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I wait patiently as the girl in front of me slowly makes her way down the stairs. She keeps a tight hold on the rail as she takes one ginger step at a time. It's a little awkward standing here with my hands full, but that's what I volunteered for.

At the end of the day, Misha and Shizune got into the same back-and-forth as last time. While they were talking it over, one of the other girls from class asked me if I could help carry some things to the newspaper club room.

She has arthritis. It comes and goes, some days worse than others. It can even go into remission for months or years at a time. I've seen her dance outside in the afternoons. No reason, just because. She's not very good, but I get the sense that she doesn't care. She dances because she can. Some days are worse than others, and it looks like today's a bad day for her.

So here I am carrying an armload of things for the Newspaper Club. We've reached the end of the stairs, but she still shuffles forward like an old woman three or four times her age.

Before terribly long, we arrive at the newspaper club room. It's actually not too far from the student council room, now that I think of it.

“Thanks, Hisao, you're a lifesaver.”

There's a bit of a folksy twang to her voice. It's kind of cute.

I give her a friendly smile. “It was really no trouble, Ooe. In fact,” I chuckle ruefully, “I'm pretty sure that Shizune would say this is one of my responsibilities as a member of the student council.”

She laughs into her hand, amusement shining in her mismatched eyes. Heterochromia, she called it. Someone with two differently colored eyes is far from the most unusual sight at a school like Yamaku, though. “You city boys are all so formal. We're classmates, so just call me Natsu.”

“Right. Natsu. Where should I put these things?”

She taps her chin thoughtfully as she looks around the room. It's a very nice room. So nice that I start to wonder how they got the funding for it. There are even a few computers lined up against the far wall.

“Just throw them onto that table. We'll sort it out later.”

Obliging, I dump the various things on the table. It occurs to me that I haven't so much as glanced at the school newspaper before. Maybe I should consider giving it a look.

“H-hisao? W-what are you d-doing here?”

Somehow, I didn’t even notice Hanako. She wasn’t even hiding or anything. On the other hand, I had no reason to expect to find her here. She looks as surprised to see me as I am to see her.

“Oh, hi, Hanako. O- er, Natsu needed me to carry some things here from the classroom. I could ask you the same thing. I didn't know you were part of the newspaper club.”

She gives a small, embarrassed smile. “I'm n-not. I do th-think I might want to j-join, though.”

I smile, trying to encourage her. “That sounds like it might be a good idea.”

She blushes, then busies herself with something nearby in order to end the conversation. Gradually, she migrates away from me.

As Hanako drifts off, Natsu sidles up next to me. “Mimi decided to make Hana our project this year. Somehow, she convinced her that the newspaper club room is a quiet escape. So she's been sneaking over here to get away. Much cleaner than hiding in the toilets.”

Mimi? She must mean Naomi, her co-conspirator in the corner. I feel a little guilty as I realize that I've taken to ignoring Hanako's sudden arrivals and departures from class. It's good to know that she has people looking out for her.

It occurs to me that I need to find Misha and begin our study session, so I take my leave. As I'm about to walk out the door, Hanako calls out to me.

“H-hisao!”

I turn around to see her looking at the floor and wringing her hands apologetically. “W-would you like to have lunch with m-me and Lilly? T-tomorrow?”

That's a random request. I get the sense Lilly put her up to it. She has quite a bit of nerve, dragging me into an argument, then getting mad at me when I don't play along. Then she invites me to lunch after ignoring me for nearly a month?

On the other hand, it could be a peace offering. And it is hard to refuse Hanako. If I reject the offer, she’ll think it's her fault. It's settled, then. I'll accept the invitation, but leave if Lilly tries to chew me out.

“That sounds great, Hanako. In the tea room, right?”

She smiles and nods, then scurries away.

*

When I get back to room 3-3, it's empty. Misha and Shizune must have already left. I head to the roof in the hope that I'll find Misha there waiting for me. I wonder if I'll be able to sneak up on her and get back at her for all the “Guess Who?”s she's done to me...

As luck would have it, she does seem to be on the roof, and hasn't noticed me yet. It looks like she must be watching the track and field club go through their exercises. Slowly, steadily, I maneuver behind her, trying not to make a sound. Once I'm close enough, I place my hands over her eyes. “Guess who?”

“Oh, there you are, Hicchan. I was starting to think you weren't coming.”

That wasn't what I expected. She sounds... forlorn.

She turns around and flashes a grin, but her heart's obviously not in it. “Haha, that was a good joke, Hicchan. You almost got me~.”

I smile back. This is awkward.

“Shicchan told me you went off to help the newspaper club, but you have a habit of running away~.”

Ouch. She really knows how to make me feel guilty. It's not like I've made many attempts to run away recently... “That's not true. If I skipped out on this, Shizune would have my head. At the very least, she'd talk my ears off, or the equivalent in sign language. Sign my eyes out?”

That earns me a little giggle, and mischievous grin. “That's not a nice thing to say~, Hicchan.”

“Now, let's pick up our studies where we left off. We were doing history, right? I think I need this review as much as you do.”

“Wahahaha~! We'd better get started, then!”

*

The more I study with Misha, the more impressed I am with how quickly she picks up on the various concepts. She's clearly rather intelligent, so how could her grades be suffering as much as she claims? Has she really been neglecting her schoolwork that much?

Our study session is interrupted by sound of the door opening. Looking up, I see Shizune standing there, loaded down with several bags holding food containers. Setting them by her feet, she begins signing. [I thought you two might want dinner soon, so I brought it here for you, to save time.]

Misha brightens up on seeing Shizune, and carelessly drops her notes to the floor as she rises. [Thanks, Shicchan! You have perfect timing, too. I was just starting to get hungry!]

Now that I think of it, I'm beginning to feel hungry myself. The thought of eating tends to do that, so I'm not sure if it's really a matter of timing.

I get up to help Shizune with the bags. She brought a lot of food, and it all looks home made, too. [When did you find the time to make all this food? I thought you were busy with student council work.]

With an air of superiority, she replies, [Finding time is easy when you're organized. It's a matter of priorities.]

Misha jumps into the conversation enthusiastically, both physically and metaphorically. [Yup! Shicchan's always able to figure out how to get everything done! I wish I were that organized...]

I steal a glance at Shizune and my suspicions are confirmed. She looks tired. Much worse than she did back before the festival. I have a fair guess where sleep falls in her priorities.

[Why did you come all the way here, Shicchan? You just gave the food to me yesterday.]

Shizune grins smugly as she adjusts her glasses. [I was hoping you'd ask. I needed to have a meeting with the Student Council leadership.]

Translating the last phrase, Misha frowns. [Student Council leadership? Did you trick a bunch of first-years into becoming temporary members again?]

Not noticing, or perhaps ignoring, the criticism in Misha's question, Shizune strikes a triumphant pose. [Even better! Second year volunteers! For permanent membership!]

Shizune glows with pride. Considering how much effort they put into recruiting me, I'm not surprised she's proud of her accomplishment. Misha's eyes have grown to the size of saucers. [New members?! Permanent ones? When do we get to meet them?]

She's practically vibrating with excitement. I step back a few paces, in case her arms start flailing wildly in one of her strange celebrations.

Shizune smiles warmly, but her eyes remain authoritative. [You can meet them when you start coming to Student Council again.]

I can almost see the excitement dissipate as Misha deflates. [But that means-]

[-that you have an incentive to catch up quickly,] Shizune completes the thought, gently but firmly. It feels like a parent lecturing a reluctant child. In fairness, Misha's playing her role just as readily. [We can discuss this further later. Right now, we eat.]

Shizune's cooking has gotten better every time she's made it, and this is no exception. There are even some fried foods this time. Quite a lot of it is fried, now that I think of it. I decide to take a sample of each dish, to see how they all taste.

