Beauty is skin deep, as expected

By Icura

~o~

Author's Note: This is a more drama-oriented project than my usual work.

~o~

Chapter 1

~o~

The teachers' lounge was not a place that I usually frequented, considering that I had kept my head down for most of my time in high school. The desks were stacked together in rows in a way that would have been too small for an actual office with a consistent amount of employees, but there weren't usually that many people here at the same time. Even now, there were only just a couple of teachers off at the other end of the room. Most of the other teachers had already gone to their classrooms to prepare for the last homeroom of the day. As for me, there was no other reason for me to be here except for the long-haired woman who was staring sternly at me from her chair while I stood in front of her with my hands behind my back. Despite my bored and nonchalant mannerism, I was holding my wrist with my other hand behind my back, feeling the periodic feedback of my heightened pulse.

"Enough is enough!" Hiratsuka slapped the rolled up bundle of paper against the corner of her office desk. "I received your doctor's notice since last week so there should be no reason for you to still be wearing that mask anymore so why haven't you taken it off?"

"It gives me a sense of comfort and familiarity."

"It isn't a safety blanket." She brought up her other hand and massaged her temple. "Is there any good reason why you're still wearing that?"

"My face…changed." What else could I say? "It doesn't matter either way, does it?"

"Are you planning to wear that mask until you graduate?"

Her face was stern, but her expression slowly began softening.

"You can't hide under that forever. I understand that there might be some lasting scars from your accident a year ago and the complications from the healing. That's why the school allowed some considerations due to your special circumstances," Hiratsuka said in a gentle tone. "But that understanding has already ended. If this drags on any longer, then I won't be the only one involved. Do you understand?"

"…yes, sensei." The bitter words left my mouth like unsweetened coffee, sobering in its finality.

It was pointless to say any more when it wasn't going to affect the outcome. This matter went above her authority, and that was reasonable enough since I was practically the only student in the entire school whose face was covered by bandages with a plastic mask over the top of it. The amount of times that people had stared at me suspiciously on the streets and the numerous random checks by police officers were enough that I had given up on making any pit-stops on my way home. After school, I usually headed straight home on the same route everyday, enough that the people who saw me eventually began to recognize me enough not to confront me or call the police. Not that they ever wanted to actually speak to me; my eyes were enough for them to be wary of me even before I had started wearing bandages to cover my wounds and a plastic mask to prevent things from impacting my face.

Hiratsuka stared at me for a few moments in silence before she closed her eyes and sighed. Standing up from her seat, she tapped her rolled up bundle of paper against my slightly lowered head.

"Don't think too much about it."

I couldn't not think about it. That was an impossibility. It was the same as asking me not to breathe. In fact, was she implying that I should just go die? That was hurtful. So hurtful in fact that I should just go straight home! When I was about to give voice to that thought, Hiratsuka chopped me on the head with her hand.

"Denied."

I rubbed my aching head. How did she know what I was thinking? Was she psychic?

"No, I could just see it in your rotten eyes."

"How can rotten eyes be that expressive?" I asked, though I wasn't expecting an answer. Following in accordance to my expectations, she remained silent, opting to simply stare at me as if I was an insect. That hurts. "Can't we just do this tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow becomes next week, and next week becomes next month. Do you think the principal or the board of education will allow that?" Hiratsuka asked in exasperation. Giving off a sigh, she decided to employ an encouraging smile. "It's okay to be scared. All you have to do is to keep chanting in your head that you mustn't run away."

Who was I, Ikari Shinji? I would be more inclined to the role if I had a giant robot to pilot. Wait, did that mean Yukinoshita was the kuudere pilot and Yuigahama was the tsundere pilot? Somehow, that didn't really fit all that well, especially the dere part.

"Homeroom will start soon so I will go first. Take some time to wash up." Hiratsuka paused for a moment before placing her hands on my shoulders. "You can die anytime, but living takes true courage."

