Special Thanks von abgemeldet ================================================================================ Kapitel 1: ----------- Special Thanks It had stopped raining, finally. Such a rainy summer this year, Teru thought as he stretched and yawned silently, jumping out of the empty truck. The large vehicle had not been moved for months, a thick layer of dust and the missing door had been enough proof for him to just use the dirty and rather cold cab for shelter. The hat was still a bit damp, but he didn’t really care. Taking his bag he looked around, taking in his surroundings in the morning sun. When he had come here last night, he wasn’t sure where his feet had carried him this time. Now he could see he was at a tiny station in the middle of nowhere. A few cars were parked next to the lonesome and warped wooden cabin, across the small parking space he could see some freight waggons. Perfect. Taking a quick glance around, he hurried to cross the poorly paved place, not caring about his shoes as he stepped into a large puddle of cool water. There were two men leaning against the wall of a small barrack, but they didn’t see him as he strode towards one of the trains, the only one wich actually had a locomotive. Carefully, he neared the rosty waggons and tried to open the huge door of the first one, but the lever didn’t even move. He tried again, tried the next one, still no success. “Come on…” No matter how hard he tried, how forcefully he pulled at the metal handle, none of the heavy doors opened. Close to giving up, he climbed up between to of the cars and jumped down on the other side. Maybe the doors on this side would be easier to open. As soon as he jumped down from the high couplingladder, he noticed another man. Tall, slim, clad in a simple pullover and skinny pants. He didn’t look like he had been outside for a long time, his hair was dry and his clothes clean. The stranger noticed him, too, and just stared at him. Teru frowned, why did this guy look so… shocked? The other man’s eyes wandered from Teru’s face to his bag, and he could see the tall man relax. He had obviously thought he was a station staff member of some kind. A sudden noise caught Teru’s attention. The Train was about to leave, the engine roared and a sudden jerk made the heavy and unmoving steel monster come alive. The other man had thrown his baggage, wich looked a lot like a guitar case, into the open waggon in front of him. Teru didn’t hesitate, he ran towards the car the other man had hopped into now and threw his bag in. The train sped up, and he had to run, all the while looking around to see if somebody had noticed him. “Come on, hurry!” For a split second, he was surrised to see the other man offering a hand to help him jump into the waggon. This guy didn’t even know him, yet he wanted to help him? Taking his hand, he used the chain dangling off the lever of the door to pull himself into the car. He wouldn’t have made it without the help of this man, though… “Thanks…” He smiled at the stranger and leaned agains the metal wall behind him, trying to catch his breath. The stranger smiled at him and stood up from his spot near the open door, where he had still been kneeling. He froze when something caught his attention. Teru bend his head, he couldn’t see what had starteled the other man. After a few seconds, the other man stepped aside. In the far corner of the dusty waggon, behind some boxes and a bale of straw, was another person. Teru couldn’t see him very well, he was hidden fairly good. Just as Teru was about to say something, the man in the corner moved and threw a beer can towards him. Teru caught it, more out of reflex. “Thanks…” Said the man who had helped him climb on board and sat down. A few seconds passed, the only sound being the rattling of iron wheels on seldomly used tracks. None of them said a word, they just stared at each other. The man in the corner didn’t move once, exept for lifting his can of beer to take a small sip now and then. “Yeah, thanks…” Teru opened his can, and the other man did so, too, laughing hard. “This is the strangest thing that ever happened to me…I thought nobody but me would be so stupid and crazy to stow away on an empty, smelly freightcar. By the way, my name is Takuro.” “My name is Teru… and thanks again for helping me.” “Don’t mention it.” They smiled and raised their cans of beer, waiting for the third person to say something, to introduce himself. A few seconds passed, before the skinny man took a deep breath and spoke to them, with a quiet and somehow uneasy voice. “I’m… Hisashi…” The faitest hint of a smile accompanied his words, and Teru couldn’t help but grin at him. He liked him, somehow he just liked him at first sight. “Hi… thanks for the beer. Oy, were you going to get plastered on the road to nowhere?” Takuro leaned back and laughed, pointing at a few empty and smashed cans next to Hisashi. Though his eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses and his face stayed frozen in the same emotionless mask he’d been wearing since the first moment, something about Hisashi’s reaction made Teru think Takuro’s assumption was closer to right than he thought. “I guess so.” Somehow this rather strange answer fit perfectly well, and both Takuro and Teru just smiled and nodded. This guy wasn’t much of a talker, obviously. The way he was sitting there, almost invisible and hidden made him look a little lost, not shy or frightened, just… lost. No doubt he had been sitting there for quite a while, probably the whole last night, maybe longer. Leaning his head against the cold wall, Teru stared at the dizzy landscape, rapidly passing by. Endless fields, abandoned streets, a lonely tree from time to time, a lost barn, a small river… Hadn’t he been out there for weeks, strolling through this deserted part of the country, he had been speechless at the sheer beauty. The sun had risen, and for the first time in days, there wasn’t a single cloud in the soft, light blue sky. The air still smelled of rain and soaked earth, a smell Teru loved more than anything else. “You know where this train is going?” Takuros voice broke the semi silence and