Well, at least it hasn't been too terribly long (2 and 1/2 weeks or so) since I posted the previous chapter. Without spoiling anything, all I'll say here is that I enjoyed having to read back through previous sections of the story so I could get the logistics right. Coming back to Yamaku and remembering how I set things up there took a little more research than is usually required.
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Chapter 28A - Secrets
Getting back to the doldrums of Yamaku isn't as bad as it sounds in my head. The beach weekend seemed to last an eternity, and I came back to a school that's hardly changed, but that's how every vacation feels. There's a certain amount of relaxation afforded by monotony, even if I feel like I just walked back into a stale recurring dream. Slipping back into my normal life, relationship changes aside, is as quick and painless as it is depressingly boring; well, maybe not for everyone.
Walking into class on Tuesday morning, after spending the night drinking too much coffee and trying to hammer enough calculus into Amaya's unwilling brain to pass the coming exam, we're greeted by a sickeningly adorable sight. No longer moving under everyone's radar, Yoko's presence has the whole class distracted as she and Kenta giggle and flirt like they're alone in the woods. It will only last until Ito storms in the door, but their budding romance has the whole class talking – which takes their eyes off of us, thankfully.
Long nights usually don't bother me much, but I barely managed to get my uniform on straight before we left because of my zombie-like hall-mate. The distant, glazed look in her eyes remains as we sit down, and I'm genuinely worried she might fall asleep on her test. Her paramour doesn't look much better, strolling in just before the bell with his shoulders slacked and bearing a deathly grimace; Tadao hates mornings and math, so this exam could be considered torture. Meanwhile, I'm in a strangely delightful mood by comparison, but I keep the smile off my face for their benefit.
And my own, really...
Like clockwork, Ito crashes through the door five minutes after the bell, though his late arrival today could be attributed to extra time spent copying the ten page exam for all eighteen students. Wasting no time with pleasantries, he starts handing out the loosely stapled sheets almost before he can set down his briefcase. The tense silence that follows as we flip through the pages is followed by a unanimous groan; even I'm daunted by the amount of material on the exam. After the typical speech about proper test etiquette, and a quick, gruff, “Good luck,” Ito sinks into his chair and the class gets started.
Welcome back to Yamaku...
It turns out less difficult than it looked, but I'm still happy we're given the entire first half of the day to finish. My neighbors make increasingly distressed groans as time wears on, but I think they're more worried about finishing than answering incorrectly. With a little concentration, I know they're both capable of working out the equations, and that only leaves the vocabulary, at which they both excel. Still, I expect they'll be complaining about it for the rest of the day.
Lunch comes and goes a bit faster than I would have liked, but that's mostly because the second half of the day is all English and History review. Neither are my favorite subject, so I probably should pay attention, but I just want this day to end. It feels like I haven't slept since Sunday night, even after a five hour nap on the bus. Unfortunately, I don't think it's just fatigue draining my reserves. The past couple weeks have been a series of small disasters, and even the vacation didn't help me decompress; it actually made some things worse.
When the final bell rings, every fiber of my being wants to dash out across the school grounds, fly up the stairs through the dorm and crash headlong into my bed, but plans were made and instead I'll have to endure a few hours in the library. Despite my desire to disappear like a phantom, I relay Hisao's plan to Amaya and Tadao, and they agree to accompany me for a study session with the Student Council. The one caveat is that I demand a stop at one of the vending machines for canned coffee, to which they unanimously agree.
Aside from the study session, there's also the matter of Shizune's clandestine note, but the thought of opening that and adding whatever horror it contains to my list of worries has made me bury it in my bag. Not that I'm sure it will be something awful, but I think she can afford me a full night's sleep before I commit to whatever request, or demand, it makes. With any luck, she won't mention it, or might have even forgotten about it, but, in any case, she'll have to wait.
Sorry, Shizune...
The sight of the library is a welcome one for Tadao, and Amaya is happy to see Yuuko, so I can at least feel good about that. My presence is rare, which makes the mousy librarian nervous – more nervous than usual, that is – but I happen to like Yuuko, despite never making my way down to this part of the facility. She's smart and fun to talk to once you get past the skittish exterior, which I've only seen a few times in the past three years, but it's worth the wait. Besides that, she and Amaya get along like sisters, and I'm usually fine with anyone that gets along with my friends.
