Assume that contact from an old friend is either a scam or a cult

A while ago, my mother sent me a photo via a smartphone messaging app, saying, "I got a postcard from someone who seems to be a friend from your vocational school."

It was a standard government-issued postcard with a message printed by a computer. To summarize, it said, "I'm K, a graduate. How are you? If you don't mind, could you please contact me?" and included a mobile phone number and email address.

—Who?

Even though it has been over 20 years since I graduated, I remember the faces and names of most of the people I was close with during my vocational school days. However, there is no one named K (I'll add an honorific for now) among them. That said, I was quite active and interacted with many people across different departments, so it's possible that the other person remembers me even if I don't remember them. If that's the case... I feel kind of bad.

After graduating from high school, I attended a vocational school for sound technology in Tokyo. It was in a pretty good location, right next to Shiba Park and a 15-minute walk to Tokyo Tower. By the way, my dream at the time was to become an FM radio program director. Even so, why did I enter a sound technology school and study to be a recording engineer... I can't explain it well now.

Let's get back to the story.

When I replied to my mother, "I don't remember him at all. Isn't it some kind of solicitation?"

"Then I'll throw it away"

came the cold-blooded reply. Since I have more mercy than my mother, I hurriedly replied, "Wait, wait, just leave it in my room." Well, I had no intention of calling the number or sending an email anyway, but I thought that when I eventually returned to my parents' house, I would at least bury it in the trash can with my own hands.

I always keep in mind, "Assume that contact from an old friend is either a scam (trying to sell you a vase) or a cult (trying to recruit you)." Therefore, I have never attended a class reunion. (Now, I regret not going to at least one.)

Of course, there is an event that led me to think that. It was on the day of my Coming-of-Age Ceremony.

＊＊＊

"They say the buffet at the hotel in front of the station is half-price for the Coming-of-Age celebration!" "I'm going!"

After the ceremony ended, as I was about to follow the group of people in suits, formal kimono, and furisode, my junior high classmate N called out to me. N was quiet, reserved, and inconspicuous. There are other perfect words to describe N, but out of consideration for compliance, I'll let you guess. Anyway, the gloomy... N called out to me.

"Why don't we go to a family restaurant tonight? I have something to talk about." "Can't we do it now?" "I have other plans later. I'll come pick you up nearby around 7 PM." "Oh, then at the convenience store nearby..."

I foolishly told him how to get to the nearby convenience store. Thinking about it now, there were many strange things. The fact that N, who I wasn't particularly close with at the time, suddenly called out to me at the Coming-of-Age Ceremony, and that he went out of his way to say he would pick me up nearby... However, the festive mood of the ceremony might have erased those doubts. In the end, I did as I was told, got into N's car, and went to the family restaurant. Without knowing what was waiting for me there.

When I entered the family restaurant with N, someone was waving from the seat at the very back. As I walked quickly to the seat, two strangers were sitting there. Were they a little older than me and N? "Please, have a seat," said Stranger 1 with a smile as he stood up and had me sit in the back.

"Um, Togashi-kun, right?"

A well-built stranger sitting next to N, Stranger 2, spoke to me familiarly with a smile.

"I heard you were the president of the brass band club?" "Yes, well." "A guy who can play an instrument is cool. What instrument did you play?" "I played the trombone, euphonium, and tuba..." "That's amazing. I don't have any musical talent, so I'm envious."

I said "Yeah, well" once more while looking at N-kun in front of me. Just like "Number 1" and "Number 2," he was smiling broadly. All three of them were smiling broadly, as if they were wearing masks. It was eerie. I was being asked all sorts of questions by someone I had just met, someone whose background I knew nothing about. There is nothing more eerie than this.

“So, are you a college student now?”
“He says he’s attending a vocational school in Tokyo.”

—Don't say unnecessary things!

I glared at N-kun without thinking. Another part of me sent out a danger signal, telling me, "You must not tell these people anything private." After that, no matter what they asked, I kept repeating "Yeah, well" while desperately trying to think of a way to escape.

“The world today is really dangerous, isn't it? China is ready to launch missiles at Japan at any time, and there are so many earthquakes. People's minds are sick.”

