There I was, next to Yanami-san, walking down the hallway together. What was I even supposed to say? I glanced at her.
Yanami Anna. She was certainly pretty. Fluffy, flowing hair. Big, round eyes. Gentle features. I could see why she was so popular with the guys. Like, let’s just get it out there. This girl had the looks. Hakamada. My man. This girl was your best friend for over a decade? What were you thinking, passing her up? Sure, Himemiya Karen was potentially prettier, had bigger personalities, more grace…
“Whatcha starin’ at?” Yanami leaned over and peered at me.
“N-noth—uh, nothing,” I stammered, tearing my eyes from her face. Those thoughts were best kept to myself.
“So tell me,” she whispered real low, stepping in close. I swear she knew what she was doing. “Was that little act back there just for me?”
“I-it looked like you needed a hand. Sorry if I was butting in or whatever.”
“Nah. Thanks. I was straight up about to rip those udders clean off her chest.” She didn’t even blink as she said this. “Where are we going, anyway? The teacher doesn’t actually want me, I assume.”
“Only one reason Amanatsu-sensei would put us on self-study,” I said. “She forgot the printouts again. Might as well help her before all hell breaks loose.”
Amanatsu Konami was our homeroom and social studies teacher, and she was a chronic truant. Not on purpose, mind you. She just had a bad habit of mixing up the class schedule, forgetting her materials, walking into the wrong class, and she probably had trouble remembering to breathe too. Generally, self-study meant she had forgotten her materials.
I opened the door to the printing room, entirely unsurprised to find Amanatsu-sensei, yet somewhat surprised at the state she was in.
“Er, is everything okay?” I asked.
It was like a paper factory had exploded in there. Papers littered the floor, the table, and of course covered the printer with which Amanatsu-sensei was presently doing battle. She was a minuscule creature, easily mistaken for a student were she in uniform. And a creature she was.
“Ah, Yanami!” she said. “You should be in class, you knwakh!”
Amanatsu-sensei slipped on one of the papers on the floor, and down she went, flat on her face, sending yet more papers flying. Some called her clumsy. I called her a walking safety hazard.
“Thought you could maybe use some help,” said Yanami.
“Right you are! Be a pal and get me enough copies for the class, wouldja?”
We knelt down and started examining the paper carpet at our feet. Which sheets were we meant to be copying? Only God knew. The allotted ten-minute self-study time had come and gone by the time the three of us managed to fish out the right papers.
“I really nailed today’s lesson too. It’s gonna knock your socks off,” Amanatsu-sensei said proudly.
To her credit, she did put a lot of effort into her lesson plans. I took a peek at one of the copies.
“Sensei, we haven’t covered this material,” I said. “I thought we were doing Chinese history today.”
“Look, bub, I dunno who you are, but you must have a few screws loose,” she ranted. “Second-years cover the Byzantine Empire in July, and don’t you forget it. Which you won’t once you learn just how moe those guys were.”
“Ma’am, you’re teaching class 1-C.” Which happened to be mine, fun fact.
“I’m what?!” All our work fluttered to the floor once again. “I can save this! We’ve still got forty minutes. That’s plenty of time to get a lesson together!”
Maybe not enough to have the lesson, I thought.
Amanatsu-sensei flew from the printing room (but not before face-planting one more time). A real piece of art, that pedagogue.
The chaos settled, leaving us in its wake.
“Guess we should start cleaning.”
“Probably,” Yanami said. “She’s never gonna get a new act, is she?”
We got to tidying up, and the silence quickly became awkward. What did boys typically say to girls when they were alone together in a printing room? I wasn’t sure, but I did remember something important.
I cleared my throat. “So, uh, about the money I lent you Friday.”
“Oh, duh! I don’t actually have my wallet on me right now. Can you meet me at the old annex during lunch?” Yanami asked. “The fire escape stairs on the side.”
“Huh? Uh, sure, I guess. Long as I get my money.” She probably didn’t want her friends in class catching her with a dork like me—or the guy who friend-zoned her, come to think of it.
I picked the papers back up, completely unfazed by the implications, and handed them to Yanami. She tapped them upright against the table, straightening the stack.
“You’ve probably noticed that they’re dating now,” she said quietly, eyes like a dead fish. She continued tapping the papers against the table.
“Sorta, I guess,” I admitted. “I think you got those papers straight, by the way.”
“Did you hear them inviting me to lunch? Wonder what that’s about.” The papers crinkled in her grip. “What if they’re doing it on purpose? Trying to show off?” Scrunch.
“I mean, I only know him from group work, but he seems like a decent guy to me. I don’t think he’d do that, do you?”
“No,” she said. “No, you’re right. Sousuke wouldn’t do that.”
“We’re in agreement.”
“He’s an angel. Always has been. You should see his baby photos.” Yanami shut her eyes, seemingly departing planet Earth. “You can tell. It’s like he came straight from heaven. Oh, I just wanna post them online and watch the likes roll in!”
A good while passed while she giggled and reminisced to herself. After dawn, however, comes dusk.
“I get it now.” Flames flickered in her eyes, dark and foreboding. “It’s all her fault. She’s the problem.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Karen-chan’s trying to break me, squash me, stifle me, keep me down so I won’t touch her man,” she raved.
“Let’s take Hanlon’s razor to this, shall we?”
“And here I thought we were friends. Sousuke’s just under her spell. Yeah. That’s it. That little witch seduced him.” I recalled a time when Yanami had called Himemiya her “dear friend.” “There’s evil in those sandbags. Dark and pure and twisted evil. Tell me you’re with me, Nukumizu-kun.”
Personally, I sensed only hopes and dreams in them, but admitting that would have gotten me killed. I glanced at the door, praying to every god that my one way out would return. Moments later, the door miraculously flew open.
“Oh, thank god, you’re—”
“Viva Byzantium!” Amanatsu-sensei shrieked. Immediate red flags.
“What are you talking about?”
“Turns out I didn’t have jack for the first-years, so I was gonna just hide in the staff room until class was over. But then!” She had on the most smug grin. Society was doomed if these were the inheritors. “I was like, hey, why don’t I just enlighten the youngins? Come on, we’ve got Byzantine moe to proselytize!”
“Ma’am, please remember this is a school, not a church,” I said. I mean, I had prayed for this.
“Hey, I do my job just fine for the second-years.”
“What if you, I dunno, brought a textbook and taught from that?” I proposed. “That can’t be too hard. I believe in you.”
“Ehhh, but I haven’t prepared anything,” Amanatsu-sensei whined.
“Improvise.”
Somehow, my half-assed attempts at a pep talk worked. Amanatsu-sensei clenched her fist tight. “Yeah. Yeah! I’m a teacher! A teacher without a textbook.”
“We will get you a textbook.”
“D’aww, shucks. You’re a good kid. But you should really get to class, though. Your teacher’s probably wonderin’ where you ran off to.”
“You are my teacher, ma’am.”
I was starting to run dangerously low on quips.