Chapter 2 - Toshiro Okumori refuses to lower his unassailable wall.

Toshiro Okumori

Gradually, I opened my eyes and, eventually, woke up from the deep slumber I was in. Instantly, I let out a groan.

𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺.

I squirmed around in my bed, then eventually fixing my irritated eyes to the alarm that had been continuously beeping in front of me. I lifted my hand in the air and smacked my hand right on the top of the said alarm, to stop it's constant beeping instantly.

I rubbed my tired eyes right after and slowly pushed myself up from the bed.

It didn't take me long to mentally and physically prepare myself for the exhausting day that was about to come: brushing my teeth, washing my face, wearing my school uniform, all that boring stuff. After I finished, I made my way downstairs and to the living room in a sluggish manner, only to be interrupted by the mother, who was giving me a cheery grin.

"Toshirooo! Good morning!" She waved.

Her silky black hair that reached her lower back swayed right to left as she waved at me in glee, and her smile revealed her shiny white teeth that gleamed.

"Good morning…" I tiredly nodded to her greeting.

I continued my pace over to the table and took my seat in placidity. Then, I joined my hands together and shut my eyes.

𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘵.

"Toshiro! Guess what? Guess what? Someone moved into the house in front of us!"

I opened my eyes and intriguingly looked at her.

"The girl there is beautiful!" She exclaimed, raising her hands in the air.

Her eyebrows aimed downwards as she suddenly stood up in excitement.

"No, too beautiful!" She declared, slamming her hand down onto the table.

I paused, startled by her immediate change of tone.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵?

"I just want to caress her hair! No, her body! No, anything will do!"

"Wh-What… ?" I said in disbelief.

Since she worked for a fashion design company, I understood where she came from… But I also didn't understand. Do they always boast about their model's looks? Just hearing my mom yell out such perverted words made me question her innocence.

"You have to bring her here! You have to! I need you as bait! You can walk up to her house, knock-"

"You lost me at 'bring her here.'"

"What do you mean? You look good, and she looks good! It's perfect!"

I didn't want to heed any more attention to her rambling, ignoring her, and only attempting to focus my attention on the food that was in front of me. I also wasn't too interested or keen about it in the slightest, nor was I even delighted about it.

The perception I have of alluring, elegant girls, was that they were this stunning, angelic human being on the outside but had that manipulative part of them on the inside. Being friends with such unpredictable women could only be signing your emotional death contract, and it made chills run down my spine just thinking of it.

"You should make friends with her! I think it'd work out! No, it will work out! She's like an angel! I doubt she'd refuse!" She raised her fist.

I let out a stern, silent glare directed at her in return. Of course, she didn't notice since she was too absorbed with her idea, but I took it as a chance to prepare my bag for school.

I grabbed the packed lunch she had assembled for me and calmly placed it inside my school bag. I zipped it closed, slung it over my shoulder, and then set my eyes back to my mom.

But, instead of hearing more of her incessant chattering, she was just knocked out on the table and snoring.

I eyed her in amazement.

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘴?

I approached her cautiously and slowly reached my hand out to nudge her shoulder.

"... Eh?" She muttered, then opened her eyes to meet mine.

Her purple-colored eyes now seemed gloomy and fatigued as she sighed at me.

"Sorry, Toshiro… I stayed up last night…." She said with a weary tone.

I guess I couldn't blame her; all-nighters were indeed very tiring. That didn't excuse what she was just spouting out earlier, though. It was like she wasted the last of her sparkling energy into that one babbling frenzy of hers.

I pulled my arm away and took what she replied within consideration.

"Get some rest. I don't want you passing out all of a sudden like this. It'll be too much of a hassle for me," I grumbled.

"Yes, yes," she groaned. "Have a good day at school, Toshiro-chan."

Then, she raised her hand and waved it around lazily.

Instantly, I already knew what she was attempting to do, and it made me slightly annoyed. I groaned and shut my eyes. I casually lowered myself to her height, which caused her to smile while she started to pat my head.

I grumbled in response. This was another thing she liked doing. Did she just like patting my head? Was my head nice to caress? What is so satisfying about it? Eventually, she'd stop and return to her snoring slumber in a matter of seconds.

