“Sure,” said Towada.
“No, I’m fine, I don’t need to—”
Before I could finish protesting, Towada had already grabbed me by the arm. Wait, the watering can! My eyes darted back to see the other boy, possibly the club president, picking it up. His name, what was it? Honomi had mentioned him during PE. Sasaki? No… Sakai! That’s it! I could see why she didn’t classify him as meh: he was loud and confident and radiated sheer charisma and leadership—the exact type of person I shied away from. Just how conspicuous was a transfer student anyway? We’d never talked and yet he knew my name.
We arrived at the nurse’s office shortly, and she exclaimed, “Is she hurt? Let me have a look,” before examining my cheek and promptly starting treatment. She handed me a mirror and I saw the flushed skin where the object—a tennis ball—had whizzed by. Since it had merely grazed me, icing the area was the first step. After handing me a towel-wrapped ice pack, she left for the staff room, marooning me with Towada.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “I feel like this keeps happening.”
“Not really,” he replied, staring absentmindedly out the window.
Though to be precise, I didn’t “feel” like it kept happening, it did keep happening. The occasion was the second in recent memory that I’d inadvertently troubled him so—and found myself alone with him! I sensed my blood pressure spiking.
I assured him that I was fine and that he could return to his club, but he insisted on staying until its advisor and president showed up.
“But you’re missing out on practice?” I prodded.
“It’s fine. More importantly, shouldn’t you be applying that ice?”
“R-Right.”
He really just says nice things in the bluntest way possible. Firmly rebuffed, I had no intention of pushing further. As I pressed the ice pack to my cheek, a deafening silence ensued. Hurry up, nurse, please!
“Hey,” he abruptly said.
“Y-Yeah?”
Strangely, he didn’t respond right away. A hint of unease played on his face as he slowly asked, “I know I wasn’t there last time, but after you came to my house, have you noticed anything unusual at your place?”
“Anything unusual?” I echoed. Towada wasn’t the sort to joke around or poke fun, so I seriously considered his question. Our visit had been ten days before. The sole odd occurrence that sprang to mind was the vanishing brownie at Towada’s, but that incident was probably due to a simple lapse of memory, and besides, he was inquiring about my house, not his.
Catching my puzzled expression, he elaborated, “Like food—snacks or milk—disappearing, or finding items not where you left them.”
Hm? Food? So maybe the brownie is worth mentioning? No, no, I shook the thought from my head. “Food disappears all the time, but that’s usually thanks to my brother.” Actually, the previous day, my snacks had mysteriously vanished from their shelf, and the trash can had also been moved to a weird place. But such occurrences weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. Again, they were often the result of my brother using things without cleaning up after himself. “I don’t think there’s been anything unusual…” I answered. “Why?”
“Nothing. If there’s nothing, then that’s…good.”
I nodded. He seemed to be struggling to articulate his thoughts. I empathized all too well. No worries, Towada, you can take all the time you need with me!
Still, his faltering surprised me. I’d thought him immune to such awkwardness, but maybe that was just my presumption. His gaze meandered for a moment before settling on me once more. He opened his mouth. “Ma—”
“Sorry, I’m here! How’s your cheek?”
“Mind the door, Sakai.”
Ma? Before Towada could utter a word, the door slid open with a loud clatter, and in walked the tennis club president and the school nurse. After assessing my freshly iced cheek, the nurse applied a gauze pad. There were no signs of swelling, and the redness was starting to subside. It seemed I would be able to go home without much of a problem.
“Kitazawa,” the nurse began, “we phoned your parents, but no one picked up, so we left a message just in case.”
“Oh, my mom’s probably on the train right now. This is when she usually gets back from work.” Answering one’s phone on public transit was frowned upon, after all.
“In that case, make sure to tell her that we’ll reach out to her later to explain what happened.”
“Sure.”
Soon thereafter, the tennis club’s advisor appeared with the first year responsible for the errant ball. After a flurry of awkward apologies that left me more uncomfortable than the actual incident had, that was ostensibly the end of it. The first year did look relieved to see that I was fine, though.
“I really oughta see to it that you get home safe myself, but I can’t exactly leave school at the moment,” the advisor said.
“That’s okay, I can make it home on my own just fine,” I asserted.
“I know what we can do,” he said, seemingly ignoring me. “Sakai, Towada—you two walk her home.”
My mouth fell slightly agape. When I pointed out that my face, not my legs, was what was injured, I succeeded in having my escort downgraded to just Towada. Why Towada? Apparently because he knew me.
Hold on, how is this a downgrade?! Now I have to be alone with him! Also, why was everyone acting in such a manner? First Ayako, then the teacher. They were all being rather overprotective. Was it because I was short that people treated me like a child? Or wait. Was it like when Mao petted me on the head, saying, “You’re like a little mouse, and it makes me want to baby you”? Was that it? Was that what was happening?
Before I could fully marshal my thoughts, Towada and I were once again en route. He offered to carry my school bag, and I fought tooth and nail to keep it. Again, my cheek was hurt, not my hand!
As I insisted that I was fine, he countered, “Aren’t face and head injuries pretty serious?”
“You think?” I could not be persuaded. “I used to be a bit of a klutz, so I’ve had my fair share.”