Chapter 21: Kenji’s Past Part 1

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Translator: Soafp

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[Kenji PoV]

I moved into this town when I was 7 years old, with my mother, Ayame Tanaka, and my father, Kaito Tanaka, during the summer.

Despite being a blend of both my parents’ traits, I seemed to inherit more of my mother’s features than my father’s. Like her, I had inherited her blond hair, which was a rarity in our family lineage.

My eyes, too, mirrored hers, with a similar shade of honey that seemed to reflect the warmth and kindness she exuded.

However, I also bore some resemblance to my father, particularly in the shape of my ears and the color of my eyes.

Our family dynamic was one of closeness and joy. Even during the chaos of unpacking boxes and arranging furniture, there was always laughter echoing through the halls.

My parents made sure to create a welcoming atmosphere, turning our house into a home filled with love and warmth.

As the summer days passed by, my excitement grew at the thought of starting school in our new town.

However, alongside the anticipation, there lingered a hint of nervousness. The idea of being the new kid in class filled me with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Finally, the day arrived when I would step into my new classroom for the first time. Standing outside the door, my heart raced with anticipation as I waited for the teacher to call my name.

“Takana-kun, you can come in.”

The teacher’s voice rang out.

Summoning up my courage, I pushed open the door and entered the classroom. The air was filled with the sound of chatter and desks being shuffled into place as I made my way to the front of the room.

“Hello everyone. My name is Kenji Tanaka. I just moved here recently with my family, and I’m really looking forward to getting to know all of you. I hope we can become good friends.”

With a bow, I finished my introduction, hoping that my new classmates would welcome me with open arms.

As I glanced around the classroom, I could feel the eyes of my new classmates upon me, some curious, others indifferent. The teacher, a kind-faced woman, nodded encouragingly from her desk at the front of the room.

A few moments passed in silence before a boy with a mischievous grin and bright eyes spoke up from his seat near the back of the room.

It was my first encounter with him, and he exuded an aura of friendliness and warmth that instantly put me at ease.

“Hey there, Takana-kun! I’m Ryota Ken. Welcome to our class!”

His friendly greeting and infectious enthusiasm immediately made a positive impression on me, and I couldn’t help but return his smile.

“Thank you, Ken-kun. It’s nice to meet you.”

Soon, other students began introducing themselves, each sharing a bit about their hobbies and interests. Despite my initial apprehension, I found myself gradually relaxing as the class atmosphere became more welcoming, thanks in no small part to Ryota’s friendly demeanor.

After the introductions, the teacher began the day’s lessons, and I eagerly immersed myself in the activities, grateful for the distraction from my nerves.

The initial hurdle of introducing myself to my new classmates was behind me, and I was starting to feel more at ease in my new environment.

As the day progressed, I found myself genuinely enjoying being in school. Ryota’s easygoing nature and the friendly interactions with my classmates helped me feel more at home.

I joined in on class discussions, participated in group activities, and even found myself laughing along with jokes shared during breaks.

Before I knew it, the final bell of the day rang, signaling the end of classes. Surprisingly, the day had passed by in a blur of excitement and learning.

As I gathered my belongings and prepared to head home, I couldn’t help but reflect on how much fun I had experienced on my first day at this new school.

“See you tomorrow, Tanaka-kun.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, Ken-kun.”

Days flew by, and my bond with Ryota deepened as we spent countless hours together after school.

Whether we were playing outside in the park, exploring the neighborhood, or indulging in our favorite pastime at the arcade, my days were filled with laughter and adventure, all thanks to Ryota’s friendship.

A few months passed and December 15th approached. I couldn’t contain my excitement. It was my birthday, a special occasion I had been eagerly anticipating.

Birthdays in our family were always celebrated with great joy, and this year was no exception. My parents had planned a family outing to my favorite restaurant, a tradition I cherished deeply.

As we sat at the table, enjoying our meal and each other’s company, my mother reached into her bag and pulled out a beautifully wrapped gift.

“Here, Kenji. This is a gift from me,”

She said, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.

With eager hands, I hastily unwrapped the gift, my curiosity piqued. As the wrapping fell away, I couldn’t help but gasp in delight at what lay before me.

Inside the wrapping lay a colorful box adorned with ribbons and bows. With eager anticipation, I tore away the paper to reveal a board game nestled within.

My eyes widened with excitement as I recognized it—a popular adventure board game I had been eyeing for weeks.

“Oh, Mom! This is awesome! Thank you so much!”

I exclaimed, unable to contain my delight.

My mother’s eyes twinkled with joy as she watched my reaction.

“I’m glad you like it, Kenji. I thought it would be perfect for you and Ryota to enjoy together.”

I nodded enthusiastically, remembering the countless times Ryota had come over to our house to play. His easy laughter and boundless energy always filled our home with warmth and excitement.

“This is great!”

I already picturing the fun-filled game we would have together.

With a wide grin, I hugged my mother tightly, feeling grateful for her thoughtful gift. The board game represented not just a present, but countless hours of fun and laughter shared with my friend and family.

