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Atsushi was actually going to die at this rate! Maybe it was God's punishment for her half-hearted prayers growing up. That was the only possible explanation as to why she was being preyed upon by demons.
She had been keeping to herself this school year, making sure not to go on someone's shit list like her bandaged senior. If everyone at the orphanage all collectively made a vow to ignore her every single day, surely her schoolmates would follow. Right?
Of course, it was impossible to avoid the occasional scowl from that Akutagawa prick. Or the weird looks from the oddly hierarchical associations at her academy. Or the death threats detailing what would happen to her rotting corpse if she kept on being friends with the school heartthrobs.
So, all in all, not her fault for attracting the attention of two total bullies!
The first time Atsushi noticed what was going on, she naively brushed it off as a one-time thing. The incident occurred when she was in the middle of delivering some papers to Oda-sensei's literature class.
~
It wasn't every day that Atsushi walked around the school by herself. About a month ago, the student council lost their hall pass. Although everyone knew that the actual reason was that Dazai had accidentally flushed it down the toilet while trying to skip class, they hadn't gotten a new pass from the office since then.
All this meant that only certain people in the student council were allowed to go door to door. It was honestly embarrassing the number of times she got lost due to Ranpo having to accompany her, the man being a trusted third-year who could go around the academy without a pass. Atsushi still didn’t consider it a fault on her end when they got reprimanded by the teachers after Ranpo had trashed candy wrappers all over the floor. Luckily for her, however, the reliable Kunikida quickly registered a temporary hall pass into the system to make her day smoother.
Atsushi's footsteps rang alone in the hallways. It truly wasn't often that she had such soothing luxuries. The student council room was constantly filled with noise from her immature senpais, the orphanage had walls thin enough for a matron to hear whispers from across the building, and her homeroom teacher thought it was funny to put her seat right in between two of the most rowdy dudes in the grade.
Thus, she decided to enjoy the peace while she still could.
…
…
… She spied with her little eye, the windows that were left streaky from the lazy cleaning job that Dazai carried out, who had been forced into that job by Kunikida. She spied with her little eye, the outside that seemed to be beaming from the sun's energizing rays. She spied with her little eye, the person staring at her- the person?
Atsushi quickly turned around to confirm whether or not she had seen correctly, which then scattered all of the papers she was holding down onto the ground.
“Gah!” She immediately bent over to gather all of the loose sheets, mentally reprimanding herself for the misstep.
“Pardon me. Do you want some help with that?”
Stunned, Atsushi's hair whipped and tossed around as she turned to take a closer look at the foreign-looking student, who had appeared right behind her.
The student rested her arms behind her back, which could be a pose befitting an old grandpa or a serial killer hiding a knife. It showed off the girl's uniform, showcasing her senior status and a couple of novelty pins methodically stacked up one another. They all seemed pretty impressive-looking, if you were to ask Atsushi. Speech and debate, chess, and computer science were just to name a few of the subjects this person seemingly aced at.
A pale hand was already reaching out from behind to grab one of the sheets.
“I… Yeah, sure, go ahead,” Atsushi replied, her brain still processing what had just occurred. The odd stranger only grinned at her words, her dark bangs falling just so to hide her upper face from view.
In the end, the papers were light work for the two, Atsushi and…
The girl was already leaving!
“Wait, thanks for helping me out there, man,” she managed to call out before the mysterious student could leave her sight. “Um, what's your name?”
“Call me Fyodor,” was the smooth response. Fyodor, as Atsushi now knew, looked to have changed directions and started walking back towards her.
“Oh, I don't need anything else, I– what are you doing.” Atsushi tried to keep a straight face but failed, her shock extremely evident by raised eyebrows and widened eyes.
She could only gawk as Fyodor went down on one knee, carefully holding her hand as if it were a delicate piece of glass, before proceeding to kiss the back of her trembling hand.
“Perhaps you'd care to join…no, it's not the time for that yet…” Fyodor noiselessly mumbled before standing back up and slipping her way out, her bluntly cut hair slightly bouncing with the movement.
It was only following that encounter, at which Atsushi was rendered speechless, that she remembered to ask Fyodor why she was staring at her. Though, in Atsushi's own defense, the kiss was probably, hopefully, a clever sort of distraction that the girl utilized to get out of future detention.
The second instance occurred during lunch.
~
It was honestly a bit embarrassing for Atsushi to admit, but she never fully memorized the bell schedule. Sitting in front of Ranpo meant that she immediately knew when lunch was about to start, mostly evident by his sugar-induced jittering.
Atsushi looked around as she stood waiting in the lunch line.
As per usual, she couldn't find Akutagawa anywhere in the cafeteria, as he always brought his own lunch to eat. Thankfully, she also couldn't see Dazai, who was definitely busy bugging Akutagawa into giving him a bite of his food. More importantly, however, Kyouka was missing from her sight. This meant that the younger girl was most likely attending an origami club meeting. One little glance at her usual place where she'd eat proved to further discourage her. Without Kyouka and her natural menacing face guarding Atsushi's table, a group of students quickly took it over. Atsushi could see Tachihara's fiery hair poking out of the crowd, Teruko furiously waving her hands up in the air, and Jouno batting at Tecchou's astoundingly bouncy ahoge.
