Cheerful Girl
Sanke has always harbored a deep affection for his schoolmate, whom he fondly calls 'the cheerful girl.' Finally, he resolves to approach her; however, as he does so, his eagerness to get to know her and his curiosity will lead him into unforeseen circumstances...
Index
Chapter 1
On a beautiful morning, calm and serene like the entire suburb, the neighborhood, and the house with the green gate, a ray of sunlight sneaked through the curtains and gently touched the forehead of a certain young man who was sleeping so deeply, unaware of how late it was.
That young man was me.
Sanke Jina, seventeen years old at the time.
A sudden impulse, which I attribute to the touch of that single ray of sunlight on my skin, jolted me back to reality and woke me up. With my eyes struggling against the morning's brightness, which had been underway for quite some time, I searched for the red digits of the alarm clock on the bedside table. And those digits did not lie: I was already late, and quite late indeed.
Groggy and with barely enough time or energy to feel like a complete fool, I hurriedly dressed and stuffed my notebooks into my backpack without much thought. The previous night had kept me awake, immersed in thoughts and ideas that prevented me from sleeping, and when sleep finally overcame me, it was already dawn.
So, I had overslept on the worst possible day.
It was the first day of school.
I rushed out of the room, though not quite ready, and in my hasty escape, I took just a fraction of a second to stop or something like that and greet my mother.
"I'm leaving!" I exclaimed.
By the time she reacted, I was already halfway out the door.
"Have a nice day!" I heard her say affectionately.
Once on the street, immersed in the tranquility and slowness of the neighborhood, which contrasted sharply with my urgency to get to class, trying to quicken my pace with the consequences of a night of poor rest weighing on me, memories began to flood my tired mind.
It was the third year of making the same journey to school, walking two dull blocks to the bus stop, nestled between a couple of trees with thick canopies, then taking the bus and getting off three blocks from the suburb’s high school. After repeating the same trip over and over again, my body did it automatically. I could even do it blindfolded if there were no vehicles that could run me over. And I could definitely do it while lost in my thoughts, reminiscing about what had happened almost exactly two years earlier.
Two years earlier, I was preparing to start high school. It was unusually hot for the time of year, and I couldn't stop thinking about anything even remotely related to the new stage my life was entering. Thoughts raced through my mind, some so fast that they vanished irretrievably into thin air before I could determine their meaning or even give them proper attention. I had rarely been so restless and anxious. It was the uncertainty about what the new school had in store for me—or didn't have. I'm not exaggerating when I say I expected to enter a new world where at every step, in every unexplored corner, I would encounter strangers—because only two of my elementary school friends, Kazu and Emell, would be attending the same high school as me; the rest I would see outside of class hours. In addition, I would be one of the youngest in the entire school, and I would interact with young people I had never seen before, meet new teachers, engage in new activities, learn a ton of new things about life and the world...
All these thoughts and many more filled my mind, but in a vague way, eluding my attempts to focus and dwell on them. The natural eagerness of any new student like me only added to the internal unease I felt.
Suddenly, a hand gently grasped my arm.
It was my mother, bringing me back to wakefulness.
"Are you going to be late on the first day of school?" she asked me, with an unusually affectionate tone, or so I recall, and which, of course, I couldn't comprehend. Then she stepped away from my side and left the room, leaving me to feel like a fool in solitude. At some point in the early morning hours, my excited mind had been defeated by sleep. And there I was, sitting on the bed, watching the new day's light spill over the rooftops of the neighborhood.
That day I had thought about so much, and for which I had stirred up so much internal turmoil, had already begun without waiting for me.
I jumped out of bed without delay and rushed off to school. Before practically ejecting myself from my house, I greeted my parents. In my haste, it hadn't even occurred to me to have something from the breakfast they had prepared for me to eat on the way, so I wouldn't arrive at school on an empty stomach.
No, it was of utmost importance to be at school from the very first minute, if not from the very first second. And if I had to sacrifice breakfast to achieve that, then so be it, just this once.
Out on the street, desperate, beginning to feel the gnawing emptiness in my stomach, I wanted to believe that I still had a chance to arrive early, or at least on time, with the school bell ringing in my ears. I considered that maybe... no, certainly, arriving late on the first day of school would earn me an inconveniently bad reputation, and that worried me a bit.
Amidst my anxious steps at the bus stop, which to an unfamiliar observer might have seemed more like those of a lunatic, I thought that the real world was a fraud.
"If fictional stories were real, I could try to stop time and arrive punctually... And have something to eat as well... But no, in this reality, it's not possible. How dull, how fraudulent this world is. If only I could do like that maid and stop time, do like Sakura... no, Sayaka, that's her name; Sayaka... Asayoi or something like that..."
But there was no way to blame those who created characters with such useful abilities. The situation I found myself in was solely and exclusively due to my irresponsibility. As one grows up, one learns to accept it.
On the bus, which took what felt like an eternity to arrive, I continued to think about the day I was already living. At some point during the journey, my stomach unintentionally settled a bit, but my brain was overwhelmed by so many thoughts. Since the previous night, my mind had been unusually hyperactive and chatty. My head was starting to feel heavy. Nervously checking the time constantly, I calculated what must be happening at school. The events should be the same as in any school on the first day of classes: first, the opening of the doors; then, a welcome speech by the principal, followed by entry into the classroom and the start of the first class...
Finally, I reached my destination, but despite my efforts, there was no miracle or even a merciful nod from fate. Just as I had feared, the doors had already been closed, and to have them opened, I had to ring the bell and request permission to enter. Already feeling humiliated, I pressed the button and waited for someone to find me at the door, hoping as a favor that they would let me in.
I walked decisively through the vestibule, which gave the impression of being much larger than it actually was due to the almost total absence of furniture and the excessive height of the vaulted ceiling. From the facade, the school looked like a somewhat old building, which the interior atmosphere confirmed. Apart from various portraits of historical figures hanging on the walls painted in a watery green, there was only a nearly empty trophy case and a desk and chair to one side, where I deduced that the stern-faced person who had just opened the door used to sit. My hurried steps timidly echoed on the gigantic marble tiles.
Having crossed the vestibule, I found myself in the main corridor on the ground floor. I was surprised to suddenly find myself surrounded by a crowd of students. "Maybe it's not so late after all," I thought hopefully. Immediately, I wondered if the school year's opening speech had not yet taken place, or if, on the contrary, it had already ended. Everyone I saw seemed relaxed, as if they were on a break. I soon noticed that they looked older than me, indicating that they were probably from the upper classes. Some of them looked at me and whispered to each other; others wore a curious expression, but most of them ignored me, or simply watched me pass without paying much attention. And I didn't stop at any point; I was focused on finding Kazu and Emell, and my entire class with them. My nervous steps followed one another, and I didn't see my friends, nor any teacher or responsible adult I could ask where my classroom was. I had to find it on my own, therefore.
Midway, I found the answer to my earlier question. To my left, I saw huge doors wide open, and behind them, a vast courtyard, which was also visible through the large windows between the aforementioned doors. At that precise moment, the courtyard was emptying of students; that is, they were flooding into the corridor.
Three girls who passed me by were chatting among themselves. I clearly heard one of them say:
"That principal is really scary. I wouldn't want to get into trouble this year."
The other two girls laughed, although their friend had sounded quite sincere.
No matter how much I allowed myself a brief glance through the immaculate glass of one of the windows, I couldn't spot anyone whose appearance could be attributed to that of a terrifying school principal. I could make out a platform and a lectern in the middle of the courtyard, but there was no one within a couple of meters. Quickly, I swept curiosity, which was wasting my time, out of my mind and continued walking down the corridor. I reached the end of that one without finding my classroom, so I headed up the stairs to the first floor.
In stark contrast to what I had seen below, the first-floor corridor was completely empty and silent. This allowed me to run to the classroom that I had to find first. It didn't take me long to do so; the signage was clear.
I fixed my gaze for a moment on the sign that read "1-A," took a deep breath, and opened the door slowly, not wanting to interrupt what was happening inside the classroom. But it was impossible not to do so, of course. And what a moment to arrive: my classmates were already introducing themselves.
As soon as the first square centimeter of me entered the classroom, all eyes turned to me in an avalanche, and a multitude of eyes scanned me from head to toe. I noticed that someone who had been talking suddenly fell silent. I advanced with sealed lips, my mouth twisted with embarrassment, and my head slightly inclined, like a puppy that knows it's about to be scolded.
The teacher looked at me from his balding heights, and in his eyes, I felt mercilessness, or so I thought at the moment. After a couple of the most awkward seconds of my life, the teacher said:
"Well, I thought we were all in already."
A faint muffled murmur, as if someone was suppressing a laugh, timidly echoed through the classroom.
Turning toward me, the teacher continued:
"Good morning, student. Since you've just arrived, you'll have to introduce yourself right away."
The feeling of shame only increased, and in the confusion I was falling into, I couldn't find the faces of my friends, who I assumed must be somewhere in that classroom.
"Yes, of course... Good morning..." I said, hesitating.
I remembered that I hadn't practiced introducing myself, as Emell had recommended, or even thought about what I was going to say about myself. I felt like there wasn't much to tell; I was just an ordinary young man, like any other; nothing extraordinary or remarkable or interesting could be said about me at that time, or so I thought at the time (and it was true).
However, I had to say something. Anything. And there was no time to think; I had to improvise, something I must confess I was never good at.
"Hello, I'm Sanke... Sanke Jina... I hope we get along. I like... um... playing..."
And my lungs froze.
"Playing ball, he means. He and I always play ball with friends," my good friend Kazu said from somewhere in the classroom, coming to the rescue.
So, the lung paralysis stopped in less than a second, and it passed mysteriously when my uncontrolled eyes landed on Kazu's amused face. Next to him was Emell.
"Yes, that's it, among other things. I have many interests, like... living beings... I mean, Biology..." I tried to add, relieved to have stumbled upon the pair of familiar faces and having gained enough confidence to conclude my introduction and then rush to occupy an available seat, torn between the belief that I had handled the moment satisfactorily and the hope that I hadn't made a fool of myself in front of the class and the teacher.
"Short and concise, as it should be," the teacher pronounced, somewhat pedantic in his attitude. I was starting to feel relieved when he added:
"Although somewhat ambiguous as well."
What he said next restored some of the lost tranquility:
"But I'll let it pass this time. There are many of us, and I have a class to teach. You may sit down, student. You have a seat over there," and he pointed to a desk in the third row.
Off I went, amid what I knew to be inquisitive gazes, but ones I couldn't muster the courage to meet.
Despite being late, from a lenient point of view, my infraction hadn't been too serious. As I realized in that desk in the third row, far from my favorite area—the back—but at least not in my least favorite area—the first row, right in front of the teachers—about half of the class had arrived before me. As the feeling of pathos that had invaded me dissipated, my mind gradually regained its excitement; for the moment, there were too many new faces and too many names and surnames that I forgot in seconds, if I managed to pay attention to them at all.
However, my initial excitement dissipated too quickly as the lesson grew tedious; as that feeling left me, exhaustion from my long night without sleep took over. So, when the bell rang, announcing the first recess of the day, I felt truly happy and energized.
Outside the classroom, I met up with Kazu and Emell.
"Only you could be late on the first day of school," the former said to me.
"Yes, what happened? We were waiting for you, as we had agreed," Emell added.
"He overslept," Kazu confirmed on my behalf. "Look at the sleepy look on his face. And your hair is all messed up there," he added, pointing to my head with his finger, signaling where I needed to fix my hair.
I yawned and asked both of them to wait for me before taking a stroll around the school. Then I went to the bathroom, which was just a few meters from the classroom door, making sure to keep my face turned to the side so that anyone I crossed paths with wouldn't see my appearance. By Kazu's tone of voice, I must have looked bad, very unkempt. That couldn't be convenient; if I didn't look good, I wouldn't be respected or taken seriously by any of my new classmates, not to mention the teachers.
However, when I looked at my face in the mirror, I didn't judge it as bad as I had imagined or as Kazu had made it seem. Kazu sometimes added unnecessary seriousness or gravity to what he wanted to say, apart from not usually having a tact for certain things. But if it didn't affect me, it was because I was his friend, and I knew him well, and I understood that that was his way of being, that he didn't always measure his words and actions, and that he didn't realize that sometimes what he said could be misinterpreted or considered rude.
Furthermore, he was right that my hair was messy: on one side of my head, a small bunch of hair stuck out, taking on the shape of a horn, with the tip pointing out. I wetted one of my hands with water and smoothed out the horn, taking the opportunity to tidy up my entire hair. Then I washed my face very briefly, just to remove any traces of drowsiness that might have lingered.
"I can't believe I overslept today. I must be the only one to have these things happen to them," I lamented. "Why is it that... things don't go as I hope?"
The opening of the door, reflected in the mirror in front of me, distracted me from my thoughts. Kazu appeared behind the door.
"Are you ready now?"
The three of us set off. It didn't take me long to notice, although I had a suspicion that had arisen earlier, during my sprint to the classroom, that all the first-year classrooms were on the first floor. Additionally, at one end of the floor were the classrooms for the 2-A and 2-B courses, facing each other. Between them, like a divider, was the final stretch of corridor before the stairs we used to visit the ground floor.
