DAI NISSHOO: "MADA MADA… HAYASUGIRU."
I did it.
I passed the exam to get into Hokuei High. I have three more years to let Arima know how I felt before he disappears from my life forever.
Yet…
I don't know when I will tell him. I've been thinking about it a lot, but I haven't gathered up enough courage to do so.
I'm a coward. That's right… I'm a coward.
It's not too late, and yet here I was, in the classroom, burying my head in my desk, panicking as if it was.
Unfortunately, it gets worse.
With my rotten luck, I wasn't put into Arima's section. Instead, I was assigned in section 1-A, where that infamous lady-killer, Asaba Hideaki, was gallivanting about with his "flock".
I didn't know him that well. I heard that he liked to charm girls, and that was it. He suddenly approached me, with a gait that exudes the persona that makes girls go crazy over him.
What can that be like?
Can it be the motions of a chivalrous knight? Or perhaps the subtle, yet enticing steps akin to that of Don Juan de Marco? Or maybe it's the flamboyant grace of a modern-day Casanova?
One thing's for sure: He lacks the humble qualities that made Genji and his illegitimate son Kaoru irresistible to the courtesans of Heian...
Frankly, I don't get how he can be so charming. Maybe it's just me. The others seem to enjoy just looking at him. Staring at him. Calling out his name.
I don't know if he knew all about me, so I just held my ground and kept silent.
I was relieved. He didn't know my name. He's too busy fooling around with his harem to keep track.
"Turn that frown upside down, my little Mary… sulking doesn't suit you. You're wasting that lovely face by using it to frown…"
He doesn't know your name, so he calls you Mary. Humph.
I ignored him. Funny isn't it? I couldn't react to that. I just couldn't. I didn't know how.
I just sat there, my sullen expression unchanging. There was only one thing on my mind at the time: Arima. Only Arima.
It seems as though I had but a mere one-track mind; Boys are said to have that too. Does that make me half of what I am?
I was too busy thinking about Arima to answer my own query.
I know… I know that a lot of girls have approached him before, poured out their heart to him, only to be met with bitter rejection.
"P-p-please a-accept this… Arima-kun…"
"I'm sorry… I can't take that…"
"Why? Do you already have someone you really care for?"
"I'm sorry…"
Even then, he was still a gentleman. He had a way of letting people down easy, to somehow say "no" without hurting their feelings too much. I admire such control.
Control and guts: The two things I severely lack. I envy those who have even the slightest bit of it in their system.
Not that I'm saying that he a master at rejecting people, but during his stay at Junior High, he was always alone. He made it his crusade to remain in solitude, yet everyone who admired him surrounded him.
But in truth and in fact, Arima was alone.
I was alone too. For far too long, I'm afraid. I wanted someone to share my feelings with.
But not with this weirdo who was standing in front of me, staring with artificial passion. Passion that was akin to a puppet being manipulated by its master to act out all of the things it really could not do by itself.
I bet he knew what it feels like to be both the master and the puppet in one sitting.
The other girls called out to Asaba in unison, with a playful rhyme that was supposed to be funny:
"Asaba-ku~n!! Don't go near that bi~tch!! She's a wi~tch!! Her mother is to~o!!"
Everyone in the class laughed. Even Asaba. But his laughter looked like it was faked, which is no surprise, since he seems to fake everything to always be charming to his "Little Marys".
Is it just me, or does HE actually care? Hard to believe, but then again…
After laughing, he glanced at me with a concerned look in his eyes, and then threw himself to the throng of excited girls vying for his attention.
I didn't give much thought to the way he looked at me. I was still thinking of Arima.
I was thinking that though he was alone most of the time, one girl got close enough to him, but he only thought of her as his imoto, his little sister.
Shibahime Tsubasa. I heard she got in this school too.
If I hadn't shouted at Arima like that, maybe I would've been the little sister.
Back in Junior High, she was so cute that she was treated like a little princess… spoiled silly. She got away with everything, and she only answered to Arima.
She still is. Her friends treat her like a wild animal though. That ought to keep her in check.
I knew that we had the same situation; only her father is not an idiot. Not like my mom, who consistently repeats her visible mistakes, and seems to fake all of her emotions.
If anything, she acts like Asaba-kun: pretentious and deceptive. Is she really my mom?
*Sigh* … my head hurts whenever I think that. With the way she treats me, you'd think I was adopted or something.
I'm tired of thinking about these things… maybe I'll go outside to get some air.
I doubt there will be any real classes since it's just the session to "assign seats" and "organize the housekeeper duties". Other than that, there was nothing else to look forward to.
I opened the sliding door and walked out. Even before I left, I was wondering what kind of "surprise" those stinkers would put in my bag before I got back.
