She is confused at the current state of affairs. Originally, the study date was supposed to be just her and Irie, just the two of them, so when he arrives, frowning, hands stuffed in his pockets, Matsumoto doesn't even need to ask him why.
She steps to the side of the pathway, mirroring Irie's facial expression when her hypothesis is proved true. Aihara is trailing after him, a textbook in her arms, smiling sheepishly.
"I thought I could join you guys," she says, her smile radiant. Her sundress is shorter than usual, swaying in the light breeze. Even her shoes are open toed sandals; far too casual.
Matsumoto gives Aihara's outfit another once-over. Her frown deepens. The color of Aihara's dress matches her hair. It even has flowers sewn onto the thin fabric. Her sandals slap against the pebbled ground as she approaches them, walking faster.
Matsumoto giggles at the thought of Aihara picking rocks out of her shoes, clears her throat when Aihara blinks at her.
"It's far too cold to be wearing something like that," she comments, looking over to Irie. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Irie nods, turns to Aihara. "Don't come crying to me when you catch a cold," he tells her.
"You've got a thicker shirt underneath your sweater," Aihara tries, smiling at him, pointing with her chin. "I could always wear your — "
"No way," Irie replies, walking ahead of both girls. "You weren't even supposed to come with me. Find somewhere else to study."
Matsumoto almost laughs again. "Irie's right. Even if you came to the library with us, you're way behind us. You'd just be wasting your time, focusing on things you haven't even learned yet."
Aihara is dismayed. "I'm sure you guys could help me," she says, grasping at straws. "I could benefit lots from you two!"
Irie laughs, stops walking. "As if we'd help you."
"We're reviewing, not learning for the first time," Matsumoto explains, for the second time. "You'll just be slowing us down."
Aihara glances at her textbook. "Irie-kun doesn't even study," she mumbles. Matsumoto doesn't miss the way he glares at her. "He could help the both of us."
"I never consented to that," Irie says, briskly. "I'm only reviewing with Matsumoto. She doesn't need any help studying, unlike you."
Matsumoto beams. "That's right."
Aihara pauses, confused. "So…then…are you guys on a date?" Her voice is barely audible, muted by the loudness of the blowing wind. "The second one?"
"Could be," Irie replies, glancing at Kotoko. Matsumoto can see the ghost of a smile, just barely there, on his face. "Thank you for keeping count for us."
Aihara's shoulders slump further, so much so that Matsumoto wonders if she'll drop her books on the ground, wonders if Kotoko will ruin the school's textbooks, so hurt by Irie's false words.
Even Matsumoto isn't that clueless, taking everything Irie says to heart.
Still. He had said in a way that hinted at the possibility of a date, maybe not now but in the future….
"Are the books too heavy for you?" She asks Aihara, despite herself. Matsumoto tilts her head, brings a finger to her chin. "You must be lacking in arm strength. I suppose it can't be helped," Matsumoto says, then she pauses, only for dramatic effect. "You only lift up tennis balls. That's not much of a workout."
Aihara stamps her foot against the ground, flushing harder when Irie laughs out loud.
"You can't bring up my efforts at tennis practice right now," Aihara says, approaching Matsumoto. Aihara's breaching her personal space, struggling to point a finger at her. Matsumoto backs away. "Especially when your younger sister is better than you."
Matsumoto flushes. "T — That's only because I trained her," she sputters, turning away from Aihara. "She got the best tips from me, of course."
"More like you couldn't keep up with her," Aihara simpers, her voice low.
They bicker bitterly back and forth, throwing nonsensical jabs at each other for another minute, maybe two, before Irie sighs, shakes his head.
"I'm leaving," he announces, not bothering to wait for either of them.
They don't notice that Irie's no longer watching them until Irie is halfway to the the library, his long shadow trailing behind him.
Matsumoto glares at Aihara, and then she starts walking quickly after Irie, carrying her bag with ease.
