The bell chimed. School was out. One’s first instinct would naturally be to book it, but hark, this was folly. The secret to the art of departure was patience. Danger lurked in a school of freshly liberated students, particularly at the doors. Social groups often picked these areas to loiter so as to ensure a pack didn’t leave without all of its respective members. They would not budge for a lowly background extra such as myself. ’Twas a vicious cycle, the life of one of the B-cast. One without escape.
I lazily gathered my things, keeping a close eye on the flow of people. The door was largely clear, but this was a trap. The pack remained. They had simply relocated to the shoe cupboards at the school entrance, where the loneliest and most stubborn of the bunch would often congregate. Worst-case scenario, they were gathered in front of my cupboard, and biding my time by pretending to forget which was mine wouldn’t fly this late into the semester.
Actually, come to think of it, I wasn’t supposed to leave today. It had completely slipped my mind that I was in the literature club now. For the time being, at least.
A man suddenly slipped into the classroom and came straight up to my desk. “Hey, Nukumizu-kun. I hear you’re in the lit club?”
“Huh?”
Ayano Mitsuki was his name, another familiar face from the same junior high as me. I wouldn’t have called us “friends,” per se. We’d just gone to the same cram school together, so we were technically on speaking terms. For the record, his grades were better than mine, and yes, he had glasses.
“Yeah?” I said. “I guess I am.”
“One of my teachers told me you guys have an Abe Kobo collection there,” said Ayano. “Could I swing by to borrow it sometime?”
I wouldn’t have known. All I’d cared to note were the light novels.
“Uhhh, probably. I’d have to ask my senpai.”
“I appreciate it.” He flashed a grin you just couldn’t hate, dropped a hand on my shoulder, and then made to saunter back toward the door.
Just then, a blur of golden brown spawned out of thin air in the corner of my periphery.
Yakishio Lemon thumped her tanned arms down onto my desk. “Hold up, Mitsuki!” She leaned in uncomfortably close, a mixture of 8×4 brand deodorant and sweat dominating my senses. Why me? “The team’s off today, so I was wondering if maybe you wanted to grab something to eat or whatever?”
“Sorry.” Ayano held his hands together in apology. “I’ve got cram school today.”
“Aww, c’mon!” Yakishio moaned. “We’re first-years. Don’t you know that all study and no play makes Jack a dumb boy?”
“I’d do a little less play and a little more studying unless you plan on being a first-year forever.”
Now they were just flirting. Right in front of me. Awesome.
Another girl poked her head into the class. “Mitsuki-san, we’re going to be late.”
I recognized her. She and Ayano had spent a lot of time together back when we shared a cram school. Her looks and grades had made her a bit of a celebrity at the time. Never would have guessed we went to the same high school.
“I’ll be right there, Chihaya,” Ayano said. “Later, Lemon.”
“Oh…” A rain cloud rolled in over Yakishio. “Okay. Bye.” She waved at him, slowly and lifelessly.
I was at my limit and ready to dip, but Yakishio was making that difficult given she was blocking me from grabbing my bag.
“E-excuse me. Yakishio-san?” I said. “I, uh, need my…”
“Hey, Nukumizu, are you and Mitsuki friends? I don’t think you were in our class last year.” She blinked at me, her long eyelashes far too close for comfort.
Yakishio Lemon was the star of the track team, their best sprinter, and arguably the star of the classroom as well. People gravitated to her. She had short hair, a gentle face, and the kind of toned figure and sun-kissed skin that could have stolen anyone’s breath away.
Once I’d recomposed myself, I said, “I, er, wouldn’t call us friends. We just went to the same cram school. Sometimes we talk.”
Yakishio’s eyes lit up. “Ohhh, I getcha! So you know who that girl is?!” She shoved her face right up to mine, throwing my poise to the wind yet again.
“A-Asagumo-san, I think her name is. They were in the accelerated course together. Pretty equal on grades, from what I remember.”
“O-oh. Okay.” She stared vacantly in the direction Ayano had left in. “I wonder if he likes smart girls better…”
Am I crazy, or…?
“To clarify,” I said, “they were together a lot, but they just looked like friends to me. Same course is all.”
“You’re so right!” Yakishio cheered. “I so got friend vibes too!”
She beamed like the sun. I chose not to touch on the question of their relationship outside of what I’d seen.
“Can I get my bag?” I asked.
“Oh, sorry. You know what? A good old-fashioned sprint should clear my head!”
She wasted no time and started stretching on the spot, her bronze limbs bare for all to see, before bolting out the door. I at last reached down for my bag and stood.
So many people, so many stories happening all around me, and I’d been none the wiser. My one wish was that I could at least continue to avoid the drama and live out my days in relative peace.
“Done with your chat, playboy?” With perfect contradictory timing, Yanami appeared behind me.
“Can I help you?” I said.
None of this made sense. First Yakishio, then Yanami. All the prettiest girls in school were practically lining up just to bug me. I braced my wallet for yet another loan.
Yanami smiled at me innocently. “We’re going to that club, aren’t we? I did say I was coming.”
I hadn’t believed her. Yanami Anna and books went together about as well as water and oil, I imagined. Still, it wasn’t my place to tell her no.
I nodded.