Maybe they would let her sit with them? She imagined what would happen if she tried to squeeze over on that table…
“Hi! My name's Atsushi. Can I just–” Unfortunately, Atsushi’s next words were cut off, even in her own made-up scenario.
“Hm? Who is this girl?” a mocking voice called out.
“I just said that my name was-”
“President Teruko-san, perhaps you would know?”
“Haha, nope! Now, scram,” a high-pitched, ringing shot back. Seeing Atsushi's signature frozen-in-terror pose, she continued on. “Now!”
… Yep. Definitely not worth attempting!
After making up her mind, she finally made her way to the rooftop with her lunch in hand.
It was a relatively breezy day, Atsushi being forced to move her singular long lock out of her face every now and then due to the wind. The rooftop was, as per usual, sparse with students. Only a select few were aware that none of the staff bothered to lock the doors to the rooftop. Atsushi herself only knew of the spot because of Dazai, who constantly took advantage of the rooftop being unmonitored. Mostly so he could run away from class. And detention. And Kunikida. And his dad. And basically everything else in his life.
Atsushi sat on a shaded bench and set her tray aside. She couldn't wait to dig into the aromatic grilled fish and– huh?
From the corner of her eye, long pale hair flowed through the wind. It honestly looked like something out of an anime opening. Or maybe a character introduction for a sexy villain. Yeah, maybe it was time to stop binge-watching anime with Kyouka.
Atsushi briefly entertained the idea that it was her Jouno nightmare (daymare?) coming into reality. As if. In an instant, she placed that idea in the back of her head. That person could be needing her help at this very moment! Nobody in their right mind would even think of going to the rooftops, so that person had to be in some sort of weird situation! Bullying? Oh no, what if they were planning to-!
A-Ah, but her fish…
The girl now had an inner battle with herself, one side urging her to go find the person with white hair, and the other side telling her to finish eating.
Arghh! She didn't want to pick! Atsushi clutched the longest chunk of her hair and used it to cover her face out of stress.
For some reason, she woke up a minute too late for breakfast at the orphanage. Atsushi had to rush to the academy, and while she really could have just walked, she didn't want to keep Kyouka waiting at the school gates for too long.
A cold, black-painted nail grazed her shoulder, forcing an abrupt stop to her endless thoughts. What the hell?!
Before Atsushi could do a one-eighty to see what ghost had touched her, a chilling tone spoke to her.
“My name is Shibusawa Tatsuhiko. I am a third-year transfer student from a nearby private school,” the pale girl announced. Shibusawa's head was perched right on top of Atsushi’s shoulder – having to slouch down due to the undeniable height difference – resulting in her tight-knitted braids cascading down. From Atsushi’s peripheral vision, she could see piercing crimson eyes staring directly into hers.
Oh god, oh god! Was this how she'd meet her end? C'mon, Atsushi, think of something!
“I-I shouldn't be talking with a third year – you know? – I'm just a second-year,” Atsushi sweated, trying too hard to seem casual for it to appear believable. She was ninety-nine percent sure that her legs were trembling.
“But I thought you'd talked to a lot of third years before? How am I any different?” Shibusawa responded, her thin eyebrow arched with skepticism. Atsushi could feel Shibusawa's hand trickle down from her upper body, inducing at least three full-body shivers.
“W-Wuhh? HOW do you know THAT??”
“Do you really need to know? You're so skittish, trying to answer my questions with a question,” she muttered, her eyes slowly closing out of pure relaxation.
With a tense posture, Atsushi delivered a reluctant laugh, “Ehe, I kinda do need to know?” Internally, she was praying to every deity she knew for help. Anything that could get her out of this situation. God, she'd even take Dazai appearing on the rooftops for a surprise suicide. Matter of fact, she'd join him and turn it into a double suicide! Like that one song he always sang!
Nyan nyan nyan nyan nya nya nyan nyan nya nya nya nya nya nya nyan nyan
A symphony of meows rang from her flip phone, freezing the awkward conversation. Yes! Atsushi could feel her tears change from ones born of great terror to great relief. Never in a million years could she mistake that ringtone for something else. Someone was calling her!
Feigning embarrassment, Atsushi swiftly spoke, “I'm sorry, I should take this. Like, right now, okay? Okay, bye!”
Shibusawa could only witness Atsushi speeding down the stairs, nearly tripping on one of the steps as she made her way out.
“Did I do something wrong...?” She tilted her head in confusion. Red eyes stared flat at the surface Atsushi was at just a second ago. “Maybe next time, I shall come with a gift to soothe her endless worries. That tiger painted onto her water bottle, perhaps a dragon sticker to complete the dance?”
~
“Do you hear me? It's not my fault, Dazai-senpai. I've done nothing to encourage this sort of behavior from the student body, okay?”
Dazai only smiled, his annoying face brighter than ever, “See, I think that it's just the stress getting to you, Atsushi-chan. You know, you might just end up like Kunikida-kun if you keep this up~” His fingers danced a disgusting little wiggle as he said the last part.
