Memories with the “Brat” – Part 2

Hide-and-Seek with the Brats

The evening park was bustling with a crowd of children.

The western sky was starting to turn orange, and the air touching my skin was beginning to feel cool. The kids playing in the park ranged widely in age, from upper elementary schoolers to toddlers, all mingling and playing together.

Some were scampering around the playground equipment, others were crafting imaginative creations in the sandbox, some were battling it out with handheld gaming consoles, a few were playing catch on the sidelines, and some were playing card games on the ground, heedless of getting their cards dirty. There were as many ways to play as there were kids.

Parents gathered around, keeping an eye on their children while chatting. The road in front of the park was slightly congested with cars heading to shop, and occasionally, an old man in a green fluorescent jacket from the neighborhood patrol crossed the sidewalk.

An unchanging evening scene, just like the old days.

“““Oni-san, Oni-san, what color is it?”””

Mahiru, the oni, declares loudly.

“Red.”

We scatter around the park, searching for something red. Asaka touches a playground structure shaped like a fire truck. Something red, something red… Oh, right.

There was a mailbox near the park entrance, wasn’t there? Heading that way, I find Miya already touching it.

“No use. This is mine now.”

“Damn.”

Turning around, I’m met with Mahiru’s smug face.

“Ah!”

Mahiru creeps closer. I grab her red T-shirt.

“Oh, red… just kidding.”

“No way!”

“Right.”

Mahiru tackles my stomach.

“Got Yuu-nii!”

“Ugh.”

“Yuu-nii’s the oni again?”

Miya says, exasperated.

“Yuu-nii’s got no sense for color tag.”

What even is “sense for color tag”?

“Is Yuu-nii the oni next?”

Asaka joins us, grabbing my hand.

“I’m getting bored of color tag. Yuu-nii gets caught every other round,” Miya says, leaning against the monkey bars.

“What’s next?”

Mahiru looks up at me.

“It’s a bit early to head home,” Asaka says, glancing at the clock tower. It’s about to hit four-thirty.

As the saying goes, autumn days fall like a bucket from a well—around this time, it gets dark quickly after five. We can play a bit more, but I need to get them home before it’s too late.

“How about regular tag?”

When I ask, Miya tilts her head thoughtfully.

“I’m tired of running around. Let’s play hide-and-seek.”

“Hide-and-seek? Sounds good.”

“Agreed.”

Mahiru and Asaka nod in approval.

Hearing “hide-and-seek,” I smirk inwardly.

…Fools. Hide-and-seek is my specialty. You mocked me endlessly for sucking at a minor game like color tag, huh? I’ll show you brats the true power of an adult.

2

“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight—”

Hide-and-seek.

One of Japan’s traditional games, centered around hiding. The thrill of the oni closing in and the heart-pounding relief of going unnoticed are sensations you can’t get from other games. That’s the true charm of this game.

Participants rack their brains to pick the perfect hiding spot, but whether you’re found or not often comes down to luck.

In this game, I’ve devised a foolproof strategy. It’s only for the hider, but no one has ever beaten this method.

“Twenty-nine, thirty. Ready or not?”

Miya, the oni, shouts, and—

““Ready!””

Mahiru and Asaka’s voices overlap. I respond the same.

It’s go time.

The rules are simple: hide within the park, and the first one found becomes the next oni.

Miya scans in various directions before starting her search around the playground equipment. She weaves skillfully through the other playing kids, searching silently. She’s like a cat chasing escaped prey.

After a bit, Miya raises her voice.

“Mahiru, found you!”

Mahiru was hiding in the bushes on the outer edge. But her bright red shirt, sticking out through the gaps, didn’t blend in at all.

Finding someone in under three minutes? Not bad.

“Damn, caught right away.”

“It was obvious. I saw your shirt.”

The found join the oni to search for the rest.

“Yuu-nii’s big, so he should be easy to spot,” Mahiru says, glancing upward.

The two systematically check each piece of equipment. Then—

“Hey, Asaka, found you!”

Mahiru hugs Asaka.

Asaka was hiding in a complex part inside the playground structure. The wall’s blind spot would’ve made her hard to spot at a glance.

“Got caught.”

“Alright, just Yuu-nii left,” Miya says.

“For Yuu-nii to last this long? How cheeky,” Mahiru says, furrowing her brows and scanning the park.

“Hmph, I’ll find Yuu-nii in no time,” Miya says, raising her fist high, and the others follow suit, stretching their hands up.

““Let’s go!””

“Hey, Yuu-nii, where are you?”

“No luck, I can’t find him.”

“That’s weird.”

The three brats are running around the park, searching for me. But they haven’t found me yet.

Heh heh heh.

Of course not. I’m using my foolproof hide-and-seek strategy.

Once I confirm the brats have moved back to the playground equipment, I shift to stay behind them, moving in the same direction. I always position myself on the extension of the oni’s back. Obstacles help. If the oni turns back, I hide in a spot they’ve already checked.

