The Unspoken Truth Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Greed Okay, middle-year exams are coming up really close now (as in, next week), and we are, as a class, basically in a state of subtle frenzy. All things coherent to our studies and subject are the daily conversations, with arguing and debating a common sight outside the usual given time by Sensei. However, if he let aside time after his lessons for some ‘group reviewing’, or so it was called, the noise level only got worse. We were almost scolded by the middle school headmaster, but thank the gods he had urgent matters to do. “Oh my God, you retard! WE attacked Pearl Harbor, not them, how could they even attack their own base, are they stupid enough to do that!? Hellooo!” Nanaho harshly corrected Nagata as she ‘knocked’ his head, searching for his brain. “Okay, fine, I was wrong, I’m sorry! I didn’t study last night!” Nagata apologized, apparently stressed for not knowing such a thing. On another side of the room, Goro was answering questions about chemistry. “No, manganese can only be charge until +7…Yeah, C2H5OH is oxalate…Hey wait, why are you asking that? It’s already in the polyatomic chart!” Scribbles of trigonometric formulae on the whiteboard, books scattered on the desks, and more debates…and so on and so forth….it continued until it took some of our lunch time. Yeah, go figure. We were trying to get it all on our minds, in a somewhat bizarre way. “So, Ara, what else do you need?” I asked him after the last bell rung. “Nothing else, really….” He said, looking kind of sad as we walked to the school gate. “He? Why the long face?” I asked, curious. “Pre-test stomach butterflies got you?” “…Ah, no, nothing, it’s just that I got allowance problems,” he half-murmured. “Oh, is that so? Wait…it’s not like you to be thinking about you allowances. Are you sure you’re alright?” “Yeah, yeah, it’s all cool, don’t worry…” He sort of forced a smile. “Okay, if you say so….hey, why don’t we take some of the stress off our backs at Harajuku?” I asked him to join me. Hearing this, he agreed. “Sure, why not?” It was Friday night anyway. Most people go to Harajuku street at Tokyo for the shopping centers and department stores, but we go there for the arcade centers, which is, bluntly speaking, a part of our lives, even in situations like the upcoming mid-terms. We’d go for House of the Dead 3, and then some Initial D, or perhaps we duel at Beatmania. Among the class, we were among the most skillful players of any of those games. Darius jokingly nicknamed us the Gullible Gamers, which reeks of suspicion that he is actually mocking us. “Wow, Yoshio’s a pro; you got an AA on that song!” Ara said sarcastically. “Shut up, it was only a coincidence! Now don’t go making me an idol; you’re the one who scored that triple A!” “Oushikosho! I never did triple A’s before…” Ara tried to “Oh yeah, like, you got straight A’s last week and you won’t admit it until now, Mr Humble?”

It was nice being friends with Ara. One reason is that no matter how many times you try to irritate him jokingly, he’ll always forgive. He can really control his temper, but he’s sometimes impatient. What’s best of him is that he always gives, his homemade croquettes, his stationary, hundred yen coins, or even donating to charity, he’s a guy whose is better to give than to receive. He personally believes that the act of giving, whether big or small, makes him happy the most. Me, I don’t give much, but I respect his views. But now, something must’ve really gone wrong with him. “Hey, don’t you always give donations to that guy over there?” I asked when we saw the usual representative of a charity organization for AIDS. “Oh yeah…..but I’ve run out of extra money today…maybe tomorrow.” He replied. “I see…” But there was a look of hesitation in his face. As a friend, I felt that he didn’t really mean what he said. When we parted ways at the train station that leads home, I saw him again near the public sakura park. He was helping a drunken man get to his senses. Or so it seems. I saw him laying the drunken man against a wall on the street, and he left away quite hurriedly. At that time, I saw this as yet another act of compassion, so I kept walking towards home. What I didn’t realize was, when I had left my viewing position, the drunken man searched for something in his pocket while he was singing something incomprehensible. “naaaakushiitee—huh? Wh’ze muh walleeeet?” He half-muzzled in the tune of his song.

