Chapter Text
The lights of the gymnasium shimmer with expectation. High GPA, theory-heavy major, and a large build up.
“As a student union, I have the vision to make this campus more lively and human. When times are stressing, we will pitch in and make this campus from you, for you and to you! We’ll always listen to your voice, as it matters for the campus!”
I feel the anxiousness bubble inside me. My hands are sweaty, it’s sticky. Everyone is watching. Everyone is expecting.
“My mission as a student union is to be more open with the students, working translucently—-transparently, I mean.”
My tongue slips over my teeth, not only making a mistake in the script but also letting out an involuntary spit into the microphone. God, that’s embarrassing. Everyone is watching. Everyone is expecting.
“And—and my other mission is—-” I spoke nervously.
I had forgotten the script. And they are watching. Everyone is watching. Everyone is expecting. Everyone is watching. Everyone is expecting. Everyone is watching. Everyone is expecting. Everyone is watching. Everyone is expecting.
Including him.
Sophomore year, I had tried to be more open. I’m not as smart as people think, and I can’t live up to expectations or potential. I am me, and sometimes that is not enough.
I can’t interact with people like how popular girls do. They laugh, they tease and suddenly, everybody likes them. Or not. Depends.
At least I know that people like me honestly. But I can’t go up to a person and start laughing and teasing and suddenly, we’re friends.
It goes more like this; I walk up to the person, I stammer words and say whatever is in the back of my mind. For someone who majors in English, for someone who writes essays and analyzes poetry for education; I can’t speak for my life.
Even with those weaknesses, I strive for connection, and I did get one! Compared to last year, I had been making great progress and expanding my social circle. Starting from a small circle of people in my English class who read manga, it became a mix of majors from my dorm and other people’s roommates’ roommates.
So, I am completely assured that I will get into the student council this year. I swear it.
Ring!---The alarm clock screams at Reader; time to get back to work. The cushion narrows as Reader sits back on her chair. She gets back to studying for the Student Association Candidate season. Her eyes land on her window, it’s winter. Sometimes, she feels a pull from her heart, wanting to go outside and make snow angels. She does not, she sits a little bit straighter. She is not a little kid needing to go outside.
Snow is falling and the temptation to snuggle in bed is strong.
The need to be in the Student Association is stronger, so she remains.
She goes through a stack of papers—highlighted, summarized and reviewed—and starts to re-read them for the fourteenth time this week.
“You didn’t get in?” her mother spat. The anger is painted brutally on her face, like a past soul passing on the pain. It’s ugly and tiring to watch, her mother’s furrowed eyebrows, the downturned lips and the disappointment reflecting on her eyes.
“I didn’t—my campaign was kind of bad and—-”
“So? Was that a reason to fail?”
If the words were delivered with the hope of it being courage, the arrow landed badly. Reader shivers at the cold words piercing her heart. She sees herself in the reflection of her mother’s eye. She’s pathetic.
“You could’ve been better,” her mother starts.
“That was my best!” she cuts off, wanting to defend her efforts.
“Well it wasn’t enough, I can clearly see it. Since middle school, it looked like you didn’t even try to get in. High school, you didn’t even sign up. Was that a rebellion?” her mother’s face curls in anger, her hand raised in motion.
It feels hollow. Being squeezed of your efforts for so long, and still being wanted more. It’s a vacant space of who she should be. It’s a bottomless pit you can’t satisfy, acting on autopilot like your life isn’t yours.
You’re watching yourself through a movie scene. You’re not living in it.
Everyone is watching, everyone is expecting.
“Answer me!” a slap across her face wakes her up. Her palm immediately covers the spot, trying to soothe the punishment she thinks she deserves. “I–It’s not—It wasn’t rebellion, I just—I was tired and I couldn’t—,” Reader choked the words out, her throat inflamed with white, boiling anger she couldn't swallow.
“Just because you were tired doesn’t mean you couldn’t push through! Have I not taught you perseverance? Have you seen Mr. Tadashi’s kid?! He had a broken leg last year and with perseverance, he healed in five months, became captain of his volleyball team and even ranked first in his whole year!”
She continues to shout, “Have I not taught you well? Are you saying that your failure is my fault?”
“I didn’t say that–Mom, I didn’t—-” she was cut off.
“You’re not saying it, but you’re sure showing it. Aren’t you supposed to pay me back? The debt of gratitude? Oh, are you saying I don’t deserve it?”
“[Reader]! Have you eaten your cut fruits?!”
She gasps like she was pulled out of the water after drowning for so long. Even then, she still feels like she’s being pulled by the water. “No–I haven’t!” she calls back.
It seems that studying won’t end with success, and she’s kind of tired.
She groans as she stretches and gently jumps into her bed. She pulls out her phone to see multiple notifications from her dearest friend; Yosano.
angel akiko !!
I see your cursor on the shared Google Document.
Are you done studying.
The candidate test is still a month away.
Do you want to research malpractice with me.
She groans, reading the messages and trying to form a thought on how her dear friend Yosano even came up with plans like this.
You
no I do not want to research malpractice
angel akiko !!
Oh, it’s alright.
You
lowkey pissed at my mom right now like this bitch just can’t find superglue to shut her mouth
angel akiko !!
I have gorilla glue in stock, would it be okay?
I can bring you some tomorrow.
She stares at the text message with horrific dismay. She thinks about pressing the call button, afraid to annoy Yosano’s day.