While we eat, Misha insists on talking with her hands full, much to Shizune's annoyance and distraction. [Are you going to wear a yukata for Tanabata, Shicchan?]

Shizune rolls her eyes before setting her food down and responding. [You know I don't like to talk while I eat. Yes, I plan on wearing a yukata.]

[What about you, Hicchan?]

I shake my head. [I never bothered with those sorts of things. I don't even own a yukata.]

Holding a bun in her mouth, Misha frowns. [That's no fun. You should buy one, so we can all wear them for Tanabata.]

A yukata isn't exactly cheap. I guess I could ask my parents for the money... [Why do you care so much about it, anyway?]

With a few awkward jaw motions, she maneuvers the bun fully into her mouth. I'm not sure if I should be impressed or disgusted. [I've never worn a yukata before. It's more fun when you do these things together.]

That's as good a reason as any, I guess. I still don't think it's worth the cost or time for me to go out and buy one, though. [Do you have a yukata?]

[Yup!] She grins happily, picking up a dumpling. [It's-] Realising that she can't continue with the dumpling in hand, she sets it back down regretfully, then resumes smiling. [It's green, too! My favorite color!]

Popping the dumpling into her mouth, Misha resumes speaking, eying me appraisingly. [What's your favorite, Hicchan?]

That's an easy question. [Green is best.]

[You too? Yay! We have the same favorite color!]

I notice some movement coming from Shizune's direction, pulling my attention from Misha. She seems to be laughing silently. [What's so funny?]

Smirking, Shizune adjusts her glasses and replies, [Green is a childish choice. It's popular and doesn't require any thought.]

Is she turning favorite colors into a contest now? [What's yours, then?]

There is a familiar glint in her eyes. It's officially a contest now. [It's a secret.]

[Keeping secrets is childish.]

[Secrets are vital for a woman. They give her an air of maturity and mystery.]

With a wave, Misha injects herself into the conversation. [I know Shicchan's favorite color!]

Shizune's eyes widen in alarm, and she frantically signs for Misha to be quiet, but Misha doesn't seem to notice. [It's pink!] “Wahahahahaha~! Hahahahahahaha~!”

Upon making this announcement, Misha begins laughing hysterically, doubling over until she is literally rolling on the floor laughing. Shizune, on the other hand, turns a particularly bright shade of her favorite color, and flies into one of her infamous silent tirades.

I'm not quite able to understand what she's saying at her extreme pace, but I can get the gist of it. Not that you need to know sign language to get the basic idea. She's mostly just blowing off steam, since it's obvious Misha's in no condition to read her signing. After a few minutes of ranting, Shizune relaxes. [It's not really that important,] she concludes, allowing herself a self-deprecating smile.

[No hard feelings then?] I ask.

[No hard feelings,] she confirms. [Misha's my best friend. I'm not going to get mad at her because she told another friend my favorite color.]

When she puts it that way, I feel terrible for even asking.

[I need to finish filing the paperwork for our new members. I'll let you two get back to studying now.]

Collecting the now-empty containers, Shizune heads down the stairs back into the building, closing the door behind her.

Misha finally calms down after another minute, sitting up and wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Shicchan left?”

“Yeah. She said she had to file paperwork for the new members.”

“That's right~!” Misha exclaims, hopping to her feet. “Stop wasting time~, Hicchan! We need to finish catching up.”

Right. Because I was the one rolling on the floor in laughter. It wasn't even all that funny.

*

Shizune's announcement seems to have really motivated Misha. Rather than calling it quits with the sunset, we move under one of the lights and continue our review. It's not too long before I start feeling tired, and am forced to suppress a yawn.

“Don't do that, Hicchan~,” Misha protests, interrupted by a yawn of her own, “yawning makes me sleepy~.”

“It is getting late. We're making good progress. You've been picking up on these subjects quickly.”

“Hahaha, you're too nice, Hicchan~. I'm only learning fast because you're a good teacher.”

I doubt that, but it is nice to hear. Especially coming from her. “At the rate you're going, we're probably only going to need one more of these intense study sessions.”

On hearing this, Misha does a celebratory “dance.” She's pretty full of energy for someone who was just yawning mid-sentence. “Yay! That means we get to do Student Council soon~! Yay! Hooray! But~!”

She twirls around to face me, her eyes meeting mine. “But I think I'd like to keep doing this~. You know, to make sure I don't fall behind again.”

It's that serious voice again. Slightly uncertain, maybe a little bit afraid. I give her a reassuring smile. “That sounds like it would be a good idea.” I wouldn't mind spending more time with her myself. “I'm not sure we have enough things to study, though.”

“Wahahahaha! Not a problem~!” Misha poses dramatically while signing her words with an extra flourish, like some sort of deaf magical girl. “We can take turns tutoring each other!”

“I don't really think we can spend all the time on sign language. I'm getting plenty of practice now, and there's not too much useful vocabulary left to learn.”

Puffing out her cheeks angrily, she begins pouting. “That's not fair~. I can teach you more than just sign language. Like... uhm... no, you're better at that... hmm... Oh! I know~! I can tutor you in English!”

I arch an eyebrow. I may be terrible at English, but Misha isn't exactly notorious for her studiousness. Mustering my most advanced English, I throw down the gauntlet. “'Have you affirmative?'”

I may have made a mistake or two, but I'm fairly confident she can't tell. The showiness should intimidate her.

She giggles. Cute, but I can tell a stalling tactic when I see one. Taking a breath, Misha replies in perfect English. At least, I think it was perfect. I hang my head in shame. “Okay, you got me. I'm terrible at English. It's hopeless, though. I'm just no good at languages.”

She frowns, confused. “You learned sign language without much trouble.”

“That's different,” I sigh, looking at the ground in front of me. “Sign language isn't like normal languages.”

I hear the sound of footsteps as she comes closer to me, until I find myself looking down at her shoes. Brown loafers, with her socks loosely bunched around the ankles. Before I can decide what I think of her footwear, she smacks the top of my head.

“You need to stop selling yourself short, Hicchan~. You can't let yourself be so afraid of failure that you never try. If you never try, you'll never succeed~.” I look up to see her nod decisively. “It's settled then. I'm going to teach you English. And you're going to learn, too~.”

I rub my head. She hits hard. “Ouch. Okay, you win. I'll let you help me learn English.”

My surrender is rewarded with a broad grin. “Yup! But first we-” She yawns loudly, interrupting her thought. “First we want to get some sleep. It's getting late. And no studying tomorrow~!”

That's right. Tomorrow is Saturday, and our trip to the city.

As I open the door to the stairs back down, I feel Misha latch onto my arm. I turn to look at her and she looks away, avoiding my eyes. Her cheeks are slightly flushed. “I get dizzy on stairs, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

I didn't really remember, until she mentioned it, but I'm not going to complain. The stairwell is somewhat narrow, so she clings rather close as we make our way down the stairs. I can feel her warmth and softness as she presses her body against my arm. There's a faint glow from the always-on emergency lights, so the going isn't difficult.

Misha clutches my arm a little tighter. “Hicchan,” she begins, giggling ever so slightly, “you aren't having dirty thoughts~, are you? Being alone with a helpless~ girl in a dark abandoned school?”

“It depends,” I reply, thinking back to the last time I was asked this question, “do you want me to?”

“Wahahahaha~! So you are! Hicchan's a filthy pervert~!”

As luck would have it, her outburst is right next to the art room, which is still lit. The door opens, and my heart sinks when I recognize the face of one of our classmates. It's the guy who's always wearing a beret and a scowl. His expression shifts from mildly annoyed to very annoyed, and he slams the door shut.

“It would probably be better if you didn't go shouting that around everywhere...”

