“You look really pale, Mio,” Saho remarked the next day, obviously concerned.
It was lunchtime. Mio had opened her boxed lunch from home but found she had no appetite and made little progress on the meal. Her friends couldn’t help but notice.
“Yeah. You seem out of it,” Hanaka agreed.
“Is it about the new kid again?”
“Um, yeah…”
Mio had barely slept the night before. But she couldn’t tell them the true reason.
After Kanbara left, Mio had checked her phone before bed and been shocked by what she saw.
He’d messaged her on LINE. Many, many times.
You heard the last thing I said today, right? Why didn’t you deny it?
Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t hollow gratitude? You basically admitted your thanks were totally empty.
That’s fine, I guess. I don’t care. It’s just, I’ve been listening and helping you with this transfer student and walked you home because I feel responsible after getting involved. Maybe that’s not what you really wanted, though.
It’s normal for a boyfriend to worry about his girlfriend, but it feels unfair when you completely take it for granted.
You say sorry for making me miss practice, but it’s just an indirect request for forgiveness. I have no choice but to tell you it’s fine. Pressuring someone with apologies, especially on purpose, isn’t kindness. It’s cunning.
You probably seem nice and attractive to that new guy. But as someone who’s known you a lot longer, I understand that your inability to reject someone isn’t genuine kindness. You need to work on that. I get that this hurts to hear, but I’m telling you because you need to know.
And crying to your friends about this is part of the problem. You get that, don’t you?
Mio didn’t know how to respond. Her hands shook when she got a new message later that evening. She nearly shrieked, thinking it was from Kanbara. However, it was from a fellow second-year on the track team, Suzuka.
Hey, Mio. Why’d you skip practice today? The teacher and the third-years were super mad. Are you really going out with Kanbara-senpai? You’ve been weird lately. You should really apologize before people get the wrong idea. Everyone’s worried.
Mio felt exhausted. The message claimed the others were worried, but Mio knew what that meant. Everyone was angry. They already hated her.
How was she supposed to attend practice? It made her dizzy.
She wasn’t sure how to reply to Kanbara, but she had to say something or he’d criticize her for making the wrong choice.
And I already know I’ve been doing that.
Mio desperately wanted to ask Hanaka and Saho for advice. Her eyes drifted down to the text Kanbara had sent that warned her against doing so.
By making a big deal about the transfer student and asking for help so often, Mio had overindulged in sympathy. Kanbara-senpai’s cold shoulder was a direct result of the bad side of her personality.
I’m sorry, Mio wrote back to Kanbara. It was the most she could do. I’m sorry. I’ll fix the bad parts.
“And…something happened with Senpai.”
Mio managed to verbalize it for Hanaka and Saho. They reacted with surprise. Realizing what she’d done, Mio shook her head.
“It’s fine. We made up right away. He warned me that I was careless for letting myself be alone.”
She didn’t tell either of them about Shiraishi’s “final warning.”
“Awww,” Saho sighed. “That’s just love talking. I’m sure he’s concerned about you.”
“Yeah…”
Among the three of them, “Senpai” meant Kanbara. When he joined the track team’s long-jump group, Mio talked about him to Hanaka and Saho nearly daily. He was so handsome, cool, nice, and so on. The days when she could gush about him so innocently seemed distant now.
“Hmmm.” Hanaka brushed at the ponytail she’d been wearing for a while now and nodded.
Saho indulged talks about Kanbara, but Mio was worried about how Hanaka would react. They’d just fought over who did and didn’t have a boyfriend, and she didn’t want to make a big deal over Kanbara in front of her.
Mio glanced toward Shiraishi’s desk. She didn’t feel the gaze anymore. He’d left the room at some point.
Despite his final warning, she hadn’t detected that heavy, oppressive gaze at all today.
“That new kid leaves every single lunch period. What does he eat? Bugs? Maybe he goes down to the quad to catch them.” Hanaka smirked.
Mio replied, “Don’t talk like that.” Shiraishi was creepy, but fabricating insults about whoever you felt like turned the classroom into an alienating place. That could give way to real bullying, and Mio hated that notion.
Hanaka laughed. “You’re too nice, Mio. He’s the one terrifying you. Where does that endless charity come from?”
It was spoken like a joke, but Mio was in no mood to laugh. The words struck her too deeply for her to disregard them.
When she went to the track club’s room after school and saw Kanbara standing against the hallway wall like the previous day, Mio held her breath unconsciously. His back came up off the wall when he noticed her.
“Let’s go,” he said. Goose bumps formed on Mio’s arms.
I’m going to be isolated.
She was going to be even more alone on the team.
“Um, Senpai…”
“What?”
“I’m going to attend practice today. I already skipped yesterday, and I don’t want to cause trouble for everyone else.”
“Huh?”
A crease formed between his eyebrows. It was quite exaggerated, as though he couldn’t believe the words he was hearing.
