Follow the T
This time McGonagall had had the decency to not slap Jouno across the face, though she had throughly chewed both he and Tecchou out.
It had taken her mere seconds to track them down as they had magically found their way out of the grimy streets. McGonagall had all but charged them on sight and dragged them away by their ears. Her sharp nails dug into Jouno’s skin as she lectured them for nearly an hour. Jouno had wanted to tell her to shut up, but the thought of becoming a human pin cushion kept his lips tightly sealed.
The long tirade blissfully ended eventually, and McGonagall grudgingly took them to some place she had called “Leaky Cauldron”. Jouno had mistakenly assumed they would be buying potion’s equipment. Instead, he found himself in the most foul-smelling bar had ever gotten the displeasure of entering. The place was positively packed. Drunken men who reeked of booze and sweat huddled together at tables, gambling away their savings, bellowing when they won their game. Jouno felt home.
The dingy place reminded of the dens of Yokohama slums, where cheap alcohol flooded the patron’s senses and gambling dens were both smoked filled rooms and alleyway corners. He could almost hear the gruff voices of the slum bastards at their usual tables, and the adrenaline that buzzed in rhythm with the clinking of dice.
A stumbling drunkard nearly knocked Jouno over, he mumbled an apology before making his way to another tabled. Tecchou bristled at the rowdy crowd.
McGonagall didn’t stop. She pushed her way through tables of laughing old men, veering towards a corner. Jouno weaved between chairs, deftly avoiding the drunks who all stopped Tecchou with childish glee. “Hello lad! You a first year!” They greeted, slapping the boy's shoulders and ruffling his hair. Jouno had the distinct pleasure of avoiding the same fate, his experienced feat gracefully dodging the grubby hands that tried to grab him.
At last, they reached a table in the far corner where the crowd seemed a little less thick. There sat a lone man who neither pounded on licker, nor filled is lungs with Tabacco fumes. Rather, in the disjointed cacophony of noises he seemed to read a book. Jouno could barely hear his breathy whisper among the loud voices that filled the bar.
He seemed too quiet, too weak. Yet, beneath this pitiful façade something lurked, just like the human scent under strong perfume of prostitutes, a shade of strength. Don’t come closer, it whispered.
And then the smell. The man must have laid in old garlic for weeks on end! Yet the odour seemed to try—and fail—to hide another. Putrid stink of decaying flesh, just like raw meat that had been left under the sun for the larva and flies. It was so pungent not even the garlic could hide it. At least not from Jouno.
“Professor Quirrell, these two are from our newest batch of students; Mr. Suehiro Tecchou, and Mr. Saigiku Jouno.”
Jouno raised a brow, but his smile remained fixed. Whoever had chosen this man to be a teacher seriously needed to learn to do proper background checks…there was something obviously wrong about this man.
Next to him, Techou tensed, his whole body going rigid. Even he could sense it. How did McGonagall not? Did something at the centre of her very being not cry out in warning? Nothing whispered to stay weary? Did she not feel the hairs on her neck stand on end? Perhaps wizards lacked instinct. But then how did Tecchou feel it?
But really, didn’t this odd man have some guts? —Quirrell was it? —McGonagall had introduced them to him, told him outright that they were his future students, yet not once did Jouno feel the man’s gaze upon him. Jouno gritted his teeth, his gums ached in his jaw, yet he simply smiled wider, hoping to seem perfectly polite, even if the frustration was beginning to bubble angrily.
“Professor Quirrell right? What do you teach?” He inquired and the man began to shift to look at him. Tecchou’s whole being recoiled in disbelief. However, just as the professor’s eyes were to land on Jouno, the door to the Leaky Cauldron flew open with a bang and an overgrown mass came stomping in. A set of much lighter steps followed, tough they were almost unintelligible next to the near earth-shaking stomps of the humongous man. Harry Potter, the crowd whispered in awe.
Quirrel rose at once. Jouno’s smile almost fell. Something deep in chest—God forbid his heart—reared its ugly head. It almost burned. Like an itch he could not scratch, something bone-deep that he needed to claw out. Jouno did not know why.
He did not know this man, but the indifference burned harder than any light upon his eyes. He wished to scream, to insult. Look at me. The thing in his chest demanded. Contempt and furry seemed to ooze from the cracks in his façade. Why? Why was Jouno’s mask cracking for this freak?
Jouno smiled, hiding every crack behind new layers of perfection. The Madame, that old hag, would be proud her lessons had not been lost on him. His body relaxed as he turned to an awestruck McGonagall who too was gawking about this Harry.
“How he’s grown…” she murmured, her breath taken away.
“I believe it is time to go.” He mused to break the older woman out of her stupor. He heard the slight rustle of fabric, McGonagall nodded distractedly, still watching this Harry child. “Yes, let us depart, boys.”