Apparently Hisao spends a good deal of time here as well, so perhaps I should make an effort to visit the library more often; maybe even get in the habit of reading. The book Hisao was pretending to read over the weekend looked interesting, or at least the title sounded intriguing, and I could probably get used to a hobby that doesn't lead to anonymous screaming matches and eye strain. If it turns out I enjoy it enough, reading could even replace my gaming habit.
Yeah, no... probably not.
Since the exam schedule differs by class, our respective classrooms will be taking their English and History finals tomorrow, and there's some contention about which to start first. Personally, I like the idea of putting off English a little longer, but Shizune comes up with a democratic solution, or it's at least fair.
[Roshambo,] she signs, smirking proudly, [best two out of three decides.]
Amaya groans when I translate, but after explaining that's just the traditional name for rock-paper-scissors, she calms down. The agreeable nod from Tadao is less than enthusiastic, but Hisao's sigh is troubling. Turning a questioning glance at him, he looks back with trepidation in his eyes, but just shrugs and waves his hand; he seems to have experience playing this with Shizune.
What could go wrong?
[Fine,] I agree, nodding, [You and me, best of three.]
Without another gesture, she reaches forward, fist in hand, ready to start the game. After the first two rounds, I've smashed her scissors, she blanketed my rock, and there's a crowd of extra eyes watching from around the library; I should probably have expected an audience. There's a glint in her eyes and confidence in her posture as we set up for round three; you would think she knows what I'm going to play.
Somehow the library has become even more silent. While we face off, all I can hear is the ticking clock, a few stifled gasps, and my own pulse thrumming in my ear. This probably shouldn't be quite so tense, but there are a lot of students who have a vested interest in seeing Shizune lose; even if it's just a silly game. Looking at her steely expression and calm demeanor, I imagine she's used to this kind of scrutiny, but I'm not. If I had the weight of that many eyes on me, and they were all hoping for failure, I'd look a lot less calm.
Silently, she raises her fist and I mimic the motion. One, two, three times we pound out, then I launch my secret weapon; rock. Strangely, Midori is the only person who regularly beats me at Roshambo, but she figured out my secret a long time ago; I almost always play rock. Shizune's confident grimace falters as I tap her scissors and open my hand like a little explosion. As I lean back in my chair, I glance around the room to see a chorus of silent cheers, and I fold my arms to bask in their quiet praise.
[Well played,] she concedes, nodding in deference. Shooting a look around the library, her stony glare makes them all turn and start to look busy, but when she looks back she's smiling. [So English first?] she asks, back to business.
Realizing I have the choice, I look over at Amaya and she shrugs. The cocky grin on her face tells me she doesn't care what we study, she just wanted to see Shizune lose. Tadao is similarly grinning, so I decide to go with my first thought and put off English until later. Neither subject really interests me, but working through English last will leave it fresher in my mind; at least that's the plan.
[History first,] I reply, turning to nod at my classmates, “I'd rather do English last so it's fresh for tomorrow.”
“Works for me,” Amaya agrees, and Tadao nods complicitly; he'd probably agree with anything she said at this point.
He really is well trained...
The crowd that stood around to watch our game wasn't a fluke; the whole library is buzzing with activity. The returning exam, regardless of subject, apparently caused a bit of a stir, and seemingly everybody is here to make sure tomorrow goes smoothly. According to Amaya, it's not usually like this, but everyone seems to have study fever. There are faces from all four corners of the school, many of whom I haven't seen in a while. With so many disparate students filtering through, all with similarly desperate expressions, poor Yuuko can barely keep up with the requests.
Language is Tadao's specialty, same as Amaya, Misha isn't the type to lead an academic conversation, and Hisao is pretty indifferent about the subject. So, without our resident green-haired History expert around, it falls on Shizune to guide our studies. Of course, Shizune would probably commandeer the proceeding anyway, and with as much confidence as she brought to the game of Roshambo, which, when I think of how tired she should be, is actually pretty amazing. Considering how tightly wound she seems most of the time, one might suspect her to crash hard, but the stress never seems to bother her. It's almost frightening how high her energy level stays even after getting no more than three hours sleep.