Back in Junior High, it was a frog. Big whoop. I'm not scared of frogs.
"What brand of torture would the evil students of Hokuei employ to make my life any more worse than it already is?"
I was walking round the corridor with glazed eyes. I looked like a zombie. I felt like a zombie.
Heck, maybe I AM a zombie.
A living zombie bereft of sleep (due to studying) and love (none whatsoever at home, or anywhere else for that matter). I was the living dead girl, Kirishima Midori.
"THUD!!"
I wasn't looking where I was going. Before I knew it, I face to face with him.
Arima. I bumped into him. I got close to him again. But it's too early.
"Oh, I'm sorry… Are you alright?"
He spoke to me again. I couldn't take it. I still didn't have the nerve to face him.
He might recognize me as the girl back in Junior High… The one who took out all of her repressed anger at him, even if he wasn't doing anything to hurt me.
He might hate me. I don't want to remember him that way in case my courage never comes. I don't want him to remember me that way forever.
I don't want it to end like that. NO!!! It mustn't end like that.
I ran away. Tears started to fall. It was tantamount to the tears I shed when he tried to comfort me back then.
Let's face it. I'm a crybaby. I'm not what they would call a modern girl. I'm not strong like the athletic types. I'm not as in control or as rational as the intellectuals. I'm not as aggressive or as idealistic as the leader types.
I am weak. I have no control. I am irrational. I am mild. I am realistic.
I am who I become.
My behavior is my definition of "normal". It bears no tangible semblance to socially established norms. I was a soto, an outsider. It's been that way for a long time.
I was just I. Midori. I was the little girl who never had the chance to grow up. Maturity is as elusive to me as it is looking for a gold nugget in a copper mine.
I was secretly glad that he did not try to follow. He just stood there, without the slightest clue of why this girl was crying.
Guys are clueless. Go figure. They think nothing of what they see. They don't get as involved as anyone would expect. They are insensitive. They keep their emotions shut in their coin lockers. It was a cruel fact of nature, and nothing could convince me otherwise.
Perhaps even someone like Arima was not impervious to that fact as well?
He did not see who I was. Maybe he thought nothing of it. He must've shrugged it off like any boy would.
All I know is, it was not yet time… I'm not ready yet.
"It's too early… IT'S MUCH TOO EARLY!!!"
END OF CHAPTER 2
I did it.
I passed the exam to get into Hokuei High. I have three more years to let Arima know how I felt before he disappears from my life forever.
Yet…
I don't know when I will tell him. I've been thinking about it a lot, but I haven't gathered up enough courage to do so.
I'm a coward. That's right… I'm a coward.
It's not too late, and yet here I was, in the classroom, burying my head in my desk, panicking as if it was.
Unfortunately, it gets worse.
With my rotten luck, I wasn't put into Arima's section. Instead, I was assigned in section 1-A, where that infamous lady-killer, Asaba Hideaki, was gallivanting about with his "flock".
I didn't know him that well. I heard that he liked to charm girls, and that was it. He suddenly approached me, with a gait that exudes the persona that makes girls go crazy over him.
What can that be like?
Can it be the motions of a chivalrous knight? Or perhaps the subtle, yet enticing steps akin to that of Don Juan de Marco? Or maybe it's the flamboyant grace of a modern-day Casanova?
One thing's for sure: He lacks the humble qualities that made Genji and his illegitimate son Kaoru irresistible to the courtesans of Heian...
Frankly, I don't get how he can be so charming. Maybe it's just me. The others seem to enjoy just looking at him. Staring at him. Calling out his name.
I don't know if he knew all about me, so I just held my ground and kept silent.
I was relieved. He didn't know my name. He's too busy fooling around with his harem to keep track.
"Turn that frown upside down, my little Mary… sulking doesn't suit you. You're wasting that lovely face by using it to frown…"
He doesn't know your name, so he calls you Mary. Humph.
I ignored him. Funny isn't it? I couldn't react to that. I just couldn't. I didn't know how.
I just sat there, my sullen expression unchanging. There was only one thing on my mind at the time: Arima. Only Arima.
It seems as though I had but a mere one-track mind; Boys are said to have that too. Does that make me half of what I am?
I was too busy thinking about Arima to answer my own query.
I know… I know that a lot of girls have approached him before, poured out their heart to him, only to be met with bitter rejection.
"P-p-please a-accept this… Arima-kun…"
"I'm sorry… I can't take that…"
"Why? Do you already have someone you really care for?"
"I'm sorry…"
Even then, he was still a gentleman. He had a way of letting people down easy, to somehow say "no" without hurting their feelings too much. I admire such control.
