Mio dreaded school the next day.
The thought of returning to the same room as the new student was exhausting.
When her morning track practice was finished, she went to class. Kaname Shiraishi wasn’t there yet.
“Morning.”
Hanaka showed up a minute later, having completed her volleyball club drills. It was too bad that Saho wasn’t there yet; Mio wanted to talk about what happened the day before. Both with the strange transfer student and between her and Kanbara.
Since meeting Kanbara last year, Mio had discussed him with her friends quite a lot. You could say she held a lasting interest in him.
Saho always showed up just in the nick of time, and today was no different. She entered class right at the bell, eyelids heavy from drowsiness. Mio didn’t have a chance to chat with her friends during morning lessons.
Kaname Shiraishi’s seat was empty.
For an instant, Mio hoped he’d be absent that day, but he entered right after the bell finished ringing.
He still didn’t have a new uniform: He was wearing a navy-blue collared shirt again. He didn’t seem in any hurry to avoid being late, sauntering slowly and unsteadily. He took his seat in silence. Some of the others near him offered, “Good morning, Shiraishi,” but Mio didn’t hear any reply. He might have nodded in response.
When he moved slowly, he shuffled like a zombie, perhaps because he was so tall. Mio recalled how he hadn’t eaten lunch the previous day, and it struck her as more creepy than before.
This isn’t good.
After what happened, minor things about Shiraishi that Mio hadn’t thought much about previously now worried her, like his figure and gait. Mio fought the urge to turn and look at his seat. She sensed Shiraishi’s eyes on her but ignored the feeling, chalking it up to imagination.
Until she had the chance to talk to Hanaka and Saho at lunch, Mio constantly felt like she was being watched.
Could stares apply physical pressure? The right side of her neck felt painful and cramped. Her body was tense.
Kaname Shiraishi disappeared during the lunch break. Did he not intend to eat today, either?
Well, he was gone now. Definitely gone.
After checking several times to be sure, Mio finally told her friends.
“So, listen to this…”
When she got to the part about him asking to come to her house, Hanaka and Saho were silent. Before that point, they’d smiled and teased her. “Aww, he fell in love with you? We warned you!” The amusement was gone now.
Hanaka stole a glance at Shiraishi’s seat, still empty, then turned back to Mio.
“That’s crazy.”
Everyone kept using that word, and Mio agreed. It was the only descriptor that fit.
Hanaka and Saho lowered their voices. They’d been keeping the conversation quiet already, but now it felt more like people pressing their foreheads together to have a proper secret discussion.
“I don’t know, it kind of sounds like Shiraishi’s more than just a gloomy loner, right? Something’s wrong with him. He’s nuts.”
“Yeah…”
Mio felt lost. Her friends scowled when she told them about feeling his stare this morning.
“But you were okay yesterday, right? He didn’t follow you home?”
“I don’t think so… When I told an upperclassman on the track team, he walked me home.”
Recently it had become obvious that when Mio mentioned an upperclassman from the track team, she was usually talking about Kanbara, even if she didn’t mention his name.
This newest wrinkle in the story caused Hanaka’s and Saho’s expressions to go slack. “Whaaat?!” they exclaimed.
“To your house? Holy shit! When did you get so bold?”
“It was a coincidence. I went to the clubroom, and there was an older student there. I told him about it because I was scared, and he was really worried for me.”
Mio hadn’t believed Shiraishi would follow her home, yet she’d felt emotional upon seeing Kanbara waiting for her at the school gate when practice ended.
“What? I’m fine! Is this necessary?” she’d questioned, despite the thrill running through her.
Kanbara had frowned and replied, “After what you told me, I can’t let you walk back alone.” Then he had taken her school bag right out of her hands.
Mio’s heart had threatened to stop then and there from sheer nervousness and delight.
I wish I had a boyfriend like him, she’d thought.
“Whaaaaat?!” her friends squealed, all but shrieking.
Saho leaned forward in excitement and rubbed Mio’s shoulder. “I’m so happy for you!”
“He wouldn’t do that for an underclassman on the track team unless he cared about her. I know the thing with the transfer student sucks, but it’s like…every cloud has a silver lining? Or the glass is half-full, or something? Maybe that upperclassman’s feeling the pressure now that he has a rival? He was into you all along!”
“No, Senpai was just worried…”
Kanbara was nice to everyone on the team. He probably would’ve done the same for anyone else. That was part of why Mio was so drawn to him.
“Still, Shiraishi’s concerning, for sure… Do you think he legitimately fell in love with you at first sight, even though you’ve barely said a word to each other?”
“It’s probably because he’s never said anything to a girl, ever. When someone shows him the tiniest bit of kindness, he gets the wrong idea.”
Hanaka and Saho continued to chat for a bit.
