Disclaimer: I do not own the Wallflower/Perfect Girl Evolution/Yamato Nadeshiko Shichihenge. I did create Mayumi because I forgot her old friends' names and didn't feel like looking it up, and I don't know anything about the guy so his qualities are imaginary too.
Author's Note: I think everyone has imagined what it would be like for Sunako to confront the guy who first called her ugly. Unfortunately in one of the later manga, she gets to, so my fanfic plans were kind of spoiled. Instead I began to wonder what kind of state of mind Sunako must have been in for his words to have such an effect. I decided she was easily impressionable, and her period of darkness and ignorance to the world around her is what created her stubbornness, and her hatred of math. Sunako's POV always makes me want to experiment with different styles, so bear with me, and, I hope, enjoy ^^
Trivia, I've chosen my titles for my stories based on the titles of songs, and this one is Burning Hearts by the Winterpills. Also ginger ice cream is really good.
Prompts: 30_romances: , hate and the like ; emotions
18_coda: 8. incidental music~unnoticed
30_kisses: 26. if only I could make you mine
"Good morning." The smooth tenor in which it was delivered, the slight inflection on morning, the way the corners of his mouth were always turned up as if in preparation for a smile, even if he was talking to his friend behind me, my heart melted into putty and sank into my toes.
Courage, I thought to myself, preparing for world-class embarrassment that could never logically occur.
"Good morning, sempai!" I greeted, perhaps a little overzealously.
His warm brown eyes flicked over to me, his eyebrows raised in the smallest indication of surprise. He gave me a short nod, a twitch at the corners of his mouth—was that a smile?—and he passed me to join his friend. They walked away together: he listened sympathetically to his friend's complaints, his delicate brow furrowing in heartfelt sympathy.
Then Mayumi-chan called out, "Good morning, sempai!" and he favored her with a wave and a smile so broad I could see his teeth. I tried to imagine the surge of emotions if he had offered me such a smile, but... nothing.
Mayumi-chan wore a sickeningly cheerful grin on her unjustly pretty face as she bounced over to me. She had taught me how to observe and savor all his delicate emotions.
"Good morning, Sunako-chan." A quick peek over her shoulder told her the coast was clear. In a fierce whisper she continued, "Did you see that?! Did you see? He smiled and he waved! I thought my heart would fly out of my chest if he stopped to talk to me! Oh my goodness, my heart is pounding so hard! Did you say good morning to him? What did he say to you? Did he smile?"
The vision of his smile was burned into my retinas. It was easy to conjure up the image. I lied.
"Oh, Sunako-chan, what are we going to do?" Moans of longing broken up by excited giggles. "Do you want to watch P.E. again today? You don't mind missing math, do you?"
"No, no, let's go watch P.E. Yamamoto-sensei won't miss me anyway."
"That's right. Who needs math anyway? I'm not going to need it, I'm going to get married right out of high school and be a housewife!"
"Why would you want to be a housewife, Mayumi-chan? You have the rest of your life to sit at home and do nothing. Besides, you don't even like cooking."
"No, you're a much better cook than I am, Sunako-chan!" She put her arm around my shoulder and steered me towards homeroom. "Maybe you should be the housewife!"
"I don't want to be a housewife," I protested, but she wagged her finger at me.
"That's what real ladies do," she explained knowingly. "Use your looks and charm to win men over. When they're in the palm of your hand, there's nothing they won't do for you. You won't need to work at all!"
"Real ladies?" I shook my head. "You're quite the feminist, aren't you?"
Mayumi smiled sweetly with her head tilted slightly to the left in that idiosyncratic way of hers. Her silky blonde hair was pulled up into pigtails today; when she smiled, they looked lop-sided.
"Not everyone can get by on their looks like you can," was all I could say.
"Oh, come on, Sunako-chan," she teased. "You're prettier than you think you are, you just don't know how to show it."
The school chimes over the P.A. system ended our conversation there. With a wave she disappeared, and I disappeared too into the last desk on the right, in a sea of classmates who barely knew my name.
Mayumi rested her shapely chin in her hands and leaned her elbows on the railing, sighing wistfully. "When are they going to switch teams?"
"There are other people in the class too, you know," I laughed. The second floor science hall was the best place to observe his P.E. class, and the nearby classrooms were always empty at this hour. My math grade was slowly disintegrating, but it was worth it to see his smiling face cheering on his team, his broad shoulders in action, his easy camaraderie with his classmates. He was popular, attractive, kind, and twenty feet away.
"Oh-oh-oh, Sunako-chan!" She hit me in excitement. "They're switching, he's in now!"
"I know, I'm watching! You don't have to hit me!"