“Don't even try!” Atsushi cringed, her plastic bottle spilling a splash of water due to her tight grip. “Oh, and, did I forget to mention that one time Fyodor…”
~
The high school swim unit in P.E.
Nobody was excited about it. Not the teachers, administration, cleaning staff, and especially not the students. Zero, nada, zilch. Atsushi has even heard horror stories from her upperclassmen.
Nevertheless, the class was required to graduate. Even if Atsushi didn't want to get her certificate, she had to be there for Tanizaki-san. Due to Naomi's duties as the student council treasurer, she was unable to attend P.E. This left the Tanizaki brother feeling anxious, prompting Atsushi to at least try to reassure him. One thing led to another, and Atsushi was somehow sworn, by a pinky promise, to be with him once the swimming unit started. Not that she was complaining! She was glad to have someone to talk to.
Well, the swimming unit was finally in season.
Shortly after her last class ended, Atsushi ran over to double-check her locker to see if she still had her plain one-piece and towel. It wasn't as if the teacher in charge of her P.E. class was cruel. Tsujimura-sensei was an understanding person, so realistically, it wouldn't have been a big deal if Atsushi did end up forgetting her clothes. That being said, it still didn't ease her in the slightest. For some reason, Atsushi had a gut feeling that her first day of swimming would go wrong.
As reassured as one could be, she left the locker room to find Tanizaki-san.
“Tanizaki-san, you're still here?” Her voice echoed through the unusually empty corridors, a rare sight.
“Yep, right here,” Tanizaki sighed as he was waiting for her out on one of the benches. “My parents don't want me outside without someone they trust. Stupid, I know, but Naomi's not here, so I had to wait for you,” he let out a weak attempt at what looked like a friendly smile. “So! Wanna walk home with me? We do live pretty close together!”
“Sure, I could have someone to be with before getting my ear talked off by the headmaster”
The two exited the school. They walked alongside each other in awkward silence until they reached the convenience store.
“Huh. I was gonna say something, but I forgot,” Atsushi blurted out.
“Was it about school?” Tanizaki asked.
“No,”
“Was it about Dazai-senpai??” Tanizaki buzzed in.
“Never,”
“Was it about the orphanage..?” Tanizaki used his final guess.
“I remember now,” gears started moving inside her head, “It was this one time when the orphanage director wrangled up all the children to teach us about abortions,” Her eyes had a strange, reminiscent gleam as she motioned her words into reality with her hands.
“What?”
“The issue was, I didn't know what abortions were. I've only ever seen it used in books with phrases like ‘Commander, abort mission now!’ so I thought that he was teaching us how to safely leave a situation. ‘Cause of that, I thought for a way-too-long amount of time that falling off the stairs was an acceptable way to avoid talking to someone. I mean, if you do it correctly, it'd work, right? Right?” Atsushi looked around, as if searching for approval. “Anyways, that's why I didn't really bat an eye at Dazai-senpai's talk of suicide when I first met him.”
“...You thought that Dazai-senpai was just fixated on abandoning conversations?” Tanizaki's hands raised to cover his mouth as he spoke. Despite the oversized sleeves covering most of his face, it still betrayed a hint of judgment.
“When you put it like that, yeah. If only the world worked that way. I'd use it to get out of swimming. Just swallow enough chlorine in the pool and pray.” Atsushi's eyes drifted off into space, envisioning how such a plan would go. Soon enough, she completely closed her eyes, trusting both Tanizaki and her other senses to guide the way.
“Augh, don't remind me of swimming. I'm actually done for…”
“Hey, we've had swimming classes since elementary. It won't be that bad, yeah?”
“That's not the bad part! Elementary school didn't have people like Akutagawa; he’s so going to make fun of me! Also, our junior high skipped swimming. I don't even want to think about what Tsujimura-sensei's gonna say to my flailing,” Tanizaki tossed his arms up in the air in despair, only to have his mouth swiftly covered by Atsushi's hands.
“Wait, did you just hear that? The rustling?” Atsushi opened her eyes and blinked about as she whispered. She's had heightened hearing ever since she was young, which apparently came from her parents. Another yay from the biological parents who abandoned their child at an orphanage. It was one of the more difficult symptoms to deal with, which quickly became clear with the crying babies at the orphanage scratching against her eardrums day and night. However, it was at this moment that Atsushi began to think otherwise. There was something in the bushes.
~
“Just some noise? C'mon, Atsu-chan, we live in Yokohama. That could just be a lost cat or the weekly criminal from Suribachi! The type Ranpo catches for breakfast,” Dazai groaned. “How is my own junior cheesier than me? That should be a crime~ I'll have you know that I worked blood, sweat, and tears for my reputation!”
“You did participate in the school's slam poetry event that one time. Chuuya for sure wanted to kill you when you started screaming right in the middle of your reading,”
“He doesn't appreciate true art, I tell you! That shrieking perfectly described how I felt when I first saw his, yikes, ugly mug,”
“Okay, okay! Shh, I wasn't done with what I was trying to say, let me finish…”
~
“H-Hey, Atsushi-kun? You know how much I appreciate and love you, right?” Tanizaki stuttered through his words.
