"Alright, rice is..." I lifted the top from the pot, steam emitting in a steady stream from a little hole in the top. Poking at it a little, I decide that I'm satisfied with its sticky consistency. This is rather fortunate, as the rest of the meal is somewhat less-than the ideal I had envisioned. The little sausages, which I had cut to look like little octopi, wanting the lunch to be at least a little bit cute, had instead burned, dark and shriveled and, in my current state of depression, looked rather to me more like a creature of Lovecraft lore than an adorable sea creature. The curried potatoes, which I had cooked for her to provide stamina, looked okay, but upon tasting told of my being too heavy-handed with the spices, and necessitated a quick drink to cool my protesting tongue. I imagined that I would likely have a much harder time cooling my embarrassment if I was to give this kind of meal to Haruka-chan, after she had praised my mother's lunch box so much.
Briefly, I considered buying a convenience-store lunch on my way to school, but immediately knew that wasn't going to work. For one, I had told myself that I was going to be helping Haruka-chan with my own two hands, and I knew she would be uncomfortable if she found I was spending my own money to feed her. For another, I didn't actually have any money to do so at the moment. Turning a reproachful eye to the fare I had prepared, as though it was somehow the food's fault, I turned the same gaze to the clock, as though it was its fault for running so quickly. It was near time for me to get started to school, so there would be no second chances. I ran through a couple of excuses I might try with her, to get her to forgive my "forgetting" lunch today, but they sounded hollow even in my own mind. For that matter, Haruka-chan would just think me careless and inconsiderate if I should forget.
I sighed, and started portioning the meal into two lunch boxes. I topped them both, and wrapped mine in my cheery yellow-green cloth. Folded crisply on the table was a new cloth that Mom had run out and bought yesterday, a deep sage green. I picked it up, and looked at the creases worrisomely, conflicted over where a new cloth would be taken as a sign of consideration to Haruka-chan, or if she would think it an undeserved privilege. Haruka-chan could be sensitive about things like that, sometimes. Erring on the side of safety, I started to unfold and crumple it, trying to make it appear comfortably used. While I did, I heard a crinkle, as of paper, and felt inside the new cloth to find a piece of paper with Mom's loopy, friendly hand on it.
This one is still a masculine color, but you two can still match! Hope you like it, dear,
Mom
I put a hand to my temple. So, she does think I have a boyfriend or a crush now. Dear, how was I going to get out of this? I shook the thought with a toss of my head. That could wait, I needed to get going. I took off my Mom's apron and hung it back on the kitchen door, quickly did a cursory cleaning of the pots and pans (promising that I would wash them properly as soon as I got home), wrapped a larger cloth around the lunch boxes so I could carry both conveniently, and I started off for school. Despite the lackluster effort at cooking, I found myself feeling inwardly pleased; she might not love every bite, but I was providing my Haruka-chan a filling, nutritional lunch, and that was going to count for something.
I happened to pass a large store window on the way to school, but everything within was hidden behind a glare from the low, bright morning sun. I was able to see myself, however, as plainly as I would if the glass were of a mirror. I saw a young girl stepping smartly along, eyes wide and brightly cheerful, a light rosiness to her freckled cheeks, hair unmanageable as always, and the entire image somehow set off by the two lunch boxes held tightly in one hand's grasp, as though she were terrified of losing them. I looked down at my white-knuckled grasp with some surprise, I hadn't realized that I had been holding on so tightly. A little flutter inside told me that I was just nervous; I suppose everybody was the first time somebody was to enjoy something that they made. A small giggle escaped me as I thought about my image in the store window. I really did look as though I was going to school to see somebody I liked.
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Shriek. Groan. Stumble. Flick. Realization. Suppression of desire to obtain hammer. I got my morning off to a routine start, and thought again of needing to find a better routine. I showered luxuriously and made my coffee, then in a moment of silence heard the water dripping in the bathroom. I frowned and wet back to twist at the bath nozzles until the drip stopped and, being dry enough that I wasn't dripping, went ahead and hung my towel back up. My skin prickled with goosebumps as I walked back into the kitchen, a combination of exiting the still-steamy bathroom and my own continuing nervousness about going about unclothed. Preoccupied with that, I picked up my mug and took a quick sip, thinking to get back into routine and warm myself up. The moment the liquid touched my tongue, I blanched and jerked the cup away from my lips, upsetting and spilling a little of the hot coffee on my hand. I growled, biting back an improper curse, and set the cup down more gently before I ran a little cold water over my finger until it felt better. Taking it out, I blew on the reddened flesh and knew that it was going to sting for the rest of the day. A minor discomfort.