There, we were surprised by a crowd of students who packed both the corridors and the courtyard. To continue on our way, we had to make our way through in a line, like earthworms burrowing through the garden soil; with so many people around, it was difficult to pay attention to the places we were passing. But I, in particular, was looking at the students. They formed more or less numerous groups, leaving no one alone, and they chatted animatedly, generally speaking loudly or even shouting to overcome the background noise generated by all of them together. They all seemed happy to be with their friends, to meet them again, and to start a new school year together. I wondered then if I would develop friendships with any of those people and if I could become part of a more popular group. Because in the previous school years, I had spent them with my best friends, and we were not exactly popular, much less charismatic, and we didn't stand out for any achievements. Kazu was a below-average student, who compulsively opened his mouth and, no matter how hard he tried, either didn't realize or didn't know how to be funny. Emell was a slightly above-average student, calm, peaceful, with a meek spirit, and he could say the most serious phrases or the most absurd jokes with the same slow voice and the same expressionless face, so sometimes it was hard to tell when he was being serious and when he was joking. And me... maybe I wasn't very different from my friends, although I wasn't the joking type, but the laughing type instead. My grades weren't impressive, but they didn't get me into trouble either, and I wasn't very skilled in sports, although I certainly enjoyed playing soccer. I always tried to be friendly with everyone, but that hadn't won me any great popularity among my classmates, let alone made me a charismatic student.
We exited to the courtyard. Many groups, like mine, moved from one place to another, while others occupied the benches or stood in small circles. During the short journey we made to explore the place, I saw a student pull a tiny rubber ball out of his clothes and start playing soccer with other students near one of the walls, taking advantage of the fact that there was no authority watching. I thought about going to talk to them at some point and becoming their friend, so that I could be included in future recess matches. Around one of the benches on the other side of the courtyard, six students were playing cards, being observed very attentively and even with some excitement by a congregation of spectators.
But Kazu and Emell didn't pay much attention to what I was observing. Both of them were walking ahead of me, speaking in hushed voices, barely moving their lips, talking about the girls they saw, referring to them using appropriate codes based on their appearance and exchanging opinions discreetly. It was only then that I realized I hadn't paid much attention to the girls. I suppose I wasn't very interested in them at that time, or at least that's what I believed.
The stroll ended too quickly, considering the school wasn't that big, and before the recess was over, I found myself back on the first floor with a sleepy look on my face and my back leaning heavily against the wall in front of classroom 1-A's door, not feeling much like talking. However, I had to be grateful for not being alone; with my friends, I felt it would be much easier to adapt to the new environment.
But, for the time being, there was nothing to do except wait for the bell to ring and for the math teacher to show up at last. Just waiting, doing nothing, with a blank mind.
Or was there?
Maybe.
Well, yes. And that's the point. It's just that, at that moment, when I felt that nothing was happening inside me (only time slipping away ghostly, unpunished, leaving barely a trace of its escape), something unique and unrepeatable happened.
What I haven't forgotten after all this time.
A girl came out of the classroom, and as she did, our eyes met for a fraction of a second.
All that didn't last long at all. I didn't know the girl and didn't remember seeing her before (in fact, during that very brief moment, I didn't pay much attention to her overall appearance), even though we were apparently in the same class. I also didn't remember hearing her introduction. The two of us were separated by a distance of five meters. And yet, I can't say that nothing happened. Something did happen. It's just that it's difficult for me to describe it clearly. It was something I couldn't ignore.
To be more precise, I felt something simultaneously with the meeting of our gazes. What did I feel exactly? I suppose I can describe it as a sudden "realization" of something or as a signal from the unconscious, a warning or a call from the depths of my mind or consciousness, but without words; a message in an empty envelope; a sentence spoken by a mute voice. It was as if there was something special about that girl, something in her cheerful, fresh, and carefree look, and as if I had to know it without knowing her.
As for the girl, she never stopped walking, and in a matter of seconds, she had escaped from my field of vision. And I stood still, starting to try to ignore it.
Kazu distracted me with an elbow nudge.
"He says he knows a comic book store nearby. Do you want to go with us after school?" he said.
Behind Kazu, Pier, one of the first-year students, appeared.
"Sure."
Although I tried to downplay whatever had happened, as soon as I was back in the classroom, I saw the girl again. From my seat, I saw her take a seat in the front row, accompanied by her friends. This would be repeated throughout the school year, more than once a day. Due to my location in the classroom, when the girl in question turned her head to talk to her three friends—one of whom sat next to her, while the other two occupied the pair of desks behind—part of her face was revealed to me. She had a lively gaze in a pair of wide-open eyes that sparkled, although one of them was frequently at the point of being covered by her bangs, and a serene and permanent smile, characteristic of someone who enjoyed every moment of her life as a stroll, and for some reason, it caused me a sense of calm. Furthermore, her radiant and fresh demeanor, her attitude, and her ease and elegance of movement were not forced, but rather appeared natural in her. This added to her charm, making her seem even more special.
She was a truly beautiful girl.
That's why I couldn't help but look in her direction every now and then.
So, as the days went by, from seeing that cheerful girl walking happily through the classroom and the corridors, passing in front of me or by my side, talking animatedly with anyone, laughing at any mildly humorous comment, and maintaining an optimistic and calm expression on her face at all times, a change began to occur within me. This change was silent and gradual, and when I realized it, I had to admit that I couldn't see her like anyone else anymore. It was a bit strange, and it was hard for me to understand because I had never felt this way before. And it was because I had never met anyone like her either.
So, during the almost eternal bus ride to school, I couldn't stop thinking about her, knowing that I would see her again after the holidays. It made me anxious, which didn't help the impatience I had been carrying since the moment I left my house.
I began to think that perhaps it was time to approach her at last. It was unheard of that, after all this time, I knew so little about her—her name... and not much more.
Kari was her name; before I knew her name, I referred to her as "the cheerful girl" in the safe privacy of my thoughts.
Yes, it was her that I was starting to like.
The cheerful girl.
Chapter 2
One would think that when you make a mistake, especially one of a certain seriousness, you learn your lesson and genuinely try not to make it again because you don't want to face a situation of that certain seriousness once more.
But some of us don't always learn. For some reason, we end up failing, and that makes us feel bad, knowing that we were unable to prevent the situation from repeating.
So, my shoulders slumped with resignation as I saw the school doors closed, just like two years ago. The prison-like gray covering them had sealed my fate. I wanted to sigh, but it came out as a gasp. It was exhaustion, no doubt.
I had to ring the bell and wait for them to let me in, becoming the excuse for an unfunny comment behind my back. While waiting, I noticed that the doors looked refreshed. During the holidays, they had received a fresh coat of paint.
"How could I have overslept today of all days? Oh, maybe there's no saving me now. I'm starting the year on the wrong foot," I muttered to myself, walking briskly toward the classroom.
Part of me didn't want to open the door, especially after hearing a powerful adult voice echoing inside the classroom. But I had to enter, just as everyone else must have already done. So I did, of course.
The teacher shot me a stern look and, for a moment, didn't say a word; her expression could have very well reflected disapproval for my late and untimely entrance. I didn't say anything either, as I was waiting for her to speak first.
"Is this your class, student?" she finally asked, without removing her heavy gaze from me.
"Yes, good morning. I'm sorry I…"
"In that case, introduce yourself before taking a seat," she said, not waiting for me to finish speaking. "I was just about to start today's class. This is Biology, by the way," she added, pointing rudely to the subject name written in giant letters on the chalkboard, something only I could have overlooked.
"Yes, of course," I said, with an insecure voice. However, I gathered my strength to face the moment. Over the years, I had learned to introduce myself decently.
"Good morning, everyone. My name is Sanke Jina. I really enjoy sports, and this year I hope to join the soccer team for the city championship. Oh, and also…"
But there, I came to an abrupt stop. I froze, but no one noticed because that freeze lasted only for a brief moment.
I froze from the eyes as soon as I noticed that there was only one empty seat in the whole classroom, in the second row. Behind Kari, the cheerful girl.
"…I hope this is a good year for everyone," I finished, with a sincere and maybe even a slightly sentimental tone, a smile on my face, suddenly content.
The entire class burst into laughter. The teacher felt the need to intervene.
"Students! Please!"
And then, as I looked at her, I saw that her lips twisted as if she were suppressing a smile, and her severe expression had softened.
"All right, student, take your seat and try to be on time from now on," she said.
She didn't have to repeat it. I nodded obediently and went to the desk that seemed—from a delusional point of view—reserved for me. On the short journey, I spotted my friends Kazu and Emell further back, in the middle of the classroom, on one side, near the wall that separated us from the corridor. They moved slightly to discover another empty desk behind them. That was the real seat reserved for me. Nevertheless, I chose to act oblivious and confirmed the second-row seat reservation. Before even settling into the chair, the two girls accompanying the cheerful girl—one beside her and the other behind her—turned toward me with piercing, icy, and cold stares, aiming directly at my eyes. They were the friends of the cheerful girl acting as bodyguards. I didn't let myself be intimidated, although I certainly had reasons to feel uncomfortable, and I kept my gaze fixed ahead, above the cheerful girl's hair.
"This seat belongs to Ruri, who couldn't come today," one of the girls told me in a low voice, placing a finger on the desk that I had so cheerfully occupied.
"Yes, she's not coming today, but when she returns, she'll sit here," added the other.
"Yes, she and her family got stranded at the airport and couldn't return from their vacation, but we're saving the seat for her until she can come back," the first one completed.
"Tomorrow she'll be back, for sure."
Unwilling to pay them any attention and give them the satisfaction of seeing me annoyed, I simply responded curtly, "Okay."
Then, having noticed the whispers, the teacher turned around, wordlessly inviting us to be quiet.
It was almost impossible for me to explain how those two wicked entities, named Aira and Hana, could be such close friends with the cheerful girl. Their personalities... or more precisely, just the vibes they brought with them, contrasted sharply with that of their friend. The cheerful girl and her friends were so different that they somehow attracted each other. Aira and Hana were overly arrogant, proud, and conceited; I saw them as typical rich kids who had grown up without privations (in fact, with privileges) and apparently lacked empathy for others. A somewhat stereotypical description, perhaps, but not necessarily untrue or inaccurate. They seemed to feel at ease only when they were with the cheerful girl, and they didn't interact much with the rest of the class, even though they were somewhat respected and admired by other students, especially those in lower grades. That's why a part of me believed that they felt like they were part of a tacit (albeit imaginary) royalty, and their classmates were the commoners they'd rather avoid.
Perhaps Kari kept them close not because she liked them but because, being so kind, she was able to control them and prevent them from performing "evil deeds" against us.
The other friend and the fourth member of the group, Ruri, was less arrogant and more approachable to the other students; she was usually more reserved, even somewhat introverted, and deep down, she had a heart—you could tell. But hanging out with the two demons made her seem like them on occasion.
So, when I impulsively decided to sit behind the cheerful girl, getting closer to her than I had in two whole years of school, I had to endure the welcoming stern stares from her friends. However, they didn't manage to demoralize me, and I tried to go about my day as if it were any other. Even though I was distracted by the sight of the cheerful girl's hair, which, as I had noticed from the very beginning, was slightly shorter than usual, barely reaching her shoulders. And by the scent of flowers with a hint of fruit that emanated from her and enveloped me in a translucent, dreamy cloud, filling my lungs with pleasant and dreamlike air. Even just hearing her speak made me unconsciously catch my breath, perhaps to allow me to listen better, without any kind of interference, no matter how biologically necessary it might be.
"There you are," I heard a familiar voice say behind me.
When I turned to the one addressing me, I already knew who it was.
"We saved you a seat with us. Why did you sit up front?" Kazu half-reprimanded me.
"We told someone who tried to sit there that that seat was yours," Emell added.
"Sorry; I didn't see the empty chair."
"Of course not, you rushed to sit in that other place with the popular girls," Emell teased.
"Yeah, why would that be?" Kazu asked, with an exaggerated tone of mockery.
"It's the only one I saw," I defended myself, looking to the side. If my face had to give me away as a liar, I didn't want them to notice.
"Anyway, if you want, you can come with us."
"If he wants? He must," Kazu insisted.
I remembered what Aira and Hana had told me a while ago and said to reassure my friends, "Yes, yes, tomorrow I'll sit with you, as usual."
The next morning, I woke up before my alarm clock could jolt me out of sleep with its annoying but useful melody. With my eyes wide open, I stared at the red digits on the clock, confirming that I had beaten the alarm by ten minutes. I then leaped out of bed as if propelled by springs. I had no desire to stay in bed that day; I couldn't quite explain why, but I felt unusually energetic and eager to get to school early.
I was so successful, the traffic was so cooperative, that I arrived at the school gates before they were opened, something I was not at all accustomed to. Like every morning, students from all grades were already waiting around the entrance. I scanned the crowd to find a friendly face or at least a familiar one to chat with during the few minutes before the bell rang. But it was me they found. Someone approached me, and I noticed it with a sideways glance.
"Hello!" she greeted me so cheerfully.
Making an effort to maintain composure, given that I had been caught off guard, I greeted her back as best I could.
"Oh, hi, how are you?"
"Good, thanks. I wanted to tell you something yesterday, but I couldn't find you," the cheerful girl added promptly, as if in a hurry, now that I think about it. "I heard what Aira and Hana told you yesterday, and I wanted you not to take it the wrong way. You can sit wherever you want: if you want to keep sitting next to us, that's fine."
A couple of seconds passed, and since I didn't say a word, she had to prompt me:
"Okay?"
"Yes, of course. Anyway... I'll give up the seat to Ruri," and what I said next slipped out; I even said it hesitantly, "so she won't be separated from you."
"Oh, how kind!" the cheerful girl exclaimed sweetly, and her usually raised eyebrows lowered and curved, and in the movement of her well-defined chin, a sense of relief seemed to be revealed. "I really appreciate that."
"It's nothing," I said, feeling embarrassed.
"Anyway... Ruri won't be coming yet. She's still stranded with her family. It'll be a few more days, so don't worry!"
And, suddenly and unpredictably, as she glided away over the pavement, she winked at me amiably and directed a strange gesture of approval toward me.
And then the bell rang.
'I wanted to tell you something...'
Taken out of context, that phrase could be subject to misinterpretation; it could create false hopes, false expectations in a person like me, who could barely hold a spontaneous conversation with the cheerful girl, who was easily distracted by the vitality of her always wide-open eyes, the movements of her lips when she spoke, and the harmony that existed between them.