“Er, yeah? Tanizaki-san, you're too young to try and pull a Dazai on me.”
“LIGHT SNOW!”
“Tanizaki-san! Are you even taking me seriously?!” Atsushi stomped her foot out of annoyance. Her arms were crossed all the while; her long, sharp fingernails digging into her armwarmers. “When I told you not to pull a Dazai on me, I wasn't talking about the cringy middle school chuunibyo with bandages all over his face! I was talking about the current suicidal Dazai who texts you at three A.M. before hanging himself,” She rolled her eyes, the noise from earlier completely forgotten as she looked around for the missing ginger.
“Where did you even–” Atsushi stared dead at the trembling bush. She couldn't tell if its leaves were shaking out of fear or laughter. Maybe Tanizaki thought he was slick, holding up those tree branches to disguise himself with the surrounding greenery. “Please don't tell me that's you.”
Atsushi didn’t wait for a response before curtly turning on her heel without looking back.
Luckily, the streetlamps, albeit flickering, were still bright enough to attract clusters of moths. Crisp amber illuminated the bumps of the pavement as Atsushi, still irritated from earlier, stomped her way home.
Atsushi groaned at the wavering glow, immediately hurrying her pace in hopes of avoiding the catastrophe coming her way. Sure was unlucky enough for that.
God, how did she even screw up that badly? First, she exploded at her friend and then left him alone in the dead of night. What if that rustling was a rabid stray, growling to bite Tanizaki in the shins? She wouldn’t be able to look herself in the eye every morning if anything happened to him. Not to mention, she was walking by herself due to her own stupidity. Maybe getting attacked would wake her up from the fogginess in her mind.
Atsushi took a deep breath. It was okay; Tanizaki could take care of himself.
“You’re right, what a stupid decision,” a hush crept, creeping its way through the wind. The muttering was loud enough to make Atsushi feel claustrophobic in the open space. The streets didn’t seem so lonely anymore…
“Kyaah!!!” But could she take care of herself?! Atsushi bolted, half-ready to sob at how badly the day went. This was even worse than that one time she came to school on Monday without reading the weekly weather forecast. The rain seemed to target Atsushi in particular, who had to endure her classes with drenched clothes and ruined hair. More than once had Atsushi been troubled both strangers and friends who asked whether or not she wanted to borrow their coats.
~
“I’m not sure if that was Fyodor or Shibusawa or a ghost. But I don’t mess with either of those things, so I just ran off. Rant finished.”
“Ehh, I get chased by girls and boys all the time. You just have some truly – truly! – clumsy admirers,”
“You– I don’t get the same attention that you do?”
“Usually, I would tell you to follow your heart, but it seems that you need to utilize your brain more. Akutagawa’s been staring at you ever since he was living in the dumps,” Dazai air-jabbed a finger at the other. “The anti-Dazai club and Atsushi fanatics have the same, what, fifty? Hundred students! It’s basically a massive circle!” his eyebrows were scrunched up high as he grinned like a madman, wide as if he had already won the argument.
“Why would anyone go for me in that way? You aren’t making any sense.”
Dazai raked his eyes up and down Atsushi’s form. Slowly, as if he were also contemplating how to put something in the gentlest way possible. “Err, I can think of one thing that’s for sure.”
~
Sitting in the very front of the classroom was a very exhausted, lethargic student trying to take notes on geography while also not falling asleep.
Apparently, Kyouka was having trouble with English. Fortunately, Atsushi excelled in it, having spent most of her childhood reading whatever she could get her hands on from the orphanage's library, which apparently included guides on English Language Arts. So, as a good role model would, she had spent all night printing flashcards, writing vocabulary lists, and putting together suitable movies for Kyouka to watch. Unfortunately, this resulted in rather unique-looking eye bags and slouchy posture the next day, making her look more like a zombie than a human.
She didn’t even have the last, last night to fall back on! That day, the orphanage saw fit to put all the older teens on cooking duty, which would’ve been nice if it weren’t for how useless some of the others were with a knife. Atsushi had to monitor, at minimum, fifteen high schoolers fuck around in the kitchen, which was most definitely a safety violation. Whatever, the headmaster’s done worse than exceed the legal occupancy limit of a room. Nevertheless, she left with minor burns on the left side of her waist, flour forever trapped inside her ear, and a plate of greasy eggs on rice. Because, of course, the orphans somehow spilled an entire gallon of oil onto the pan when she wasn’t looking.
The thought of food threw Atsushi’s thoughts into a whole other rabbit hole. What she wouldn’t do for that new tea brand that recently got donated… Sigh! She was just so damn tired of the same watery green tea every day. Green tea…rice…green tea of rice…
Atsushi recalled when she used to sneak out of the dorms for a late-night snack, which was always a warm bowl of chazuke put together by hands that lacked fine motor skills. Honestly, it was ridiculous, the reason why she had and still craved such a simple dish. Other orphans may have opted for eggs, beans, maybe even bits of the dried sardine and mackerel mix. Something with protein was what she was trying to get at.
