Ever since she was small, Mio had been good at looking out for others. She had a younger brother, which probably had something to do with it. By her early years in elementary school, the teachers and adults regularly praised her for being responsible. When kids were left out of the group in class, on group projects, or during practice, she spoke up about it. When someone who’d been sick for several days returned to school and felt excluded, she approached them and offered to play with them, even if the two weren’t particularly good friends.
Before long, teachers and other adults latched on to a common phrase: “That’s Mio for you.”
She liked receiving such compliments but didn’t try to get them.
Mio didn’t help for the sake of looking good. She just thought it was what you were supposed to do. As a matter of fact, she’d heard the complaint that she was a Goody Two-shoes her entire life—even from friends. When Hanaka called her a “model student,” it wasn’t out of admiration. Mio could hear the unspoken second part of such comments: “I can’t believe you do this stuff.”
Unfortunately, once an idea wormed its way into her head, she couldn’t let it be. She had to do it. When someone was alone, she figured they felt isolated. Even if they didn’t, the impression of being friendless would hurt them socially.
School was a mysterious place. Elementary, middle, and high school—hierarchical layers existed at every level, in every class. Mio immediately understood when she learned about the concept of school castes.
Each class had an upper group and a lower one. Mio didn’t enjoy the connotation of the words upper and lower. A mere difference in interests shouldn’t dictate one side’s superiority or inferiority. There was a difference between the sects, though. The assertive types, the submissive types. The flashy types, the plain types. The loud types, the quiet types.
The upper group in each class tended to be assertive, flashy, and loud, and they wielded influence. However, Mio thought that was owing to the group’s insensitivity. Callous students claiming they belonged above the less confident ones didn’t sit right with her.
In middle school, a quiet girl Mio spoke with told her, “You know, Mio, you’re pretty nice for someone from the other side.”
Mio didn’t know what to make of that statement, and the girl continued, “I guess you’re one of those rare ones. The kind who can have a conversation with anyone, regardless of their clique, upper or lower. A person in the middle.”
It brought a pang to Mio’s chest to hear that girl willingly call herself “lower.” But at the same time, she understood. The upper kids spoke harshly to the lower kids, and the lower kids hardly ever spoke to the upper kids. They kept their distance.
Thus, Mio thought the idea of her being “in the middle” made a kind of sense. Maybe lots of people who made friends easily were in the middle. Mio’s current friends Hanaka and Saho belonged there.
Even in a strict, prestigious feeder school, there were girls passionate about cosmetics and clothes and guys who liked wilder activities. The “upper” students arranged singles hangouts to meet and hook up with kids from other schools.
Hanaka and Saho were in athletic groups, and Saho had a boyfriend. From the perspective of plainer classmates, they probably appeared glamorous and popular. Yet both of them were kind, and while they liked to tease, they weren’t insensitive.
They could be considerate.
Mio had to admit that, compared to her classmates, she was definitely on the empathetic side, too. She was always amiable to others, just as she was with Shiraishi.
People called her an honor student, but Mio knew the truth.
I’m just weak-willed.
Class rep and class chair. Mio often took on important roles at school, but not because she desired to be in control. She didn’t think she wanted power or attention. Rather, Mio felt like it would be better if she took on those responsibilities. That was what caused her to keep volunteering.
It was no different this year, in Class 2-3. She hadn’t volunteered, but she’d accepted the role of class representative when nominated. Everyone thought she was the best choice because she’d already done it as a first-year.
It was perfectly natural for the class representative to guide a new student around.
Being considerate of other people wasn’t always worth the trouble, though. In fact, the other person typically never noticed and didn’t repay the favor.
Mio walked down the long third-floor hallway with Shiraishi, silently lamenting. What would people think? Mio decided that if an acquaintance spotted her, she’d tell them she was only giving a transfer student a tour.
“The brass band is usually in the music room after school. Were you in an extracurricular club at your old school?” she asked, figuring that Shiraishi probably wouldn’t respond. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t. Going for broke, Mio said, “You’re pretty tall. Did you play any sports? I bet you have good reflexes.”
She didn’t actually believe a word of this, but it was a habit of hers to lift up the people she talked to. She assumed he wouldn’t give her a positive answer, if any. But to her surprise, there was a response.
“Miss Harano.”
Mio was startled. It wasn’t until a few moments later that she realized the voice had come from Shiraishi beside her. It was practically the first time she’d genuinely heard his voice. She looked up and met his eyes at very close range.
She thought to ask, “What?” with a smile.
However, Shiraishi’s question caused her face to go stiff.
“Can I come to your house today?”
He was—his mouth was—grinning. The ends curled up slowly, revealing misaligned teeth, several of which were extremely sharp. It was a vicious, vicious smile.
Only after fleeing into a room did she feel ready to breathe again.
She couldn’t remember how she’d escaped him.
Mio hadn’t been able to answer. She’d screwed up her face, assuming she’d misheard Shiraishi or that it was a joke, and tried to smile amiably. However, she knew they didn’t have the sort of rapport that allowed for humor like that. Smiling wasn’t an option.
“Huh?” she’d said at last, waiting for Shiraishi to say more. She hoped her ears were playing tricks on her.