That was how I found myself, carrying the few belongings that I had brought, dirtied and lost at the train station at the end of the line. I had dozed off for a few hours, emotionally exhausted, and when I reached into my bag for my phone to check the time, my fingers brushed against an unexpected bundle of papers. It was a small bunch of spending money and a card, wrapped and covered with a short note. 

Be safe wherever you go, Hanzou. We won’t hold you back, but we want to make sure that you’ll manage on your own. Although you have always hated taking from us, please make use of this card. The account is already registered. If you aren’t too busy, please make a call every now and then. We’ll always be waiting to hear from you. Love, Mom and Dad.

For the first time I could remember, I had cried that night, and consequently lost a bit of confidence in myself. When I could finally gather up my courage, I repacked my bag and headed out of the train station towards the nearest motel I could find, and let the night take over. 

In those first disorienting days, I had spent my time searching for a job I could undertake, and a place where I could stay. It took a while, but eventually I found through an advertisement board a small, run-down apartment complex that still had rooms open for cheap. The room I rented was incredibly narrow and had the bare necessities for living, but it was a place I had to myself. The walls were thin, and the water cold, but I was content. That was the home I had spent the last two years living in, and it was my safe space, along with the gasoline station where I found my first job. 

* * *

On a day in late spring where the breeze gently pushed me to and fro along the path that I walked to return to my apartment from work, I received a call from my parents. It was rare that we contacted each other, and even more so for them to be the ones making the call. I tensed up, my fingers shaking a little as I answered the call, bringing the phone up to my ear.

“...Hello?”

I stood in silence for a while, the sound of my mother’s voice ringing in the air. It had been a long time.

“Hanzou? Are you there?”

“...Yes, I’m listening.”

“Oh!” my mother replied, her tone brimming with relief. “I’m so glad you picked up, Hanzou. How have you been?”

We exchanged a series of greetings, which was rather more of my mother asking questions and me responding briefly, but it went alright. I wondered at the intent she had in making a call so suddenly at a seemingly random time. 

“You know, your father and I, we wanted to ask if you have been considering going to university,” she stated at last. “It isn’t a bad time now to do so.”

Ah… so that was why. I didn’t know what to say in response. “Well, I… haven’t really thought of it.” 

“Yes, that’s alright,” she reassured, “we just thought we could bring it up so you can think about it from now on.”

She continued, “Hanzou, I’m aware that high school was difficult for you, and that that might be holding you back from returning to school. We won’t force you to do anything against your will, but I do want you to know that university is rather different from high school, and that you may learn and experience new things you’ve never thought of before.”

She paused for a moment before adding, “When you think of your future, I hope that you will see progression towards a more positive place. I hope that… you don’t think you will forever be bound by your past.”

I let myself dwell on those words for a while, writing and rewriting the meaning inside my mind. Me too, I thought, I hope that that could be true too. But I’m not so sure that that is the case. My head, as usual, was filled with doubts, but I didn’t find it necessary to expound them to my mother. After that short moment of contemplation, I only replied, “I’ll think about it.”

Although I could not see her, my mother seemed to respond with a smile as she stated, “I see. If you do decide to try it out, don’t forget that the entrance exams are in January. You still have plenty of time, so don’t worry too much either. Please let us know if there is anything you need. As always, take care, Hanzou. We love you.” 

I could not bring myself to answer the final line adequately, and ended up hanging up after a short affirmation and a quiet “Thanks.” Even though it was not the first time my parents told me that they cared for me, I still found it hard to place trust in their words. Each time, I could only remember all the times in the past where they looked at me in fear and dismay, and when they tried to keep me away from my then-newly born younger sister. Occasionally, my mind was also haunted by a brief image of that day I spoke to Ono, when I learned that the people I had sincerely trusted and cared for had never really reciprocated those feelings. At those thoughts, I was left with a bitter taste in my mouth, and a sudden urge to punch something. I rushed home, trying to distract myself from the black that was slowly creeping into my mind.

Remember the gasoline, Hanzou. Breathe it in. You have to keep it in.

I made it back to my apartment safely that day, but when I woke up the next morning, I was forced to come to terms with the ceramic shards of shattered plates that lay littered across the floor.