Chapter 6: A painting was sacrificed in the process of keeping the peace

It started with a push.

I was passing by a couple of my classmates on the way from the bathroom when a shoulder hit my own. It wasn't anything too strong to make me fall, but merely enough to disrupt my balance. Aki gave a surprised yelp when they almost got knocked off my shoulder from the force, my hand being the only safety net preventing them from falling.

When I looked back to see who did it, none of the children seemed to have noticed what happened, too occupied with chatting about some newly released video game.

Giving them the benefit of the doubt, I merely shrugged it off and continued on my way, petting Aki in apology for disrupting their nap.

(A stroke of my hand calmed him down from his agitation, preventing him from going after the group. Tugging along his pale hand, I led him away from the children.)

A few days later, a couple of my markers went missing from my pencil case. I searched everywhere and wracked my memory for any clues before I decided to leave it be. Those markers were something Oji-chan bought for me and I loathed wasting new purchases so I was a bit annoyed.

The day after, the same markers that went missing were being used by Honda Honoka, one of the popular girls in the classroom. I stared at them for a couple of seconds before looking up at her face.

As if sensing the intent aimed at her, the girl looked up curiously only to see my blank expression and stilled; too scared to move under the heavy weight of my stare.

I held eye contact with her for a solid minute before pointedly looking down, forcing her to follow my gaze to the markers in her hand. As she made the connection to my look aimed towards her, a nervous expression broke out on her face, there was a bead of sweat forming on her temple as she avoided my gaze. This exchange was carried on throughout the day with Aki laughing every time she flinched away from my gaze.

By the time dismissal was called, the markers were reluctantly returned.

Was there another way to get my markers back without hounding the girl?

Yes.

Would I have chosen that way?

No.

Was it wrong of me?

Debatable.

Did I feel shame for pressuring her to give them back?

Absolutely not.

I may like children, but even I know when it was necessary to teach them the error of their ways. If I had to shoot unimpressed looks towards Honda for her to understand the situation, then so be it. It was effective enough that she even gave me useful information.

Apparently, a boy, "Akihiko-kun", had given them to her after hearing that she needed another set of markers since her's had dried out. Honda knew that they were mine since I always marked the bottom of my markers with a triangle, but she liked them so she kept quiet.

Satisfied with the information and her apology, I smiled and gave her some candy I always kept on hand, patting her head with approval before promising that as long as she asked, I wouldn't mind lending her my markers.

As I was walking away towards my waiting sister, I didn't notice the dazed look in Honda's eyes as she stared at the back of my figure.

The days after that were filled with hostile gazes from Honda's friends and the kids who adored her. It wasn't until a week later that the tension between me and the others hit its peak.

Splat.

Something cold splattered against the left side of my face, effectively wetting and seeping through my uniform. The liquid slid down my chin and splattered onto the table—a sound that was deafening in the suddenly dead-silent room.

Drip drip drip.

Fortunately, I was fast enough to close my eyes before some of the liquid got in them, a reflex deeply ingrained into my body thanks to the lack of personal space the people give me when they see my 'exotic' looks. (I've had my share of random people openly stare at me once in a while, but that doesn't make it any less rude.) Or just young children in general. They haven't fully understood the meaning and aren't aware, so I give them a shaky pass.

Cheeky sticky-fingered buggers.

(I held a death grip on the figure's arm to ground them next to me while I stared Aki down from moving.)

Curious, but still blank-faced as ever, I looked down to see what hit me.

White.

White splotches of paint littered and dripped down from where I was sitting onto the paper in front of me, marring the image on it.

We were in the middle of an art class when our teacher—Suzuki-sensei—was called by Nakahara-sensei, the math teacher next door, to talk about something. After making us promise to behave, she stepped out; leaving a classroom of five and six-year-olds to their own devices. She was probably having an affair judging by the hickeys I saw that she failed to cover after Nakahara-sensei asked to "talk" yesterday. I should leave a list of recommended concealer products; it's getting a bit awkward watching her flail around for an excuse when the kids start asking about them.

I was by my usual lonesome in the middle of the room and content to ignore Honda's shy but observant gaze as I minded my business with the plan to make a painting for my uncle. He was looking rather haggard these days; there was a new contract that he wanted to secure before the year was over. The people he was dealing with were part of the group that thought he was 'unworthy' of the right to take over the company in my stead until I was of age.

