“So, hey—Kamiki,” said a voice from behind me. Startled, I spun around to see that it was only Hasumi, who had only just finished changing into his indoor shoes. “Correct me if I’m wrong, man, but don’t you and Tsukinoki go, like…way back?”
“I mean, yeah… We were pretty close back in the day. What about it?”
“Oh, nothin’. Just cool to see you guys are still such good friends, is all. I mean, you’re like two entirely different genres of person now, y’know?”
“Genres? What the hell is that supposed to mean? And we’re really not that close anymore, FYI… Kinda can’t stand being around the guy, if I’m being honest.”
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“It’s nothing against him, I just… I dunno. It’s like anytime I talk to him, I feel like such a loser in comparison…”
“Damn. That’s some complex you got there, my man. I’d get that checked out if I were you—unless you wanna be a loner your whole life, that is.”
“Aw, shut up. You’re no social butterfly yourself.”
“No, but I’ve got more friends than you, at least.”
Urgh. He was right about that. I knew Hasumi had a decent number of friends in the school table tennis club (who, I assumed, were the kids from other classes I often saw him eating lunch with). I, meanwhile, was not involved in any extracurricular activities whatsoever, so I didn’t have any grounds to make a witty comeback here.
“Well, not that I can’t see where you’re coming from, to be fair,” Hasumi added—kindly throwing my dignity a bone. “I mean, I’d probably feel like a loser too if I was being compared to Tsukinoki all the time. That kid’s so talented, I feel like he’s gotta be from a different planet or something.”
“Right?” I said. “Yeah, trust me—if you’d been his friend all your life, I guarantee you’d be more sympathetic to my struggle.”
With our indoor shoes on, Hasumi and I made our way to Classroom 2-A.
“All right, everyone! Let’s all take our seats now.”
With that, Ms. Iyo took her place at the lectern on the raised podium, and morning homeroom period began. As always, she wore a smart pair of women’s slacks, a finely tailored dress shirt with nary a wrinkle to be seen, and her long, black hair tied up in the back. She was the very picture of professionalism—and her perfect teeth and beaming smile only served to complete the ensemble.
“Okay, we’ve got a few housekeeping notes to start things off today. First of all, it seems there’s been a distinct uptick in the number of students visiting the nurse’s office due to stomach problems. The humidity this time of year may be partially to blame, as it does cause food to spoil more quickly, so those of you who bring your own lunches should be extra vigilant. Thankfully, like many of you, I get my lunches at the school store, so I don’t have to worry about that. Oh, but not because I can’t be bothered to make my own lunches at home, mind you! I just—”
As I let Ms. Iyo’s words go in one ear and out the other, I cast a sidelong glance over at Ushio, who was sitting up straight and listening attentively to our teacher’s little spiel—unlike most of the class (myself included), who were slouched over and present in body alone. Looking at him right now, towering over the rest of us with his elegant posture, he really did give off a strange air of superiority—almost like he was from a whole different planet, as Hasumi put it.
Looking at him now, it was hard to believe we’d been such good friends up through elementary school. Best friends, one might even say. We hung out virtually every day, spending the night at each other’s houses and everything. At the time, I naturally assumed we’d be friends for life.
But things didn’t pan out that way.
After we got to junior high, I started actively avoiding Ushio. He was the ever-popular star athlete with good looks. And then there was me: just a shy, plain-looking scrub of a guy with no real skills to speak of whatsoever. The older we got, the more the disparity in our respective talents—or lack thereof—became clear. Consequently, I started to feel embarrassed just by virtue of being seen around him. That wasn’t the only reason I started avoiding Ushio, though. That only really started after a particular incident during our second year of junior high.
There was a girl I liked at the time, one I’d actually gotten pretty close with. She was always coming over to talk to me between classes, and we’d even walk home together after school sometimes. After a while, I felt pretty confident that she liked me too, so I bit the bullet and confessed my feelings to her.
“I’m sorry… You’re really sweet, but Ushio-kun’s the one I… I…”
She didn’t even have to finish her sentence. I knew right then and there what she was trying to say—and why she made an effort to get close to me in the first place. They say love can make a person blind, and while I always thought that was just one of those shallow, antiquated mantras old people loved to spout at the younger generation to sound wiser and more experienced, it certainly held true in this case. Had I been more rational, I would have figured it out far, far sooner from the way she was always asking about what TV shows Ushio liked to watch, what video games he already owned, et cetera. After getting home that night, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything other than wallow in my own misery; that had been the first time in my life I’d ever tried asking someone out, so the shock and disappointment of rejection stung all the worse.
From that day forward, not only did I (obviously) never speak to that girl again, but I also found myself having an awfully hard time talking to Ushio anymore—or even looking him in the eye. Of course, I knew he’d done nothing wrong. The girl hadn’t intended to hurt me either, even if she had ulterior motives. The only one who’d truly betrayed me was myself—by deluding myself into thinking I had a chance—and that hurt the most. With no other guilty party to blame, all I could do was tumble deeper and deeper into a spiraling pit of self-loathing. I started turning Ushio down every single time he invited me to hang out, or team up in gym class, or do group projects together. It didn’t take long at all after that for him to start spending far more of his time with his louder and more outgoing friends, while I became that kid who just sat in a corner of the classroom reading books all the time.
Since there weren’t many high schools in our general vicinity, it was no surprise that we ended up applying for and advancing to the same one. Even then, nothing really changed. He was still the most popular kid in class, while I was just some extra—Rando Student #1. This suited me just fine, though; at least now I knew how to stay in my lane.
Bit of a random aside, but I did hear that the girl who turned me down went on to ask Ushio out just a few days later, only to get promptly shot down herself. This revelation did rub salt in the wound a little bit, but I stopped caring soon enough. She and I never exchanged another word after the day I asked her out, so I had no idea what she was up to now or even what high school she was going to, for that matter.
“…which is why you definitely never want to get food poisoning from chicken, if you can help it… Wait, hang on. I just realized—is Natsuki not here with us today?”
This sudden break in Ms. Iyo’s rambling snapped me back to my senses. I turned my gaze from Ushio over to Hoshihara’s seat, only to find that it was indeed unoccupied. Just as Ms. Iyo wondered aloud if perhaps she was simply running late, the classroom door swung wide open, and in barged one last student.
“Phew! Made it just in time!”
Her loosely permed hair swayed softly from the change in momentum as she screeched to a stop. This was the previously assumed absentee, one Natsuki Hoshihara, and it seemed she’d sprinted all the way here, judging by her labored breathing.
After catching her breath for a moment, she turned to Ms. Iyo and offered a sheepish little smile. “Good morning, Ms. Iyo-chan!” she said.
“Yes, morning,” replied Ms. Iyo. “Glad you could join us. Almost had to write you up a tardy slip. Did you sleep in or something?”
“Yeah, so the thing is, I actually took a nap on the train and ended up missing my stop… That was a real fun surprise to wake up to, lemme tell ya.”
“‘Fun’ is probably not the word I’d use to describe it. Come on, Natsuki. You’ve gotta be a bit more careful than that.”
“Will do, sorry!”