Because when you're young, a person's kindness or goodness towards you can be mistaken for invented or exaggerated affection—out of place in any case—or it can accidentally awaken such feelings in you.
Why would she want to tell me something special when we barely knew each other by sight?
'...But I couldn't find you.'
So she had been looking for me? There was no doubt about it unless she had been lying, and the cheerful girl didn't seem like the type to lie. Yes, she had been looking for me, but she hadn't found me.
Where had she looked that she hadn't found me?
'How kind,' she had told me.
Kind, me? She was the kind one. And she was loved, beloved by everyone.
Kari was by far the most popular student in the class and in the whole school, an exemplary person, genuinely kind and charismatic. There was no surprise as to why we all held her in such high regard. She was always in a good mood, a very dynamic and lively person. She treated all of us as if we were long-time friends, cared about our problems, and celebrated our good news. She was more supportive, empathetic, and kind than anyone else. She offered to help anyone with anything and to accompany anyone who needed it. Her energy radiated in all directions, lifting everyone's spirits. It was natural that she dazzled others, including me, who had trouble returning a greeting without the risk of getting lost in her tender and youthful face. Moreover, Kari was the class representative on the Student Council... and its President. Although the title of queen or princess would have suited her better. And we, of course, were her subjects. If she dropped a pencil, two of us would immediately throw ourselves to the ground to pick it up, clean it, and return it to her, while a third offered his own pencil just as quickly... Well, I'm exaggerating a bit, but not by much. What I don't need to exaggerate is that her re-election as class representative the day before had been a mere formality—no one had run against her—and that year, she would also be re-elected as Student Council President by an overwhelming margin over her only rival. That's how much trust we had in her, not only in Class 3-A but in the whole school.
"President Kari," we called her, because we held her in such high esteem, but we also had a down-to-earth affection for her, the kind she preferred because it made her feel normal and brought her back to earth with the rest of us. On the other hand, according to my ears, her group of friends called her "Karicchi" in more private or informal situations.
And even though deep down Kari was one of us, a flesh-and-blood student leading a life more or less like the rest of the class and the school, and because of that, someone like me could approach her—provided I could get past her protective personal guardians—rarely had I been able to get close to her, much less become her friend or something like that, or even get to know any details of her personal life on my own merit.
But deep inside, I believed that could change.
Being one of the first students in the class to enter the school, I found the classroom empty. I walked alone between rows of desks toward the seat they had reserved for me the day before. However, halfway there, I stopped when I decided to review in my mind what the cheerful girl had just told me.
'Ruri won't be coming yet.'
'So, don't worry!'
'Don't worry!'
With immense doubt inside me, unable to decide whether to keep my word or allow myself to stay close to the cheerful girl for—just—one more day, I timidly placed my backpack on Ruri's seat, the one I had occupied, the one I had guarded.
Her voice surprised me.
"What are you doing? We have Chemistry class, and it's in the laboratory."
I felt stupid. How could I have forgotten? At the same time, the fact that there was no one else in the classroom apart from me made sense, even though it was early.
"Oh, yes, I was going," I replied.
"Very well, then, I'll see you there," she said, the cheerful girl, and headed for the door, apparently not wanting to waste any time.
However, she didn't make it through the exit when something made her stop in her tracks and turn back.
"Hey, so are you going to sit with us again today?"
Contrary to what one might think, the tone of her question didn't reflect annoyance or disappointment but simple curiosity.
"Um... yes... I suppose so, if there's no other available seat."
We left the classroom together, something we had never done in our lives. The cheerful girl soared with every step she took on the shiny gray tiles, as if she wanted to jump, as if she wanted to fly, but didn't dare. I could already see the regret of 'not worrying.' I had told my friends that I would sit with them, and Kari that I would leave the seat near her for Ruri. What reason could I have for not keeping my word?
Perhaps an involuntary selfishness, maybe a bit instinctual too, but one that faded away when circumstances were convenient.
"There should be one. If not, I'll ask them to bring you a desk," she told me.
Nothing less would be expected from our class president. Her generous selflessness was admirable, to say the least.
"Thank you."
"In the lab, there should be seats for everyone too. If you can't find a place, let me know, okay?"
"Yes, of course."
There was still a long way to go to reach the laboratory, and I had to say something to avoid an awkward silence.
"Um... a new haircut, right?"
"Oh, you noticed!" the cheerful girl exclaimed, somewhat impressed. "How observant! Yes, I got it trimmed a bit."
"It suits you very well."
"Oh, how sweet!" she said, running a hand through her hair. "Do you really think so? Doesn't it look weird?"
"Weird? Not at all."
"Thank you, Sanke," she said, and gave me one of those sugary smiles, with closed eyes and vigorously nodding her head, the kind I could never tire of.
I lowered my head as a thought suddenly bit the back of my neck. The cheerful girl interrupted her constant smile. Before she could ask me if something was wrong, aware that she was looking at me, I muttered:
"Kind..."
"Eh?" she tilted her head beautifully, more like a puppy.
"Today you said I'm kind... But you're the kind one."
In the brief second I managed to look into the cheerful girl's eyes, I felt embarrassed by what I was saying because my words came from my deepest sincerity, and I noticed I had made her uncomfortable. It seemed necessary to clarify what I was referring to so she wouldn't think I meant something else.
"I mean, you make sure there are seats for everyone..."
"Oh, it's nothing. It's my job as the president," she affirmed, and then a broad smile appeared on her face.
She said this without ostentation, making it seem like a duty, or rather, a responsibility entrusted to her that she was happy to have, rather than a position one flaunts to inflate their vanity, and which they don't perform properly. We didn't talk much more until we arrived at the chemistry lab, though we certainly managed to dispel the awkward atmosphere I had clumsily created by letting my thoughts speak without a filter. The cheerful girl took her seat at the workbench nearest the blackboard, where her friends were already waiting. I, on the other hand, stopped, as if tied to the ground, and looked at her.
Next to the girls, there was an empty stool.
I didn't know how to move from there, but a force, a wind only I could perceive, seemed to be pushing me in a certain direction. At the same time, another force, more mental, was resisting, telling me that I should find my friends and join them.
It was time to make a decision. And I did.
I didn't think about it and went to that incomplete workstation.
It wasn't good that there was an empty seat so close to the teacher. He might have thought someone didn't want to be in his class or near him, and that could have hurt his pride. Perhaps he would have felt bad noticing such an obvious absence. I could have offered excuses like that to my friends if necessary.
At least two-thirds of that group wouldn't welcome me, and yet I dared to try to join them. My friends would be mad at me, and I didn't even consider it for a second.
I didn't even get a chance to open my mouth to ask for permission when Aira and Hana turned toward me immediately. (That makes me think that some people seem to have motion sensors.) Dodging their highly suspicious glances, I pointed to the unoccupied stool and asked with partially concealed audacity:
"Can I sit here?"
Aira and Hana opened their mouths, but they had no reason to object. Ruri wasn't with them, and I knew she wouldn't be attending that day.
"Um... This is Ruri's seat. We're saving it for her," Aira said, presenting her lukewarm objections.
"It's okay, she won't be able to come today," the cheerful girl said, turning to me and adding, "so you can sit."
"But... it's Ruri's seat..." Hana insisted.
"Don't worry; when Ruri comes back, she'll have a seat."
Aira and Hana fell into silent submission. They would never dare to disobey or even question their sovereign's command.
"Thank you, thank you very much," I said, relieved. I quickly sat on the stool to the right of Aira; without looking at me, she pushed her stool closer to the cheerful girl as soon as I settled in mine. Hana ended up on the other end; her reaction was to ask the cheerful girl to switch seats. Puzzled, she accepted, clearly not realizing that by being at the end, she was far from me now.
It wasn't like in the classroom where I could steal glances at her now and then from my seat; now, she was on the side with two people between us.
For a moment, I felt like my decision had been in vain.
The Chemistry teacher announced:
"Students, in these first classes, we will learn how to prepare solutions and study some chemical reactions. You will have to prepare and submit group reports."
The professor's unexpected decision meant working with the cheerful girl and her inseparable henchwomen. I chose not to show enthusiasm about it, but, just a few centimeters away from me, Aira and Hana immediately started talking quietly and with a certain excitement. Glancing sideways, I thought I noticed Kari joining in the conversation. Were they speaking badly of me? Possibly; well, it was something I expected from the two demons, but not from the cheerful girl.
When the bell rang, inviting us to get out and enjoy our break, we had already agreed that we would write the report together at the President's house on the weekend following the second Chemistry class. There were about five days left, and I was already imagining what it would be like. I didn't know where Kari lived, although she had told me the neighborhood her house was in, so I had an idea of where the meeting would be.
Before leaving the lab and dispersing through the school's hallways, the cheerful girl told us she had something to do.
"I'll be back in a moment," she said.
It was strange that she told me that too, considering that I never spent breaks with her and her friends. At that moment, I didn't understand what she had to do, and I can't say that I understand it today either. The thing is, I left the lab alone. I was walking quietly when two people blocked my path.
None other than Aira and Hana.
"Do you really plan to stay in our group?" the first one asked, not as aggressively as I would have expected; the tone of her voice rather denoted sadness or disappointment.
"I thought you had your group of friends," Hana chimed in, "Why aren't you with them? Did they kick you out? Did you have a fight with them? Or did they have a fight with you?"
Losing my patience, I really wished I could confront them for once. However, my more rational side knew that it wasn't convenient, not only because those demons were capable of complicating my life if they wanted to, but also because if the cheerful girl found out I was at odds with her friends, she might distance herself from me, thinking I was a bad person. It was best not to take the risk; if I was patient, maybe I would have a chance to get closer to the cheerful girl without any barriers. An opportunity had to present itself at some point.
"We're not glued together," I replied. "Besides, I went with you because it was the only free spot I saw."
"Yes, but we were saving that spot for Ruri," Aira repeated.
"Don't you remember? Ruri always sits with us," Hana added.
"I understand. I didn't know we had to do a group project."
Aira and Hana looked at each other. They exchanged something without words.
"I thought that..." I tried to continue.
They didn't let me explain that my original idea was to sit there for just one day. Both of them leaned dangerously close, their faces filled with inquisitive looks, directed right into my eyes, as if trying to read my mind through them.
"Could it be that...?" Aira said.
"Maybe it is that...?" Hana wondered aloud.
But suddenly, they both leaned back and assumed a relaxed and natural posture. The cheerful girl was approaching us with her characteristically lively steps, full of positive energy.
"I'm back," she announced. "Oh, did you hear? Ruri is coming back tomorrow."
"That's great!"
"These are excellent news. How did you find out?"
"She just sent a message to our chat. She's about to board her flight back."
"At last, after all this time!"
Although one might have expected a reaction from me, I didn't say anything; I just smiled slightly out of courtesy. Ruri would have to return at some point. I accepted it immediately, naturally, without seeing any downside to it.
And since it was recess, we went our separate ways; the cheerful girl and her friends went their way, and I went mine to meet my friends.
The rest of the day wasn't very eventful. I felt good being inches away from the cheerful girl, although, sitting behind her, I could only see her face when she turned to talk to us, and even then, for anatomical reasons, I only saw half of her face at a time. Yes, when she had to tell us something, she addressed her friends and me as equals, as if I were a full-fledged member of the group. That's how kind she was. Aira and Hana didn't harass me again, not even looking at me as if I were an extraterrestrial or some disturbing creature emerging from a cold, damp cave. So, I started to feel comfortable, even at ease. I even began to think that Aira and Hana weren't that bad after all, that not knowing them had led me to exaggerate their personalities or have prejudices about them, or perhaps what I thought of them was because I didn't understand their way of being. Maybe they didn't despise me as some of their actions might suggest. Maybe the day we gathered for the dreaded Chemistry project would be enjoyable, and we would become friends... Or perhaps not so much, being a bit more realistic.
I really wanted to get to know Kari better.
Chapter 3
The next morning, I found myself waking up early again, beating the alarm by just a minute and a half. I was sleepy, it's true, but I ignored it. This time, I had prioritized my desire to arrive early at school over the benefit of resting for a few more minutes. Not that I had rushed to school anyway, or arrived before the doors opened. They were already wide open when I got there, so I went straight to the classroom and, finally, to the seat that had been reserved for me. A fleeting thought made me realize that I had been somewhat ungrateful to my friends, rejecting their offer to sit with them and choosing, or you could say preferring, to sit with the cheerful girl and her friends instead. But there was no need to continue being ungrateful. The early presence of Ruri in her seat confirmed it. We exchanged a brief glance, not daring to greet each other properly, although we both nodded so slightly to show that we were not ignoring each other.
I sat down and greeted Emell, who was flipping through his notebook behind me.
A few seconds later, the classroom door opened, and Aira and Hana entered. As soon as they saw that Ruri was finally back, they ran to greet her. The three girls hugged each other excitedly in front of the first row; Aira and Hana bombarded their friend with questions and comments.
I paid little attention to the scene and looked away.
"She'll arrive soon," Emell whispered in my ear.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, pretending not to understand.
"You know what I'm talking about. Or should I ask you out loud?"
I suddenly panicked.
"It won't be necessary."
I looked back at the door, which had been unopened for a full minute.
"Isn't it too much? I mean, how much time had passed? Three years, I think."
I could only avert my gaze, not making any comments about it. Frankly, I had nothing to tell him except that it had been two years, not three, that I had spent looking at the cheerful girl like no one else. But whether it was two or three years, it did sound like an excessively long time, especially considering that I hadn't made any progress, hadn't gotten any closer to her except for the events of the past couple of days. And now, in the very near future, I had a chance to get to know her better, going to her house, even if it was just to do homework.
Emell was right. Maybe it was time to take a risk.
"So you're crawling back," Kazu said, injecting a feigned air of superiority into his words as a joke. Emell and Pier were already in their seats.
I placed my backpack on the chair without sitting down, after all, recess hadn't ended yet.
