Chapter Text
Toko scratched a passage to herself in the margins of her biology notes. It’s not a fantasy about being loved, it read, it’s a fantasy about being in love. The words had been plaguing her all afternoon, and she needed to write them down before she forgot.
“Group three,” her teacher’s voice registered vaguely in her mind, “Leon Kuwata, Sakura Ogami, Byakuya Togami, and Celestia Ludenberg. Your presentation will be on the vermiform cardiovascular system.”
A hollow feeling of disappointment resonated inside her at the fact that she wouldn’t be in his presentation group, but she was having trouble bringing herself to care about even that.”
“Which means group four, Toko Fukawa, Yasuhiro Hagakure, Aoi Asahina, and Makoto Naegi, your presentation topic will be the internal anatomy of the class gastropoda.”
She wrote in the topic and the names of her group mates at the bottom of her mostly-vacant page of notes. Idiots, every one of them. She was going to have to do all the hard work. Toko didn’t know very much about biology, but she could research and create a presentation without much trouble. They would end up presenting and getting all the credit, though.
The bell rang, graciously dismissing her from the tedious class. “Remember, you’ll have one month to work on your presentation. This will count for 20% of your final grade,” the teacher’s voice was lost among the sound of students packing up their class materials. Toko closed her notebook and stuffed it in her backpack when she noticed a figure standing over her.
“Hey, Toko,” said Makoto.
She made a face at him. “What do you w-w-want?”
He looked taken aback. “Uh, we’re in the same group, so I thought I’d collect everyone’s phone numbers so that we could talk outside of school.”
“Yeah, right. I bet y-y-you’re just trying to g-get girls’ phone numbers so you can brag about it.”
His shoulders slumped. She could tell he was already getting sick of talking to her. “It’s not like that!”
Toko scribbled her phone number on a piece of notebook paper, tore it out, and handed it to him. “F-fine. If it gets you to leave me alone.”
“Thanks,” he smiled brightly. She wasn’t sure if it was because he had gotten what he wanted or because he wouldn’t have to talk to her anymore.
She slung her bag over her back. For a moment, she considered trailing Byakuya for a few blocks before going home, but she was tired, and she just wanted to be alone. Toko made her way down two flights of stairs and to the school’s entrance, every pair of eyes on her burning like the end of a cigarette against her skin.
With no driver’s license and no chance of any of her parents picking her up from school, Toko could at least be grateful that the walk home was not too long, especially with the growing chill in the air. Friends and couples clumped together around her, but she preferred to walk alone anyway. On her way, she plucked a few leaves from a birch tree on the outskirts of the park to feed to Kameko.
At the front door, she fumbled with her house key for a few seconds before entering, relieved to find the house empty. She retreated to her bedroom, where she placed the leaves in her stinkbug’s terrarium and fetched her laptop.
Toko opened a word processing file. So Lingers The Ocean, the work-in-progress was titled, a piece about a poor maiden in a fishing town who falls in love with the shipwright’s strong, noble son. She soon lost herself in typing, newly inspired by the line that had appeared in her head that afternoon, pausing only to flinch each time she heard the front door slam shut. The sun had already set before she realized it. She took her phone out of her bag to check the time.
To her surprise, her screen showed multiple unread messages. All of them were from unknown numbers. She scrolled to the top of the group text, showing one unknown number adding her and two others.
Unknown:
Hey, this is Makoto. Thought I’d make a group so we can discuss the project
Unknown:
Yo, this is hiro
Several more messages contained various nonsense from the two idiot boys before the idiot swimmer girl chimed in too.
Unknown:
This is Hina!
Sorry, would’ve responded sooner but i was at swim practice
Toko hesitantly typed out a message and sent it before she could overthink it. The chat would probably end up defunct anyway, with her inevitably doing all the hard work and the charismatic idiots taking the credit, but she filled in their contact information for the sake of convenience. To her surprise, messages started flooding in.
Makoto Naegi:
Great! Do you guys want to meet up after school tomorrow to plan?
Aoi Asahina:
Sure thing but you’d have to wait til I’m done with practice
Makoto Naegi:
That’s fine! How about my place?
Makoto sent his address, and the rest all agreed to the plan. Toko dreaded the idea of spending the afternoon with them, but there was some reassurance that they seemed willing to put in some work. Finally her attention drifted to the time at the top of her phone. It was later than she thought, and she hadn’t eaten anything yet. That was fine; she should probably just get ready for bed.