Aihara, on the other hand, struggles with multitasking; she almost trips along the dirt path, clinging onto the heavy English textbook. Her flat sandals don't help. Matsumoto can't help but to glance behind her back every so often, pausing to stifle a giggle at Kotoko.
"Stop…being….rude!" Aihara says, panting when she finally reaches the doors. Irie's there first, of course, with Matsumoto following shortly after, not a single strand of her hair out of place. She's not out of breath either.
Nothing like a short jog, she supposes. Even if it is spontaneous.
No one can say the same for Aihara. Her hair is slightly disheveled, blowing in the wind, sticking to her face. Matsumoto supposes she is unfamiliar with hairspray.
"You have so little stamina," Irie comments, a disapproving look on his face. "Especially from such a short distance like this one."
"Matsumoto never told us we were racing," Aihara says, glaring at her. "I would've won if I had known!"
Racing?
When they arrive in the library, both Matsumoto and Aihara trail behind Irie, glancing at each other while he's greeted endlessly by people of all genders, young and old, faculty members and non-faculty members. It is tiring.
Finally, when they near the tables behind the tall shelves, Irie pulls out a chair, pausing to take his sweater off. He lays it on the back of his chair.
Matsumoto would usually do the same, but the library is a little chilly, and besides, she's only wearing a camisole underneath.
She laughs at Aihara, who's probably freezing.
Aihara, who's already seated, pays Matsumoto's laughter no mind. She fiddles with the corner of her textbook instead.
She's probably ignoring me, Matsumoto thinks bitterly. She seats herself in the chair opposite Aihara, the chair next to Irie. Her bag she sets on her left, pulls out a notebook and a pen and the textbook.
She glances at Aihara, who's now seemingly engrossed in her textbook, reading along with her finger, dragging her finger along each word, slowly.
Hm.
"Try to keep it down," Matsumoto whispers, tapping her own finger on Kotoko's textbook, breaking her concentration. "You'll distract us."
"Maybe she should sit somewhere else," Irie says, turning to Matsumoto. "Good idea, don't you think?"
Aihara glances up at him, squints her eyes. "You won't be able to help me if I move."
"That's the point," Irie replies, huffing. "You need to learn this material yourself. I won't be able to help you all the time, so you'd better learn to be independent now."
Matsumoto feels like an outsider again.
"You could just help me this one time. It's no fun being independent."
Irie says nothing, ignores her. He turns to Matsumoto. "What do you think will be on the mock exam?"
"Well," Matsumoto starts, flipping to their most recent chapter. "I think the open-ended responses will be the most prominent ones, considering how little we spoke about them during lecture."
Irie's eyebrows raise. "The ones we focused on the least? Why would that be the case?"
"It's a common thing I see," Matsumoto admits. "Questions that you don't expect to see on the exam will usually be the ones that are actually there, on the exam. I've seen it on our last mock exam, the chemistry one."
Truthfully, she's not even sure Irie was there the day they took that exam. How is he exempt from that? The Many Privileges of Irie continue to astound her, though Matsumoto knows she should be used to it by now, having spent so much time around Irie.
Irie shuffles in his bag, leaning down as he does so. He pulls out a folder, flips through the looseleaf sheets in it, pulling out one. He slides the paper to Matsumoto, and she picks it up from the table as Irie puts his folder back in his bag.
"I've jotted down some things that I thought were noteworthy," Irie explains, nodding at the paper in Matsumoto's hands. "These will most likely be included in the mock."
Matsumoto pauses. "These are all things we went over. We'd be better off focusing on the textbook questions than relying on the lecture notes."
Irie frowns. "I don't think so. This is only a mock exam, not an exam on a national scale. The professor is the one administrating the exam, obviously we need to trust that he will give us the material needed to get a good score. Also, the information covered in the textbook is what the professors rely on in the first place, so it's not anything drastically different."
Kotoko laughs.
They both look up at her.
She waves her hand, her amusement abruptly switching to nervousness. "Don't mind me! Just go back to whatever you guys were talking about!"
Matsumoto sighs, already losing her train of thought. She eyes Kotoko's textbook.
