Ugh. I feel terrible. My head is pounding and I don't want to go anywhere. I should probably tell Kenji that the feminists poisoned his whiskey.
Later. Morning can wait. I’m not leaving this bed.
*
It's been a long time since I really slept in. We don't swim on Sundays, but I usually still wake up around the same time. It feels good to get a little more rest, even if my reason for staying in bed in wasn't the best. Wondering how late I ended up sleeping, I glance at the clock.
Just after seven. Damn it, I can't even get sleeping in right. And I'm awake now, so no second chances.
The headache's gone, but there's something worse in its place. Regret.
I was an asshole last night. I was a jerk to Yuuko and Shizune, even though they tried to help. I was perhaps a bit too short with Yuuko, and I didn’t bother to listen to her advice, since it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it’s still not what she deserved. And there’s really no excuse for how I treated Shizune. I even assumed the worst of Misha. What makes it worse is that I wasn't unkind to Kenji. If I'd been mean to Kenji, I could have just written it off as being in a bad mood. No, I'm just an ungrateful bastard.
I look out the window. It's really nice out this morning. That's the thing about the weather – it never bothers to ask how you feel. Of course, it cuts both ways – if you're happy and the weather's sunny, it makes you a bit happier. If you're feeling good and the weather's gloomy, you don't care. If you're feeling lousy and the weather's cheerful, it's mocking you. If you're in a foul mood and the weather matches, it just makes you feel a bit worse. So I guess you really can't win.
...I think too much.
I figure I should just force myself to enjoy the weather. It’s not like anything can really be done about it, so I may as well.
Leaving the dorm, I grab one of the school newspapers from a stand near the door. With all the funding the newspaper club seems to get, it would be a waste to ignore it without ever reading one.
I don't have anywhere specific in mind, so I just set out, letting my feet take me wherever they will.
I'm afraid of what will happen the next time I run into Misha. If I manage to miss her today, it wouldn’t be enough. I'd have to skip out on swimming tomorrow. And even with that, she sits right next to me in class. It's unavoidable.
She may not have meant it that way, but she's the one who pushed me to confess. And then she freaked out when I took her words at face value, like the idiot I am. She didn't seem to believe it when she said it, but we did agree that friends could get past this sort of misunderstanding. I certainly did an excellent job of that. Five minutes after she left I started blaming it all on her. She overreacts to an unexpected situation and I decide she must be the forerunner for a coming feminist invasion. I only hope I can take her at her word and she'll forgive me for the unwanted confession.
When I notice my surroundings, I find that I've wandered to the gardens, and to one bench in particular. Of course I wandered back to the spot of last night’s disaster. I remind myself that it's just a bench, not a totem of some great tragedy. Life goes on.
Settling down in the bench, I start looking at the newspaper.
The Yamaku Crier. It's rather professional, considering it's a high school paper. The front page is in color, and everything looks like, well, a newspaper. I'm not familiar enough with publishing to notice the finer details, but everything seems to be in place.
The front page article seems to be a profile on Miss Miyagi, the English teacher. Huh, she runs the Astronomy Club. Didn't know that. Didn't even know we had an Astronomy Club...
Glancing over toward the staff section, I'm forced to chuckle at the top of the list – Natsume Ooe, Chief Editor; Naomi Inoue, Editor in Chief.
Newspapers aren't really my thing, so I start skimming the headlines and bylines, looking for something that might catch my interest. There's a section listing upcoming events on campus and in town, a couple advertisements for local stores, but nothing really catches my eye until I reach the last page.
Tucked into a corner, with a byline but no photo, is an opinion piece written by one Hanako Ikezawa. I wasn't expecting that, but it's not too surprising, either. She's certainly the bookish type, and I can see why she'd like an environment where she can say something without being seen, but publishing something in a newspaper, even just a high school newspaper, is a pretty bold move.
Before I can start reading in earnest, a pair of hands cover my eyes. I guess Misha is just going to pretend yesterday never happened. The timing is certainly as inconvenient as ever.
“Hey, Misha,” I call behind myself dully. I’m rarely excited by this game under normal circumstances, and I really don’t feel it’s appropriate in the current situation.
No response.