"Rurouni Kenshin? Your age is showing, sensei—ah!" Her hands clamped down on my shoulders, her fingers digging in like bird talons.

"What was that?"

"N-nothing…" It was only then that Hiratsuka released my aching shoulders. It mostly had nothing to do with the other teachers who were glancing over at us. Probably. "I don't plan on dying at all."

"Good. It means you still have the will to see reality."

"I was never delusional in the first place." In fact, I saw myself as a realist.

"I'm heading out first," Hiratsuka said, ignoring my counter. "Don't take longer than ten minutes."

"I'm really not going to run away…" Seriously, there was no point to. It was near the end of the school day so it was better to do it now, especially I didn't relish the thought of being dragged out first thing in the morning tomorrow to do my dramatic high school reveal and then have to sit through it for the entire day.

In fact, I would have preferred to not do it at all. At first, when I came to school with a bandaged and masked face, I had gotten loads of attention and sympathy, but as with every new thing, it died down after awhile. I wasn't the type who had natural charisma so I couldn't hold their attention. Rumors usually lasted for 75 days, and interest in me was just as short. Actually, it was shorter. You could say that despite an appearance that didn't conform to the norm, I was a forgettable existence. In other words, I had become so skillful at stealth that I had transcended human constraints.

Therefore, I had become a hidden god.

I was left alone in the teachers' lounge except for an unshaven teacher a few desks down who was now staring at me in annoyance.

"Get going already. I'm locking up the place."

"Sorry…"

~o~

After that, I had quickly left the teachers' lounge and took residence in the nearby restroom. On the male side, of course. Since class had already started, there was no one in here. That was to be expected since this was one of the top college preparatory high schools in the area. That stood to reason that those who got in through the entrance exam were not the types that were likely to hang out in the bathroom during class time and smoke cigarettes. Then again, Yuigahama somehow got into this school so there were exceptions. It was better to make sure.

After checking by bending over to glance slightly under the stall doors and pushing each door open, I confirmed that I was completely alone. It was only then that I walked over to the sink and the mirror that stood over it. In the reflection, a white mask over a bandaged head stared back at me. Only my hair and eyes were visible, and those very same lackluster eyes stared back at me as if to question my decision. I could say that I had no choice or that I was forced into this, but there was always a choice. However, I wasn't so illogical to choose a choice that only had risks and penalties attached to it with the only benefit being extra time. More time was useful, but only if you knew what you were going to do with it. As it was, I was more likely than not to simply waste it; I was good at time-wasting after all. I could even say that time-wasting was one of my many skill sets, enough that I could be called a grandmaster.

Taking out my smartphone, I glanced at the time. Six minutes left. It seemed that I had unintentionally put my skill to good use.

First, I took off the protective white mask. Removing the bands would have taken a bit more time, but after a year of doing it, I was pretty much an expert. Not that it was useful anywhere else except maybe on bra straps, but that was not going to happen. Placing the mask careful off to the side of the sink, I looked back up at myself to see a bandaged face that reminded me of a certain samurai assassin with a tragic past of being doused in oil and fire. These were fresh bandages that I had put on myself in the morning. I had learned to do it myself after seeing Komachi cry while doing it for me in the first month. It was hard to point it out when she kept saying it was just dust in her eyes so I found it easier just to become self-sufficient on my own.

I carefully removed the bandages, letting it fall into the sink. It was going into the trash anyways so it didn't matter that it got soaked by the leftover droplets sticking to the porcelain.

It was only when I was done that I looked up at the mirror and saw the face that I had seen just last night. It was the same face that only my doctor had seen, and he had said it was the result of a late onset of puberty.

But could puberty really cause this?

The face that looked back at me had no scars, displaying supple and tender skin with no blemishes. A molded face with a shapely nose and cheek bones, sculpted in such a way that it brought out a sense of a beauty even in someone like me who had no appreciation for the arts except in anime. Eyebrows that were thin and delicate lines; glossy lips that had a texture that seemed so soft that it felt like I could melt into it; and a chin so graceful that it was like it came out of a drawing or a movie.