I envy that, I guess...
Still, with Shizune leading the History studies, it's a little bit strange. Since Amaya doesn't understand sign language still, despite numerous attempts to get her interested, Misha has to relay everything Shizune signs. The thought occurs to me that she would probably do so anyway, but, despite being in the library, a typically quiet environment, Misha makes no effort to control her bombastic volume; though I think most students are used to it by now.
It's less of a disturbance than I think it might be on a normal day, but most everyone in the library probably knows every detail about what we're reviewing. After a while, I consider asking if I should take over relaying messages for our dutiful Class President, but I think Misha enjoys it more than a little. They're friends, of course, and I'd be the same way if I had to relay everything for Amaya, but sometimes I wonder if Misha's duty has blurred into an obsession.
There's more to their relationship than that, I'm sure, but sometimes I feel bad that Misha always seems joined to Shizune's hip. They're both capable of functioning independently, and I know Misha is a lot smarter than she sometimes acts, but they're together almost all the time, and Shizune tends to dominate their presence. Still, I don't feel like rocking the boat. Curbing my incessant desire to analyze, diagnose and try to remedy my friends' problems is difficult, but I think Hisao is right to try and stay out of them.
There's nothing wrong with thinking about it, right?
An hour later, we're listening to Misha's sickeningly cheerful voice describe the Treaty of Versailles. While I'm a little bit interested in post-industrial history, especially where the two world wars are concerned, I'm finding myself distracted by just about anything else going on around the library. If this is anything like what Ito has to deal with every day, I don't think I'll ever be a teacher; not that it was on my list of prospects.
Quiet as they are, the sound of scratching pencils, leafing paper and squeaking chairs make it difficult to concentrate, even though Misha is louder than any of them. Catching the distinct cracking sound of a shifting chair, I lift my head to look toward the source and end up using the motion to stretch my neck. While I'm trying to work out a kink, I notice a familiar sound bouncing down the hallway.
There are other double-amputees at Yamaku, of course. Class 3-4 has several of them, and there are a few in other classes as well – one of whom Hisao apparently works with in class sometimes; Molly, I think. Still, the rhythmic sounds being made as this particular one rounds the corner, and nearly runs over a very surprised second year, is distinct enough that I can tell it's her without looking. After stopping, at least in a relative sense, to make sure the poor girl is alright, Emi continues on her way to the counter, smiling cheerfully as she talks to Yuuko.
Despite trying not to stare, I still find myself watching her sometimes. Never sharing classes with Emi, and living several hallways apart in the dorms, I haven't really had much chance to ask her about herself. Most of her classroom is full of similarly disabled students. Although, in a lot of cases, that's probably not the right word. Emi probably wouldn't call it a disability as much as an inconvenience; and a minor one at that. All I really know is that she lost her legs in an accident a long time ago, and now she's probably the fastest runner at Yamaku.
That still makes no sense, but it's true...
Noticing my unintentionally extended gaze, she smiles broadly and waves. “You made it back!” she says cheerfully, bounding over to our table and hopping in place. For some reason she's wearing her running spikes, but I probably shouldn't be surprised. Folding her arms as she bounces, she remarks, “I figured you would've ended up staying in your natural habitat.”
Natural habitat...?
Though I can see why she might say that—she knows I'm a swimmer—I didn't know our trip was common knowledge. While Emi steps around the table, I turn a curious glance toward Amaya. Smirking, she buries her face back in her textbook, trying to look interested. Seeing my less-than-coy stare, Emi starts laughing and shaking her head. “I bled it out of Hisao, actually,” she says, slapping his shoulder and grinning, “when he came asking about the keys.”
The truth makes sense, and I'm beginning to understand Amaya's reaction isn't as much shame as embarrassment. A quick look at Tadao confirms that line of thinking as he looks away from me in an attempt to find the clock; the one he knows is on the opposite wall. Their discussion in the shed, as I like to call it, is something very few people know about, and even less fully understand. Of course, Emi isn't privy to all the details, but she's no fool.
“You're chipper today, Emi-chan~!” Misha remarks, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“Got some good news is all,” she replies, smirking coyly, “but that's for me to know and you to find out next month.”