Control and guts: The two things I severely lack. I envy those who have even the slightest bit of it in their system.
Not that I'm saying that he a master at rejecting people, but during his stay at Junior High, he was always alone. He made it his crusade to remain in solitude, yet everyone who admired him surrounded him.
But in truth and in fact, Arima was alone.
I was alone too. For far too long, I'm afraid. I wanted someone to share my feelings with.
But not with this weirdo who was standing in front of me, staring with artificial passion. Passion that was akin to a puppet being manipulated by its master to act out all of the things it really could not do by itself.
I bet he knew what it feels like to be both the master and the puppet in one sitting.
The other girls called out to Asaba in unison, with a playful rhyme that was supposed to be funny:
"Asaba-ku~n!! Don't go near that bi~tch!! She's a wi~tch!! Her mother is to~o!!"
Everyone in the class laughed. Even Asaba. But his laughter looked like it was faked, which is no surprise, since he seems to fake everything to always be charming to his "Little Marys".
Is it just me, or does HE actually care? Hard to believe, but then again…
After laughing, he glanced at me with a concerned look in his eyes, and then threw himself to the throng of excited girls vying for his attention.
I didn't give much thought to the way he looked at me. I was still thinking of Arima.
I was thinking that though he was alone most of the time, one girl got close enough to him, but he only thought of her as his imoto, his little sister.
Shibahime Tsubasa. I heard she got in this school too.
If I hadn't shouted at Arima like that, maybe I would've been the little sister.
Back in Junior High, she was so cute that she was treated like a little princess… spoiled silly. She got away with everything, and she only answered to Arima.
She still is. Her friends treat her like a wild animal though. That ought to keep her in check.
I knew that we had the same situation; only her father is not an idiot. Not like my mom, who consistently repeats her visible mistakes, and seems to fake all of her emotions.
If anything, she acts like Asaba-kun: pretentious and deceptive. Is she really my mom?
*Sigh* … my head hurts whenever I think that. With the way she treats me, you'd think I was adopted or something.
I'm tired of thinking about these things… maybe I'll go outside to get some air.
I doubt there will be any real classes since it's just the session to "assign seats" and "organize the housekeeper duties". Other than that, there was nothing else to look forward to.
I opened the sliding door and walked out. Even before I left, I was wondering what kind of "surprise" those stinkers would put in my bag before I got back.
Back in Junior High, it was a frog. Big whoop. I'm not scared of frogs.
"What brand of torture would the evil students of Hokuei employ to make my life any more worse than it already is?"
I was walking round the corridor with glazed eyes. I looked like a zombie. I felt like a zombie.
Heck, maybe I AM a zombie.
A living zombie bereft of sleep (due to studying) and love (none whatsoever at home, or anywhere else for that matter). I was the living dead girl, Kirishima Midori.
"THUD!!"
I wasn't looking where I was going. Before I knew it, I face to face with him.
Arima. I bumped into him. I got close to him again. But it's too early.
"Oh, I'm sorry… Are you alright?"
He spoke to me again. I couldn't take it. I still didn't have the nerve to face him.
He might recognize me as the girl back in Junior High… The one who took out all of her repressed anger at him, even if he wasn't doing anything to hurt me.
He might hate me. I don't want to remember him that way in case my courage never comes. I don't want him to remember me that way forever.
I don't want it to end like that. NO!!! It mustn't end like that.
I ran away. Tears started to fall. It was tantamount to the tears I shed when he tried to comfort me back then.
Let's face it. I'm a crybaby. I'm not what they would call a modern girl. I'm not strong like the athletic types. I'm not as in control or as rational as the intellectuals. I'm not as aggressive or as idealistic as the leader types.
I am weak. I have no control. I am irrational. I am mild. I am realistic.
I am who I become.
My behavior is my definition of "normal". It bears no tangible semblance to socially established norms. I was a soto, an outsider. It's been that way for a long time.
I was just I. Midori. I was the little girl who never had the chance to grow up. Maturity is as elusive to me as it is looking for a gold nugget in a copper mine.
I was secretly glad that he did not try to follow. He just stood there, without the slightest clue of why this girl was crying.
Guys are clueless. Go figure. They think nothing of what they see. They don't get as involved as anyone would expect. They are insensitive. They keep their emotions shut in their coin lockers. It was a cruel fact of nature, and nothing could convince me otherwise.
Perhaps even someone like Arima was not impervious to that fact as well?
He did not see who I was. Maybe he thought nothing of it. He must've shrugged it off like any boy would.
All I know is, it was not yet time… I'm not ready yet.
"It's too early… IT'S MUCH TOO EARLY!!!"
END OF CHAPTER 2