Now that I'm actually paying attention, these clearly aren't Misha's hands. They're longer, thinner, and not as soft. On top of that, Misha usually announces herself with a “Wahahahaha~! Guess who, Hicchan?” This makes the answer a bit easier.
[Hello, Shizune.]
My eyes are uncovered as I hear excited clapping from behind. Shizune maneuvers around the bench to face me, wearing a bright and cheerful smile. [Good morning, Hicchan!]
Right. Not Hicchan. “New Kid.” Shizune almost never addresses me directly, so it takes me a moment to remember that that's essentially my name right now. [You seem rather happy today.]
[Of course!] she replies with the sort of enthusiasm I normally expect from Misha. [New days are like second chances! The past is gone and you get to move on into the future! Isn't that exciting?]
That's certainly an optimistic perspective, but I don't think I really agree with it. Whether you like it or not, the past still happened. I do like the idea of seeing new days as new opportunities, though. [I guess that makes sense.]
My subdued response seems to annoy her. She frowns at me. [Of course it does! I don't waste people's time spouting nonsense. Idiot.]
Shizune snatches the newspaper out of my hands, smooths it out, then folds it neatly and tucks it into her bag. [Now follow me. There's something you need to do.]
I'm not about to give in that easily. [Where are we going? And what do I need to do?]
She stares at me for a moment. Her expression seems to be saying “can you really be this dense?” [We're going to Misha's room. You need to talk to her. My best friends shouldn't have conflicts with each other. I won't allow it.]
That seems a little intrusive. Shizune wouldn't care, though. [Are you sure Misha's in her room? And what if her door's locked?]
The way her eyes sparkle make it clear that I fell right into her trap. [I know for a fact that Misha hasn't left yet. And I have a key to the lock on her door. No more excuses, let's go.]
Spinning on her heels, Shizune strides purposefully toward the dorms. The way she walks implies that she doesn't care whether I follow or not. I've known her long enough to tell that that's not the case, and I'll regret not following her.
I've never actually entered the girls' dorm before. I'm surprised to find that it isn't very different from the boys' dorm. And, frankly, I'm surprised that I'm surprised.
Misha's room is on the first floor, probably because of the way she gets dizzy on stairs. Shiina Mikado, room one-one-nine, the same as me. What are the odds? I don't see Shizune's room anywhere nearby, though.
Shizune steps up to the door and knocks in a precise pattern. I wonder if it's a special sequence to let Misha know who’s knocking, since Shizune wouldn't hear any response. After a short pause, Shizune repeats the exact same series of knocks.
I hear a sleepy response from the other side of the door. “'m comin', Shicchan.”
I sometimes wonder if Misha forgets that Shizune is deaf.
The door opens and Misha peeks out.
“Wha's up, Shicch-eep!”
Misha clearly wasn't expecting me to be there. She's wearing little more than a thin Western-style bathrobe, draped loosely over her shoulders. The robe hangs open slightly, displaying frilly white undergarments with... embroidery? I don't have the opportunity to look closer, both because I realize I'm staring and because she slams the door in our face almost immediately.
A series of loud noises emanate from behind the door, as if she were randomly crashing into furniture. It's a fair guess. Shizune folds her arms and taps her foot impatiently. Right, she has even less of an idea than I do what's going on in there. A minute or two pass like this, then she knocks again.
This time, there's a flat reply from the other side. “You can come in, Hicchan. I'm not naked.”
I tell Shizune that Misha says we can come in, and she opens the door but stands back, inviting me to go in first.
Misha's room has quite a bit more personality than my own, but that's no feat in itself. I'm surprised by the relative lack of color, mostly wood contrasting with plain white walls, but it's tastefully arranged. In the far corner, a series of shelves display an impressive number of shiny trophies and medals. She said she used to swim a lot, so it makes sense that she'd have trophies from that period in her life. The robe she was just wearing looks to have been carelessly tossed onto a still-unmade bed.
Misha herself is sitting at a large vanity, resting her head in her arms on the main surface. She's wearing a pink t-shirt and a darker pink skirt now. Her hair is a total mess. A brush hangs loosely from it, as if it got stuck in a tangle and left there. Scattered in front of her is an assortment of cosmetics, clearly having just been poured out from the nearby bag. She looks up at me through the mirror, defeated. When she speaks, it comes out as little more than a halfhearted whisper. “Sorry you have to see me when I look so gross, Hicchan.”