Her toothy grin tells me that she heard me, but she probably won't listen. On the other hand, she's still pressed up close to my arm, even with the halls as wide as they are.

“I'm excited about tomorrow, Hicchan~! The city's so big~, and exciting~, and full of life~!”

I shrug. “I guess so.”

She stops, anchoring herself so I'm forced to stop, too. “Do you hate the city, Hicchan?”

Hate? That's a pretty strong word. “I don't hate the city. Actually, I like it. I just never gave it any thought. I grew up in the city, so it's normal to me.”

“Oh. I guess that's okay, then.”

We continue on in silence for a while. Once we're at the first floor, though, Misha speaks up. “If you don't mind, Hicchan, I'd like to hold onto you for support a little more. I'm getting sleepy...”

“It's okay,” I assure her, “I don't mind.”

I'm still not used to walking with someone hanging onto my arm so closely, but I manage well enough. When we reach the crossroads, she squeezes my arm to get my attention. “Can you walk me to the dorms?”

She's fading fast. Her attempt at a “cute” look makes her look mildly inebriated. I nod, and begin walking in the direction of the girls' dorm. As I near the door, it would probably be more fair to say that I'm dragging Misha, rather than supporting her.

“Thanks, Hicchan,” she grins. Her eyes look unfocused, as if she were staring beyond me. “Gnight~!”

Pushing the door open, Misha staggers deeper into the building, presumably to her bedroom.

Walking to the boys' dorm, and, eventually, to my own bed, I think about the day's events. Perhaps I'm not just imagining things. Could it be that Misha is interested in me as more than just a friend?

Act 2 Scene 5 | Act 2 Scene 7

Could it be that Misha is interested in me as more than just a friend?

...GEE, YOU THINK?!?

Ahem.

Adding the newspaper club into the mix was cool. And so was adorable Hanako (that's a redundant statement, of course )

Now if only someone could knock some sense into Mr. Master of Romance...

I liek.

Seriously, I've been reading this fic for a while. I like it. Like Hoitash said, adding the newspaper club to the mix is a nice touch. Can't wait for more !

I got so engrossed in reading this that I thought there would be a 5th page.

Keep this up. All the character executions are great.

Another great post, but I think I am a bit confused, how long after the festival did the last chapter takes place?

Comrade wrote:Another great post, but I think I am a bit confused, how long after the festival did the last chapter takes place?

You just HAD to ask that, didn't you? ¬_¬

You couldn't satisfy yourself with a vague "some time between Tanabata and the Festival," huh?

Unfortunately for you, I already put all that thought into timing. Now you have to suffer through an explanation!

The Festival is Sunday, June 10 (In "Watch Your Step, Lilly mentions that it is Friday, June 8 ).

Scenes 1-3 take place on the subsequent days of the 11th, the 12th, and the 13th.

Scene 4 makes an explicit time skip of a "few weeks," and falls on a Wednesday.

Scene 5 is the next day, Thursday.

Scene 6 is Friday.

And, just to be cruel, Scene 7 will skip ahead to Tanabata.

That would be the easy answer. But NO. You want DETAILS!

Hanako invited Hisao to lunch with Lilly. Since the time to start preparing for Tanabata is approaching, this happens before Tanabata (August 7 is the most likely date, based on region and the fact that it comes after Hanako's July 10 birthday). To further complicate matters, Marine Day is a 3-day weekend, with no classes on Saturday, July 14. Assuming events happen concurrently, Lilly leaves for Inverness from June 30 to July 13 (She leaves on a Saturday, returns on a Friday, and more than 3 days pass between her leaving and Hanako's birthday). Exams start almost immediately after Marine Day, and (most likely) run until July 30.

This leaves us with two possibilities: Scene 4 is either June 27 (a "couple" weeks rather than a "few," if you want to get technical) or August 1. But, then, August 1 isn't possible, because Misha and Hisao are worried about "upcoming tests."

Alternately, a butterfly flapped its wings, causing a hurricane in Scotland, forcing Lilly's aunt to stay inside and not get sick. Lilly never leaves for Inverness, SITUATION AVERTED! And you get no definite clue when the current scenes take place.

Now, I hope you learned a valuable lesson from all this.

Best. Director's commentary. EVER.

Holy crop, that's very detailed o.o

ProfAllister wrote: Now, I hope you learned a valuable lesson from all this.

Yes, people here take their timeline seriously.
and wtf is marine day?

Marine Day
Also, I think you put more thought into the timeline than ever went into the original KS's

Ah Wikipedia, the world's number one source for biased inaccurate information.
Now I know about another Japanese holiday

This is it, the day of our trip into the city.

It sounds so momentous when I phrase it that way, as if it were a date or something. It's me and two girls, not one, so that can’t be it. I guess it is the first time I'll be leaving the school grounds in quite a bit. Come to think of it, it's even been a while since the three of us last went to the Shanghai.

I decide that I've been lying awake in my bed long enough. My alarm will go off any second now, but I don't need it today. I turn it off so it won't interrupt this peaceful morning.

Setting out for the auxiliary building, I can tell that it's going to be another hot day today. It's surprising how much a swim in the morning can make the heat seem more bearable. It's still uncomfortable, but it takes a little longer to get to you. I think I remember reading something about core body temperature...

As usual, Misha's waiting for me at the pool. Just how early does she wake up? She's wearing the pink sunflower swimsuit today. It's cute on her, and it seems to fit her personality, but I've decided I like the other one better. She gives me a quick greeting and begins stretching right away.

Thinking about her swimsuit, I’m reminded of her question some time ago. Having an answer now, I decide to speak up. “You should wear your uniform swimsuit.”

Misha pauses mid-stretch to look at me. “What was that~, Hicchan?”

It’s a little strange just standing here, telling a girl what swimsuit she should wear, but I probably should have thought of that before opening my mouth. “A few weeks ago, you asked me what swimsuit you should wear. I didn't have an opinion, and you got mad at me. So I have an opinion now.”

This feels awkward. Misha's looking at me upside-down while practically tied into a knot, and I'm wasting her time by bringing up something she's probably forgotten by now. I'm starting to wish I hadn't said anything.

Righting herself, she turns to face me, continuing her stretches. “Thanks for remembering, Hicchan~. It's good to know you care about it~. Better late than never, right? Right~! Wahahaha-”

The laughing turns out to be a bit much, and she loses her balance, tipping over and crashing to the floor. Fortunately, she doesn't seem to be hurt, as her laughter continues. I guess it was more of an awkward tumble than an actual fall. Regardless, I feel the need to make sure. “Are you alright?”

“Hahahaha, I'm okay~! Haha, don't worry about Misha, I'm made of rubber~! Wahahahaha! Hahahahaha~!”

It's cute. She has a bit of a childish approach to life, all smiles and laughing. Not always, of course. She seems to know there are times and places to be an adult, when she can be bothered to think before she acts. People would probably take her more seriously if she could find the right balance, but her childish nature can be quite endearing.

Her laughter dying down, Misha remains on the floor. She opens an eye to look at me, the corners of her mouth turning up ever so slightly. “You aren't trying to get out of stretching, are you?”

I guess I haven't really started my own stretches. I'm a little surprised she noticed, but I get the sense that she’s not quite as airheaded as she acts. I start my warm-up routine, but I can't help but try to have the last word. “I don't remember laughing being part of warm-ups.”

Standing up, Misha gives a hearty laugh as she replies, “Hahaha, nope~, laughing isn't part of the routine. It's good for core muscles, though~! Wahahahaha!”

As she picks herself up off the ground, I can't help but marvel at the sight. She doesn't really look it at first, but she's definitely in shape. It's a very nice shape, too.

Rotating her arms like a slow-motion pinwheel, she smirks mischievously. “Why do you like the uniform suit better, Hicchan?”