I started to apply cream and sugar to my coffee, the bitterness still crinkling my tongue in my mouth. I stopped in the middle, though, thinking. Was I, Suzushiro Haruka, really going to allow myself to be defeated by a simple cup of coffee? My hurt, minor as it was, was still the direct result of my cringing from from mere bitterness. Judging that I had applied about half as much sugar as I usually did, I stopped, and did likewise with the cream. It... wasn't bad. Privately I admitted that I preferred the taste of my old syrupy brew, but the small triumph I felt at being able to handle it buoyed my spirits to the point that I didn't care. Rationalizing further, I realized that I could significantly cut our costs for sugar and cream if I stopped using as much in my coffee, and I felt even more determined. I turned about, and my unbelievably inconvenient quick-growing breasts brushed against the corner of the cabinet I had left open, where the sugar went. My momentary uplift in spirits was dampened by a sudden pain in my equally inconvenient nipple and I winced, putting a hand to my breast and slamming the cabinet door with a growl. I drank the last of my coffee in sullen silence and went to my room to dress. I picked up my bra with a nod of appreciation: not just for shallow body-shaping aesthetics, but a tool of protection. I went through the ritual torture of pulling on my uniform top, repeating to myself: next Friday, next Friday, next Friday. Two weeks would get me more than enough in the way of lunch funds to buy a new uniform. Earlier I had been discontent after realizing that I was going to have to buy the top and bottom as a set, but remembering that I had not had many occasion to see a big-busted woman with incredibly slender hips, I acknowledged that I would probably have need of a bigger skirt by my third year of junior high. It helped my mood to remember Yukino's offer, then. Food, glorious food, of the same caliber that I had consumed yesterday. That would give me something to look forward to all day. Rising, I hastily prevented myself from assuming a posture that was too chest forward and grabbed my brush from my bedside table and combed out what snarls remained, again taking in the shapeliness of my wavy tresses before marching out.
My eyes-forward approach to life was thwarted momentarily by a low rising sun, and I had to momentarily dart my eyes aside. I saw a store, but the window was opaque with glare, and all I saw was my own eyes sitting in my own face. Horrified, I realized that somehow I was wearing some kind of vapid, vaguely cheerful expression. I looked like some airhead dreaming about her useless boyfriend, or something! I quickly wiped the expression off and assumed one much more acceptably studious and determined, as it should be for school.
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I felt almost bad that I didn't pay quite as much attention to my morning classes as I should have, but felt reasonably justified in it. I already felt a barrier between me and the rest of my classmates. I usually did, true, from my own shyness, but now it felt like I was robbed of the ability to bond with the class for an uninterrupted day because of my leaving in the middle, and that barrier felt more insurmountable than ever. I tried not to let it bother me too much, as it wasn't exactly a change, but there had always been a little part of me that hoped for a little circle of friends every year of school, where I could by the quiet, bookish one that occasionally pointed things out that would get mystified looks from them, before everybody just laughed and patted me on the shoulder. It was an oddly specific little dream, but I was bookish, and it was a dream that had been specifically repeated in more than a few stories.
Matters weren't helped today when I thought I saw a few whispers trail across the class as I entered, eyes casually looking over me until they came to the stacked-boxes I carried in one hand, my grip tightening again as I felt eyes upon eyes on me. Really, drifting off into my own thoughts was the best thing I could do, for my own peace of mind. It was only the second day of school in any case, so we weren't really studying anything new yet. I daydreamed with half of an ear absorbing the occasional important bit of lecture and half of an eye on the clock until I was bluntly shown that I needed to keep more than just half of an eye on the clock when the professor called my name.
