“I’m a freshman too.”
“Oh! Thank goodness! I was kind of freaking out there! Thought I might’ve ruined my university reputation right from the get-go.”
She put a hand to her chest, breathing a huge, exaggerated sigh of relief. Didn’t you ruin your reputation already with that act you put on in class? I thought.
“Anyway, sorry to impose on you out of the blue like this. I still don’t know anyone else here, but just when I was starting to get antsy, I saw you! We were sitting next to each other in class, so I just thought I’d talk to you. Sorry, was that rude of me?”
It was.
“Nah, it’s fine.”
“Oh, sweet! Um, I’m Akiyoshi Hisano.” How truly bold of her to presume I cared. “I’m majoring in political science. You?”
“Business, actually.”
“I see. Could I ask your name?”
The way she asked that really left no room for refusal.
“Sure. Tabata.”
“Well, I know we’ve just met, but pleased to meetcha, Tabata-kun.”
Akiyoshi bowed her head. Her bluntly cut shoulder-length hair swayed. I politely bowed my head in return. In most cases, when an unplanned event occurred, it was typically most advantageous just to play along.
“So, Tabata-kun, could I ask your first name?”
“…Uh.”
I faltered. It was an incredibly ordinary question, one which she was at no fault for asking. Though it was more or less a personal problem, the fact was that I hated my name. If I were some kind of supermodel, maybe I would have been proud of how flowery my name was. Or, on the other hand, if I were super burly and the direct opposite of the impression my name gave, that contradiction might have been a source of comedy. However, it was the fact that I was wholly nondescript and neither of those things that made me hesitate to share it.
But then again, I was not the sort of person who was brave enough to ignore someone’s question.
“…Kaede…”
Of course, one’s own complexes meant nothing to others.
“Tabata Kaede-kun…” she sounded out. “Ta as in tanbo and hata as in hatake?” she asked, trying to pin down the kanji for my name.
“Oh, no, hata like in hashikko.”
Akiyoshi pulled her cell phone out of her bag, tapped at it in a practiced fashion, and then tucked it back away. The strap of the bag dug into her shoulder.
“Note taken!”
Grinning, with eyes narrowed and teeth bared, she lifted her spoon and took a bite of her katsu curry as though it were some long-awaited treat. Realizing I had, for some reason, watched this entire sequence of actions, I averted my eyes and once more took a bite of the fried fish atop my own plate.
“Gosh, I was hungry. My stomach was growling all the way through class! You hear it?”
“No, I didn’t.” I was not paying attention to such things whatsoever.
“Well, that’s good. I’ve always got a pretty healthy appetite. Don’t judge me if I end up eating more than you, ’kay?”
“Good metabolism, huh?”
“Old habit from when I played soccer for a bit in high school. I probably need to start eating less, though.”
A bit, I noted, which led me to the independent conclusion that she probably had not attended some kind of powerhouse school that was all about winning. The fact that she needed to cut back also meant that she probably had no intention to continue playing through college.
“You play any sports, Tabata-kun? Er, sorry… I’m asking a lot of questions.”
Apparently, she did have some tentative measure of consideration. I had assumed from her display in class that she was the sort of person who would step all over others’ personal boundaries. At least she apparently had the courtesy to take off her shoes before doing so.
“It’s fine. I didn’t really do any physical activities in high school.”
“Oh, more of the artsy type?”
“I was part of the go-home club.”
“No plans to do anything in college, either?”
“Not really, currently. Oh, what about you, Akiyoshi-san?”
“I was thinking I’d join something, but when I looked into all the groups on campus, including the unofficial ones, there were just way too many options. Sort of interested in the Model UN or something, though.”
“Mottle Yuen?” I parroted.
“Yeah, it sounds really cool!” she said, taking the opportunity to immediately launch into an explanation of the group. To simplify Akiyoshi’s exposition, this club was apparently one where students interested in international affairs took on the roles of different nations and carried on mock sessions of the United Nations. Of course. I was starting to form a more solid internal picture of her.
“How’s something like that sound to you, Tabata-kun?”
“Sounds like an overly complicated TTRPG game.”
I had no reason to either criticize or laud the model UN concept, so I simply voiced one of my opinions on the matter that did not lean either way. This time, Akiyoshi was the one to parrot, “Tee tea are peegee?” Given the way that the conversation was going, it would be odd of me not to take my turn at explaining. I gave her a brief, simple, and objective as possible explanation of what a TTRPG, or tabletop roleplaying game, was.
“So, yeah, it’s also the kind of game where you play different roles, I think.”
“Whoa! That’s so cool! I would definitely want to play some type of hero!”
She held her still curry-covered spoon out in front of her face, perhaps attempting to mime the wielding of a sword. Seeing this joyful reaction got a surprising stir out of me.
“I guess the model UN really is kind of the same. Wanna go check it out with me? If you’re up to it.”
“Oh, ah…no, I can’t.”
Whenever I had to refuse an invitation that came my way, I hated having any looks of disappointment cast on me, or having to do the same, or even someone being disappointed about it at all. Thus, though refusing this casual invitation of Akiyoshi’s conflicted slightly with my own philosophies, Akiyoshi, who had no idea that I was this way and smiled, clasping her hands in front of her chest with a, “No, it’s cool! Sorry for imposing on you so suddenly.” The fact that she seemed to realize that there were some drawbacks to her own personality gave me a slightly more favorable impression of her.
Just slightly.
“Oh, no, it’s okay, I really don’t mind it,” I said.
“Really? I’m glad. I know that I can be a bit much sometimes.”
So I had gathered. I had assumed from her bubbly nature that she was not capable of such self-awareness, so I was surprised at this newfound calm of hers. It made me wonder if she was the sort of person who really only thrived within a small, close-knit group.
I have no idea whether telling her that I didn’t mind had merely encouraged her, but her barrage of questions continued. I answered them as well as I could and learned more about her in return. She was born in Ibaraki, currently enrolled in school, lived alone, and had applied for a part-time job at a cram school. She liked shonen manga and was a fan of Asian Kung-Fu Generation. Based solely on this information, she should have seemed like a perfectly normal person, but unfortunately, I was hearing all of this through the lens of my first impressions of her in class and through the filter of my view of her as an irritating person. I saw no reason to amend my perception now. There was no need to do so.
“Catch you later then!” she said, standing from her seat. The building that her next class was in apparently rather far away.
I waved a hand at her, replying, “Sure, later then,” but, in fact, I did not assume that there would be a “later.” This was not me being coldhearted, though. People like Akiyoshi, who could have conversations with anyone, soon found better people to talk to, forgetting the acquaintances they had made along the way. I had been the subject of this many times before and understood by now that such things were inevitable.
So, just as I did not think there would be any “laters” to come, I did not feel that there was any reason why I should need to fully comprehend Akiyoshi.
However.
I did not even have to wait until the following Monday. That Friday during fourth period, when Akiyoshi, who was sitting boldly in the front of our fifty-person classroom, saw me enter through the front door, she waved at me. When I took my seat in the farthest row to the back, by the window, she picked up her things and moved to sit next to me.
“Morning! Been a while, eh, Tabata-kun?”
“Oh, y-yeah. You in this class too?”
“Yeah! Didn’t realize you were too.” I had taken a seat farther away from her, assuming she had come with friends, but I suppose it was a good thing that she relocated. There had been no point in such serious, careful consideration on my part.
Just as she was cheerfully telling me about how she had gotten the cram school job, the bell rang. It did not seem that there was anyone else around that she was acquainted with.