Teru shook his head. No he had no idea, and he didn’t care at all. “Nope…but who cares, sky’s everywhere the same.” Hisashi didn’t even smile, Takuro laughed out loud at Teru’s answer. He rose his can and took a deep sip. “That’s a great attitude, you’re quite the optimist, aren’t you?” It wasn’t exactly a question, so he just smiled and shrugged. He liked this Takuro-guy, he seemed to be quite nice. Watching the tall man drinking his beer in no time, he caught eye of the black case next to him. Yes, definitely a guitar case. “You’re a musician?” something flickered in Takuro’s eyes at the question, but Teru couldn’t quite grasp it. Takuro’s voice was a bit hesitant as he nodded, raising the can to his lips once again. “Yeah…I’m a guitarist, at the moment at least.” “At the moment?” “I used to just play piano, sometimes I feel like… I don’t know, sometimes I just compose, not touching my guitar for weeks you know.. but I haven’t written anything recently, I’m just a guitarist as it is.” Teru couldn’t help but smile. There was absolutely no question about what this man loved most… the way he talked about music made him feel warm, he knew this kind of devotion all too well. “Twelve or Six?” Takruo frowned and looked at Hisashi, who had stirred a bit at the other man’s outburst. He had raised his head and looked at the dark guitar case, almost appearing the tiniest bit curious. “Strings.” “Ah, well this one’s a six string… I used to have a twelve string, but I had to sell it.” “Must have been hard.” Hisashi got up and sat down on the bale of straw, not really next to the other man but a little bit closer than before. Teru was absolutely sure it took him a lot of courage to come closer, but the topic at hand seemed to be an impressive bait. Takuro smiled at the slim man and opened the case carefully. Even though his eyes were hidden behind dark shades, Teru noticed the whole expression of this quiet man lightened up a bit as he watched intently how Takuro took out his instrument and tuned it. “Hisashi, you’re into music, too?” A slow nodd was his only answer, he just opened another beer can and watched Takuro. Teru bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Hisashi looked like a little kid waiting for his dad to show him how a new toy worked. Takuro seemed to notice the smaller man’s sudden interest, too, and he smiled at him before he started to play. A slow, gentle and light tune fell from vibrating strings, caused by talented fingers to fly through the cool summer air, carried away once it floated through the open door, into the warm and sunny afternoon. “That’s quite good… you wrote this song?” “Not really… I never played it before, actually. I’m just improvising, setting this moment and it’s emotions to music…” Takuro smiled, a little embarassed. He had talked out of the true feelings of his heart before he could think about how tacky this might sound. “Well I… well I just made this up right now. Nothing special.” Hisashi smiled for the first time, nodding slowly. His lips moved, but Teru couldn’t hear what he said. The constant noise of the train on its tracks and Takuro’s gentle music made him mute for Teru’s ears. But he was absolutely sure it had been something like “quite good”. “You can play, too?” The question was directed at Hisashi, but Teru nodded, too. Takuro smiled and turned towards the quiet man a little bit. “Want to play something?” Hisashi shook his head and actually laughed, short and soundless, but from the bottom of his heart, of that Teru was sure. He couldn’t help but smile along. The other man had lost some of the lonely aura around him, he slowly seemed to approach the other two, who came along surprisingly well. Maybe that’s what stowing away on a rotten waggon did to people, they immediately stuck together. Teru was sure that at least this Hisashi person wasn’t quite the social middle-person, but inside this dusty car, things seemed to be different. Things seemed to be warm… Things felt like home. “Sure you don’t want to play?” “Don’t let another man touch your girlfriend.” Takuro stopped playing and roared with laughter, holding his guitar with one hand, using the other to wipe his eyes. “How come you call her my girlfriend? I used to do that, causing my real girlfriend to get jealous every time I played guitar! She even left me because she said I touched this instrument more often than her.” Teru was not too sure if he was right, but for a split second Hisashi seemed to be back in his silent lonelyness, before he smiled softly again. Silence spread between them, Hisashi stared into nothing in particular, his mind and most likely his heart being totally lost in the soft melody of Takuro’s beautiful song. The guitarist sat there, calm and lost in his own thoughts and his tune, full of emotion and memories even Teru could almost touch and feel. It was a thoughtful song, about things that only happened once in your lifetime and you knew it the very same moment it happened. Like now, like this very moment. Three men sitting on a train, destination anywhere, not really knowing each other, yet having an undoubted trust build the very same moment they had exchanged their first words. Teru called them his friends, even though he didn’t know anything about them, and he was sure he’d never forget them or this moment, or this rich song, no matter what was about to happen. And then, something indeed did happen. The train violently came to a halt, the brakes screeching painfully. Teru’s head hit the wall pretty hard, a few cans of beer shot from Hisashi’s corner and rolled through the dirty waggon, Takuro lost his balance and fell flatly onto his butt, something cracked, and the big suitcase next to the door threatened to fall out of the car. Teru caught it in the nick of time, earning a thankful glance from Hisashi. He seemed to prepare to thank him, but froze when he heared a murmured curse from Takuro. Teru turned and looked at the other man, worried that maybe he was hurt. Carefully and mournful, the tall man held the corpse of his instrument in his hands. His guitar was damaged beyond repair. The neck was broken, strings ripped apart. Whoever