My mind races, looking for an appropriate response. Because it accentuates her hips? Because there isn't a ridiculous flower on her chest? “It's a better color.”

With each of us bending and twisting in various ways as we stretch, it’s hard to see the other person’s face, much less make eye contact. “Hahaha~, I don't think Shicchan would agree with you, Hicchan.”

“You were asking me,” I grunt, “not Shizune.”

“Wahahahaha~! You're right, Hicchan!” With a hop, Misha indicates she’s ready to move on. “Yup! Okay~! Time to swim!”

As she throws herself into the pool, I decide I need to finish my stretches, so I take a minute or two longer before I start swimming myself.

Once I hit the water, my thoughts start ordering themselves on their own. It’s practically a habit at this point. She's been rather coy about it over the past few days, but I'm starting to get the sense that Misha really does like me. She's probably been dropping subtle hints for some time now. I guess I was just too blind to notice them. Perhaps she's gotten bolder? Did she hear the rumors that Emi and Miki have no doubt been spreading? Whatever the reason, she seems to be too shy to come out and say anything. Unless I am in fact reading more into things than what’s really there. That would be embarrassing.

I decide it's best to pay closer attention to Misha in the coming days. If she keeps acting like she did last night, it's probably worth the risk. If not, then it's probably better for me to keep my mouth shut.

*

Making a few final notes in my file, the nurse turns to me and announces, “Okay, Nakai, you're all set!”

He flashes one of his large goofy grins at me. I know it's his job to cheer his patients up, but I sometimes wish he wouldn't be quite so friendly. I saw too many fake smiles in my time at the hospital. It just made things worse when they seemed so friendly and happy, then told me my life was ruined forever. At least, that’s how I felt at the time. Either way, learning about my heart has certainly changed my life.

Now that I think about it, though, it's possible that the doctors' smiles were never meant for me. I once heard that sometimes people laugh because the only other option is crying. I always thought it was something people made up to excuse the jerks who make off-color jokes at funerals.

It's the nurse's job to care for kids who have been dealt a terrible hand in life. He has to tell people that they're unlikely to reach their dreams and aspirations. He has to tell teenagers that they probably won't live to grow old. And, far too often, he has to tell parents that their children died on his watch. I'm getting depressed just thinking about it, and he's the one who actually has to do it.

I smile back. He probably needs cheering far more than I do.

“By the way,” he adds as I turn to leave, “tell Mikado she's doing a great job. I'd wager you're in better shape now than you were back in January.”

As he finishes, I pull the door closed. Back in January. We both know what he meant. Before my heart attack. What is that supposed to mean? I can't go back to living my life like I did before I learned about my condition. I can't play soccer... even though I never really had any major investment in the game. I can't ride roller coasters... not that I ever felt they were worth the wait in line. Maybe, I think bitterly, this means a girl can confess her feelings without killing me.

“Hicchan? Hello~? Hiiiichaaannn?”

Misha waves her hand in front of my face. With a start, I realize that I was just standing in front of the office, staring into space.

She giggles, “Are you awake now~?”

I nod dumbly. What else can I do?

“Good.” She wags her finger at me sternly. It has all the gravity of a two-year old imitating her parents. “Now go get changed. I'm getting hungry~.”

Straight from laughter to reprimand to pouting. That's Misha for you. But something's not right. “Um... your hair...”

My comment seems to have confused her. “What are you talking about, Hicchan~?”

She's not wearing her drills. In fact, it barely looks like she rinsed out the chlorine. Her long pink hair cascades down her shoulders, taking on a slight wave as it dries. Just a little bit messy. I kind of like it.

“Did you forget to do your hair today?”

Misha freezes, blinks, then bursts into laughter. “Wahahahahahaha~! Hahahahaha~! Is that what was bothering you, Hicchan? We're going to the city, remember~? We're going to a nice place, so I want to make sure I look my best~!”

“But!” she continues, matter-of-factly, “It's bad for your hair if you wash it too often. So~,” she concludes, with a dramatic flourish, “I won't be curling my hair until later today!”

That makes sense. I guess seeing her in her uniform with something other than her drills just threw me off balance.

“C'mon, Hicchan~! Go get changed. You're going to make your favorite pink-haired classmate miss breakfast. You don't want that on your conscience, do you?”

“Right.” I smile at her. “I'd be perfectly fine letting any of the other pink-haired girls in my class go hungry, but not you.”

She returns my smile with a grin of her own, and follows it up with a friendly shove toward the changing rooms. “Now go, Hicchan~!”

*

Misha spent the whole of breakfast talking about what she's looking forward to doing in the city this evening. I wouldn't have been able to get a word in edgewise even if I tried. I didn't bother, though. I was happy enough watching her glow with excitement. I'm glad that we could find a way for her to come along.

When she's happy, Misha has the infectious glee of a child. Her smiles make you want to do the same; when she laughs, you want to join in; when she's sad, you feel responsible. She also has a habit of eating like a child, which is somewhat less charming, but no one's perfect.

This hairstyle suits her. It's more relaxed, and less polished. I really like her drills, too, but something seems off about her wearing something so... rehearsed. This way, her hair feels more like a natural part of her.

I feel another sharp prod in my side. That's the seventh time Shizune has had to poke me with her pen today. In my defense, even the teacher seems bored with the lesson, as if he can't wait until the end of class, either. For some reason, time moves slower on half days, so they feel just as long as normal days. I turn in my desk to see Shizune go through the exact same motions as the past six times: a stern glare of rebuke, a sharp jab toward the teacher with her hand, and then a few mild signed epithets. She's just teasing me with the jabs of “lazy” or “airheaded.” It's subtle, but Shizune makes sure to drop a few hints in her body language to let me know that she doesn't really mean those things. She doesn't really need Misha or me interpreting for her most of the time, but I guess I'm really doing this for Misha. If I don't do a good enough job, Misha will insist on going back to taking all the interpreting upon herself. Shizune doesn't want that, and neither do I, so I continue doing my best.

Misha seems to be enjoying the reprieve from her self-imposed duties. She certainly isn't wasting it by paying attention to the teacher. She's sitting perched on the edge of her chair - technically, it's my chair – watching the clock. I think she's actually counting down the seconds until the final bell rings.

I feel another sharp poke. That's eight.

*

When the bell finally rings, Misha jumps to her feet shouting, “Hooray~! It's the weekend!”

Mutou winces, but doesn't say anything. His authority vanished before the bell finished ringing.

Before I've put even half my things away, Misha and Shizune are already packed up and ready to leave.

“We need to go get ready, Hicchan. We'll meet up at the mural in a couple hours, Okay? Okay~!”

Having answered her own question, she and Shizune file out the door. A couple hours? How long does it take for a girl to get ready? On the bright side, this means I don't have to bother making up an excuse to meet Hanako and Lilly for lunch. Not that I'm looking forward to it, but I did agree to come.

Hanako's waiting at the door of the classroom. I catch her eye and she gives me a shy smile. “Are you ready, then?”

She hides behind her hands, as if trying to avoid both my words and any further eye contact. Speaking to the floor, she replies, “Y-yes, I'm ready.”

I figure we're going to the same room where I met Lilly several weeks ago, but I decide to let Hanako lead the way, just in case. She obliges, but continues forward at an irregular pace, moving with a strange combination of hopping and shuffling. I figure it would be rude to comment, so I just ignore it.

No sooner do we reach the threshold of the empty classroom than a familiar voice comes from within, as proper and refined as ever. “Hello, Hanako, Hisao. Please, come in.

It's still a little unnerving, the way she reacts to things based on sound rather than sight. She'll turn her head toward you out of politeness, but her eyes never look at you. They can't, really. I'd probably be more comfortable with it if I were more used to interacting with blind people.

