Chapter Text
The next attempt, well—
“Do you want me to massage your shoulders?”
“Should I get you a drink?”
“Maybe lick your shoes?”
“Or—”
“Do you want to take a picture of my face and use it as your wallpaper?”
The next attempt doesn’t go very well.
…Shouko doesn’t really want to talk about it.
(There is something about the way Agari-san bounds up to her—starry-eyed and fever-faced, as if reality is not the sight before her—that presses Shouko’s toes flat against the sole of her shoes. She knows what to make of this.)
(She’s not uncomfortable; she’s just disappointed.)
(No, that’s a lie. She is uncomfortable, just a little, by how quickly Agari-san jumped to her own conclusions. Unsettled, perhaps? She certainly does not see Agari-san as a pet of all things, nor does she want to. All she’s ever wanted is a friend.)
(is that too much to ask?)
(For as much as it rankles, Shouko cannot do anything about this conundrum. As it is now, she cannot even get something as simple as a phone number on her own; let alone resolve a complete misconstruction of self.)
(And even then— should she try to fix this? It’s only a day into…whatever their relationship qualifies as. She knows full well how terrifying novelty is; how tempting it is to sink into the embrace of your own misconceptions. Shouko’s done that herself—for years, in fact. She accepted that she was too boring to approach; accepted that she was too scary to want around. But…that isn’t true, now is it? Tadano didn’t find her boring; he would have never been able to hold a full conversation with her, let alone every day. Tadano didn’t find her scary either; in fact, she still finds herself at awe with how at ease he is with her—perhaps more than he is with anyone else in their class, excluding Najimi.)
(and there are those sometimes—where his shoulders are tense and his eyes are wild—but something deep within her knows that it’s not her: it’s something else. it’s something that he carries with him, the same way she carries her silence—something that lingers.)
(It was lonely, sure, but it was easy being alone; to know exactly why she was, and would continue to be, alone. To have the reasons and rationale lined up like books on a shelf, their pages soft from use—everything as it should be: neat and orderly. Comforting.)
(So if Agari-san found comfort in this, Shouko would let her. Tadano had uprooted her whole world—abruptly, gently—Shouko does not have the finesse to do the same. She can only hope that Agari-san will realize with time.)
(And if Agari-san truly desires to be her…pet, then maybe Shouko can learn to accept that.)
(But still…)
(It’s a bit lonely.)
(will they all be like this?)
When Shouko turns away from Agari-san, the empty space of the classroom seems to stretch for miles.
She hurries to Tadano’s side.
“You did great, Komi-san! Now you have Najimi’s number!” His voice washes over her like a balm.
Shouko’s insides churn.
On the one hand, she feels like preening because she did, didn’t she—get Najimi’s phone number all on her own, that is. She got the message across; she expressed herself; she finally did it.
(And Tadano’s praise feels like a warm sunbeam across her face and soul; she could really get used to this—)
But at the same time—
She’d just failed at getting Agari-san’s, and she knows that Tadano’s standing right in front of her, but he feels so far away.
She holds her phone up to him in offering, but her head is hung low.
please…
He tilts his head in confusion. Her arms sink back down to her sides, hands clenched around her phone.
She’s so tired. She just wants him to get her.
She chews the inside of her cheek in frustration.
A loud cry sends a jolt up Shouko’s spine. She turns to look behind her.
“I-I’m so sorry!! You wanted my phone number right?! I misunderstood your intentions…! Of course you’d want my number, it’s easier to call your dogs that way!!”
Agari-san stops in front of Shouko, winded from her run. She holds out a slip of paper.
“Komi-san wants Tadano-kun’s phone number to be the first one entered into her contacts list, so write yours on a piece of paper instead.”
“—is what Najimi said, so here you…go.”
The room goes silent.
On the one hand, Shouko feels like pouting because she did, didn’t she—spill Shouko’s plans to Tadano, that is. She got the message across; she ruined her chance at saying it herself; she was the one who told Tadano.
(And Tadano deserved better than to find out secondhand; she almost feels the urge to sink her teeth in and bite—)
But at the same time—
She’d just failed at getting Tadano’s, and he’s still standing right in front of her, but he still feels so far away.
She holds her eyes to his and begs him to understand.
please…
She stares at him. He looks back.
A myriad of emotions flicker in his eyes, faster than she can decode. Swirling shades of inky darkness, like sludge across water, until, suddenly, it breaks. A rosy-fingered dawn against open windows.
His face turns red. She looks away: flustered rose, delighted gold, and bitter green. Her toes are drumming away in her shoes.
“I-Is that so…?” He mutters, hand on his elbow.
She nods, eyes on the floor.
(She thought she would be more excited when she got his phone number, it’s just—)
(it’s just…)
(just a little embarrassing… just a little)
Her eyes drift towards Tadano, soaking in his sunset face.
(Cute.)
She snaps her gaze back at her feet.
“I’ll just…” He shuffles a little closer and holds out his arm. She does the same.
Their fingers bump. Tadano’s arm jerks back, phone in hand. Shouko stares at the closet near the door, wondering if there’s enough space in there to hide.
Various blips and beeps fill the air. They still haven’t looked at each other.
“H-Here…” He reaches out to hand her the phone. She takes care to only grab the corner.
She opens the phone again, staring at her new contact page in awe. Here it is—her first friend’s phone number, tucked away where she will always be able to find it.
Mine.
She resists the urge to hug her phone to her chest and squeak.
(But only barely.)
A smile curves up her lips. She doesn’t stop it. Her toes settle into a gleeful patter.
“Gh—”
Her eyes trail up, head still bowed over her phone.
Tadano’s face is still red. She can almost see the steam rising from his face.
“!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
Shouko-chan squealed in her heart.