was responsible for this incident would suffer a painful death if those two would get their hands on him, that much was for sure. Both Hisashi and Takuro looked grim and ready to kill. Before they could make plans how to burn and gut the engineer alive, Takuro noticed something. He crawled closer to the door and frowned. “Smells weird… something’s burning.” He leaned out of the door, Teru was almost afraid he’d slip and fall. “There’s smoke, somewhere in front of the train there must be a fire…” Teru remembered one of those really old Western movies, where the Indians made fire on the tracks to rob the white men’s trains… “Never thought anybody would be so damn stupid to really do such a thing…” Hisashi had obviously read his thoughts. Annoyed like hell, the small man began picking up his beer cans from the dusty floor, wiping them off angrily. “Well, the guy who did that was lucky because the fool who calls himself the engineer of this train was stupid enough to stop. Never heard a few burning branches could hurt a steel locomotive.” Takuro sighed and slumped down next to Teru, leaning against the wall. The sad fragments of his beloved instrument lay beside him. The sight was saddening, somehow crushing. Before a mournful and uneasy silence could spread, hasty steps could be heared. Hisashi leaned agains the wall next to the door, his thin body pressed against the cold metal, a full can of beer still in his hands. Teru wasn’t sure if he was hiding or just waiting to aim the can at whoever would dare to come near the waggon the three of them claimed. Suddenly, a huge duffel bag flew into the car, followed by a young boy who jumped hastily into the freightcar, skillfully helping himself to overcome the distance between the low ground and the rather high sill. He caught sight of Hisashi first, the slim man staring at him menacingly, the can of beer still in his hand. Takuro also stared at him, more reproachful than actually angry. The blonde boy bit his lower lip and took a step back. Teru was sure he was thinking of leaving this car again, none of the three appeared to bid him a warm welcome. A soft jolt made him stumble a bit, the train had started off again. The new boy turned and looked out of the door, probably speed rating and debating if he could risk to just jump off the train. Takuro’s eyes never left him, he was trying his hardest to be mad at this boy, but something prevented him from building up the hate he had felt minutes ago. He just couldn’t claw at the Guitar Killer and act out the vengeance from hell. Hisashi seemed to be unaffected by the innocent and uneasy appearance of this boy though. Just as the newcomer turned around, he threw the can at him. Teru winced, he was sure Hisashi would aim for the poor boy’s nose… But the can was caught safely, be it because of the thrower’s or the catcher’s skill. Teru frowned and tried to read Hisashi’s expression, but the mask of expressionlessness was back into place. The boy lowered his gaze, he didn’t hesitate to open the can. Teru noticed his hands were trembling slightly. A spitting noise broke the angry tension between the four men. The new boy looked down at his sleeve, the beer had splattered out of the opening, shaken too much from the sudden stop of the train. Takuro was the first one to burst out laughing. “Gentlemen, here’s the jester for the ride.” Teru didn’t know if Hisashi’s laughter started before or after this remark, but he was rather sure it hadn’t been there before. The new boy smiled, and then laughed along with them, still staring at his wet sleeve. Once the can had stopped dripping, Hisashi took it from the smiling boy and sat down again, throwing him another can. “This one’s for Teru.” His voice was almost swallowed by the rattling of the train, but the blonde boy just nodded and opened the other can, making even more mess than the first one. He laughed again, and looked at Teru and Takuro, frowning a little bit. “I’m Teru… this guy’s Takuro.” Takuro was still giggling mercilessly, leaning into the corner of the car, wiping his eyes now and then. Teru took the defused beer can and nodded his thanks, but the smiling boy didn’t see it, he had already turned to face Hisashi, expecting the next can for Takuro...or maybe, expecting him to introduce himself? Teru grinned, he could almost feel the annoyed surprise radiating from the quiet man. His thoughts and the twitch of his upper lip practically screamed “what an idiot!”. “What’s your name, sonny?” Opening the next can and getting beer all over his face, the boy laughed and shook his head. “My name is … Jiro.” Takuro didn’t seem to notice the short second of hesistance, being busy with his fresh beer. Hisashi and Teru exchanged a quick glance, no words needed. This guy way hiding something… “Ick, I’m smelling like a drunk.” His laughter killed the natural noises from the rosty wheels of the train, and Teru had to laugh again. This guy was obviously either dumb as hell or just… happy. “Your fault, you were the one who stopped the train, weren’t you?” A short moment of surprise flickered over his face and he stared at Takuro, who had just succeeded in catching his breath again. “How did you know?” Teru smiled. No, he wasn’t dumb, just… cute? Hisashi’s lip twitched again, hadn’t his eyes been hidden by the dark sunglasses, Teru would have taken bets on the other man rolling his eyes at Jiro. Said man sat down in the middle of the waggon, on his duffelbag. Dangerously close to the wide open door, if the train would take a turn too quickly or stop as sudden as just minutes ago, he’d fall out and break his neck… Teru lowered his eyes and took another sip of his beer. He didn’t even know this guy, but something made him feel protective towards him. His boyish nature? His clumsy but cute appearance? “So guys, it’s Teru, Takuro and… what’s your name?” Jiro smiled at Hisashi, but the other man just stared at him, dragging the sudden silence out for some more moments. Teru could tell he was having fun making the blonde guy waiting for an answer. “That would be Hisashi, our beer sponsor.” Takuro put his beer down and stretched, trying to pillow his head on