“Yoshio, have you seen my blue pen?’ Masahiro asked me when lunch was about to end a couple of days later. “Huh? Uh…..sorry, Masahiro, I don’t think so…” I said as I searched around. “Mieko, dear, have you seen my English book?” Nanaho called out from outside. Inside the class, Mieko searched under Nanaho’s desk. “Nope, sorry, captain….” She replied. Apparently, I don’t know the reason why she called Nanaho ‘captain’. Maybe others would know, but don’t ask me. “Nemura, I hope you’re not the one who stole my pudding here, mate,” Richard said in suspicion. “…what? Hey, how and why would I ever steal something like a pudding?” asked Nemura, looking kind of confused. “My God, where’s my phone!?” Asari searched frantically in her belongings. “Hey, at least you’re not the only one losing something, look around you,” said Darius. “Guys, have you seen Fuuko? I really need my calculator back,” Jorouchi asked, appearing from the class door. “Ehh……she went to the Lost and Found center at the Administration building…” Yuliya pointed out. “…..and where’s that?”

“2nd floor, 3rd corridor,” I called out, still attempting to search Masahiro’s pen. “Ok, why is everybody losing something? I’m so freaking out right now! Aduh Gustiii!” Misaki exclaimed as she was getting afraid…..sort of. I guess she was more on her Indonesian side than her Japanese. I haven’t seen Ara the whole of lunch time. Usually he’d tail me whenever I strolled around the school after my lunch. Maybe he was the one behind all the robbery… but still, I can’t actually assume something was right unless it’s got proof. Well, in any case, where was he?

It’s after school now, and still no trace of Ara. Masaki-sensei marked him as absent on the attendance record, and he reported this sudden absence to the Administration. This time, I was convinced that he wasn’t telling the truth a couple of days back. Apparently, a select few from our class were also suspicious of his absence. It’s not like Ara to skip the rest of the school day after lunch. Usually, kids like that went to the rooftop area (there are five in the whole school), but Teppei reported that he hasn’t seen him in any of the five, as he was rewarded free lunch money by Nemura. On that evening, I went to the nearby stationary store to do my monthly school shopping, replacing and adding any supplies that I have run out or need for the latter weeks. After I brought some beautifully patterned origami paper and paid, there was a bit of ruckus as I exited the store. I saw a guy with a black mask rushing away from a convenience store across the street. He was carrying a pocket knife along with a plastic bag. The guy ran crossing the street and went away from my direction. “He is your friend.” Without further ado, I rushed and chased after him. But it was hopeless; he was faster than me, so I keep losing pace on him and finally I lost track on him. I decided to give it up. Maybe he had seen me chasing him. After I brought some canned cold oolong tea to refresh myself, I decided to walk through some alleys as a part of the cooling off process. A few minutes later, at some 10 meters ahead of me, I could see a figure retreating to the shadows of an alley. I looked closer, and he wore the same mask that I saw on the recent robbery. He took off his mask, perhaps because of the heat. Well, it’s an unusually hot evening, even in late February. But the heat was not the problem right now. It was the person’s face behind the mask. “Dear gods, it was true,” I murmured to myself in incredulity, as the person counted the money he salvaged from the robbery. “Ara!” I exclaimed as I ran towards him. His face turned to me. Surprised, he said nothing, but instead he ran and turned around a T alley on the right. I followed him, but I found a dead alley with a door. He wasn’t there. I approached the door and tried to open it, but it won’t budge at all. I peered through the small door window. It was pitch black inside. “Sooouuuuuuls…more souls for me…”

