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“So, Nozomi, and Eli, they…”
Nico shook her head in affirmation. Oh, what a life this band was living with all of its teenage angst.
“She's never had that many friends, if you didn't already know.” Hanayo intently followed every word that fell out of Nico’s mouth. “Non-tan went to some middle school in another prefecture, probably. Hell, her accent alone will tell you something there.”
Why was Nico blabbing to her, of all people? Couldn't the ticking time bomb hold out for just a few more months?
Nonetheless, the dynamite had been lit on the sidewalk as they sat, their legs too heavy to drag themselves into the shade.
“Did she tell you that?”
“Oh, hell no. You know how it is!” Raising her hand to her face, Nico blocked out the glaring sun. Practice was over, so why torment herself? “She's only opened up to a single person in her life, and that's the queen bee with a dance degree.”
If Hanayo had more guts, maybe she'd comment that no, Eli didn't have a degree, or no, she didn't know how it is.
“I don't snoop in trench coats like I do with everyone else. It's all stuff I overhear, ya know?”
Nod nod. (That's all she could offer.)
“But, I… I get worried about her.”
“I think we all are,” she finally sighed. What was she even agreeing to? “Is Eli… is she good to her?”
“Eli’s hard, but they try to, ya know, make it work.”
A moment of silence for every last shard of sense she had on this topic.
“Hard?”
“Oh, don't tell me you don't get it, Pana,” she accused with a thud as she launched herself into a resting position on the concrete. (Considering how much that hurt, resting may not be the best word.)
“Nozomi’s favorite pastime is trying to fool everyone into thinking she has herself figured out,” Nico continued. “It’s easy to see through it if you look.”
“B-but-"
“And Eli’s is making it seem like she has her situation under control. Not a great combination when the iceberg hits.”
No sound is more distinct than rubber shoes scraping against concrete, and no sight is better than your senior reaching out a hand to help you up.
Hanayo took it.
The school uniform was starting to fit a little better, the seams no longer ripping through Hanayo’s skin and leaving red marks in the parts of her body she hated the most. Yet, this was only temporary euphoria, she realized when a familiar face came out of the bathroom stall.
“You look very pretty today, Hanayo!” Unzipping a quaint little bag, she smiles.
“T-thank you, Kotori! You too.” She meets her own gaze in the mirror to avoid the other. A pesky strand of hair pops up- she brushes it aside.
“Hanayo, how do you get people to like you?”
Tile presses against hard soles. Hanayo takes in (and subsequently loses) a shaky breath.
“Sorry- nevermind! It was a silly question~” and without another breath, she's been abandoned for the bell. “See you at practice, Hanayo!”
The halls were vacant aside from the sole girl running through them- and the crash as she falls to the floor. That'll bruise. Hanayo, while praising God almighty that she wore her contacts, shuffles her hands across the ground in an attempt to lift herself up as her eyes dart around. Not as if there would be anything to blame besides her complete lack of coordination.
Oh, and that piece of plastic. Well, not plastic- lamination, which hid a (now slightly crumpled) sheet of paper. Sheet music to be precise, but movement two of their current show to be exact; the flute part.
‘Ah, Kotori must have dropped this!’ Looking down at the paper and smiling instinctively because she was actually going to be useful, Hanayo realized-
“Oh wait. I'm late.”
A moment of silence- three, two, one-
“RUN!”