Since they rarely check the same place twice, it’s easy to slip by.

This is the key: stay out of the oni’s line of sight. That’s the secret to winning at hide-and-seek. There’s no rule in this area that says hiders can’t move. This strategy exploits the assumption that hiders stay put. In my eighteen years, no one has ever beaten this method.

Well, unlike hidden oni or kick-the-can, this is plain hide-and-seek, so the game ends the moment I’m spotted.

Now, can these brats find me?

“Hmm, he’s really not here,” Mahiru says, crossing her arms and staring at the ground.

“Maybe he hid outside the park?” Asaka suggests.

Mahiru nods vigorously.

“Could be. Yuu-nii’s the type to use sneaky tactics. He might’ve slipped out while we weren’t looking.”

“Yeah, like with the album. Dirty tricks,” Miya adds.

“Once we find him, we’ll give him hell.”

These brats, saying whatever they want.

“Let’s check over there.”

The three head out through the residential area entrance. I follow, keeping my distance, occasionally hiding behind utility poles or corners.

We wander around the park’s perimeter for about five minutes and return to the entrance. They show no sign of noticing me.

“Weird, he’s really not here.”

“Did he go home?”

“Hey, Yuu-nii!”

Their voices grow timid, maybe from worry.

Guess that’s enough. I don’t want to scare them too much. Time to jump out from behind and give them a fright.

As I move to approach them, someone grabs my hand.

“Huh?”

It’s an old man in a green fluorescent jacket from the neighborhood patrol, staring at me sternly. His armband reads “Crime Prevention.”

“Uh, excuse me?”

He eyes me suspiciously.

“You’ve been following those girls for a while now. What were you about to do?”

“No, it’s—”

“You’re still a student, right?”

“No, I mean, I am a student, but…”

While I’m fumbling, the brats head back into the park.

“With crimes targeting kids on the rise, you’ll need to come with me.”

“No, wait—Hey, Miya, Mahiru, Asaka! I’m right here!”

“Don’t struggle. Sorry, someone, come quick! Suspicious person—”

The three came back after noticing me, and the misunderstanding was cleared up, but I never expected my foolproof hide-and-seek strategy to be foiled like this.

The Brats Want to Search

1

“Not here either,” Mahiru says, parting the grass with a bat.

“Is it really around here?” Asaka says, standing on tiptoes to look around.

“It’s because dumb Yuu-nii got carried away,” Miya says, glaring at me.

“Ugh…”

“Search properly.”

I’ve got no comeback.

“I know, I’m looking. But it should be around here…”

I push aside the grass at my feet, but all I reveal is damp soil, not what we’re looking for.

We’re at the Urui River, which flows from Mount Fuji to the city center. We’re on its riverbank.

“Hey, Miya, don’t get too close to the river.”

Miya’s on the slope of the embankment blocks. The flow is gentle this time of year, with low water levels, but it could still easily sweep a kid away.

“Nothing here.”

“It’s dangerous if you fall, come on.”

I pull Miya back by the hand.

“I don’t think it went in the river. I saw it fall into the grass,” Mahiru says.

“If it fell in the river, it’s probably gone by now,” Asaka adds.

“Hmm, did I overdo it?”

“Overdo it, my ass!” Mahiru smacks my butt with the bat. It’s a kid’s plastic bat, so it doesn’t hurt much.

A chilly breeze crosses the river’s surface, rustling the lush greenery on the bank. My warmed-up body has completely cooled off. We need to find it before it gets too dark.

It was about twenty minutes ago.

“Here.”

I toss a rubber ball underhand. It arcs gently toward the wall.

“Hyah!”

Miya, holding the bat, swings wildly.

“Strike.”

The ball bounces off the wall and rolls along the ground.

“Haha, you didn’t even graze it.”

“Ugh.”

“Watch the ball closely. Don’t just swing with your hands. Twist your hips sharply.”

We’re at a corner of the riverbank field, with the river flowing behind us.

They wanted to play baseball today, so I lent them the rubber ball and bat I used as a kid.

I was in the basketball club in high school, but I was actually in the baseball club in middle school. I’d been in the local youth baseball team since third grade and was pretty good, if I do say so myself.

I didn’t choose baseball in high school for a big reason: high school baseball meant a mandatory buzz cut for three years. In middle school, we only had to shave for summer tournaments, but high school was stricter. I didn’t have the courage to spend my vibrant high school years with a buzz cut.

“Hiyah!”

The bat slices through the air.

“Strike, you’re out.”

“Damn.”

“My turn now, Miya. I’ll avenge you,” Mahiru says, gripping the bat. Her stance is better than Miya’s, but her hips are still too high.

“Here.”

I toss the ball gently.

“Hyah!”

A weak pop sounds.

“Wow, you hit it!” Asaka jumps excitedly.

It’s a grounder back to the pitcher, but hitting it on the first try? Mahiru’s athletic ability is impressive.

