Outstanding

The pavement under Wada's feet was hot. Hot as hell, the hell that his whole life had become. It had been the last straw last night. He was meant to be here, walking this hot path to the school of his childhood, the meat cleaver handle smooth in his hand. He had never felt so at peace with himself, so much so that he wished he would never get there. If he could just walk for the rest of his life like this with this purpose and such acute intent, in this unyielding heat, he would. What he would do when he got to the school suddenly didn't matter. The logistics of hiding a meat cleaver from view on a hot summer's day was a problem at first, but he had the yellow and blue plaid summer shirt he'd forgotten about in his bureau drawer. It was perfect. The wide blade which tapered off to a sharp point felt cool and smooth through the undershirt he was wearing. He wished that he could feel the knife against his skin and not through the shirt. It was so soothing, the feel of cool steel. He found comfort in hard cool surfaces maybe because it was a reflection of what he thought he was; hard, cool and cold, driven to it by hurt and hate. The hate was a result of the hurt. He knew that more than anything. These days everything he did involved hurt all caused by other people and which led him to feel the most intense and searing hate. It is true, the physical hurt happened a long time ago, but it was the basis for everything in his life. But the hate had gone on and on even since the after school torture sessions tapered off. He knew he was despicable and fully unlovable. His own mother had sat with him at their little round dinning table for every breakfast and dinner since he could remember never smiling never even looking at him. She wouldn't ever even read the magazine she always had opened in front of her. She must have picked him up and held him as a baby, there must have been a time when she touched him, but it was outside the reaches of his memory. His childhood consisted of whole oceans of loneliness. His energy was all used up surviving the physical abuse from his peers that the lonely silences stretching out into forever at home became his haven. His mother's slight hand holding some dish or another and placing it down in front of him was the closest to affection he knew. But the silence did nothing for the turmoil in his mind which remained their causing havoc, killing his soul in ways he wasn't even aware of.
But he knew he had been irrevocably wronged. How dare people carried on normally with their lives after what they'd done to him! He had paid dearly and nobody even noticed. Now someone else was going to pay, someone must pay. He thought he could do better after finishing school. Something needed to go right. But the turmoil in him never subsided. Every job he did ended with the cold cruel knife of reality driven into his soul, they laughed at him or gave him strange looks, twisting it until he couldn't breathe and he had to leave.
He gasped when the school came into view. He stopped to get his breath. This was the only way he would ever get any peace. He bended slightly over the knife and for a second considered plunging it into his throat. But he straightened and his feet moved him forwards as though guided by some unseen force. He was on his way.