They were always promoting themselves or their own sons for Oji-chan's position, fancying themselves as efficient and of the right pedigree to lead the company towards success. Undermining the legitimate hard work he actually put in compared to their half-hearted attempts.

Just like the majority of my co-workers during my residency years, they were inadequate. Giving half-hearted work and relying on their statuses for promotions. The others were left in the dust, grasping at straws to keep a barely acceptable salary befitting of their hard-earned positions while the trust-fund babies were reaping in the benefits of their family name without lifting a finger.

Incompetent indeed.

A loud laugh erupted from the perpetrator on my left, probably proud of his actions.

I didn't bother looking at him.

As I stared at the sad-looking marred painting of my house, I contemplated on what to do. Ignoring the snickers and whispers that filled the room from the spectators, as well as the white paint that coated my face and clothes, I tried to find ways to remedy the mistake.

Unfortunately, there were none. So with a sigh, I got up from my seat and picked up the sheet. Walking to the corner of the room, I tossed the paper into the recycling bin and headed to the sink.

Taking off my glasses, I looked at the white paint that covered the frames while twisting the faucet on with a squeak. My glasses were salvageable as long as I was quick enough with the cleaning. Tearing off a piece of paper towel, I held it under the warm water, patiently waiting for it to become fully wet.

"U-um, Kasai-kun?"

Glancing to my left, I saw Honda nervously walk up to me, her fingers fiddling together as she came closer. "I can clean those for you if you want."

A beat passed before, then the class erupted in protest.

"You don't have to do that, Honoka-chan." Yoshido, her best friend, sputtered. "It's just some paint, it'll wash off easily!"

"Yeah, just come back and sit with us."

"Don't waste your time, Honoka-chan."

"Yeah, he's dirty anyway. The paint'll help him blend in anyways, not like it'll do much though."

Silence.

Eyes darted to the last speaker.

I could feel the proud brown eyes of Kimura Akihiro, unwavering under the curious stares of our classmates, glare at me before softening when he turned to look at Honda.

"Hmm?" I observed with some amusement. "Seems like we've got a lover boy on the loose."

There was a disturbance in the flow of the chatter.

"What do you mean, Akihiro-kun?" One of the boys from the table over asked, curiosity lined in his words at the boy's wording.

With a proud sniff, he folded his arms. "I mean exactly what I said. It's why he looks so dark; because he's so dirty. Papa even said so." he said, finishing his explanation off with a haughty look as if his father's words were law.

Which would probably be true to the kid, since it's someone who he's known his whole life. After all, adults know everything, don't they?

If anything, he just looks adorably stupid. Those cheeks were a very tempting factor.

Not bothering to look up, I took my time to think about this situation we've landed ourselves in while starting on the clean-up process.

Trusting that Honda was reliable enough, I held my glasses up to her. An action that widened the girl's eyes in surprise before she carefully accepted the glasses from me, gently holding the eyewear by its arms.

"Be careful with those, the frames are extremely delicate," I warned quietly as I squeezed the excess water from the ball of tissue paper. Passing it to her next, I made a wiping motion for her. "Just rub it over the paint a little, and it will come off. Okay?"

Nodding her head, she quickly went to work, gently rubbing the paint off just like I had shown her.

After keeping watch for a moment, I was satisfied with her handling and turned to look at the mirror above the sink to see the damage.

As I had thought, the majority of my left side was splattered with paint. The strands of my hair dripped with white and the paint on my face covered most of the upper left portion to dry. White paint was stark against my naturally dark skin, the two colors only bringing out the vibrancy of my red eyes. The clash of colors only made my eyes look more inhuman than they usually were.

My smock would need to come off first before I start on anything though, it'd be a pain to fix later when the paint fully dried.

In the background, Kimura continued spouting nonsense, obviously reiterating what his racistly inclined father told him. I didn't even bother to respond to his rude words or show that I was somehow upset—I wasn't. Everything he was saying now was just something he picked up from his parent; none of this drivel was of his own opinion; a common pattern I've seen from children with overly prideful or bigoted parents, unfortunately.

I didn't have beef with this boy before he started this and no beef even now. His brain development was still at an early age for him to start making opinions on his own anyway.

