{T minus 06:45 to the truck accident}
The morning air seemed gritty with the previous night’s deadly battle. Clouds lay heavy over the sun’s eyes like the lingering scent of darkness. For me, the chill was pleasant. I gradually resumed the demeanor appropriate for my day profession of high-schooler—though the inside of my mouth still tasted faintly of blood.
Blood has a coppery flavor.
Or was it iron? I haven’t eaten either of them, so how should I know? Why is it metallic, anyway? Sounds bogus. The taste of blood in my mouth is also a lie. I wasn’t hurt. All I had done the night before was watch anime and listen to radio shows. I’m tired.
Drinking a cheap cola I bought at the bulk-discount grocery store in my neighborhood, I got on the bus. At the same time, I scanned all the seats. It was only kids in the same school uniform as me and old people. No one sketchy-looking.
If there had been a guy who seemed like a bus-jacker sitting in the front, I would identify the innocent-looking salaryman type in the back as his partner. But there wasn’t anyone like that. Of course there wasn’t. The bus pulled away from the curb.
The thing was crammed full of high-school students, which meant tons of pointless noise. Chief among the sounds I didn’t want to hear were the conversations of couples. I canceled them out internally—’cause I was jealous.
I also really hate conversations between junior and senior club members. I’m a way badder dude sipping my 1.5 liter bottle of off-brand cola than you guys slurping your weird astronaut drinks, anyhow.
I stuck the bottle under my arm, leaned against a pole near the front of the bus, and opened my book. I think book covers are weak and rude to the heroine, so I don’t use them. Do you want to cover the face of the girl you like while you talk to her? Do you want to hug her through a book cover? Not me. And I do want to hug her, so I hope they make a body pillow soon.
Usually I would read while listening to songs sung by the voice actress who played her in the anime, but while I was listening to the radio last night, I got pissed because they ignored my message, and when I threw my headphones, they broke.
The world’s not fair. I wish I could hurry up and go to a different one where I could hear her voice in real life.
“Oh, I might know the guy you’re talking about. It’s the South High soccer team, right? We’re friends, I’m pretty sure.”
While I was absorbed in my paperback world, we’d reached the next bus stop and some girls got on. I quickly hid my face behind the cover of my book. There was no real reason except that meeting girls from school outside the classroom is stressful, so I decided to go stealth.
As a result, they didn’t see me, but when they went by, there was this—how to describe it—stupidly good smell.
What the hell. Is she some kinda freak? What do you have to put on your body for it to smell so much like candy?
Haru Koyama.
“See, we’re friends on LINE. That’s him, right?”
“Yeah, that guy! Haru, how do you know him? That’s creepy.”
“Just through my boyfriend. He’s on the soccer team, so, you know.”
Even if she didn’t brag about her boyfriend at the top of her lungs, I knew she had one. I’m known at school as a being of lofty ideals, and I don’t take much interest in reality’s life forms, so I don’t talk to them. But Haru Koyama and her friends are so loud that I know her basic profile. Like, I know that this is her second boyfriend in high school. And I know that she commutes from so far away that she takes two different busses.
My class is almost entirely ugly chicks, but Haru Koyama has a pretty normal face, and she’s got a lot of friends, so she sticks out so damned much that I just happen to have some info about her in the back of my head is all. It’s not like I’m interested in her.
Good grief-ing in my head at how noisy the bus was, I returned to my other world. The illustration of the heroine had her dressed like a princess knight and flashing her panties, arms locked with the protagonist.
There aren’t many girls who could pull off this look in the real world. Maybe one, if any, in my class.
{T minus 06:32 to the truck accident}
I entered the classroom of pigs. No terrorists. It was another peaceful day. How many more times are you gonna make me say a boring line like that? They call you a place of learning, but you’re a friggin’ zoo.
“Whoa, don’t freak me out like that!”
A white object flew through my line of sight and bounced off the wall. It was a ball. Most likely what they call a baseball.
