In her classy, vintage pinafore dress, she gave off an almost radiant glow compared to the other girls in class, who were all wearing their faculty-mandated sailor-style uniforms. I assumed they simply hadn’t prepared a uniform for the new girl yet, but her current outfit made her stand out so dramatically from the rest of us that it almost looked like someone had lazily snipped her out of whatever scene she originally belonged in and hastily photoshopped her into this one. Though to be sure, her pretty face didn’t hurt either. Her long, straight, jet-black hair lent her an air of staunch maturity at first glance, but her large, almond-shaped eyes did a lot to soften her overall vibe. The way she seemed totally engrossed in whatever book she was reading while still maintaining perfect upright sitting posture was pretty charming too.
By all accounts, she was easily as pretty—if not more so—than Koharu Kawasaki, who was widely regarded as the hottest girl in our class. Yet for whatever reason, she also seemed a bit too well put-together, almost to the point of feeling unapproachable. Indeed, despite her being the talk of the school, thus far, no one had proven brave enough to reach out to her. Everyone seemed pretty content to admire the new transfer student from a distance. I wasn’t about to be the first one to extend the olive branch either, so I simply trudged over to my desk on the hallway side of the classroom and took a seat.
“Kaoru! What’s up, dude?” said a chipper voice from behind me.
“Not much, man,” I replied, spinning around in my chair to face him.
It was Shohei Kaga, my best friend in the class. Given his tall stature, short spiky hair, and extremely candid way of speaking, you could have been forgiven for pegging him as your stereotypical meathead jock—but in reality, he was an indoorsy kid with some pretty highbrow hobbies. He was a member of the school’s calligraphy club, and he even liked to build model ships in bottles during his spare time.
“Heard your train ran over a deer?”
“Yeah.”
“Dang, feels like that’s been happenin’ a lot lately. I’m kinda jealous. I mean, as someone who takes his own set of wheels to school, I never get to benefit from that kind of little accident.”
“Yeah, well. Try sitting on your ass outside for half an hour in the middle of summer—or the dead of winter—and then tell me how jealous you are.”
“I mean…I’m not any more protected from the elements on my moped, y’know.”
“Fair enough,” I conceded.
Shohei shot a quick glance over at the new girl. “…Bet they never have to worry about accidents like that over in Tokyo.”
“Sure they do. All the time.”
“Aw, no way. There ain’t no deer in Tokyo.”
“Plenty of suicidal salarymen, though.”
“…Dude, you say some pretty messed up stuff sometimes.” Shohei grimaced as though he’d never been more disgusted with me in his life.
To be fair, that was probably a pretty tasteless joke on my part—though I didn’t like how he made it sound like this was a regular occurrence for me. Still, it was probably a good idea to change the subject. “Anyway, why are we comparing ourselves to Tokyo, again?”
“Oh, ’cause that’s where Ms. H said the new kid was from.”
Ah. Ms. Hamamoto was our homeroom teacher, a new instructor who’d just been hired by the school that year. Though for the record, she was not the sort of hot young female teacher that the average teenage boy might fantasize about.
“Wow. Big city girl, huh?”
“Yeah, she’s gotta be miserable here, man. Imagine moving out to the sticks after living in Tokyo all your life.”
“No kidding.” I laughed it off as I took another look at her. “You think she’s going through culture shock or what?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“I dunno, it just seems like she’s isolating herself from the rest of us. Wonder what’s going on with her.”
“Oh yeah?” Shohei perked up. “Lonely girl’s caught your eye, eh? Don’t blame you—she is pretty cute.”
“Nah, not like that. Just curious what her deal is, that’s all.”
“Well, her name’s Anzu Hanashiro, FYI. And lemme tell ya, she seems like a real character, my guy,” Shohei said, then proceeded to launch into a pretty amusing anecdote.
Apparently, Ms. H had explained to the class that this new girl—Anzu Hanashiro—had moved to Kozaki due to family matters, though it was her first time ever transferring schools. But when the teacher asked her to say a few words to introduce herself to the class, the girl shot back with, and I quote: “No, I’m good, thanks. Can I sit now?” According to Shohei, Ms. H had been so rattled by this unexpected insubordination that she couldn’t even sputter out a response.
I could believe it too. In the brief time while Shohei related this little story to me, I’d watched one of our other classmates go up to the new girl and try to talk to her, only to be shot down with “Could you not? I’m trying to read here.”
“Well… Guess I can see how she became such a loner.” I shook my head with a sigh of laughter.
