses Kiyoshi was sure were fake.
"They are good company," Kiyoshi simply replied, another kitty joining their unusual group. "Um. . . why are you here?"
"Why, of course because I noticed a troubled student was begging for my attention." Sakamoto-sense stuck his chest out before dramatically deflating, disappointed gaze setting upon Kiyoshi. "I thought it was about your situation in the class. . ." he glanced warily between Kiyoshi and his furry companions, "but I may be wrong."
Kiyoshi had no idea what he meant by 'situation' so he proceeded to ask his favor. The dedicated teacher was willing to help and didn't make unnecessary small talk afterward. He concluded why Sakamoto-sensei was popular: he quickly grasped a student's personality and adjusted his treatment accordingly. Put differently, he could read the mood.
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His homeroom teacher briefed about the person Kiyoshi was about to meet but as he climbed the stairs to the rooftop, the discomfort didn't ease the slightest. A stout man was gazing down the railing at the left, outfit matching his old age. He was the only person on the otherwise empty space. But what gripped Kiyoshi's attention was the vast sky that loomed over them.
He covered his mouth and turned away in troubled disgust, staring at the teacher. "S-sa-kaki-sensei. . .?" Kiyoshi called meekly, fingers trembling as he closed the door behind him.
"Sakamoto-kun told me you wanted to know about Tatsumaki Hideyoshi," he spoke in a raspy, but weary voice. "Sakaki Isao-sensei, first-year math teacher for twelve years," his homeroom teacher told him. "He's harsh toward students but I doubt he'll chew you with your grades."
"Don't worry," he ended with. Being reprimanded was the least of Kiyoshi's worries. The sky was gazing down, judging, mocking. He lowered his head in an effort to hide behind his blonde hair.
A sharp click of the tongue snapped Kiyoshi out of his thoughts. "Kids these days have no manners," the teacher gruffed. Kiyoshi apologized quietly and replied to his previous statement, introducing himself in a stuttering mess. The teacher waved dismissively, saying his coworker already told him.
Kiyoshi tilted his head, but the teacher merely said he could stay by the door if he wanted. For that, Kiyoshi thanked him. He wished he had his cap right now.
The teacher stared back at the world beside them. "I didn't think anyone would be interested to ask about Tatsumaki Hideyoshi," he began, soft like a cloud.
"They are siblings. . ." was all Kiyoshi could reply.
"I'm sure there is something you want to get from being Kageyama's spy."
"I want to get into the soccer team and become a pro," he replied promptly.
The teacher nodded in satisfaction and looked away. "The Tatsumaki siblings were obsessed with soccer. I didn't teach the twins, but the youngest." His eyes became hazy as if trying to recall the past, "Hideyoshi didn't show his passion like his siblings. He was laid-back and use that to cover his talents."
Kiyoshi grimaced at this biased spoken memory, mind focused on his goal, patiently.
The teacher continued with the same solemn, monologue-like tone. "He valued his family. He didn't wish for anything else but to be with his brothers," he paused, "and his family's happiness."
The teacher stood in silence for a while. Enough for Kiyoshi to succumb to impatience, "What happened?" he asked quietly.
After a deafening silence, the man resumed as if nothing had happened. "After their father's business bankrupted, their family fell in deep debt." He turned to Kiyoshi, eyes impassive. "Did you know the Football Frontier offers prize money to the winning school?"
Kiyoshi shook his head. "They wanted it?"
The senior teacher broke eye contact. "They made an agreement with the school director to receive part of the prize money if they won." The tournament was directly sponsored by the Prime Minister. Kiyoshi gaped at the amount; he could pay three years in Teikoku without financial help.
"It was a severe blow when they lost against Senbayama," the teacher said. "It became the motivation behind Tornado Legend." Kiyoshi wanted to ask why he knew a detail so specific and personal but decided to hold onto it for the end. The teacher seemed to be building momentum, keeping quiet. But when Kiyoshi leaned to the side, the subtle twitches on his face seemed to say he was having a hard time pushing out the next words.
"That year. . ." he resumed slowly before sighing. "Kageyama approached Hideyoshi with a deal, getting rid of his father's debt in exchange for the three manuals." He stopped, taking another moment. "Hideyoshi accepted and carried it out."
"But he never told his family," the gruff voice cracked. The teacher inhaled. "At least. . . that was his initial intention."
Kiyoshi tried to recall the twin's expressions, unable to discern what they knew despite this new information. "How do you know all of this?" he chose to ask, flinching as the teacher narrowed his gaze. Kiyoshi quickly apologized but the teacher shook his head again.
"The boy told me himself." He snorted, shrugging his shoulders. His voice became thin, joking; the man was trying to fake it. "Kageyama sure has a morbid sense of humor, making a traitor of a teacher in charge of delivering their student's work and passion. He seemed like he was about to piss his pants, the poor boy. . ." A pause. "I would have been relieved, knowing there were other people as terrible as me." The teacher's face hardened. "But Hideyoshi couldn't live with the fact he had betrayed his brothers. About half a year later. . . he. . . committed suicide."
Kiyoshi didn't register the pain when his butt hit the floor, staring at the teacher incredulously. "He's. . . dead?"
A flicker of wings pierced the silence, introducing sound back to the closed off-world. First, Kiyoshi noticed the indistinct sounds of chatter, his peers enjoying their youth. It made the stillnesss moment seem like they were trapped an island, banished from the ordinary world.
A kid my age killed himself. Kiyoshi lifted his gaze to the soaring birds out of the corner of his red glasses. Wings, soccer is one of my wings. Hideyoshi lost it and believed he also lost family's love.
He's a fallen angel. Will I become one too?
Fallen Angel | End