All in all, it was an incredibly handsome face that mesmerized even me, making me feel far more narcissistic than I was. If Hayama was the baseline, then this face was already five levels over it, bringing it into the territory of a model or even a supermodel. If I went into a host's club, then this face would be considered at the top, even though the rest of me couldn't back that up. It was crazy; it was insane. I mean, it was still recognizable as my own face with the tattle-tell signs, but it was like a highly improved version. If I went to my middle school reunion, they would probably still recognize who I was, but it was like the difference between a childhood picture and an adult picture.

There was some moisture clinging to my skin because of the bandages so I turned on the water and splashed my face with it. Even with water dripping off my face like sweat, I still looked ridiculously handsome. To make it clear, my face before the accident was above average at best, nowhere to close to what I was seeing now. For it to become like this… Most people would have been overjoyed to come upon such good fortune as this, but I couldn't feel too happy about it. Well, I did feel a little happy—okay, a good amount of happiness, but it was stymied by the realization of the facts. There was such a thing as too much of a good thing. If it was only on the level of Hayama, then it was still reasonable and would only provide benefits.

However, this was far beyond that.

When you are too attractive, the effect is reversed.

It was all too easy, like in Yukinoshita's case, to attract maliciousness, but she could handle it due to her mindset and inherent charisma.

What is charisma?

Charisma was made up of appearance, personality, attitude, charm, and a bunch of other little nuisances that I couldn't be bothered with. Before, I had none of these. You could say that I had, in effect, a balance of zero. Now, however, I had one of it in excessive amounts. Did this make me charismatic?

The answer is no.

Even though my appearance stat was over the limit, enough that it could make up for some of my deficiencies, it wasn't enough. There would no doubt be people approaching me, but besides my face, everything else about me had not changed. Therefore, it was a matter of time before they got hurt. Or worse, I got hurt.

I was not Hayama who would value others over himself; I was his opposite. The web of friends that he weaved for himself? I would break it on the second day. More than that, I saw no value in it. For those who approached me now, they did it solely because of my face. Where were they before?

Then again, I understood that too. They could not help themselves. It was like how babies often reached out their little hands to beautiful people; it was in their genetic makeup. They were compelled to do so, and to act otherwise was outside of their instinctual nature.

Mankind may have evolved out of strictly following their primal instincts, but they still, subconsciously and in times of panic, fall back into them as if they were born to it.

Which they were.

That was why I couldn't fault them for it, but neither could I accept them.

In essence, even now, it was better to stay friendless.

Wiping off the excess water off my face and hands with a paper towel, I looked down at my smartphone. Two minutes left. I had to get going if I wanted to make it before my time runs out.

I threw away the used paper towels and bandages into the nearby trash. Picking up the white mask, I contemplated going without it, but it would be too much of a hassle to have to explain and prove who I am. It was better if they knew it from the outset so that the introduction could end quicker, and I could get to my seat faster. The more time I spent up in front of the class, the more chances of me getting too nervous and faltering. I knew myself too well to not be wary of that.

I placed the mask back on my face, securing it in place with a couple of the straps. There were a few more straps that were supposed to hold it firmly in place, but I wasn't going to need those for what I had to do. I took a look in the mirror. Without the bandages on and only the mask on, I looked distinctly different, showing far more skin and hair than I did before. It gave me a kind of wild look that you would see on murderers in horror movies. I could only be thankful that class already started so that the hallways were empty. Taking a deep breath, I left the restroom and made my way down the hallway.

It was an expansive corridor that was designed to look similar to all the other hallways of the school, but time and wear had worn at the walls, sliding doors, and windows, making them distinctive enough that even without the signs, you could find your way around with only a little bit of familiarity. Even lost in my own thoughts as I was, I eventually made it to my classroom's doors. The sign read, "2-F," confirming what I already knew. If it was 2-B instead, I could at least pretend that I was entering an android, but there was nothing so amusing about my own classroom. As I stared at the hand grip, I was tempted to not slide it open. The sound of Hiratsuka lecturing escaped through the gap in the doors, further increasing my dismay. A late entry would interrupt the monologue, enticing everyone's attention my way. Since I had always tried to hide in plain sight, the reluctance was strong.