The room looks exactly as it did that day I first met Lilly, up to and including Lilly herself. She turns to face me with her sightless blue eyes. “Please, Hisao, take a seat. I promise you, I won't bite.”

I'm really not interested in hearing whatever self-righteous lecture she has planned, but it would be rude to leave without giving her the chance to prove me wrong, so I reluctantly take a seat.

Lilly shifts her attention back to the doorway. “Hanako?”

Hanako shakes her head slightly. “A-actually, I w-was going to meet up w-with N-natsu and Mimi...”

That's red flag number one. I grimace, causing Hanako to take a couple steps back, her face a mask of shame and apology.

Lilly, on the other hand, responds with a serene smile. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. Please give them my regards.”

Cheered by Lilly's encouragement, Hanako gives a small nod. “Okay. Bye, Lilly, H-hisao.”

Hanako's footsteps echo off the tiles as she leaves, returning to the same unusual pattern I noticed when she came here.

Leaving me alone with Lilly. “Would you like some tea, Hisao?”

We both know her offer is a formality. She'll make tea if I accept, but we both know I won't. “No thanks.”

Her practiced smile tightens ever so slightly, but doesn't falter. I sit in silence, waiting for her to make the first move. She takes a dainty sip from her teacup before speaking. “I don't hear you moving. Aren't you going to eat?”

My reply is simple and direct. “I didn't bring any lunch.”

Lilly sighs, annoyed that I'm intentionally making this difficult. “I understand. You want to know why I asked you here.”

“It's only fair, considering you haven't so much as said 'hello' in over a month.”

Setting her teacup down, she places her hands in her lap. “I didn't appreciate your comments during the... incident... before the festival. It was unfair of me to expect you to take sides in a private dispute, but I still considered your words to be inappropriate and hurtful. I was also disappointed to hear that you had joined the Student Council, an action I considered foolish and poorly-thought out.”

And so the grievances come forth. That's my cue to leave. Halfway to standing up, Lilly finishes her thought in an uncharacteristic rush. “But I asked you here so I could apologize.”

I sit back down. “Thank you,” she whispers, a smile of genuine gratitude on her lips... and in her eyes, too.

“I was afraid that you'd become another of Shizune's sycophants, feeding her ego and making her even more unreasonable.”

I slam my hands on the table emphatically, causing Lilly to wince. “Misha's not a sycophant!”

Lilly closes her eyes, an unnecessary gesture, and picks up her tea, taking a small sip before continuing. “The word may be unkind, but the fact remains that, at the time, Misha would never oppose Shizune. Rather, she would agree with whatever Shizune stated to be true, regardless of reality.”

I want to disagree with her, but I'm not sure I can. Misha does hold Shizune in very high regard, and I don't think I've ever seen them really disagree on anything. But there's quite a difference between a sycophant and a like-minded individual.

“If this is no longer the case, allow me to commend the improvement. It wouldn't be the first unexpected development since you joined the Student Council.”

I frown, even though she can't see it. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Lilly opens her eyes halfway, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly in a self-satisfied grin. “My, my, you don't even realize the influence you've had. This is a small community. News travels fast. There are far fewer whispers about the 'Student Council dictator-for-life,' or the 'Silent Tyrant.' More surprising still, I've heard rumors that new students had joined the Council. Voluntarily, even.”

“I don't know about that first part, but the second part is true. We are getting new members.”

Her eyes opening all the way, Lilly leans back, cradling the teacup in her delicate hands. “To hear rumors is unbelievable enough. To find they are true is entirely unexpected. If I may ask, who are the new members?”

“... I don't know,” I admit sheepishly. “I haven't been attending meetings. Misha and I have been skipping Student Council to help her get caught up on her schoolwork.”

The way she derives pleasure from my every word makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong. “My, my, aren't we full of surprises? May I then assume that the other rumors are true?” I tense, unsure of how to respond to the accusation. “You have started interpreting for Shizune as well?”

Caught completely off guard, I’m forced to simply confirm the assumption. “Yeah, I'm interpreting for Shizune, too.”

“Very well.” She focuses her sightless gaze on me with an unnerving accuracy. “I take it you are aware of the great trust placed in your care by this duty, yes?”

Nervously fiddling with my hands, I'm forced to concede that I have no idea what trust she's talking about. I feel like I need a pencil or something to keep them busy.

Taking a long sip of tea, Lilly closes her eyes, then begins speaking as if she were presenting a lecture. “We may make it seem easy, like we aren't bothered by our disabilities, but they are a problem, and we rely on certain accommodations to get by. If you're going to play even a partial role as Shizune's interpreter, you need to understand the obligations that entails. An interpreter's duty is to translate exactly, no matter how foul, offensive, or otherwise unpleasant. Shizune and I, or anyone else, for that matter, put our trust in you to convey our words exactly. It's very disrespectful for you to change what we say so that no one's feelings get hurt. And the truth will come out eventually.”

I never thought of it that way, but she has a point. I wouldn't lie to Lilly to make her run into walls or fall down stairs, even if it were for her own good. Lying to Shizune about what I hear would be just as bad.

One thing seems out of place, though. “It's great that you're telling me all this, Lilly, but why do you care? I thought you and Shizune were enemies.”

“You do have a point,” she chuckles morosely, “but we used to be very close friends. You wouldn't believe it based on how we act now, but I was her closest friend before she met Misha. And even if we had never been friends, she's still family.”

Family? “You mean that you and Shizune-”

“-Are cousins, yes. You don't see the resemblance?” Lilly lets out a small, melodic laugh, amused by her own joke. “Although we don't always agree, I do care about Shizune. And I'm glad you're her friend. You're a good influence, Hisao.” With a radiant smile she adds, “You're good for Misha, too.”

I'm not certain how I should take that last comment, but she doesn't give me the chance to dwell on the question. “I should probably let you get ready for your outing, now. Thanks for listening.”

I don't remember mentioning my plans for the rest of the day. I narrow my eyes, even though she can't see them anyway. “How did you hear about that?”

With a giggle, Lilly tries to hide her grin by holding her teacup to her mouth for another drink. “I told you, Hisao, this is a small school. And Misha wasn't terribly secretive about it this morning.”

“Oh,” I reply, disarmed by the obvious retort, “I guess I'll see you later, then.”

*

Even taking extra time to take a shower and wash my hair, I'm ready to go in a matter of minutes. I skipped the shower this morning, since Misha was so eager to go to breakfast. I have no idea how girls can possibly turn getting ready into an hours-long event. I’m not sure what they expect me to wear, other than Shizune's statement that we were going to “a nice dinner,” so I turn to my secret weapon: the sweatervest. Casual enough to pass for everyday wear, but formal enough that you don't look underdressed until people start requiring a coat and tie, it is the ultimate article of clothing. It's a bit warm to wear a sweatervest in the middle of summer, but fashion always has a price.

I make my way to Rin's mural. It's only been a month since she finished, but it's already been turned into a landmark. Amazingly enough, Shizune and Misha are already there, and they don't seem very pleased that I kept them waiting.

Shizune is wearing a halter-top dress, with a black skirt and white bodice. A broad red belt rounds out her outfit. Not too casual, not too formal. Another victory for the sweatervest.

I find my eyes are drawn much more readily to Misha. She's wearing a little black sleeveless dress, largely unadorned. Her accessories are simple, a small gold locket around her neck, and a thin pink belt with a heart-shaped buckle around her waist. The simplicity of her outfit is easily explained by her hair. I'm surprised to find that it's styled much the same as it had been earlier today, if a little more controlled. It cascades over her shoulders and down her back, giving enough texture and variety that there's no need for accessories. Or room, for that matter.

As I approach, Misha looks rather annoyed, and wastes no time in giving me an earful. “You're late, Hicchan! We went through all that trouble to make sure we're ready, and then you can't even be bothered to show up on time~!”

