Beside him was a bottle labelled ‘hydrogen peroxide’.

I’ll tell them my older brother made me do it, he thought.

Actually, his brother hadn’t been home in several days. And he thinks I’m a total loser, but even so I’ll tell them it’s because of him.

‘Suba-chan, how much longer are you going to be in the bathroom? It’s time to eat.’

‘Hurry up, Subaru. What kind of dumbo has a bath in the morning, eh?’

‘OK. I’m coming!’

He grimaced at his grandmother’s slow drawl, and his grandfather’s grumpy tone, and turned off the dryer.

The house was in need of renovation, and the sliding glass door rattled. He picked up a thin towel, a cheap freebie printed with the name of a construction company. There were a few stains on it.

‘Looks like blood,’ Subaru muttered.

As he emerged from the bathroom, his grandfather, in T-shirt and long johns, frowned at him.

‘What’s happened to your hair?’

He didn’t comment any further, probably because his older brother already had blond, spiky hair. Subaru’s brother had roared up in front of the house on a motorcycle which he said he’d borrowed from an older friend; their grandmother had yelled at him about the ugly roar it made, but what concerned Subaru was his suspicion that the motorcycle was stolen. His brother had some pretty expensive embroidery on his school uniform, and Subaru wondered where he’d got the money to do that.

‘You two don’t go to school, don’t work – you’re hopeless, just like your father.’

‘I’m sorry, Grandpa. Really.’

‘These days you’ve got to graduate from high school or you won’t amount to anything.’

‘Yes, yes, darling. It’s time for breakfast, so let Subaru have something to eat.’

They started the day early in Subaru’s grandparents’ house. Until the moment his grandfather went out to play go with his buddies or to work in the fields, Subaru had to endure all his sarcastic remarks. He’d vaguely laugh it off, silently eat the meal his grandmother made for him, and then, in the same room, open his school textbooks. And study until the time came when the castle opened, all the while enjoying listening to music on the player his dad had given him.

‘My marks are good and I do well in most subjects, so I don’t have to go to school,’ he lied to his grandmother, and she believed him. But his grandfather wouldn’t buy it.

‘You gotta go to school. It’s important,’ he insisted. He might say that, but his grandfather never actually communicated with his teachers about his situation. He confined himself to directing snide comments at Subaru.

For their part, the only contact the teachers made to urge the brothers back to school was through their father, who lived far away. Their parents had labelled both brothers as kids with issues, and had washed their hands of them. All they did was get angry, tell them they had their own lives to lead and that the brothers, too, should get a grip and take responsibility for their own lives. All of which led Subaru to one conclusion: no one really cared all that much what happened to him.