It was a simple idea to her young brain. More protein, more muscles. Atsushi hated it, the thought of what seemed inevitable. Every morning, during breakfast, she gave her portion of tofu to the younger ones, slowly becoming a selfless and dependable role model to the other orphans. Atsushi didn’t bother to correct the word-of-mouth.
She knew better now. Although the orphanage’s collection of health books weren’t extensive or even up-to-date, it was solid enough to argue against her flawed logic.
A dull throb echoed at the back of her head, breaking her train of thought. Ow. That sorta hurt. Felt a little humiliating, too. Atsushi dramatically turned her head around, making it clear to the offender that she knew someone had thrown a paper ball at her.
Rolling her eyes at her classmates’ horribly blank faces, she instead examined the paper, now lying innocently on the floor.
Her hands reached over to pick it up, allowing her to read the scrawl: Pay atenttion. You dont want to be slopy.
Who did this person think they were?! While she was grateful for getting knocked out of her trance-like state, she did not appreciate the snide little comment!
Shouldn’t this anonymous writer take their own advice? What was up with their atrocious handwriting? Nobody was impressed with their use of kanji; why couldn’t they just use hiragana? Especially when they seemed to have trouble with grammar and spelling out words.
Atsushi’s judgment quickly transformed into yet another mental monologue, which was immediately dissipated by yet another paper ball. This time, it was chucked at the back of her neck.
Rubbing her nape, she blinked twice after unscrunching the projectile. This one had a drawing: a red heart and two boxes below it, each square labeled with a yes and a no.
She’s seen similar letters before, shoved into her locker by fluttering students before she could ever confront them. Honestly, it made Atsushi feel insecure at times, wondering why she always fell victim to harassment. Why couldn’t they have found another bullying method already? Weren’t they bored of the same gag over and over? It pulled on her heartstrings too much in the beginning, but she began to disregard the letters as time passed. Now, Atsushi just threw them all in the trash without opening them.
(Unbeknownst to Atsushi, a chorus of wails from devastated teenagers rang across the building every time she tossed their passionate, sometimes suggestive, notes away – never to be read.)
The paper ball, oddly enough, seemed to carry a bit of weight. Atsushi flipped the sheet to glance at the back and, shockingly enough, noticed a small triangular piece of leather neatly fastened with decorative masking tape. It was a bookmark, the corner-hugging type that fit neatly inside a page.
Atsushi actually smiled at that. How cute! How useful! Although she’d probably end up using a dog ear or a spare receipt from her latest convenience store run, it was still appreciated.
The tips of her pointer fingers rubbed together, shyly hanging her head low as she inwardly beamed at her secret person. So nice. So friendly. So thoughtful. She carefully arranged what she knew about this anonymous person in her head, settling on those three words.
~
“Pssh! Why are you giving that loser so much attention? Look at me,” Dazai sneered, standing up from his plastic chair and flaunting his chest to the invisible crowd. “I’m your lovely senior! Aren’t you impressed?”
“I mean, not really, no.”
~
In between classes, all students are given a small break. Most of Atsushi’s classmates took advantage of the time given by chit-chatting with their friends, while Atsushi set her sights on the suspect.
It was, after all, an unofficial rite of passage for Yokohama High students. Make fun of Nakajima Atsushi by handing over a fake love confession. Even the people who usually didn’t pull these sorts of pranks ended up following along with the trend, some examples being that one scholarship kid with white and purple hair, a fellow orphan who wore braids and braces, and the ginger who constantly annoyed Dazai. It was just…unique how this particular person chose to go about this task.
Many people opted for the classic under-the-cherry blossom tree tactic. A few bought chocolates while others jumbled up entire paper banners, telling the entire world that Atsushi-chan was the only one for them. Something cheesy like that.
A rite of passage could only mean that it was a first-year or a transfer student. Since Atsushi was in an elevated class, the former was crossed out. This meant that the latter had to be it, which surprised Atsushi.
Naively, she had thought that Fyodor had already been through the school’s version of hazing, what with her romantic kiss in the middle of the hallway. Guess not.
Atsushi slowly went up to the woman, who was busy peering outside the window at a bird. A closed-mouth smile painted across her face, she tilted her body to face Atsushi.
Fyodor scooted left, still on her chair, and patted the “seat” to her right, which was…pretty tight. Didn’t leave much room. Atsushi chose to stand up rather than accept the offer.
“No,” she plainly says. “I know why you’re doing this. I’m not going to entertain you.”
The dark-haired student blinked – once, then twice. “Perhaps, we got off on the wrong foot?
I’m not trying to lead you by the nose, my intentions are as pure as can be.”
“I’m flattered, but you shouldn’t do stuff like that,” she huffed. “You could really hurt someone’s feelings if you aren’t careful!”
“What?” Fyodor’s face betrayed no emotions, yet that spoke more than words. “You’re saying that you’re akin to a trial character? Like a demo, rather than a person? I’m insulted. You’re insinuating that my courting is a lie,” without any hurry, she rose to both feet. Inwardly, Atsushi questioned the peculiar choice of words. How could someone sound like a total geek and a 19th-century noble at the same time?