A deceased hand slammed the window I peered through, followed with other hands that slammed the door and, as if in a craving for something. Then the handle of the door began shaking furiously “NANDE KUSO!?” I fell on my butt, and as quickly as I can, I got up to my feet and made a run for it. I retreated home, as usual, but I calmed myself first to avoid any suspicion from my family. “I’m home, “I finally said as I enter my house. “Welcome back,” my brother greeted me from the living room. He was watching Takeshi’s Castle while eating melons. “How’s the show?” I asked. “They didn’t conquer the castle again….” He said kind of disappointed. “But they won last week, right?” “Yeah, but not this week...” “Kids, we’re going to our family grave on Spring Equinox day, alright?” My mother reminded us. “As usual? That means we’re going to visit grandma’s house, too?” My brother enthusiastically asked. “Definitely, “my mother smiled. “Yay! I miss her manju cakes!” He said excitedly. “Are you okay with that, Yoshio?” “Yeah, I’m alright,” I agreed as well. I went upstairs to my room. I punched the wall after I closed the door. That damned imposter! He’s taking Ara now as hostage! I’d kill him if he showed his nose now— “Well, what are you waiting for?” I thought I was the one who said that. Truth be told, my imposter was sitting at my computer chair, wearing the exact same clothes I had. “…You!” My thirst for revenged fueled me to punch him in the face, but to no result. He was only an illusion. As I backed away, he turned to me and with a swipe of his palm; he pulled out 7 cards, the cards that I saw when my verdict was first given. There were 2 cards that had a white background; pictures of Kiyomi and Floramaria. The card next to Flora has Ara’s face on it, and it had a green background. The other four cards had only indigo, orange, blue, and yellow backgrounds respectively. “2 down, 5 to go,” He said as he disappeared with that sinister smile I always loathed of him. Wait, if I loathe anything from him, does that mean I loath myself too? The lazy sun attracted the sunflowers around the graveyard. It was a mild late spring afternoon. Colorful flowers made homage to the deceased as they greeted mourners to pay respects to the predecessors wearing black clothing. I wore black trousers and a black shirt; mom said not to be too formal today. We, as a family, got down to our knees and prayed for our predecessors, my great grandfather and great grandmother, and wished them a good afterlife. “I have been searching all this time, you know.” A voice appeared in my head. It was not my own. “Who is this? What are you doing inside my thoughts?” I asked back as I continued to pray. He’s starting to disrupt my concentration.

“Your friend.” “Liar, friends don’t talk like this.” “If you insist…open your eyes.” He ordered. I ignored what he said. “Open them, I said.” I gave him a chance. When I opened my eyes, my family, who prayed beside me, vanished. The scenery instantly changed like flipping a book to the next page. The graves were gone, the flowers, as well as pretty much everything. What I see a couple of seconds later is a green field, with an orange sunset in the horizon. At first, I can only see a hilly prairie that stretches on until infinity. Then, as I blinked my eyes, one by one, graves started to appear before my eyes, either solitary and far apart from one another, or clustered very tightly around each other. Some are arranged grid-wise and some out of order. The graves vary in size, from big rectangles to as little as small stones in place of someone deceased. But they all bear the same inscription: R.I.A Rested in Avarice I thought they always rested in peace, but why in avarice? On my back, there was a rectangular stone that didn’t look like a grave. On the front of it bears in inscription: “Welcome to Kitty Hawk, California. Here rests the bodies of those who are drowned in their own craving of possession and power. “ I always thought Kitty Hawk was the place where the first airplane was controlled by the Wright Brothers. So…I don’t see any connection between Kitty Hawk and these graves. “Orville and Wilbur flew because they had no weight that kept them from pursuing their dreams. These guys rot because their own weights of greed make them rot in the ground.” It was someone’s sound that seemed so familiar to the ears. Turning back, I saw a figure that was among the one that I had put my trust on. Ara Wakannai. Funny how he’s only wearing sackcloth; maybe he repented or something. “Surprised, aren’t you?” He said as he walked down a low hill. “…Yeah, I sure do,” I said. “Some of these guys here are supposed to be figures of our history, but sadly, they got eaten up by their own selfish desires and they carry’em to death, “he explained, in a way that wasn’t his personality. I already knew in my heart that this is not the Ara I knew; this was a greedier version of Ara. He continued to approach me. “Now, since they carry their own avarice to their graves, it is certain that they still have that desire to go back to the world and claim what they wanted until they can sleep peacefully, right? Or, they might even force themselves to live a wile longer and satisfy their needs. Get what I’m saying?” “Every word there, Ara,” I nodded. “So, what’s the whole point here?” I asked. Ara seemed surprised by this, and he was in thought, gazing at the sky for a while. “Good question, now that you think about it…” He mumbled, “Let me just get things together…” He was lost in thought for a moment. After a minute, he signaled his answer by tapping a fist in his palm. As I was waiting for his answer, I was shocked to find that a big stone monolith had appeared behind Ara, who didn’t notce