While she peacefully slept, I took the time to saunter out of the house. I would exit and start to make my way towards the school at an ambling pace, only to instantly realize that something was missing not long after.

I grabbed the earbuds and the phone inside my right pocket and connected them. Then, sliding in the earbuds and beginning to search for music to listen to. I used my finger to scroll past songs, which eventually led me to this one song that seemed pleasing.

𝘽𝙖𝙙 𝙚𝙭𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚- 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙮𝙖𝙣

I clicked play. All of a sudden, the sounds of flowing winds and swaying of trees abruptly stopped as the music entered my ears, with the weariness I had been experiencing just earlier seeming to wither away in a matter of seconds.

I looked up and caught sight of the petals that had left its blossom tree parent. It was shimmering in the sunlight as they flew past my eyes. Then, I was met with gusts of winds that hit against my body, causing my hair to fly upwards and make me flinch in response. I wasn't complaining, though, because it felt chilly and incredibly soothing.

Soon enough, I spotted some people who wore my school uniform, making their way to the school. Most went in pairs, or groups with friends, laughing and joking around with each other, while I simply walked by myself.

Something felt odd, though.

I sensed a clumsy and nervous atmosphere coming from each person who surrounded me. But, I decided to ignore it because it wasn't my problem. I felt fine myself, and I wasn't going to waste my time theorizing the reasons for the stiff air emanating from these people.

Soon, I reached the school. But, sadly, I wasn't ready for the sight I was about to encounter.

As I took my first steps inside the hallways, I immediately realized what day it was.

It was February 15th. The day after Valentine's Day.

The cacophonous chattering was enough to drown out the music playing in my ears. People giving others chocolates surrounded me all around. I didn't see what couples' were doing, since I hurriedly walked past them. Just a glimpse at them made me cringe.

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

Valentine's Day is always a mess. It's always an exhausting day of second-hand embarrassment. Essentially, a weird laughingstock for those who watch.

However, for the strong-witted men, it is payday. And for the weak, it is a day of even more relentless belittling to their already low self-esteem and confidence.

Finally, there are the ones who don't care. Mostly mistaken for the 'weak' because of their odd cynical nature about romance and inability to earn someone's trust, but are shrewder and more astute than both the weak and strong.

And, well, I couldn't care less about this day of 'jocund' romance.

As stated above, it is just a grueling day of watching the mistakes of others in discomfiture.

Eventually, I would reach my classroom. I slid open the door quietly, and immediately was met with the sight of multiple people conversing with one another. I scanned the room, then finally started to walk towards my assigned table.

I set down my bag beside the table, grasped the chair behind it, and pushed it back. I propped myself down and rested my right elbow onto the table, placing my palm over to my cheek and leaning forwards as I stared at the blank and spotless blackboard.

"Take your seats!" The teacher bellowed.

There was the rumbling of desks and chairs moving around instantly. In a matter of seconds, everyone had taken their seats and were now completely silent.

Then, I looked over to my left and saw the seat that was beside me. It was empty, as usual. Nobody sat there. It was something I admired in a way.

We had an indistinguishable and undeniable trait: We were invisible to everyone, which is why I appreciated it.

"Everyone! We have a new student. Treat her with respect, please!" His loud and demanding voice said.

"Miyake-san, introduce yourself." He then nodded respectfully towards the doorway.

A blonde girl walked through the door with a big smile, making her way happily to the front of the class. Then, she fully faced us.

𝘖𝘩. 𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭.

I remembered my little monologue about my perception of beautiful girls, and it saved me from dropping my jaw at the woman's sight. Thankfully, it caused me to stare at her blankly.

The first thing I noticed about her was the one cute fang that was present while she smiled, and it gave me the impression that she was some annoying girl already.

Then, I spotted her blonde hair, which reached only her shoulders and flew in the wind due to the classroom's wide-open window. Her facial features were pretty delicate, too, having a well-rounded face and clean, porcelain, shiny skin.

But, as if she couldn't get any prettier, she opened her eyes and revealed the stunning color of bright orange irises. Her eyelashes were long, too, and it made her eyes look even more attractive than they should've been. It was a rare eye color and a dazzling one for sure.