However, logic always trumped instinct.

I placed my fingers on the handhold and pulled the sliding door open, the creaking sound seemingly loud in the ensuing silence.

Hiratsuka turned her attention from the chalkboard to me.

"You're still wearing that…? Well, come in already." She beckoned me with her hand.

I stepped into the classroom, sliding the door shut behind me. It wasn't hard to notice all the stares directed my way, a few of them actually paying more attention. This wasn't unreasonable since, without my bandages, I already looked different enough. With tepid steps, I made my way to the spot next to Hiratsuka, in front of the entire class. She turned to look at the sitting students, giving them a leveled stare.

"Now, class, Hikigaya is going to be taking off his mask. However, I don't want you to be treating him any differently. This takes a lot of courage."

There were a couple of scattered clapping that quickly died when no one else joined in. Well, they weren't interacting with me anyways so not changing treatment meant that they should keep ignoring me, but everything would change no matter what. That was simply the nature of change.

My change was only on the skin, increasing the level of beauty on the outside in a superficial way. But then again, you could say the same thing about an android. If 2B were to ask for my love and affection, would I say no? In that case, beauty on the outside was very significant! Super significant! After all, what was on the inside was just a bunch of metal and circuitry.

A ruler tapped me on the head, bringing me out of my thoughts. Hiratsuka gave me a comforting smile.

"Don't think too much about it. Just take it off like how you'd rip off a bandage. The longer you think about it, the harder it gets."

That wasn't what I was thinking about at all, but I obliged anyways. Reaching my hands up behind my head, I quickly undid the straps. Moving my fingers forward to the edges of the mask, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. With deft movements, I lowered the mask.

With my eyes closed, I couldn't see anything, but I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Yet, in spite of that, I heard nothing else. Slowly, I cracked open my eyes and peeked out. When I could barely see through the blur, I opened my eyes all the way.

Contrary to my expectations, all I saw were just my classmates staring at me. Sure, many were wide-eyed and some had their mouths open, but it was actually underwhelming since they weren't doing anything else. Not a clap, an exclamation, or even a question. Not a sound and not a word.

Honestly, I didn't know what I was expecting. Maybe I thought there would be clapping and a chorus of congratulations at the end of the world. Instead, the only thing that happened was an oppressive silence. Their wide-eyed gazes followed me as I began fidgeting in place, yet in spite of my growing anxiety, nobody did anything except watch me. Unable to take the silence anymore, I turned my head to Hiratsuka.

"Sensei, I'm going to take my seat." My words seemed to snap her out of her trance. She blinked a couple of times.

"G-go ahead…"

I didn't need any more prompting. Walking briskly through the aisle, I could practically feel heads turning and eyes following me. Reaching my desk, I pushed the chair out and sat down. However, it did nothing to alleviate the attention on me, even though there was a sense of comfort from the familiarity of my desk. It was only when Hiratsuka started talking again that most of the gazes turned away. Still, I could see some of them glancing back at me often enough, not to mention the burning gazes on my back.

It made it impossible to concentrate on the lesson at all. You could say that I passed the time by being frozen like a statue, where each part of my body seemed to spontaneously start itching for no apparent reason.

This was different. I had been the subject of hatred, of gazes that stared at me with disdain. I could handle that. In fact, I was a veteran in that. If someone said that I could become All the World's Evil, I wouldn't think that it was an impossibility. Near impossible, yes, but not completely impossible. There was a big difference.

