"Would you be my boyfriend?" Suzuki muttered; her gaze fixed on the floor.
"Her words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. For a moment, I couldn't speak—partly because I was stunned and partly because I wasn't sure if I'd heard her correctly.
Why would she ask me to be her boyfriend? I mean, we've barely ever talked. Don't get me wrong, she's cute and all, but I've only been at this school for two weeks. This is my third week, and she's already asking me out.
Despite my skepticism, I had to give her an answer. The only words I could muster were:
"Sure, why not."
After my response, she bolted back to the classroom, her pink hair bouncing with each step. She left me on the rooftop, staring after her, utterly confused about what had just happened.
I guess she lost all her confidence. To think I'd be asked out in my third week of school is frankly jarring—what's more, on a Monday of all days?
Not that I particularly dislike Mondays or anything; they're just as bad as any other day. I don't hold any specific hatred for, or particularly favor, any particular day of the week.
I decided to stay on the rooftop for a while. It was peaceful and secluded, the kind of place where you could think without interruption. Sitting there, I idly watched the clouds drifting across the sky. They seemed so free, unbound by rules or expectations, moving wherever they pleased.
Unfortunately, the bell rang, breaking my reverie. Reluctantly, I made my way back to class. As I reached my seat, my stomach growled loudly, a sharp reminder that I'd skipped lunch. I sighed in irritation.
Why did she ask me out, though?
I glanced toward Suzuki, hoping to figure out her intentions, but she caught me looking and grinning as if she knew exactly what I was trying to do.
I have to admit, she's pretty cute. And coming from someone who's met people from all over the world, that's saying something.
Still, I know next to nothing about her. I guess it's best to stay cautious for now.
I turned toward the window, letting my eyes follow the clouds again as they lazily floated by. They looked so majestic. If I could choose to be anything, I'd be a cloud. Some people would pick to be fictional characters or celebrities, but for me, it's anything that has the freedom to drift wherever it wants.
"Nakamura," the teacher's sharp voice cut through my thoughts, dragging me back to reality. "If you're so distracted, let's see if your English is as sharp as your daydreaming skills."
She scribbled something on the board with a smirk. The sentence she wrote seemed more like a riddle than a translation exercise:
"The early bird catches the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese."
This wasn't your typical translation. It required nuance, cultural understanding, and wit—something even native speakers might struggle with.
I approached the board, trying not to groan audibly. I didn't want to get punished, though considering the way this school operates, that seemed unlikely.
After analyzing the phrase, I gave my translation. The classroom fell silent.
The teacher hesitated, her expression a mix of shock and frustration, before finally saying, "You may return to your seat."
I walked back to my desk, ignoring the growing whispers around me. Were they impressed or just gossiping? Either way, I preferred to stay under the radar. I hate standing out—it always leads to more work.
I suppose I was meant to be an example of why you should pay attention in class. The irony was that I had been listening; I just didn't look like it. The teacher had been explaining noun phrases, not idioms.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully until, after school, Mrs. Kobayashi, the English teacher, called me to her office.
On my way there, I briefly considered telling Kisaragi about Suzuki's confession. But I doubted he'd be much help.
Hiro was another option, but given his extensive connections to girls, it might be counterproductive.
Kagura could work but considering her disappointment to me already knowing Suzuki on the first day, it seemed unwise.
Then there was Ito. Nope, he'd probably think I meant she was just a female friend.
Turning a corner, I accidentally bumped into someone—a student I assumed to be a senpai.
"I'm sorry," I said, looking up apologetically.
She stood, brushing off her uniform with exaggerated movements. Her sharp features and cold gaze gave the impression of someone who took insults—intentional or not—very personally.
"What species of idiot are you?" she snapped.
I'd never been called an idiot before. Usually, it was "prodigy" or something similar. This was... oddly refreshing, though coming from someone who looked ready to pack me in a box, it wasn't exactly comforting.
"Uh..." I managed to reply.
"Oh, not only are you an idiot, but you're a man. That makes so much sense. All I have to do now is kill you," she said, narrowing her eyes in pure disdain.
Well, that escalated quickly. What kind of inhumane person is this? And what does being a man have to do with anything?
"Umm, don't you think that's a bit extreme?" I took a cautious step back.
For wild animals like tigers, backing away slowly is supposed to help. Maybe it would work on her too.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Caught. Looks like I'd have to run.
I bolted, and to my shock, she kept up with me. Granted, I wasn't running at full speed—maybe 40%—but still, she managed to stay close. She had to be an athlete, and a good one at that.
After a few frantic turns, I slipped into Mrs. Kobayashi's office and shut the door behind me, panting.
When I turned around, I found Mrs. Kobayashi fast asleep at her desk.
I walked over and tapped her shoulder gently. She groaned and sat up abruptly, flinching so hard she nearly fell back into her chair.
"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.
"Nooo... Why'd you sneak up on me?" she groaned, rubbing her head.
"Sorry about that."
"It's fine. So, why are you here?"
"You called me."
"Uhh... Oh, right!" She cleared her throat, trying to regain composure. "I wanted to talk to you about daydreaming in class."
"...Okay."
She launched into a story about her school days. Apparently, she used to daydream a lot too but always had friends to cover for her.
One day, a boy asked her out. She turned him down, preferring to focus on her friends. Later, the boy asked out one of her friends, who accepted. Tragically, the friend became a gang target because of her association with him and was killed.
"Well, that's the story. Now, shoo~ shoo~" she said, waving me out before I could ask any questions.
What kind of bizarre story was that? Not only was it cryptic, but it also felt like a colossal waste of time. It's obvious it has a hidden meaning, but she doesn't want to tell me.