"Sorry, sorry I'm just so excited, look, there he is!"
"I see him, Mayumi-chan, don't point! He'll see us!"
"He's looking this way!"
Indeed, he had glanced this way for just a second as the ball soared upward, but his gaze returned to the ground with it. Close call.
His friend did notice us. He tapped him on the shoulder and pointed.
Mayumi gripped my arm so tightly I thought she'd snap it off.
My breath caught in my throat as that warm brown stare found me—us. I wished those eyes had lingered on me longer.
The ball blindsided him in the face, knocking him to the ground. Mayumi made a noise like a mouse being trodden on. His friends came to his aid, and he was able to walk it off, thank goodness. A sudden panic gripped me: surely he would look back up, perhaps to wave and show us he was fine, or just in curiosity, or—regardless, how should I act? Waving back too happily would be cold to his injuries, so should I clap a hand over my mouth in shock? What if he mistook that for suppressing laughter? What if he thought I was laughing at him?
Mayumi-chan giggled in an octave higher than usual.
"What are you laughing at? He could have been hurt!"
"He was hurt because he was looking up here," she breathed through a fit of excitement, "at us!"
"Well, of course, but he could have—why are you laughing?!"
"I'm not," she panted, wiping her eyes. "Oh my god, I thought I was going to die when he looked up here! Hold me, Sunako-chan!"
"You've nearly broken my arm already. Calm down."
"How can you be so calm? You're so strong, much stronger than me." Steadied on her own two feet, she looked at me with fire in her eyes. "Sunako-chan, you have to confess your love to him!"
My heart stopped.
"It's not right to go through life hiding such powerful feelings inside!"
My heart started, reluctantly.
"He deserves to know how you feel about him! Even if he turns you down, maybe in a couple months he will reconsider, you know, if he's got his eye on you. And on the other hand, you could end up with a boyfriend!" She smiled, and her pigtails tilted like balancing scales.
"Right." … "Wait, Mayumi-chan! You can't just spring this on me, I can't confess to him today!"
"Yes you can! Come, let's practice!" She took me by the hand and dragged me into the science classroom.
"Now, remember what we practiced," Mayumi assured me in the hallway, "and you'll do fine. You can do this, Sunako-chan. You're prettier than you think you are, remember!"
"I think I'm going to throw up…"
"You can throw up afterwards! Now go!" She pushed me into the empty science classroom.
There he was!
The school uniform fit him like it was tailored to every curve of his body, from his strong, athletic legs to his wide shoulders, those arms thrust into his pockets in an air of casual grace that no other man could imitate. His dark hair was a little tousled from P.E. class, but otherwise he was as beautiful as ever. I had come to appreciate him…no, more than that. I—I had better save those feelings for words.
"Nakahara-san, right?" he pronounced. A shiver passed through me.
"Yes."
"What was it you wanted to tell me?"
I paused. Courage, I thought to myself.
"I—I've liked you since freshman year."
His eyebrows raised just the slightest, but surely he knew what to expect when I (read: Mayumi-chan) passed him a note asking him to meet me in an empty classroom after school. He sighed forcefully and shifted his weight. My heart pounded painfully as my stomach threatened to swallow every emotion but fear.
"I hate ugly girls."
The words didn't register. He said them so calmly, so matter-of-factly, he might have been answering a teacher's prompt. He watched me for a moment—I'm not sure what I did in that moment—and he left. My eyes did not follow him, did not move from the spot he had been standing.
Mayumi-chan rushed in eagerly, peppering me with questions, trying to goad an answer out of me, but I did not hear her. I heard the blood pounding in my ears, that was all.
I hate ugly girls.
I was a vacuum of emotion. A black hole.
I hate ugly girls.
It hit me. A tsunami of fear and shame and gruesome, gruesome self-loathing raged through me; I collapsed to the floor in a puddle of unstoppable tears, my limbs lost drive and were numb to my directions; Mayumi shook me haphazardly, Sunako, Sunako-chan, can you hear me? Sunako-chan, what did he say to you? Why are you crying?
I remember staring into the mirror that night, the one I had decorated with jewels and Sharpie and print club stickers of Mayumi and me. Even when she made silly faces she was pretty, with those big eyes and small chin and perfect little nose. And then there was me, who managed to look goofy when I had aimed for cute. Wearing makeup couldn't salvage anything presentable out of this awkward face. No matter how I tried, I would never be able to match Mayumi's effortless beauty.
With a bowl of ginger ice cream, I collapsed into the couch and searched for something on TV to distract me from the melancholy of my own mind. This was what girls did when they were rejected.
I scrolled through the channels.