“Too bad, though… She could be really cute if she were a little more friendly,” Shohei lamented. “Whatever. I just hope no one tries to mess with her.”
“Eh, I’m sure she’ll be fine. She seems way too headstrong to let anyone get under her skin,” I replied. I had more important things to focus on today than some new transfer student; there was a quiz coming up next period. I pulled out my math textbook and notes from my book bag. However, before I could even start my little last-minute cram session, the bell rang, and second period began.
Despite her not-so-minor personality quirks, the Hanashiro girl quickly proved to be surprisingly adept at just about everything she did. She answered every question the teacher threw at her in no time flat, and in gym class she outran the fastest kids on the track team. Yet when the other girls in class praised her accomplishments, she never once bragged or boasted; she simply gave them a cold, uncomprehending stare, as though she were judging them for finding something so trivial impressive. A few of my more daring classmates attempted to invite her to join their respective clubs or sports teams, but she rejected them all with the same curt disinterest.
By all accounts, Anzu Hanashiro seemed to have no intention of making friends with anyone at school, and she spent pretty much every minute of free time between classes reading her book. Normally, you’d think people would be quick to sneer and reject a standoffish nonconformist outsider like her, but it seemed the academic and athletic prowess she displayed were enough to take her from “awkward weirdo” to “misunderstood prodigy” in most of my classmates’ heads. By the time lunch rolled around, she’d settled firmly into her niche as a quintessential example of the “lone wolf” archetype, and most were content to leave her be and admire her from afar. But her newfound popularity didn’t sit well with everyone in our class.
“Hey, new kid. Be a good girl and go buy me a Cheerio Cola at the vending machine downstairs, why don’t you?” said this new challenger as she waltzed up to Anzu’s desk and slammed a hundred-yen coin on top of it.
It was Koharu Kawasaki—the aforementioned “hottest girl in class” according to popular consensus. With her bleached tawny hair in a permed, wavy, shoulder-length bob, her clearly less-than-finger-length skirt, and the backs of her indoor shoes crushed beneath her heels, she was pretty much a walking example of every possible school dress code violation. She was a very attractive girl, to be sure, but her haughty swagger and snobbish superiority complex definitely knocked her down a few rungs in my book. On top of that, thanks to all the rumors swirling around campus that she was dating one of the most notorious delinquents in the senior class, no one ever dared challenge her, which only inflated her ego all the more. With such a dangerous upperclassman at her back, it was plain to see how she’d remained the undisputed queen bee of our class for so long.
“What’s ‘Cheerio’?” Anzu inquired, eyeing the coin suspiciously.
“Wait, huh?” Koharu balked. “You’ve never heard of Cheerio before?”
“Can’t say I have.”
“Reeeally… Well, whatever. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can find it.”
“Will a hundred yen be enough?”
“’Course it will.”
“Does it at least taste good?”
“Uh, what does that have to do with anything?”
“Do they have other flavors too, or just the cola?”
“Just shut up and go already!” Koharu growled as she kicked the desk next to Anzu’s as hard as she could.
Anzu didn’t even flinch. She just stood up, expressionless, and walked out of the classroom without a word.
Koharu watched her leave, then strutted back over to her own desk, plopped her butt down, and started bragging to her posse of followers. “See? Told you she was faking it. Just gotta know how to show her who’s boss.”
Only a couple of minutes later, Anzu returned, Cheerio Cola in hand. Koharu sat with a smug grin on her face as her new servant walked over to deliver the soda she ordered. Then her jaw dropped in horror as Anzu looked her straight in the eye, cracked open the can, and proceeded to chug the whole thing right in front of her. The whole class looked on in silent awe and disbelief as the new girl held the can aloft, slowly turning it all the way upside down to suck out every last drop, before finally releasing the metallic rim from her glossy pink lips with a sigh of contentment.
“Thanks. That hit the spot.” Anzu slammed the empty soda can on Koharu’s desk before walking back to her own and reopening her book as if nothing had happened.
After a good five-second delay, Koharu finally exploded and jumped out of her seat to go give Anzu a piece of her mind. Unfortunately for Koharu (though fortunately for the rest of us), at that exact moment, the teacher came walking into class. She was forced to stomp back to her desk after no more than a click of the tongue and an icy glare. Then came the whispers from the peanut gallery.
“Holy crap. Is it just me, or is the new girl kind of a badass?”
“Man, what I wouldn’t give to put Kawasaki in her place.”
“Dude, did you see those chugging skills?! I bet that girl knows how to party.”