While Misha berates me, Shizune steps up purposefully and promptly begins attacking me. Well, attacking my hair. When did she start caring about my hair? And when did she get comfortable with physical contact? She usually goes through a lot of effort to avoid touching people, and now she can’t keep her hands off me?

Dodging left and right to look around Shizune, I frown at Misha’s accusation. Her logic seems off. “How am I late? You said you would take a couple of hours at noon. It's 1:30 now. I'd say that makes me early.”

My reply stops Misha dead in her tracks. She gets a thoughtful expression, glances at her fingers quickly, then resorts to a huge grin. “You don't expect us to hold to such a strict schedule, do you~?”

I try to bat away Shizune’s hands. I’ve been fighting a losing battle against my hair for nearly two decades, so I doubt she’ll win in five minutes. Sure enough, she eventually crosses her arms in frustration, letting out a silent exasperated breath.

Rid of my distraction, I point out the hole in Misha’s reasoning. “Not sticking to a schedule only works if you're arriving late.”

She doesn’t bother responding; she just gives me a broad grin. Shizune snaps loudly to get our attention before we can continue. [We're wasting time. Everyone is here now. A taxi should be waiting for us outside the gates.]

A taxi seems pretty expensive for a trip to the city. I expected to be taking the bus. How much money is Shizune spending on this trip?

Act 2 Scene 6 | Act 2 Scene 7 Part 2

Shizune takes the front seat, leaving Misha and me in the back. Not that I mind.

I glance over at her. She's bouncing up and down excitedly, watching everything pass by in the window. “I thought you were going to style your hair for this trip.”

She freezes, almost as if she had forgotten I was even there. Wriggling in her seat to meet my gaze, she twirls a few strands of hair with her finger as she responds. “I was~, but Shicchan said she thought I should wear my hair like this for the afternoon. She said it works well with this dress, and she was right~, too! Shicchan's so smart and thoughtful like that~.”

I notice that her lips seem a little fuller, her cheeks a little rosier, and her eyes a little... shadowier? “Make-up looks good on you.”

Misha looks like she can barely keep from laughing. It’s a wonder that she's actually restraining herself. “That's a silly thing to say~, Hicchan. I wear make-up every day!” The pressure is too much, and she bursts out into full laughter. “Wahahahahaha~!”

The taxi driver winces. I sometimes forget how loud Misha can be.

Misha's still giving me a friendly smile. “It's okay if you didn't notice, Hicchan~. You aren't supposed to be able to tell if a girl's wearing make-up.”

Her eyes dart back and forth, and they take on a mischievous glint that spreads to the rest of her face. “You want to know a secret, Hicchan?”

Without waiting for my answer, she continues. “I helped Shicchan put on her make-up today! Hahahaha~! She's never worn make-up before! That makes sense, though. She's pretty, so she doesn't have to wear make-up~. That reminds me! Did I ever tell you about the time that me and Shicchan lost her glasses at the Shanghai~?”

*

As Shizune pays the driver, Misha and I stretch out after the long car trip. I spent the latter half of the drive hearing all about the various misadventures Misha and Shizune had over the past year and a half. Most of them were relatively mundane, and usually involved Misha making a fool of herself, with Shizune saving the day through quick thinking. Not that I'd have imagined things working out otherwise. Misha really seems to idolize Shizune.

Taking in the sights, the smells, and the sounds, everything strikes me as familiar, even though I've never been to this city before. It feels like home. Misha looks like a kid in a candy store, turning this way and that in wide-eyed wonder, trying desperately to experience everything all at once.

“It's the city~! Yay, yay, yay~! Hooray~!”

Having taken care of payment, Shizune joins the two of us. [Dinner won't be for another hour or two. What do we want to do until then?]

I don't really have an opinion, but even if did, Misha answers faster than I ever could. [Let's go shopping!]

With no opposing votes, we walk down streets seemingly at random, doing more window shopping than anything else. Once I get used to walking and browsing, they decide to mix things up by actually entering a store. A clothing store, of course.

They spend some time browsing the racks and signing excitedly back and forth. It's nice to see them outside the context of school, doing normal everyday things. If it weren't for the sign language, they would look just like any two girls from a normal school. That's what they are, though - normal teenage girls. You aren't a different person because part of you is missing, or doesn't work right. It seems so obvious now, but it felt like a major insight when it first occurred to me.

Grabbing a few items they like, the girls make their way to the dressing rooms, and I don't really have a choice but to follow. I think the stores put the dressing rooms in the middle of the lingerie section on purpose, just to make guys feel uncomfortable.

Out of curiosity, I glance at one of the price tags...

That is way too many zeroes for a few square inches of cloth.

“Oh, Hicchan, did you find something you want us to try on~?”

Misha prances over and snatches the article in question from the display, then starts eying it appraisingly.

Folding it neatly, she turns to Shizune. “What do you think Shicchan? Does Hicchan have good taste?”

Shizune grins cruelly as she signs her reply. [It looks nice enough, but red's not really my color. It would be good on you, though.]

“You think so? It looks like it would ride up pretty bad~.”

[Actually, a lot of girls find them more comfortable than the regular type.]

I can tell they're just being theatrical and teasing me. At least, I think they are. I hope they are.

Putting on her “thinking face,” Misha taps her chin a couple times. “Hmmm... nope, not today, Hicchan. Unless~ you were actually thinking about getting them as a gift~.” Misha shows off all her teeth in a wide grin before continuing. “In that case~, I'm pretty sure I already told you that green is best~.”

If memory serves, I told her that green is best. She then surprises me by leaning in extremely close to the side of my head, to the point where I can feel her breath on my ear. I can hear the glee in her voice as she whispers just a bit too loud, “And Shicchan likes black.”

A whisper seems odd, considering Shizune's deaf as it is. And her volume makes it seem like she wanted people to hear. Did Misha sign that bit while she was saying it? I couldn't see her hands with her leaning in so close. Either way, I think I'm starting to feel lightheaded from all the blood rushing to my face. The subject matter, the closeness of Misha's body, and the unbidden mental images are all bad for my heart rate, so I fumble for a way to change the subject. “Er... what time is it?”

Misha looks confused for a moment, as if she had forgotten why we came to the city in the first place. She turns to Shizune, who has already produced her phone in response to my question. [He's right, we need to get to the restaurant.]

Misha and Shizune take a moment to buy a few things they tried on, then Shizune leads the way as we head out.

*
As it turns out, Shizune chose a very fancy place. Not so much that we're underdressed, but a relatively formal affair nonetheless. She did say it was going to be a nice meal out, and that she'd pay for it, but this place looks extremely expensive. I get the sense that Shizune comes from a very wealthy family. It would be rather concerning if she wasn't, considering the way she's been throwing money around today. The waiter leads us to a table, and we take our seats.

Shortly after we get settled Shizune jumps. Pulling out her phone, which is still vibrating, she takes a glance at it. [Student Council business. This should only take a moment.]

Shizune types a quick response into her phone, and is about to set it down when it vibrates again. Frowning, she taps a few more buttons, and her expression darkens. She starts typing again, only to be interrupted by a near constant buzz as the phone shakes from a rapid series of messages.

She sets it down and looks up at us remorsefully. [This looks pretty important. Someone’s on his way to meet me. He’s already in the city, so he’ll be in the area in a few minutes. I’m going to have to meet with him to sort this out.] A tremor runs through the whole table as she receives another message.

I frown. If it can't wait, it must be pretty serious. [Should we reschedule?]

She smiles at me, as if to say “really, it's no trouble.” [No, you two start without me. I shouldn't be too long. Feel free to get whatever you want. Don’t worry about the prices. I’m paying, and you deserve it.]