Arguing against him would be like kicking a puppy. Too young to understand and too willing to follow their owners' every word. It'd look pathetic.

Not to mention, I had something more important to worry about. Aki looked ready to jump the boy at a moment's notice, teeth bared out in a threatening show of dominance as they growled. In my peripheral, more of the shapeless blobs began to creep in through the openings of the room, gathering around me like a protective shield of sorts. I had to mentally send out waves of calm to stop them from joining Aki.

(Thankfully, he understood that I was unbothered by Kimura's words, so he just hung around my shoulder like a heavy blanket; however, that didn't stop him from hissing in distaste.)

After taking off my smock, finding relief in the fact that none of my underclothes were stained barring my collar, I held it up in front of me to see. Most of the paint just landed on my head area so there were only small splatters around the neck area.

Tearing off another piece of tissue paper and wetting it, I started the process of dabbing the paint off the fabric. It didn't take long, so I was able to catch the tail ends of Kimura's mini-speech.

"—and you shouldn't hang around him, Honoka-chan! Papa said that you'll catch the dirty too if you're around people like him."

Looking back at a red and tearful Honda, my eyes caught the trembling of her fingers around my now clean glasses. With the rest of the voicing their agreements due to mob mentality rearing its head, she could only stutter out her protests.

"Th-that's not true, Chikao-kun's just like us. My Kaa-chan works with people who look like him, and nothing's ever happened to her. She said it's rude to just say something so mean just because someone is different from us. It wouldn't be fair to judge someone before getting to know them—"

Unfortunately, her weak voice went by unheard by the rest of our classmates as Kimura clamored for their attention again, boldly walking up to Honda and dragging her back to his table despite her resistance. Something that made me pause for a second. It was obvious that she was barely holding her tears in, and he was just making the situation worse.

"C'mon, Honoka-chan, just sit down," Snatching my glasses out of her grasp, he precariously held them away from her. "You don't need to do anything for that Six-Eyed Baba."

Ah. That's a new one.

It sort of has a nice ring to it.

Looking at his hand, I felt a twinge of annoyance at the sight of his fingers on my lenses.

I absolutely loathed when people do that.

As I trailed my gaze up to see his face, my eyes caught a slight flicker of something behind his ear before it could hide away. It was when I saw the malformed figure on top of his head, that I realized the situation.

Should've known—although, to think it would be someone so young.

With a sigh, I stopped what I was doing and walked over to him.

There was a lull in the conversation. Seeing my unreadable face, he froze at the sudden show of action, not thinking that I would actually do something.

The ones unseen by the class snickered at the deer in headlights look he showed on his face. One that was shakily morphed into one of confidence, albeit heavily tinged with nervousness.

"Kimura-kun," I called out, voice carrying a grave tone one would use to deliver bad news. "It's as I feared..." Dragging out the silence, I watched as the children waited in anticipation for what I would say.

"It seems that your father has contracted a serious illness."

Kimura gasped, his earlier voiced reservations forgotten at the face of my reveal. "What do you mean?" he asked, voice full of worry at the thought of his father becoming sick. "How would you know?"

Hook.

"My Oji-chan has a bunch of books on illnesses,"—true, although they're only on basic maladies on children—"and everything you've said about your father matches up with the symptoms,"—also true; racial bigotry is laughably easy to identify—"I regret to tell you that you father has contracted a mild case of..."

"Of?" Kimura asked, impatient for the diagnosis. His fingers dangerously squeezed my glasses.

"Racism." I intoned mournfully as I shook my head

Despite not knowing what the word meant, he froze in fear.

The classroom tittered worriedly, confused but feeling pity for Kimura's apparently afflicted father.

"Papa, is...sick?"

In his shocked state, he easily complied with me holding his hands and pulling him down to sit on the ground with me. Honda soon joined us in sitting down, opting to plop next to me and taking a piece of my shirt in her hand to grip onto.

Already used to such actions from children in the Pediatric ward, I let her hang on, seeing that the mere contact was calming her down from her close breakdown. Covertly offering a hand without looking, I waited until Honda gave me hers before soothingly rubbing circles into her hand.

Poor girl. Despite being popular, she was still a pretty shy kid. Today's ordeal must have pulled her out of her comfort zone. I'll give her a treat later, luckily I remember packing some candy in my bag. Hopefully she likes strawberries.