I scrolled through the channels.
I scrolled through the channels.
Even television thought I was too ugly to watch it. I was surprised the screen didn't break when I looked at it with my flat nose and thin lips and
No, no no no. That way led only madness. Maybe a movie would be more successful. The only movies I owned were ones that had been given to me by Mayumi-chan and my mother: romantic and sweet to the point of nausea. That way led more depression.
At the bottom of the pile was Friday the 13th. Was this an old relic of my dad's? With a bitter sigh I chose fear over sadness; if I was going to wallow in misery, better to cry myself to sleep in fear than in self-hatred.
As the movie rolled on, my mood…lifted. There was a gruesome logic to the horror movie that ticked in synchronized time with my new cynicism: in the end, everyone was murdered, bosomy blonde and awkward nerd alike. It didn't matter if you ran from Jason or if you tried to hide, or you knelt down and sobbed and begged for forgiveness. Everyone died in the end.
That night, I decided to stop trying.
"S-Sunako-chan?"
I looked up. It was Mayumi-chan.
"Do you want to watch P.E. today?"
How she could assume I would have even the remotest desire to watch his P.E. class anymore…
I stood up. "I have to go to the bathroom," I explained, and she trailed after me.
She primped while I washed my hands. I trained my eyes on the sink.
"You're not wearing makeup today."
"…No."
"Why not?"
The truth would hurt her feelings, but she'd know if I lied. "What's the point?"
"To look pretty. You want him to notice you right?" I said nothing. "You can't give up now, Sunako-chan. Don't give up now that he's just learned your name! Come on, let's go watch P.E. and you'll feel better once you see those beautiful brown eyes on you."
I clenched my fists beneath the running water. "He doesn't even know my name. He just knows I'm one of those ugly girls."
She arranged her hair along her shoulders, admiring her reflection. She made kissy faces to check her lipstick. "He just doesn't know you yet, on the inside. Come on, I want to watch."
"Then go."
Mayumi looked at me. I stared at the faucet as if I could turn it off with my mind. "Sunako-chan… what's wrong?"
"I'm not like you, Mayumi-chan. I can't do this. I'm not pretty enough to… to…"
She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. "Snap out of it, Sunako-chan! This isn't like you! You're much prettier than you think. Every girl looks better with a little makeup on. Come here, let me do it for you."
"I don't want makeup!" I pushed her away. "I'm tired of every conversation being about makeup or boys! I don't like talking about those things anymore!"
She looked confused, like I was missing something obvious. "But…that's what girls do."
I spat, "Then I don't want to be a girl anymore."
Mayumi made the same expression she made when she washed her lipstick. It mangled her face in a way no makeup could fix. She fled from the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. The water ran over my hands until they turned pruney.
"Hold this," I ordered, dropping another large grocery bag into Kyohei's more than capable arms. After thanking the store owner, we returned to the street. It was rather balmy and mild, but after the unusually cold last couple days I didn't mind the clouds, as long as there was no rain.
"Let's get lobster," he suggested, shifting the bag's weight to balance out the other two.
"All right."
"Really?!" he asked in excitement.
"Yeah. You bring money?" I retorted. It was a low blow to Kyohei's stomach, but just saying 'no' every time got boring.
"You're so mean," he sulked, but he'd get over it.
The streets were fairly empty today, being an off-day for the wives, mothers, and scary ghostly high school student who often shopped in this area. Walking with Kyohei drew a little more attention to me than usual, but it wasn't anything I wasn't used to.
A young couple was standing in the sidewalk in front of us; as I stepped to walk around, I caught a glimpse of the girl's smiling face, tilted slightly to the side so her pigtails were lopsided. The sight seemed vaguely familiar… I turned fully around to get a better look. The girl had a pretty face and a bright pink jacket that looked a few years old. The mouth of the man she was standing next to was turned up at the corners like he was ready to smile at any moment. I didn't recognize him at all.
"Sunako-chan." Kyohei's voice called my attention back. He was watching me. "Do you know them?" He jerked his head towards the couple.
I shook my head nonchalantly. "No." I glanced back again just to make sure—there was something very familiar about those pigtails—She was gaping at Kyohei like Jesus had just descended.
"Come on," he muttered angrily, and began to walk away.
I laughed and followed. "You don't think she was pretty?"
"I don't care if she was. I don't like getting stared at like a freak show." He grunted as he shifted the weight of his grocery bags. "Hey, did you just hear your name?"
"Huh? No."
"I think that girl just said your name."
I gave him a meaningful look. "Does she look like the kind of person I'd be friends with?"
Kyohei just laughed. "Neither do I, but looks can be deceiving."