“Don’t think I didn’t miss the implication of me trying for other people. Know this, I have no interest in others and will remain as faithful as a nun,” she enunciated the last couple of words in a staccato-like pattern. “Understood?”
…
“...Understood?”
~
“Bahaha!” Dazai snorted up a storm. “So you just ran away? Trying to take a page from your dear friend, Dazai?”
“I didn’t mean to! She was just so intimidating. Please don’t let whatever she was doing become a trend. I swear, if anyone else pulls the same thing, I’ll transfer schools!”
Strangely enough, Dazai seemed relieved at how the events transpired. She didn’t pay much attention before, but his shoulders seemed to relax. There was even a tiny dimple poking out of his cheek.
“That rat really didn’t see that coming, huh? You know, most people don’t see Dostoyevsky as a threat, but it’s interesting how your little kitty senses tracked that demon’s foul intentions perfectly. I’d pay good money to see her face once she realized that you were no longer in the room!”
“Please don’t call Fyodor a rat, Dazai-senpai, and just let me vent. I still have one more story to trauma-dump.”
“You still didn’t deny me calling the rat a demon~!”
~
Rubbing her eyes dry, Atsushi rose from the chair, untangling herself from the odd pose she had fallen asleep in. Somehow feeling sore in her neck, arms, and feet, she instinctively attempted to stretch her back. Which she failed miserably, leaving her to tumble down pathetically and land right on her tailbone. Aw, I think I just cracked my butt…
Did she really overwork herself to the point of falling asleep in the student council room? Atsushi massaged her back from the floor, wincing at the sharp pains sprouting from every muscle in her body. After she was finished licking her wounds, her eyes peeped upwards at the clock on the wall.
Crap! Mouth gaping, Atsushi instantly stood up and started packing her belongings.
“How is it already six..?! I slept through the bell? How am I going to explain this to the headmaster…” She took on a sort of whisper-yell, even though there was nobody around to hear, as she patted her pockets in search of her phone.
“W-Where is it?! No…” A distraught grimace formed on Atsushi’s face as she registered the lack of weight in her safety shorts. Atsushi didn’t know if she had enough funds to buy a new phone, but maybe it was safe in the entryway lockers. Wouldn't be much of a stretch since she did end up running late today, probably shoved her phone inside her cubby alongside her outdoor shoes. Yeah. Probably.
With a sigh, Atsushi flattened out her skirt, eliciting a swishing to resonate throughout the room. Fine! Okay, the quicker she gets her phone, the quicker she leaves.
“Alright! Let’s do this.” She tugged her shirt down and twisted the lock on the door open.
~
“Huuaa!” Dazai inhaled. “Huuaa!” Dazai exhaled. “Huuaahahaha!!!”
“I didn’t even tell the story yet- why do you laugh like that?”
“Is this one gonna be about Shibusawa?”
“Yeah?” Oh God, his face was completely red.
“HUAHAHAHA!!!”
~
The school appeared eerie once everything had finished for the day. There was nobody inside any classrooms or any light on except for the natural sunlight outside. It just seemed wrong. Still, Atsushi trotted her way through the alley, trying to keep her spirits up and running.
That was why seeing her was so shocking.
Shibusawa was crouched down like those old grandpas on the streets waiting for the red light to turn green. Was she…working on a school assignment? Was that why she wasn't home yet? Atsushi didn’t know much about the other’s schedule, but it seemed to be pretty packed and challenging. Even Atsushi decided not to take any college classes!
Joy twinkled from her face as she imagined how hard-working the student body was. It was difficult for Atsushi to imagine a normal student’s academic life, primarily due to the number of teachers who excused or offered extended due dates for her school projects.
Atsushi ignored her first impression of Shibusawa. Maybe she just struggled socially? Lots of her friends also experienced trouble with that, so it wasn't a big deal. After all, second chances were a concept that Atsushi firmly believed in.
“Hey!” She called out, waving her hands up in the air. Shibusawa didn’t flinch at the sudden volume, instead taking the time to readjust herself to face the newcomer. “There’s no shame in struggling once in a while! A friend of mine struggles with homework, but he’s really good at exams!”
~
“Okay, but I’ve improved a lot.” The brunette joyfully sang in her ear, clapping afterwards as if to give himself a round of applause.
“Like what? Scoring 40% on an assignment and then getting 50% on the retake?”
~
“Hm, and what brought this up?” Shibusawa urged.
“SO, what I’m trying to say is… Do you want some help? I can tutor you in English, for sure! I might be a first-year, but I skipped a couple of grades! So, think about it?” Atsushi air-gunned her impassive senior.
“That wouldn’t be necessary. I’m not here for any after-school homework clubs.”
Oh no. Was Shibusawa here because of detention then? Was she a troublemaker? Atsushi would have to approach this differently.
“Huh. Well, whatever you did, I hope you don’t make the same mistake!” Not sure what to do, she offered a thumbs up with both hands, curling her lips in a way that was hopefully not mistaken as scorn.
“Aha, what are you talking about?” Shibusawa had a confused yet fond smile. “She really didn’t lie. You do, in fact, revitalize those around you. My lethargy used to weigh me down, but now, I feel so very invigorated just hearing you speak…”
“What?”