Mired in my own thoughts and ineptitude, time swiftly passed by. The moment that class ended, I was already out of my seat and rushing to the doorway. I didn't run, but I didn't exactly walk either. Entering the hallways, I saw that it was still empty, the lull just before the students from the other nearby classrooms exited theirs, giving me a moment of respite. As I walked speedily down the hallway without the pressure of those stares, my thoughts ran rampant.

What was I expecting to happen? This was reality. The expectation that I had was on the level of a daydream, like what if terrorists raided your class and you used your hidden abilities to defeat them? You would expect awe and adoration, but the truth of the matter was that it would most likely cause fear instead. Fear and isolation.

Yukinoshita was a good example of that. Because of her high specs that she didn't downplay like Hayama, she became ostracized.

Why did I think that anything would change significantly? Only my face changed. It wasn't like my body was any different or my personality untwisted itself. My deadened fish eyes didn't suddenly become big and bright. The only change to me was on a superficial level. It didn't erase or reset my past. I wasn't expecting it to, but at the same time, there was a faint hope for it.

That was the nature of change. Like a new haircut, you expected everyone to notice and dramatically change their view of you. That you would become part of a crowd that didn't simply consist of only yourself. Reality often did it differently. Source: my past.

If you know yourself, you can retreat from a thousand battles without loss. Everyone thinks that it is better to win a battle, but no, the most important thing is living.

Surviving.

"Hikki!" Even if I didn't recognize her nickname for me, I could recognize her voice. I wanted to reach the clubroom before the other students crowded the hallway, but there was no way that I could simply ignore her. Stopping on the spot, I turned back to see Yuigahama a small distance from me with her hands on her thighs, breathing heavily. As if just noticing that I stopped, she walked up to me and puffed out her cheeks. "Why did you leave so quickly? I had to run after you!"

"You didn't have to run after me…" I averted my eyes from her flushed appearance. "I'm just going to the clubroom."

"Hikki, is this what you really look like?" She reached out her hand to my face, but I instinctively batted it away. Undeterred, she reached out her other hand and grabbed my cheek, pulling at it. "It is real!"

"Did you think my face would come off?" I quickly backed away out of her reach, my face flushed from the soft touch of her fingers. "Can we talk at the club? People are staring."

Indeed, we had become something of a live attraction. The students that had been coming out of the nearby classrooms were openly gawking at us, as if they didn't have a club or a home to go to.

Yuigahama—having taken notice of all the attention we were getting—nodded her head and grabbed my hand. She pulled me forward, nearly making me trip as she rushed ahead. Well, technically, she didn't actually have that much pulling power, but I allowed myself to be pulled forward in any case. As I was enthralled by the hand pulling me, there was one nagging question that kept appearing in my mind.

Did she ever do this before?

The answer was no, and I wasn't quite sure how to feel about it.

That was why I couldn't accept it. Something easily given could just as easily be taken away. If I had another accident that scarred my face and made me ugly, would they stay?

The answer was obvious, wasn't it?

Such sentiments were only skin deep, only on the level of the epidermis layer. It wasn't like anything fundamental about me changed. Everything besides my face stayed the same. My body was the same, my mind was unchanged, and even my rotten eyes remained just the way it was before. Therefore, the reason she stepped in front of me was just the same.

Superficial.

Put into that perspective, it made me bitter, as if I had bitten straight into a lemon. I didn't want something so hollow.

But was I any different?

In middle school, I had put my delusions and desires onto a girl just because she was just a bit kind. A bit nice. If someone asked me what her favorite food was or if she had any siblings, I wouldn't have been able to answer. That was because I didn't know anything about her. I didn't see it. I didn't realize it until it was far too late. The next day, everyone knew my mistake. More than all of that, I regretted my mistake, enough that I wanted to bury the memory into my pillow. I wanted to yell it out in the bathtub, and when Komachi knocked to ask if anything was wrong, I would say that everything was fine.

The bitter realization made me pull away from her hand.

Yuigahama stopped and looked at me, surprised, but we were already in front of the clubroom's sliding doors.

"Hikki?"

