Takekura Gen looked at his reflection in the window of his car. He didn’t look that different than he did in high school, just a few more wrinkles here and there with a few more white hairs here and there and a bit of grey stubble as opposed to black stubble. He had discarded the Mohawk of his youth for the simple, professional cut of middle age. He wore nice suits that came with owning your own construction company as often as he wore the company football uniform. Right now he was wearing one of those red football uniforms, looking at the reflection that reminded him of high school and his college years, the reflection that reminded him of his old friend: Hiruma Youichi.

            With a small sigh, the man pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car. He climbed inside and turned on the car radio. The news station told him how boring the day had been. Takekura nodded once and changed to the local rock station, preferring to hear something energetic on his way home.

            Instead he got a foreign song he had not heard before. It had a symphony accompaniment to a calm, clear voice and a piano. The man sung in English, speaking of old things he used to enjoy with his friends, and how as the man drove home, he realized how sad it was that he could no longer do these things.

            “I’m not sure all these people understand, it’s not like years ago.” The man sang over the radio. Takekura understood English well, even if he spoke it with an egregious accent. Takekura remembered standing on the football field with only 11 comrades who all shared one single dream and drive. Things had been much simpler in high school, much clearer.

            “You, I thought I knew you, you I cannot judge. You, I thought you knew me, this one laughing quietly, underneath my breath.” The foreign man surprised Takekura with his words. Takekura remembered Hiruma, the man’s quirks, the man’s smirks. Hiruma had been a hard person to read at the best of times. But there was one thing Takekura thought he understood about Hiruma and that was Hiruma’s love of friendship and football. Both of which Hiruma tossed aside one day and disappeared the next, without any trace he had even existed.

            Hiruma Youichi had been missing for years.

            There had been no warning or explanation. Just a simple letter of resignation on Takekura’s desk one morning that said “I quit”. All of Hiruma’s cell phones fell out of service and the man hadn’t been living at the address he claimed to have been, because the landlord explained that the renter had been some woman by the name of Saburo Chizue, who had just recently passed away.

            The question that Takekura often asked himself when he thought of his old, missing friend, was why?

            Why did Hiruma disappear?