his guitar case. Jiro smiled at him and nodded, turning the still not opened can for himself in his hands. Teru wondered, was this a gesture of nervousness? “Why are you guys here? I mean, it’s strange enough to sneak on a train, but to find three other guys doing just the same is…” “Bad luck.” Hisashi sat down on the floor, next to his suitcase, where he had been sitting when Teru and Takuro first saw him. “I was just about to say something like.. I don’t know, fate.” Jiro shrugged and took a deep breath, still fumbling with the poor beer can. “I ran away from home… had a fight with my dad you know, he wants me to run the family business, but that’s just not my piece of cake. I want to become a photographer, I don’t care for money, I know this isn’t one of the best paid jobs in the world, but it’s what I want to do most. My family just doesn’t accept that, they always tell me to do something more…” “…respectable?” Jiro frowned and looked at Teru, who was smiling back at him, though his eyes held a somewhat dreamy touch. The tiniest hint of sadness lingered there, mixed with the ever so soft and warm expression that just seemed to be purely him. “Yeah… exactly…how…” “Story of my life. I always wanted to become a painter. Just travel through the whole world, portraying people for a little tip, maybe saving enough money to go to Europe. Well, I just did it, somehow I ended up packing my bag and…here I am.” “You want to go to Europe? Why?” Takuro had given up on his quest for a comfortable position and sat up again, leaning a little bit on Teru’s shoulder. It didn’t feel strange, to lean on a person he hardly even knew. “I always wanted to see Rome, I wanted to draw the great buildings, especially the Collusseum.” Takuro nodded and reached out to take the beer from Jiro, opening it carefully. He smiled at the blonde and took a sip before he returned the now open can to him. “Seems like we’re a bunch of poor artists, then. I just got kicked out of my band.” “Why? You’re not good enough?” Hisashi again tried to kill Jiro with his trademark deathglare. He had listened to Takuro’s song just once, but he knew this man was more than skilled. “No… the others wanted to change genre, going into Visual Kei. They kicked me because I’m not handsome or pretty enough…We had a fight on the way to rehearsal, I just left the car when they told me this would be my last practise session with them… I didn’t know what to do so I climbed into a dusty, smelly freight car. Not that different from the lousy garage we called our studio, by the way.” The three of them laughed hard, exchanging looks of sympathy and something already smelling like friendship. Hisashi didn’t even smile, he stared into nothingness and gulped down his beer in a haste. Teru couldn’t help, somehow this looked strangely unfitting, this small and fragile appearing man gulping down his drink like an alcohol addict. Jiro took the tiniest sip and carefully turned so he could look at Hisashi. Teru could tell he was smiling at the calm man, expecting him to tell his story, too. But he didn’t, rejecting another try to establish a friendly relationship with him. Teru sighed and looked at Hisashi. “Ne Hisashi, what’s your reason to be here?” Somehow it felt strange, the first few hours had passed without any of them asking, and now this blonde jester showed up and all of the sudden it seemed to be important to know their backgrounds. Or was it just the sudden seriousness of their topic to feel strange? Suddenly, the conversation felt as if it actually mattered. “Nothing close to your oh-so touching stories of domestical violence and unfulfilled dreams.” Jiro shiftet slightly, he seemed to have noticed the sad spark among those harsh and sarcasm drenched words. He wasn’t just the jester, in fact he seemed to be really observative and sensitive. “What happened?” His voice was quiet and worried, reflecting Teru’s own thoughts perfectly. Takuro turned his head slightly, his hair tickling Teru’s cheek. Three pairs of eyes rested on the slim figure crouched in the far corner, drinking his beer and hiding behind dark shades. He didn’t respond, and Teru was sure he never would. “Hisa? What happened?” There it was again, the twitch of his upper lip. Teru winced, he half expected Hisashi, or Hisa, as Jiro had just nicknamed him, to throw his can at Jiro to knock him out of the waggon. But he didn’t. He ran a hand through his hair and tucked a strand behind his ear, showing his delicate and fine features for the firs time. Teru had thought of him as handsome, but right now, he corrected himself. This man was beautiful. “I got dumped.” Silence spread again, at first uneasy and full of pity. Jiro stared down at his hands, his lower lip being tortured by his front teeth. He seemed to regret having asked this question, for it obviously hurt the other man to talk about it. Takuro gave up his comfy position and got up, sitting down on the straw sofa once again, closer to Hisashi than before. Teru’s eyes were glued to the expressionless face of the smaller man, curious what he’d do or say next. The three of them had silently offered different kinds of comfort, now it was up to him to accept it or not. He chose to raise his head and return Teru’s reassuring look, even his soft smile. “Nevermind.” A soft nod and another deep gulp of beer, and the eerie silence was over. Jiro had spotted the sad remains of Takuro’s guitar. “Wee, why did you smash your guitar, Takuro?” “I didn’t, you did.” “Eeh?” “The beer cans weren’t the only things flying around in here thanks to your act of sabotage you know?” Guilt swept over the bouncy man’s face and he again sunk his front teeth into his poor lower lip. Teru briefly wondered if his lips were always puffy or if they were swollen from the biting assault. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to…really.” “I know. Nevermind, maybe it’s for the best. I lost my band, now I lose my guitar. Time for something new, right? Like… getting a new girlfriend since she cheated on me.” His look was directed to Hisashi, and the other man aknowledged it with a somewhat bitter yet warm smile. It was just then, that Teru realized the four of them had so much in common. Two were dumped by what they loved most. Three were obsessed with art. Two were loving music. Two never felt the assuring support of their families. Three were prepared for this journey. Two were… wearing sunglasses. There seemed to be a deep abyss between Jiro and Hisashi, the only thing Teru could tell so far the two shared were indeed the shaded glasses. Nothing else, it seemed. “Ick, I don’t want to see your girlfriend cheating on you with your guitar.” Jiro’s laughter was infective, even Hisashi couldn’t surpress a few giggles and a flashing smile, mirroring Jiro’s proud expression at having the quiet man caught laughing. Takuro’s yawn interrupted the overall laughing fit. He stretched and ran a hand over his face, as if to wipe away the sudden tiredness. “Gentlemen, how about trying to make this box here more like a bedroom? We could use the straw to…” “We should leave the train to find a place to rest, I don’t think I can sleep in this rattling waggon, and we don’t want to be caught here, do we? Besides-“ “Besides, who made you the chief here, boyscout?” Takuro meant it as a joke, and apparently Jiro did, too. Hisashi on the other hand, seemed to be thankful to get just another invitation to snarl at Jiro. Teru wondered, did he really despise the boy with the cheeky grin or was he just angry because he had actually made him laugh? “You were the last to join, you don’t have a say in anything, boyscout.” Jiro flinched at the acid cast towards him, but masked it with another smile and a salute gesture. “Beg your pardon, sir. Who’s calling the shots then?” “Hisashi was the first in here, so he’s the chief.” “No thank you, I chose to be the silent and peculiar kill-joy.” Jiro nearly fell out of the car, he held his belly, laughing hard. Takuro nodded and giggled like a little kid, making Teru wondering about how old his companions actually were. They were, after all, acting as if they were on their first class trip. “Well, I was the second one here, so I’m the commander. Listen flying squad, next time the train slows down, we leave. Run, hide, find a fitting place for a safe bivouac. Any questions?” Teru rose his hand, grinning. Bunch of kids indeed. “Sir, what about me? Jiro’s the boyscout, Hisashi the… what was that again?” “Moody deadfreight.” If looks could kill, Jiro would just be a bloody spot on the floor. Hisashi’s deathglare seemed just to be dimnished by his sunglasses. “You’re second in command.” “Okay.” As if on cue, the train suddenly slowed down. Teru got up and took his hat, laughing softly. Sometimes, life was good. “Don’t risk your life, commander, I’ll check first. Boyscout, watch my back.” Throwing his bag out, he jumped down on the hard floor. They were lucky, the ground wasn’t too low, jumping down didn’t hold any risks. Next to him, the heavy duffelbag was followed by the light blonde. “Ouch…” “You okay?” “Twistet my ankle I think…” “Now is your turn to say something like ‘leave me behind, I’m just a burden to you, tell my wife I love her’…” Jiro laughed and shook his head, doing his best to ignore the stinging pain shooting up his leg. “First, I’m not married. Second, I don’t want to be left behind and third, I’m not the burden here.” “Oh yes you are…” Takuro laughed at Hisashi ‘s remark, Teru didn’t. He didn’t see Jiro’s face, but he was sure he could have seen a flash of hurt. Hisashi was the last one to jump off the freightbox, taking his suitcase from Jiro, who had been almost eager to hand it to him. He was trying to get through to the quiet man, wasn’t he? “This way.” Takuro broke into a run, the other three men following him. Hisashi had trouble carrying his heavy suitcase, just as Teru was about to offer him a hand, they heared shouts from behind. “Hey, you over there! Stop right where you are… stop I said!” They sped up, now this was really becoming serious. Jiro was the only one to laugh while running for all he was worth. “Okay, now that’s a real adventure!” “Yeah…” Teru heard Hisashi’s snarled reply, “Next episode is to take place in a dirty prison cell. By the way, you’re exactly the type those hairy thugs like to rape in the bathroom.” “…maybe we should hurry a little bit more…” Despite the situation, Teru and Takuro both broke into a laughing fit. This felt good, this felt like freedom. Running through the high grass, straight into nowhere, nothing but the things he had in his small bag, three guys at his side who rapidly grew more important to him. Teru couldn’t stop smiling, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so alive. They ran, nobody risked a glance backwards, though they all were sure they weren’t followed anymore. It just felt too good, the ticklish sensation of something dangerous, forbidden. Like when you were a kid and climbed into an empty warehouse, acting as if it was something only you could conquer. It didn’t matter how old his companions were, Teru knew for sure, their hearts were still as young and childish as his own. He was out of breath, but still he didn’t want to stop running. It was the harsh intake of breath he heared from Jiro that made him stop. Right, he had hurt his leg when he jumped out of the train. Teru turned to look at him, but there was no trace of pain in the smiling youthful face. “Okay… let’s walk this way, there seems to be some kind of… I don’t know, factory or corn silo…” “It looks like an abandoned gas station if you ask me…” “Good luck nobody asked you.” Hisashi didn’t look at Jiro as he passed him to follow Takuro and Teru towards the slowly setting sun. Jiro followed the trio a little bit unsteady, Hisashi could hear his irregular steps, as if he’d be limping. When he turned to throw a quick and neutral glance towards the blonde, Jiro looked away and did his best to keep up a steady step. “It is, indeed, an abandoned gas station. Right in front of an abandoned factory and an abandoned corn silo. Guess we have to share the first prize then.” Takuro laughed and slung his arm around Teru’s shoulder, shaking his head. “My, we’re the only two grown ups here, don’t you think?” Teru laughed and shook his head, nudging the taller man’s