"Kikukawa-san?" He said, his posture indicating a repetition and the position of his eyebrows telling of mild disappointment in my attentiveness.
"Y-yes! Time for English?" I said quickly, gathering my senses and putting up the things strewn over my desk.
"Quite," he said. "Perhaps an advanced class might stimulate you to fuller awareness when you come back, my apologies for being such a bore." I winced, and flushed, feeling slightly ashamed. There wasn't a good reason for me to be, but I felt a pressing need to try to uplift my teacher's days in a career that often seemed unrewarding, and especially couldn't abide disappointing the ones I liked, and I found myself strangely fond of this embalmed-looking old fellow, perhaps just for the kindness he had shown yesterday. Today, I just brushed past him and my classmate's without meeting anybody's eyes and told myself to do better in the future.
I came upon Haruka-chan's classroom and found it quite; no voice of authority sounded clearly through the door, rather a low murmur permeated the air. Peering in the window, I saw the students talking amongst themselves, and turned a little redder when my eyes turned to meet Miss Nakamura's; she was looking directly through the classroom door's window, as though she had expected me at that very moment. She smiled, an expression reminiscent of sunshine, and I quickly entered the class and scurried to her seat. I looked at the clock, and saw that it was actually a couple of minutes before class was scheduled to begin. I avoided looking at anybody's eyes today, except for Haruka-chan's. She only had a flat, mirthless smile today, though, and just a slight nod to acknowledge my presence. Her eyes perked when they saw the two lunch-boxes, but only for a moment. A suspicion sparked and I glanced over to where Fujino-san sat. Unlike her enclosed and demure posture yesterday, however, the girl from Kyoto had eyes turned right at me. Her eyes gave the eerie impression of being clear and open when they looked at me directly, yet it was the clarity of bullet-proof glass. I could only keep that gaze for a few seconds before I looked away. Though I couldn't pin it down, I felt sure that Haruka-chan had just been embarrassed again.
The rest of the class moved by uneventfully, Haruka-chan seemed to have lost her motivation for participating and Fujino seemed to have thereby lost her own motivation. I, as a matter of course, still refrained from volunteering translations or other participation. While I listened to the class, which was moving along a good deal more swiftly, I assume because they weren't offering a grace period of adjustment to junior high, I took a good look at my own thoughts. Again, I warned myself against judging Fujino-san too harshly. I hadn't even seen her do anything today, I tried to reason against my growing wariness for her person, but that did little to diminish that wariness.
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I simmered for a long while, unfortunately missing out on a good deal of the information in the class while I nursed my stinging ego from the lashing that damnable Kyoto-tea-girl had given it. I also allowed a moment to feel shamefaced for offering Yukino such an uncordial greeting when she came into the class. There was no need to drag her into my battle of wills with Fujino, and I told myself to keep those contests under wraps and away from the concern of my friend. I focused my attention on the lunch she had brought, instead, and fueled my anger into hunger as I let myself imagine enjoying it. For a dreamy moment of nonsensicalness, the thought floated through my mind that I was going to have a hard time eating as quickly as I wanted when I had to share chopsticks. Immediately after, however, I realized that she would have brought another pair, and felt a little foolish. My thoughts turned back to Fujino, then, and wondering how much harder her neck was to snap than a chopstick. Just an entertaining pastime in theoretical physics, of course, there was nothing personal about the scenario.
The English portion of my class ended soon enough, and I managed to catch Yukino's eye as we all rose, she to go back to her regular classes, we to P.E..
"Where should I find you for lunch?" I asked.
"How about the same bench you were napping on yesterday, Haruka-chan?" She replied carefully. Yukino did most things carefully.
"I'll see you, then. Glad we have P.E. next, I can work off a little steam."
"See you later, Haruka-chan."
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I found Haruka-chan there on the bench, and my mild sense of apprehension grew as I approached her and the point of no return. I wasn't even fortunate enough to find her asleep again, so I could quickly throw the boxes into a bush and say a dog had run off with them, or something. No, she was fully awake, and looking happily towards me. I sat down beside her and offered a tentative smile, putting the wrapped bundle between us and, lacking anything better to do, untied it, and offered her the larger, sage-green wrapped one. I felt a moment's pang of sadness; I had really liked sharing a lunch with Haruka yesterday, but today we were each going to have our own meals, and our own set of utensils. I shoved away that thought. Obviously this way was better, after all.