As she's speaking, Shizune looks up and adjusts her glasses, narrowing her eyes at our perky guest and raising an eyebrow. Leaving the translation to Misha, I sit back and watch her cut the air with some rather curt signing. Despite spending the past hour watching the very same kind of translation, it's somehow different when the message is being directed elsewhere. Aiming her comments toward Emi causes Shizune's gestures to become quicker and more angular, and her expression has a harder edge; I wonder if it's just frustration, or if she genuinely doesn't like the spirited runner.
I'm probably over-analyzing again...
“Do you have a reason for intruding on our study-session, Miss Ibarazaki?” Misha asks, her cheerful tone lacking any of the intended force.
I'm actually glad some things don't change...
Emi's lip curls for a moment and her happy bouncing stops, though I'm sure it's the source rather than the question causing the change. “I'm waiting for Yuuko to find me a particular book on anatomy,” she says, winking toward Hisao, “it's more fun studying with pictures.”
Watching her smirk lasciviously, I wonder whether I should be mad or suspicious; probably neither, this is Emi, after all. If he even noticed, Hisao doesn't flinch; he keeps right on reading through the textbook like it's the most interesting thing in the world. Looking back at Emi's grin, I'm pretty sure she's just trying to mess with me a little. While I'm trying to interpret Emi's erratic signals, Misha is relaying a second message from Shizune.
“If you wouldn't mind awaiting your book elsewhere, we're trying to get some work done,” she says, and I look just in time to see her lean forward to whisper, “good seeing you~!” Grinning broadly, Misha nods while Shizune's gaze falls back down to the textbook. On second look, I think she's probably just tired and frustrated; Emi's cheerful demeanor has made me consider homicide on some mornings.
Emi seems less than enthusiastic, but her quick glance around at our table brings back the cheerful smile. “Good luck with finals!” she chirps, then, crouching down beside my chair, she leans forward to whisper, “Don't give Deaf-Charge an inch.”
“We won't,” I assure her, turning an innocent smile at Hisao's questioning glance.
With a hearty giggle, she bounces back to her feet and trots over to Yuuko's counter, tossing a mischievous smile over her shoulder as she goes. The silence left in her wake hangs over our table for a few minutes, and I feel at least one pair of eyes scanning me curiously; inquisitive brown eyes that have, more than once, rendered me speechless, are now focused on me, no doubt wondering what just happened.
I don't think he's heard that nickname before...
Since joining the Student Council, I know Hisao has grown less apprehensive about, if not fond of, our abrasive Class President. So have I, honestly, and I never did like that nickname. Saying it, even in a whisper, so close to Shizune, even though she couldn't hear it anyway, is beyond rude. This is Emi's fault, but I still feel guilty. However, with all these other pairs of ears around, I don't feel comfortable trying to explain, so all I can offer is a weak frown and a shrug. Letting his gaze off slowly, he scans around the table and turns back to nod.
I'll have to explain later...
The awkward silence left in Emi's wake only lasts until Misha's lilting tone starts reading aloud once again. Listening to her cheerfully recounting the tale of long-dead diplomats, there's a sinking feeling in my stomach that wonders if she's ever heard either of their less-than-polite nicknames. Even though a month ago I probably would have just smirked and ignored the derogatory terms, things are different now; I'm different now. It bothers me hearing someone refer to them that way, now that I know them a little better. Unfortunately, I don't know if I can do anything to fix it, and I also don't want them to know I ever thought they were fitting titles.
Without having any idea what to do about that particular problem, I set it aside and turn my attention back toward studying. After another hour, Shizune suggest that we take a break before coming back to start our English studies. If nothing else, it gives me the chance to reset my brain before it gets overloaded by that incomprehensible language, but I can tell from her sideways glance that she has an ulterior motive. When I get up to stretch my legs and go for a little walk around the library, she follows silently.
It takes a few minutes, but I eventually find my way into a section nobody is using for exam studies; periodicals. Turning a contemplative look back over my shoulder, I nod resignedly and beckon Shizune to join me. With her arms held tightly behind her back, she steps over lightly and stops, her only question coming as a slight tilt of her head; she knows I know what this is about.
[I didn't get to read the note,] I admit, shrugging, [what did you want?]