A second later, Yosano answers Reader’s call.
“Akiko, do you want to know what my mom even said to me?” Yosano doesn’t answer. Yosano probably doesn’t even care, but Reader knows she does. “What?” Yosano asked, her voice flat.
“Just a week ago, I got my poetry test done, it was pretty easy for me but turns out I got an 89,” Reader grumbles in annoyance. “89 is pretty good, coming from my class, if you even get a 50 that’s already something to celebrate,” Yosano chuckles.
“Well you’re in medical studies, of course it’s a celebration,” Yosano can feel Reader rolling her eyes. “The thing is, it’s a shame that I couldn’t round it up to 90, even though I already begged my teacher!”
“And the worse thing is, I ran into Ranpo yesterday and he found out about the grade!” Reader groans loudly enough to be in a sex tape. Reader is aware of the author’s horrible analogies. “I don’t even know how he did it, he just said; I’m the best detective in the world, of course I know! Not to mention I’m galaxies smarter than you,” she mocks with a sneer.
“He is pretty smart, I have to admit,” Yosano murmurs. Yosano is pretty close to Ranpo, but she doesn’t mind Reader’s heavy insults towards him. In fact, Yosano finds it entertaining.
“Okay, I know he’s smart,” Reader admits with a hint of sadness. “He’s galaxies smarter than me, I know that. He just—excels at everything I don’t. He has the charm, he’s confident in his every word, and I just can’t keep up with him.”
“Okay, now you’re the one repeating his ridiculous antics,” Yosano’s remark snaps Reader out of her spiral.
“Do not compare me with him, the thought of it actually makes me shiver,” Reader huffs.
“He’s galaxies smarter than me—” Yosano’s attempt at a faux mockery was cut off by Reader’s howls. “Okay, it actually sounds a bit corny, stop that,” Reader whines.
“Even though I normally suggest hours of studying as a torture method to my group members whenever they piss me off, you might be overthinking. You should rest,” Yosano adds.
“Akiko, you’re not my mom, who are you to tell me—” “I am going to be a doctor, so I suggest that you rest or else I break off your fingers so that you can’t even lift a single page,” Yosano’s voice feels like a crisp, bitter bite that pierces through your skin.
“You know what, I agree,” Reader knows despite the cold, harsh execution, Yosano means well.
“Alright then, I’m currently leaving for my class, so I’ll talk to you later. Goodbye,” Yosano says. “Oh okay, bye!”
Yosano ends the call with the slightest bit of confusion. She thinks that Reader is smarter than she realizes. Reader had held up a pretty good GPA for her first year in college, and that is something to be prideful of. Who is the one spouting nonsense in her ear for her to believe she is inferior?
Surely if that person made Reader this sad, Yosano can pitch in the knowledge she has and make death the fairest judge of all. Not really, she won’t actually kill that person just because she doesn’t like to go to prison.
Yosano believes that Reader can fully reach her potential if she wanted to, and if she didn’t, that is her choice. In the end, the only thing you get out of this is a degree.
Weeks go by as the campus becomes more lively. The sun pierces through Yosano’s curtain blinds, but she has been up since yesterday. Being a medical student calls for a lot of overtime studying, even though sleeping is one of the lifestyle factors to being healthy. It’s kind of ironic, but Yosano doesn’t want to fail anyways.
Yosano packs her bag neatly; laptop, notebooks, ipad and other essentials were already inside, but she feels as if something was missing. Yosano looks around her dorm, her gaze landing on her desk. The kit!
As the ‘kit’ was picked up, Yosano brushes her thumb over the compartments; a small blade, pepper spray and pretty brass knuckles. She favors that brass knuckle, adorned with gold butterflies that matched her hair clip.
Yosano walked through the campus, questioning the architecture that built the dorms so far away from her classes. Before she walked up the stairs, she saw a familiar curl of black hair dash across the hallway.
The girl was running to reach the classroom on time. The classroom had white paper that was taped to the door with the words signed; Student Association Candidate Test.
This time, Yosano runs to that class. She scans the room to greet Reader.
“Is this the general knowledge test?” She asks.
“Yeah! And my candidate number is my yumeship’s favorite number!” Reader giggles nervously.
“Of course, It’s always about your yumeship.”
“Well, if it works, it works,” Reader added. Yosano opens her bag and reaches a small item from the safety pocket.
“Here,” she hands Reader a bottle of pepper spray. The bottle was wrapped in paper so bright you can’t help but read the label; CONQUER YOUR ENEMIES! LEVEL 12 PEPPER SPRAY. ECONOMIC PRICE BUT WILL ADVISE A 2M RADIUS OF PURE BRUTALITY!!!!!
Even I feel bad for whoever I should spray this on. Reader thinks.
“Just in case someone tries to cheat you off, just spray them. The button is right there. Try not to accidentally spray it on yourself,” Yosano ends with a small, genuine smile.
“That’s…reassuring. I guess,” Reader accepts the protective gift with a small chuckle.
Reader walks in the classroom, taking in the scenery. Everyone is watching. Everyone is expecting. Her hands are a bit clammy from the anxiety, and she’s afraid it will affect how she writes or something. Is everything graded? I hope not—-do they pay attention to posture?
After that thought, Reader immediately straightens. Her finger fiddles with the candidate paper, number five.
Her eye glances up to see the seat she’s seated beside.
Ranpo Edogawa.