side playfully. There was no grown up anywhere to be seen. They were just a bunch of kids, and he liked it that way. “Let’s look for a decent spot to rest for the night. Death Squad, deploy. Detect and claim.” Jiro was the first one to part from the team. He strolled away, humming softly to himself. Teru watched ihm walk off, getting a strange feeling. This guy didn’t seem to like solitude, why was he the first one to leave? Without thinking, he followed him, leaving Hisashi and Takuro. “Jiro seems eager to fulfill his commander’s orders.” Hisashi shook his head, not waiting for Takuro’s laughter to cease. “Hurt cats always retreat.” “Huh?” “He hurt his leg when he left the train.” “Why didn’t he say so? We could have stopped much earlier, if he’s in pain why didn’t he just say something?” “Because he doesn’t want to be the whiny boyscout.” Takuro frowned and watched Hisashi for a few seconds as the much smaller man laid his suitcase down and sat down on it. “For someone who obviously doesn’t like him you sure do understand him pretty well…” “One has to know ones enemies, right commander?” “You’re really one of a kind, you know that?” “I’ve been told before…” Takuro laughed and climbed up some stairs. Plants had already claimed back what once belonged to nature, thin tendrils breaking through the cavernous cement, making each step dangerous. He stopped and let his eyes wander around. The sun was already hanging low on a reddish sky, a few clouds had gathered and were resting motionless upon the glowing horizon. He had never been a nature type of person, but right now, he could do nothing but just marveling at the beauty of this sunset, this special day in late summer, feeling golden and unique. A soft, warm breeze caused the high grass to move in gentle waves, a calm ocean of comforting lonesomeness. Where would he be next year? Somewhere similar calm? Would he remember this moment, this day he spent with unknown friends? A heavy sigh fell from his lips and his gaze wandered to the guitar case he had put down next to him. He knelt down and opened it, taking out the dead body of his beloved guitar. The pang of sadness didn’t come, instead he was filled with the strange but pleasant feeling of… of what? A strange feeling, solemn, warm, final. He took a deep breath and threw the remains of the instrument down the little hill next to the block he was standing on. It rolled down, burst a little bit more, and vanished somewhere within the high grass and weeds. Time for something new. Whatever that might be. Smiling softly, he returned to where he had left Hisashi and the heavy suitcase of his. The quiet man was still sitting there, staring at the sun. He seemed to be deep in thoughts, so Takuro didn’t dare to interrupt him. He was just about to leave and look for a good spot to stay for the night when he spottet Teru coming back, smiling and waving his way. “Takuro, Hisashi… we’ve found something.” Hisashi took a deep breath and got up, took his heavy suitcase and looked at Takuro, expecting him to come with him. He smiled softly and followed Teru, scanning the area for the blonde boy. But he was nowhere to be seen. “Threw the boyscout into the silo?” “Nope, he’s waiting over there.” They rounded the ruins of what used to be a small tank, crossing a small parking space. Jiro waved at them, he was sitting on the roof of a flat building that appeared to be half sunken in the once muddy ground. “That’s perfect. We can make a fire on top of this brig without burning the whole place. If it starts to rain, we can climb inside. Well done, guys.” Jiro laughed at Takuro’s Commander-voice and climbed down carefully. Teru once again noticed the way he made sure not to land on his left leg. He didn’t say anything about this though, he didn’t want to embarrass him. “Okay, I’ll go get some dry wood, after all I’m the boyscout, right?” “Hisashi should go with you.” Both of them didn’t try to hide their opinion on Takuro’s suggestion. Hisashi folded his arms and shook his head, Jiro frowned and scratched his nose. “Uhm… no need, I can do this on my own…” “Yeah, you proved you’re indeed capable of making a fire.” “Is that a compliment or an offence?” “I don’t make compliments.” Takuro cleared his throat and lowered his voice, sounding like an American Soldier. “That’s why you should go together. And please, try not to kill yourself.” “No promises made.” Hisashi turned and threw a quick glance over his shoulder, motioning Jiro to follow him. The blonde was still frowning, he was nervous as hell. Clumsily he followed Hisashi, who sped up even more once Jiro caught up with him. The smaller man seemed to float, never tripping or swaying once. He lightly jumped over a few stones and ruins on his way towards an empty barrack that looked as if it was once made of wooden shelves. Suddenly, something caught his jacket. Jiro gasped in surprise, he hadn’t seen this stone, now he was paying for his recklessness. He let go of Hisashis jacket and fell flat on his face, his wrist hit a rotten board and his knee hit a rosty piece of metal. “Damn… can’t you just-“ Jiro looked up at Hisashi, pain reflecting in his eyes. The sunglasses lay beside him, dusty and forgotten. Hisashi swallowed, hard. There was dried blood, a nasty swelling and a few stitches much too close to his left eye. It looked far beyond painful. “What happened to your eye?” Jiro slowly got up, rubbing his knee. He chose to remain silent, picking up his glasses and wiping off the dust and sand. He walked past the other man and took a closer look at the rotten barrack. “We could use the broken door…” “I just asked you a question.” “And I decided not to answer it.” “Fine.” “Fine.” They began kicking the door into smaller pieces of dry wood, busy ignoring each others presence. Hisashi was angry, furious even. How dare this little kid refusing to answer his question? It had been a simple question, why did he react so… mean… he stopped and stared down at his dirty hands. Hadn’t he been the one to be mean in the first place? Jiro had tried to approach him more than once, and he had always thrown nasty remarks at him, aiming for his weak spots