Nancy considered walking into the classroom to give Yuki his instructions on getting into the house but decided to wait when she realized most of the mothers were congregating outside. The kids were finished their lessons for the day, the last being this math class over measurements, and were milling around getting their things ready to go home. Nancy was glad this class was over, the heat was oppressive and she ached to sit down. As soon as the kids cleared out, the parents could move in and sit at their child's desk. Mothers stood around fanning themselves, many deep into some discussion or another, a couple of them peering into the room and waving to their son or daughter or just staring off onto space. She thought she would join the latter in their staring off into space just as soon as she got herself situated in a spot where she wasn't so conspicuous. This was difficult, being at least a head above the others and the only obvious foreigner around. But she settled in up against a wall sandwiched in between two other mothers, one who greeted her with a nod and another who ignored her. She always made a bet with herself as to how many greetings she would get this time at these parent observation days. Although she knew none of her son's classmate's parents, she was acutely aware of how they reacted to her and she reacted, in turn, in accordance. It was much like a game which sometimes she felt she wasn't up to playing. But today a bright cheerful mother had greeted her as she trudged up the steps to the classroom which she returned just as brightly and cheerfully. It had lightened her mood, and made her wonder, as always, why she didn't have any friends here. Then she would smile or greet someone who ignored her and the feeling would even out. Who needed friends here any way! Nancy would never know what other people were thinking she could only keep her own nose clean.
Nancy had been off in her little area of space thinking in fact of what she would cook for dinner tonight when a mother she didn't recognize sidled up to her as though they might be conspiring in some plot to take over the classroom together and whispered loudly, 'I hear Yuki is going to America soon!'
Nancy nodded enthusiastically to that woman while her big summer tote bag brushed against the unfriendly woman on her other side when she shifted to face the other. Nancy turned and smiled ingratiatingly apologizing as she did so. Her apology was met with stony silence causing her to raise her voice just a bit and add an extra cheerful decibel as she addressed the question for the sake of the snobby woman whom she found irritating. 'Oh yes, we'll be going next month.' She was secretly pleased and amused that her son had told his friends and word had gotten around. He was obviously looking forward to this trip as much as she was.
'My Azusa told me he was going to go to America to study!'
She said this so earnestly and innocently that Nancy had to hold her laugh down to a chuckle. She assumed the woman meant to study English, which made her want to laugh out loud. Yuki could actually use English lessons but all that was to come naturally, putting him in the right environment was what he needed. Nobody seemed to understand how important that was, living English was worth a hundred times of what any class room could teach him. 'Actually we'll be visiting relatives mostly, but I do hope he gets something out of it!'
She nodded, oblivious to any humor in the situation and they turned their attention to the children who had started trickling out of the classroom. She caught the unmistakable back of Yuki's head, light brown with red tinted hair, bobbing up and down as he played roughly with another little boy from his class out in the hall. There was just enough time to give him the instructions to get in the house that the key would be in the usual place and to get homework over with before he started playing. She moved out of the cramped desk area as smooth as possible managing not to cause too much of a disturbance and went to her son hastily meaning to talk to him quietly and return to the desk promptly.
A colorful shirt, yellow and blue plaid caught her eye coming from way down at the other end of the hall. She had been about to stoop down to Yuki's level when curiosity got the better of her. Who was wearing such bright colors? The fact that it was a man was even more intriguing. Although the hot summer heat precipitated a handful of daring mothers to bare there arms in public, colors worn by the mothers remained demure so that what one wears to watch ones child for an hour of the odd summer day at school, was as uniform as everything in this country. Dads were uniform too and Nancy couldn't take her eyes from this one practically lumbering down the hall. If he was in fact a father of one of the students here he must be lost or¦ Something was amiss. Yuki was left to rough house his way down the hall to the entrance of the stairwell where the man had entered Nancy's vision. The feeling of relief for Yuki getting around that man and on his way out of the school was odd. She would not take her eyes off of that shirt.
Nancy saw the man draw nearer like he was encumbered by a great weight with sweat pouring from his face as though he had been running a marathon. His breath came in pants and Nancy felt the alarm he caused her sweep over her like an enveloping tidal wave. For a moment their eyes met and Nancy understood that she must follow him for there was something far more disturbing in his eyes than she could at this moment fathom, much less put into words.
As she faced his deceivingly cheerfully brightly colored back he teetered for just one moment before walking through the doors of Yuki's classroom, suddenly exuding purpose and ease, confusing Nancy. She moved, drawn like a magnet to him, only three steps behind.

Once Wada entered the room his muscles let loose their tightly wound spring and acquiesced to his will enabling him to draw the knife out from under his shirt in one smooth movement. He focused on nothing but the sheer will to destroy something or anyone who had any connection to the enormous pain he had born all these years which had originated right here in this room, he was sure. He no longer staggered but lifted the knife high above his head gripping it with both hands meaning to plunge it down, down into the bowls of the monster which now claimed him body and soul. It was his intention, but something hindered his progress.

Nancy leapt to him with her arms up high landing so her body was up next to his and her hands gripped his upper arms right below the wrist so that his downward plunge with the knife was caught in its initiation. She bent arching her back bringing his arms and the knife back over her own head so that for a moment, to a few of the mothers, they looked like a couple bowed in an absurd dance. It was as though time stopped while they tumbled; Wada onto and Nancy onto the desk behind them where a frightened mother silently propelled herself as far from the chair she vacated as possible, before the weight of two adults came crashing down on the desk pushing the desk scraping across the floor. The angle at which they fell caused them to flip over rolling from the desk to the floor. Nancy still gripping the arms, landed this time, on top of him. As if an afterthought, the knife fell to the floor with a double thump as the handle bounced against the floor. Still clinging fast to Wada's arms, Nancy lifted her head so that she would not have her face in Wada's neck and in effect nuzzle him with it. 'Help me' she croaked first in English then with more conviction in Japanese. She didn't want to let go of the arms which had wielded the knife and she did not want to straddle a total stranger who was a man, and who could perhaps over come her and ' To her consternation tears started streaming down her cheeks and finally two men came from either side grabbing Wada, each by the arm. Trembling, Nancy disengaged herself from the imposter. As she further lifted herself from him, quivering tears slipped from her face and mixed with the shimmering sweat glistening there on the exposed area of Wada's neck, as he lay motionless.