And with that they left. This Harry Potter person had caused a right show, and the bar was still alive with excitement. Jouno didn’t turn back as they made their exit. Tecchou rooted was besides him, his gaze still glued to the back of Quirrell’s head.
Leaving should have been no hard affair, as the crowd of drunkards had pushed forward to greet the boy, Harry Potter—the boy-who-lived, they called him—, leaving a wide berth to exit from.
As they left, another man bumped into Jouno, sending him crashing into a wobbly a table. Glass shattered but went unheard in the chaos of the bar. Jouno stepped on the scattered shards, listening to the satisfying crunch beneath his shoe.
“Watch where you're going, Mr. Saigiku”, McGonagall snapped. Jouno didn’t respond, only smirked to himself, revelling in the sensation of broken glass beneath him. It was unfixable. There was no returning the shattered remains to their former shape, and somehow, he found great joy in that.
The back door to the Leaky Cauldron closed with a faint creak, the cries of the old hinges were drowned out by still reeling crowd. It didn’t matter.
“I will be guiding you to the train station.” McGonagall said as she led them out into the streets, she sounded distracted. “We must hurry.”
Where will we be going now?” Tecchou suddenly inquired.
“Why you will be going to Hogwarts obviously. Have you lads not been informed? We are to take the train at eleven o-clock in the morning, which is in about two hours. Now come boys.”
Jouno startled. “Pardon?! I was not informed of this! I was told that we would be acquiring school supplies for the following year, never was there a talk about going to Hogwarts already!” Absentmindedly, he heard Tecchou rapidly nodding along.
“My instructor won’t be happy.” He spoke stearnly.
“Neither will the Madame.” And this was true. The Madame would be furious. No one took her toys away without paying up.
“While I apologise for this clear mishap, there is nothing we can possibly do. The train leaves today, Hogwarts does not allow for late arrivals.” McGonagall dismissed.
“A mishap? This is no simple mishap, Professor.” Jouno spat, but she ignored him and began walking. With no way back home, they were forced to fo along. Cat carrier in hand, and school supplies-filled suitcase trailing along, Jouno followed the elder witch through the streets of London, barely paying attention to the city noises. Tecchou and his owl in tow as they raced to the station.
He could not believe it. Dumbledore the old goat! He had arranged for Jouno to organise himself in less than a day, giving him no time to prepare and simply chucked him in wizarding society! This was no poor planning; this was plain sabotage!
He had no basics, no time to read his schoolbooks, no time to adjust to writing with a quill, no time to learn the culture and proper behaviour! That nasty, wretched, old man!
The train station was surprisingly empty when they arrived.
“Listen carefully, the both of you.” McGonagall started “To access the platform, you’ll need to walk directly at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Do not hesitate, and for Merlin’s sake, do not stop halfway, or you’ll make an absolute spectacle of yourselves. It may feel unnatural, but trust me, you won’t crash into it. Is that understood?"
Jouno had in fact not understood, however Tecchou’s confused noise made it clear that whatever she was talking about would not be pleasant. “I won’t follow you. Once you are through, hop onto the train and do not cause trouble. Change onto your school robes before arriving at Hogwarts.” She instructed. Tecchou nodded stiffly before audibly squaring his shoulders. His owl hooted a single time and Jouno’s cat hissed loudly.
The boy ran forward, a deafening noise echoed, like the maw of a beast swallowing an animal whole, and suddenly Tecchou was gone. Jouno could not hear him anymore.
Jouno gaped, trying to listen for the boy’s breathing but finding nothing.
“Go on Mr. Saigiku. Or are you perhaps waiting for an invitation?”
Simply bracing himself in front of something he could not see, Jouno ran forward, following into Tecchou’s steps as he felt himself passing through something. A warm hand landed on his shoulder, Jouno nearly broke its wrist.
“Did I scare you?” A monotone voice asked. Tecchou, Jouno recognised. Jouno brushed the hand away. “Let’s go.”
A tight grip closed around Jouno’s arm, he tried to shake it off, but surprisingly, the boy would not let go. Guided by Tecchou they roamed the empty platform and soon it was their turn to board the train. They aired through the straight corridor languidly, Jouno still simmering from Dumbledore’s backstabbing. They passed empty compartments one after the other but found a compartment at the very back that he liked enough.
Jouno slammed the door into Tecchou’s face, he smirked as he heard the crash of wood against Tecchou’s skull. With a long sigh he let himself fall upon the bench. The old thing creaked dangerously but did not budge. What a day. Jouno mused. It had been long, too long. He had left home for a simple shopping trip. Now he was stuck here-far from Yokohama-for the lengthy period of a school year. He hadn’t gotten any of his affairs in order. Why had no one told him this? This was quite the BIG and IMPORTANT information to simply overlook.
But Tecchou seemed unfazed. He only remarked on the old bench. “You shouldn’t do that… It might break.”