I don't remember exactly, but I'm sure they said something like that. Even though I was a naive kid from the countryside, I could roughly imagine what would happen next. I regretted coming to the family restaurant so easily.

“Hey, don't you want to live a dramatic life?”

—Here it comes.

It was such an obvious setup.

My escape route was blocked by "Number 1." I needed to buy time, no matter what. I drank the water in my glass in one gulp and shouted to a passing waiter, "Excuse me, water!"

“Of course I want to live a dramatic life!”

I acted as best I could. Perhaps pleased by that, "Number 2" took a pamphlet-like paper and something that looked like prayer beads out of a bag and placed them in front of me. I was disappointed, as I had wanted to trust N-kun. Even while feeling disappointed, I still wanted to believe in him.

—N-kun is being used.

The quiet, unassuming, invisible loner... N-kun must have been cleverly deceived by these people and told something like, "Go talk to someone at the coming-of-age ceremony and bring them here." He must have happened to see me at the ceremony and thought, "Togashi, who treated me normally back then, won't reject me." At this moment, I genuinely thought, "I want to save N-kun if I can." Even though I should have been worrying about myself first.

“Where do you live, Togashi-kun?”

I was so taken aback that I fell silent. This is bad. If I tell them where I live, I'm done for. However, people are not good at lying on the spot. I, of all things, was about to say the address of my grandmother's house nearby. At that moment...

“It's near [Address], [Town Name], right?”

N-kun provided a nice assist.

Let me be clear.

N is a piece of trash who sold me out! (Compliance-friendly version)

"Oh, let's order something. My treat."
"Can I go to the restroom for a second? I drank too much water..."
"Oh, sure, go ahead."

Surprisingly, "Number 1," who had been sitting next to me, stood up without any fuss. The moment I stepped into the aisle, a mix of anger, sadness, and contempt for N-kun welled up inside me.

It was a relief that the restroom was right next to the exit. Having not a shred of desire left to help N-kun, I muttered, "Farewell, N," in my heart as I entered the restroom and contacted my friend, F-kun.

—I'm being recruited into a cult at a family restaurant! Help!

After I gave him a clear, concise, and perfectly efficient explanation of the situation, F-kun came to pick me up in his car without a word. I was genuinely on the verge of tears at the arrival of my savior.

"Do you want me to go over there and beat them up?"

At the entrance of the restaurant, F-kun had entered combat mode. Far from just beating them up, I would have liked him to finish off all three of them if possible, but since causing a bigger incident than a cult recruitment would defeat the purpose, I pulled my hot-blooded savior away, saying, "Let's get out of here!" and shoved him into the driver's seat.

When I offered to treat him to ramen, F-kun declined, saying, "I already ate," and drove me straight home. I think a true friend is someone like F-kun.

The moment I arrived home, I stood there and shouted at my parents, who were watching TV in the living room looking bored.

"From now on, if anyone calls for me, just say 'He's not here'! Don't give them my cell phone number either! Tell them 'My son doesn't have a cell phone'! And throw away all the reunion postcards! Please!"

I emphasized "Please!" once more to my parents, who were nodding with their mouths slightly agape, and added, "I'm hungry."

***

How nostalgic.
Remembering those days, I sent this message to my mother.

"If by any chance someone calls, you can just tell them I'm 'dead'."

Any normal parent—no, anyone with red blood flowing through their veins—would say, "Don't say such ominous things." However, my mother...

"Got it."

She replied instantly.

Mother, is there any love in that?

I wonder if N-kun is living a dramatic life.
I wonder if he remembers me running away from that family restaurant back then.

Huh? What would I do if N-kun contacted me now, you ask?

Of course I'll go.

With a vase tucked under my arm.

And then, I'll say this.

After graduating from vocational school, I got a job at a cardboard manufacturing factory in my hometown, then became a systems engineer, and now I live in a heavy snowfall area in Okhotsk, Hokkaido, where the 24-hour snowfall exceeds 80 centimeters, burying houses and cars and making national news, and I diligently write essays and novels every day.

"That's dramatic enough, don't you think?"

I'll say.

(This is a true story, of course)

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