The afternoon sun bled through the classroom windows, casting long, jagged shadows across the desks. I stared at the back of Sama's head, my mind looping back to his words at lunch. Betrayed by a friend once... still kind. It didn't make sense. It was a glitch in my worldview.
"Hey, Hamasaki," Sama said, turning around as the teacher began erasing the board. "Sorry about what happened at lunch. I didn't mean to push you."
"I don't need your apology. Get lost," I snapped, not even looking up from my notebook.
"But I wanted to be friends with y—"
"I said get lost! Are you deaf or something?" My voice cracked like a whip through the quiet room. A few students at the front turned to stare, their whispers like static.
Sama blinked, the hurt flickering in his eyes for a split second before that indestructible smile returned though it looked a little more tired this time. "Well, if that's what you want... sorry." He turned back to his seat.
"I told you I don't want your apology, idiot," I muttered under my breath.
The final bell finally rang, a mercy kill for a miserable day. I packed my bag with practiced speed, desperate to leave as early as possible.
"Hey, Hama—" Sama started, walking toward me.
I didn't let him finish. I looked up and gave him a glare so sharp it felt like it could draw blood.
He stopped in his tracks, let out a nervous laugh, and waved his hand. "Nevermind! Please forget it! See ya!"
"What's up with him? Whatever." I threw my bag over my shoulder and headed for the door. But I didn't even make it past the threshold.
"Hey, you."
The voice was cold and firm. I looked back and felt a jolt of recognition. It was her, the long-haired girl who had cornered me in the hallway. The one who had protected the girl with glasses.
"Your name is Hamasaki Tamotsu, right?" she asked, her arms crossed.
"What do you want? Are you stalking me now?" I asked. My voice wasn't as angry as before; I was just exhausted.
"Of course not. I told you, we're in the same class, didn't I?" she replied, her eyes scanning me with an intensity that made me want to look away. "My name is Shiraki Emi. We're classmates."
"What's with the sudden introduction? You're making me uncomfortable," I said, shifting my weight.
"Because we're classmates," Emi said simply. "It's good to know the names of the people you have to see every day."
I let out a huff. "Yeah, whatever. Classmates. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going home."
"I'm here for another reason," Emi said, her voice dropping an octave. She stepped forward, closing the distance. "Do you remember Tamaki Madoka from class 1-B?"
The shy girl. The one I'd yelled at for no reason. "Yeah. I remember. What about her?"
"Don't you feel guilty?"
Emi's eyes flashed with a spark of genuine anger. "Don't you feel even a little bit bad for not apologizing to her?"
"Nope. Not at all," I answered without a second of hesitation.
"What!! Are you insane!!" Emi took a sudden step toward me, her face inches from mine.
"You should at least feel a little guilty for your mistake, Hamasaki Tamotsu!"
I stood my ground, staring back at her. I waited for her to keep shouting, but the words died in her throat. I realized then that I wasn't looking at her eyes anymore.
A button on the top of her school shirt had given way, maybe from her sudden, angry movement, or maybe it had been loose all day. My face went from pale to a deep, burning crimson.
Emi noticed my silence and said "What? are you feel Guilty now after a girl approach you?" But then she noticed where my eyes were.
"Wahhh...!"
The realization hit her like a lightning bolt. She dropped to a crouch, hugging her arms around herself as if trying to disappear. A scream of pure embarrassment tore from her throat.
"What happened!" I stammered, my heart racing for an entirely different reason now.
"Don't look! Don't look!!" she shrieked.
"I didn't see anything! I swear!" I shouted back, shielding my own eyes. For the first time all day, the "cool, heartless" Hamasaki was gone. I felt a crushing weight of guilt, not for the lunchroom, but for this.
"Do you... do you really not see it?" Emi asked, her voice small and shaky.
"Of course not!" I lied, my face feeling like it was on fire.
"Well... it's getting late! I'm going now!" I didn't wait for a response. I turned and bolted for the stairs, my sneakers squeaking against the linoleum.
"Wait—!" Emi's voice called out behind me, but I didn't stop.
I ran until I hit the fresh air outside the school gates. I stopped, bent over, and breathed heavily, the cool evening wind stinging my lungs. I looked at my shaking hands.
"What the hell is going on?" I whispered to the empty street. "Today really is a bad way to start school."