"Is the children's book of yours entertaining?" Matsumoto leans forwards a bit, trying to get a better look. "Is this the tale of the Mouse and Cat? Or even better, the Princess's Adventures in Love?"
Irie leans forwards as well. "I don't think I'm familiar with either of those," he adds, that ghost of amusement on his face again. "Shall we do a read aloud?"
Matsumoto shakes her head. "For Kotoko's sake, one of us should do the reading."
"You guys are terrible!" Kotoko slams the textbook shut, turns her head to the side, glares at the wall. "I'm not reading fairytales, I'm trying to memorize spelling rules."
Matsumoto and Irie glance at each other.
Irie sits back down in his chair, folds his arms. "That doesn't sound particularly funny. Why were you laughing?"
Kotoko glances back at Irie, bites her lip. He squints at her. Matsumoto leans back in her chair, cautiously. Her elbow catches on the tip of Irie's looseleaf paper, and she pulls away, sets it aside.
"You sounded like you were the Class A representative again," Kotoko says, bringing a hand to her mouth, laughing behind it. "The kind that stuck-up to the teacher, all the time. It brings back a lot of memories…"
"Terrible ones," Irie interrupts, looking away from Aihara. "Besides. I can't help that my instructor was fond of me."
Matsumoto pauses. "Did you have a female teacher?"
Both Irie and Kotoko laugh at that, though Matsumoto feels like Kotoko's laugh was much more than mere amusement.
She is an outsider, once again. Matsumoto blinks. "Was I wrong?"
"I don't mean fond in that sense," Irie clarifies, a little too quickly. "And it wasn't one-sided. I appreciate all my instructors."
Matsumoto examines her fingers. They are quite dry.
Irie continues, glancing away from Matsumoto. "Having trust in your teachers, especially when he's well-informed and has your future in the back of his mind constantly is nothing to be ashamed of." Irie eyes Kotoko, pauses. "Not everyone can relate."
"Class F had an amazing teacher!" Kotoko crosses her arms, mirroring Irie. "He cared about us deeply, and took pride in what he did! He was a hundred times better than yours, because he not only uplifted us but he also believed in us and our success!"
Matsumoto stifles a giggle. "You really were in Class F?"
Irie turns to Matsumoto, smiling. "She was."
"I'm going to leave if you keep being rude," Kotoko says, and while the message is applicable to both Irie and Matsumoto, they all know it's directed at only Irie.
They both ignore her.
"I believe you were in Class B," Irie says to Matsumoto. "Correct me if I'm wrong."
She nods. "You're right. I was, for most of high school. I did have the option to switch to Class A during my last year, though."
Kotoko's mouth drops open. "Why didn't you? I would jump on an opportunity like that."
Irie scoffs, side-eyes Kotoko. "If it ever came, that is."
She glares at him. Irie smiles back, not even trying to hide it anymore.
Matsumoto ignores it, tries her hardest.
"I had a few close friends that I didn't want to leave behind," she admits, staring at her fingers again. "I valued spending my last year with them, instead of starting over in a new environment like this one."
Kotoko nods, understanding. "It's…hard leaving people behind," she says, her eyes flickering to Irie.
Matsumoto ignores that as well, ignores their shared look.
"Yes, it is," she says, not really agreeing but more trying to end the conversation. Matsumoto grabs Irie's sheet off of the wooden table, examines it closer. "Now, where were we?"
"You were arguing with Irie," Kotoko supplies, trying to be helpful.
Matsumoto glowers at her. "I'm not like you," she says, looking up from the paper, "and you're not even in this conversation. Go back to your grammar."
"Spelling," Kotoko corrects, waving a finger in the air. "Your first mistake."
Matsumoto finds Kotoko's tittering annoying.
"You need help in both," Irie says, and Matsumoto is thankful to be saved by him. She is also thankful that Irie's words always shut up Kotoko, thankful that they always mute her.
"I've actually got an idea," Kotoko says, breaking the rule. Matsumoto is shocked. She was certain that after that remark, Aihara would remain silent for the next hour.