“Next one’s a home run.”

“Not if I can help it.”

I put just a tiny bit more force into the next pitch.

“Hyah!”

She catches it dead-on. The ball soars.

“Whoa.”

But it’s just a first-grader’s strength. It’s a fly ball that’d land around second base.

“Amazing, Mahiru, a home run!”

“Awesome, awesome!”

“Haha, who do you think I am?”

“Alright, Asaka’s up next.”

Miya pulls Asaka over.

“Can I do it well? I’ve never played baseball.”

“You’ll be fine. It was my first time too,” Mahiru says.

Asaka takes the bat from Mahiru.

A frilly-dress-wearing girl with a bat is quite the combo.

“Left hand down, and keep both hands together.”

“Like this?”

“Yeah, yeah, then swing hard.”

With Mahiru’s coaching, Asaka grips the bat.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Here goes.”

I throw even softer than for Miya, slightly inside.

“Eek!”

Asaka doesn’t swing—she flinches back.

“Y-Yuu-nii, don’t aim at me.”

“Sorry, sorry. It won’t hurt even if it hits, so don’t worry.”

“Ugh.”

“Asaka, swing with all you’ve got!”

“O-okay.”

I toss another slow, arcing pitch.

“Yah!”

Miss.

“Hyah!”

Miss.

“Tah!”

Miss.

“Three strikes, Asaka’s out.”

“Ugh, it’s hard.”

“Hey, Yuu-nii, I want to pitch,” Mahiru says, running over.

“Pitching’s pretty tough, you know.”

“I wanna try.”

Fine, I’ll show her the basics.

“Alright, don’t just throw with your arm. Twist your body, pull back with your front foot as the pivot, and let your hand come last.”

“Like this?”

“…Whoa.”

The speed’s weak, but her control’s impressive.

What a kid.

“Not bad, you.”

“Hehe. Now you bat, Yuu-nii.”

“Alright.”

“Here I go!”

“Bring it.”

It’s been a while since I batted.

“Mahiru, go for it! Hit Yuu-nii with a dead ball!”

That’d be my win, though.

I’m not so immature as to go all-out against kids. I’ll miss the first pitch on purpose, swinging over the ball.

“Nice!”

“Damn.”

The second pitch, I swing a beat late, missing again.

“Yuu-nii’s such a weakling,” Mahiru says smugly, while Miya jeers.

“Loser, loser!”

“Yuu-nii, do your best,” Asaka says.

“…”

Alright, that’s enough.

Mahiru’s satisfied with two strikes. Getting struck out by a kid would hurt my pride, and it’s time to show them how awesome I am.

Time to teach them the power of an adult.

“This is the end.”

Mahiru throws the third pitch.

“Hmph.”

I swing the bat.

A satisfying crack rings out.

“Ah!”

“Huh?”

“Oh no.”

…The miscalculation was that the rubber ball flew much farther than expected. With a plastic bat, I thought it’d just drop in the outfield. But the ball soars, disappearing into the grass between the river and the field.

2

“Not here either.”

I didn’t expect it to go that far.

“Let’s try a different spot,” Miya says, moving toward the bridge, with Mahiru and Asaka following. I doubt it’s over there…

“Don’t go in the river, okay?”

“I know.”

I expand my search in the opposite direction.

There’s a lot of trash around—snack bags, plastic bottles, and some weird lumps. Throw your garbage at home, people.

A few minutes into resuming the search, something catches my eye.

“…Oh.”

A dirty magazine.

Of course. Rivers, abandoned houses, and thickets are classic dumping spots for these. But it’s so damp here, the pages are barely turnable.

What a waste…

“Hey, Yuu-nii, find it?” Miya shouts.

“Nope… Oh!”

“None over here either!”

“R-right.”

This is bad. If they come back here, they might find it. I can’t let kids—especially girls—see this.

Before they return, I need to move it somewhere out of sight.

“Hey, check a bit farther that way!”

“Got it!”

I gather the damp magazines and look for a hiding spot. Move them farther down? Cover them with grass? But if the brats dig through the grass, they might find them.

Holding the soggy magazines, I’m torn on what to do.

That’s when—

“Aritsuki-kun?”

A familiar voice. I look up to see Hikari in running gear.

“Sh-Shimomura? What’re you doing?”

“What? I’m running. What are you doing—huh?”

Hikari’s gaze shifts to my hands.

“…What’s that?”

A chill runs down my spine.

“N-no, it’s not what you think!”

The life drains from Hikari’s eyes.

“You’re a boy, so it’s natural you’d like that stuff. But throwing it in the river…”

She spits the words out and starts running away.

“No, it’s a misunderstanding!”

This is the worst. I hide the magazines in the grass and chase after Hikari.

“No, wait!”

“It’s a misunderstanding, just listen!”

After explaining everything, the misunderstanding was cleared up. By the way, Miya found the ball.