"Yes, it's more of a mind sickness than actual injury, so it'll be simpler to spread and harder to treat. You seem to be showing symptoms as well " I murmured to myself in a worried manner. Catching the growing horror on his face, I squeezed his hands in a show of comfort. "Don't worry though," I reassured gently, knowing fully well that the class was listening in. "There's a way to make sure you never catch it."

Line

There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in his still-innocent and pure gaze that clouded his thoughts, rendering him unable to say anything. It was clear that he still had reservations about me since I was an unknown but suddenly realized how close my weirdly unwavering and earnest—as earnest as he's ever seen him, which is never—face was to his.

Immediately, a deep-red flush crawled up all the way to his face before he quickly looked away from me for some strange reason.

It occurred to me at that moment, that this was the first time we'd ever been so close, or that I always forget that my face was extremely gorgeous despite seeing it every morning in the mirror. (The disconnect is frighteningly alarming at any rate.) His flustered expression soon made sense as he assented to my offer with a nod.

Pretty privilege at its finest.

"...Okay," The boy mumbled out, now unable to meet my gaze for a completely different reason.

Sinker.

"Kasai-kun! Tell us too!" The others childishly chimed in, not wanting to be left out of the info session.

I merely nodded and gestured for my glasses from Kimura. "Of course, I don't mind teaching you guys as well."

Thanking a blushing Kimura with a nod, I gathered everyone in a small circle so I could begin lecturing, ignoring the drying paint on my face and hair. There was no doubt that I wouldn't have a chance to be left alone as the weird and quiet kid of the class; so, I might as well set up the image of a nice but still quiet kid. There wouldn't be any major changes aside from earning brownie points from the class to keep a neutral rating to prevent me from being hated.

By the end of the impromptu lecture, Kimura and Honda helped me wipe the paint off and set my damp frock on the heater to dry faster. When helping me wipe away the paint, he apologized to me and Honda for his hurtful actions from before.

I accepted it without a nod while Honda accepted it with a strained smile before making him promise not to do that to anyone again. Eager to keep a friendly relationship with us, Kimura quickly agreed without so much as a word of protest.

I couldn't help but pat their heads at the sickeningly sweet display in front of me. Kimura tried to protest at first but it was clear that that attempt was only half-hearted. Eventually he accepted it like Honda, even leaning into the touch.

It was only when the period had ended that Suzuki-sensei meandered her way back inside the classroom with a tell-tale limp to her walk.

At least she had the decency to change into a turtleneck.

(No one noticed my hand whipping out to grab the black tail of the malformed creature from Kimura's head and gently, but quickly, toss it to Aki's newly formed arms for them to trap the being.)

"Here."

"Eek!"

Shocked by my sudden greeting, Honda jumped in fright. Almost like a bunny if I'm to be honest. Her brown pigtails reminded me of the floppy-eared ones the most.

Aki snickered while the other dark blobs chimed in with their own amused sounds.

It was time for dismissal, and all of our classmates were eager to be let out of school, practically tailing out of class the moment the bell rang. It was one of the times when Honda was amongst the last to leave, encouraging her friends to go without her as she took her time to pack up.

Suzuki-sensei meandered her way back inside the classroom with a few minutes to spare before the bell rang with a tell-tale limp to her walk. As per usual whenever she left the class to hook up with Nakahara-sensei.

At least she had the decency to change into a turtleneck.

Throwing that memory far far away from my mind, I held my hand out closer to her face. In it were three strawberry candies, each wrapped in pretty white plastic with pink polka dots littered across the sheets; something that attracted children like Honda.

Seeing that she was still frozen, I thought to help her out. My free hand reached out for hers and took it so that her palm faced upwards. Dropping the candies in it, I then curled her fingers around it.

"It's my thanks," I explained. "For the help earlier. It was brave of you to stand up for me."

Honda flushed as she held the candy to her chest, treating them as if they were some kind of mythical object akin to the holy grail or a four-leaf clover.

"B-but I didn't really do all that much though," Honda mumbled, face looking down in shame as she remembered her failed attempt at defending me. "I couldn't say anything in the end."

She looked like a wilted lily all bent over like that. It didn't sit right with me.

With a need too ingrained for me to ignore, I lifted my hand and patted her head. The motion was as soothing to me as it was her, judging by the way she leaned into it after stilling in shock.

