“Uh…”
When Ryuuji opened the door, he stood stock-still, at a loss for words. There were two chairs—no wait, three—flying through the air.
As they smashed onto the floor, he saw a single shadow in the middle of all the racket. It flitted across the edge of his vision, kicking at the chairs.
What on earth is going on? As Ryuuji narrowed his eyes into a dreadful glare, he was so bewildered by the truth that his breath stopped. He’d been asked to do some odd jobs after finishing the day’s chores, so it was long after the end of school—no one should have been in the classroom. But he’d seen her.
He was certain he saw a uniformed girl jump headfirst behind a locker to hide, at the very moment she caught sight of Ryuuji. He definitely saw her, right at that moment, and he had certainly heard the loud noise she made when she kicked at the chairs. On top of that, he could still see her. There was a full-length mirror set up on the classroom wall and her back and head were reflected there, facing away.
The little klutz had curled up into an incredibly tiny, compact ball—cowering. Completely unaware of the mirror, she was stretching her neck out and peeking stealthily out at Ryuuji.
Ryuuji swallowed and decided to pretend he hadn’t noticed—for that tiny, suspicious klutz’s identity was none other than…the Palmtop Tiger. The reflection of her back in the mirror gave him more than enough information to know for sure. Part of it was that long hair and the white profile of her face, but most of all it was because, out of everyone he knew, Aisaka was the only one who could make herself that tiny. But why her, out of all people? he wondered.
I saw nothing. I know nothing. I noticed nothing.
Taking that mantra to heart, Ryuuji proceeded into the room. He really didn’t want to go into the classroom, where the Palmtop Tiger lurked for reasons unknown, but he had left his bag on his desk, and he couldn’t just go home without it.
The classroom was silent in the twilight, as though he had crossed the threshold into some spider’s trap, a web spun by Aisaka. The moment he set foot in the room, it felt like his soul was being ripped from his body. Cautiously, gingerly, Ryuuji did his best to feign a casual air as he moved his feet. In order to avoid provoking Aisaka, he tried to play oblivious, but then…
“AAHHH!”
Ridiculously, a faint cry of urgent despair echoed throughout the classroom.
Something came rolling out that completely undid all of Ryuuji’s efforts. Aisaka Taiga, until then curled up, lost her balance. She flopped out from behind the locker with a forward somersault and, in a stroke of bad luck, landed right in front of Ryuuji.
“…”
“…”
Aisaka looked up. Ryuuji looked down. Neither of them had the luxury of ignoring each other anymore. Their gazes crossed, and they remained silent. They stayed like that for several seconds.
“A-are you okay?”
At long last, Ryuuji finally managed to choke out some words. Then, he extended a tentative hand out towards Aisaka, while she slowly got up. In response, she gave him a nearly inaudible reply.
“No thanks,” she said, or “I don’t know”—or something along those lines. From between the strands of her disheveled hair, Aisaka’s steely eyes effortlessly cleaved straight through Ryuuji.
Instinctively, he took a large step back. Noticing the opening, Aisaka shakily came to a standing position. Head still hidden, she dusted off her skirt and took long strides to distance herself from Ryuuji. She put her back to the window and narrowed her eyes, but didn’t make any moves to leave the classroom. Isn’t she embarrassed? A normal person would have been, but it seemed those kinds of thoughts weren’t of any concern to the Palmtop Tiger.
If Aisaka was going to stay, then naturally, Ryuuji would have to leave first.
“M-my bag,” he muttered purposefully, before darting towards it.
Aisaka Taiga still stood by the window, watching him wordlessly. He didn’t know what sort of expression was on her face, because he couldn’t even bear to look at her. He just tried his best to dampen the sound of his footsteps and make himself invisible as he crossed the classroom. He could feel goosebumps prickling across his cheek, where he sensed her glare, but he couldn’t show her a reaction. He couldn’t provoke her. If he could get through this without anything happening…
The bag wasn’t at his desk—instead, it was where he’d left it on top of Kitamura’s, where they had been talking earlier. If he could just get that bag, he could withdraw from the classroom. Controlling his impatience, he stretched out his arm. Just twenty centimeters away, ten centimeters away…
“Ah!” she said, jumping up.
He must have done something wrong. He must have done something wrong, to make Aisaka Taiga yell out at him. Ryuuji looked over his shoulder in dread and stared at the small doll standing by the window. “Wh-what…?”
“J-just what…d-do you think you’re doing?” she asked.
Spontaneously, an eye-catching scene began to unfold right there on the spot. The Palmtop Tiger was reeling.
“I just came to get my bag,” he said. “But…A-Aisaka? What’s wrong? You’re acting pretty weird.”
