Family or Front?

After the small scale war that happened over the weekend, it felt odd to come back to school and see that everything was essentially the same as it was the week before. Everyone completely unaware of the going-ons of just a dozen or so blocks away from their very homes. For better or worse, nobody looked at Benjiro any differently. The Domon Battalion still looked at him with malicious intent, Saori still gave him one of her trademark grins, and by and large the rest of the world treated his existence with almost complete indifference. However, at the moment, people's opinions were at the back of his mind as he realized that tomorrow was the deadline of the poetry competition. When the teacher reminded him at the end of class, he stopped dead in his tracks and blanched. His work for the drama club, the tutoring and the gang battle had pushed the thought of it to the furthest depths of his memory. Seeing the deer-in-headlights expression on his face, a ghost of a smile crossed Hiromi's face, her victory over an unlikely adversary all but confirmed in her eyes.

When it was time to tutor Daitan, he tried to get through his material as quickly as he could. Things seemed to be progressing at a better pace than they were before. She was no longer flipping the switch between apathetic towards him to outright mad, which he after nearly three weeks of feeling like a man dancing in the center of a minefield, was quite grateful. Although the strange thing wasn't even necessarily that Daitan's mood pendulum seemed to be making less wide swings, it was that she seemed to almost tolerate his presence now. To call her attitude towards him, friendly would be like calling a cactus soft, but she was markedly accepting of his lessons. That and the other thing was that she seemed less bothered by him, to the point where even when Yamanaka couldn't be there for the lessons every time, she still sat and listened to Benjiro play his guitar and played the games he came up with on his flash cards.

When the day of the poetry competition's deadline had approached, the poor boy felt like his head was in a vice. Compared to everything else he had to do, coming up with a poem about family like Mr. Watanaba asked him was a relatively simple task. There were already a few different stanzas written down about potential ideas, and he thought of a few edits that made them fit better, but it just didn't feel right. Now, sitting on the floor of the music room with nothing but his thoughts and a few chicken scratch covered papers.

Thinking of his family made him think about what happened after his brother dropped him back off at his house. He didn't listen in on whatever his father and brother had to say each other. As far as he knew, they could've simply exchanged a few terse pleasantries and gone their separate ways, but in that regard, he was nobody's fool. It was almost a given that the two of them had a fight. Just thinking about what may have transpired just a few dozen meters outside filled Benjiro with a lukewarm mixture of sadness and guilt. Trying to reduce tensions between his remaining family was like trying to find a way to make fireworks that didn't explode. What he had written down didn't reflect anything that could be said about his family or even behind the concept of family that he had grown up with.

To Benjiro, family just ultimately seemed to be made up of people that happened to be related to you, and nothing more. He had seen and listened to plenty of movies, anime, songs and books about what it meant to be a family. Whether it was about them being stronger than the tides of tragedy, gathering around to just be together or sometimes to just poke fun at how having so many people in one place was like waiting for the proverbial baking soda volcano to erupt in all its messy glory. But none of those things applied to him.

Looking up at the clock, he noticed that there were maybe twenty minutes until lunch ended and he hadn't even eaten anything. At the moment though, trust in his stomach to maintain integrity was too much to ask. Maybe if he just went up to Mr. Watanaba and asked to withdraw from the competition, that would be for the best. Hiromi would stop being mad at him for whatever reason, her ridiculous fan club would finally get off his back and he'd have more time to focus on his other projects. Not that any of them were long term ones, but the fact that there was a deadline made the headache he was feeling seriously exacerbate. Through the haze of his head, an idea suddenly came to him.

If writing about family was the goal, and he had no clue how to do that, then that was what he would do. He would write about what he did, or more appropriately, didn't know. It was the perfect plan. By almost aggressively complying to the letter of the rules, he would let everyone know what he perceived. As far as Hiromi's family went, it couldn't be any more messed up than his was. She'd write something nice, beautiful and most likely sophisticated. If there were three adjectives that could describe how he saw that girl, those would be it. Well, the nice part was probably up for debate. Whenever something came along that seemed to hint at threatening her spot as the top student, well his talk with her when the winners were announced was hint enough.

The random run-in the two of them had in what he considered his private music room was certainly eye opening, if not confusing. Her playing was certainly good, denying that was outright foolish. But there was just something about her playing that kept on bothering him. It sounded almost robotic with how exact it was. It sounded like something you'd hear in a recording after all the supposed imperfections had been taken out. Beautiful, absolutely, but it lacked any human feeling.