[It's not something we should discuss here,] she replies. Unfortunately she's a lot better at masking her tells, so all I can read from her expression is urgency, and maybe a little apprehension. That could just be lack of sleep, but the fact that she's unwilling to discuss it here is reason enough to make me wonder – and worry.
[Where, then?] I ask, trying to hide my trepidation, as well as stopping myself from making a sarcastic eye-roll.
My question seems to catch her off guard, and she glances around nervously for a few seconds before settling her gaze on me and nodding. [The Shanghai?] she asks, [after school tomorrow?]
Having been attending Yamaku for almost three years, I know what the Shanghai is, of course. It's a little tea house near the town center where a lot of my classmates frequent. Though I don't go there often, I know it's usually quiet with nice private booths – and, according to Hisao, Shizune is a regular patron. From the strangely hopeful look in her eyes, I think she wants to go there for the security of a familiar place, if not only for the seclusion.
[You're buying,] I reply, accenting my demand with a grim smirk.
[Of course; it's the host's duty,] she agrees, finally cracking a relieved smile. Dropping it quickly, she adds, [Come alone, and keep it secret; it's important.]
With a quick, firm nod, she turns and heads back toward our table, leaving me to ponder what could be so important. In some ways, it's just one more thing to worry about, but it's so unlike her to act this secretive, and it's been going on for a while. After talking with Hisao, I think she knows about the letter, even if she doesn't know who it was from, but I'm not sure that would be enough to make her so evasive. Until this little conversation, I thought she might request that I join the Student Council, an idea I would actually consider, but she would probably do that with Misha, or get Hisao involved as leverage.
While I'm trying to think, I notice a distinct shock of black hair sticking out from around a bookshelf and sigh inwardly. “You're not as sneaky as you think, Amaya,” I say flatly, shaking my head as she steps into view.
“I'm just checking the periodicals,” she claims, reaching into the shelf beside her and retrieving a magazine, “why, what are you doing in this dark corner? Nothing suspicious, right?” Her tone, and claims of innocence, indicate anything but, though I hardly blame her.
It's perfectly justifiable to be mad at her for snooping, but I know there isn't a truly malicious bone in her body. “I can't tell you,” I explain, stepping around the corner and taking her arm to pull her along. Once we're out of sight, I lean down and whisper, “Just don't worry about it, okay?”
“Worry about what?” she asks, shrugging innocently, “I didn't see any clandestine meeting with a certain Class President, and I definitely have no idea how to read sign language.”
There may be truth to her claims, but I know better than to think she hasn't picked up at least some sign by now. It's obvious she's worried about me, probably because of the secrecy, but until I know what Shizune wants, Amaya will have to remain clueless. “Good,” I reply, leaving her overtones unanswered, “it's not worth your trouble, anyway.”
With that, I start walking away. It feels wrong keeping things from her, especially when it's obviously bothering her enough to follow me around, but her interest really isn't helping. If anything, it's only complicating things further, but telling her that would probably just make here more interested.
It's a vicious circle...
“We still need to talk later!” she calls after me, her voice edged with more than a little annoyance.
“Yes, later,” I whisper to myself, choosing not to respond loud enough for her to hear.
I just want this day to end...
It's too late for that, though. Everyone else is already back at our study table, and Amaya slips out from behind a nearby bookshelf as I'm making my way back to sit down. Hisao casts me a questioning glance once I'm seated, but I just shake my head in response; like it was nothing. As I'm doing so, Amaya slams her textbook down on the table, making me, and most everyone else, jump back and cast her an angry glare.
“Basics first?” she inquires, pulling the book open to a random page. After a few grunts of assent, she nods toward her literary Lothario. “I'd nominate Tadao, but he's not much of a talker,” she remarks, turning an impish grin toward Shizune that makes me cringe, “so I guess I'll lead?”
Subtlety is not Amaya's strong suit...
It's probably obvious to everyone there's tension between us, and between her and Shizune, but nobody makes any comments. Tadao pretends not to notice, and Hisao is too busy trying to appear adept at the subject; it's adorable seeing him squirm. Meanwhile Misha acts as oblivious as usual, though I can tell the situation is effecting her when her answers lack the usual volume. Shizune keeps her expression passive, but the tapping foot and folded arms tell me she's uncomfortable with Amaya's scrutiny. All things considered, it's the fact that she keeps avoiding my gaze that I find troubling; she may be just as mad at me.