“You’re like an angel- no, you are an angel. So brilliant and vivid, despite what the world desires from you.” She looked like she had a moment of epiphany. Or like she orgasmed in her pants. Atsushi could only stare, jaw dropped. Wow, how many animes has this girl watched? This was worse than both Father Hawthorne’s preaching and middle-school Dazai. “My savior, you’ve arrived to save me from my eternal apathy.”
“Ahhuh? Come again?”
“Can’t.” Huh?
~
Dazai only nodded in approval as Atsushi relayed the last bit to him.
“Smooth. I have to commend that at the very least.”
“So, you know what Shibusawa-senpai was talking about?”
“Nah-nope, don’t look at me like that! Zero clue, but maybe you should ask Yosano-san or Kunikida-kun. Yeah, ask Kunikida-kun! Tell him to, ahem, come again, as they say.”
“Okay, I trust you, I’ll text him right now.” Atsushi reached over to her phone.
“Wha- hey!” He kicked his body out of his chair and began to run after Atsushi around the table. “Let me see what you're gonna send him! C’mon, Atsushiii, you know I’m an excellent proofreader!”
“You can come up with a better excuse than that!”
“B-But what if you make a typo? Awww, coochie coochie coo! Papa’s here to correct your mistakes!”
“Ew, no! Get away!” Atsushi whined. “I’m so mentioning your weird behavior to Kunikida-kun!” Standing up, she kicked off a game of ring-around-the-rosey, alternating between glancing at her flip phone’s keyboard and focusing on Dazai. “Do you think I’m stupid? Shibusawa had this very specific, blissed out face the entire conversation. I know what that means. I’ve traumatized myself more than once by walking in on some of the kids at the orphanage.”
“Aw, come on!” His pace sped up at those words, legs working overtime to catch up.
In the end, Dazai was no match for Atsushi. He may have cut the corners more efficiently, but he lacked any true athletic power in the encumbering summer heat. Those sweaty bandages didn’t seem to help either.
“Do you think she was on drugs or something? Figures. Shibusawa does have red eyes.” Atsushi checked her spelling and grammar, which Kunikida expected her to uphold despite her flip phone situation. “Ehehe! Aaaand, sent!” Atsushi smirked at Dazai, who had this wrecked stare. “Wait, what are you-” Her eyes could only bulge as she witnessed Dazai jump over the table.
~
Atsushi anxiously rubbed her sweaty palms with her fingertips, “Yeah, that's great. Er. I'm gonna leave now.” Why did she have to start a conversation with Shibusawa? Her phone could've been stolen by now!
“You didn’t hear my answer yet.” Her face began to fall as she said that. I don’t care, let me leave!
“Oh, well. Text me it later, ‘kay? I need to go get my phone from my locker, like, right now.”
Her legs moved without much thought, bolting straight to her locker. Every other cubby was predictably empty. It only sent further panic down Atsushi’s spine as her brain gained more ammo for her to imagine the worst-case scenario.
please don’t be stolen please don’t be stolen please don’t be stolen
She squeaked as her sprint came to an end. Nervously checking the inside of her cubby, it consisted of her phone, as expected, and a crisp red apple that was NOT there in the morning. Dear god.
~
“Kunikida-kun is gonna beat my ass again!” Dazai whined. “No, he was already planning on doing that ‘cause I skipped that student council meeting today. What I mean is that he’s going to beat my ass up even harder!”
“That’s what you get, pervert. You tried to make me tell Kunikida-kun to, quote on quote, come again.”
“Atsu-chan, please! Forgive this lowly one! Kuni-chan is gonna jump me with that stupid slug, Chuuya! They’re gonna join forces to make me bite the curb, and I can’t. I’m too youung!!”
~
Atsushi backed and backed up until she physically couldn’t anymore. Oh no, her back hit the wall of lockers! There wasn’t any escape with Shibusawa on her left and Fyodor on her right. Sweat dripped down Atsushi’s forehead, crawling down from her nose and to her chin.
“One angel shot, please,” she mumbled under her breath.
“What was that?”
Atsushi just hung her head low in response, trying to distract herself instead of paying attention to the two bums surrounding her.
That one student council assignment would work fine. The deadline was coming up anyway.
After graduating, where do you see yourself?
It was, without a doubt, an interview question that Ranpo had trouble with, but Atsushi still took it with the same serious attitude as she would have in any other task.
Priority number one would be to stay alive. Long enough to get her act together and secure a job that was safe, sane, and consensual. Atsushi thought back to her literature class and
She would sleep, not on futons with a kingdom-size worth of bedbugs or torn blankets, but on clean beds that haven’t been passed down from generation to generation of children. Her house would be both cozy and small to ensure comfort while still staying low-maintenance. Atsushi really felt that her back deserved a break after all those years of cleaning in the orphanage. God, she wanted a massage chair. She wanted a massage chair so bad.
Kyouka would also stay with her, or at least live close by. Close enough that they could have sleepovers every day without the headmaster looming over Atsushi’s shoulder. She’d make bentos every day and personally deliver them to Kyouka for her to savor.
