“What do you think your coach would say if he found out you were in here wailing on my brother?” I asked once I was back to standing.
The American looked scared, but Yoshi and Jake just exchanged smirks.
“Our coach is in his office now, pretending he does not hear,” Jake answered in the only faintly accented English he’d been so proud to show off when he first met my brother and me. “He will not do anything. Just like you will not say anything to anyone about what happened here today.”
“You think I’m going to let you keep on hurting him like this?” I widen what I can only hope is both eyes at Jake. My left one is throbbing so bad; I can't be sure it's not on its way to swelling shut.
“Are you threatening me?” Jake took a step forward, his fists balled at his sides.
“Dawn, just shut up. Please!”
Jake and I looked toward the lockers where Byron was standing, one hand holding his stomach. He was bent over at the waist now that no one was forcing him to stand up straight to take another hit.
But he lifted his head to plead with Jake. “Don't hurt her. It's not her fault. This is all on me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
My brother was apologizing? Saying it was all on him? I was one of the three people who knew what really happened last term. And what Byron was saying was total BS.
But Jake glared at my brother like he couldn’t agree more with his admission of guilt.
“You better make sure she keeps her mouth shut,” he said to Byron. Then he looked back at me and shook his head like I was a roach who had found its way into the boys’ locker room. “Tell your father hello for me, won't you, Dawn-senpai. I appreciate how hard he works for our family. But you should know, our guards rarely quit. They are almost always disposed of when we are done with them.”
Usually, I loved the honorifics Japanese students use, even with each other. But my stomach filled with bile as Jake called me by an upperclassman honorific right before he low-key threatened my father.
And I felt like throwing up when Jake and his friends walked past me, all three smirking because they were so clearly going to get away with beating up my brother.
I didn't want to give them any more of Byron’s dignity than they'd already taken. That was the only reason I waited until they were gone from the locker room before running over to my brother.
“Ronny! Ronny! Are you okay?”
Byron shook his head and stood up straight with a pained wince. “I'm fine. You shouldn't have come in here.”
“I shouldn’t have come in here?” I repeated. “They shouldn't have ganged up on you three against one. They could've seriously hurt you.”
“Naw, I had it under control,” Byron insisted with another shake of his head.
What? Had they hit him in the head before I came in here? Was Byron concussed? Because obviously, “You don't have this under control! They could’ve done permanent damage, and then how would you be able to get a basketball scholarship?”
I reached out to rub his arm. “Ronny, I think it’s time to tell Dad.”
Byron knocked my hand away. “I thought you had a session with NTT Docomo today.”
NTT Docomo was what he called Victor. I wasn’t even sure he’d bothered to remember his real name. “You’re going to have to walk to the station by yourself. I still have to take a shower and get dressed.”
“I’ll wait,” I offered. Forget the surprise snacks. My appetite was totally gone. “What if Jake and his friends are waiting outside?”
“Just go! I don't need my sister to protect me.” Byron’s voice was strong at first, but it cracked on the last two words of his big declaration. And his entire face convulsed like he was trying not to cry.
He should've cried. I would've cried if I had been going through what Byron had all semester. But I knew he had Dad’s voice inside his head, telling him that wasn't how real men handled their business. That was why I couldn’t remember the last time I saw my brother cry.
“Okay,” I whispered. “I'll see you at home.”
Byron didn't answer, just snatched a towel out of the locker and walked away toward the showers. That was probably where he'd been headed before Jake and his boys jumped him.
I stood there after he left, feeling worse than useless.
I'd been so excited about moving here to Japan, the home of anime and manga. I knew my parents would never agree to let me go somewhere to pursue an art major, so three years in Japan seemed like the next best thing.
But Byron hadn't wanted to come here. Unlike me, he’d been popular at our school back in New Jersey. He was easily on track to getting a basketball scholarship by middle school. But that had all been ripped away from him, and he’d been forced to leave everything and everyone he'd ever known behind.