When Yuuko approaches our table, I throw a quick glance at the clock on the wall and realize it's after six already. Most of the other students have already left, and we've reached a lull in our discussion, so she takes the opportunity to remind us the library is closing soon. “I can stay late if you need me to,” she explains, wringing her hands together nervously, “I know it's exam week and you're all-”
“Don't worry about it,” Amaya interjects, casting a glance around the group. Her eyes fall on Shizune for a few lingering moments, though I'm pretty sure she isn't looking for approval. Despite spending the weekend living in the same house and working together, old habits die hard. However silly it might seem, Amaya still feels threatened by Shizune, and all the secrecy isn't helping.
“We're just about finished, I think,” she adds, turning a saccharine smile at Yuuko, “we'll be out of your hair in no time.”
That sardonic smile wasn't meant for Yuuko, I'm sure...
Whether she grasps the touch of sarcasm in Amaya's tone or not, Yuuko is quick to return the smile and walk away briskly. True to her words, we start packing up our books and we're soon headed for the door, which is somehow less gratifying than I was hoping. With Hisao walking beside me, I try to keep myself from glancing at Amaya, or Shizune, but I haven't felt this uncomfortable since Mom visited over winter break; spending a whole weekend trying to convince her I wasn't interested in Tadao somehow pales in comparison.
It's clear from Amaya's less-than-casual stare that she sees Shizune as some kind of threat, but nobody can say anything; least of all Shizune, and not for the usual reason. Keeping her gaze forward, Shizune tries to ignore the attention, but her steady pace is quickened; she probably wants to put some distance between her and Amaya. After tossing some support behind our Class President last night, Tadao is suffering some residual barbs in the form of frequent narrow glares from his perturbed paramour. Meanwhile, I can feel the tension in Hisao's steps, and there's a distinct lack of laughter coming from Misha's typically cheerful lips. All of this because I'm keeping secrets, and mostly for the right reasons.
At least I think so...
Trying to put this all out of my mind, I lean against Hisao as we walk and focus my weary eyes on the ground. By now he can definitely tell there's something wrong, and I don't want him to worry, but I also can't tell him without breaking a trust or making things worse. The silence is deafening as the cement path slowly winds beneath us, and all I can think of is getting back to my dorm. There's a dull throbbing starting to form above my left temple, and the best way I know to deal with that is with a few long hours of undisturbed sleep.
“See you in class, Hicchan~!” Misha's piercing voice chirps and I look up to watch her depart with Shizune. Neither looks back, and I don't blame them.
If it wasn't obvious before, the crooked stare Amaya is casting at me is evidence enough; she's mad at me, probably as much as Shizune. Tadao offers a slight nod as she leads them along toward the boys dorms', and she sticks her tongue out as they go, just long enough for Hisao to notice.
“Is she mad?” he asks once they're out of earshot, turning a curious glance at me, “she's been snippy all day.”
I can't tell if he just noticed, or was waiting to say something...
“It's because of the exam this-morning,” I lie, shaking my head and trying to smile, “we stayed up to study, and she still blames me for being unprepared.”
“Shouldn't that have been her job, though?”
“You'd think, right?” I sigh, turning to head for the girls' dorm, “she'll get over it quick, don't worry.”
“I'm sure she did fine with Ito's star pupil as a personal tutor,” he remarks, starting to follow me.
As much as the thought of sneaking Hisao into my dorm for a while is tempting, I want to avoid creating more problems today. Halting, I turn a raised eyebrow and chide, “Hey, your dorm's that way!”
“But... they're both headed for the boys' dorm.” he protests, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.
“That's them, this is us,” I retort, pointing my finger back and forth between us, “besides, I plan to actually sleep tonight.”
For a second he looks like he might argue, but it fades into a light smile. “I'll just have to schedule a tour some other time, then?” he asks, casting a longing glance at the building behind me, “last time I ended up in the wrong room, remember?”
Ah, yes, that...
“No promises,” I reply coyly, “but if I can clear it with the door guard, I can give you the grand tour some night.”