After taking a deep breath, I head home.
"I'm home," I muttered, sliding the front door open.
"Welcome home!" My father, Hamasaki Daichi, called out from the kitchen. He was always so cheerful, a complete contrast to the heavy cloud I carried around.
"How was school, son?"
"It was fine, I guess," I replied, my voice flat. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to explain why I had a permanent scowl on my face.
"Okay! Dinner will be ready soon, so go take a shower and change your clothes"
Before going to my room, I stopped at the small altar in the living room. I sat in front of the photo of my mother. She had died when I was ten. Stage 4 cancer. She and My Father were the only people who truly knew the "kind" version of me.
"I'm home, Mother," I whispered.
At dinner, the silence was heavy, at least on my end. My father tried to bridge the gap. "So, did you make any new friends today?"
I paused, my chopsticks hovering over my rice. I thought of Sama's annoying grin.
"Yeah... I guess."
"Good! I hope you make a lot of friends, just like you used to." He beamed.
I forced a fake laugh that felt like swallowing glass. A lot of friends? After what happened in middle school, after being stabbed in the back by the person I trusted most. The idea of "friends" was a joke. A normal friend was dangerous; a "best friend" was a death sentence.
I went to bed early, staring at the ceiling. "Tomorrow is day two," I whispered. "Today was bad. Tomorrow will be worse. I just want to disappear. I hate the world." And deeply fall asleep.
The next morning, the routine was the same. I walked to school, swapped my shoes at the locker, and headed to class. I sat by the window, letting the world outside become a blur.
"Hey, Hamasaki!"
Sama. Of course.
"Good morning!" he chirped. I ignored him, staring harder at the cherry blossoms outside. I felt a tiny prick of guilt seeing him deflate, so before I could stop myself, I muttered,
"Morning."
Sama's face lit up like a Christmas tree, but he had the sense to stay in his seat and not push his luck.
Then, the storm arrived.
"Hey, Tamotsu!"
I'd almost forgotten about yesterday's embarrassment until Shiraki Emi stood over my desk. Before I could say a word "Come with me now!" she grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the room. The whole class stared, whispering as the "scary guy" was hauled away by the class firebrand.
She dragged me all the way to the rooftop.
"What is your problem!?" I shouted, wrenching my arm free. "Why are you dragging me up here?"
Emi didn't yell. She just stared at me, her face a mix of suspicion and lingering embarrassment. "Did you see it?"
I guess yesterday problem wasn't solve yet.
maybe acting like I forget about it will do.
"See what?" I tried to lie, but I felt the heat rising to my neck. My face was a bright, incriminating red.
"Don't lie, Tamotsu! You said you didn't see it yesterday, but look at you now!"
I'm dead
I took a deep breath. I was caught. "Fine. Yes. I saw it." I closed my eyes, expecting a slap or another lecture. "I'm sorry! Please forgive me!"
To my own shock, I found myself kneeling. It was that damn "kind boy" reflex again, the one I hated.
Did I really apologize to her like this!!?
Emi looked down at me, her expression softening just a fraction. "If you apologize to Tamaki Madoka, I'll forgive you."
I snapped my eyes open and stood up instantly. "Absolutely not."
"What!?" Emi's face contorted with rage. "You jerk!"
WHAM!
Her foot connected with my stomach. I flew back three meters, hitting the concrete and clutching my gut. The pain was sharp and cold.
"Ough..."
Ding-dong-ding-dong.
The school bell saved my life. Emi glared at me one last time. "I'll deal with you later."
I limped back to class three minutes late. Tsuruta-sensei was already at the podium, a devious smirk on his face.
"Okay everyone, today you decide which clubs you're joining!"
The room erupted in cheers. I sank into my seat. Club? No way. I'm going home the second the bell rings.
"And for those of you thinking of skipping out," Tsuruta continued, his smile turning "evil," "anyone not in a club will have to take a mandatory supplemental test every single Friday until the end of the year."
What kind of tyrant is this guy!? After class, Tsuruta called me to his office. I thought for sure Emi had snitched about the rooftop, but it was worse.
"Hamasaki, I hear you don't want to join a club. Are you ready for those weekly tests?"
Apparently, He heard my conversation with Sama back in class. I told Sama that I wasn't going to join the club.