"We were thinking about talking to the President and her team."
I didn't need to ask for the reason; they explained it to me.
"It's about the Chemistry group project," Emell began.
"Now that Ruri is back with them, we'll propose a change: we'll give them Ruri, and you can come with us," Kazu added.
"Why are you saying it like you're going to exchange prisoners..." I said, without looking at them.
"That way, the four of us will be together, as it should be," Pier added, already perfectly integrated into our small circle of friends, and ignoring my words.
"Well," Kazu said, rising slowly, as if he preferred to stay seated, "shall we go now?"
But I didn't move, and my inclined face, partially hidden, revealed my indecision. Emell and Pier looked at me attentively, waiting for a reaction from me. I slowly and quietly moved my backpack aside and sat down without haste, ready for the next class. Kazu was slightly annoyed by my attitude.
"Maybe later," I just said, thinking that if I postponed the decision-making moment, I would have a better chance of choosing the right option.
But did I have a choice?
This wasn't like a multiple-choice exam where you were given options, and what you chose could be right or wrong, and that's it. In real life, there are consequences, or at least, there are effects of what you choose.
"Don't you want..." Kazu began to ask, but halfway through, he realized what was happening and corrected himself, "Do you want to do the project with them?"
I remained silent because I didn't want to lie to my friends or admit the terrible truth. What I achieved with that was to test Kazu's dwindling patience.
"Ha!" he exclaimed sarcastically and continued, "I see. You're a... a traitor."
I widened my eyes and looked at him seriously. What he had said didn't amuse me.
"He's a traitor," he repeated to Emell and Pier. Pier commented, "Traitor? What an ugly word."
"But he is. And you know what? Traitors must be punished."
Then, inspired by a timely idea, filled with a strange energy, Emell and Pier stood up simultaneously.
"Let's go," Kazu invited me to stand up, accompanying his words with a fitting gesture.
The five or six classmates who had stayed in the classroom turned their attention to the scene. They might have thought a fight was about to take place. I reluctantly stood up. I had a bad feeling about what would happen; I almost assumed they wouldn't just play a simple prank on me.
Kazu extended his arms toward me and grabbed me in a not-so-friendly embrace, making sure I couldn't move my shoulders.
"Hold him!" he ordered.
Emell and Pier obeyed immediately. The latter knelt to bind my legs with his arms. Between Kazu and him, they lifted me off the ground.
"Hey, wait, what are you doing?"
Seeing that my arms could still move, and I was shaking them forcefully, Emell seized them and helped our friends keep me in a horizontal position. That's how they carried me out of the classroom.
"Put me down, what are you doing?" I insisted.
But they ignored me, especially Kazu. I was carried through the corridor, under the astonished gaze of students from all grades, but not a single teacher in sight. Are they never around when you actually need them?
We reached the courtyard, and everyone we passed allowed us to go by, contrary to my wishes.
"You want to be with the President... Let's go with your President..." Kazu muttered.
Then, I managed to spot the cheerful girl and her friends, chatting peacefully by a wall, in the shade. We headed there, and my friends didn't stop until we got close enough to the girls. Immediately afterward, they put me down, leaving me standing in front of Kari. Instinctively, her friends took a step forward to protect her.
Kazu said it right away. He was very blunt. Too blunt.
"We came to bring him to you," he told Kari, referring to me, and ignoring the fierce looks from her royal guard. "He's in love with you."
My reaction was to freeze instantly. As if I had received a punch in the stomach, I suddenly found myself out of breath. I don't know if the cheerful girl was more surprised than I was; her smile faded from her lips, leaving only a faint, barely noticeable curve.
"What are you talking about?" Aira asked rudely, perhaps trying to understand the joke that wasn't a joke.
"Keep him. Accept him; he's yours," Kazu continued, still speaking to Kari, with his hands on my shoulders.
How could this be happening to me? And how could Kazu talk about my feelings so lightly? Well, the answer is obvious: they weren't his feelings. I hadn't even dared to use the words "in love" once, and he had just thrown it out there without any restraint, tarnishing them! To make matters worse, people from all grades had started to gather around us. Some must have followed us from the hallways or the classroom when they saw me being forcibly taken, practically kidnapped.
And even worse, the cheerful girl remained silent.
She just watched us with an unknown expression in her eyes, unmoving, not speaking.
She was also waiting for someone to tell her that it was all a joke —a very poor one, by the way—, but no one said it, and now she was waiting for something. Anything.
"What?!" Hana exclaimed indignantly. "He...?! He likes our President?!"
"Yes, and we brought him to you," Pier replied.
"Now hug him and give him a kiss. Don't reject him; don't break his heart," Kazu said, in a mockingly pleading tone.
"The heart is a fragile organ," Pier observed stupidly.
Everyone—absolutely everyone who witnessed the events—then turned their gaze to the cheerful girl. However, the confusion of the situation had rendered her mute. The surrounding audience was expectant; only isolated murmurs could be heard from them.
Realizing that Kari didn't want to be there, Aira and Hana once again positioned themselves between us, attempting to distance us.
"Well, that's enough, we've all had our laughs."
"Yeah, did you come just for this?"
Ruri, on the other hand, made a pitying face, one of those that wound one’s pride, which she quickly concealed by turning toward the President. Gently taking her by the shoulders, she led her away from me. Kari never once wanted to turn and look at me...
And my friends had to insist a bit more.
"Accept it, accept it!" Kazu told her, gently pushing me towards Kari.
"Poor thing, here he is, pouring his heart out," Pier continued.
"It's going to break..."
He turned to Emell.
"The tape!"
I never knew where the adhesive tape came from, but there it was, in Emell's pocket. He took it and quickly began to wrap my chest with it, while Kazu and Pier held my arms firmly to keep me from moving them.
"His heart broke! We'll fix it with tape!" they exclaimed to those present, while attaching more pieces of tape to my chest.
Dazed, I allowed it to happen, not resisting. I heard the laughter that had started to rise from the student crowd, and I didn't care at all, nor did I react to the struggles of Aira and Hana with my friends and their not-so-happy words. Kari was already safe in a distant corner of the courtyard. She hadn't accepted me, nor had she rejected me. She had been almost indifferent to my feelings, which, on the other hand, I hadn't confessed. I had been as silent as she was, overwhelmed by the situation. Others had confessed on my behalf, ruining what I had dreamed of achieving one day.
A feeling of bitterness was born within me.
And then the bell rang.
At least five or six minutes late.
Too late!
It wasn't easy for me to re-enter the classroom after that incident. If someone in our class hadn't witnessed it, by the time I crossed the entrance, they had found out through the infallible gossip, faster than light.
I tried not to make eye contact with anyone, and though I didn’t want to look at the pair of desks in the front row, I can say that the cheerful girl didn't want to look at me either.
I sat in the seat that had been reserved for me from the first day, next to my friends. The ones who had humiliated me moments ago.
Good thing they were my friends.
In a moment of carelessness, I involuntarily glanced away and saw the three heads of the serpent gossiping animatedly behind the cheerful girl. All three of them shot me fleeting one-eyed glances and spoke at the same time, without pausing, as if each of them didn't need to hear the others. And the cheerful girl didn't move, focused as she should be on her business or the class. For a second, I looked at them, and that was enough for me to see Aira's lips moving as if she were saying the word "loser" while giving me a cold, inhuman, and accusatory look.
By the time lunchtime arrived, I knew I wouldn't be eating anything. I didn't feel like eating, just standing up as soon as the bell rang and going for a long walk around the school grounds. That's what I did; I allowed myself to be independent for a while.
Nevertheless, I wasn't really sad, nor was I furious, but I did want to be alone for a while, far away from my friends and the popular girls. My pride had taken a hit, and my reputation might have been affected in some way, or at least that's what I thought at the time.
Ruri passed me by; when I realized it, she had already left me behind. I was standing by the door of an unfamiliar classroom, leaning against its frame, being careful not to step out into the hallway to avoid being seen.
"Ruri, we know you don't have a group for the Chemistry project," I heard from a relatively short distance. It was Kazu's unmistakable voice.
"Yes, I do have one. It's just that..."
"Yes, we know. Sanke is in your place now."
"We were thinking of doing an exchange: Sanke joins us, and you go back to your friends. But Sanke didn't seem too thrilled with the idea," Emell added.
Ruri paused briefly but significantly before saying,
"He must have his reasons."
"And now we can't find him anywhere to ask him again if he wants to come with us."
"So, what do you think about joining our group this time? We need one more to make it four members."
Ruri took her time to respond.
"Alright," she finally said, without enthusiasm, although she wasn't outright rejecting the proposal, "but I should ask the girls first."
"Great. If they give you permission, come talk to us after class for the details."
After this short dialogue, my friends went their separate ways, and Ruri must have gone to talk to her friends again, passing by me once more as I stood with one foot inside and the other outside that classroom, refusing to peek out into the corridor. Ruri passed by slowly; maybe she knew where I was hiding and glanced at me from the corner of her eye. I have no way of knowing; in any case, it's irrelevant.
The next day, the world and the school seemed to return to normal. Nobody said anything about the episode I had starred in, at least not to my face, and I hardly received condescending, amused, or mocking looks. Perhaps the episode had been exaggerated in my mind, or Kari's indecision had made it less spectacular, less memorable. Maybe people had taken it all as a childish prank by senior students, nothing to be taken seriously.
I turned halfway in bed, facing the wall. The container with yesterday's food, the one of ignominy, had been left in a corner. Days later, when I remembered its existence, I opened it and saw that the food had become moldy, so I had to throw it away.
I continued thinking for a while, but I had already thought too much about the matter. Besides, considering that it was the right thing to do—although I had reasons to believe that I had rushed into my decision—I had finally agreed to the "exchange" my friends wanted so badly and that would make Kari, Ruri, Aira, and Hana (especially the first) feel better. Against all my desires, I had briefly and discreetly told Ruri that I was resigning as a member of the group and leaving my place to her. I had to tell her because I didn't want to talk directly to Kari after what had happened. I would have hated to make her uncomfortable again; it would have been difficult for me to face her knowing that she knew about my feelings.
Yes, she knew it now, but, of all the possible outcomes, she had chosen the worst one for me. If she had rejected me, which had been somewhat expected, it would have been a shame and would have forced me to decide whether to forget about her or to genuinely try to win her over on my own. And if she had accepted me, I would have spent the night ecstatic and not submerged in a solitude that at least temporarily couldn't be indifferent to me. No, she had chosen silence. She hadn't bothered to reject me—something that usually doesn't require more than a few simple words—if what she wanted was for me not to get my hopes up.
Did she not want to hurt me? Or did she not take the revelation of my feelings seriously? Or did she consider my being in love with her a matter of no importance, unworthy of consideration?
I didn't know what to think.
I thought that I didn't know what to think.
The weekend following my failed forced delivery to the cheerful girl, I met up with my friends—not to work on the dreaded Chemistry project but to hang out and play video games. On a Saturday afternoon, we gathered at Kazu's house.
We didn't want to admit it, but the scent of reconciliation hung in the air.
"I won't forgive her for this," I told the three of them, without taking my eyes off the screen. I was engaged in a battle with Kazu using fantasy characters from a famous fighting video game.
"But do you really like the President? Or is it just a feeling?" Pier inquired, who was momentarily a spectator.
"What do you mean by feeling?" Emell asked. I didn't understand the meaning of that word either.
"You have to try again. Confess your feelings. Ask her out."
"Ha! She probably doesn't want to see me again, thanks to you guys," I replied seriously.
"That's not true."
"Vengeance..." I exclaimed solemnly.
The character I was controlling delivered a brutal beating to Kazu's character, avenging my honor, which had been cruelly tarnished.
"How do you do that trick..." Kazu lamented. "And another thing, if Kong Lün is supposedly Chinese, why did he open Steve's chest with a kunai? Isn't that a Japanese weapon?"
"How do you know it's a kunai?"
"Didn't you see it? It's obvious it is. Besides, he had it hidden under his clothes. That's almost cheating..."
"Whatever," I said, stretching my arms and back after sitting in the same position for a while. "It's time for me to go."
"You're not staying a little longer?"
"No, I already said I'd be back before dinner."
"But one day you'll have to teach me those tricks."
"Yeah, they're on a website; I'll tell you which one later."
I left, and it was already dark outside. At that hour, not too late in the evening, I could take the bus and quickly get back home, so that's what I did. At the first corner on my way to the bus stop, I stopped to take a look in the distance, in the direction of the neighborhood where the cheerful girl lived, although I certainly wouldn't be able to see anything interesting. The idea of heading there and exploring the area didn't cross my mind...
I had already done that before meeting up with my friends.
Yes, I had left early to go to Kazu's house by taking a longer route. I didn't know exactly where the cheerful girl lived, but I had a rough idea based on what we had talked about in the chemistry lab days ago when I had been closer to her. However, since I wasn't going to do the project with her and her friends, I at least wanted to satisfy my curiosity about her neighborhood.
Although the cheerful girl's house shouldn't be too far from mine—I estimated about thirty blocks—I didn't remember ever being in that part of the city before.
Crossing a major avenue, the landscape changes in a way that anyone not too distracted would notice. In that part of the city, the sidewalks are wider than usual. The main streets are lined with trees, adding to their charm. The houses are large and typically two stories tall, with two large windows—one on each side of the door—and another two equally spacious ones upstairs, which must offer a perfect view of the street. Maybe the cheerful girl lived in one of those houses, spacious enough for her family, which I assumed at the time consisted only of her and her parents since I had never heard of her having siblings. It occurred to me that if that was the case, then the cheerful girl would have a large room with a view of the street, and at night, she might lean out to contemplate the quiet neighborhood... or perhaps in the afternoons as well. I didn't want to venture too far into that area, not only because I didn't want to arrive late at my friend's house but also because if I happened to bump into the cheerful girl, I would have to come up with an excuse for being there.