“Night?”
“Did I say night?” I say, pressing a finger against my chin, “clearly I meant day; with the lights on – all the lights on – and lots of people around. As witnesses... to the tour.”
From his devilish smirk, I can tell he wants to turn every word against me, but he decides against that. “Until then, mi'lady, I shall await your summons with baited breath!” he says, bowing graciously and taking a few steps backwards.
“You're an idiot,” I remark, drawing a raised eyebrow.
“You sure you're okay?” he asks, holding up a hand, “you just seem off today.”
Sigh...
In my efforts to become less transparent, it seems I've either failed or become easier to read; or he just pays more attention than most. That thought makes me smile faintly, but I know he can't really help, at least not immediately. “I'm alright, just...” I start to explain, trying to sound less conflicted than I feel, “she's been on me about something, and there's finals, and I'm just... tired... y'know?”
Dropping my guard a little makes him smile, though there's a lot more holding me back than he could possible know. “Well,” he says, taking a step closer, “I think I know a way I could help.”
Before I can protest, his arms are around me, and he pulls me close for a much-needed hug. When the initial shock wears of, I melt into his embrace, pressing my ear against his chest to listen to that erratic heartbeat and smile. Even if he doesn't know what's really wrong, the support is appreciated; especially from him. Maybe that's why I've fallen for his nerdy antics and dopey smiles; he really seems to care. Wrapped in his arms, I let go of all the conflicting thoughts and, for a few brief moments, just enjoy being held.
“Feel better?” he asks, finally relaxing his grip enough for me to look up at his smile.
“Yeah,” I mumble, biting my lip a little, “thanks, I think I needed that.”
“Anytime. Anyplace,” he assures me, smiling wistfully, “Just call.”
It's probably just naiveté overpowering my reasonable self, I but I actually believe he would. “Me too,” I say as an afterthought, “If you ever need a hug.”
“Will do,” he says flatly, convincingly.
We can be naïve together, I guess...
The smile lasts for a few long seconds, but then a serious look crosses his face and I lean back a little apprehensively. “What?” I prompt, predicting an uncomfortable question.
“Deaf-Charge?” he asks bluntly.
Ah, that...
“Just a silly nickname for Shizune,” I explain, shrugging, “I've never liked it, but-”
His sudden smirk stops me from continuing. “That's so wrong,” he says, shaking his head, “but it fits.”
His reaction is somewhat surprising, but maybe not completely unexpected. Within days of his arrival, Hisao was granted a nickname of which I know he isn't entirely fond. It could easily have become a malicious one in a different context, and maybe that's all any nickname needs – proper context. Now that I think about it, it might be possible to turn a malicious nickname into an endearing one, and I can't help but smile at the thought.
Seeing my contemplative smirk, it's Hisao's turn to prompt a response, “What?”
“Just thinking.”
“I can see that,” he scoffs, “you're making your plotting face.”
While I wish I had a mirror to see what he's talking about, I'm too busy thinking to care; I've got an idea. Instead of hiding the nickname from Shizune, maybe we could start using it endearingly. Change its context and turn it into a friendly one instead of something whispered behind her back. All we would have to do is introduce it in conversation and hope she doesn't dislike it too much. It might be necessary to pair it with the one used for her counterpart if we plan to completely defeat its malicious intent, but I think Misha will adore having her own nickname; she certainly enjoys handing them out.
Still, without having a solid plan, I don't want to get anyone else involved. With that thought in mind, I smile at Hisao and start shaking my head. “It's just an idea,” I say, frowning at his concerned pout, “don't worry, I'll keep you in the loop.”
That seems to placate him well enough, though he's still suspicious. “Remember what I said about poking bears,” he remarks, raising an eyebrow.
I think he might be overusing that metaphor...
“It's nothing that dramatic,” I assure him, reaching up to rest my hands on his shoulders, “you'll be my first call when I figure it out.”
“I could help,” he offers, smirking at me playfully.
His offer is tempting, and the lost-puppy expression is making me consider it more than I should, but I want to do this myself. Even if I didn't come up with it originally—I don't know who did, actually—I'm at least guilty of thinking it and I want to make amends. “Stop pouting!” I yell, shaking his shoulders and matching his pout with my own, “I need to do this myself is all...”