And with that, she turns away, taking advantage of the fact that we couldn't get her attention without tackling her.

Misha looks as disappointed with the interruption as I feel. “That's a shame~. I hope it's nothing too~ serious.”

She did tell us to go on without her. I'm afraid of what she'd do if we didn't listen. And this isn't the first time she's paid for us, even though this place looks to be very expensive.

Seemingly able to read my thoughts, Misha picks up the menu and starts reading it, making odd expressions as she considers the options, “Hicchan, do you mind~ if I choose what you order?”

“Huh?”

She turns the menu around to reveal a bunch of tiny print in a fancy western script. And really high prices. “You probably don't know what half of these are~, and, even if you did, you can't read French.”

The menus are in French? Leave it to Shizune to find a French restaurant in the middle of Japan. “You can?” I ask incredulously.

She smiles broadly, “How could I say I love food if I didn't know a little French?”

I'm not sure how this follows, but she doesn't bother explaining.

Setting the menu down, she turns her attention to a smaller menu and starts scanning the contents. “Two more years~...”

She sounds as if she's reminding herself of something. “What's in two years?”

Misha gives me a puzzled look. I nod at the smaller menu, which elicits a giggle. “Hahaha, you don't recognize this, Hicchan~? It's a menu for alcohol~!”

That explains the “two years” comment. “I didn't take you for the drinking type.”

“Wahahahaha~! I'm not right now~! But~! But when I'm old enough to drink, I think I should. Good food needs good drink, after all~. Hahahaha!”

I glance around, nervous that Misha might be causing a disturbance. Surprisingly, no one seems to even notice us.

When the waiter comes to take our orders, Misha orders for the two of us, using foreign words I could swear weren't anywhere on the menu. I may not know French, but I can certainly read Western characters, and they look nothing like what Misha’s saying.

“So,” I break the silence, “what am I going to be eating tonight?”

She deflects the question with one of her trademark smiles. “It's a se-cret~! Don't worry, I'm sure~ you'll like it.”

I feel a little insulted by her refusal to tell me. “You're afraid I won't eat it if I know what it is.”

She stops to ponder my comment, as if the thought never occurred to her. “Would you refuse to eat something if you knew what it was~?”

“...Probably,” I admit. “I tend to think too much about weird food.”

“Wahahaha~! That settles it. I won't tell you what you ate until tomorrow night!”

“Why tomorrow night?”

“Because~! By tomorrow night, it won't matter what you ate~!”

It appears that Misha ordered several courses for each of us. She offers me bites of her dishes, but steals food off my plate without even asking. I don't mind, but it is a pretty unfair double standard. She'd probably make a scene if I tried to steal her food. It's all very good, though. Even the bits with cheese.

There's still no sign of Shizune as we finish our main courses. I'm starting to worry about what might have happened. She's been having meetings with the administrators and the board of directors, so maybe it has something to do with funding...

While I work on polishing off the last of my meal, Misha runs a finger along the rim of her glass in a lazy circle. With her golden eyes watching me, she strikes me as some sort of pink-haired predator. “I've been wondering~, Hicchan. When a boy likes~ a girl, when do you think he should confess~?”

When should a boy confess? That's a hard question. “I don't know. I guess the boy should make sure the girl likes him first, and should only confess when he's certain. You don't want to lose a friendship because of a silly misunderstanding, right?”

She frowns, clearly disappointed in my answer. “That's boring, Hicchan. What if the girl is traditional, and expects the guy to make the first move? Or what if she's too shy to let the boy know she likes him? If they follow your advice, they'll never find out they like each other. That would be sad...”

She has a point. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “That's true, but what if the girl doesn't like the boy?”

She bites her lip before responding. “Well~, if they're really friends, they can just let the misunderstanding go and still be friends, right~?”

I hesitate. I don't think she really believes what she's saying. Does she want me to reassure her? “You're right. A good friendship can survive silly misunderstandings like that.”

I try to give her a smile, but it feels forced. She doesn't seem to notice. “Exactly, Hicchan~! So there's never any reason to not confess, right~? Right! Ahahahaha!”

“Yeah,” I respond, with a more genuine grin, “no reason not to.”

Contented, she smiles serenely. “I hope you find a good opportunity to confess to her soon, Hicchan.”

That closing comment hits me like a ton of bricks. Clearly, she has me figured out. But it's encouraging. She wants me to confess. Not now, though. She's right, this isn't a good opportunity. Not with Shizune likely to return any minute.

What happened with Shizune? I'm really concerned now; she said she wouldn’t be long, and now we've almost finished eating. Misha doesn't seem worried, though. I resolve to enjoy the evening however it plays out. After we get back to school, I'll see if I can talk to Misha alone. She wants me to tell her how I feel, and, frankly, so do I.

In short order, we're served dessert. Misha seems to have ordered a pretty elaborate and fancy looking parfait for herself, and, judging by the appearance, triple chocolate chocolate with shaved chocolate and drizzled with chocolate flavored chocolate for me. Misha wastes no time in attacking her dish. Literally. She calls it “mixing,” but I think a more appropriate term is “mercilessly mashing everything into an indistinguishable grey sludge.” Oddly enough, I think I'm getting used to her treatment of parfaits. At the very least, my stomach doesn't turn cartwheels from seeing her eat them anymore.

Curiosity overwhelms me. It's not like I've been able to complain about her taste in food so far. “Do you think I could have a taste?”

Her spoon hovers halfway to her mouth as her eyes meet mine. “You want to try it, Hicchan? I thought you said you didn't like parfait~.”

A glob of goop slips off the utensil and falls to the tablecloth. Remembering the precious cargo she's holding, Misha delivers the rest of the spoon's contents to her mouth. Her reaction to the flavor makes it seem like she enjoys parfaits somewhat more than is decent. “I... think I changed my mind about them. You have good taste in food.”

She blushes slightly. “Well, I can't say no to flattery like that~! Have a bite, then!”

With a huge grin, she scoops a heaping spoonful and shoves it toward me until it's inches from my face. I reach my hand up to take it from her, but, for whatever reason, she doesn't let go. Gently pulling her hand closer, I lean forward and manage to get my mouth around the spoon and its contents. This feels like it's straddling the line between intimate and awkward. The parfait is surprisingly good. I doubt I'll ever enjoy it to quite the same level Misha does, but I'm okay with that.

Somehow, while I was distracted with the parfait, Misha managed to steal a rather large bite of my own dessert. She doesn't hide her crime at all, with evidence all over her lips and chin. Aside from the fact that she managed to stuff the food into her cheeks like a squirrel. We certainly make an odd pair. And hopefully, quite soon, we can be an odd couple.

When I ask for the check, the waiter politely informs me that “the shy girl” that came in with us paid before she left. It’s a good thing she thought to make sure we weren’t stuck with the bill. Shame that something came up so suddenly, though. As we gather our things together, Misha takes a look at her phone. “Oh~! Shicchan sent me a message!”

Excitedly, she begins to read the message, but her enthusiasm wanes as she continues. “Shicchan says she had to go back to school, so she won’t be meeting up with us. We're in luck, though~! Akira's in the area, and can take us back to Yamaku~!”

“Who's Akira?”

“That's right, you never met her.” Misha smiles brightly. “Don't worry about that, though. She's fun. I'm sure she'll like you~.”

Her? She?

We only wait for a few minutes before a fancy-looking car pulls up. The window rolls down to reveal an androgynous figure in a business suit, probably a few years older than us. Her voice is a little gruff, but definitely female. “Is that you, Misha? Hard to tell these days without the curls. It's a good style for you. Shizune asked me to take you kids back to Yamaku, so hop in.”

Misha takes the front seat, forcing me to sit in the back. The back isn't empty, though. It's occupied by... Shizune?

