Wristband
Disclaimers: I do not own Tonari no Kaibutsu-Kun.
Natsume's sneakers made soft, squeaky noises on the linoleum floor. The loud emptiness of the school hallways chased it deep into small dusty corners, where it shrunk into itself. Late afternoon sunlight awoken shades of amber in the whorls of her hair, and her eyes grew as bright as molten gold. A canvas bag hung from her shoulders, hollow from the absence of her keys, about which she'd been scolding herself in the walk from Mitty's house back to school.
"2-B," she murmured as she passed a slew of classrooms. "Damn. Why am I so forgetful? 2-C, 2-D... 2-E. Finally."
Natsume slid open the door. Perhaps she'd been too peeved at herself, and she'd overdone it, since the whooshing effect of the door sparked a host of dust motes into the air. The room, only a few hours ago so filled to the brim with laughter and conversations, stood silent and empty with its rows of chairs and desks. Her memory saw Haru perched on the window sill, about to launch to the grass fields below, while Shizuku fretted over her new reference book, since she'd finished the school's textbooks a long time ago. But Haru was at the batting centre, scaring away middle-school kids, and Shizuku was at home, studying a recipe. No one was here, except for her and a few teachers, and the teachers are a floor and some rooms away, working at their desks. The classroom was so deserted she could even hear her own breathing.
She sighed. Emptied of her friends, 2-E felt so alien to her. Her fingernails skimmed the edge of every desk that she walked past, until she reached the one she called hers. It was nearly at the back, but not enough that people would class her a delinquent, and just enough to be in the teacher's blind spot. She had desired the window seat, but someone else had gotten to it before she did.
She had missed it at first, but when she did see it, she laughed.
A black wristband rested on the desk next to hers. It hit the sun at a certain angle so that when the glass in the window fractured sunlight into a multitude of rays, it would be bathed all in aged gold. White threads etched out a small 'ADIDAS' on its lowermost corner. It seemed eager to be as inconspicuous as possible, providing comfort only to its owner, doubting its own value even when it proved itself to be of quality.
A smile broke her face. "Sasayan," she whispered, in a way she only allowed herself to say when she had made sure there was no one else to hear it. It brought a small sigh to her lips. The name ached like an old want in her chest.
Absently, her fingers found the band. Natsume ran her thumb over its brim, nail teasing every worn and loose thread. How often had she seen it on his slender arm, raised high on the baseball pitch? She'd lost count of the many times her eyes strayed to his hand, up the length of his tanned arm, to his skinny wrist, all just for this piece of black cloth. Once, some boys had teased him on its overuse, and she'd wanted to smack them on their heads for it. Asako, you're crazy, she'd told herself. And it's Sasayan.
Still, it was none of their business what Sasayan chose to wear.
In a move she could never really explain afterwards, she brought the wristband to her nose and inhaled in its scent. It was of warm summer air, of times spent wading in rivers, of the crackles of a bonfire, of long train rides spent asleep on his shoulder. There was a certain chalkiness to it too, probably from his baseball gloves. It felt almost hot to her touch. After all, it had been left on his desk since their last class, and it was an unseasonably warm day too.
She slipped it on to her own wrist. It hung a little too loosely. Or maybe, as she fingered the fabric, it had grown too elastic? Natsume had seen its owner wore it through early morning dashes in the rain, and that was not the worst. The boy was rough with his belongings. Natsume smiled as she breathed it in once more.
When she looked up, Sasayan was staring at her. She saw the remnants of a smile as it melted, his eyes flickering from her face to the object on her wrist. He had left his shirt wide open at the collar and she swallowed somewhat at the sight of his tanned clavicle. The moment felt a little short of eternity as a droplet of sweat rolled down her thigh.
It was a strangely warm day, wasn't it?
Natsume started laughing.
"Hiii," she stretched out the word as she threw the band onto his desk. It slipped, and fell to the floor. Her hand began to reach for it, but at the same time she jerked a few steps back, and it must have made for a strange sight, because Sasayan's eyebrows rose. "I... I left my house keys behind. Um, wait, where did I put it again?"
She bent down too quickly and her forehead bumped against the edge of her desk. "Ow, ow, ow!"
For a moment, as Natsume took advantage of her injury to cover her face, neither of them said anything.
Then, he laughed.
"Natsume-san," he chuckled. Still screwing her eyes shut, she heard the thud of his bag on his desk. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."
Worry drained out of her. "Really? You promise?"
"Sure." The word tripped off his tongue easily. "Everyone has a hobby."
Wait. Hobby?
"Huh?" she looked at him from behind her hand.
"Really, you should've told me sooner." Sasayan leant down and picked up his band. "I've a pair of old shorts that I don't wear anymore, but I'm pretty sure they still smell like me. Or is your fetish confined to just wristbands?"
Fetish?
Fetish...
FETISH?
"What! Sasayan-kun, I do not have a fetish!"
"Don't be shy-"
She burst to her feet. "I DON'T HAVE A FETISH!"
"Then why were you smelling my wristband?"
"I-I," she looked at his shoes, at the window, at the blackboard, anywhere but the smirk on his face. She didn't register it then, but weirdly, there was a slight colouring to his cheeks. "It- well, it's so smelly anyway, so who cares!"
Natsume stomped off, her cheeks all heated up, while Sasayan and his jokes and teases and laughter followed behind her, out of school and all the way to her neighbourhood, where she stopped in front of her front door without her keys again, so she had to sit at the back of Sasayan's bicycle because her feet throbbed from all the walking, and she had to spend the whole ride back to school thinking, SASAYAN-KUN SAW ME SMELLING HIS WRISTBAND AND NOW HE'S GOING TO THINK I'M A WEIRDO AND MITTY'S GOING TO KNOW AND HARU'S GOING TO KNOW AND EVERYONE'S GOING TO KNOW AND-
Her hands were bunched in his team jacket, so she felt every quake and quiver of his stomach when he laughed at her. And he laughed frequently.
Natsume had never felt more embarrassed in her life.
Hi there! I hope you've enjoyed this short story. Have a good day!