"Sorry…" I didn't know what I was apologizing for, but it felt like a situation for apologizing.

Yuigahama seemed similarly confused, but she gave a bright smile and slid the door open. Inside was a sight that I had come to expect. Sitting in a chair with a book open in her lap was Yukinoshita Yukino, Strands of her long hair were sent fluttering by a breeze from the open window, her lithe fingers brushing them aside when they did. Despite having to get the key everyday, she still managed to arrive here before us. It took her a moment that stretched for far too long before she glanced up from the passage she had been reading.

"Yuigaham—" The last syllable was left unsaid, a minor mistake for anyone, but I knew Yukinoshita enough to know that it was out of the ordinary. Her eyes moved to me with all the grace of a lion ready to slaughter for fun. "What is that?"

'What' and 'that' implied an object. Instead of a human, I had become an android. Should I wear a blindfold and call myself 9S?

"It's Hikki!" Yuigahama shouted with all the enthusiasm of someone who didn't notice at all the slight insinuation sent my way. Yukinoshita brought her eyes over, examining me slowly from top to bottom.

"Your slouch and posture remains the same. Even without your rotten eyes, I'd have been able to confirm your identity," Yukinoshita said stoically. "You have finally taken off your mask?"

"My doctor said I didn't need it anymore." The elephant in the room was obviously my face, but it wasn't like I could bring it up without sounding conceited.

"It might have been better for you to keep it." Yukinoshita sighed. "Unfortunately, now your twisted personality won't ever change."

"You say that as if I'm stuck with it forever."

"Isn't that obvious?" She placed her bookmark into her book and shut it. "Change only happens when there is a necessity."

She was implying that there were plenty of people who would take me just for my face alone. The problem with that was that she wasn't wrong. Wait, was it even a problem? My goal of being a househusband was one step closer!

"You're obviously thinking of deranged thoughts. I'd recommend you back way before it's too late."

"You make me sound like a nascent serial killer!"

"With a twisted personality like yours, we cannot deny that possibility."

"Even if I could kill someone, I'd be haunted by the guilt until I die!"

"I wasn't aware you read, 'Crime and Punishment.' That seemed far more foreign for your taste."

"I haven't."

"Yukinon, what's that?" Yuigahama asked with a questioning tilt of her head.

"A Russian novel about murder and the guilt associated with it." Yukinoshita placed her book on the table and rose from her seat. "Tea?"

I nodded my head while Yuigahama enthusiastically agreed, clinging to the other girl's arm. Yukinoshita looked exasperated, but she didn't do anything to get out of her grip, merely walking together over to where the sink and stove were. Even then, as if I had an eye in the back of my head, I could feel them peeking over at me. However, I appreciated the attempt at normalcy.

Those with exciting lives yearned for a mundane one while those with boring lives were the ones who wanted excitement. What about those with lackluster lives that wanted to keep their mundane life? That just meant that they were dull in the first place.

It wasn't long before a paper cup with tea was served before me, while the two girls held ceramic mugs. Despite all appearances, my life was no longer mundane or normal. I couldn't deny that even if I wanted to. Looking into my reflection in the liquid, I could see androgynous, attractive features that transcended gender and sexual orientation. If I wasn't careful, I would end up at a tragic end. I raised the paper cup up and took a sip.

I glanced at the closed door to the room. For some reason, I imagined loads of people knocking on the door and rushing into the room to take a gander at me. However, reality wasn't like that. The closed and silent door was a testament to that. I had jumped to conclusions again, even though I had vowed not to. Then again, vows taken in pain, agony, and humiliation weren't exactly the most reliable. Ah, I just remembered another middle school trauma.

I took another sip of the tea, as if it would wash away the bad recollection.

I wished I had a mug. The paper cup was starting to become too hot to hold. I placed the cup onto the table and rubbed my heated hands on my pants. Maybe it was just me trying to ignore the fact that all of the conversations had already died out, and that they were just staring at me. Usually, Yuigahama would bring up a topic to which Yukinoshita would respond to and I would make some side comments on, but it didn't seem like the usually ecstatic girl was in the mood for it.