“Oh, Chiba. Sorry, didn’t mean to throw it by you.” The mob boy held his hands up. With no other choice, I picked up the ball to toss it back to him. What the hell, this is heavier than I thought. I’m gonna hurt my shoulder.
“Thanks a bunch.” He went straight back to talking to the other mobs.
Now then, I thought. Did he even apologize? Oh, he did say “sorry.” Did he thank me for picking it up? He did, yeah.
So then...no reason to go berserk on his ass. You escaped this time, guy. There’s no telling what I’ll do when I get pissed. But, hmm. I felt sort of dissatisfied. Like I was being underestimated.
Wait, though, could you really call that an apology, what he just said? Can’t you sound a tad bit more remorseful? You really freaked me out, and I picked your ball up off the floor!
“Uh, did you want something?”
When I stared at him, he turned around. Wow. Apparently I’m capable of making people sense my thoughts. I said, “Nothing,” with a nihilistic smile and made a point of leaving without another word. I had no intention of taking his life, so I would stop at a mental warning.
Mental powers are handy. You can avoid pointless battles. Well, but it’s because I’m so unique that I get treated like I’m aloof.
“Oh, you’re here.” A guy set his bag down before taking the next seat over and shamelessly grinning at me. His name’s Sekiguchi, and he’s one of the few guys in class I can talk to on an equal footing. In other words, of all the insufferable bastards at our school, he’s one of the worst.
“Did you see it?” Sekiguchi asked.
“Yeah,” was all I replied.
“Heh-heh-heh...”
We smiled the smile of comrades who had shared the same sublime experience. The previous night’s SoraDan (the late-night anime Sky-Blue Dungeon: Second Tour) was godly. That one scene will be talked about in the history of Japanese media for decades to come. More like forever. I mean, because it was the greatest. You can’t not talk about it.
“When Yufumin was like, ‘Wanna touch?’ and stuck her chest out—”
“That scene where the Dragon Air Brigade charged at the cloud golem—”
Our opinions clashed. Runaway value collision. Sekiguchi got red in the face and pushed his glasses up his nose so many times it looked like he was dribbling them. “You’re a pervert!”
“Nah, nah. Plus I was kidding. I agree with you—about the part with the Dragon Air Brigade.”
Was it really that good? ’Cause I’m pretty sure the softness of Yufumin’s little boobs as they swayed was some god-level animation. But getting called a pervert by Sekiguchi made me mad, so I just agreed with him.
“Yeah, the captain’s lines during that part were so full of passion! And the vice-captain all like, ‘I knew’!” He got pretty passionate himself. I just let him ramble on, nodding occasionally and thinking about Yufumin.
If you clash even once, it’s hard to geek out together even about anime you like. I don’t hate Sekiguchi or anything, but he’s got that thing where he can’t really read the atmosphere. Geez.
In the center of the classroom, Haru Koyama and her friends were cracking up and making a racket. The baseball mob from earlier kept putting the ball down the back of her shirt and getting smacked.
I got serious about my conversation with Sekiguchi and tried to talk as loudly as possible.
{T minus 04:07 to the truck accident}
Yawwwwwn.
I leaned against the back of my chair and stretched. God, this class is so boring. How does social studies help you when you actually go out into society? No, I’m sure it’s good for something, it’s just so tedious. Politics and shit.
I figured, Well, why not look at Haru Koyama?
She had her head propped up on her elbow and was writing something in her notebook. It’s just my guess, but I bet it had nothing to do with the class. Maybe a portrait of the teacher or something. I heard she’s good at dumb doodles like that. Not that I’ve seen them. But that’s how these people are, they get all giddy over something stupid like that.
The classroom is a small world. But how many of these kids realize that? There are so many who mistake this place for the whole thing and act like they’re one of the ruling class or something. They have no idea how unimportant they are.
Haru Koyama is one of those people.
Or at least, that’s what everyone else must have thought. But I felt like there was a possibility she wasn’t.
Why? Because I know that sometimes she gets this bored look on her face.
I saw someone who had breathed the air of a different world, who had put both her life and sanity on the line.