UNTITLED II

There were things he wanted no knowledge of. Things he had no business being intrigued by. Things that no more struck his fancy like the raindrops outside struck the roof. The rhythm of the splatters annoyed him as much as the teacher’s voice did. History was not one of the many things he pondered over. No use burning energy, wasting brain juice over dead ancestors who helped shape the world.

Helped. Minor characters of significance to him. As the voice droned on, he focused his attention on the field on the school grounds, now made muddy by the rain. Unfazed by the weather, the popular gym teacher Miss Aikawa stood tall with her hands on her slender hips, pointing repeatedly at the field and her students. Even from afar he could see her students shaking their heads vigorously from side to side.

As expected, none of them wanted their PJ uniforms wet. White T-shirts and water did not mix well together, for their sake. His buddies would have a field day though, he thought silently as his eyes roamed the wide field. The girls, freshmen by the color of their crimson bloomers had started jogging along the tracks. Subconsciously, he leaned closer to the mirror. He could almost her them whining about the drizzle on the top of their heads. He was sure it was driving them crazy.

He flipped the page of his textbook, mimicking his other classmates’ actions by sound. His eyes remained fixed on the girl who ran gracefully in front of all the others, her long hair tied in a ponytail with a bright red ribbon. The most sought after freshman though he did not know her name. His friends loved talking about her, as much as they loved talking period. He found that very intriguing, how much their lips could move.

A knock on the classroom door turned his head, a girl with beautiful eyes made his focus stay. His eyes strayed to her shoulder-length hair swaying softly over her shoulder blades. Her skirt, which should’ve been short up to her thighs like everyone else dropped lower, swishing near her knees. The top button of her blouse was unbuttoned, exposing a bit of the fair skin at the base of her neck.

He stared at her lips as she spoke to the teacher, leaning forward to hear the sound of her voice. It did not have the usual girlish ring but it emitted a sweetness he was not used to but was glad to have heard. She licked her lower lip nervously when the teacher answered her question with an irritating sneer. He hated him more already. He could almost make out how fast her heart was hammering against her chest.

“Are you not aware that I am teaching, Miss…” the teacher took a moment to stare rudely at the nametag sewed on the right side of her chest before giving her another sneer again. “…Honda?” from his voice dripped the pure malice he could see clearly on his hateful face.

A number of girls in the row in front of him whispered silently, glancing at the freshman girl standing in front of the blackboard in sympathy. Subconsciously, his hands balled into fists under the table. He loathed this perverse history teacher who he knew enjoyed harassing a hand-picked amount of students. It was unfortunate for her to be one of those he targeted.

The girl lifted her eyes from the floor and turned to the class after muttering an apology to the teacher. Her eyes did not waver, her face showed no sign she was embarrassed or hurt. The only hint that told him she was affected was the slight tremble in her voice when she opened her mouth to speak.
“Mrs. Tanizaki asked for two boys to help with some boxes.”

Hearing their class teacher’s name, his hatred towards the history teacher doubled. Tanizaki-sensei was not the type of person who would ask for help if she could really handle the situation. Though he knew he would get hell for it afterwards, from his buddies, he lifted his hand and waved his arm slightly to get the teacher’s attention.

The middle-aged man in front of the white board’s eyes flicked over in his direction. There were very few things that gave him intense pleasure. He found he loved the look of distaste in his eyes. He shuffled out of the door behind the girl, hearing the class president’s feet shuffling outside after him.

“Here you go.”

The girl said cheerfully, slipping the can of ice juice into his hands. For a split-second her fingers touched his, making his day. He felt strangely light-headed outside the classroom and glad to be out of the monster’s line of vision. The man had this way of glaring at people; he hated it more than anything else in the world.

kuroneko 07