She never gives up, does she?
"If I were you two," Kotoko continues, smiling. "I would do both! Like a compromise. Read the textbook, and also memorize the facts from the professor's lecture! Then you'd know everything, whether or not it'll be on the test."
"So that's your study strategy," Irie says in awe, looking at Kotoko.
She nods, her smile brightening. "I've been using it for a while now."
"No wonder," he mutters, under his breath.
"That only works for people with a lot of time on their hands," Matsumoto explains. "In college, you've got to learn how to pass exams. Then, you further your own knowledge on your own time, after you're done with all your assignments. 75% of your success will be from learning test-taking-tips." Matsumoto tilts her head. "Are you familiar with those?"
"She's obviously not," Irie cuts in, impatient. "Kotoko needs an entire reform, not an introduction to test-taking-tips."
Matsumoto frowns, tries to keep it at bay. "Yes, I'm sure that's what Aihara needs," she says, slowly. "But whatever. That's not what we're here for."
Irie nods, glances at Aihara. "You're right," he says, turning back to Matsumoto. "Let's go over some vocab. Since they're the very basics, we'll most likely see them."
Kotoko is quiet, watching as Matsumoto pulls out large flash cards from her bag, highlighted, colored and some are even underlined. The back side of the cards are filled with notes; the definition of the word, the word's roots, and sentence examples of the word, all in English.
Kotoko is stunned.
"Let's use these," Matsumoto says, pushing them towards Irie. "You wouldn't mind testing me?"
"Sure," Irie says, stacking the cards in his hands. They make a small, distinct clicking sound against the table. "Back side or front side?"
"You can alternate," Matsumoto replies. "It's better that way."
They practice, with Irie reading either the meaning of the word, or reading the word out loud and asking for the definition. Matsumoto excels, of course. The only thing she has trouble with is the proper pronunciation, something that Irie corrects and tells her not to worry about.
"It's not that important right now," he explains. "Of course, it'll be more noticeable in daily conversation, but since this is only a written exam, your main focus shouldn't be getting the pronunciation exactly right."
She nods, thankful. Irie's tips are very effective.
They're almost done with the cards; their practice is going along smoothly, speedily.
Matsumoto glances at Aihara. She's so silent, pouring herself into her studies, with so much focus that Matsumoto had forgotten about Aihara's presence entirely.
"Matsumoto," Irie calls out, and she turns back to him, abruptly. Irie is pointing to a card of hers. "This card, disingenuous. There's supposed to be another u before the o. You've got it as disingenous."
"Oh. Thank you for catching that," Matsumoto says, squinting at the card when he hands it to her. "I don't know how I missed it."
"It's alright," Irie says, watching her. "Do you need your glasses?"
She looks up at him, surprised. "That would be smart," she says, bending down to retrieve her reading glasses. Her cheeks heat slightly as she puts them on. "Thanks for reminding me."
"Everything is better when you can see," Irie says, idly flipping the cards in his hands. "That was the last one, by the way."
"Do you want me to test you now?" Matsumoto sticks her hand out. "I'll do it the same way we did it before."
Kotoko finally looks up, watching them.
Irie mulls it over, still flipping the cards in his hands. "We've been here for almost an hour," he finally says, frowning. "But I guess I'll do a few."
Both Matsumoto and Kotoko smile, giddy. Irie ignores them, cards still in his hands.
"You'll be speaking in English," Kotoko says, randomly, and even Matsumoto forgets where she is and who she's with.
"He's so good at it," she agrees, taking off her glasses and wiping them. She hasn't cleaned them properly in a while; she makes a mental note to do so when she gets home. "I'm so jealous."
"I've heard him read entire stories in English," Kotoko says, almost bragging. Matsumoto frowns at the new tilt in her voice. "Irie-kun is also studying German, and he's practically fluent! It's so cool!"