Mio was scared, but she did her very best to push on.
“It’s my fault. When you helped me with the transfer student, I took you for granted…but I still need to go to practice.”
“Listen.” Kanbara scratched his head with open distaste. He shook his head, as if to question why Mio didn’t understand. “That’s the worst part. Don’t you see? That whole ‘It’s my fault. I was bound to screw this up,’ where you make it seem like you’re blaming yourself. Then you raise the white flag and say, ‘Hey, I give up, don’t blame me.’ It makes you look like you’re owning up to your failure when you’re not. Figure it out already.”
“Uh…”
“Am I wrong?”
Mio couldn’t respond.
“Let’s go,” Kanbara said. Mio nodded and walked with him as though drawn by invisible strings. If Mio wasn’t allowed to think she was in the wrong, then she didn’t know whom to blame for this.
“Today,” Kanbara said, a while into the bus ride, “we’re going to your house. Okay? We need to tell your parents and brother about this new guy.”
Mio stared at him wordlessly. Her mother would definitely be home. Once his after-school activity was over, her brother would be there, too. But Mio wasn’t ready to talk yet. She couldn’t tell them a stalker was following her.
“By the time something happens, it’s already too late,” Kanbara stated. He offered no room for debate. No matter what Mio tried to say, he had her totally in check.
“Hey, Mio.”
“Yes?” she replied timidly.
“Did you burn the grove?”
“Wha…?” she gasped. The question resembled a Japanese palindromic tongue twister: ta-ke-ya-bu-ya-ke-ta. Initially, that’s what she’d thought he was referencing.
However, it wasn’t quite the same sentence, and his eyes made it clear he wasn’t joking. He was asking a serious question.
“It’s still there? I told you to burn it, didn’t I?”
“You…”
…didn’t tell me. Mio knew she hadn’t forgotten that. She would have absolutely remembered such a bizarre demand. Kanbara had only said that it felt creepy to him.
She knew that he’d never asked that of her, yet swallowed her response and offered only a “Sorry.”
“Ah, geez,” Kanbara muttered, glancing out the window. “That’s just one of those things you do, Mio. You only half listen.”
“I’m sorry,” she apologized again.
“Whatever. I don’t care,” Kanbara replied, his tone suggesting he cared a lot.
How should I tell him not to bother coming to my house? Mio wondered. Should I curl up and say I’m not feeling well? No, that’ll just give him more reason to escort me.
Mio clutched the phone in her pocket. Perhaps she could pretend to get a call and say that her mother had slipped and fallen? No, then he’d worry and insist on coming with her. It would only create more worry on her behalf.
I could get off the bus at the nearest stop.
Unfortunately, they were already at their destination.
“Let’s go, Mio,” Kanbara commanded, standing and disembarking. He’d taken her enough times that he knew the way by now.
Right when they got to Mio’s house, Kanbara abruptly said, “That transfer student.”
“Yes?”
“He should know his place. He just got here; he doesn’t know the first thing about you, Mio. It’s sickening. I’ve known you for a lot longer. He’s mistaking your type of kindness for—”
“But you were a transfer student, too, Senpai,” Mio replied, rather boldly. For some reason, she felt able to speak more freely now.
The wind blew. Kanbara faced her. The breeze rustled the bamboo behind the house from right to left.
She’d countered with a retort, the kind of thing he hated.
However, Mio couldn’t hold back now. Something had been wrong this whole time.
When he said stuff like “I’ve known you longer” and “This is the Mio I know,” she agreed here and there, blaming herself for things. Still, there was no refraining from speaking up here.
“You transferred into the school last year and only joined the track team this year. You haven’t known me for ages or anything…”
Mio summoned all her strength. Once she took the first step and started speaking, the momentum grew, and she completed her thought firmly.
Kanbara pursed his lips. He wasn’t smiling. His face was a blank mask.
Mio’s mind raced. She realized this was the first time Kanbara had actually been critical of Shiraishi. Before, he’d always blamed Mio, the victim, not the stalker. He was swift to point out what she did wrong, and his anger was reserved for her alone. Shiraishi didn’t seem to matter at all.
Kanbara acted as though it were all Mio’s fault.
“What the hell?” He scratched his head with irritation.
Mio stared at him.
Was Kanbara-senpai always so insensitive? Was he always the type of guy who ditched practice without telling anyone?
The more she thought about it, the more Mio realized that she didn’t actually know the answers.
The day Shiraishi transferred in, the girls had talked about Senpai. They’d discussed how hard the Mitsumine Academy transfer test was supposed to be.
“Anyway, I’m sure Shiraishi’s really smart. I heard the standards to transfer to our school are really high. Remember last year, when someone transferred into the grade above ours, and they immediately became the top student in the class?”
Kanbara-senpai was very smart. Mio admired him so much that any mention of a senpai between her and her friends referred exclusively to him.