What excuse or reason could I offer? It was better to have something prepared just in case. I thought that it was good not to have to lie, and it would be ideal to maintain a spontaneous and natural expression when talking to Kari, in a situation like the one I thought might arise.
For now, I kept walking, lost in these thoughts and many others of lesser importance that kept coming and going in my mind, distracting me and nothing more.
I turned right at a corner.
And suddenly, I collided head-on with someone coming from the opposite direction.
Our heads and torsos bumped into each other. I stumbled and sat down, and the other person fell backward, landing on their back.
I quickly got up and offered a hand to help her up, apologizing sincerely. But the young woman in front of me stood up almost at the same time as I did, and, rubbing her painful forehead with her hand, she rejected my attempt to assist her.
Then, we looked at each other face to face.
"Ah..." I blurted out. I was stupidly stupefied. She was no less surprised than I was.
It was Hana.
Somehow, I noticed at that precise moment that she had dropped her cellphone. I picked it up and asked her if it was hers. On the still lit screen, I saw the map of the neighborhood.
"Yes, thanks," she replied, glancing at the device and confirming that it had luckily suffered no damage.
We fell silent for a moment.
"Sorry, I didn't see where I was going," Hana said, with an unusual shyness in her voice.
"No, it's my fault, I wasn't paying attention either," I hurried to say. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, thanks," Hana replied, but she delicately ran her hand across her forehead again. I didn't get to see if it had caused a bruise.
We both fell into an awkward silence for a couple of seconds, avoiding each other's gaze.
Finally, I nodded slightly and began to move. I continued down the street she had been walking. However, after taking a couple of steps, I heard Hana's voice.
"Um..."
I turned around reflexively, more than expecting her to want to get my attention. I returned to her side.
"Is something wrong?"
"Oh... Sorry, I'm so silly, I don't think I understand the map," she said nervously.
She showed me her cellphone.
"Do you know where R* Street is?" she added. "I know it's nearby..."
I regretted not being able to help her. As I said, it was probably my first time in that part of the city, and I hadn't been paying attention to the street names. Nevertheless, I looked at the map for that particular street. At that moment, I heard a vehicle passing rapidly by us. And just as I was about to tell Hana where (I thought) she needed to go, I was distracted by the sound of a vehicle braking somewhat abruptly.
A beautiful girl dressed elegantly got out of a luxurious black car. I soon recognized her as well: it was Aira. She called out to her friend while making exaggerated gestures.
"Hana! I'm over here!"
"Ah, there she is," Hana said in a sigh and immediately started walking away. However, she took a moment to turn around and tell me, with a faint and sincere smile on her face:
"Thanks."
I also set off to avoid watching the friends reunite and seeing Aira ask Hana what she was doing with me, which I wasn't interested in and probably wouldn't have been fun to witness.
What was striking and interesting was the humanity I had seen break through Hana's usual demeanor.
To avoid wasting any more time, I decided to retrace my steps and head straight to Kazu's house. I would have to make a more thorough visit to the cheerful girl's neighborhood another time.
Chapter 4
I was wrong to think that the incident of the forced confession to Kari (how difficult it is to find a name for what they did to me) would have lasting consequences on my reputation. In reality, those who didn't know me—which were practically students from all the other classes in the school—quickly forgot what had happened. This was partly because I wasn't very well-known at the school, let alone popular.
However, I felt that the incident had pushed the cheerful girl even further away from me. As if there hadn't already been a great emotional distance between us. Perhaps, analyzing it objectively, after all this time, it hadn't been like that, and that's why I say I felt the cheerful girl had become more unattainable for me.
Maybe it was an exaggeration of my mind that the cheerful girl, during the weeks following the incident, had avoided being close to me, looking at me, talking to me, or had minimized the opportunities (or the risk?) of doing such things.
In such a situation, I could have resigned myself and started thinking that maybe it didn't make sense to try to get closer to her.
But then, I heard a rumor.
The reconstruction of the events is as follows:
One of our classmates from the back of the classroom, probably Miche—the guy whose hair covered almost his entire eyes, which didn't seem to bother him—wrote a message on a piece of paper, folded it, and gave instructions for it to reach Kari's friends. However, the document was intercepted in the middle of its journey by a student who, ignorant of the secret nature of the message and mistakenly believing it was intended for him, read its content. When he realized he wasn't the intended recipient of the message, he turned around, where several classmates explained to him with gestures and whispered insults that the paper needed to travel to the front rows.
That clueless student, who happened to be my friend Kazu, revealed the message to me. It said that a student from class 3-C was interested in Kari and asked her friends if it would be "acceptable" (that was the word the young man used, according to Kazu) to ask her out.
We were on break when Kazu recounted the incident to me, which I hadn't noticed when it happened because I was paying attention in class, something that usually happens when you attend school. I heard his words without taking my eyes off the courtyard from behind one of the first-floor windows, entertaining my eyes with the coming and going of students. Internally, my reaction was one of hopelessness, and I considered that the guy—whoever he was—had a chance with the cheerful girl, even though I didn't know what her friends had replied or if they had even replied at all. Meanwhile, I scanned the crowd from above for the heads of Aira, Hana, and Ruri, but they didn't appear; I couldn't distinguish them from all those people moving around animatedly, like ants, only without a defined purpose.
"It was to be expected. How did I not see this coming?" I asked myself. "It's definitely impossible that only I have noticed the cheerful girl. It would be very naive of me to believe that no one else has noticed her, that no one else would want her too, that they aren't dazzled by her personality, blinded by her radiant aura..."
"I think I know who it is," Pier announced, joining us. His words, spoken aloud, were indiscreet. I wanted to turn around and tell him to be quiet, but such a reaction would have made the scene even more visible and would have exposed me as someone interested. I chose to remain silent and unfazed.
"Well? Who is it?" Kazu inquired.
"I don't know his name, but he's from class 3-C. He's a tall guy who combs his hair back."
"I think I've seen someone like that," Kazu thought out loud.
Then he turned to me.
"The good thing is, if the President says no, then she'll be all yours."
"But what if she says yes?" Pier asked.
"In that case, to make sure it doesn't happen, you should confess before he does," Kazu replied, still looking at me.
"I see, like scoring a last-minute goal in a game," Pier said.
"Something like that."
"Shut up," I told them, still motionless. "Just shut up."
With nothing more to do in their uncomfortable company, Kazu and Pier left. Emell followed them after patting me on the shoulder and saying:
"Don't worry."
As soon as I assumed my friends had already gone down the stairs to the ground floor, I began walking in the opposite direction. I was also going downstairs, but using the other staircase. I started having thoughts about the situation when suddenly, I spotted Aira walking alongside a tall, dark-haired guy with his hair combed back. There were students between them and me, so I couldn't focus on Aira and the mysterious guy, nor could I follow them with my gaze. Having stopped in my tracks, I watched them seriously from a distance for a moment. I watched them walk without haste, conversing amiably. Aira didn't look irritated or bothered, as she did when she had to talk to me.
That was because Aira didn't know me, because apparently, she held some prejudice against me for some reason, because she hadn't bothered to treat me fairly, impartially.
With these considerations, my situation sounded unfair. It was very easy for me to think that way; it was very easy for me to be wrong.
Several days passed without news of the guy who apparently wanted to ask the cheerful girl out. During that time, I was more or less focused on strictly academic topics, and at one point, I concluded that the cheerful girl and that student weren't dating, either because she had rejected him or because her friends hadn't approved him as a candidate to begin with. My involuntary informant, Kazu, hadn't found out (or hadn't cared to find out). Anyway, at least for the moment, it seemed to me that the cheerful girl was still "available."
And I didn't want to go through the unpleasant feelings I had experienced before.
I recognized that maybe it was time to confess or at least try to get closer to the cheerful girl. All my friends told me this a few times when the topic came up in our conversations, and deep down, I was about to admit that they were right.
But I also carried an ingrained insecurity about myself as deep as it was unbearable, and pessimism about my chances with the cheerful girl, and the fear of opening my heart only to end up being ridiculed. I didn't know how I would react if the cheerful girl rejected me...
And in the end, when I thought about it, I never managed to gather enough courage to confess my feelings, and as a result, nothing happened; I didn't find out if she liked me or not. And that's how the days passed, one after another, inevitably accumulating. Over time, however, remaining in that kind of emotional limbo slowly drove me to desperation. Every time I saw the cheerful girl pass by in front of my eyes or on the side, I felt like "half-dying," as the song goes. My heart was a pressure cooker, and my feelings were the slow-burning fire that heated it. It was necessary to release that internal pressure—that tension—once and for all.
I leaned my head back and wondered how I should do it. "How does one manage to be alone with the cheerful girl when she's always accompanied by her friends or busy with some activity? She arrives at the same time as her friends, spends the day with them—sits with them, walks with them during breaks—and leaves with them. Perhaps if I join some extracurricular activity, like the tutoring sessions before exams..."
I had already attended two of those classes the previous year. Kari and other top students in the class acted as tutors, preparing students—especially the less fortunate—before important exams. I had gone not so much to review concepts but to see the cheerful girl, even though the price to pay was getting up early and going to school on a Saturday. No, those things were insignificant compared to spending some time in the same physical space as the cheerful girl. But they reserved her like one reserves a table at a restaurant—a table I seemed to have no permission to occupy—they assigned me another tutor, and I ended up getting bored, especially because the tutoring wasn't essential for me.
I wasn't such a brilliant student to be a tutor either.
"Maybe I should join that volunteer group she's in?"
It was common knowledge that once or twice a month, Kari performed tasks like accompanying the elderly or visiting patients in a hospital. It was one of the many things we admired her for and were devoted to her.
But finally, the idea to change my situation came to me in a Physical Education class.
At the beginning of the class, the teacher called all of us to make an announcement that was made to all classes every year.
"Before we start, we will hold the classification trials for the inter-school athletics tournament."
And, showing a bundle of papers he had under his arm, he added:
"I'll write down the names of everyone who wants to participate this year, so come closer, and I'll write your names on the list. When I call you... No, better form a line..."
But what he had in mind turned out to be too complicated to put into practice, and he soon gave up.
"Do you know what? You can have the forms and fill them out yourselves."
He handed the papers to the student closest to him. Then, he went to take a seat on the side.
"What about those of us who don't want to go?" someone asked.
"Can we play ball now?"
"Don't even think about it," the teacher replied shamelessly, already reclining in the chair he always brought to the gym to spend the class sitting in it, with his arms crossed behind his head, and without even looking at the one who had asked the last question. "Those who won't participate in the trial should start jogging, let's go. When you finish filling out the list, bring it."
The forms were already circulating quickly. There wasn't much interest among the students in attending the tournament, so several of my classmates passed the sheets to someone else without writing their names, or even refused to take the sheets. One of those who did the latter was Kazu.
"Don't give me that. I'll never go."
Emell took the forms and, without even bothering to look at them, passed them to me, who was sitting on the floor next to him. And I, contrary to my friends, received the sheets and glanced at them. Each sheet had a different discipline: high jump, long jump, one hundred, four hundred, and sixteen hundred-meter races...
I quickly wrote my name on all the sheets to maximize my chances of qualifying in one of the disciplines and being able to participate in the tournament. My friends looked at me strangely. I had never tried to enter the athletics tournament before, and now I showed excessive interest, beyond all logic... or maybe not so much.
It was because I assumed that the cheerful girl would surely participate in the same tournament, as she had in the previous two years. In her first year at school, she had even won a bronze medal—the only one from the school in the entire competition—and in honor of this achievement, they had put a picture of her with the medal around her neck in the trophy case in the lobby, and a copy on the general announcements bulletin board, also in the school's lobby, for all of us to see.
"Good luck, I suppose," Emell said, getting up.
"Same here. We're going to play ball," Kazu added, and went to ask the teacher for the ball, ignoring the order to warm up their muscles with a jog, as was customary.
"Alright, let's start with the fastest," the teacher told those of us who were going to participate in the trials, after giving the rest of the class the football. "Come the ones who are going to run the one hundred meters."
Five students and I followed the teacher to the track; the first ones stood behind the starting line while the teacher, stopwatch in hand, waited on one side of the finish line. At the whistle signal, one of us ran to the finish line, and the teacher recorded the time. As I understood it, we had to surpass a certain time to qualify for the tournament.
When it was my turn, I ran with all my might, as fast as I could. Once we had all run, the teacher announced who had qualified. Two students had managed it, but I was not one of them...
"Don't worry, Sanke," I told myself inside. "You have other opportunities. You just have to keep trying."
The next trial was the four hundred meters. The selection process was the same as for the one hundred meters: in turn, each student on the list ran, and the teacher recorded their time and then determined who had achieved a satisfactory mark.
The teacher announced the qualifiers, and once again, he did not say my name. Next, he took another sheet and read the names. Then, he gave me a meaningful look.
"Alright, now those who are going to run the sixteen hundred meters, come closer."
There were three of us students. Being so few, the teacher told us to do the trial together.
When I approached the starting line, the teacher asked me, as he passed the forms in front of his eyes:
"Jina, do you plan to participate in all the trials?"
"... It depends," was all I could say.
I only needed to qualify for one event; that would be enough for me.
"Alright. But take a break after this trial."
And he turned his face, dripping with condescension that I found unpleasant, to bring the whistle to his mouth and tell us to be ready to start.
I flexed my legs one last time and got into position.
Some say "don't push yourself too hard," but for me, it had to be the opposite. "Push yourself too hard," or "give it your all."
"Not to the point of breaking a leg, but definitely push hard," I told myself.
Because I was having these kinds of thoughts, the teacher's whistle caught me a little off guard. My classmates started running, and I reacted with a fraction of a second's delay. They weren't running as fast as I was, so I soon left them behind. For a moment, I thought I would win the race comfortably and qualify for the inter-school tournament easily. But then my legs started feeling the strain, not just from the speed, which now seemed excessive, but from the effort I had been putting them through without giving them proper rest between events. I hadn't even completed the first of the four laps around the track.