"What? You're proficient in German too? That's amazing," Matsumoto says, turning to face Irie. He's glaring at Kotoko, and he has to blink slowly before he turns back to Matsumoto, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"It's actually quite similar to English," Irie replies, "so it's not too difficult. It's more of a leisure activity, if anything."
Matsumoto and Kotoko exchange a look.
"Can you speak in German? For me?" Kotoko asks, smiling, much too cheerfully.
"For us," Matsumoto corrects, smiling harder than Kotoko. "I'm interested too."
Irie glares at Kotoko again, so much unspoken words going on behind his eyes that Matsumoto herself feels a shiver go down her spine, wonders how Kotoko is able to maintain her big, cheery, bright smile when faced with such a glare.
"Oh! Actually, what about this," Kotoko starts, blinking. "You could speak in German for us, or you could help me with my studying!" Even the way she lifts and waves her textbook up from the table has some sort of…cheery, cutesy spunk to it, Matsumoto notices, feeling bewildered.
Matsumoto's smile wavers at Irie's silence, and it almost falls off her face entirely as Kotoko keeps dancing with the textbook, giggling.
"You don't even know a word of English," Irie finally says, shutting his eyes. His voice is dangerously close to being too loud for library standards. "What would me speaking in German help you with?"
"Then you can help me perfect my English!" She still laughing even as she places her textbook down, pumping a fist in the air. "Win-win!" Kotoko says, in English.
Irie scoffs, places a hand on his chin. He's calmed down significantly faster than he usually does. "Matsumoto can teach you. I'm sure she's a competent teacher. She taught her younger sister, and look at her now. A top athlete."
Matsumoto ignores the jab — was it a jab? She can't tell.
"Hmm," Matsumoto says, considering. "I'm…open to that," she says hesitantly, glancing at Kotoko. "But I'll do it on one condition."
Irie waits.
"If you speak German for me, I'll gladly help Aihara."
"That's a great idea!" Kotoko is still smiling. "See, it doesn't always have to be you, Irie-kun. I'll take help from anyone."
"Of course you will," Irie says, his voice muffled by his hand, half covering his mouth now. "But I don't agree to this."
"Why's that? You're the one who included me," Matsumoto says, and Kotoko nods, becoming her backup.
"I don't get anything out of this! It's unfair," Irie says, crossing his arms. The table makes a thud sound from underneath him; Matsumoto wonders if he's trying to cross his legs as well. Perhaps he's really against this…deal.
"You could see me pass the exam," Kotoko says, quietly.
"I've seen that already," Irie replies, still frowning. "I wouldn't benefit from that."
"You could go on a proper date with me," Matsumoto tries, smiling. "Consider that your benefit."
Irie stares at her, says nothing. His face is blank.
"You're a selfless person," Kotoko interrupts, resting her elbows on the table. "You don't need something in return for helping us!"
Irie is quiet still.
"I know you're nice on the inside," Kotoko continues, and Irie suddenly sits up, cutting her off, sighing.
"Enough of this," he says, staring at the table. He doesn't even look up when he speaks up."Just write me a sentence."
Matsumoto and Aihara both turn to each other, twin faces of shock.
"He's really going to — "
"I didn't think he would actually — "
They long overstay their 'study date' at the library, one hour melting into two, and then another hour, and when the day is finally bleeding into evening, Matsumoto decides to call it a day.
She's been rereading the same excerpt over and over again, chunks of a medieval sort of piece written by a European woman; Frankenstein. It has proven to be a waste of time.
Kotoko doesn't seem to see any underlying themes. She'd spent the majority of the time responding to the 'open ended questions', answering with bizarre, outlandish theories that Matsumoto knows won't be accepted.
"You did say these types of questions will be on the exam," Kotoko says in defense, snatching back her paper when Matsumoto can do nothing but stare in horror.
"Well, I've tried my best," Matsumoto sighs to herself, ignoring Kotoko. "Irie is my witness."
They both glance at him.
He has been asleep for the past hour.
"He falls asleep like that a lot," Kotoko says, frowning slightly. "I don't think he gets a good rest, even though he's always sleeping."
