Chapter 12: Hikigaya's Mystery Woman.

He didn't know her name and it bothered him a little. He didn't know why but it did. In his mind he called her the taller woman, the woman with the slender figure, the woman who didn't wear high heels to walk around on campus.

Like most men he liked women who wore high heels. There was something about that particular piece of footwear which made men feel more attracted towards women and of course they knew all about it, used that same fact to lure them into a trap, a trap called love.

Hikigaya Hachiman didn't believe in love. But he believed in the thing called infatuation, a sudden attraction for the opposite sex. He believed this was somewhat similar and he could admit that to himself, something his seventeen year old high school self could never admit.

He felt rather proud with this knowledge. He despised change, could never come to terms with it, but now he was learning to embrace development and growth in his own character. He was being a bit of a hypocrite, he realized. He was being an adult.

Not quite, he thought.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, there were the leftovers of an essay he wrote in childhood, which now sounded like a caricature of the perfect adult. He didn't remember those days with rose tinted glasses. His eyes were perfect.

So were hers.

He didn't know her name and it bothered him a little. He didn't know why but it did. In his mind he called her the woman with the light purple eyes. He didn't know the name of the exact shade, lavender, lilac, violet, these were all synonyms to him, not names.

He was being a typical male with no knowledge of colours. He envied that about women.

"So tell me if I understand this correctly, Hikigaya. You noticed that I have purple coloured eyes. And this nameless female university student you saw on campus also had purple coloured eyes. But her eyes are not exactly like mine." Hiratsuka-sensei was confused. "I don't know if you are trying to flatter me or not, but this is not exactly how you go about flirting with a grown woman."

"I'm not flirting. I'm curious." He found himself repeating the catchphrase of a certain kohai of his. "Besides, I thought you could help me determine a solution to this problem."

"You want to know the exact colour of this woman's eyes." Hiratsuka-sensei sounded a bit annoyed. "Well, I don't know how to go about this. Did you at least click a picture of this mystery woman that I can look at? Then maybe I will be able to help you a little."

"Of course not." He sounded outraged at the suggestion. "I'm not a pervert. I don't go around taking sneaky photos of women."

"Then there's not a lot I can do." Hiratsuka-sensei said gruffly, feeling a bit down. "Why did you come to me anyways, Hikigaya? I'm not good with love advice. In fact, I'm not good with anything even closely related to love."

"This isn't about love, sensei. I came to you because your eyes are similar to hers. And since you are also a beautiful women, I thought you would have plenty of people comment on your eyes. I imagined they would go about saying something like, "Hiratsuka-san, you have such lovely lavender eyes." And then you will correct them by saying something like, "It's not lavender. It's amethyst." This might have happened a number of times in your life and so, it stands to reason that you might know every shade of the colour purple in existence."

He thought his logic was sound. Hiratsuka-sensei would help him decipher each shade of the colour purple and he was certain somewhere in a rotten corner of his mind he would find a name for it to associate with the colour he saw in the blink of her eyes, this nameless woman, his mystery woman.

"Look, Hikigaya, I don't know what you are saying. And frankly I don't want to know. But if it helps, recently Onizuka was looking at me and when I asked him what was he was staring at, he blushed and embarrassedly replied that he was looking at my plum eyes. So there, maybe that's the shade of purple you are looking for in your mystery woman."

Hikigaya Hachiman wondered whether his sensei was this much innocent. He also wondered how the hell Eikichi Onizuka got employed as a teacher at this prestigious university in the first place. The blonde haired, former delinquent turned teacher taught sociology. But according to Hachiman, Onizuka was a prime example of what was wrong with the society in the first place.

Guess, he was a hands on teacher, he thought.

"…Sensei, I don't think Onizuka-sensei was talking about your eyes, there."

"Huh? Then you think he was talking about the fruit." Hiratsuka-sensei rubbed her chin. It was rather cute. "He did look rather hungry."

"Of course he did." He mumbled.

Hiratsuka Shizuka-sensei couldn't help him. It was okay. He was a man who liked mysteries. For the time being, this nameless woman would be one of them.

He didn't know her name and it bothered him a little. He didn't know why. In his mind he called her the woman with the light purple eyes, the woman with the long flowing hair which reached somewhere between the middle of her thighs and knees, the woman with the light blue-ish hair.

At times he wondered whether there was more to this then attraction. He told himself his behavior was not like a stalker. He didn't look for her, go out of his way to see her on the campus. Sometimes he would have a thought or two about her and he would say a wish or two to the rotten gods of romcoms and he didn't know whether his prayers were answered or whether it was a coincidence, but he would catch a glimpse of her in the dining area, every now and then on campus and to him that was enough.

He didn't want to know her personally because he feared he might not like her as a person. There were a handful of persons he liked, the rest he tolerated. For some reason he didn't want her to be on either of those lists. He didn't want to like her because that would lead to complications which he was not prepared to deal with. He also didn't want her to be a nuisance, something he would just have to tolerate. But what did he want of her, he didn't quite know yet and that was bothersome.

He noticed her clothes would be disheveled sometimes, the top two buttons of her blouse undone and he wanted to go up there and tell her off because like him, he figured most of the men would have noticed how big her breasts were and would want - he shook his head and rebuked himself internally.

He was not like that, he had to tell himself.

Look at those scrunchies in her hair and around her wrists. Those look handmade he thinks. He wonders whether she knows to sew. It's a lost art form he thinks. He wonders a lot of things, yet he can't think of a way to approach her and start up a conversation because he is Hikigaya Hachiman and he doesn't do those types of things.