She changed quickly out of her uniform and into pajamas, being careful not to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Walking to the bathroom, she splashed water on her face and forced herself to brush her teeth, if only for a fraction of the time she knew she was supposed to.
Once the lights were off, she scrambled quickly into bed.
* * *
The next day’s classes dragged on longer than usual without the promise of sweet solitude at the end. Toko forced herself through the motions. She took notes of her teachers’ monotonous lectures, picked unenthusiastically at her lunch, and avoided eye contact as best as she could. In biology, she stared at Byakuya and daydreamed–when would she need any of this when she became an author, anyway?–until the bell mercifully rang.
She packed her bag and left as swiftly as she could. If she had to spend her precious time at her idiot classmate’s house with two even bigger idiots, she would be sure to maximize the freedom she had until then.
There was a nice spot in the shade near the front entrance. She decided to take her things and work there on her own for the hour or so that she had before that idiot swimmer would be done and they’d all have to go work together. Toko removed her laptop from her bag, turned up the brightness, and got to work, typing furiously.
A flood of people rushed past her as she wrote. They were probably staring at her, she just knew it, but she didn’t dare to look up.
Once the mass exodus of the first bell ended, the space was relatively quiet. Toko worked in peace for a while before something interrupted her focus. She felt a presence looming before her. Her eyes snapped up.
“Hi Toko.” Makoto was standing in front of her with a girl she didn’t recognize.
“W-what?”
“Nothing much, we were just–”
“Then why are you s-s-still standing there?”
“I was wondering why you were sitting here alone in the cold instead of going home.”
Her nose wrinkled at the suggestion. “I don’t w-want to go home.”
Makoto smiled. “Then do you want to come over to our house until Hina is done with practice.”
“I don’t want your p-pity invitations either.”
The genuinely hurt expression that crossed his face almost made her regret her words. “It’s not pity. I just thought we could hang out for a little while, or get some brainstorming done before the others show up.”
“Fine,” Toko conceded, “if you s-stop making that hurt puppy face, I’ll come w-with you.”
The girl standing next to Makoto giggled, the first sound she had made during their conversation. It was a sharp, soprano sound, not wholly unpleasant. She stuck a hand out. “I’m Komaru, by the way. Makoto’s my big brother.”
“T-Toko,” she ignored the girl’s obvious invitation to shake her hand.
Makoto led them on the short walk across the parking lot to his car. His sister sat shotgun, and Toko took the backseat, doing her best to ignore the lively conversation between the siblings. Staring out the window in a fashion that she hoped looked dramatic, she noticed that they were driving the same direction that she would normally walk to her own house. She didn’t say anything. If she did, she was sure Makoto would offer to drive her home after classes.
It was a short drive to their house. The front door was already unlocked when they approached. Makoto opened it, and Komaru held it open for her.
“Mom, we’re home,” Makoto called out into the house. “My friend Toko is going to hang out here until the rest of the study group gets here.”
She recoiled instinctively at the use of the word “friend.” Her only real friend was Kameko. Makoto hardly knew her, let alone understanding her like the bug did.
Komaru gestured for her to follow, and she did so without question. They walked together into the kitchen.
“Do you want some tea or something?”
“What kinds do y-you have?”
“We’ve got,” she pulled a few containers out of a cabinet and examined them, “green, black, and herbal rose.”
“Rose s-sounds good.” Komaru made to prepare the tea, but Toko cut her off. “I can m-make my own tea.”
Komaru looked taken back, but she didn’t argue. She simply showed Toko where the kettle and cups were kept and fixed herself a cup of green tea. Drinks in hand, the girls returned to the living room where Makoto was waiting for them. The siblings resumed their blithe chatter just as they had done in the car. Toko drank her tea in silence for a few minutes before pulling her laptop from her bag and opening it up. She tried to work on her writing, but the mindless gossip going on around her distracted her.
“What are you working on, Toko?” Makoto was looking at her with curiosity clear on his face.
“Nothing that c-concerns you.”
“Aww,” Komaru tilted her head, “you don’t want us to know?”
“You w-w-would probably b-both hate it anyway.”
Neither of them pushed the issue any further, but as they continued talking, she could feel their gazes drifting back to her. A lull fell in the conversation.
“It’s a n-novel.”
“Wow,” Komaru exclaimed, “that’s so cool!”
“I don’t need y-you to patronize me.” Toko regretted revealing the contents of her laptop as both siblings proceeded to harass her over the novel. Her tea grew cold on the table in front of her as she was dragged into the discussion against her will.
Soon, a knock at the door rescued her, signalling the arrival of their group mates.