"You must know a lot about Irie then," Matsumoto replies, watching Kotoko's reaction. Her face falls, slightly.
Matsumoto smiles at Aihara's reaction. "So you don't tuck him in every night? No forehead kisses?" She feigns a thinking face. "Now that I think about it, you do seem like the type to sing lullabies."
She pauses when Kotoko starts fiddling with the corner of her textbook again, still looking sad. "You really don't have a relationship with him," Matsumoto says, an observation.
Kotoko flips a page of the textbook, flipping away from the Mary Shelly's Synopsis of Frankenstein. Her eyes keep drifting back to Irie.
"It's okay like this," she says, finally glancing at Matsumoto. She frowns suddenly. "I bet you're happy to hear that."
"Of course I am," Matsumoto replies, standing up. "Makes things even."
"Maybe I'll tuck him in tonight," Kotoko says, in defiance. "We'll see if that makes things even."
"Do it right now," Matsumoto says, placing her bag down. She even moves over, pushes in her chair, making room for her. "I bet you can't even get near him without shaking."
Aihara's eyes widen. "You can't expect me to do anything while he's asleep — that's a breach of personal boundaries."
"Are you pursuing a law major?"
"No, I'm in the literature department — "
"You two aren't even cohabitants? What a disappointment."
"Disappointment? You're supposed to be happy that there's nothing between us! You're two-faced, Matsumoto!" Kotoko pauses, right after insulting Matsumoto. She looks down at her textbook, still siting down. "I didn't mean that," she starts, but Matsumoto laughs, walks away from Irie.
"Your entire demeanor changes when it comes to Irie," Matsumoto comments, still laughing. "You're the two faced one, really. You're fighting with yourself right now, aren't you?"
Kotoko says nothing. Matsumoto sighs. She continues, speaking considerably lower. "I suppose I am too, in that regard."
"I'm not fighting with myself," Kotoko replies, standing up. "My feelings for Irie are obvious. What I think about him on the inside I share on the outside, so I'm not fighting anything."
Kotoko gets up, walks over to Irie. He's laying on the table, using his arm as a pillow, his hair falling over his face.
Matsumoto wants to look away.
She'll do anything to not see the tender way Kotoko smiles at him, but she continues to watch.
She sees the way Kotoko pulls Irie's sweater off of his chair, and for a second Matsumoto thinks that Aihara will drape it around her own shoulders, thinks that Aihara will wear Irie's sweater like she's wanted to this whole time.
Aihara doesn't. She covers his shoulders with the sweater, draping him with it instead of wearing it.
Matsumoto watches, still standing as Kotoko moves away, playing with her fingers as she smiles down at him, as if she's forgotten where she is, as if she's forgotten that this is in fact a public place, and not her home, where she's free to do whatever she wants with Irie, whenever she wants.
Matsumoto looks away, frowns.
"I've got to go home," she says, turning her head away. "My sister is probably waiting for me," Matsumoto lies, knowing that Ayako has probably taken the subway again. "Goodbye."
She starts to walk away, before Kotoko calls out for her, a tad too loud for the library. "What about your flashcards?"
Matsumoto stops walking. "Just throw them away," she replies, suddenly angry. "I don't care."
She still walks back to the table, frowning when she sees Kotoko putting Irie's lecture notes back in his folder. She's still as Kotoko lines up the flashcards, places them next to Irie's folder.
"Oh," Kotoko says, picking up a pen. "We should probably tell Irie that we're leaving."
"Won't you be leaving with him?" Matsumoto is irked.
"Usually, yes, but I've got to go to my dad's restaurant tonight, so I won't be able to walk home with him." Kotoko's voice remains neutral, Matsumoto would've thought she'd been distraught by the fact.
"I see," Matsumoto says, sighing. "What kind of note do you want to leave?"
Kotoko pauses, the pen still in her hand. "We could just tear off a little bit of his notes and write — "
"What kind of idea is that? Why would we write on someone else's notes? Did you say tear?!"