"No, sir," I muttered.
"Then I have the perfect spot for you. You're joining the Drama Club."
"Drama...?" My heart sank. Acting? Being on stage? Being seen?
"You have a very... expressive face, Hamasaki," Tsuruta said, ignoring my look of horror.
"Go see your new club members during lunch. That's an order."
Lunch was a nightmare. Sama is joining the Sports Clube and he was thrilled I was joining a club, which only made me more irritated. I wandered the halls for ten minutes until I found the room.
"Sorry for intruding," I said, my voice cold as I pushed the door open.
The room was a mess of boxes, props, and costumes. Five people were sitting in a circle in the center. My heart stopped.
There, sitting on a chair with a script in her hand, was Shiraki Emi. And right next to her was the girl with the glasses, Tamaki Madoka.
"Wait... why are you here!?" Emi screamed, jumping to her feet.
I felt a vein throb in my forehead. "That's my line!"
The silence in the drama club room was thick enough to choke on. I stood by the door, my hand still gripping the handle, staring at the group. It felt like a sick joke. Every person I had managed to irritate in the last twenty-four hours was sitting in this one room.
I explained the situation how Tsuruta-sensei had essentially blackmailed me into joining to avoid the weekly tests.
"I see... so you're joining the Drama Club because you had no choice," Emi said, her voice surprisingly calm, though her eyes still held that sharp, defensive edge.
"That's ridiculous!"
A boy stood up, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. He was a second-year, slightly taller than me, with an average look that was currently distorted by a scowl. His name was Ozawa Sora.
"How can Sensei possibly think this guy is 'perfect' for us?" Sora muttered, glaring at me.
I looked at him, a flicker of recognition crossing my mind. "Have we met before?"
"Of course we have!" Sora shouted. "We met yesterday at the gate! You literally smirked at me and talked trash when I was just trying to be nice!"
Ah. Right. He was the "first-day-welcome" guy I'd shoved.
"Hey, hey, calm down now, Sora-kun," another boy said, placing a steady hand on Sora's shoulder. He looked intelligent, glasses, a neat uniform, and an aura of absolute calm.
"My name is Yokota Masayuk, first year, Class 1-A. And this is my friend, Ozawa Sora, second year, Class 2-B."
"And I'm Kaba Ayame!" The third girl spoke up joyfully. She was the one with the sky-blue bobbed hair from the bulletin board. She beamed at me. "I guess this isn't our first time meeting, right?"
"Nope. This is our first time," I said coldly, turning my head away.
"You're so rude!" Ayame muttered, her cheerful expression faltering.
Emi stepped forward, reclaiming the center of the room. "You already know my name, but let me introduce myself again for the sake of the club. I'm Shiraki Emi, Class 1-C. I hope we can... get along."
"And I'm Tamaki Madoka, Class 1-A," the shy girl whispered from behind Emi. "I'm counting on you guys."
They all looked at me. The pressure was suffocating. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to know their names. I didn't want to "get along."
"My name is Hamasaki Tamotsu, Class 1-C," I said, the words feeling like ash. "I hope we can get along." I didn't mean the last part. It was just a script.
"Okay, should we start the meeting?" Emi asked, looking at the group.
"I'm going to the toilet," I declared, immediately turning back toward the door.
"What?! You just got here!" Emi shouted.
"Sorry. It was unexpected."
"I knew it. You really are a bad guy," Sora spat from across the room.
I stopped. My hand froze on the doorknob. Bad guy? The words triggered something dark inside me. I turned around slowly, looking Sora dead in the eyes.
"Hey, Ozawa, stop. Please calm down," Yokota tried to intervene, but I didn't look at him.
"Bad guy?" I muttered, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss. "You're calling me a bad guy, and yet you don't even know me."
I scanned the room, looking at each of them. The "kind" Sora, the "cheerful" Ayame, the "brave" Emi, the "shy" Madoka, and the "calm" Yokota. To me, they weren't people.
They were masks.
"Let me tell you something," I said, pausing to let the weight of my words sink in. "You all are liars. And I hate you all."
I didn't wait for a response. I walked out and slammed the door behind me, leaving the room in a stunned, icy silence.
I should have join Sama When he invited me to join his club I whispered while walking in the school hallway.