couldn’t risk making a lot of noise and possibly catching the eye of a passerby.
I was in a hurry, so I don’t think it took me more than thirty seconds, all told.
I covered the nails with the can, then hurried back to the telephone pole, where Asahina awaited. We then found a darker place a bit farther away in which to hide.
So what was going to happen? I was really interested to see what effect this prank was supposed to have.
I didn’t have to wait long. It was 6:14.
Opposite the street from where we hid, a male-looking silhouette came walking along at a leisurely pace. I could tell he was wearing a long coat and carrying a shoulder bag. He didn’t seem to notice us.
He seemed to be looking down as he walked. He didn’t seem particularly cheerful. Suddenly, he stopped. He was looking directly at the empty can.
“Haah…”
I heard a sigh. Just when I was wondering if he were the type to take offense at litter, he lined up a kick (with perfect form) and directed it with all his strength at the can.
Of course, the can did not go sailing between a pair of notional goal posts; in fact, it didn’t move from its position at all—
“Gah—?! Aaaaugh!”
The man clutched his foot and fell to the ground.
“What the hell?! Ugh, it hurts!”
He was literally rolling around on the ground, apparently in intense agony.
“Crap, who—who did this? Owwww…”
Asahina and I looked at each other.
Had this been the objective?
Who knew?
We had a silent exchange of glances, then nodded in unison and emerged from the darkness, walking along the path as though just happening to pass by.
“Are you all right?” Asahina asked of the man, who lay face up, holding his foot in his hands. I casually stood next to Asahina, looking down at the man, who continued to groan.
“Huh?”
The face was distorted with pain, and I didn’t recognize it; he was a slender man in his twenties. Underneath his long coat, he wore a suit and tie, and he looked like a regular working stiff.
“Do you need a hand?” I said, my conscience torturing itself.
“Uh… yeah, thanks.” The man took my hand and stood, wincing as he stood on his other foot. “Crap, who would pull a childish prank like this?”
“Yeah, terrible, huh?” I squatted down and picked up the can. It had a huge dent in it. The nails had been knocked diagonal too. The guy had really taken a serious shot. “Geez, that’s dangerous.”
I tried to sound plausible as I pulled the nails out of the ground. Thanks to the man’s kick, they came out pretty easily. I slipped the nails in my pocket to conceal the evidence.
The man raised a lowered leg several times, each time wincing and clucking his tongue. “What a pain. Doesn’t seem like it’s broken, though… maybe I twisted my ankle?”
“Um,” said Asahina. “Maybe you should go to the hospital?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The man hopped toward the edge of the automotive-traffic-bearing road, teetering dangerously as he approached.
“Here, lean on my shoulder,” I said, coming alongside him so he wouldn’t fall over. “Shall we call an ambulance?”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll call a cab. Don’t want to make too big a deal out of this. I hate to ask, but could you help me over to the main road?”
“Sure, of course.” No matter the reason, this was my fault, after all. I really wanted to apologize.
The man held on to my shoulder as he hopped along. From what I could tell by the light of the streetlights, he seemed pretty good-looking.
“I’m kind of at a dead end at my job,” he said apologetically, as we were midway through crossing the street. “It’s my own faultfor thinking that kicking a can would help me clear my head. I got what I deserve.”
“No, I really think it’s the fault of whatever jerk set the prank up.”
“Yeah, I guess. What kind of nasty little kid still does that kind of thing?”
He looked back and forth between Asahina and me, who was
I was in a hurry, so I don’t think it took me more than thirty seconds, all told.
I covered the nails with the can, then hurried back to the telephone pole, where Asahina awaited. We then found a darker place a bit farther away in which to hide.
So what was going to happen? I was really interested to see what effect this prank was supposed to have.
I didn’t have to wait long. It was 6:14.
Opposite the street from where we hid, a male-looking silhouette came walking along at a leisurely pace. I could tell he was wearing a long coat and carrying a shoulder bag. He didn’t seem to notice us.
He seemed to be looking down as he walked. He didn’t seem particularly cheerful. Suddenly, he stopped. He was looking directly at the empty can.
“Haah…”
I heard a sigh. Just when I was wondering if he were the type to take offense at litter, he lined up a kick (with perfect form) and directed it with all his strength at the can.
Of course, the can did not go sailing between a pair of notional goal posts; in fact, it didn’t move from its position at all—
“Gah—?! Aaaaugh!”
The man clutched his foot and fell to the ground.
“What the hell?! Ugh, it hurts!”
He was literally rolling around on the ground, apparently in intense agony.
“Crap, who—who did this? Owwww…”
Asahina and I looked at each other.
Had this been the objective?
Who knew?
We had a silent exchange of glances, then nodded in unison and emerged from the darkness, walking along the path as though just happening to pass by.
“Are you all right?” Asahina asked of the man, who lay face up, holding his foot in his hands. I casually stood next to Asahina, looking down at the man, who continued to groan.
“Huh?”
The face was distorted with pain, and I didn’t recognize it; he was a slender man in his twenties. Underneath his long coat, he wore a suit and tie, and he looked like a regular working stiff.
“Do you need a hand?” I said, my conscience torturing itself.
“Uh… yeah, thanks.” The man took my hand and stood, wincing as he stood on his other foot. “Crap, who would pull a childish prank like this?”
“Yeah, terrible, huh?” I squatted down and picked up the can. It had a huge dent in it. The nails had been knocked diagonal too. The guy had really taken a serious shot. “Geez, that’s dangerous.”
I tried to sound plausible as I pulled the nails out of the ground. Thanks to the man’s kick, they came out pretty easily. I slipped the nails in my pocket to conceal the evidence.
The man raised a lowered leg several times, each time wincing and clucking his tongue. “What a pain. Doesn’t seem like it’s broken, though… maybe I twisted my ankle?”
“Um,” said Asahina. “Maybe you should go to the hospital?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
The man hopped toward the edge of the automotive-traffic-bearing road, teetering dangerously as he approached.
“Here, lean on my shoulder,” I said, coming alongside him so he wouldn’t fall over. “Shall we call an ambulance?”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’ll call a cab. Don’t want to make too big a deal out of this. I hate to ask, but could you help me over to the main road?”
“Sure, of course.” No matter the reason, this was my fault, after all. I really wanted to apologize.
The man held on to my shoulder as he hopped along. From what I could tell by the light of the streetlights, he seemed pretty good-looking.
“I’m kind of at a dead end at my job,” he said apologetically, as we were midway through crossing the street. “It’s my own faultfor thinking that kicking a can would help me clear my head. I got what I deserve.”
“No, I really think it’s the fault of whatever jerk set the prank up.”
“Yeah, I guess. What kind of nasty little kid still does that kind of thing?”
He looked back and forth between Asahina and me, who was
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