“Since you have a soul, perhaps one of these folks might—“ A hand spurted out from the ground near me and attempted to reach out for my feet. “Gack!” I avoided the hand in shock. I tried to run away from the hand, and Ara, indirectly, but it was sort of futile. ‘Cause like, there were other hands, near and far, that started to unearth themselves, and in a few moments, I could see heads popping out from the bottom of their graves, their life fueled by only one sin; greed. Lots and lots of them started to unearth themselves up. Their faces were horrible, some of them had flesh hanging down their body, their eyes gone, some disfigured, and there are even some whose appearances I do not wish to talk about. “Well, I say it’s not you fault, or mine, that made them awake. Probably he did,” Ara made a gesture to the stone monolith, which was now shaking. Moments, later, the stone dissipated into grains that circled round like a dust tornado, and as it started to fade away, a statue of a king sitting down on his throne appeared, out of stone. He was carrying a globe in one hand and a baton in the other. He was wearing his full ceremonial garments, and his crown was ever so splendid, much like Britain’s kings of the old. “And you thought that king had enough. Well, you go figure, he always wanted more than what he could get.” The king’s globe began to emit a filthy green aura. Moments, later, it had enveloped Ara as well. “Ara….” “I, have lived a virtue of giving for all these years, Yoshio. You know better that for me, it was better to give than to receive. But why is life so unfair? Why do I have to be the one that suffers? Why couldn’t I live in peace carrying this stupid virtue!?” It was true; he was holding back something from me and the others after all. “So why are you the one stealing around everything? Do you think you can just force people to give you something in return?” “Truth be told, Mr. Shiroyanagi, economic loss is not something nice to have. I almost can’t bear the school fees because of that; I got stressed thinking about what to eat every day; it is, in reality, a torture so grievous to the mind.” “I still don’t see why you make this a big problem. You should be thankful in any situation you face.” I replied with my own reasoning. “Wisecracker. And you thought poverty is a blessing. How naïve. Perhaps these folks here know how to get back to your senses,” he said. Then, he moved his hand as if he was pointing something to the ground. To my surprise, the king statue did the same motion simultaneously, because he had a baton. The edge of the baton summoned a lime green magic circle. It was pointed to the ground, just as Ara had motioned. “Want is the weed, crave is the tree. Those who seek, but do not gain, may feast at what is not theirs to keep.” By this time, all of the corpses (read: zombies) looked at me, and started to chase after me. I was like a freelance yakuza being chased down by a clan. They were everywhere, and the area is infinitely large. I seriously don’t know how or where to run. I kicked and stepped over and punched and push the zombies in my way, letting go the ones who tried to grab me, and still struggling to get them off my sight. However, it was futile; I was clearly outnumbered, with the fact that their source of power was their strong sense of avarice.