even. Wait, what was he thinking? This guy was annoying, stupid, clumsy, bold… “I told you I got into an argument with my father…” “So what?” “You wanted to know about my eye. That’s the answer.” “I see…” Hisashi went back to working, his movements calmer than just moments before. Somehow, he forgot to be angry. “Why did your girlfriend dump you?” “I never said it was a ‘girl’friend.” “I didn’t ask if it was a guy or a girl, I asked why you were dumped.” His smile was back in place, and it was honest and open. Hisashi bit his lip, had he just confessed he was not – so – straight to this … boy? Why wasn’t he freaking out at this? “I don’t know.” “He didn’t even give you a reason?” Jiro stared at him, appalled. “No. He just… made me leave.” “You used to live together, didn’t you?” “Yes. I came home and he was… busy with someone else. So I took his place and left.” “You took his place?” “He was about to leave me, suitcase already packed, his … ‘visitor’ seemed to have surprised him while he was preparing to leave me.” “It’s his suitcase, isn’t it?” “How can you tell?” “Dunno… I guess I just don’t think you’re the type to carry an old suitcase with stickers on it. You’re more the… I don’t know, Gucci bag – type.” “Gucci like this guy who designed your glasses and underwear?” “My underwear is Boss.” “Spare me the details.” “Spare me silly remarks.” “Fine.” “Fine.” Hisashi couldn’t force his lips to stay expressionless. He smiled and turned away to pick up some pieces of wood. This guy way strange, in more than one way. “Watch it, boyscout, this one isn’t dry enough.” He tossed the broken board back towards Jiro, refusing to look at him. “You know, this was fun a while ago, but can’t you just call me Jiro? I have a name, you know?” “I know. But Jiro’s not your name.” Hisashi couldn’t see him, he just heard the rustling of clothes and the rattling of wood stopped. He nearly could feel the other man staring at him. “What do you mean?” “Your name is not Jiro.” A few minutes passed, the blonde didn’t move. Hisashi wiped his forehead with his sleeve and took a deep breath. They had found enough wood, they couldn’t carry more than the two high packs they had built anyway. “Yoshihito.” “Yoshihito who?” “…Wayama…” “I see.” He picked up his pile and turned to leave, to go back to the place they chose as a nightcamp. Jiro followed, an uneasy silence spreading from him. Of course Hisashi knew the name, Wayama Industries was a big name all over the country. Now it made sense, the expensive clothes, the brand of his sunglasses, the smell of luxurious aftershave. “Wow, you’re back and unharmed, I was just about to get worried.” Takuro took Hisashi’s burden from him and started to try and light a fire immediately. Teru smiled at the two of them, taking a deep drag from his freshly lit cigaret. “You’ve got one for me, too?” Hisashi sat down beside him, already feeling the early chill of the night crawling up on him. Teru nodded, obviously glad he wasn’t the only smoker around, and offered him a cigaret and his lighter. “So, what did you two do, did you fight and fuzz all the while? Or did you actually talk?” Teru didn’t miss the quick glance Hisashi and Jiro exchanged, Hisashi had taken off his shades a while ago, allowing a good look at his beautiful eyes. “No talking. The boyscout was wise enough not to be a pain in the ass.” “Yeah, besides it’s no fun talking to a moody prick.” “Glad to see you’re both okay, obviously.” Takuro laughed both at their childish argument and the small flame slowly growing beneath his hands. “Fire’s coming. Well… what about food, any of you have something to eat?” “Exept for Pocky, no.” “Pocky? You’re really a child after all.” Hisashi folded his arms behind his neck and laid down on the dusty ground. The first stars were looking down at him, a few more clouds gathering around them. Tonight would be cold, and most probably rather rainy. Teru shiftet and grabbed his bag, pulling out a plastik box. “I’ve portraiyed an old lady, and when I left again she gave me some Onigiri. Help yourselves.” Slowly, night crawled closer, bringing a cool breeze and comforting darkness. The small fire kept them warm, Teru gave his jacket to Takuro sometime during the evening. The tall man hadn’t taken anything with him but his guitar and felt cold despite the fire he so proudly kept alive. “Teru, you said you’re an artist… can I see some of your work?” “Sure…” Carefully he took a small sketchbook out of his bag and handed it to Jiro, laughing softly at the blonde, who still had his sunglasses on. “Don’t you think it’s dark enough to take those off?” “Nah, dark shades make me cooler, you know?” “Not really.” “I didn’t talk to you, Hisa…” Laughing, Jiro took off his sunglasses, lowering his gaze to take a closer look at Teru’s paintings. “What happened to your eye? Looks scary…” Takuro leaned closer and poked at Jiro’s swollen eye, frowning. “Does that hurt?” “Yes.” “Oh, sorry.” “Wow Teru, that’s really cool! Some of those pictures actually look like real photos…” “Come to speak of it, didn’t you say you’re a photographer?” “No, I said I want to become one.” “You have a camera with you?” “Yeah… but I don’t have batteries. Forgot to take a fresh pack when I left home.” Hisashi hesitatet and then slowly opened the suitcase he had been sitting on. Jiro was the only one to notice his shaky intake of breath at the sight of familiar yet foreign clothes. “Maybe I have some for you…” he rumaged through the things he found in this suitcase, looking for a special item… There it was, the camera of his ex-lover. He grabbed it and tossed it over to the blonde boy. “Dunno if they fit. You can keep them.” Jiro flashed a blinding smile at the silent man, eagerly looking for his camera. “Ne Jiro, you didn’t tell us what happened to your eye… you had an accident of some kind?” ”Nope, got into a fight. Never been the strong one you know… great, it works!” His excited shout echoed from the concrete wall behind him as he jumped to his feet, almost losing his balance. Teru grabbed his shirt and pulled him away from the not-so-deep abyss. “Easy, don’t break your neck.” Jiro didn’t respond, he was busy setting up