“Ugggh,” Tobi’s backpack groaned. “I’m friggin’ starving…”
Pretty sure I already told you to quiet down, Tobi thought. He was seriously tempted to punt Baku straight across the room, but considering that said room was his classroom, pulling a stunt like that first thing in the morning would be sure to get him branded a weirdo. Instead, he satisfied himself with clicking his tongue and sighing.
A moment later, Tobi’s gaze drifted to the right, toward the row of desks closest to the hallway, where Ryuuko Shiratama sat. It turned out Ryuuko was looking at him, too. Her brow was furrowed, and she was frowning. She was obviously worried.
“Oryuuuu,” Baku moaned in a cloyingly tragic tone. “You’ve gotta save me! Feed me something, please…”
“Something…,” Ryuuko muttered, cradling her head in her hands.
If Tobi had been closer, he would have warned her that she’d spoken out loud. That said, he couldn’t blame her. This was obviously Baku’s fault. He was starting to make Tobi genuinely mad. Unfortunately, Baku wasn’t easily intimidated. Tobi didn’t know what to do about him.
In the end, the bell signaling the start of class rang before Tobi came up with any good ideas. The door slid open, and Mr. Harimoto, the hedgehog-haired, red tracksuit–clad homeroom teacher of Class 2-3, did not walk inside, much to Tobi’s surprise. The scattered sounds of confusion from his classmates made it clear Tobi wasn’t alone. He hadn’t made any noise, but he’d simply been too taken aback to respond.
Instead of Mr. Harimoto, a girl entered the classroom. And judging by her apparent age, she wasn’t a teacher at all. That said, she also wasn’t wearing a uniform. Tobi couldn’t tell if she was a middle schooler or not. Her hair was messy, like she’d just gotten out of bed, and she had a pair of headphones hanging around her neck. Tobi’s attention was then drawn to her T-shirt. It had two words printed on it: “THA ZEN.”
“‘Zazen,’ maybe…?” Ryuuko muttered. Tobi had thought the same thing. It was almost like their thoughts were perfectly in sync, which made him oddly embarrassed.
The zazen girl turned her rather gloomy gaze on Ryuuko, shooting her a disdainful glance. It only lasted for a split second, though, before she walked over to the lectern, stopped, and looked around the classroom.
Her gaze met Tobi’s.
The zazen girl’s eyebrow and a corner of her mouth twitched. Tobi didn’t know how to interpret the expression, but he suddenly thought, Maybe she knows about me. He wasn’t sure why he’d gotten that impression. He certainly didn’t know anything about her. He’d never seen her before in his life.
The zazen girl picked up a piece of chalk, raised it to the blackboard, and wrote down a name with quick, powerful motions.
Monika Asahi
“That’s me. Monika Asahi,” the girl said, turning to face the class once more. “Nice to meet you.”
That, as it happened, was the exact moment that Mr. Harimoto—aka Harry—burst into the room wearing his signature red tracksuit. “Now wait just a minute, Asahi!” he shouted. “Where were you?! You just vanished! I’ve been looking everywhere…!”
“Oh.” Asahi scratched her head. “I thought, ‘Hey, it’s kinda rare for a transfer student to introduce herself before the teacher gets there, huh?’ I was curious how it’d go.”
“N-now, look here. Having a sense of curiosity’s great and all, but not like this,” Harimoto sputtered. Judging by the sweat stains on his tracksuit, he’d been running around pretty frantically.
“Well, I got my answer.” Asahi shrugged and flashed him an unconvincing smile. “Guess I flubbed my entrance, huh?”
“…And she thinks that’s the problem?” Baku commented.
Tobi had to agree. Asahi was grumbling about her self-intro, but the way Tobi saw it, the real issue here was on a whole other level. The rest of Class 2-3’s students seemed just as dumbstruck.
“W-well, anyway, that’s how it is! I know this is sudden…” Harimoto paused to clear his throat, then walked over to the new girl. “But this is Monika Asahi, and as of today, she’ll be joining our class. She wound up here rather suddenly due to family circumstances, so we haven’t had time to get her a uniform yet.”
“Hey, teach?” Asahi raised a hand to about shoulder height. It was just about the most listless way she could have managed the gesture.
“Hmm? Y-yes?” said Harimoto.
“Where’s my desk?”
“Huh? Oh, right! You need a desk, of course. Let’s see…”
“Looks like there’re a few open,” she noted.
In theory, Class 2-3 had thirty-six students. Asahi found four empty desks, though, and pointed them out in sequence. Her finger moved slowly, as if she didn’t want to expend the energy it would take to pick up the pace. In fact, everything about her gave that same impression.
“Lot of absences today?” she asked.
“…No, umm… The thing is…” Harimoto glanced away uncomfortably as silence descended upon the classroom.
A lot of absences. That was true. She wasn’t wrong. One of the desks in the back row belonged to Rukana Shizukudani, who wasn’t really absent but spent her days in the nurse’s office instead of the classroom. The desk in the back row by the windows, however, belonged to Miyuki Takatomo, who was hospitalized. She still hadn’t regained consciousness. One of the desks in the front row was empty as well. It was Chiami Kon’s, and she was currently at home, resting in the hopes of making a full recovery. Finally, Shuuji Masaki, aka Masamune, was currently in no condition to attend school. His extended leave of absence had begun without warning.
It had been a very turbulent period for the class, and looking back, the other students probably had all sorts of feelings about it. Tobi’s were as complicated as anyone’s. The string of incidents in Class 2-3 had involved Kon’s and Masamune’s zingai—and those zingai had been eaten by none other than Baku.
“I want one of the back ones,” Asahi said, gesturing toward the far end of the room with her chin. Pointing, apparently, would’ve been too much effort. “All the way over there. It’ll let me keep an eye on everything.”
“…One of those desks belongs to a student who was hurt and is hospitalized…and the other to a student who takes her lessons in the nurse’s office.” Harimoto sounded uncomfortable as he explained. “The other two vacant seats belong to students who are absent on account of illness. Honestly, it’s my fault for not having a desk ready for you in the first place. I only learned you’d be transferring in this morning, and I didn’t have time to make all the proper arrangements. I’ll ask Haizaki to—”
“’Kay.” Asahi glanced toward the door as if to say, Well, what are you waiting for? Get to it. “Please do,” she said.
“Sure…,” said Harimoto.
“Guess I’ll stand, then.”
“I suppose I should hurry it up…”
“If you could, that’d be great.”
“G-give me a moment. Sorry, Asahi.”
“If you’re really sorry, then you could try pulling yourself together, Mr. Harimoto.”
“F-fair enough…”
And with that, Harimoto dashed out of the classroom. Tobi heard a few scattered whispers along the lines of “Did you see that…?” and “Goddamn.” The stir quietly persisted for some time, gaining and fading in intensity but never completely dying out.
Asahi stood at the front of the classroom, arms crossed, glancing around vacantly. From time to time, she’d tilt her neck to one side, then the other. She seemed totally disinterested in her surroundings and incredibly audacious when it came to letting that show.
“Y’know,” Baku muttered with a sneer, “I think our new transfer student might be one hell of a character.”
Just then, perhaps by pure coincidence, Asahi looked straight at Tobi. Her eyebrow and the corner of her mouth twitched. If he hadn’t known better, Tobi would have thought she was smirking.
Maybe it really was just a coincidence. But Baku had spoken, and she’d looked at him right afterward.