Actually, Atsushi quite liked the thought of all her friends living in the same apartment building.
She’d be able to learn recipes with Kunikida. His stern nature would surely benefit from the strictness that came along with baking, and they would eventually end the day with trays and trays of sweet treats. It wasn’t exactly noticeable at first glance, but Atsushi could tell how affected he truly was from the stress of high school, his part-time job, Dazai, and the recent hospitalization of his parents. Atsushi felt that he deserved the finer things in life, even if the man sometimes acted like he had a permanent stick up his butt.
Dazai’s problematic disposition with suicide was worringly tricky, yes, and Atsushi had no choice but to fight back against the nooses and pills and blades to his neck. The same routine she’s followed way back before Yokohama High came into both of their lives. Going as far as to when she was just a few years old, young enough to stumble over both words and steps. Despite this, the seven-year-old Dazai was watching and scrutinizing her every move, his singular eye – because, at the time, he had covered the right side of his face due to an embarrassing stye – blinking on and off like a camera. One pool party and lifesaving attempt later, Dazai actually ended up taking a liking to the little girl who clung to his now-soaked black coat.
Well, Yosano already went on tons of routine shopping trips with her, so why would it change after graduation? Bouncy bows and skirts that billowed swish-swish, Atsushi’s wardrobe would be packed to the brim with whatever caught Yosano’s eye. So much so that they would need to take a trip to the carpenter’s, to where Atsushi would vehemently refuse each piece, for they were all too costly. Yosano would gracefully accept the denials in stride before delivering the largest wardrobe in-store right on top of Atsushi’s welcome mat.
The Tanizaki siblings each had a big fat Do Not Separate tag slapped right onto their foreheads. So it was obvious to Atsushi that they would continue living together in their adulthood: same house, bank account, library card. To Atsushi, the dream would be going over to their place to critique second-hand novels with utmost seriousness before collectively laughing at the notes the previous owner left behind. Then, they would all get together and watch the movie adaptation, much to their shared disappointment at the casting choice.
On the other hand, Ranpo would just burst into her apartment with zero notice, spread his wet noodle arms all over her couch, and lazily demand ramune as compensation for his troubles. Who was she to deprive him of what was basically his own blood? It should’ve been obvious to everyone who knew Atsushi that she planned on keeping a fully stocked fridge – full of fizzy sugar water. Her senpai in everything but maps deserved, at the very least, that much. The sheer amount of brain power he went through daily provided more than an explanation for his monopoly over Yokohama’s candy industry. And yet, Ranpo still bothered to share the gummy bears hidden in his backpack with her.
And whenever she felt down, Kenji’s door would always be open; carefully cultivated, feathery ferns reaching over to tickle her skin as she moved from room to room. She imagined that Kenji still would’ve trouble adapting to life in the concrete jungle, his Ihatov upbringing prioritizing cows rather than internet safety. Kenji would adapt, though. Instead of excavating soil, his hands would focus on typing up reports for whatever job he landed on. It was basically Kenji’s motto – live happily, fully, and content with all the friends around you.
Ahh… Everything was nice. Nicer than what was going on in the recesses of her mind. She thought she could hear a few cats yowling and cars crashing back there. Maybe a couple of police sirens. Did she want to deal with that? No, not really. Atsushi still had that coupon from some months back in her backpack. Did it expire yet? Should she check really quickly?
Without much thought, she stretched her hand to her back, poking around for a zipper before realizing that one, it was after-school, and two, that the coupon totally did expire. And now she looked like a complete and total idiot.
Her cheeks flushed deep crimson as she shut her eyes tightly, a combination of embarrassment, self-consciousness, and a secret third option drowning her thoughts. Hrgh.
It was fine. She didn’t care for how the people around her saw her. They wouldn’t remember it after a week. It’s already over. It happened. She only cared for the opinions of her friends.
Choosing not to linger on both the wasp nest and the flamethrower, Atsushi studied Fyodor and Shibusawa, apparently bickering with each other in their own weird way. It was almost entrancing.
The beads of Shibusawa’s necklace clinked and shone through the orange rays streaming through the window. Her face – which Atsushi's classmates had proclaimed was typically more on the emotionless side – seemed more irritated than not.
One person turned a compliment so backhanded that it might as well have slapped the other in the face, and before Atsushi could blink, lovebombing was somehow being used in the play. Atsushi didn’t really know how that worked.
“Atsushwi-cwhaaan!!” Dazai’s childish cry sounded warmer than usual. “Over here!” Betraying his own words, he inched closer to her location. A more-than-welcome invitation. It was only once he was close enough that she noticed – other than that red, swollen bump on his forehead – that he wasn't alone.
Kunikida was glaring at Dazai with barely-concealed malice while Dazai shielded his injured head from further abuse, Yosano was doomscrolling on her phone, Ranpo and Kenji were playing patty-cake together, Tanizaki and Naomi were busy doing God knows what, and Kyouka was quietly minding her own business.
Everyone was waiting for her.
“Senpai,” she replied primly. Pushing the two unsuspecting demons away, Atsushi turned her attention over to the awaiting crowd.
It was an okay day.