Kotoko jumps at Matsumoto's shrill voice, takes many steps back from the table.
Matsumoto grabs the pen out of her hand, ignoring Kotoko's you're really a female version of Irie.
"I've got a better idea," Matsumoto says, stiffly. "We just write a goodbye message on one of the notecards."
"But they're yours," Kotoko says, confused.
A wave of exhaustion passes through Mastumoto's body. Her own shoulders sag underneath the weight of her bag. "I'm giving you permission to write on them," Matsumoto explains. "Here, I'll even let you keep them. They're yours now."
Kotoko is still.
"Use them to study. I spent a great deal of effort making them look nice and neat."
"Thank you," she replies, genuinely. "I really appreciate it."
Matsumoto sighs. "Anyways. Pick out a random card to write on — actually, never mind, give me the deck." She flips through the cards until she finds the one she's looking for, the disingenous one.
"This one is already wrong, so let's use that," Matsumoto says, glancing at Kotoko. "Knowing you, you'd probably memorize the wrong spelling."
Kotoko points to a blank spot near the bottom. "Let's write there," she says, smiling when Matsumoto nods. Kotoko pulls out another pen from her pocket, a pink one.
Matsumoto frowns, even as Kotoko explains. "The color will be different so it'll catch his eye, he won't miss it," she says, but Matsumoto rolls her eyes.
Kotoko's hand hovers over the paper. "What will we write?"
Matsumoto pauses.
They glance at each other.
"Should we write, 'please come help us again', or 'see you tomorrow, same place' or 'thank you for saving our lives'? Which sounds better?"
Matsumoto stares at Aihara. "I can see why Irie runs away from you," she comments, and Kotoko sputters.
"As if he runs to you!"
Matsumoto laughs, fiddles in her sweatshirt pocket, searching for her lip balm. "If you keep up what you're doing," she says, pausing to swipe the chapstick across her lips, "he just might."
Kotoko is silent.
"Okay," Matsumoto says, turning back to the notecard. "How about we just say thank you, and then sign our names."
"That's so depressing," Kotoko says, turning to look at Matsumoto, scrutinizing her.
"As if yours was any better!"
"Mine was more meaningful!"
"You're being so loud, shh!"
"Whatever!" Kotoko brings the pink pen to her lip, pauses. "I know! We should write something in German," she says, turning to Matsumoto. The pen presses into her lip. "That'll impress him. Do you remember anything?"
Matsumoto is quiet. She looks to her feet and then smooths back her hair, glancing away.
"You don't?"
"Stop being so loud!"
Eventually, they settle for a simple, thank you for your help today, with Kotoko's addition of a smiley face, much too cutesy and much too large.
Matsumoto holds the flashcards closer to her eyes. "Your drawing is almost bigger than the actual message!"
"It is, and you still can't see it," Aihara replies, smiling. "What's your point?"
"You're being a jerk right now," Matsumoto says. "Dare I say you picked that up from Irie?"
"No, actually, I learnt it from you," Kotoko snipes. "You really do make a great teacher."
Matsumoto sets the flashcard down, picks up the pink pen. She clicks and unclicks it, focuses on her breathing.
"You can keep it, if you'd like," Aihara says, trying not to smile. "I can give it to you."
"Stop copying me!"
Aihara giggles, unable to curb her laughter for more than three seconds. Matsumoto huffs, rolls her eyes.
She pockets the pen anyways, tries to ignore the way Kotoko smiles when she does. It clicks against her lip balm as Matsumoto walks away from the table, finally deciding to leave.
"I'm off now," she says, not glancing behind her shoulder. "Goodbye."
She is surprised when Aihara tells her to drive safe, surprised to see Aihara leave a minute after she does. Matsumoto had thought she'd stay after, wait for Irie to wake up, maybe wake him up herself.
Instead, they both leave him there, asleep at the library, the disingenous card plus scribbles laying next to him, a thick sweater draped over his shoulders.
Matsumoto is pleased to have learnt that Irie doesn't snore, not one bit.