his professional looking camera. “Isn’t it too dark to take pictures?” “No, it’s just a little bit difficult, but not impossible… I think this will work.” And it indeed did. None of them went to sleep that night, time was too precious to be wasted asleep. Jiro took pictures of everyone and everything, Teru talked about places and people he had seen and met during the months he spend on the road, Takuro marveled at Teru’s drawing skills and Hisashi just sat there, smoking and silently observing the three of them. From time to time he would smile or say something, or steal one of those delicious Onigiri Teru had offered. Sometimes, life was indeed strange. Two days ago, he had found out his long time boyfriend had cheated on him and was about to leave him, and when he had been hurt and desperate, he had realized he didn’t have a single friend. All those people he knew were actually his ex-lover’s friends, none of them was really close to him. Two days ago, he had felt lonely and fainthearted, sitting in an empty freightbox, spending a whole night and a half day drinking beer, existing but not alive anymore. And now… now he was sitting here, in the middle of nowhere, his head pillowed on the soft duffelbag of an annoying boyscout, warmed by a small fire made by a tall musician, listening to the stories of a impecunious but happy artist. His eyes wandered over the three faces, dimly lit by the unsteady flames. Teru seemed to be smiling all the time, never losing his warm and gentle charisma. It was obvious he came along with the three of them pretty well, as if they’d known each other for years. Takuro on the other hand seemed to be a little bit unsure, he sometimes forgot to plaster this huge grin upon his face, looking almost nervous and insecure. When he had been playing on his guitar, he had looked so happy and lost in his music… Why wasn’t he angry at Jiro anyway? Jiro… Hisashi frowned and watched the bouncy man for a while. He had been busy taking photos all the while, looking rather ridiculous in those positions he bend when taking pictures. He still wasn’t sure if he liked him. No, he liked him, he still wasn’t sure why he did. And why had he told him about his failed relationship? “Guys… let’s make a promise.” What was the blonde jester up to again? “One year from today, we’ll meet here again.” “I don’t think that will work. I don’t even know where we are.” “We could at least imagine to meet again… imagine what we would tell the others if we’d meet again. It’s a game, come on guys! What is it you want to tell the others next year?” “I don’t get it…” “Well… one year from now, I want to be able to tell you I sort things out with my father.” He smiled softly and stared into the happy flames of Takuro’s fire, lazily leaning against the cold wall behind him. A few minutes passed, the only sound that could be heared was the soft breeze making dry grass sway lightly and the quiet clicking noise of the fire. “I want to be in a band again. My own band.” “I’m sure you will be!” Takuro’s smile could have made the fire jealous, Jiro’s words seemed to touch him deeply. Teru nodded, nudging Takuro gently. “You will. And I will be in Europe, sitting in front of St. Peter’s cathedral.” “Watching and drawing cute italian girls?” “Maybe!” When the laughter finally died down, all eyes came to rest on Hisashi. He lowered his gaze, staring at his hands, shrugging. “Dunno.” He really didn’t know. Takuro laughed and took some Pocky’s from Jiro, who still watched the small quiet man, waiting for him to speak up again. But he didn’t, he leaned back against the comfortable duffelbag and closed his eyes. He wasn’t tired, he just wanted them to note he wasn’t going to say anything. “How about… one year from now you’ll be happy again?” Jiro’s voice sounded serious, though it didn’t lose its happy touch. Teru and Takuro watched Hisashi, curious how he would be reacting to Jiro’s words. He didn’t react at all. The rest of the night was spend talking, laughing and fooling around. It felt free and natural. When the first reddish rays of sunlight crawled over the thin line of the blurry horizon, the fire finally died down. Cristal dewdrops clung to grass and the few belongings of four tired but happy men. Teru was the first one to get up, he took his hat and smiled at his new friends. “I think, now’s the best time to say goodbye… I don’t know where I’ll be going now… but it’s time for me to move on.” Takuro got up and took his guitar case, he was still wearing Teru’s jacket. “I’ll come with you, till I get the chance to somehow go home again, if you don’t mind my company a little bit longer…” Teru nodded, smiling happily. Jiro swallowed hard when he hugged the two men briefly, trying his best to hide his watery eyes. “Take care, ne?” Hisashi smiled at them, the only way to say goodbye he thought suitable. He just stood there, watching Teru and Takuro walking off into the unknown. He was still standing there when they long ago had vanished from his view. Jiro sighed and picked up his duffelbag, fumbling with his sleeve for some moments. “Ano… I should be going, too… I think I’ll just follow the tracks back home… there’s no use in running away, I think I’ve been a bit too childish.” Hisashi just nodded, not looking at the blonde. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t even know for sure what to feel, now that this strange time of companionship was coming to an end. “Ne Hisa… take care ne? And… if you ever see your ex-lover again, kick his ass.” Hisashi felt Jiro’s eyes on him, probably he was waiting for a final goodbye. “You kick your father’s ass, boyscout.” The last thing he heared from Jiro was his happy laughter, fading away slowly. Nothing remained on the roof of the silo, just a few black burned pieces of wood, a broken guitar and an abandoned brown suitcase with stickers of all kind attached to it. The thin tedrils of a young plant slowly claimed the only visible signs of a memoriable night, hiding it from the rest of the world, only manifested in the memories of four young men, for the rest of their lives. ~~~~ part2 will follow soon! Hosted by Animexx e.V. (http://www.animexx.de)