“Ara! Help me!” I plead for help, but I instantly realized that it was useless—this was not the Ara I know of since I entered 9th grade. “Me? Help you? OH, ridiculously preposterous!” He let out a sadistic laugh as I am starting to become hopeless by the massive amount of corpses that are grasping me in all parts of my body, like being sucked into a quicksand of bodies. I had learnt to loathe that laugh. When I was totally hopeless by their strength, they suddenly brought me until I was at arm’s length with Ara. “Well, since I am among the number who sought after souls as well, the humble and just king has given me the priority to go first.” He approached me, placed a hand on my chest, and started to mutter something. Oh no, I said to myself in anguish. Is this going to be his killer move? And it was right. Suddenly, this sensation feels that something is forced out from my body with ever-so-tormenting pain, in the heart and the whole of the body. It’s as if your life essences are sucked from your body, and transferred to him through you heart. Your heart has great trouble properly, therefore oxygen isn’t delivered to all parts of your body properly; your brain suddenly feels dizzy and cloudy, you whole blood circulation is in chaos; it’s so painful that you can’t even solve one plus one. “Ara….” I tried to shout in my mind. All I could remember was that my soul was in the form of that same white light that appeared before. But Ara used another hand that emitted a dark, polarizing glow that tried to keep the light from getting really bright. Now I learned why that white light was the only way out of those realms. Then those flashbacks started playing on my head, even thought I was on the verge of complete separation from body and soul. I remembered when we were both assigned to the same class at the start of 9th grade, and then our first time playing Dance Dance Revolution together, and when I helped Ara to confess to a girl that he likes, playing baseball with him every Sunday, and especially on his birthday, when I gave him a handcrafted kendo stick he always wanted. Ah, those days….they could even jerk tears on my eye, reminiscing about them. But it’s all too late now, I was being betrayed by my closest friend for his own purposes, and now I hopelessly submitted to his desires… “So this is to be my end, Ara… I cannot do anything to stop you…” “I have been faithful to you, and this is your gift of appreciation?” “Wake up to your senses…what would you be if I didn’t existed? Who would you turn to in times of need? Who else is better qualified for my position?” “Who?” “Urusai, okama,” I hear him say very harshly as he ordered a zombie to slap me really hard. And now he’s treating me like this. “Anything more to say, bakeru?” He said as he almost completed his process. As the last of my life energies are sucked away, I gathered my last mental strength to say, “No matter who you became or do, I will always be your friend…Goodbye…” As the world turned a dark grey, the dark light suppressor couldn’t hold out the brightness of the light, and it began to disturb Ara’s concentration, so he let his guard down for a moment, but it was enough to make him even more disturbed until he failed to suck my energies out. He was engulfed by the violently shimmering light that originated from my chest. Then, the light spread to all directions, to the zombies, and the big king statue. The zombies were the fastest to be seared and dissipated by this light, continued

with Ara, whose aura had faded away. Then finally, the king had crumbled into grains, and the scene was, as usual, white. When I had gained consciousness, the scenery had changed. The clusters of graves that reek of death were no more, and so is that king statue; it was replaced by beautiful flowers that gathered up in so many different colors that brought life to the prairie. Beside me and on the horizon, I could see a proper burial site that is lined up neatly and the tombstones were decorated beautifully, with in memorandum bouquets of flowers placed beside them. They all bear the same old inscription that almost became a cliché—Rest in Peace. Moments later, I could see figures of people with wings. They were angels, male and female. The male had the most handsome features a man could have, blond hair, upright faces and blue, sharp eyes. They were wearing magnificent robes of gold and white with hoods. Their wings were big, majestic, and they flapped ever so mightily. The women also wore robes of the same color, but their wings were a bit smaller and more feminine, graciously and elegantly flapping. It was a beautiful sight to behold, just like Kiyomi’s new world. There appeared another king statue made our of stone, but this time, he was wearing ordinary clothes, and is posed as if he is giving a sermon to the people, Although his appearance might look normal, you have this feeling that this is how a king should really act to his people. Then I saw Ara. He was wearing an angel’s robe too, but the only difference is that the colors are a magnificent brown and platinum, adorned with red and blue jewels around the collar. He was no longer craving or desiring anymore—he was satisfied. “Yoshio? Is that you?” He asked with his same tone he uses everyday. Silently thanking the gods that he has returned to his normal self, I replied slowly, “Darn right you are…..” Ara looked around his surroundings, and then to himself. He then unleashed a big bear hug on me. “Thank you, bro…I was a fool to let my patience run out….thanks for reminding me…” He said. “Yep, my pleasure,” I replied as I patted his back. Moments later, some of the angels had set flight towards the endless blue sky. One by one they started to go up and be free in the vast sky up above. “You going up there too, Ara?” I said. “Yeah. See ya then, I guess?” He asked kind of confused. “Yeah, anytime, then. Bye,” I said as I waved at Ara, my best buddy flapped his wings with passion as he soared out into the open blue. I watched him go up with a face full of hope and joy, free from the weights of avarice and desires. “Yoshio!? Hey? Yoshio!? Wake up!” I suddenly heard my mother voice interrupting. I opened my eyes. I was back at the cemetery. “Yoshio, for how long do you want to talk to your ancestors? You’ve been there for half an hour, you know! Let’s go to grandma’s house,” she said as she went first to the car. Standing in front of the grave, I attained enlightenment. On how the power of bonds can be so powerful that is, not the kind Siddhartha Gautama had.