As I looked around at the smiling faces of my loved ones, I knew that this birthday would be one to remember—a day filled with happiness, friendship, and the simple joy of being together.

I had a wonderful time, I wished this would last forever.

Two years had passed, yet little had changed in my life. Ryota and I had grown even closer, evolving from mere friends to inseparable best buddies.

We now addressed each other by our given names, a sign of the deep bond we shared.

As my 10th birthday approached, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity. It was like any other birthday, filled with anticipation and excitement.

The memory of my 9th birthday, when I received a new bike, still lingered in my mind as a cherished moment.

Upon arriving home, I called out to announce my return.

“I’m home.”

My father’s response was subdued, lacking its usual warmth.

“…Welcome back, Kenji. Can you come to the kitchen?”

His voice carried an unusual weight, causing a knot of unease to form in my stomach. Ignoring the feeling, I made my way to the kitchen, where my father sat alone at the table.

“Where is Mom?”

“Sit down, Kenji. There is something I need to tell you.”

I took a seat as instructed, a sense of foreboding settling over me. I waited in silence for my father to continue, sensing the gravity of his words.

“…Kenji, your mother and I… are divorcing.”

The words hanging heavy in the air.

It felt like a punch to the gut, an unexpected blow that left me reeling with disbelief.

“W-Why?!”

I stammered, my mind struggling to comprehend the sudden revelation.

“…Because your mother loves another man and broke my trust.”

In that moment, the world around me seemed to blur as the weight of his words sank in.

The once familiar landscape of my life was now marred by uncertainty and upheaval, leaving me grasping for stability in the face of profound change.

My young mind couldn’t fully grasp the complexities of adult relationships, nor could I comprehend the depth of emotions that must have led to this decision. All I knew was that the foundation of my family, once solid and unshakeable, was now crumbling before my eyes.

It was my worst birthday ever.

Six months later, the divorce was settled. It was decided that I would live with my father while my mother would pay child support. She had given up her parental rights and wouldn’t be in the picture anymore.

The days that followed were filled with a mix of emotions—sadness, anger, and confusion. Both my father and I were reeling from the upheaval of our family, grappling with the loss of my mother and the shattered dreams of what our family once was.

During the divorce proceedings, I did my best to conceal my feelings from others, hoping to shield them from the turmoil within our family. But once the divorce was finalized, everything changed drastically.

My father, burdened by the weight of his newfound responsibilities and drowning in his sorrows, turned to alcohol as a means of escape.

Yet, instead of finding solace, he spiraled deeper into despair. In his drunken stupor, he lashed out in rage, hurling insults and objects at me, his own son.

The bottles he once used to numb his pain became weapons of destruction, inflicting bruises and scars that I hid from the world.

His descent into alcoholism cost him his job, leaving us dependent on the meager child support payments to sustain our fractured existence.

With each passing day, the once loving and caring father I knew disappeared, replaced by a volatile and abusive stranger.

I endured the abuse in silence, masking my pain with lies and excuses, afraid to reveal the truth to anyone.

But one day, as I sat battered and broken on our doorstep, Ryota appeared and saw me crying. He knew something happened but didn’t pry deeper.

He dragged me to the arcade, to the park, and engaged me in games and stories, determined to bring back the joy that had been stolen from me.

Despite my reluctance, Ryota persisted in his efforts to lift my spirits.

Even as Ryota continued to lift my spirits with his unwavering support, the shadow of my father’s abuse lingered, casting a pall over my life. Desperate for a way to protect myself, I sought refuge in the community center, where self-defense classes offered a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

With each passing week of training, I grew more adept at defending myself, honing my skills until I could fend off my father’s drunken attacks without sustaining bruises.

His inebriated state often worked to my advantage, as his lack of balance and coordination made it easier to evade his blows.

Despite the turmoil at home, Ryota remained a constant source of positivity in my life.

His presence brought light to even the darkest of days, and his efforts to cheer me up gradually helped to lift the heavy burden of sadness that had weighed me down for so long.

As I gained confidence in my ability to protect myself, my father’s abuse began to wane. His violent outbursts were replaced by a numb resignation, as he retreated into the depths of his alcohol-induced haze, seeking solace in oblivion.

With Ryota’s unwavering support and my newfound strength, I finally found happiness, gradually overcoming the loss of my mother.

The sadness that had once gripped my heart began to fade, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and resilience.

For that, I owed Ryota a debt of gratitude.

He stood by me during my darkest and most challenging times, offering a beacon of light in the midst of despair. It is thanks to him that I stand here today, stronger and more resilient than ever before.

As time flew by, a year had passed, and I found myself able to smile again, the heaviness in my heart gradually lifting. One morning, as I walked my usual path to school, I spotted Ryota ahead.

I approached him with a smile and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Good morning, Ryota.”

He turned around, his expression exhausted.

“…Oh, Kenji. Good morning…”

“Ryota, you look like you haven’t slept all night. Did something happen?”

“…My mother has b****t cancer and is in the hospital.”