“You don't-”
“It's okay, Hicchan, I know I'm ugly. You don't need to lie. You probably hate me now, anyway. I don't mind. I deserve it. I yelled at you, I didn't listen, and I didn't explain anything to you, either. No one deserves a rejection like that.”
It hurts to hear her say that, especially the way she says it. There's a dead sort of listlessness in her voice, as if she's just completely given up. I'm not sure what to say in response to that, so I don't say anything. I slowly approach her, taking careful, measured steps until I'm standing over her. Now that I’m closer, I can see that her dressing table also holds a small jewelry box, a few cute hair clips, and... a pair of glasses next to an empty contact lens case? Was Misha wearing glasses when she first answered the door? Did I really not look at her face? I'm a terrible person.
I gently place a hand on her shoulder. Wiping her eyes, she looks up at me. It pains me to meet her eyes, again full of fear. This is the second time I’ve seen her like this, and it’s not any easier than the first time. How can she be so terrified? And what scares her so much? I want to smile, to reassure her, but her despair seems to suck all the cheer out of the room. “I don't hate you, Misha.”
She doesn't look terrified anymore, but she's still far from happy. “You should,” she mutters darkly, “I wasn't fair to you, and now everything's ruined~.”
How did she phrase that again? With a dry chuckle, I repeat her words from last night, “If we're really friends, we can just let the misunderstanding go and still be friends, right?”
I can see the hints of a small grin forming, but it's weak and falters as she speaks. “It's nice that you think that, Hicchan~, but that was talking about a boy confessing to a girl when the girl doesn't like him. I don't think it works when the girl likes the boy but is a complete idiot and messes everything up~.”
It's getting a little easier to smile at her. She seems to be relaxing. “Why not? The girl is allowed to forgive the boy for a misunderstanding, so the boy should be able to forgive the girl for a misunderstanding too.”
This manages to get a weak laugh out of her. “Haha, I guess you're right, Hicchan~.” With a tiny bit of light back in her eyes, her volume begins to return to normal. Well, normal for a regular person. It’s still a little quiet for Misha. ”Does that mean we're friends~?”
“We can be friends, if that's what you want.” Moving my hand from her shoulder, I gently brush my fingertips across her temple, running them through her outermost strands of hair. “But I still like the idea of you being my girlfriend.”
She blushes a little. I'm still surprised someone as loud and brash as Misha can also be so demure. With shy smile, she replies, “I just don't understand you, Hicchan~. Shicchan is so pretty, and thin, and nice, and smart, but you don't like her. You like me, even though I'm fat, and ugly, and clumsy, and annoying, and irresponsible, and... and I'm also mean sometimes...”
She's so hard on herself. None of that is true. Okay, the clumsy is true, and there are times when she's a little annoying, but the rest isn't true at all. I open my mouth to say so, but she interrupts me before I can say anything. “But~! But, if you really want to be my boyfriend~, I would have to be crazy to say no. I do feel sorry for Shicchan, though...”
Reminded that Shizune has been here for this whole thing, I turn to look at her, but the door is closed and she's nowhere in sight. I wonder when she left. I'll worry about that later. For the moment, I pull my new girlfriend into a firm embrace. “I wouldn't worry about that too much if I were you, Misha. She told me you were mistaken. She isn't all that interested in me. Besides, she was pretty intent on getting the two of us together. I can't imagine she'd be too upset at getting what she wants.”
Misha hugs me back, with equal enthusiasm. Nuzzling her head against my shoulder, she speaks into my chest. “You're too nice, Hicchan~. I don't deserve someone like you.”
I wonder if she can hear the irregular sound of my heartbeat, especially the way it's racing right now. I don't really care. It's not that big of a deal, anyway. Loosening my grip, I run a finger along her jawline, gently lifting when it gets below her chin. As she raises her head, I bring my face closer for a kiss, which she eagerly meets. This second kiss is as wonderful as the first, but there's no melon flavor this time. I bring one hand up behind her head, gently snaking my fingers through her hair. My other hand carefully removes the hairbrush from its tangle, then gently presses into her back. At the same time, she reaches her own hands up my back, resting them on my shoulders. The warmth and softness of her body pressed against mine is intoxicating.