Her puckered mouth opened and closed, and she shuffled her feet, as though performing some odd dance. As she brought a wavering finger up to her cheek, she started to jitter and shake. “Uhhhh, you mean, that’s your bag? But that’s not your chair. Wh-wh-wh-why, h-h-h-h-how?” she stammered, as she admonished Ryuuji.
“…I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said. “A teacher just called me while I was talking to Kitamura…and I just left it here… Argh!”
Aisaka, standing totally flummoxed several meters away from him, closed the gap in moments. Where does she hide all that athleticism in such a tiny body?
“Urk…! Urgh…ugh!” She pulled at the bag Ryuuji clutched to his chest, trying to rip it away. She wrenched at it with incredible strength.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa?! A-Aisaka?!”
“G-give! It! Back! Hand it over!”
From up close, he could see her cheeks turn a red that rivaled the sunset. Her cute face distorted into a bloodcurdling, demonic mask.
“Give it back, give it, I’m telling you!”
“Uggh!” He wouldn’t let go. Out of pure, stubborn machismo, Ryuuji planted his feet solidly on the ground. Besides, if he were to release his grip now, Aisaka’s tiny body would go flying.
To think he put all that effort into reading the situation for nothing.
“Hnnnngh!” She twisted her hips, dug her nails into the bag, and squeezed her eyes shut as her face went red, until a blood vessel popped out on her temple. She was determined to win their contest of strength.
Little by little, Ryuuji’s fingers were slipping. Even his braced legs were slowly edging forward. Simply put, he’d probably lose. He couldn’t bear it any longer.
“W-watch o…! Caref—stooop…!” he said.
“Hnnnnnnnnnnnngh! Ah? Aaah!”
I can’t do it anymore! he thought, but in that moment, Aisaka suddenly threw her head back. He saw a distant look in her eyes as her little hands flung wide open, and she let go… SHE LET GO?!
“ARGH!”
“ACHOO!”
CRASH!
The scream was Ryuuji. The sneeze, Aisaka. The crash was also Ryuuji. Scream, sneeze, the back of his head.
When Aisaka’s sneeze loosened her grip, Ryuuji had naturally flown backwards. He stumbled, bag still grasped in both hands, and slammed his head into the teacher’s desk.
“Ow, oww… Th-that hurt! Wh-why…y-you…that really freakin’ hurt! Were you trying to kill me or something?!” He was half crying as he protested.
“Ugh.” Even after sending Ryuuji flying with her peculiar sneeze, Aisaka seemed oblivious of her surroundings. She sniffled, wobbled over to a desk, and hunched down.
“A-Aisaka? Hey, what’s wrong?”
She curled up into a ball, her long hair draping all the way to the floor. She made a low moan but didn’t answer. Was she feeling sick? He rubbed the back of his head and rushed over. He peeked at her face, which had just been bright red, but was now rapidly losing color. Her quivering lips were white as paper. Her forehead had strangely broken out into a sweat.
“Whoa… You’re white as a sheet. Are you anemic? Here, grab my hand.”
She had the same symptoms as Yasuko when she had collapsed, once. This time, he didn’t hesitate to offer his hand.
“Tsk!” Aisaka vigorously brushed his hand away with her ice-cold fingers. She was still wobbling heavily, but—steadying herself with a nearby desk—she stood up.
“A-Aisaka! Are you okay?” he said.
Of course, she didn’t answer. She started walking, knocking into desks along the way, as her velvety hair fluttered. He watched her diminutive back as she ran off. Because she had been sitting, the seat of her pleated skirt was folded up, and though it revealed a risqué amount of her delicate legs, she made her escape too fast for him to tell her.
“Wait up! Shouldn’t you at least go to the nurse’s office to rest?”
Even though he might have been meddling, Ryuuji couldn’t just leave her, so he started to follow.
“Get away from me, you moron!” She shrieked, her desperate voice hitting him like a physical blow. He put on the brakes. If she could yell like that, she was probably fine…
“M-man, what a mess…”
The sound of Aisaka’s running feet faded down the hallway until he stood alone in the classroom, still reeling in the aftermath of being called a moron.
Abandoned, Ryuuji just stood there, muttering weakly to himself.
The back of his head was still pounding, and Aisaka’s nails had left ten lacerations in the side of the bag—the one they had failed to reach any sort of civil compromise on. The once neat rows of desks were unbearably jostled.
It was a mess.
The desks and Aisaka were both messed up. What a troublesome girl.
As he fussed with the desks until they were back in order, Ryuuji desperately tried to make sense of what had just happened. The after-school classroom that should have been deserted, Aisaka Taiga somersaulting out, the bag that had nearly been stolen from him, the sneeze, the bump to the back of his head, the anemic girl… It was impossible, there was no understanding it. He didn’t have a clue what to make of it.
“I’m no good with messed-up situations like these,” Ryuuji solemnly mumbled to himself and sighed.
Little did he know, but the meaning of the incident was to become all too clear three hours later.