The apartment was dark when Tsuge arrived home.
Misuzu and Morio were in the next town along, at Misuzu’s family home. The school had granted them leave as an emergency measure to escape the bullying, which had apparently grown worse.
Tsuge sipped at a bowl of noodles. He turned on the washing machine and started to run a bath but turned the tap off halfway. He collapsed into bed. He lay there for a while, arms and legs spread like a cross. There was a drawing of him on the wall. Scribbled in paint and crayon, he didn’t think it much of a likeness. The words were a mess, too.
Thanks for working so hard.
Tsuge put on his clothes and left the building. There was something he needed to tell his son. He held on to the words as he set out in the car:
Make a friend. Just one will do.
He wasn’t sure if he really believed them, but he pushed down on the accelerator regardless, as though to stamp out the apathy growing inside him.