I realized I had to manage my energy wisely because my body apparently couldn't handle the effort I was making—it wasn't used to it. And, not knowing what the right running speed was, I simply followed the pace of my classmates, who had already passed me by a couple of meters, although I was struggling to maintain that distance. As long as I didn't lose them, I thought everything would be fine.
We reached the starting line, where the teacher nodded approvingly.
"One lap out of four... It's twenty-five percent... I can still do this," I thought. But sooner than later, I started to run out of breath. I was panting, and I could feel the muscles in my legs stiffening. This wasn't good, but I had to keep going.
Halfway through the lap, I noticed that my classmates had pulled further ahead, and I was losing speed. I made one last effort and quickened my pace, but I soon got tired again and had to slow down a bit. And so, alternating between moments of acceleration and deceleration, I completed the second lap.
Staring at the stopwatch as we passed by, the teacher exclaimed:
"Keep it up, don't slow down!"
Those words weighed on my shoulders like a burden. I was struggling to maintain the pace, and I couldn't afford to go any slower. But all I could do was keep running.
"Fifty percent of the course... I'm halfway there," I thought.
I ran with my eyes closed or half-closed, my face creased with fatigue or perhaps exhaustion. A dull ache had begun to pulse on the right side of my abdomen.
Then, a voice resonated in my mind.
"Go!"
I snapped my eyes open, surprised, and looked around. There was no one nearby; one of my companions was already ten meters ahead, while the other had a lead even greater, so I wondered who could have uttered that exclamation.
A voice that seemed familiar to me.
I closed my eyes again, but the expression on my face had softened, and the tension in my facial muscles had loosened, even disappeared. I felt the wind split open on my face and pass by on both sides; the air smelled of spring, and suddenly my body felt somewhat lighter—perhaps someone had lifted the heavy burden of the teacher's words off my shoulders.
"It's just one more effort... Are you going to waste this opportunity, considering how hard we've worked? Do you expect to enter the tournament by doing high jumps?" it told me.
I had never practiced high jumping before, so I couldn't be very optimistic about executing the jump technique correctly, let alone qualifying for the tournament.
"Go, Sanke!" that voice repeated.
I took a deep breath and completed the curve before finishing the third lap. Instead of the teacher with a stopwatch in hand by the starting line, I saw the cheerful girl. As I passed by her side, trying to keep a serious face so she wouldn't notice that I was struggling, she jumped up, extending her limbs like a cheerleader, kicked the air playfully, and exclaimed:
"A little faster, Sanke! You can do it!"
I closed my eyes tightly, searching for some extra strength within me.
"Yes, Sanke! Let's go!"
I increased my speed, determined to win the race. The feeling of exhaustion and the desire to finish the test disappeared in an instant. Like a predator stalking its prey, I closed in on my competitors without them noticing, and then I surprised them by overtaking them quickly. It was in the final curve that I took the lead, and as I entered the home stretch, I ran at maximum speed, imitating the runners I occasionally saw on television; I could hardly feel my feet hitting the ground anymore, as if they had gone numb and lost sensitivity, and my legs were stiffer than before. My classmates did the same, but they couldn't catch up to me, and I won the race.
A cheerful girl inside my head had been encouraging me all along, which is why I was able to make such an effort.
I don't believe that magic really exists, but what happened to me was quite magical.
I could only take two or three steps after crossing the finish line, as my legs had stiffened completely. Sitting on the ground, stretching the beams I had for legs, I saw the teacher's feet come next to me.
"Well done, Jina. You'll go to the tournament this year," he said.
I only had enough energy to raise my head slightly and nod, panting and clutching my knees, and I saw an expression of satisfaction on his face.
"Now, take a break... Or would you prefer to participate in the next events?"
I responded with an exhausted gesture that I wouldn't be participating.
"High jump, long jump, relay race...?" the teacher persisted, flipping through the sheets. "None?"
I shook my head and got up with some difficulty. My knees and groin were sore, and I had started to feel twinges on my right side.
But I wasn't complaining. I had achieved my goal.
Next, with little strength left, I dragged myself to the side of the field where the rest of the students were playing soccer. I sat on the ground in a spot where I could lean against the wall, and from there, I let my eyes follow the ball as if hypnotized. The ball traveled from one side to the other, and I thought about how thirsty I was.
"Poor thing! You look terrible," Emell said, seeing my pitiful condition. He had zero athletic abilities and preferred to spend the class away from the others, moving only to dodge a stray soccer ball or go to the bathroom. To this day, I don't remember ever seeing him run.
"Why did you go and tire yourself out on the track?" he added.
I was taking my time to respond when Kazu and Pier arrived.
"So, how did it go?" Emell asked.
"We lost," Kazu replied, then turned to me. "We need you on the team. What were you doing?" he asked in a complaining tone.
"It sounds nice, but I prefer to stay here. I don't have to run around like I'm being chased by a guy with an axe," I said.
I laughed as much as my exhaustion allowed; every movement of my body, no matter how small, caused an annoying tension in my muscles.
From the moment I found out I was going to the tournament, and as the excitement of the achievement wore off, my head began to savor the idea of coming home and going to sleep. Rest was the only reward I wanted to enjoy for the moment, and I had certainly earned it.
Just opening the door to my room filled me with immense joy. My tired body suddenly had energy again, at least enough to happily dive into bed.
I slept a lot and very well; when I opened my eyes, it was twilight. A small child standing in front of the desk was rummaging through the contents of the drawers.
"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked, trying not to raise my voice too much so as not to startle the child.
He looked at me for a second and then, ignoring my question, continued his unauthorized inspection. I raised my back to sit up before getting up, and the child scurried away quickly and quietly, like a little mouse.
I went to the living room and found my mother sitting at the table with my aunt Laina and my cousin Kire. In the middle of the table, there were a white teapot and three cups that filled the room with the intense aroma of coffee. My cousin, whom I now recognized thanks to the better lighting, was half-hidden under the table.
"Oh, look who's here," my aunt said. "Oh, you've grown so much!" Then she turned to my mother. "He looks just like his father."
"Do you want some coffee?"
"I'm good."
"Come give your aunt a hug," Laina said as she got up from her chair.
She's one of those overly affectionate aunts who seem to want to embarrass you at every moment—always in public.
Aunt Laina enveloped me in her arms and kissed my cheeks warmly, wrapping me in the scent of face powder and mature woman's perfume, and only then did she let me go.
"I'd like you to come visit us someday," she added.
I took a seat between my cousin and my mom after pouring myself a glass of water. It was what I needed to wash away the lethargy from my body and mind.
"So, she didn't go to school today, you were telling me?" my mother asked Aunt Laina, referring to Kire. Apparently, that was the topic of conversation that my arrival had interrupted.
"She said she felt very sick. But look at her now; she's perfectly fine. There's nothing wrong with her."
Indeed, there was no sign of illness in Kire's appearance, who had also indulged in coffee and the pastries for the snack.
"Did you really feel sick, or did you just not want to go to school?" my mom asked her.
Kire lowered her head as if receiving a reprimand.
"I felt sick," she muttered.
"I hope that's the case," Aunt Laina said, not without some severity, "and not that you're thinking of dropping out of school."
"She's growing up, and she's already a young lady; it's normal for her to have aches and pains."
Kire blushed and hid her face behind the cup.
"You have many more days like this ahead of you," my mother declared, "but you won't always be able to stay in bed."
Poor Kire was dying of embarrassment, but I was also uncomfortable having to listen to a women’s conversation, so I finished what was left of the water in my glass and got up as if I had something to do. As I passed my aunt, she captured my hand and held it in hers.
"Are you leaving already, Sanke? I was hoping you'd bring a girlfriend to introduce to me today. But you were in your room, sleeping or doing who knows what..."
An intense and unpleasant feeling, a mix of shame and humiliation, pierced me for a second.
"I was resting, Aunt. I had the track and field trials today," I replied, managing to maintain my composure.
"And did you do well? Oh, how wonderful! So, you're an athlete... That impresses the girls, you know?"
I looked at Aunt Laina closely, wondering if she really meant it. Could sacrificing myself in Physical Education have been the right decision after all? On the other hand, Kire had lost her blush and was already savoring another sweet pastry.
"If you have time, could you buy groceries for dinner?"
My mother had just given me the excuse to avoid more comments from Aunt Laina.
"Of course. I think I'll go now."
"Do you want to go too? Why don't you accompany your cousin?" my aunt asked Kire.
"Okay," she replied, getting up.
"You two look so cute together. Go on, spend some time together, like good cousins!"
Kire and I felt relieved once we were outside the house, knowing we were safe from Aunt Laina's comments, at least for a while.
"There's a supermarket over there," I said, pointing with my thumb in a friendly gesture, "where we can buy everything we need."
We set off. At first, we walked in silence: I had Aunt Laina's words swirling in my head, and I also didn't know what to say to engage in conversation with my cousin. However, as we reached the corner, I happened to notice a strange expression on Kire's face.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah... It's just that... I didn't really feel sick today."
It took me a moment to understand what she meant.
"You didn't want to go to school?"
"Yes, I think I wanted to go today, but something happened at school, and I stayed home. A girl in my class... I think she disappeared."
Now her face was shadowed and extremely serious.
"And you didn't tell your mom?"
"No. I don't really know if she disappeared, but you know what? I had the feeling all day that she did."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because... That girl is a classmate who never talks to anyone, or almost never. We don't know anything about her. This year, I wanted to get closer to her because I feel sorry for her always being alone, and she seems like a good person. But she always makes excuses... And last week, she unexpectedly came to talk to me during recess. She took me to a deserted place and told me that her grandfather had disappeared, and that she was going to look for him. In the days before, she had been acting strange, like sad or very worried. I had noticed, but I was afraid to talk to her; I didn't want to intrude in her affairs... Her grandfather, as she told me, suddenly became depressed, and one day, she came back from school and couldn't find him anymore."
"Shouldn't she have reported it to the police?"
"I thought the same and suggested it to her, but she refused without explaining why. She wanted to go look for him herself... But what worried me was how she told me. She said everything with a tone of farewell, as if she were going to disappear too."
"That's terrible. But maybe he'll come back soon. I don't understand why she would go alone to look for her grandfather; it would be better to ask for help from the police, a family member, or neighbors..."
"It's as if there's something very wrong with that matter. That's the feeling I have."
"And that's why you didn't want to go to school?"
"Yes. I don't know how to explain it; it's a horrible feeling that I can't shake when I remember it."
"And you haven't told anyone."
"No, because she asked me not to."
We fell silent and still, looking into each other's eyes for a moment. She had just admitted that she had broken her promise.
"Do you know where that girl lives? Maybe you could visit her."
Kire shook her head.
"Well, I hope everything works out well, and that nothing bad has happened to your classmate and her grandfather. I still think you should inform the police," I said, trying to reassure Kire.
"The teachers might notice if she doesn't show up in a couple of days."
"Yes, but we shouldn't alert them when it's too late."
It seemed like the right time to lighten the mood.
"So, what can we have for dinner tonight? What do you like to eat?"
Kire smiled and resumed walking while taking a moment to think about her answer.
At the supermarket, on the way back home, and during dinner with the whole family, we didn't mention that topic again. I didn't want to press cousin Kire by delving into that "feeling" she had insisted on, and I was convinced that what she had told me was all she knew. The night ended peacefully for me; after dinner, Aunt Laina and my cousins left, and I went straight to bed. I didn't give much space for reflection about that mysterious and dark matter, but I did believe I understood Kire—or at least I tried to—when she suspected that something very terrible was lurking behind it; something that must have been difficult to imagine or conceive, but whose seed had been planted and from which she intended to germinate a malevolent shadow.
Some time later, I would remember our brief conversation, and not exactly as something curious.
Chapter 5
Since I was going to participate in the inter-school athletics tournament, the teacher recommended that I train during the three weeks leading up to the event. At first, I followed his advice: I stayed after school to run on the school track. There was a beauty in the splendid orange of the sunset that tinted everything and in the freshness of the autumn air that surrounded me, but, on the other hand, when the bell rang, I usually just wanted to go back home. So, my discipline dwindled after a few days.
A couple of times during that period, I went to play ball with my friends, and deep down, I considered it part of the training I needed. Also, taking advantage of the fact that there were no exams on the horizon, we met up quite frequently after school.
I'm not proud to recount these things, but that's what happened.
Later, several days before the tournament, I went to Kazu's house to spend the afternoon. Pier was also there; however, Emell had a commitment and couldn't attend. As usual among us, we spent our time playing video games and talking about whatever, as long as it was something trivial.
Or almost always.
"Look, that's Sanke running," Kazu joked, referring to a character on the screen.
"Do you no longer stay after school to run?" Pier asked me.
"I'll have to do it these days."
"However, isn't all that effort just to be with the President too much?" Kazu inquired, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"What? I don't do it for her."
"You're lying!" Kazu exclaimed.
"Is it so hard to talk to her directly? We're really telling you," Pier added.
"If confessing is so embarrassing for you, why don't you write her a letter then?"
"That's a girl thing," Pier remarked.
"Well, then write her a note. Or send her a message."
"Ha, ha! 'Dear President: I hereby notify you that I've fallen in love with you.'"
"Will you guys be quiet?" I exclaimed.
The image of the letter I had written to her a while back flashed briefly in my mind—the letter I kept between the pages of an old book in a secret corner of my room.
"And it's not embarrassment; it's just, haven't you noticed? She's always with her friends."
"Ah, so that's the problem? Easy solution: we distract her friends so that you can be alone with her, what do you think?" Pier suggested.
"Don't help me, please, I've already had enough of your 'help,'" I said, clearly alluding to the incident of the confession made on my behalf.
"Again with that... Are you still mad at us? We were giving you a hand," Kazu said.
