When I feel “Life is not fair!”, I’m likely to remember my friend, Kaz.

Kaz and I were classmates at the third grade in an elementary school. We sat next to each other in the classroom. We also lived near one another, so we sometimes walked back home from school together. 

I remember him as a sweet and gentle kid. 

We both loved those key rings with mascots that were popular in Japan. 

We were particularly fond of animal key rings, and each of us had quite a number of them. 

During recess, we played in our imaginary zoo with those little animal key rings. 

I especially liked one of Kaz’s keychains: a penguin. I didn’t quite know why, but its plump figure and a pair of black round eyes looked so cute. I loved rubbing its pudgy head with my finger. 

It was Kaz’s favourite too. We called it Pen-pen. 

Pen-pen was the only mascot which we gave a name to. Pen-pen has earned a special position: hanging from Kaz’s school bag. 

During the school holidays, my parents took me and my sister for a trip to an aquarium. I got a couple of new animal keychains to remember the occasion. I also got a seal keychain for Kaz. I gave it to him at the beginning of the new term. He was happy to get it.

“Thank you so much! But are you sure you don’t want to keep this for you?” He asked.

“You keep it. I’ve got another one for me.” I said.

“Oh, I see. “ He was thinking something for a while. Then he pulled out his school bag and unchained Pen-pen. 

“In return.” He offered Pen-pen to me. I was surprised. 

“Oh, no, it’s your favourite one. You don’t have to.”

“No. I want you to keep it. I know you will love Pen-pen as much as I do. Take it.”

“…Thank you. I’ll treasure this.”

I held a thumb-sized seabird on my palm and rubbed its head. I felt like as if I were adopting a puppy dog.

After graduated the elementary school, Kaz went to a private junior high school and I went to a public school. Since then we didn’t have much contact. But whenever we come across each other in our neighbourhood, we exchanged a word or two. He looked fit and cool in a sleek boys-school’s uniform. I think I had a slightly romantic feeling for him, but I didn’t have a chance (or courage) to suggest him such a thing at all. I was just hoping to see him again someday by any chance, such as at school reunions or a coming-of-age ceremony. 

Therefore, the news of his death came to me not only a shock but also a sense of discontinuation. When I heard that tragic news from one of my friends, I couldn’t understand what he has just told me. Dead? Kaz? He was 15 years old. We were only 15 years old. It was like watching a film suddenly being cut off at the first 15 minutes.

At his funeral, I was feeling numb. I couldn’t digest what happened to him— Dying at age of 15. His cause of death was leukemia. It started when he was 13, the undertaker told the attendants. 

Until then, a concept of death to me was something associated with old people. It supposed to be something very distant from my everyday life. I have never imagined that my life can be ended at any time. Of course, I knew that everyone will eventually die. I knew that everyone has a possibility to be killed by an accident or a crime. But the moment of decease was still beyond my imagination.

There was Kaz’s portrait on his altar. His smile was exactly the same as the one in my memory. Sweet, genuine and slightly shy. I wondered whether the photo was taken before he has become aware of illness or not. Has he already developed such a fatal disease when I saw him on the street the last time? Did he know he might not survive? Was he scared to die? Hundreds of questions whirled in my head. 

When I got back home, I picked Pen-pen from my keychain collection box. I held it on my palm and rubbed its head with my finger. Pen-pen looked confused in my hand.

How many keychains did Kaz have? I wondered. I imagined keychains left in Kaz’s room without a hope of being used. Those keychains could have been used for keys for important things in Kaz’s life. His bicycle, his school locker, his suitcase, his new flat, maybe even a spare key for his girlfriend. They could have gone to a lot of different places with Kaz. The keys to open doors to new stages of his life were forever missed. 

“I have to open those doors in my life,” I thought to myself. No matter how much my current life sucks or my future gives me a hard time, I have to stay strong and keep going. Because Kaz couldn’t do that even though he wanted to. 

Twenty years after, I still keep Pen-pen. I got rid of most of my keyring collections at some stages of my adult life, but I just can’t throw that one away. That penguin’s eyes still look as innocent as ours used to be.