His eyes squint suspiciously for a moment, but he starts nodding. “Okay, are we still on for swimming tomorrow?”
“On my birthday?” I ask, tilting my head and frowning.
“Isn't that when you turn into a real mermaid?” he asks with a wry smirk.
Oh, that would be awesome, wouldn't it?
“Well, yes,” I lie, nodding for emphasis, “but I don't think you're ready for that. Besides, I have to go through the magical water tunnel back to Atlantis for the coronation ceremony, and-”
My description is cut off by his bursting into laughter, and I'm quick to join in, bowing my head and giggling. Maybe I'm just overtired, but I don't think he minds when I lean closer and wrap my elbows around his neck. He has to bend down a little, which puts him close to eye-level, and it's just a matter of closing the gap from there. The hug was nice, but having him in my clutches for a kiss is better. My conscious mind is thinking that we shouldn't be this close in the middle of the school grounds in broad daylight, but the hand gently rubbing against my hip is shutting down that part of my brain.
Would anyone notice me slipping Hisao upstairs...?
Unfortunately, knowing my luck, there will be a gauntlet of familiar faces waiting in the halls. Of course, in this fantasy I'm dressed like Zero-Suit Samus, Hisao is carrying me in a Mega-Man costume, and they're all cheering while throwing rice and condoms; I'm not really sure why. It's entirely possible my imagination is corrupted by my hobbies, but I'd look great in a blue jumpsuit. The image fades when our lip-lock ends, and I lower myself off my toes to take a deep breath. Looking at Hisao's reaction, I'm sure I could probably lead him into a volcano right now, but reality is crashing my fantasy.
“Six-thirty tomorrow?” I whisper, recalling our conversation.
Standing there in a daze for a few seconds, he starts nodding dumbly and replies, “Yeah...”
He better not fall on me...
Taking a tentative step backward, he stops and narrows his eyes at me. “Go get some sleep.”
At first I'm a little offended, but with my imagination running away with me like that, I'm probably more tired than I thought. Nodding, I clasp my hands together and take my own tentative step backwards. “See you tomorrow,” I say, starting to pivot.
“Aiko?”
Stopping, I look back and see him smiling. “I love you,” he says, adding a sleepy wave.
My reflexes are dulled by fatigue, so it takes me a second to register what he said. By the time I think to respond, he's already walking away and I'm left smiling and waving. Lingering there for a few moments, I'm not sure if I should try to chase after him or just take his advice and go to bed. The practical side wins out and I turn to head for the dorms, but there's a scattered thought making me frown as I walk.
Why didn't I answer...?
The question bothers me as much as the possible answers; more actually. It could easily just be fatigue or post-kiss aphasia—that's a thing because I say it is—but the fact that I even wondered why is what concerns me. Not telling him why Amaya is really mad is just a white lie; I don't expect it will last, anyway. The other stuff has to wait, but I feel less awful for holding it back. On some level he probably knows there's more bothering me than finals, but he's patient. Eventually the right time will present itself and he'll be ready to handle it; at least that's what I hope. Still, something is holding me back whenever things start getting serious.
When I finally find myself back in my dorm room, I'm dragging my feet and I barely have the energy to change into my nightshirt before flopping onto my bed. For a few minutes my mind keeps replaying Hisao's parting, and I wonder why I didn't just reply like I did before; I love him, after all. Eventually the warm blankets ease the thoughts away and I'm left mumbling into my pillow incoherently until I drift away to sleep.
I'd have to dye my hair blond to look like Samus...
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Tension, questions, secrets, and now some strange fantasies. The hardest part of writing this chapter was remembering their class schedule. Not checking that beforehand, I originally wrote it with them doing calculus and science studies (in the library), but that ended up being wrong. 3-1 Calculus, 3-2 English, 3-3 Science, 3-4 History is how I set it up originally. I imagined the exams would rotate following that same pattern, but somehow I forgot the pattern (because I'm stupid) and had to rewrite a bunch of stuff.
Oh well, I like this way better anyway.
Samus and Mega-Man sitting in a tree... f-u-c--- No, bad Helbereth!
. I can't fore-think that well, sadly.
