"I just want to add that each of you needs to give me a draft that would satisfy me. That means the two of you need to give me something that has emotions in it with a different genre!" The phone on my hand vibrates again as I receive another message from my adviser.
"Within a month, I expect you to give that manuscript to me before you can even dream of preparing for the play!." Saying his last hurrah, Benjamin sends his ultimate message to our emails. Upon looking at the text, my eyes go berserk in rage.
"That adviser of ours pisses me off!" I expressed my thoughts while stomping my foot on the ground, creating mud of craters and dust particles as trails.
I can feel my cheeks getting warmer every second, showing no signs of it to calm down. Upon glancing at my side, the Korean guy heaves out a sigh and tells me something.
"Will you quit that tantrum of yours?" Nickson steps back and lets me advance first. "Nothing will change if you keep doing that."
"That principal said that I would work with you." I turn around and face him with glaring eyes, still with my feet kicking the cement. "And he expects us to work together as a team? Does he know how hard it is to be with a guy like you?"
"Let me do the writing then, Yuki," Nickson says, and makes a curve out from his lips.
We pause at the split of the hallway where he will go one way, toward the student council room, and I will go the other, toward the cafeteria to grab some snacks.
I raise my eyebrow at him. "What will I do, sit around in the corner while you take the limelight?"
I could tell that Nickson wants to take advantage of this situation and claim that he is the sole person to form a plot, not me. He never wants to work with me, and I never enjoy conversing with him!
"If you would not cooperate, I would insist on writing all the plots without your help." He snaps and continues to go down the hallway.
Before he could leave, I reach out for him and grab his arm with intense strength from stopping him in his tracks. Nickson turns around and sees my flushed face in embarrassment while holding back a tear drifting from my sockets. As I meet his eye, he pushes me towards the corner with his hands blocking my right side.
I cannot let him leave and do what he wants since my career is on the line (somewhat). If I cannot deal with him, Nickson could tell Benjamin and the principal about my attitude.
I could also inform them of his personality to me, but that thought would not change a thing in our situation.
"What do you want?" Nickson asks with glaring red-shot eyes.
"We still need to make a draft and improve our work,"
"And?" He retorts.
I look at Nick straight in the eyes and push his arms downwards, releasing me from his pin.
"We have a month to make a novel or a manga. Whoever has the better story wins the director role, leaving the loser being an assistant. How about that?"
"It is not a terrible deal, Yuki." The mangaka turns around and heads forth towards the corridor. Nickson also gives out an aura brimming with confidence and arrogance.
His shadow turns into dust and eventually disappears from the other side. After feeling free from his latch, I carry on my way and head towards the canteen.
The noise fills the site with unending energy as I discern students strolling towards the counter. Since it is already lunchtime, the mob grabs their opportunity to buy all fresh foods and leave nothing from the table.
"I told Roxanne to fix our food!" A grumble escapes from my mouth as I recall the events from before.
The two of us planned on making our bento box this morning, but Roxy did not stop by my house. Despite waiting for her figure, I received a text saying she already went to school, fixing the papers she needed to organize.
As I approach the line, a familiar girl passes by me and trips over her tray full of varieties of food. I have not noticed until now our shoulders collide with the splashing of rice, viands, and juice over the place.
The scent of the combined flavours and sauces on the ground spread inside the room. Luckily for the students, the meals do not have any acrid smell that could irritate their nostrils.
Fortunately for her, my hand seizes her shirt tight that forces her to stand. The girl slips back and forth and tries to balance her steps. But with a slight tug, she regains her equilibrium and bows her head to me.
"I am really sorry for not paying attention to my surroundings." The feeble girl gingerly removes my hand from her clothing and tidies the scattered meal. She scans throughout the cafeteria, trying to look for a janitor to clean the mess.
After a while, a man brings in a mop and brushes the floor clean.
We both lower our heads for the cleaner, expressing our gratitude for the help he has given us. The maintenance man returns our favour and also nods his head out of courtesy. As the two of us see him off, the girl turns her face back to me with teary eyes.
"Thanks for helping me again." The girl bows her head again and apologises.
"I do not mind it at all-,"
"Oh my gosh, I stained your uniform." She interjects and grabs a tissue from her pocket.
The girl refuses to stop rubbing the white paper towel from my cloth and feels desperate about the situation. No matter how many times I tell her, the youngster never listens to me.
I try stopping her hand for the last time, but she grabs mine and drags me towards the nearest restroom that we could find. Without saying another word, she rushes to the faucet, rotates the wheel, and rinses her handkerchief.
My mouth tries to speak, but she keeps interfering with my words. After wetting the towel, she jolts back to me and wipes the blemish part of the uniform. Like magic, the teenage woman successfully removes the rainbow-coloured smudge of my uniform.
"All better!"
It is the first time I have seen her curve up a smile after her panicking behaviour from before. Her eyes almost feel like the embodiment of despair before washing my clothing.
"You have a gorgeous smile." My mouth falls open as I observe her features up close inside the restroom.
We are the only people inside this quiet place with no one interfering with our moment. No sound disrupts us as we lock eyes with one another. It almost feels like there is a connection forming between the two of us that nobody can explain.
The girl reverts to reality and soon blushes in a rosy-pink colour and says, "I am sorry for troubling you, for wasting your time, and for soiling your uniform."
"It is already clean, right?"
With a nod, the girl concurs with my statement.
"I am fine. Nothing bad happened to you amidst all that! Everything is fine."
"Are you sure you are not mad?" The girl adds and fidgets with both of her fingers.
I approach her and give her a flick on the forehead as I finally remember her face and name.
"You are Fujiwara, Yui, am I right? The council member." I exclaim.
Yui gives me a nod and hides her faint smile. Her eyes are sticking to the door, wanting to leave the palace. She even has her eyebrows curl downwards with her head, gazing on the ground, avoiding any eye contact with me.
"Do you hate me?" I blurt out.
"No!"
"Then why are you avoiding my gaze?"
The shy girl shakes her head and walks towards me. Yui offers me another set of tissues inside a box and stutters to say the lines she wants to tell.
"I am bad with talking to people."
"I know the struggle, so you do not have to worry about anything, Yui!"
My hands wrap around her shoulders as I celebrate with her, our friendship growing from the first stage. I can feel it in my rummaging veins, the bond forming between the two of us. Like the butterflies flying outwards from my stomach, I feel happy that I have made a friend from the first few weeks of my school year, or so I have thought.
Yuki bolts away like a rabbit and rushes outside without saying her goodbyes. She even leaves her wrist band made of unrefined clay. It has a distinct shape of yellow and violet, splashing together as one.
From afar, the rubber band looks like a piece of plastic that has no value. But from up close, I sense a deeper meaning behind the object.
I rush through the door, hoping to find Yui, who has run away. The school has vast space, so looking for her right now would prove to be a waste of time for me.
"I will try to see her tomorrow," I tell myself, and step out from the restroom.