“But you know,” Saho said, “I can’t say I don’t understand the feeling.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“I mean, love makes you feel like you’re out of control.” That came as a surprise. Saho normally hated guys like Shiraishi and spared no chance to make that clear. When Mio didn’t say anything, Saho hastily added, “Of course, I feel bad for you! I’m just saying. When I fall in love, I can’t trust myself. When I know I shouldn’t text him, I get nervous and end up sending a ton of messages. And I keep telling people about my romantic problems, even when they don’t want to hear them. I know I was unbearable with my old boyfriend last year.”
Mio and Hanaka exchanged a surprised look. Saho was ordinarily extremely romantic, to the point that they hadn’t realized she was this aware of her tendencies.
“You’re not like Shiraishi,” Mio insisted.
Saho grinned in her usual way. “Well, yeah, of course not. I’m only pointing out that I might look calm now, but I’m different when I’m in love.”
“I don’t know, your current boyfriend seems really nice,” Hanaka remarked.
“Yes. Because we’re so into each other!” Saho exclaimed, her response punctuated by a sappy smile.
“Mio,” someone called, a classmate named Yanai. She was a plain and dedicated student in the literature club who wore braids and glasses. Her seat was next to Mio’s.
Tuning out Hanaka and Saho’s romantic discussion, Mio asked, “What is it? Did you already finish eating lunch?”
“Um, yes. I ate in the literature club room with the others… But I have something to tell you.”
Mio noticed the girl looked a bit on edge and confused.
“Shiraishi just spoke to me in the hallway.” Yanai tensed when she spoke his name. The eyes behind her glasses appeared troubled, and they blinked slowly in her attempt to regain control. “He asked me…he asked me to switch seats. Because he wants to sit by you.”
Goose bumps formed on Mio’s skin instantly.
Hanaka and Saho were holding their breath, watching wide-eyed and silent. Yanai seemed very distressed.
“I figured it was a joke, but I felt I should tell you anyway. Sorry.”
Yanai left the classroom quickly, practically scampering.
The first thing to break through Mio’s numb shock was anger.
Why? Why? The question repeated. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this kind of attention. She’d met him only the day before, and there was nothing between them. Why was he doing this?
“I can’t believe it,” Saho and Hanaka said. They each put a hand on one of Mio’s shoulders.
“You all right, Mio?”
“He can’t do that just because he loves you.”
“Because he loves you.”
Saho’s words sent a chill down Mio’s spine. Love. Maybe that was how he saw it. Mio didn’t feel that way at all. Forcing those feelings on her felt akin to violence.
“It’s sexual harassment,” said Hanaka. The strength of those words took Mio’s breath away.
Sexual harassment. Maybe that’s right, she thought dully. But it didn’t feel right at all.
“It’s not sexual harassment, though. It doesn’t have anything to do with my gender…”
“Really? Well, it’s something harassment. Whatever it is, it should have a name—being ignorant of your social distance with another person,” Hanaka replied.
She had a good point. Something was going on: Shiraishi was making demands and upsetting Mio with no apparent realization that it was wrong. It wasn’t normal behavior.
“Let’s go tell him off,” Hanaka suggested. Mio looked up, on the brink of tears, and her friend continued, “We’ll go to the new kid and say, ‘What do you think you’re doing? Whether you like Mio or not, she doesn’t like you.’”
“I don’t…know if that’s…,” she replied, half on reflex.
“Why not?” Hanaka asked, one eyelid narrowed. “If you don’t want to go in person, we’ll do it for you.”
“Thank you. But…”
More than anything, Mio didn’t want to worsen the situation. To tell him off and speak her mind would be to declare antagonism. It would be best if she could ignore the issue until it passed.
“I’m afraid that just telling him to stop might make him worse.”
“Yeah, I think I actually agree with you,” Saho added, trying to calm an incensed Hanaka. “It kind of feels like giving him attention will feed the fire. Maybe not engaging is the best response.”
“Really? But won’t it feel terrible if you stay quiet and he escalates regardless? It’ll be so humiliating.”
“Hanaka, be quiet,” Saho urged, leaning closer. Her eyes were trained on the doorway. Mio clamped her mouth shut along with her friends.
Shiraishi had returned to the class. Perhaps he had gone to eat lunch today. He returned to his seat. Mio avoided looking at him. If she saw him watching her, she might actually scream this time.
Saho and Hanaka likely watched him longer than Mio risked doing so. They didn’t say anything, meaning he probably wasn’t watching. Mio’s heart raced. She was relieved that Shiraishi wasn’t staring. Still, after what he’d said to Yanai, it was hard to believe he wasn’t going to do anything more unless he was seriously messing with her.
“…Do you think Yanai actually said no to him?” asked Saho.
“Huh?”
Saho sounded hesitant to voice her question. “She came to tell you that he asked to switch seats with her, but what did she say back? I’m sure she turned him down.”
Mio realized that Saho was right; she’d never heard Yanai’s answer.
“…I’ll go and check.”
It was all right. It would be all right. But that didn’t stop the uneasiness in Mio’s chest.
Her appetite was gone, so she packed up her boxed lunch and hurried out into the hallway to find Yanai.