transparent


It's summer, and although it's only been since last season he transferred into this academy, it feels more like a decade.

For the most part, he doesn't feel ignored in the least. He has always been aware he's attractive, it's not like he does anything hide it. He likes how he looks, perhaps not the attention, but he's comfortable with his face, and his body, but he's most proud of his hands. He thinks hands are the most powerful part of the body. You can do so much with hands, and he thinks his own are quite nice - his mother said he inherited her own father's pianist hands.

And so, he's never really had someone not notice him before. He's never been the fly on the wall. When he was a child, the adults doted on him, pinched his cheeks, listened eagerly to his stories. His height and cheerful personality made him popular with his classmates. His parents spoiled him recklessly. As he grew up, that didn't really change - except for the cheek pinching. (Unless you were his grandmother, in which case, things really hadn't changed at all.)

It's probably because of how generous God has been to him, to give him such a good life, that this frustrates him so much. He works hard, every day, to have her notice him. Sometimes, he spends hours after school, just reading. Urban legends, cryptology, UFOs, hauntings, anything 'unnatural'... surely, he was so full of such information now that he could throw it up. Still, she doesn't notice him.

He recalls the first time he displayed such obsessive behavior actually had not been so long ago; she'd mentioned she liked some of Tchaikovsky's work and thought it had an interesting effect on music on the whole. He spent an entire week digesting anything related to composer. He didn't stop, not even for class. He thought he could sweat music notes by the weekend.

But his wealth of knowledge never impressed her.

And it frustrated him, the normal topics never kept her attention. He had asked, some time ago, what tv shows she followed, and her response was a simple, "I don't follow anything like that." What kind of music do you like? "Whatever I happen to be listening to." What's your favorite color? "Some colors aren't even worth the attention they get unless they're in combination with another color." Okay, what about food? "I'll eat anything as long as it's edible. It's just insulting to waste food." Ah, you're right, Miss Suzumiya.

He doesn't give up, but he knows when a conversation isn't going anywhere.

It is difficult to get to know her. He's learned there are different methods to get to know a person, though - now he knows listening is good enough.

Now he knows what tv shows she follows, she talks about a particular drama that frustrates her on their walks home. He knows what kind of music she likes - Top 40 and American Indie Rock. Her favorite colors are red and yellow, she loves food and will eat anything put in front of her, but prefers to make her own meals. He's learned her height, how to tell when she's in a bad mood, when she's in a good mood, and he's learned that on rainy days, she always makes her way to the diner by the train tracks, gets a cup of hot chocolate and makes him share his lemon cake with her. Of course, he always gets some of her chocolate cake.

It's a rainy day, and she reaches over with her fork to pick off a piece of lemon cake. She takes a bite, makes a pleased noise, and repeats the action.

"Koizumi-kun," she says with a full mouth and a chiding tone, "if you don't drink your coffee quickly, it'll get cold."

"Of course, Miss Suzumiya," he says with a big smile and a gulp of his coffee. He isn't completely invisible, at least.