Jouno shot him a glare.
“I think the bench is old and fragile, and you might be too heavy.”
Jouno smirked inwardly. “So, you are calling me fat.”
“No.” Jouno knew for a fact that he was in no way ‘fat’. In truth anyone could tell he was probably severely underweight. The Madame would never have had one of her dolls putting on weight. She wanted them all dainty and slim, as per the client’s demands.
“I’ll let you know that I am as weightless as a feather, and slim enough to pass through any crack, should I wish to!” He faked indignation.
“Yes. You’re small and pretty like girl.”
Jouno’s cat made a dissatisfied noise. “You call me fat, then you call me girly?” Tecchou stayed quiet, Jouno took it as an unspoken ‘yes’. Another beat of silence, empty train eerily noiseless as they stared at one another.
The silence that followed was thick, yet almost comforting. Jouno huddled on his bench, wrapping his arms around his knees as he leaned his head onto the cool glass of the windows. His hand went under the bench, pushing his luggage in order to grab something to occupy himself. He paused when his fingers brushed against the clear indent of letter etched into the wood. «T.M.R. was here» was scralwed under the bench, like a claim lade upon by a fellow student long ago. A proof that at some point, they had been sitting here.
Neither boy spoke for a while, at some point, Jouno had taken out his schoolbooks. He had planned to read ahead, initially, during the time he had at home before the start of the term. It was disappointing that he wouldn’t be able to get much ahead. Alas, he would have to make do with the little time he had.
He wondered if Tecchou had realised that he wasn’t really reading, but simply running his fingers on the printed letters, trying to recognise words. It was lucky the ink on the book left a rather strong contrast onto the pages.
By chance, he had latched onto his potion’s textbook. He wondered if his lack of vision would pause him problems in that class. He read many lines about potions being recognised by colours. Would he be able to simply rely on his sense of smell? He doubted he should taste the bloody mixture. What if they were to make poison? Maybe he would rely on his hearing? Perhaps the concoctions would simmer specifically, and he would be able to use the sound as a tell tale. If not, then he’d have to grab the nearest person and ask if the colour was right.
He had no idea how much time passed. The train had begun to fill with the voices of excited brats and soon after it rocked softly before moving forward. Jouno’s attention stayed on his book, undisturbed.
The door to their compartment opened with a bang. “Excuse me! Have you seen a toad! A boy named Neville— oh you.” Jouno instantly recognised that shrill voice. “Oh? Reading ahead? Well, I’ve already read all the Textbooks! I must say it’s disappointing that you are only getting onto it now.”
Jouno sighed. “If I wanted the opinion of an entitled know-it-all I would have seeked you out. As it is, you again seem decided on sharing knowledge no one asked for. Have you still not found the chapter on minding one’s own business? What a disappointment. Now do get lost. Shu shu.” He waved her off. “Don’t you see how rude you’re being!” “No, I certainly don’t.” He deadpanned before shut the door in her face.
“That wasn’t very nice.”
“I will shove my foot up your rear, mutt.”
They returned to a brief interlude of silence before Tecchou spoke again. “Did you think of a name for your cat? I think I’ll call my owl “Justice”.” Jouno raised an unimpressed brow before scoffing. Still, with a sigh, he relented. “Nekomata.”
“Like the yokai?”
“Yes. I believe it fitting.”
“The woman did say it was part…kneazle…” The cat yawned.
Tecchou snorted. “You really are alike.”
“Pardon?” Jouno asked, tempted to hit the boy.
“You’re both mean. She clawed at my hand when I tried to pick her up.”
“She?”
“That’s what the lady at the store said.” Tecchou explained as he got up.
“What are you doing?” He didn’t respond, simply grabbing onto Jouno’s ankle. The action earned the boy a kick, but he didn’t move away. Gently, he raised the shoe. Tecchou ran his hand onto the sole, before removing something that had been poked into the rubber. “You had glass stuck in your shoes. You could’ve been hurt.”
For a long moment, no one said a thing, Tecchou did not let go of Jouno’s foot.
“You have small feat. Like a girl’s”
A smack echoed in the compartment.
He slapped Tecchou across the face.
———
“There is absolutely no way. I refuse!” A crowd of children made space around the two boys, staying at a safe distance while observing what was going on.
“Get in Jouno. You have to.” A pair of arms snaked around Jouno’s torso as the other boy dragged him along the rest of the group.
“I will fucking strangle you! You motherfu—” A firm hand clasped onto his mouth.
“You can’t say things like that around children.”
Ignoring the fact that they themselves, were the same age as the snot nosed brats surrounding them, Jouno trashed into the death grip, promising bloody murder with a flurry of muffled sounds. The other boy did not let go even when Jouno bit onto the too warm hand that sealed his mouth.
“I’ll mount your head on my wall and use it for target practice!”
“That’s not nice.”