"Yum, Yukino's cooking. I've been looking forward to this all day, you know." She beamed at me, and I resisted the urge to melt and seep through the slats of the bench. Or, at least I assumed I resisted it, because it didn't happen; I'm not sure that I'd have minded that much.
"I hope everything is to your liking, Haruka-chan," I forced myself to say. I watched with dread as she removed the top and picked up the pair of chopsticks inside. She looked for a long--terribly long--moment at the contents, and turned to me with a surprised expression.
"It's perfect!" She said happily. "How did you know that I like my sausages blackened just a little bit?" She picked one out and popped it in her mouth, chewing with a dreamy expression. "It's almost just like dad makes them, when he's around to cook."
"Oh, just a hunch, Haruka-chan."
"And what are these, curried potatoes? Excellent, carbohydrates, just what I need to get through the day." She quickly ate one of those as well, and I cringed, expecting the overt spiciness to cause her face to fall any moment, but if anything it got even more ecstatic.
"Oh my, you are good, Yukino. I love curry spice, and you loaded these up. Whooo!" Haruka fanned at her mouth a little bit, but looked happy, so I wasn't quite sure how to read her expression. She took a few bites of rice, and licked her lips. "Just the kind of solid, protein-and-starch-based meal that I need, and made just the way I like. You do have a gift, Yukino."
I just smiled, unsure how to take the praise with everything having been entirely unintentional, but still happy that she was happy.
"I'm glad you like it, Haruka-chan. It looks like I forgot a beverage, though, and I' not as good with spicy foods. Can I get you anything?"
Haruka-chan looked uncomfortable at the offer and I thought that I might could have found a more tactful way to offer, to spare her pride. While I tried to word a way to resolve the situation, she did so instead.
"Here, I'll just get something big enough to share from the cafeteria." Thankfully, my mind worked pretty quickly today, and I took her hand and put a few yen into it before she could argue.
"Thanks, that'll be nice," I said. "Here's my share in it." I smiled as innocently as I could at her, and to my credit, she smiled back, not appearing at all conflicted. Even more to my credit, I didn't blush at all until she was walking away and couldn't see. No shared utensils, but another indirect kiss today, anyway. I pecked birdlike at my lunch while I thought. They were only indirect kisses, I reasoned with myself; Haruka-chan was the one more concerned with appropriateness, anyway, and if she didn't have a problem with sharing a drink or a pair of chopsticks, there couldn't be anything wrong. Right, and indirect kiss wasn't really anything like a real one, a real kiss with Haruka-chan was silly, and kind of weird. I mean, we were both girls. I laughed aloud, a weak laugh heard only by the tree branches spreading overhead. I imagined Haruka-chan's face blushing like a young girls, her eyes closing, and her lips puckering slightly as she moved close to me.
I laughed again. Yes, that certainly was a strange thought. A funny thought, not really unpleasant, but very much odd. My face felt warm, I realized, and there was an odd feeling in my stomach. The potatoes really must be too spicy for me, I thought.
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I knew that this year was going to be better for having Yukino with me again. The little bit I spent every day to get us something to drink was a fairly paltry amount, and I was still going to have enough for my uniform within two weeks, and was getting fed besides. She had a hard time topping that first meal she'd made for me, but everything tended to be spicy and filling from then on, and I couldn't help but feel that everything would just fall into place from there.