"Hikki, is that really what you look like?"

It had almost slipped my mind that Yuigahama had seen what I looked like before, even if it was just for a few moments before the car accident.

"The doctors said I had a late puberty."

"Even with plastic surgery, this level isn't achievable by modern standards," Yukinoshita said briskly. "And even if it were, it would exceed his meager finances."

With two corporate slaves for parents, I didn't have to worry about living costs, but it definitely wasn't enough to send me to South Korea to get a complete facial reconstruction. Work harder for my sake.

"That's true, but isn't he too pretty?" Yuigahama asked.

"Pretty isn't a word you would use for a guy—wait, forget I said that." I quickly corrected myself when I remember the existence of an exception. That of Totsuka Saika. "Handsome is a better word, isn't it?"

"Gross."

Hey, hey. Weren't you the one who called me pretty in the first place? I demand compensation for my hurt feelings!

"We'll just say you're good looking," Yuigahama said cheerfully.

"You have to be careful with what you say to him or he'll get an inflated head," Yukinoshita quipped.

"My head is not full of helium," I replied.

"Then what is your head full of?" Yukinoshita asked with a skeptical look.

Why did she look so skeptical in the first place? Did she really think my head was full of helium? No, it was eighty percent full of things that I couldn't talk to girls about. Not that I had any male friends to talk about it to either.

"It's better not to say…"

The disgusted looks that both of them directed at me just reinforced my decision not to say anything else.

Like this, we spent a meaningless amount of time in a meaningless club on a meaningless day. There were so much meaninglessness that I might as well be meaningless. Well, this existential crisis would have to wait for tomorrow where it would then be repeatedly relegated to the next day thereafter until I forget about it. Crisis? Did something like that happen before? I completely forgot.

The sun was already starting to dip when Yukinoshita decided to call an end to club activity.

I packed my book into my bag when Yuigahama stood up from her seat.

"Hikki, let's go home together!"

~o~

I had no reason to refuse her.

While walking my bike, holding onto the handles, Yuigahama was walking besides me. There wasn't much to talk about, and that silence seemed to agitate her far more than me. Despite that, it remained unbroken, even now as we crossed a small street where fewer and fewer students could be seen. She held onto her school bag and took peeks at me every so often, as if urging me to start up a conversation. However, her hopes were misplaced because I had enough experience in social situations that if it was a matter of life and death, I would die instantly. Still, I had to eventually say something, even if it was just to break up this tense atmosphere.

"…was that okay?" At my question, her head seemed to swivel on the spot to me. "Weren't you going to sleep over at Yukinoshita's apartment?"

"Ah, you know about that?"

"You were talking about it with her in the club a couple of days ago."

"Oh." Yuigahama laughed awkwardly. "It's fine. We can always do that another day."

"I see." I knew that phrase was a conversation ender, but there was nothing else I could say.

A silence began to grow between us again, though it didn't seem so oppressive this time.

"…Hikki," Yuigahama slowly said, bringing my attention to her. "If a random girl asks you out, would you go out with her?"

"I don't know." I honestly didn't know what I would do. The difference was the amount of choice there was now. Before, there was a scarcity for me so it was undeniable that I would have been skeptical at first, but if it was genuine, I would have accepted, regardless of who that person was. Now, I couldn't be so sure.

"If that's the case…"

She looked up at her, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. In that moment, under the setting sun, I was mesmerized.

"Please go out with me."

But…

"Why only now?"

~o~

Author's Note: This is a more dramatic project than I usually do. Well, it's a side project while I wait for my co-author to catch up to my reading and research. It seemed like a funny idea at first, but when I was actually writing it, it didn't turn out that way. Anyways, I will be continuing this while I wait for my co-author just to see where it goes. Hope you enjoyed it even if it is out of the norm from what I usually write.