“I don’t give a damn about ‘nice’, you thick-headed fucker.” He dug his nails into the arms that held him. Tecchou did not budge. With not even as much as a pained groan, he dragged Jouno along the path they were being guided upon.
“Just let me go with the older students!”
“No, you have to go with the other first years.”
The soft murmur of water licking at the shores echoed in Jouno’s ears. He trashed harder. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” Tecchou warned as he loosened his grip. Jouno did not stop struggling. Other children whispered to one another, clearly staring their way, but Jouno did not care. He could hear old wood creak on gentle waves. The smell of damp grass and moist hair filled his lungs with every breath.
Something in the water moved, creating a splash on the surface.
“Everythin’ okay there lads?” A gruff voice bellowed from the other side of the group, clearly addressing them.
“Yes.” Tecchou and Jouno echoed.
“Ya sure there? Seem like ya got in a scuffle.”
“He‘s scared of water” Tecchou explained.
“I’m not!” Jouno hissed. “I simply do not wish to fall in and get my robes wet!” He countered crossing his arms. It probably painted a funny picture; one boy holding onto another as if he was a petulant toddler. While the one— captured—crossed his arms with attitude unbefitting of his situation.
“He’s like a cat.” Tecchou said, as if it explained everything.
“I’m nothing like that fur-ball.”
“Yes you are.”
“No, I’m not!” Jouno stepped onto Tecchou’s foot, crushing his toes with hopes to break them. Like a granite statue, Tecchou did not move an inch.
“Laddie ya don’ need ta’ worry! T’baot’r the safes’ ya’ll find! An’ if ya fall in, the gian’ squid’ll fish ya righ’ out!”
“The giant what?” Jouno exclaimed. Other students took a step back from—what Jouno could only imagine was the direction of the shore. Some children squeaked as they shuffled away. Another child seemed to echo his dissatisfaction, refusing to get anywhere near the water, his friends seemed to agree with him.
At least some people here had some sense.
Tecchou on the other hand, did not in fact share his train of thoughts. Instead, he unceremoniously plopped Jouno down into the closest boat. Jouno’s fist instinct was to stand up and leave, but Tecchou held him down as he sat next to him.
Among the crowd, the giant—whose introductions Jouno had not bothered listening to—somehow managed to convince most of the children to hop into the boats. Two other boys quickly joined them, sitting on the bench in the back. The boat on their right was quickly filled with a bunch of other brats. One of whom immediately huffed“If I fall in, my father will hear about this.” Before sitting down.
When every boat was finally boarded and no child was left standing on the shore, they began to move. Forward it went, gently rocking on small ripples of water. Jouno was as tense as a boulder, refusing to as much as breath the wrong way.
“See. It’s not that bad.” Tecchou tried.
Jouno however, chose to concentrate on the frankly disgusting, fishy smell of their boat and the musty odour of the wood. He ran his fingers against the rough texture of wet planks hoping, begging they held sturdy. He latched onto the spot where someone had etched a jagged ‘T’ deep into the wood, pressing his thumb into the indent so much it hurt.
He could not let himself think about the world around. The nothingness that awaited if he fell overboard. Suddenly, his world was reduced to the claustrophobic size of their boat, stuck with three other children he knew nothing about.
The other brats gasped in aw. Tecchou gaped, as if starstruck in front of the unknown thing’s beauty. Even one of the boys behind Jouno, seemed to lean in to have a better look. It caused their boat to tilt dangerously. Jouno froze, blood in his veins freezing over with the certainty that he would fall in the water, but the last child who had quietly been reading made some kind of high-pitched noise before hitting his neighbour with his book, demanding he sit back down. The sheer relief that flooded Jouno could have melted Antarctica.
“It’s so pretty. Don’t you think so too Jouno?” Tecchou somehow exclaimed while sounding completely unimpressed.
“I don’t see anything special.”
“You’re not even looking at it.”
“Why would I be?”
The boy behind him—the one with the book—snorted but said nothing.
“LOWER YE’R HEADS!” The giant barked. Out of sheer spirit of contradiction, Jouno pondered keeping his head high, but he alas, he did not fancy falling in the water. He quickly realised that they had entered some sort of tunnel. Sounds echoed from the walls, making everything louder.
Finally, they docked. Tecchou extended a hand, offing help out of their boat. Jouno slapped it away before climbing out on his own, sneering at the other boy. As the crowd of children marched their way up a flight of stairs, Jouno thought back to the helpful ‘T’ that had calmed his panic, and the newly scratched in ‘J’ that he had engraved right next to it. Fibres of wet wood still clung under his nails.
“Welcome students to Hogwarts.” The gritty voice of a woman echoed from the top of the stairs. Jouno groaned, ready to claw his own face out. Of course, the old harpy would be here, he had known she would be.
Just why did she have to by the first teacher he encountered?