Unfortunately, a loud gurgling noise brings us back to reality. Misha breaks off the kiss, pulling away slightly and blushing. I decide to defuse the situation by asking the obvious question. “Do you want to go get some breakfast?”
For some reason, this doesn't cause the expected burst of laughter. Rather, she blushes even brighter and nods, signing “Yes” at the same time. “But first,” she whispers, slowly getting louder as she regains confidence, “but first I need to get cleaned up, okay~? Okay~!”
And like that she's back to normal. “Okay, I don't mind waiting.”
“Wahahahaha~! Not here, silly! I need my privacy! Go wait outside~!”
She playfully pushes against my shoulders, forcing me to take a couple steps backwards. Taking the hint, I leave her room and make my way back to the common area. I find Shizune sitting on one of the couches, reading the newspaper she snatched from me. Clearly, she was just waiting for me to return, as she hops to her feet and tosses the paper onto a nearby coffee table.
Wearing an especially pleased expression, she eyes me expectantly. [Well?]
I chuckle at her eagerness. She and Misha really aren't all that different, it seems. [I'm sure you know the answer as well as I do.]
[That doesn't matter.] She scowls. Well, it's more of a pout, really. [I want you to say it.]
I roll my eyes. [You were right. All we had to do was talk it over. We owe it all to you and we're eternally in your debt.]
Shizune covers her mouth, suppressing another laugh. [I'll hold you to that.]
I realise too late what I said, and who I said it to. She probably took it seriously, and won't let me take it back, either. She holds up a finger, her expression becoming solemn. [One more thing.]
Smirking, Shizune points to her own eyes. [Misha's eyes are up here.] She follows this by pointing toward her chest. [Not here.]
Yeah, she noticed. And I deserved that. [Misha's getting cleaned up, then we're going to have breakfast. Are you interested?]
She smiles at me. [Are you sure you two don't want to be alone?]
I return it with a mischievous grin of my own. [Of course we do. Consider it a repayment of our debt.]
Adjusting her glasses, she meets my eyes in a challenge. [You don't honestly believe that interrupting a romantic breakfast date satisfies a debt of eternal gratitude, do you?]
I shrug. [It was worth a shot.]
Shaking her head, Shizune decides that the conversation is over, and returns to the couch, picking up the newspaper to resume her reading. I glance over at the stand to grab a paper of my own, but the girls must be much more interested in the school paper, because it's empty. Sighing, I settle down in one of the other sofas, to sit and wait.
She's not actually reading, of course. It's another game to her. The occasional smirk when she glances over the paper confirms that. I'm not letting her win that easily. Folding my arms, I stare straight ahead.
We sit in this stalemate for some time. Before too long, however, Misha announces her presence. “Okay~! Okay, okay~! I'm ready now~! Time to eat!”
She's wearing her school uniform now, and her hair is quite wet, but back in drills. She's probably wearing make-up now, too. “Oh, you're still here, Shicchan~. Do you want to come have breakfast with us?”
[No thanks.] Shizune smiles apologetically. [I already ate. You two can have fun without me.]
Turning to me, she flashes an impish grin. [You win this round. That's one year off eternity.]
“One year~ off eternity?” Misha looks at me, bewildered. “What was Shicchan talking about, Hicchan~?”
“Just some joke, I guess. I don't really get it myself.” At least, I hope it's a joke. It can be hard to tell with Shizune...
“Yeah, Shicchan is confusing sometimes~. It makes my head hurt~.”
“Yeah, mine too.”
Shizune can be overbearing, and harsh, and otherwise troubling, but there's a charming sweetness to her as well. She's a good friend, to both of us. Even if she were serious, I can't imagine being in her debt for all eternity would be too terrible. She's too nice to make it unbearable.
I turn to Misha. “Are we ready to get food, then?”
“Yup~! I'm so hungry that I forgot I wanted to eat! Wahahahaha~!”
It's true. Cheerful weather does make a good mood feel better. Hand in hand, we make our way to the cafeteria, for our first meal as girlfriend and boyfriend.
Act 2 Scene 8 |
Act 3 Scene 1
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