"I'm not mad, I told you. But you went too far. And that's enough talking about that, it's my business."
I couldn't help but miss Emell's moderation, which would have balanced out Pier and Kazu's persistent comments.
"Alright, but I still think it's too much effort."
"Just write her a note. It's simpler."
That was the last time we had a discussion about my romantic situation. That had been my intention.
When it got dark, I decided it was time to head back home. My plan was to go to bed early to rest properly and, the next day, to at least take a couple of laps on the athletics track, so that no one could say I wasn't training.
I left Kazu's house and started walking without haste. It wouldn't be a short walk, and it was better to go slowly to avoid getting tired. You see, on that occasion, I had decided to take a long route back.
One that led me through the neighborhood where the cheerful girl lived.
Being nighttime, I considered there was less risk of running into any of her friends. And well into the night, I set off.
The sky was blue and peaceful. The light was provided by the tall street lamps and, above all, by the full moon, firm, large, and bright, gazing down at me from above the rooftops. Traffic lights were scattered along the avenue like colorful dots splashing the darkness of the night without drawing too much attention. A few pedestrians could be seen, heading back to their respective homes with their heads down.
Aside from the few people walking on the street, an occasional vehicle passed by, and in the distance, I could hear the train passing—the train that took many students to school every morning and took them back home in the evenings. There weren't many more signs of life unfolding before me than that. The contrast with the characteristic rush hour hustle and bustle was absolute and total.
It seemed later than it actually was.
It was truly a beautiful night, peaceful, pleasant.
Trying to look innocent, I walked the nearly deserted streets. And although I didn't notice it then, as I ventured deeper into the neighborhood where the cheerful girl lived, I encountered fewer people and fewer cars, and I no longer heard the train passing.
It would have been impossible for me to recognize the streets I had walked earlier. The only thing that assured me I was getting close to my secret destination was the feeling of familiarity that the large houses and wide, some tree-lined sidewalks generated.
Somewhere, my mind suddenly stopped. Few houses were lit, which struck me as somewhat strange, but behind some window or curtains, the cheerful girl could be there. And if she saw me lurking around the neighborhood, walking down her street, looking suspiciously or furtively in all directions, what would she think? And furthermore, if she recognized me, what would she think of me?
Somewhat uncomfortable with the products of my restless mind, I veered off course at the first corner I reached. I scanned the street name as I walked, but there was no sign indicating it. I walked one, two, three blocks, and nowhere did the name appear. I was about to change direction when I noticed someone behind me. Glancing back briefly, I saw him: a seemingly young man, dressed in a shirt and trousers like an office worker, but unkempt, with a generally disheveled appearance. The shadows that covered his face and his lackluster movements exuded concern, or was it just indifference and apathy towards life? He didn't look particularly threatening, but neither harmless. Perhaps the absence of people around and the negative aura emanating from the man unsettled me. Consequently, I decided to turn right at the next corner. I was going to circle the block; keep covering ground. The man continued straight ahead on the unnamed street, as I could see from the corner of my eye. I turned left at the next corner to continue along the street parallel to the unnamed one. Halfway down the block, I encountered the end of an alley perpendicular to the nameless street, dividing the block in two. The alley was narrow and dimly lit by the faint glow of a couple of old lampposts. Bulky objects hid in the shadows, their square-shaped protrusions giving them a haunting appearance. There was no way I was going in there, and I'm glad I didn't. So, I continued on my way, and upon reaching the next corner, I turned left again. The air grew dense with palpable uncertainty; I no longer paid attention to the facades of the buildings, and the illusion of finding the cheerful girl under a cone of whitish light had vanished without a trace.
Behind me, the moon was glowing, and it cast a shadow in front of me that I couldn't avoid stepping on.
As I reached the corner of Street C* with that nameless street, I was instantly enveloped in a slightly dense and completely atypical fog. Through it, the already blackened silhouettes of the city blurred, lost their sharpness, and merged with one another, creating an amorphous urban tangle. I made a complete turn and noticed that there was no fog in one direction only. It was precisely in the direction of the street with no name, from which I had veered away when I saw that mysterious man walking behind me. And indeed, thanks to the absence of fog, I saw the same man moving slowly toward me. His appearance had not changed in the slightest: he was still lost in thought, immersed in who knows what kind of thoughts, paying no attention to his surroundings...
Until he passed by the other end of the alley, the one that opened onto the street with no name.
A figure emerged behind him and followed him. I could barely make it out because the man was standing between that figure and me, eclipsing it.
Despite appearing so absorbed in his world, the man soon realized there was someone behind him.
He turned around, and immediately jumped back in terror, stumbling, almost falling.
Then I distinguished a female figure, apparently a young woman, wrapped in a simple but elegant short dress of the purest white; it was she who was following the stranger. With her facing him, she took a swat at him, which he narrowly avoided as her hand sliced through the air. Visibly terrified, the man tried to run, but the woman grabbed his arm, preventing his escape. The man writhed violently, trying to free himself from the girl who, despite her slender and somewhat fragile appearance, held onto him with impressive strength and wouldn't let go. The man desperately threw punches with his free hand and knees. She released him without flinching or showing any signs of pain. Quickly, the man attempted to run in my direction again.
His gaze found me standing on the corner, motionless.
His eyes were wide, and his lips trembled uncontrollably.
His face contorted.
He opened his mouth to scream at me.
"...!"
And a knife slicing into his throat drowned out his cry for help.
As soon as the knife was withdrawn, the man fell to the ground like a bag of bones, hitting the huge sidewalk tiles with a dry thud. Without wasting any time, the girl knelt in front of the corpse, opened his chest with the knife, and broke his ribs with bare hands. The sound of his bones amid the silence of the night sent a shiver down my spine. Those delicate, white hands ripped the heart out of the body, and then the lady sank her teeth into it. With each bite, the poor man’s blood could be heard clearly splattering.
I wasn't breathing anymore; I was drenched in cold sweat, and my stomach was twisted into a knot or two or hundreds.
Mid-meal, the young woman noticed a presence.
She suddenly looked at me; in her half-lit face, the stains of someone else's blood took on a violet or indigo hue, just like on her dress and arms.
Her fiery eyes went out instantly, and in less than a second, she ran to hide in the darkness of the alley, like a rat suddenly exposed to light.
Incredibly swift, her movements had an unsettling grace. In her escape, a silver medal that she happened to be wearing danced in the air in front of her chest, and a strange symbol gleamed in the moonlight.
I timidly exhaled a bit of air, as if relearning how to do so.
I managed to move with trembling legs. I began to distance myself from there.
A larger and less human silhouette than the young woman's emerged from the alley and slowly moved toward me. It had a pair of giant red eyes, and it didn't take them off me.
The silhouette grabbed the corpse by the legs and dragged it toward the alley. It was the last thing I saw before finally reacting, turning around, and running to safety.
I ran with all my might, like never before in my life. I could have won the inter-school athletics tournament.
I turned a corner at random and leaned against the wall of a building. I breathed heavily, but I breathed. My whole body shook from tremors. My heart, unable to beat any faster, throbbed within my chest. Something like nausea welled up in my stomach, but there was nothing left to empty. Dazed, disturbed, I let myself fall and lay on the sidewalk for a few minutes.
I thought I was going to die of fear.
Chapter 6
Days passed after the horrifying incident, then weeks, and finally, months. And the relentless march of time on the clock's hands, on the pages of the calendar, and in the passage of the sun and the moon across the sky soon pushed the memories of the anguish I had suffered to the back of my mind.
I had been distressed, but a man—a fellow human being—had died.
I told my parents about what had happened, omitting the chilling details and anything that might make me seem like anything less than a stalker, so to speak. In the end, what I told them was that a man had been attacked and murdered on the street...
"Maybe he was involved in some kind of trouble..." my mother speculated.
"Some places are dangerous at night," my father pronounced.
Neither on television nor in the newspapers was there any mention of the death of a middle-aged man in our city, nor was his disappearance even acknowledged. I reasoned that the man must have been a loner, without family or friends, and no one had noticed his absence, or perhaps there was no one who cared enough to claim his body. And his absence at work would likely go unnoticed if the unfortunate man was either unemployed or his job didn't care if he died. There are companies like that.
The bellow of desperation, the sound of his ribs being cracked open, the gushing of his blood, and the sound it made when it collided with the floor quickly receded, fading from my bodily memory, just like the shivers, violent tremors, shortness of breath followed by nervous agitation, the twisting of my innocent insides, and the deluge of cold sweat that had drenched me.
But what I could not and would not forget was what my eyes had seen.
The girl's white dress, gleaming like a second moon, which was soon covered in stains, seas, of a blue-red.
Her graceful and feminine movements, akin to a dancer, yet precise, lethal, ruthless, merciless.
The dress and the girl's hair billowing with every movement, an incongruous freshness in stark contrast to the gruesome scene, orchestrating that horrifying scene.
Cheeks painted silver, a tacit smile with cold, motionless lips, before her mouth and hands were stained with the precious vital fluid, completing an abhorrent act of cannibalism.
Blood flowing in a torrent, staining the skin that looked like the finest porcelain, beautiful yet demonic.
Eyes aflame like torches, like fires suddenly extinguished, as if they had been rained upon, perhaps acquiring a more human aspect but also devoid of soul, expressionless, dead. Like the man lying in the middle of the sidewalk.
And at the end of that chain of horrifying and disturbing visions, a mysterious and unknown symbol, gleaming in the darkness of the night, begging to be seen by me.
My eyes were wide open. The light had been off for quite some time—not only in my room but throughout the neighborhood and the house. My head rested heavily on the pillow, and my body had already settled comfortably between the mattress and the blanket. So why couldn't I fall asleep, when it was so late at night?
The answer to that question was quite simple: because my mind refused to be silent, because it was hyperactive at a time when the neighborhood, the suburb, and the house with the green gate fell into a deep slumber. In just a few hours, as the sun would ascend once more into the sky, I would be competing in the athletics tournament. As I mentioned before, I hadn't gone through the trials and qualified for the competition out of a love for sports, but rather to create an opportunity to talk to the cheerful girl and perhaps confess my feelings once and for all, although deep down, I admitted that I couldn't be too optimistic about the response I would receive. Furthermore, even though I had qualified more than two weeks ago, I hadn't planned or imagined how I could have any kind of conversation with the cheerful girl without her friends being present. During that time, I hadn't really thought about it, and moreover, in light of the whole story, my decision had seemed impulsive, taken hastily. But that's how things had unfolded, and now I lay there with my eyes wide open in the darkness, completely unsettled. My mind was showing me a variety of scenarios for the next day: being the fastest and winning the race by a wide margin, which would reveal me as an unexpectedly talented runner, thanks to the use of a power I didn't even know I had, one I would discover at the most critical moment—like in television series—or battling neck and neck for first place and winning by a hair, or losing by that same hair to complete a more than dignified performance—dare I say impressive, considering the school's prize history. And nothing worse than that, because fantasies can be excessively optimistic or pessimistic, depending on one's mentality, but never realistic; for realism, there's reality. Amidst my chaotic musings, I began to think that winning the event or making it onto the podium would make the cheerful girl take notice of me, see me as someone interesting, with a talent previously hidden or unsuspected, and certainly surprising. From there, becoming closer was only a step away. So, my participation in the tournament had become a serious matter.
I couldn't shake the optimistic feeling that I really had a chance to win. "If I was the fastest in the trials, I can also be the fastest against students from other schools... And I have to admit that the cheerful girl 'helped' me on the track... If I use that 'trick' again and give it my all, I can really win!"
Only when my brain shut down from exhaustion and my mind could no longer replay happy or exciting scenes did I finally fall asleep.
The alarm clock failed to wake me up the next morning. At some hour I never found out, I opened my eyes slightly and twisted in my sleep due to the light, natural light right in my face. After tossing and turning on the mattress for a bit, an idea quickly crystallized in my brain: yes, I was running late for the tournament. As soon as I remembered that the day had arrived, I sprang out of bed, got dressed, and rushed out of the house. I barely had time to glance at the clock...
During my journey, my cellphone started to ring. I was receiving a call from an unlisted number. It was very unusual for someone who wasn't a family member to call me at that hour, so I couldn't help but be surprised.
"Good morning, Sanke! It's Kari... from school," said a sweet and lively voice on the other end of the line.
"Ah... Kari... Yes..."
"Are you okay? We're waiting for you to go to the athletics tournament."
"Yes, sorry, I had a delay."
I must have been embarrassed to offer such a clumsy justification or excuse, even if it couldn't be said that it was untrue.
"Alright, we're counting on you today."
"Yes! I'm about to arrive; just a few minutes..."
"Good, we'll see you then."
"See you..."
I hung up the phone, already feeling that I might have disappointed the cheerful girl... and despite my irresponsibility, she had spoken to me as friendly and sweet as always, as if my lateness didn't bother her, as if there was nothing wrong with making everyone wait.
"Ah, but if I win today..." I dared to think.
As I got off the bus, I sprinted in the direction of the school. Although the participants of the tournament weren't required to attend classes, the school's entrance was our meeting point to depart for the sports complex where the event would take place.
From a distance, I spotted one of the buses that would take us to the complex. A crowd of young people and a few adults had already gathered on the sidewalk. Due to my rush, I arrived visibly out of breath.
"How foolish," I thought I heard Aira say.
"Good morning. I apologize for being late, really," I said, bowing respectfully.
Hana gave me a disgusted look, as if she were looking at someone unpleasant.
"Are you okay, Sanke?" the cheerful girl asked, as kind as always and without making any faces.
"Did you know the race isn't here? It's at Club Ch*," Aira said mockingly.
Then, she went to stand next to the bus door. The cheerful girl followed her, but before that, she said to me with a soft, discreet voice, "Don't worry. We still have time; the opening ceremony is at ten o’clock, remember?"
It was only then that I remembered being told that a few days ago.