Though lately he has been trying to be a little more outspoken because otherwise he would be crushed under the heel of so many people on campus and that is something he blames on the newer acquaintances he had made. Not like he dislikes them, but it was hard to talk to them initially. There was also the fact that he was nearly killed.

He thinks she is not like that. Hopefully, she is not like that.

The women with a –

Wait, that is it. He could do it. He finally had something to talk to her about. This was one of the few reasons he liked his rotten dead fish eyes. They were accurate and perceptive and now all he had to do was gather the courage and walk up to her table in the eating area and break the ice.

"Hello."

His nameless mystery woman acknowledged his presence, but she didn't say anything else back. A woman of few words, he could empathies. He was a man of few words as well. But this would do the trick. He knew that intruding upon someone else's privacy while they were eating was socially frowned upon, but he wasn't in the habit of looking a gift horse in the mouth.

Not saying she had a horse's mouth. Her mouth was, well, her lips were – the word plum came to mind. He was reminded first of the fruit and then something else. He blushed at the memory and cursed himself for chatting with Hiratsuka-sensei today when he should have instead waited for the opportunity to present itself.

And now it had.

He played it cool.

"You have something on your…"

He trailed off and scratched the side of his cheek to show her and let her know what he was talking about.

"What?"

She stopped eating and looked at him like he was an idiot.

Okay, he hadn't expected this to happen.

So far the plan had been simple. Gesture to her face and tell her she had something on her cheek. Girls were self conscious about those types of things. Then she would wipe off the thing which was on her face, probably an ink smudge or whatever and then she would be grateful to him. He will then take advantage of her gratefulness to introduce himself to which she will have no choice but to introduce herself as well.

And that's how he planned to get her name.

It's not complicated.

But, he didn't think there would be more to this conversation.

"You have something on your face." He told her.

"Where?"

Once more she stopped eating her light meal, which consisted now of the last remains of a half finished sandwich. She was about three-forth done. He wondered whether this is what she usually ate or was there some budgetary restraints. Most university students faced that, again something he would understand and empathies with. He didn't know why that mattered, but it did.

"It's right there." He extended his index finger. A part of him dared him to touch her skin and show her which spot he meant but he quickly choked out that voice. He was trying to be smooth, not wanting to be a creep. The line between those two states, especially for a guy who looked like him was rather thin.

His mystery woman had her hands occupied, greasy from the sandwich. The napkin on the table also had a smudge. He thought luck was shinning on him. He had caught her having a snack which didn't require using chopsticks. Those were rather rare occasions. In other words it was an unique opportunity which he didn't quite want to let slip pass his hands.

"Here let me." He asked for her permission in silence.

Even now she didn't open her mouth, but gave a small nod.

He dared to touch her skin. He extended his thumb and he was about to make contact when a female voice broke his concentration and intruded upon the moment.

"Hey Kawasaki, hurry up!"

He had almost done it, but he stopped himself. Then he looked at the other woman with an expression of annoyance. She had brown hair, brown eyes and from what he could tell, a rather bossy attitude. He didn't like her as far as first impressions were concerned.

"Fine. I'm almost done eating, Ayuzawa." His mystery woman said.

Then she turned to him and talked to him, directly, having finished her meal and after wiping her hands on the napkin.

"So what do I have on my face?"

"It probably an ink smudge or something." He said without pointing, raising his finger or trying to initiate any kind of physical contact. The right moment had passed and it would never come back. But still he would make do with what he had. "Right there, under your right eye."

She gave a dry chuckle.

"Not sure I can do anything about that."

"Why?" He asked like an idiot.

"It's a birthmark." she explained.

When she left with her friend or acquaintance, he was left to his own thoughts. His mystery woman, tall and slender with light purple eyes, having a birth mark, no a beauty spot under her right eye, smooth legs and long flowing blue hair which reached somewhere between the middle of her thighs and knees, he finally had a name for her.

Kawasaki.

Kawasaki what?

What?

He had been such an idiot, thinking her beauty spot was an ink smudge. He had definitely made the worst possible first impression that was humanly possible. She clearly thought he was just another guy who wanted to chat her up, flirt with her a little bit and then try to go for a casual hook up.

That wasn't his plan. His plan was to get her name, so that he could be less curious about her. But so far the job seemed half done. Well no matter.

For now he would know her and call her as:

"Kawasaki Something."

A/N: Ah, finally wrote in 8man POV. And it's the Kawasaki chapter. Hope you guys liked it(The chapter is a biggie, 2500+ words). Tell me whether it was fluffy or not. Also, the Shizuka bit at the start, I couldn't help myself.

Here are the options for the next chapter:

Option 1: Ami Kawashima – Toradora.

Option 2: Makise Kurisu – Steins;Gate.

Option 3: Kitayama Shizuku – Irregular at Magic High

Option 4: Tomoko Kuroki – WataMote.

Option 5: Akeno Himejima – High School DXD.

Please pick any of the above options or suggest a character you want in the review.

Hope everyone enjoyed reading this chapter.

Leave lots and lots of reviews, follow and fave.

Won't betray your dreams.

UXI Extra: Mordred Pendragon and Edward Elric became close friends on campus. Both of them bonded over the colour red, their mutual hatred towards their respective fathers, their cool powers, his automail, her armour and also their short tempers. If you called Edward short, Mordred will call you an ambulance. If you called Mordred a woman, Edward will inform the mortuary. The two of them started creating memes. It was the start of a good friendship.