So, in a relatively pleasant fashion, my first week went by. Then, on the Monday morning of the second week, I got my grades back for the quizzes we had taken in that first week. Most of my subjects were in order, but for English. Damn it, I growled, staring at the paper covered in red marks in front of me. I had only myself to blame, letting that hoity-toity witch shake my concentration so often. I struck my desk, drawing the eyes of a few people sitting beside me, but I ignored them, and turned my paper over. No need to give them the satisfaction of seeing Suzushiro Haruka struggling. I caught Yukino's eyes watching me with worry as well, however, and knew that I would have to tell her the truth later. I knew I could keep it from her, but she knew me well enough to know when something was wrong, and that would only make her worry and not know the reason why, I could at least give her something concrete to fret over, and promise her that I'd do better. I sighed. Yukino had probably done fine on the quiz, she was good at this sort of thing. My eyes rolled over to where my nemesis sat, but she had her eyes on her textbook. I could tell she wasn't reading it from the lack of movement in her eyes, but her posture gave her the image of the graceful, studious person. Her paper was nowhere to be seen, but I could only assume that she had gotten a perfect score, and that distinctly worsened my mood. It was something of a gratification to be able to best her in most aspects of physical education, but I knew that sort of thing hardly mattered later in life, and that she didn't seem to try very hard made it a hollow victory. I mentally slapped myself a few times. I knew she couldn't be better than me, that I could be just as intelligent and studious, but it seemed that no matter what I did, she was always a step ahead. Or, in the case of this latest English score, quite a few steps. I had likely been near the bottom rung this time.
Later on in the day, I was probably an undesirable companion for lunch, but I couldn't find sufficient reason to be any more cheerful. Yukino could only stand the silence for a little while before she asked the inevitable question, however.
"Haruka-chan, is there something bothering you?"
"Not really. I wasn't happy with my English quiz score, but that's all," I answered shortly, hoping that would be the end of it.
"Is English a subject that you've had trouble with before?" Yukino asked; it was a little more blunt than my friend usually got, and that took me aback for a moment. I looked at her, and she had a strangely earnest look in her hazel eyes.
"A little bit, but mostly in junior high. That Fujino girl--" I cut myself off, cursing inwardly. I had told myself that I would drag Yukino into that personal matter.
"You think she's distracting you from the lesson?" Yukino persisted.
"It's that obvious?" I answered.
"Maybe just to me, Haruka-chan," she said quietly. My irritation softened in the light of her concern, and I looped my arm protectively around her shoulder.
"Nothing you need to worry your head over, Yukino. There's nothing in the world that Suzushiro Haruka can't do, when she tries. This won't be any different!" I turned to look at her, and was suddenly struck with how much taller than her I was right now. Of course, I had gone through a good deal of development in the last year or so, so she would likely be catching up sooner or later, but for the moment it was a bit jarring. I had to lean forward to get on the same level, and turn my face in to catch her downcast eyes. "So please don't worry for my sake, okay?"
"Alright, Haruka-chan. But..."
"No buts!" I said jokingly, but she shook her head.
"No, not that. I just wanted to say that, er, I think I'm having a little bit of trouble, too. I guess there are still a few things I didn't learn that I would have in first year, even if I'm a little advanced. I was wondering, do you think we might be able to study together some time? I think it would help me a whole lot."
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This wasn't really a lie, I reasoned. I was having a little bit of trouble adjusting to the sudden jump in difficulty in English, but it wasn't anything so far that a little extra studying didn't help. Still, studying with a friend probably would help me, and I knew it would help Haruka-chan. All she needed was an atmosphere where she could learn without pressure. Well, without as much pressure; Haruka-chan was the type who would always be pressuring herself. I could just see her bent over her books at home, furiously studying with one-hundred and ten percent effort, but still letting herself get distracted with thoughts of how others looked at her, especially that Fujino-san. Maybe if I were there to help, I could keep her thoughts off of there, and help her relax just by being her friend. That was my hope, anyway. So, I waited with hushed breath for her answer.
"Uh, sure, if you like. Hey, I think my parents are going to be working late this... Thursday, too. Would it be okay with you to come over then?"
I was silent for a moment. I hadn't ever actually been over to Haruka-chan's house, I had gotten the feeling that she was embarrassed about where she lived when I had inquired a few years ago, and hadn't brought up the matter again. I knew she had moved, recently, though, so maybe she was happier with her place now. And her parents wouldn't be there? Just me and Haruka-chan, all alone for the evening in her house where I had never been?
"Yes!" I said, a little more enthusiastically than perhaps was proper, so I softened my tone. "Of course, Haruka-chan, I would love to."
"Ah, right then. I'll try to pay extra attention in class, so I can help out with anything you need then.