Where no one waits
For some reason, my instinct told me that Asuka would answer me. While it wasn't too far from the truth, it wasn't really close either. Because, well, expectations of a response to a confession of my degree can vary greatly.
I could expect a confession of love, or just find nothing relatively important in Asuka's shoe locker.
Any answer is the right one when there is no concrete possibility. Likewise, uncertainty doesn't always point to where I would expect; that's the reason why i preferred to evade the issue and play dumb.
Talking to friends, eating anything and everything, and going for walks in the evenings. That kind of thing you do when you want to avoid a serious problem that can't help but be there. And the problem wasn't that there was nothing, but that Asuka wasn't doing anything.
There are differences between the two terms. Not having and not doing.
There can't be something, but you can do something.
Something cannot be done, but there can be something.
That's what I thought with Asuka. There is something, but nothing is done.
I thought another note might help her to express what she felt. It didn't matter if it was just a letter, word, or a simple drawing of her hanging me; my goal was that she wouldn't feel bad, and I would stop feeling guilty if she gave me an answer.
With a small piece of paper, I walked to Asuka's locker.
My message wasn't entirely amazing. It was something small, a tiny beginning.
I turned everywhere, as if every door was going to turn into a pair of eyes, and stretched so I could throw it inside.
But, to my surprise, there was already another piece in there.
No, I hadn't placed it. And no, that wasn't my handwriting either.
It was someone other than me, and he had meddled in matters that were none of his business, or so I thought incredulously.
The stupid thing is that I didn't even suspect that, because I didn't expect it.
No, it was really wrong not to have expected anything.
…