No, that's not Shizune. This girl is wearing an entirely different outfit. Much more garish than anything Shizune would wear. She also has a much smaller chest. Shizune's little sister, then? As I climb into the car, she greets me. “Hello.”

I blink. Brother, then. That raises more questions than it answers. He sizes me up with the exact same judgmental gaze that Shizune's so fond of. “You are one of Shizune's friends?”

I nod. “Yeah, we're friends.”

He returns the gesture, filing the knowledge away for later use, and resumes studying me.

“Don't mind Hideaki,” Akira calls back, “just punch him in the arm if he makes you feel uncomfortable.”

That doesn't sound like a good idea. I feel like I'd break his arm before he stops making me feel uncomfortable.

“Shizune would not approve of that. Neither would father.” Although Hideaki's expression is one of clear alarm at the idea of being punched in the arm, his voice sounds more robotic than a text-to-speech program. I get the sinking feeling that this is probably the same brother that Shizune uses to read her speeches and presentations.

Akira gives a gruff laugh. “If they have a problem with it, they can bite me.”

“If you don't mind me asking, isn't Akira usually a boy's name?”

“Heh,” she replies, “You just come out and ask it. You've got balls. I like that, so I'm letting you get away with it. This time. It's Scottish. Akira's a girl's name in Scotland.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The drive continues in silence. Hideaki stares at me the whole time, barely blinking. Is he trying to memorize me for some reason? Is he like Shizune, analysing me to determine any and all weaknesses, for some nefarious purpose? I try to ignore him.

After a while, Akira breaks the silence. “Have you gotten tired of pink hair yet, Misha?”

Misha sounds a little exasperated as she responds to Akira's question. “The answer's the same as the last time you asked~. I like~ my hair like this.”

“Whatever. It's your life.” Were it not such a contrast to her cool businesslike demeanor, I'd almost say that Akira sounds like a nagging mother. “I just think your natural hair color is a better fit.”

I can't help but cut in. “Natural hair color?”

Looking in the rear-view mirror, I can see Akira arch an eyebrow. “Of course. You didn't think her hair was naturally pink, did you?”

“I guess not, no.” I'll admit, I actually did. I have seen stranger things. Besides, Misha didn't really strike me as the sort who would dye her hair a wild color. I wonder what her natural hair color is, and why she seems so opposed to it...

*

Because we had an early dinner and it's the middle of Summer, the sun still hasn't set by the time we arrive at Yamaku.

Akira stops the car in front of the gates. “Well, here we are. You kids try not to get into too much trouble, okay?”

“Okay~! Thanks for the ride~!” Misha waves vigorously as Akira drives away.

“Is Akira an old friend of yours?”

Misha bites her lip slightly before answering. “Sort of. She's more friends with Shicchan, though~. They've known each other for a long time.”

Not the sort of friend I'd expect Shizune to have, but there's probably a story there somewhere.

Well, no sense putting this off any longer. “Hey, Misha, “ I begin, “do you want to go for a walk?”

“A walk?” I almost think I can hear the gears turning as she considers the offer. She gives me a wide, warm smile. “Okay~! That sounds like fun~!”

We walk around the grounds for a while. It's quiet. There aren't many students out and about after classes on a Saturday. Eventually, we find a bench in the gardens and sit down. The sun sits low in the sky, painting everything in reds and yellows. I glance over at Misha. She looks beautiful in this light. She looks beautiful in most light, I've come to realize. I don't think I'd mind staying with her forever like this.

How to begin... “Misha, at dinner, you asked me when I thought a guy should confess.”

She meets my eyes with her own. The corners of her mouth turn up in a slight grin. “Yup~, that's right. What about it?”

“I,” I hesitate, swallowing, “I think I might be ready to confess to a girl.”

“Hicchan,” she grins even wider, flashing her teeth. Flirtatious as ever, she takes on a slightly teasing tone. “Are you saying that you like me?”

Flirting aside, that was more forward than I was expecting. I can feel my heart racing, but I feel good about it. I've had a faster heart rate during my morning exercises. Taking a breath, I admit what I've been holding in. “Yes, Misha, I do like you.”

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, she bursts into laughter. My heart sinks. That's rarely a good sign. “Wahahahaha~!” Leaning toward me ever so slightly, she puts on her best “cute” face, even going so far as to flutter her eyelashes. “I know you like me as a friend, Hicchan. I want to know if you like~ me. As more than just a friend.”

I relax a little. She’s still smiling, and her eyes are focused on me, waiting for my answer. If she noticed the disappointment on my face, she isn’t showing it. That wasn't a rejection, just Misha being obtuse. “I... I know. I do like you. As more than a friend.”

She didn't seem to be expecting this, and recoils slightly, shocked as my response sinks in. And then she laughs again. “Ahahahaha~! It's not nice to tease an impressionable young girl like that, Hicchan~! Hahahaha~!”

“I'm serious!” I shout, probably a bit more forcefully than I should. “I like you Misha. I like you a lot. And... and I want you to be my girlfriend!”

She's stunned. She stares at me, her mouth hanging open slightly. I bring my hand up and softly touch her cheek with my knuckles. She doesn't shy away, and I cup my hand against the side of her face, my fingers brushing the tip of her ear. I gently pull her face closer to mine. She responds by reaching her arms around my back, pulling me closer with one hand between my shoulder blades and the other near the top of my neck. Our lips meet.

Her lips are soft and yielding, yet firm when she returns the kiss. I adjust my arms behind her back and we embrace, pulling each other closer as we lose ourselves in the moment. Her lips taste faintly of melon, making the kiss a tiny bit more pleasant in a surprising way. The kiss is thrilling, and every instant of our embrace is a wonderful eternity. Nevertheless, it's over too soon. We separate ever so slightly, to regain our breath. Misha seems particularly flushed, and my heart is beating rapidly, but it's a good sort of excitement.

Misha's face reflects a mixture of several emotions, overlapping so much that it's impossible to pick just one out. Her voice is unusually quiet as she touches her lips, looking at her fingers as if she could see some proof of the kiss. “Is this... Did that really just happen, Hicchan?”

“Yeah, it did happen.” I can barely believe it myself. I'm riding high on the emotional release, glad that this is all over with now.

Misha almost seems distressed, though. She looks down at her knees and whispers something, but I can’t quite hear it. In spite of the heat, she shivers and wraps her arms around herself tightly.

That’s not a normal reaction. I get a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. “What was that?”

Pulling her feet up onto the bench, she starts hugging her knees, as if she were trying to cram herself into as small a space as possible. She whispers again, but this time it’s loud enough that I can hear her. “No.”

“No?” There’s no way that can be a good word.

Her head moves up and I can see her eyes, full of panic. “This is wrong, Hicchan~.”

“I don't understand. You don't like me?” Then what was the kiss about?

“No, Hicchan. I do like you~. A lot. But this isn't right~. It isn't supposed to be like this!”

I hear her voice catching a couple times, as if she were trying not to cry. “You're not making any sense, Misha. I like you, and you like me. What's wrong about that?”

Anger flashes in her eyes for an instant, and she shouts at me. “Can't you see, Hicchan? You're making a mistake!”

No sooner do the words leave her mouth than she regrets them. She looks absolutely terrified, and I think I can see tears beginning to well up in her eyes. She turns away from me. “I need to go.”

Not waiting for a response, she gets up and walks away briskly. I could probably run to catch her, but something tells me that would just make a bad situation worse.

So I sit and watch her leave.

Act 2 Scene 7 Part 1 | Act 2 Scene 8

Ahh, such a conundrum when two friends trying to ship each other for the same guy. That little hint at dinner had me waiting the whole rest of the chapter for the other shoe to drop. Good times.

And honestly, green? Green sucks. Misaha would look much better in white or light yellow.

Misha, Misha, Misha~.