The cheerful girl went to her friend and nodded to the male Physical Education teacher.
"Classes 3-A, B, and C!" he called out.
The third-year participants quickly formed a line that was already partially formed. I joined them, standing at the back. Kari and Aira had an attendance sheet with our names; they made sure everyone was present. I was feeling hot and had started to sweat. When I boarded the bus, Aira averted her gaze, avoiding looking at me, while the cheerful girl seemed to feel sorry for me. She had every reason to.
A while later, now recovered, I was bored to death in one of the grandstands in front of the athletics track. Those who weren't waiting for their turn to perform were wandering around, getting ready at the side of the track, or already competing. Occasionally, I glanced at the cheerful girl, who was warming up her muscles near one of the track's curves. Aira and Hana were close to her, as always; not Ruri, though: she didn't like to run but participated in volleyball tournaments. Also, by attending classes, she could take notes that she would later offer helpfully to her friends.
The day was splendid, sunny and cloudless, but it was also hot. Tired of waiting and thirsty due to the dryness of the day, I got up to refresh myself and to go to the bathroom.
I don't remember what I was thinking when I went there; only that I was distracted enough not to pay attention to the loudspeaker's voice. In any case, the background noise in that confined space helped drown out that voice. When I came out, I saw Mack looking around, searching for something. I was about to ask him if he had lost something when he spotted me and said, "What are you doing? Your race is about to start!"
Then I remembered that I was there to compete in the tournament. I ran to the track, where about twenty boys were getting ready to start the race; as I passed by the male Physical Education teacher, I heard him exclaim, "Wake up, Jina!"
I made it in time, but there was only room for me at the back, which meant I would start among the last. Immediately, without a moment to gather strength or inspiration, or even to stretch my muscles or catch my breath, the whistle blew, and we all set off. And my competitors quickly pulled away from me...
It didn't take long for me to experience the race as suffering or even a kind of torture, in which I was short of breath, my side hurt, and my legs responded less and less, all in the midst of unbearable and growing agitation. I couldn't think clearly about anything; I could only watch as the initial compact mass of students scattered after half a lap. I had already lost sight of the first ones, and shortly after, I could only see four or five runners in front of me. As I approached the starting line to complete my first lap, Mack urged me with gestures to pick up the pace. I didn't see the cheerful girl or any of my other schoolmates on the side of the track. She had probably already been called to her event, or she didn't want to see me run and had left, or she had been taken away. The teacher was next to the starting line, among several of his colleagues, stopwatch in hand.
The following laps were the same for me as the first, with the added gradual certainty—and the resulting resignation—that I would neither win nor make it to the podium—I was actually among the last. All that was left was to try to finish my performance in the most respectable way possible.
I increased my speed, passed three runners, and crossed the finish line. Right after that, I stepped aside from the track, and there I wanted to stay for hours, if I had been allowed, to recover a bit. The teacher approached me and said something briefly, and a second later, he walked away.
With sore legs, I managed to move away, first a few meters from the track, and then back to the grandstands, with familiar faces. I joined a group of students from my school to chat, but the group constantly dissolved and reformed as someone was called or returned from an event, and before I knew it, I was at one end, somewhat distant from the rest.
After a while, I saw Kari and Aira approaching us. Each of them carried a tray with juice boxes. Kari climbed the grandstands to join those sitting higher up, while Aira headed towards those of us seated below.
As she offered a juice box to each of us kindly, with a warm and sincere smile on her face, the cheerful girl took a moment to ask each one how they had done and to offer words of encouragement. In contrast, Aira simply handed a juice box to each of us down below, almost without looking at us and speaking with what seemed like pure obligation, if not disdainfully—perhaps trying to imitate the cheerful girl in her own way: "Well done... You tried... You gave it your all..."
But when she stood in front of me, she added, "Or so I think."
"Have you won yet?" I challenged her as I reached out to take a juice box.
"I haven't competed yet," Aira replied haughtily.
"Ah, because you're talking as if you've already won. I'd speak like that if I had a medal hanging around my neck."
"I'm ready to win. I've practiced a lot."
"I hope you do... although I'm not sure those legs of yours can hold up for long."
"Huh?" Aira exclaimed, looking bewildered. "I'm entered in shot put and discus."
"Really, with those little arms...?"
Then, with a sudden movement of the tray, Aira threw the juice boxes at my head.
"Enough of this," she said to herself, putting the empty tray under her arm.
She then turned to me, looking at me sideways.
"We'll see what face you make when I win."
And as she was leaving, she thought of adding something else:
"And you talk as if you're not pathetic, as if you don't inspire pity. Don't you understand that the President doesn't want to see you, not even in photographs?"
The President, having noticed the scene, followed Aira, but before that, she stopped in front of me and said:
"It would be better if you didn't anger her. She's very proud, and she doesn't like to lose... The idea of losing doesn't sit well with her."
As she spoke those words, I noticed that she couldn't help but furrow her brow—very slightly and for tenths of a second, but I still saw it.
It was the first time I had seen her frown or appear upset. That made me angry with myself for having offended her by attacking her friend unnecessarily. If I had been smarter, I would have acted wisely and ignored Aira's insult, or I would have kept my mouth shut and not argued with her in the first place.
Ashamed, and also because of Aira's final words, I walked away and strolled around the complex. After a while, I ended up behind the main track, on the other side of the grandstands, near a small soccer field where other events were taking place. I settled comfortably behind the starting line, in a clear spot. As I sat on the dry, prickly grass, my body almost gave way and collapsed. In front of me, at a certain distance, some girls were practicing shot put. Aside from the one currently throwing, there were four young women waiting their turn. They all watched their opponent attentively and clung to the teacher when she recorded the distances reached. Then, another girl picked up a shot put and prepared to throw it. As she took the nervous steps toward the spot from which she was supposed to throw, she stretched her firm arms and legs, perhaps more to release tension than to elongate her muscles, as her subtle neck rotations suggested. She had a perfect posture, an elegant stride, and a completely resolute face, to which nothing seemed to be able to disrupt. She appeared extremely focused, and nothing and no one could divert her attention.
The girl looked down, scraped the dirt with the tip of her shoe, and assumed the typical pre-throw position. Then she began to spin; she propelled herself through the three ceremonial turns on her axis and, with incredible force, threw the shot put, letting out a noisy exhalation.
It was like watching a professional athlete in person and not on television.
That's how Aira was.
"She's a very strong girl," someone next to me commented.
Well, it wasn't "someone." It was the cheerful girl.
Seeing her, I realized that she had already run her race, as her clothes were slightly damp, her hair was wet, tied in a ponytail, and her face was slightly flushed, as if she had just finished exercising on a hot day.
I stood up.
"She'll do well. She practiced really hard. Even before the trials, she was practicing the movements," she continued.
Against all my instincts, I had to look away so as not to get lost in the beautiful cheerful girl, in her shorts, in her sun-kissed arms and legs, and in her hair, just slightly tousled, beautifully tousled.
"It seems she did well," I said, seeing Aira smile with satisfaction, though in a measured way, upon hearing her score.
"That's my girl," the cheerful girl said, with an equally wide smile. She then went over to her good friend to congratulate her with warm expressions.
Thinking that the competition was over and that Aira had won, I felt like leaving, but I was still too tired to continue wandering around, and I didn't know where to go. So, I sat back down on the yellowed grass. However, a moment later, the cheerful girl approached me again, in fact, she stood in the same spot as before. She had a peeled mandarin in her hands. She split it in half right in front of my eyes—I had quickly gotten back on my feet, suddenly driven by the need to hide my exhaustion from her eyes—picked a segment and brought it to her mouth. As soon as her teeth burst the citrus bag, a look of satisfaction took over her face. She was clearly enjoying the food. When she noticed that I was staring at her, dumbfounded and amazed, the cheerful girl composed herself and asked me, extending her hand toward me, with half a mandarin in her palm:
"Do you want some, Sanke?"
I accepted timidly, taking a segment without daring to take the fruit from her hand. And I understood the sensation that had taken over the cheerful girl because the mandarin was filled with sweet and refreshing juice, and the fact that I was very hungry—since I hadn't brought any food—made it doubly enjoyable. That's why my insides rejoiced that the cheerful girl didn't move her hand and instead said to me:
"Take more, have some more!"
Masking my stomach's eager desire, I allowed myself to serve two more segments and ate them separately and slowly.
"Thank you so much, Kari. It's delicious."
"Isn't it?"
For some mysterious reason, we were alone in the middle of a sports complex full of people. Any reasonably smart person would have seen the opportunity to have a quiet and pleasant conversation to get to know each other a little better. But instead of that, the first thing that came to my mind was to ask about a third person. When I realized my mistake, it was too late.
"Where's Aira? I thought she'd be with you."
"She made it to the final round. She has to throw again at some point."
"Oh, I thought she had already won. How did you do?"
"Ah..." the cheerful girl sighed. "An honorable fourth place. I was so close..."
At that precise moment, Hana arrived.
"You're just in time," the cheerful girl said. "She's about to compete for the medal."
"For the gold, yes. Yesterday, she couldn't stop talking about it."
"Well, that's her. I hope she gets it!"
"Where is she? I don't see her."
"She was over there," the cheerful girl replied, pointing to where Aira had been. "I think she's with those girls over there."
"Ah, I think I see her."
Kari and Hana continued talking to each other, and I stood aside in silence. I wanted to sit back down or simply walk away, but I didn't want the cheerful girl to think I felt uncomfortable or left out. I also didn't want to intrude on their conversation, which was about their concerns and not mine. So, I ended up getting lost in trivial thoughts until Kari and Hana suddenly got excited, catching my attention. Aira and other girls were about to participate in the final round of shot put. The teacher in charge of the competition addressed them briefly, and the young women listened with rapt attention. Then, the throwing order was decided. From what I saw in the distance, unable to hear what was being said, Aira was up first. Immediately, Kari and Hana whispered words of encouragement and expressions of desire to their friend, with a touch of nervousness added to their excitement. At this stage of the tournament, Aira was one of the last students who could put our school's name on the medal board.
Aira picked up the shot put and calmly walked to the spot from which she was supposed to make the throw, once again with a calm and determined expression, her gaze fixed on nothing. Then she turned her neck from side to side, exhaled, stretched her arms, pulled them back, took a deep breath, and prepared to get into position...
"See how he's looking at her," Hana whispered.
I turned to her immediately, realizing that she was referring to me.
"Well... he asked about her a moment ago," the cheerful girl said, laughing in a joking tone, but it was hurtful to me, as it seemed like she was forgetting (or worse, ignoring) that I liked her and not her irritable friend.
"She's a very pretty girl, isn't she, Sanke?" Hana asked me, with a mischievous tone in her voice.
I didn't say anything; I just shook my head vigorously and looked ahead.
The cheerful girl was much prettier, a thousand times more so.
Just as she was about to throw, Aira's gaze coincidentally found her friends, who immediately greeted her with gestures. The cheerful girl applauded enthusiastically and exclaimed, "Go!"
Aira returned a smile, but then she glanced away for a moment and looked at me. Her face underwent a transformation: first, her eyes widened in surprise, and less than a second later, she adopted a terrible, irritated expression. I could barely notice it since she immediately averted her gaze and focused on her preparation. I, too, started looking in another direction, as if shifting my attention to something more important; what mattered to me was being close to the cheerful girl.
"Oh, she fell," the cheerful girl said.
As I looked at Aira, I saw her on the ground on her knees. Two girls were already helping her to get up. Apparently, she had slipped or stumbled while throwing the shot put.
Taking advantage of the situation, I left. I did it on impulse, it's true, but perhaps I needed it. Hana would probably insist on embarrassing me, and Aira might blame me for her failure. I no longer saw a chance to speak privately with the cheerful girl. The best course of action, I thought at that moment, was to get something to eat before my stomach complained about being deceived by three measly but delicious mandarin segments.
A couple more hours passed until the events involving the school, at least for the third-year students, concluded. The bus that had taken us to the sports complex of Club Ch* picked us up at the spacious main entrance. Several people surrounded Aira, dazzled by the silver of her medal, admiring her for being the only student from our school to win one. I, on the other hand, was eager to return; I was already aware that the sort of plan that had occurred to me had failed, and I considered that I had nothing more to do... perhaps.
I got on the bus and looked for an empty seat. There weren't many options, and I quickly sat in the first seat I saw without paying attention to who was sitting next to it, looking out the window.
"Um... Sanke?"
I turned my head towards the aisle and saw Kari.
"I love you. Please, go out with me!" I exclaimed suddenly.
Well, that's not true, but at the time, I felt that if I didn't confess for real, on my own, I was going to go crazy.
"Excuse me, could you let me sit there? I want to sit with Aira."
Indeed, the person sitting next to me was Aira; she was now looking at me with horror, as if I were a monster or something of the sort.
She wore that silver medal hanging around her neck, which couldn't be ignored, and in front of which I couldn't help but feel a shiver that I believe I managed to hide, although it was accompanied by a fleeting and dreadful vision.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize," I apologized as I stood up to find another seat.
"Thank you, Sanke, and sorry!" exclaimed the cheerful girl, bowing to me with folded hands, a gesture that I found exaggerated.
"It's okay, no problem," I said, somewhat bewildered by what had just passed through my mind.
"I thought he was coming to apologize to me," I heard Aira say in a low and disdainful voice. The cheerful girl responded with a little laugh.
And that's how it went for me in the track and field tournament: bad on the track and bad off it. To avoid being negative, I could say that everything had turned out differently from what was planned or desired. I also thought that at least I had been able to talk to the cheerful girl, who supposedly had no desire to see me, but in reality, didn't shy away from interacting with me when she stood next to me and chatted with me for a while. Yet, I had made no progress; it seemed that if I couldn't summon the courage to confess, I would have to settle for brief moments devoid of almost any emotion.
In reality, when I tried to think about the matter, I ended up feeling confused.