These and other thoughts played around in his head as he scribbled something down. There was that saying by a sculptor whose name Benjiro had never thought to commit to memory. Something about how inside of every block of stone, there was a man waiting inside to be formed. This was something like that, and the more he 'sculpted', the more 'the man' underneath began to be seen clearer. The bell rang.

"S**t."

He was almost done with it, but there were a few important lines he had forgotten. In his Language Arts class, a few people passed him as he was furiously scribbling sentences out as fast as his bony fingers could generate. Members of the Domon Battalion saw that and snickered, not even bothering to hide their contemptful glee at his trouble. Their assurance was that their goddess would trounce the upstart who dared to challenge her, and the sight of Benjiro's near desperation only cemented that assurance. Hiromi herself upon her own witnessing, would never dare to let anyone see past her mask. Just behind the mask of indifference was an unshakeable confidence in certain victory.

The lesson for that day was given with an agonizing slowness for some and plain old slowness for others. At the moment of truth, Hiromi hardly waited for the teacher to call her name before she drew herself up and glided to the front of the room, her long, dark hair trailing behind her like willows branches. She held the paper in her hands gingerly, as if reading the decree of a king.

...

When I see my family, I see greatness personified

They rise above all else to take the world by storm

My father is a leader and fearlessly pursues anything he wants

My mother is the more gentle and outgoing of the two

When the two of them rise, even before the sun begins the day

They ready themselves for the daily battle to come

Perfection is demanded and we rise to the occasion

Though a difficult road, they spur me on towards the goal

Every day we search for new heights and occasions to rise

Even when they look impassable, and although I would love to turn back

I am encouraged to reach even further than what is deemed possible

Whatever comes, it may appear to be unbeatable to anyone else

But to me and my family, there exists no such thing

Step aside anyone who would hinder us as we conquer the world

The Domon's don't fear you, nor should we ever

So watch us as we take off from the earth, into the great beyond.

....

Her poem wasn't very long, much like her previous entry. But it had similar undertones, that of a superior mindset and of equally grand aspirations. A smattering of applause was heard as she made her way back to her seat. Most of it came from her fan club, but praise was praise and she felt like basking in it for the moment. They were all devoted to her, and sometimes it felt good to let them have a moment where the sheep could see their shepherdess in all her glory. It was the least she could do, every now and then.

"Mr. Nojiri, you may come forward."

Benjiro looked every bit as nervous as he did in the first round, and clutching his hastily written paper did little to defuse any negative attention he was receiving from certain kids in the crowd. Though quavering, a slight grin crossed the lanky boy's lips before starting.

...

Walk down the street and glance into the park and what do you see

A Mother pushing her daughter on the swings or a Dad throwing a frisbee

You stop, stare and wonder, when was the last time you did that

You search for any kind of memory, but only fall flat

Wandering home, the lights are dark, but that's no indication

Of whether someone's home or maybe gone on a sudden vacation

Open up the doors and the only thing greeting you is a mess

Hear a groan down the hall and wonder if you'd prefer emptiness

Hole yourself up in your room and just wait for the sun to set and rise

When was the last time you saw your brother, he's always out with the guys

Does anyone want to see you or do they just prefer keeping you away

Try to ask someone but they either don't know or care what to say

Part of the family is here and part of it is over there

Part of it is far beyond, no matter what people claim is fair

Do you even think that you deserve it after all these years

After all the pain and after crying the river of tears

There are a few more unusual sights that pique your sight

A bunch of hoodlums, like wolves howling into the lonely night

Or a nearby neighbor that offers an unlikely hand

And gives you the chance to see what it's like not buried in the sand

For all I know, maybe that's what family could possibly mean

Until that day comes, I suppose that remains to be seen.

...

Finished reading, Benjiro looked up into the eyes of Hiromi herself to try and gauge a reaction. He had expected to see the usual high and mighty front that annoyed some and drove others wild. Instead there seemed to be a mixture of emotions. Surprise, sadness, anger , apprehension and for some reason a look of empathetic understanding. There was just some murmuring as he looked around, as if he hadn't even said a word at all. A sick, angry clenching was felt inside his stomach. As he trudged back to his desk, Benjiro just wished that the day would end.

'Remains to be seen, huh. Wishful thinking much?' he thought.