"Why—that's not true at all, silly girl. Don't you remember what you said earlier?" I gently prodded, tapping the bottom of her chin and unknowingly mirroring one of the grannies that often visited their children at the hospital I worked at.

Honda made a sound of confusion, her eyebrows adorably scrunched up in thought as she tried to remember what she said.

Choosing to throw her a bone, I coughed in my hand. "Ah, now how did it go?" I asked myself out loud, taking a thinking pose before hitting my fist in my palm. "Got it."

"Huh?"

"It wouldn't be fair to judge someone before getting to know them", is what you said back there. Those are quite some fighting words in my opinion." I confessed, watching as a flattered smile started to creep up on her face. "If it means anything, your actions back there were pretty courageous to me." Seeing my sister waving at me to hurry up by the gates, I hefted my backpack higher. "Goodbye, Honda-chan. See you tomorrow, take care not to eat too many sweets, or else you'll catch a cavity."

"You really are like a Baa-chan," Honda whispered under her breath, amazed at how eerie it was to hear the same exact words her grandma always told her to come out the boy in front of her.

"Hmm?" I stopped in my tracks to look back at her, head cocked in question. "What was that?"

"Nothing!"

Raising an eyebrow, I let out a hum that clearly voiced my doubt.

"If you say so."

"Ne, Chi-Chi,"

"Mm?"

"Have you ever been in love before?"

"..."

Oh no.

With a nervous chirp that sounded awfully like they were wishing me luck, Aki jumped off my head and scattered off to god knows where with his friends. Basically leaving me to fend for myself.

(Even he dashed off the moment the word love came out of my sister's mouth.)

I hoped they felt my disappointed stare following after them.

Feel my judgment, you cowards. Feel it.

We were just walking home. When did this turn into a consultation about love? She's only seventeen; way too young to start thinking about dating.

Now that I took a closer look at her, I felt like hitting myself.

The shifting eyes, prominent blush, distracted speech patterns, and the gnawing of the lip she does when she's thinking hard about something; all of it should have tipped me off.

"Chi-Chi?"

Nee-chan asked with a curious lilt in their tone, wondering why I stopped walking.

Right. We were talking.

Sigh.

"Do you have any homework, Nee-chan?"

She blinked dumbly at my question. "No?"

"Good."

Pushing my glasses up, I took a deep breath before taking her hand.

"Wha-hold up!"

The walk then turned into a quick stride as I led her to our house, ignoring her yelp of surprise at the sudden change of pace. I ignored her protests the whole time, my mind too busy combing over the talks I had with my patients regarding their love lives and picking the fastest shortcuts to our home.

The only time I stopped was when we reached the front door; Nee-chan heavily breathing while I stood there looking unbothered by the intense walk. Only then did I carefully take out my set of house keys, meticulously flipping through the metal and inserting the key through the keyhole.

I quickly twisted the doorknob and opened the door, speed-walking to my bedroom. Without looking back at a no doubt dumbfounded Yuu, I called over my shoulder: "Ojii-chan texted me that he won't be coming home tonight and that dinner is in the fridge. Take a shower and get into your comfy jam-jams. We'll be having dinner in my room." My glare stopped her from commenting on how cute the word "jam-jams" was, considering it came out of my mouth.

Before I walked up the stairs, I took a contemplative pause. "Bring those stress-reducing cucumber masks you bought yesterday with you. There will be snacks after as well, so don't eat too much. Understood?"

If I was going to do this with her, I was going to milk it for what it's worth.

Yuu could only nod in the face of my serious demeanor, too scared not to.

With a sigh, I walked up the stairs to prepare for our upcoming conversation. I'll need to restock on my snacks when this is done and over with. There's no doubt my stash will be depleted by the time we finish. At least it was a Friday where the other girls were busy with club activities, leaving the house quiet with just us.

I'll need to restock on my snacks when this is done and over with. There's no doubt my stash will be depleted by the time we finish. At least it was a Friday where the other girls were busy with club activities, leaving the house quiet with just us.

Small mercies.

I eyed my uncle's liqueur cabinet with a wistfulness only overworked middle-aged men could have on a night out after a long, hard, day at work.

Sixteen more years until I become legal. Just wait, Chardonnay, Reisling, Pinot Noir, Absolut.

I'll see you soon.