Soon, I realized that she didn't have any makeup on her face, and it made me feel even more astonished as my blank stare eventually turned into a gaze of awe.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘢𝘸, 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭?

She also wore a loose brown cardigan in front to cover her sailor shirt, which only enhanced her cuteness.

𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵, 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘥. 𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳? 𝘋𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴.

"Hello, everyone!" The girl waved.

Another thing I could pick up was her delightful tone of voice. Almost instantly, I could tell that she was one of those extroverted girls, which only furthered my distaste for her even more.

"My name is Youko Miyake. Please call me Miyake! My dad is American, while my mom is Japanese, so I am biracial! I like communicating a lot, so I'd like to talk to you all soon! Nice to meet you all!"

I started to gaze around the room to see the other classmates' reactions.

Firstly, I set my eyes on the guys. As expected, their reactions were no different from what I had imagined. Red faces, widened eyes, and even some nose bleeds as they gazed upon this 'Miyake' girl.

Then, the girls. It was a mix of jealousy and happiness. Some had eager and happy looks, while the rest had jaundiced eyes aimed right at her. But, I couldn't blame them. The girl's presence alone just increased all the men's desired types in this school for girls by a landslide.

I turned back around to see Miyake, only to notice that she wasn't in front of the classroom anymore. But, even worse. As I started to search around the room in confusion, it didn't take me long to spot her.

Because she was right in my face.

I jumped back and leaned myself back on my chair, staring at her in shock.

"Hi!" She smiled. "We sit next to each other!"

𝘞-𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?

I peeked over her shoulder and saw that she had already placed her school bag on the table. But, I didn't have time to react because she had been patting my shoulder with a happy grin.

"I hope we get along!"

She then paused and attentively stared at me.

"But, you know, you'd look pretty cute if you had a small makeover." She said as if it was a logical thing to say.

𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺? 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺?

Hearing what she said made me bewildered. I felt repulsive just remembering it. It was like she was saying, 'You're ugly, but you can manage.'

"That face doesn't seem too happy…." She puffed her right cheek.

𝘎𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦.

"Oh well, class is starting soon, anyway… I wish I could talk to you more, but maybe we can during lunch?" She tilted her head and questioned.

I sighed and looked away without responding to her.

Why is this happening now? Especially during a Monday? I expected this day to be boring and anticlimactic. Why is she even wasting her time on someone who's practically invisible?

Nobody converses with me nor do they really notice me. Most teachers don't even recognize me, even after being in their class for weeks, mainly because I detested talking to anyone at all.

But it's not like I'm complaining about it, either. No one could interrupt this free space I had. I could relax and not worry about others' opinions or people approaching me.

Yet, here was Miyake, trying to befriend someone like me.

It's revolting to watch, really.

Class began and it consisted of writing, reading, and listening to the teacher speak. It was dreary. Too dreary. To the point where I had fallen asleep on my table. Or, well, attempted to, at least.

Soon, I was interrupted by someone's weak grasp on my shoulder. They shook me lightly. It puzzled me and slightly infuriated.

I opened my eyes and met Miyake's gaze, who was inches away from my face. Of course, I became very uncomfortable. Due to this discomposure, I recoiled backward to create a gap between us.

"Hi!" Her voice beamed with excitement.

I gradually regained my focus and scowled at her.

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦? 𝘎𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.

"It's lunch, remember?"

She raised her school bag in front of me and pulled out her lunch box, then giving me a vivacious smile.

𝘖𝘩, 𝘯𝘰.

"Oh, wait!" She raised her finger.

She hastily looked around before finally finding what she needed -- a chair.

"Here…we go," she grunted.

She pushed one of the unoccupied chairs around her in front of my table and optimistically took her seat right before me. She set her lunch box down and looked at me in excitement.

"Is it okay if I sit here?"

𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

I sighed and shook my head in disappointment, too mentally debilitated to even dispute against her incautious action.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

I crossed my arms and avoided her gaze, not willing to respond to her question.

There's no way I'm eating lunch with someone like her. No way. I refuse.

"Ehh? Giving me the silent treatment already? How boring," she groaned.

I ignored her child-like immaturity and continued to look away from her.

"Here, do you want some sushi? It'll cheer you up."

There was the feeling of something pointy that touched my cheek—two of them, to be precise. With my head still pointed away, I looked down and saw two chopsticks connected with my right cheek, with Miyake holding them with a teasing smile.

I slapped them away almost instantly and shot a glare at her.

"Woah. Scary." She retracted the chopsticks. "Don't worry, though. I haven't put them in my mouth yet. I'm going to assume that's a no for sushi, though. Are you sure? It tastes good."

I looked at her, appalled, then shook my head. I didn't want food from anyone, especially from someone like her.

"Hmm. Okay!" She chomped, then chewed the sushi happily.

If she kept doing this, I, and notably other guys, would get the wrong idea. In fact, I believe it already seems that way because I could feel their petrifying scowls that pierced my soul.

"Buh the way, whath's your name? I nevah got the chanth to hear it earlier." She questioned, with the sushi still present in her mouth as she chewed.

I was already getting exhausted from her relentless questions. Just her standing or even sitting next to me made me vexed. As usual, I ignored her question and continued to eye her in disgust due to her infant-like attitude.

I wasn't planning to hand out my name or even a hint. I didn't trust her at all with those valuable details of mine. Giving a stranger your name or even any information about you was just a recipe for disaster, and I would like to avoid such at all costs.

She swallowed her sushi down.

"No fun." She then jokingly retorted.

𝘊𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

"You can call me Miyake-san, by the way! Wait, Miyake-chan seems cuter. Well, whatever you like!" She presented a thumbs-up gesture to me.

I didn't bother to call her name and completely disregarded her introduction.

"You don't have to be shy, you know. I won't do anything to you. It's not like I'm some crazy girl that'll kill you or something."

𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵...?

Once more, I ignored her.

"What about your contact info?"

I paused.

Generally, you'd lower the bar when something doesn't go your way, right? So why was she 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 that bar? If she couldn't get my name, what made her think it was even feasible to get my contact information?

"Don't worry. I won't send you weird texts or anything. You seemed pretty interesting, so I just wanted to be friends with you. Besides, you're the only one not ogling at me."

Well, she was reasonably wrong.

Me, being the teenage male I am, did indeed eye her when she first entered the class, so it'd be immoral to deny her statement. But I wasn't willing to agree on it either, because that'd just be utterly embarrassing.

Chances are I'd probably activate some kind of tsundere mode in her, which in return would end up with her bashing me with rude words.

So, in conclusion, not replying to her was the best course of action.

"That didn't work either? Hmm…" Miyake placed her finger on her chin.

Then, she squeezed her fist and struck the table, startling me.

"Okay! It seems that you've cornered me to use this method…."

I spectated her in curiosity, yet somewhat apprehensive because of the idea that she was preparing herself to slap me.

"How was your day?" Miyake vehemently asked.

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵?

I stared at her in bemusement.

"That didn't work, either," she noted.

Miyake dropped her head on the table in a jaded manner. Then, she decided to ask the most unrelated and moronic question I've had ever heard:

"How many girls have confessed to you?"

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘮𝘦?

I didn't move an inch and didn't remove my perplexed eyes away from her.

"You see, a lot of guys ask me out, and I'm not good with rejections. I was just asking to see if you knew how guys felt after being rejected."

𝘐𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 '𝘯𝘰?' 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦?

Disregarding my fussing, I could only imagine how many guys had asked her out already. I had a feeling that she had confessions almost every day.

Miyake, seeing how I stayed mute, groaned in her seat. She then lifted her head away from the table and pointed at me with a committed expression.

"I give up! For today, that is! I'll make you talk tomorrow, speechless human!" She declared.

She grabbed her lunch box, stood up, and started to walk away. But, before she could even depart from me, she turned to me and forced an inelegant smile.

"Um, well, bye-bye!" She waved at me.

She then made her way to a group of girls and sparked up a conversation with them instead, without any problems, all while I watched her in complete and utter bafflement.

Then, I closed my eyes and sighed.

𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨…