Author's notes:
I'm publishing this now, on an absolute whim, because it's still April 13th in Italy and that's the Z-Day's date in the HOTD's universe, so... Why not?
...I am 100% going to regret it, am I not? Oh, well. It's not like the title itself of Flies on vinegar is not a hymn to bad choices.
1
"You take people, you put them on a journey, you give them peril,
you find out who they really are."
– Josh Weadon
A TRIP TO DIE FOR
Silvia kept her head down and her eyes fixed on the paper in front of her. Her pencil was distractedly scribbling numbers – the only thing that was safe for her to put in written, readable form for now – in the corner of the test. The steps echoed right past her desk and towards the rear end of the class. The back-and-forth strolling had never annoyed her before, but now it was like a tinnitus in her ears, loud and ever present and distracting, and all she could think was: Jesus Christ, sit down!
She knew it was irrational. Professors strolled and peeked, and she had dealt with the obsessive pacing that accompanied school tests since Middle School – and that was almost eight years of desensitization and she should have been used to it by now, but the cat-eyed thing that was metaphorically purring all over the classroom was just stubbornly refusing to fall into the line of things her brain allowed her to ignore.
The steps started moving back towards the front of the class. They resonated somewhere on her right, not close to her, but he could have been pocking her with a pencil in the cheek for how horribly aware of his presence she was.
Silvia resisted the urge of taking a deep breath. What hour was it? She refused to look at the clock on the wall. The man had eyes behind his head and the slightest movement could catch his attention, and for how much she wanted him to just fucking stop she very much didn't want it to happen by her desk. Not that she really needed a clock anyway. The line between shadow and sun had almost reached the third tile on the left of the scratched tile behind the desk of the girl with highlighter-green hair, first row, second line from the door, and when the sun was there it meant that it was around 09:10. And when it was 09:10 it meant that...
...I really should start writing something, she mentally sighed. What in the ever-loving hell had possessed her the day she had signed as a first preference for the student exchange program Japan of all countries?
Slowly, she started putting her answers together. Reading and re-reading each and every line once, twice, thrice.
It was weird. A weird type of weird. She had studied that stuff in Italian, not even two months ago. And now here she was, writing it in goddamn Japanese. It was both weirdly familiar and absolutely alien.
But at least she had studied it. That was already a nice starting point. Silvia refused to think about how she would have tackled History Class without that bit of foreknowledge of the curriculum to keep her afloat.
Fun fact: Homer screwed up the use of a war chariot. That would have been a nice addition to the answer to question 3 – in Italian. Or, hell, even in English. Just not–
Silence. There was complete silence in the class, except for the sound of pen on paper around her.
Silvia frowned slightly. What the–
A quick glance at the shadow of the teacher's desk. Empty.
Where did he...? When did...?
Fuck.
Silvia closed her eyes for a moment, a weird presentment nesting in her stomach and an ancestral instinct suggesting to her: Pretend to be dead.
...He's behind me, isn't he?
«Degli Esposti-san?»
Jesus fucking Christ.
She turned slightly towards the smiling face that hovered above her right shoulder. «Yes, sensei?»
There was no answer, just a soft "Hum~" as he reached for a corner of her test, pulling it a bit towards himself. His smile widened. «Degli Esposti-san, this is very good!»
Silvia answered a tight smile, and she couldn't help but think that Koichi Shido's compliments really had in tone that condescending mockery someone would use to thank a cat for using the litterbox, for once, instead of shitting on the carpet.
«Only, if you don't mind...»
There we go...
And to say that after two weeks she thought herself ready for everything. Thought – past tense.
Shido's left hand reached for her test from above her other shoulder, the pen he was holding pointing towards one of her answers. Silvia hunched on her desk, trying to avoid as much as she could the man who was basically wrapping himself around her.
«...This,» he tapped a word on her test, «this is– Allow me?»
His right hand moved to take the pen she had been using – because he couldn't, thought Silvia inclining the ballpoint-pen in his direction, use the pen he was holding in his own other hand right now, or one of the abandoned three on her desk, could he?
...No. He couldn't. Because he was not going for the pen, she realized in horror, and almost jumped out of the desk when long, slender fingers wrapped themselves around her hand.
«This,» he repeated from above her head, guiding her hand to trace the hiragana characters as if she was a toddler, «is written "bat-ta-li-on".»
Silvia heard the snickering of the other students even through the blood rushing through her ears. She didn't want to think what color her face was now. «...Thank you, sensei,» she choked out.
Now, please, go somewhere else and let me jump out of the window in peace.
But that was Koichi Shido.
Shido slipped on the floor, crouching at the right of her desk. «And what for, Degli Esposti-san? You are here to learn, and I am here to teach.» He tilted his head to the side, a few black strands of hair dancing softly around his angular face. «It's a pleasure, I assure you.»
Silvia tried to smile back. Was he even aware of how close his face was to her elbow, like that?
Shido patted lightly the back of her chair. «Come on, Degli Esposti-san, go on. Don't worry, I'll be right here to help you with whatever you may need.»
...No. Apparently not.
The schoolbag slipped from her fingers and hit the floor right next to her right foot. The thump resonated through the silence of the library, and she could have very well banged it on her own head for how her ears perceived the sound.
At that hour, she was for the only soul lingering around. Some could arrive a bit later maybe, but for now everyone else was busy with lunch and a well-deserved pause from studies before the afternoon classes. There wasn't any particular reason why she couldn't do the same. Only, by the time the last bell of the morning had rung, her headache had been roaring, and then she had entered the cafeteria and she had seen Koichi Shido of all people. He wasn't even looking at her, he was seated and chatting, and this made her feel all the more stupid, but she had looked at him and she had thought, nastily, that that damn pinstripe suit he was wearing that day was just horrible. He was too tall and way too thin to wear vertical stripes; they fit weirdly and he looked even more ghastly and fragile, like that. The second thing she had thought was that, rather than sitting in the cafeteria the whole break, a run to the dorms for a Brufen and maybe her laptop and her phone would have been good. And so there she was.
Coward.
…At least the students who that day served at the cafeteria had understood very quickly what she had asked them. Which, Silvia thought putting the two-liters thermos of boiling water on the table, was honestly incredible, because she was pretty sure that whatever it was that she had grumbled to the poor guys it was very much not any type of comprehensible Japanese. Or English. Or even Italian for the matter. Maybe they were passing around words about the habits of the foreigner or maybe the "I had two hours of Koichi Shido and then Advanced Algebra" was some sort of universal language in itself that didn't require sensible and logical unions of syllables or words to be understood.
Silvia shook the thermos to mix the aroma inside and poked her laptop awake. A sleepy Rex of eight years before welcomed her from the monitor, fluffy and sprawled against the side of Old Fido as he had been in that lazy afternoon. Silvia clicked quickly on the file she was looking for before her throat tightened too much.
Typing her notes out was generally… slow and painful but distracting. And a good way to keep practicing hiragana. So maybe I can graduate from kindergarten, she thought bitterly, wrinkling her nose. More than two hours and she could still feel Shido's damn cologne in her nostrils.
That day there wasn't much to do. The History test had occupied both the hours they had with the discipline for the day, and Advanced Algebra's notes were mostly exercises. And right after the lunch break, she would have to be in English class.
English was good, mused Silvia, bending to fish the books from her bag. The teacher was a plump woman with violet hair and a passion for foreign languages, who always smiled and often brough–
Silvia's thoughts stopped in their trail as she realized that she hadn't fished only the book of English literature. One of her fingers had caught a crumpled piece of paper that dragged with itself more papers pinched together. The small sensation of fondness she had had in her chest died out, and a weird sensation of sadness and… and betrayal came afloat.
Silvia snorted and crossed her arms on the table, forehead pressing down on them.
½
The sound of her nervous back and forth echoed through the corridor. It was a sharp and squeaky noise of new shoes on polished marble, made all the louder by the absolute silence of the school. The only other sound was a fast and nervous muttering.
«Good morning, it's a… it's a pleasure to meet you… My na– my name is Silvia Degli Esposti… We will be together for the next– No. Looks like we will be… classmates…? …classmates for the next year…»
It was by far not the first time she repeated that, but it was going to be the last. The furious pitter-patter stopped right by a door already dozens of times passed by.
«…And I am very happy to be here,» she sighed, and reached behind her back to try and pull down as much as she could the short skirt of the brand-new uniform.
Here. There. In Japan. Now. How could it be "now" already? She had just received the green light for the program. She had barely had the time intensify the lessons of Japanese, to submit all the documents… to fix it with her school at home for the lessons she would be missing. Her eighteenth birthday had barely passed and… Ok, maybe the last year had indeed existed.
And now there she was.
Class 3-A – Fujimi Academy in Tokonosu City, Japan, first floor, up the stairs on the left from the main entrance and then left again at the vending machine…
«…Homeroom teacher: Koichi Shido.»
Silvia bit her lower lip and lifted the printed papers in her hand. It was a mixture of things, first on top the program of her first day. Later in tow, information about the school, disciplines, lists, and whatever she had found that could need in that jump in the dark. She had read and re-read everything so many times that the sweat of her hands had marked the edges, and by now she knew it word by word without the need of the schemes, really. But it was still good to chase away irrational anxieties.
The last few pages were nothing but printed e-mails. More precisely, the short exchanges she had had with her… homeroom teacher. Silvia had no idea what that meant, precisely. She had come to think it was a sort of class-coordinator role and she hoped that reality was not that far from the truth. Just another thing everyone took for granted that she knew, and that she had been too embarrassed to ask.
Koichi Shido had been named her referent, yes, but Silvia had no idea what type of relationship there was between the Direction of the Fujimi Academy and the teachers for what it concerned things like this, and the last thing she wanted was to bother with her problems someone who already may have been forced to deal with her against his will. Transfer students were always hard on the receiving teachers, she didn't doubt it. It was a beautiful experience at other people's expenses. So, she had politely thanked the Secretary and the Direction of Fujimi – but left the man alone.
However–
The first e-mail had come as a complete surprise a couple of weeks later. It had been a shock to see that he had taken the time of his day to write to her and to introduce himself personally… to be honest she couldn't imagine a single one of her own teachers at home doing the same. He had not only extended a hand, he had also been thoughtful enough to meet her midway by writing in English. Not even the Academy itself had gone that far.
…He had even checked on her again the day before her leave for Japan.
Despite herself, a corner of Silvia's mouth twitched up at Shido's "don't worry" and "good luck" in the last e-mail. He had typed out a smiley face next to his signature. He was either very kind and friendly or absurdly devoted to his job. Whichever it was, Silvia couldn't help but feel relieved, now, knowing that he was going to be her teacher. A somewhat familiar name. Talking to him had been reassuring, even if maybe she shouldn't have told him about her decision to arrive a bit early. She had been so eaten up by her own nerves that she had blabbed, but now she hoped that he was not going to feel forced to get there early for her.
Silvia's half smile fell, and she shot the 3-A tab a desperate look, ominously conscious of the fact that Japanese schools had an unhealthy obsession with introductions. That was the main reason she had arrived at such an ungodly hour: catching her new classmates of the year one by one as they arrived and familiarizing a bit had seemed a safer plan than getting there last minute and facing a whole class all together.
"You never get a second chance to make a first impression." Silvia hated the saying, almost as much as she hated first impressions. But not nearly as much as she hated sucking at them.
In Italy I wouldn't have these problem. De Santis would probably start the lesson without even remembering that there is a student more.
With one last desperate – Help me – look at the smiley face, she shoved the printed papers back in her bag. It was early. Just 07:20 in the morning and the first lesson wasn't meant to start before 08:30, but it was better this way. Feeling quickly with her hands, she ensured that her hair was decent, pins and low ponytail in their place.
Silvia sighed, and opened quietly the door to peek for the first time in what was meant to be the still empty classroom she was going to pass a year in.
But the whole class stared back at her.
½
It was the buzzing and thumping to bring her back to reality.
Silvia sighed. Do I understand you, she thought, getting up from her chair. Don't I want to jump off a window too. C'mon.
The blowfly kept headbutting the glass, ignoring the new-created passage right next to it. Bzzz – thump. Thump, thump. Thump. How came that these things always managed to find the smallest crevice to get in, but never to aim a window larger than her on their way out?
A few seconds, a swirl of cloth, and the blowfly was sent spiraling outside the window, its thick body tracing chaotic waves against the light sky as it recaught its balance from the hit and climbed back up in the air without touching the ground.
A sigh came from somewhere behind her, close to the entrance of the library. «Thank you, Degli-san.» Even without looking, Silvia knew that the librarian had her elbows on the desk, bony fingers rubbing her temples. Hidden from sight as she was behind the shelves that granted peace and privacy to the tables, it was easy sometimes to forget that she was there. «All that buzzing and bumping into things was seriously giving me a headache.»
«That's two of us, Furuya-sensei.»
«Be a dear,» came again the raspy voice when she started pushing the window close, «leave it open. God knows this place needs some spring air.»
They all needed spring air. I may be the first.
The weather was still chill. The soft breeze that came from the outside gave goosebumps to the mostly bare skin of her tights, but Silvia leaned against the window anyway, the dull pain in her brain somewhat less annoying. The murmur of the foliage was a soft whisper to her ears, and it was difficult to keep up the bad mood, like that. Winter was leaving and cherry blossom petals were falling, covering the grounds of the Fujimi Academy like soft, pink snow. Even now, Silvia could see a few dancing gently in the wind.
Damn, schools are never this beautiful in Italy. Sometimes she forgot how beautiful that place was, in her sulking.
The back of Fujimi was trimmed and quiet, grass of a bright green, for students of the library to enjoy the view and open windows without getting slapped by the noise of the front of the school and the sport camps.
Rex would love this, she thought with a pang of nostalgia, following with her eyes the soft pink rain of the trees. But Rex was at home, Rex was fine. Silvia drummed her fingertips on the marble of the windowsill just to feel the sensation. Rex and her life were there and she was here, and it was pointless to drown in nostalgia of what couldn't be changed.
«Tennis Club is great, I've been told.»
Silvia slipped away from the wooden frame as she turned towards the room. There was still no one around. The tables were clean and shiny and there was no whispered chatting coming from some hidden corner of the library.
There was silence and the soft typing of Furuya's keyboard. She was not looking at her. She didn't look like she had spoken at all, face half-hidden by the curtain of long greying hair and eyes fixated on the monitor.
«Uhm… Yes…?»
Silence befell in the room, and it looked like the conversation was over, but when Silvia moved to sit back at her table Furuya's head snapped up towards her. Her eyes looked too big behind those huge glasses. On her skeletal frame and her sunken face, they did nothing to ease the impression of being stared at by some particularly attentive owl. «And…?»
«And… I don't know. "And" what, Furuya-sensei?»
The librarian eyerolled dramatically, but her way too sharp eyes didn't return to Silvia, stopping instead on the monitor. A second later, typing sound was filling the air again. «Are you joining?»
Silvia blinked. «No, why?»
The typing stopped again. «Because you need air, Degli-san,» said the woman, bending towards her and speaking slowly, as if Silvia needed more input to understand the words – not that she didn't, but for some reason Silvia suspected that it went beyond… linguistic barriers. «Air and time with your peers, or are you going to spend your whole year hiding here, with me and my books?»
Her tone was sharp. Silvia's teeth sunk into her lower lip, and she silently hoped that Furuya wouldn't notice that.
«I don't understand if you were just born old or if that– if your homeroom teacher scared you out of this school, but–»
Silvia's cheeks flared up. «He didn't!»
An eyebrow darted up. «…Chivalrous of you,» deadpanned the librarian in English, before reverting to Japanese. «But we are here to talk about things that, thank God, are still grounded in reality. I am not,» a finger rose to interrupt her protest, «saying that he's a bad teacher, I am saying that I have, in case you forgot, seen him dealing with students outside teaching and I wouldn't have let him introduce this Academy to a plant, let alone an Italian, because this is how you end up with a student who keeps hiding in the library with old farts and geeks.»
Silence fell between them.
Silvia shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and then she instinctively straightened her posture a bit under the librarian's piercing gaze. Seconds stretched into minutes, and Silvia found herself toying with the half-wet cloth still in her hand. She wished the librarian would say something, but her too-big looking grey eyes were unmovable and unblinking. Finally, Silvia's own eyes fell on the floor.
A sigh. But, mercifully, the door opened and a group of students entered, and from the computer of the librarian came again a sound of typing.
Silvia collapsed back in her chair, chin in her hand.
"I don't understand if you were just born old or if that– if your homeroom teacher already scared you out of this school, but–"
½
«Cazz–!»
Silvia froze in place, the knot in her throat suddenly tightening so much that she barely managed to make an audible sound. More like a squeak.
«Ah… Silvia Degli Esposti, am I right?» Silvia's eyes darted on the man that was getting up from the desk of the teacher. «I am glad you found your way to this little family of ours... without too many troubles, I hope?» He smiled an angelic smile, eyes closed and hands clasped in front of him.
Silvia was only able to stare, face burning and heart beating furiously in her throat. Because he – Koichi Shido? – was taller and younger than she had imagined and he had glasses, but most importantly he wasn't supposed to be there and, damnit, the class wasn't supposed to be there and she knew she was meant to say something, anything, but her brain was lagging, and she dared a glance towards the students but no, no, the teacher was better, but what and why and–
«…Do you understand Japanese, dear?»
Silvia jumped, and she had the impression of hearing a chuckle at her left. The man ignored it, looking instead at her with a somewhat worried frown on his face.
«Ye– Yes, sorry. I was…» she stammered trying to find the words under his gaze. What had he asked, again? The only thing she could to think in that moment was how yellow his eyes were, like those of a cat or a snake, and that she really wished he would blink and break that impassible staring. «Sorry! Nice to meet you, professor,» was all she could muster, and instinctively she extended a hand before remembering what she had spent months trying to learn. Good start.
This time a stronger chuckle came from the class. The teacher's eyebrows darted up as he stared openly at her hand, but after a second he shook it. «Oh. It's my pleasure, Degli Esposti-san. But before anything…» a finger rose, joint with a somewhat amused crack in his voice. «This won't do. Let's have a proper introduction, shall we? I am Koichi Shido,» he had started speaking slowly, bringing a hand to his chest almost to emphasize his words, his mouth bent in a small smile, «but for this year you may call me Shido-sensei.»
If possible, at the not so subtle linguistic-jab her face burned even more. «Of course, Shido-sensei… Sorry, I–»
«And I am very happy to meet you,» concluded Shido without listening to her stammering, and he bowed down slowly, eyes never leaving her as he guided her with his example in what he expected her to do.
Silvia followed him mechanically, muttering a fast proper introduction and still scratching her brain to try and make a sense out of what was going on. At least that half a second she could look at the floor was–
A sharp clap, and she almost jumped out of her skin. Her head snapped up, and she found Shido now smiling wide with his hands joined under his chin. «See? That was not difficult, was it?» he said in a light tone, and on the closing question he turned towards the class. «Let's encourage our new friend a bit, shall we?»
And, much to Silvia's horror, he started clapping. And the whole class started clapping with him. Silvia managed to do nothing but stay there, staring at an undefined point of Koichi Shido's black suit, face burning. Couldn't the floor just open and swallow her now?
As the clapping died out Shido turned back towards her. The corners of him mouth twitched down slightly as he saw her expression. «Are you well, Degli Esposti-san?»
No. No, I'm not.
«Yes, I… It's just that I thought we were supposed to be here at… 08:30?» was all she managed to say instead.
More chuckling came from the class, but Shido relaxed visibly. «That is when lessons start, yes,» he said, smiling. Suddenly, making her flinch, his arms spread wide. «But as this is a special day in more way than one, I thought that we could all gather here together a bit earlier this morning. To… break the ice a bit, no?»
There wasn't any particular inflection in the way he said that, but Silvia's stomach sunk anyway. Oh. Oh, God… "Anxious for the first day, more than anything. Breaking the ice has never been my forte, unfortunately." It was only one of the things she had written in their e-mail exchange. Silvia bit her lower lip. Shit.
At her lack of reaction, Shido hummed and brought a hand to his face, head tilted to the side and index tapping slightly against his cheek as if he didn't know exactly what to do with her. Then his smile returned. «Well, we're a bit shy, aren't we? Don't worry, I'll start this conversation. Uhm… Let's see… Oh, would you mind me asking a couple of questions about Italy, Degli Esposti-san? It's traditions have always fascinated me.»
Silvia blinked, surprised by the weird and sudden swing in the conversation. That was… surprisingly easy. Gentle, even? Was he… leaving the ball in her court, somehow? «Yes, of course, sensei.»
«Excellent! And tell me…»
And then she lost him. Silvia was barely able to understand half of the words he said. She had the impression that he had asked something about the history of names, but… «Forgive me, sensei… I don't think I…»
This time it was Koichi Shido who blinked in surprise. «My apologies,» he had said, bringing a hand to his chest. «I must have been carried away…» he rose a finger and: «Will you allow me a second, Degli Esposti-san?»
Silvia looked at him as he turned towards the classroom and started speaking in a fast, animated Japanese. And as Shido brought his hand at his chest in an apologetic stance and the class started openly snickering, Silvia's jaw fell.
Did he just… made a public apology that I suck so much at Japanese that he will have to speak in English to me?
«I was asking, Degli Esposti-san,» went on Shido in English as if he was turning back to a completely friendly conversation, «if you could tell me something about Italian Onomastics, and the historical and socio-cultural evolution of Italian surnames. The impression that is left from old times is fascinating and lasts up to the modern day, if I am not wrong?»
«Oh… Well…» Silvia tried to force her thoughts back in line. The question, despite the way it had been posed, was relatively simple. It was an interesting topic, full of anecdotes, which surprised Silvia. Perhaps Koichi Shido was really–
«In English will suffice, Degli Esposti-san.»
This time, the class broke down laughing for real.
Silvia shot a glance at the watch on the wall: 07:35.
…What have I done to myself?
½
From her bag, something other than a blowfly buzzed. With a look around to ensure the newly entered group wasn't too close to her, Silvia took out the phone.
The message in Italian that appeared on the screen seemed to be mocking her:
12:29: "How are you? Is everything alright in Japan?" - Giulia B.
Silvia snorted. How am I? How am I in Japan?
½
…So much for a first day.
Silvia expelled air from her nose in a loud snort, feeling a bit tired and ill-tempered. And stupid. For someone who had walked into the exchange program expecting a realistic disaster, sure she had failed to prepare her feelings for the day. And to say that, thinking logically, nothing had even happened. There had been an awkward presentation and the realization that – unsurprise! – an N3 MIA was a poor life vest to wear to stay afloat in a private high school in Japan.
And to say that she had known that. Long before leaving, actually.
...It didn't make the back of her eyes sting any less.
A gush of wind hit her from behind, a cold slap of early-April that agitated her hair and lifted the back of her too short skirt, too much and uncomfortably, making her shiver in places in which it was not dignified to shiver. Silvia didn't bother letting go of the strap of the bag on her shoulder, nor of the trolley she dragged behind herself to put it back in its place. The tissue was going to fall back with movement, and she had a pair of very short shorts in that trolley of hers – and tomorrow her school uniform was going to have irregularities.
Despite it not being that late, all that remained of sunlight was a dime shade of purpling orange at the horizon. The shadows had already been long when the school-camp had started to get empty, and now they were almost entirely mixed with the colors or the approaching night, purple on blue. It would have been a great time frame to walk and loosen up limbs and mood, but the curfew was approaching and the excuse of picking up baggage could buy her only so much time. This was not Italy.
For long minutes, only the sound of her steps and of the trolley's little wheels kept her company. That and the murmur of wind in the foliage.
Her stomach curled only a bit.
Despite everything, Silvia Degli Esposti considered herself a practical and adaptable person, someone able to get quickly used to a long list of things.
...Entering a room and getting slapped in the face by the sight of a group of people wide-eyeing her like she was some sort of weird toucan who had faceplanted their floor, though, was most definitely not part of that list.
Oh, God. Not again, was all she could think, hand still on the door knob of the Dormitory and heart seemingly relocated in her throat for the occasion.
Somehow, she managed to bend her burning face into a smile. Or what she hoped could pass as a smile. «Good... Good evening,» she tried, her voice bending up in a tone that could almost mark that greeting as a question.
Silence followed. Then: «Deruisan!»
Silvia blinked, trying to stop the frown that was appearing on her face. Poker faces had never been her strength; poker faces after a day like that were nothing at all, on her face. Nonexistent. Exhaustion was a mask that spoke for her, and in that moment what it wanted was to scream: Don't you start with words I don't know!
«Deruisan!» came again from the room. And a second later a petite girl with short reddish-brown hair came half-running, a hand waving in her direction. «Glad you made it here. We're together, isn't that great?»
Silvia stared at her, a frown now fully visible on her face.
«Shido-sensei said that he asked you to be put with someone you know, did he tell you?»
Koichi Shido's name lighted a candle in her brain, and something finally started to click as she realized that it probably was "Degli-san" what the girl was actually saying.
Silvia lightened a bit at that realization. «Thank you, it's nice to be here.»
…But, exactly, who are you?
«Your bed is the one over there,» pointed the girl, but Silvia barely had the time to register where she was indicating, let alone notice which bed was the one without stuff on top, before a pair of hands closed on her elbow and she found herself dragged in that direction. «We wanted to ask you to come to the field with us today, but you left so fast after class that we couldn't find you…»
Ok. So she was a classmate of 3-A. That was... well, logical. And abysmally embarrassing. Because it meant that she probably expected Silvia to at least know her name – Koichi Shido's hellish Russian Roulette of introductions had demanded for names, clubs, dreams and other, albeit facultative, details and Silvia could truthfully admit that she retained none of it. Of anyone. All she could clearly remember of that morning was the sheer embarrassment and the teacher's smiling cat-like eyes and the impelling thought of: Please, please, can the bell just ring, now?
«Sorry,» Silvia shot her an apologetic look – a lying look, pulling the heavy trolley on the mattress. «I had to go to...» she couldn't remember the exact word. Instead, she fished the folded papers out of the pocket of her bag and tapped them with her finger.
The girl tilted her head to the side. Then: «Oh, you mean the Secretary. Or the Direction? I don't envy you.»
None. The right answer was library, away from them and inside the hiding maze of shelves. But that wasn't exactly a good first-day answer, even for a first day where very little seemed to be going well. «Yes.»
The girl didn't push it. She dropped on her own bed, dangling her legs a bit. «And did you get the Club list?»
Silvia nodded. She had gotten the list long before boarding on the plane, actually. Printed from the comfort of her home with her sacred peace and blessed vocabulary at hand.
«Great! And do you already–»
«Kawamoto,» sighed a voice behind them. Silvia turned to see a girl with a dark blue, almost-black bob cut and glasses, dressed in nothing but an oversized t-shirt, shaking slowly her head at them. «It's her first day and she started with Shido. Have mercy, offer her a Bufferin and shut up.»
Kawamoto puffed out a cheek. «What is that supposed to mean?»
The other girl ignored her. Instead, she gave a polite bow towards Silvia. «I'm Sakura Ueno.»
«Silvia Degli Esposti,» she answered with a smile.
Sakura stared at her, lips moving slightly as she mouthed Silvia's name.
"You can't call yourself Silvia Degli Esposti and study in Japan, had laughed a classmate back at home. I want the day-by-day update of all the ways your name gets butchered in."
Silvia forced out a smile. «Yes, I know. Call me however you want, Ueno-san.»
«I call her Deruisan,» chided in Kawamoto.
...Right. Count to one.
By the time yawns had filled the room and girls had started crawling under the covers, Silvia's only certainty was that not only now she was supposed to face a class of people who expected her to know their names, but a dorm too. Out of twenty people in the room, Silvia remembered maybe four – Kawamoto with her first name still MIA included.
At least, there had been no snickering or condescending smiles this time. Her foreigner-status held on well enough as an out of jail card from too long conversations, here, she had discovered. People seemed a bit more comprehensive of her struggles. And switching halfway through the sentence from Japanese to English to fill in the gaps in her lexicon worked well enough. Her gestures worked a bit less well, but they had helped a couple of time, and beggars couldn't exactly be choosers.
It was not a victory. But it was not a defeat that made her fantasize about jumping out of a window either, and that was already enough.
Kawamoto turned herself in the bed with a rustle of clothes. «Have you met Shido-sensei this afternoon, by the way?»
The whisper came out so of the blue and after so much silence that her first thought was: Thank God no. A second and a click in her brain later a punch of anxiety hit her in the guts, and she jumped up to sit in the half-darkness. «No...? Did I have to?»
Was she supposed to meet Shido after school? Had she somehow managed dump the teacher to wait for her like an idiot in some class? Shit. Shit. Shit.
«Uh? No, no,» the girl sounded calm and casual, completely unaware of the heart attack she had almost caused. «It's just that... You know...» she hesitated. «He was a bit down, today at the field.»
Well. That was unexpected. «Really?» she whispered, not knowing what else to say.
Kawamoto hummed. «Yeah... It was so weird seeing him like that, generally he always smiles...»
Silvia nodded in silence. It was obvious that Kawamoto wanted to add more, but she didn't know how to push for it. In the end, she asked: «What is the field?»
«Oh, it's the sport camp,» Kawamoto said, then her voice brightened up. «That's what I wanted to tell you earlier. Shido-sensei is the supervisor of the Track and Field Team, you know? We meet up with him outside school hours for practice.»
...Well, if that wasn't a big, fat, red-line on the Track and Field option of her Club list.
Not that she would tell Kawamoto that. Instead, she plopped back down and turned on her belly, and focused on the first point of the discussion. «I see... But why was I supposed to see him?»
«Well... he was very down this afternoon. He said that he wanted to do something nice and to help you in the class, but he tried too hard and it went badly. He asked me if I knew where you were, because he wanted apologize.»
Ah.
That was... Well...
«He said that ensuring a future to the new generations is his life and he feels like a failure knowing that one of his students may not trust him after this morning.»
Ok, shut up now.
The pettiest side still insisted on thinking: Well, he can cry me a river; but the other part of herself, the one that was gaining advantage with every word... Silvia bit her lower lip.
«No, I... didn't see him,» she finally sighed. «But there is no need to apologize, really.»
This time it was Kawamoto who jumped up. «But don't tell him that,» she protested. «He will think that you don't want to talk to him. Just let him apologize and say that everything is fine!»
Except I don't want to talk to him, Silvia protested to herself. She knew it was childish, especially if the man just wanted to apologize. But to be honest she wasn't sure that she wanted do deal with his cat-eyed smile on a one on one again, and so soon. Well... Maybe he won't be smiling this time...
«...I will do that.»
«That's great! Just tell him that you're good and give him a hug!»
«Su–» Her mind halted with what could only be considered a metaphorical screech. «A... hug...?»
«Yes, Shido-sensei loves hugs. He doesn't hug students often for all that "teachers shouldn't touch students unnecessarily" stuff, you know? But he's always happy and hugs back if someone hugs him first! I'm sure it would mean a lot to him if you did.»
...Jesus Christ.
Japan, Silvia thought, was really an incredible country. And Japanese people were all the more incredible. It was the politeness and the general cleanness, but also the sense of duty and of trust in that duty that she was observing here and that she found lacking in her own country.
For short, the fact that Japanese high schools could as a norm trust students to serve food and not spit in it was astonishing.
«I think I'll get some eggs,» commented Kawamoto – Momo Kawamoto, Silvia had discovered that morning thanks to a greeting outside the dorms – balancing herself on her toes to peek at the buffet.
Silvia nodded, biting back a yawn. God, where was her coffee? Despite being a night owl by nature Silvia had never really struggled with drowsiness in the morning, but the recent travel seemed to have done a number on her brain. Her mother had been right about jet lag.
Too sleepy to talk, Silvia settled herself on listening and looking around, dragging her still empty tray along the lines of the cafeteria.
Japanese food was weird. Everything that was pre-packaged seemed crafted to be as colorful and cute-shaped as possible, and it had the weirdest flavors. Silvia didn't even have an idea of what actually was the flavor of most of those things. It was while trying to read the label on a few highlighter-pink bottles in a fridge that, she caught the reflection of a taller, black figure.
From what she had learned in her brief staying, which translated in Kawamoto's chatting of the previous night, most of the teachers chose to not reside around the clock at Fujimi's. Silvia had no idea whether Koichi Shido was part of this group or not but considering how early he was there – and how ungodly early he had been there the day before – probability was that he did live at Fujimi's. Or – Silvia glanced above the shoulder and a presentment crept inside of her – he was there for the same reason he had been there the day before. Fuck.
Silvia fixed her eyes on her tray. Maybe it was arrogant to think that a professor would go so far for her. But Shido had gone further just the day before, she remembered – as far as a whole class arriving over an hour early just for her. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Well… Kawamoto said that he wanted to apologize… She shot another look at the man. Yes, she cursed internally, he was definitely looking for someone among the students. Ok, but he said that he's sorry for what he did yesterday. He's not going to double down and make it a public thing, right?
The line of students moved. Silvia kept her eyes obstinately fixed on the way too shining glass in front of her, trying to discern Shido's dark figure in the mess of students. Tough luck. She dared another glance when she felt a group of people passing behind her and: Oh, shit. He's coming this way.
Shido regretted his behavior of the previous day. Silvia had promised to let him apologize.
…But this was the man who thought that there was nothing wrong in making a public announcement about how much she sucked at Japanese.
«I need to take a thing from my room,» she said to Kawamoto, suddenly. Sorry, but I'm not dealing with this now.
Kawamoto looked at her in confusion. «A "thing"?»
«Yes a… that…» she made a vague gesture. «Cuffie, you know? I'll be right back.»
And she dumped her and her confused expression in the middle of the cafeteria, slipping in a side exit as fast as she could without catching everyone's attention.
So much for not being a total weirdo.
Silvia stopped halfway the corridor to look back at Kawamoto and she saw Shido right in the frame of the door. He was saying something with his head slightly inclined forward and his hands clasped in front of him. Kawamoto brought a hand to her mouth, then Shido quieted and – no – Kawamoto's hand raised to point towards–
No! Silvia's hand found a handle and she bodyslammed her way inside the room. A second later she found herself with her eyes closed and her back pressed against the door as if to barricade it. Jesus. What does an Italian need to do to have a moment of peace in this fucking school?
She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw were bathroom stalls and urinals.
That's it. That's the world telling me: you should have stayed home.
An embarrassed chuckle escaped her. Her eyes roamed around the bathroom searching for not even she knew what. An excuse. A way out. Something to deflect attention from her. But there were only white walls, services and the two guys staring at her and the orange-haired girl typing on her phone.
The…?
Silvia's chuckle almost became a laugh of relief. «Thank God. For a moment I thought I was in the male bathroom.»
The girl didn't even lift her eyes. «This is the male bathroom.»
Ah. «And… why are you here, then?»
Silvia almost slapped herself in the face the split second the question left her lips. The other girl looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a mixture of condescension and mockery. Then, without giving Silvia a second more, she fixed her hairband and left the bathroom, one of the guys chasing after her.
Silvia almost followed her. Almost. Because Shido was somewhere out there and the last thing she needed was Shido's finesse asking her what hell she was doing in the male bathroom.
«Uhm… Excuse me?» she stammered, looking at the chubby guy with glasses who was left in the bathroom with her. «Can I ask you a favor?»
«…Degli-san!»
«Ah, Degli Esposti-san. And… Hirano-san, I see?»
Koichi Shido's hands were clasped in front of him and he was smiling. Kawamoto tailed half a step behind, waving in her direction, but when they got closer her cheek puffed out: «You could have invited me, I was waiting for you!»
Silvia froze in the position of putting the tray down on the table.
Luckily, Shido's soft chuckle spared her to think of a proper excuse. «I am sure no offense was meant, Kawamoto-san,» he commented lightly. «Although, I must admit, Degli Esposti-san… Hirano-san? I did think the two of you could find good company in each other.»
Silva shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Shido… She didn't really know what to think of him. He seemed unpredictable. After the day before… But in class he had been mercifully normal that morning. Kawamoto had chatted her about how Shido-sensei had come to apologize but she had just missed him, and what a pity it was, and how he had asked her if she knew if she was avoiding him and how sorry Kawamoto was for him. And that had made her dread the first hour and the first moment she would have found herself face to face with him. But Koichi Shido had done none of what she was fearing. He had sat down and guided the first hour.
Mind rolling back to what Kawamoto had said, a thought suddenly hit her: had he seen her running away that morning? Her guts curled unpleasantly. «Thank you, sensei,» she just said with a small smile, not knowing what else to answer.
Kohta Hirano didn't utter a word.
Shido's smile widened. «Why, Degli Esposti-san? There's no need… But, allow me to ask you one question: have you picked a School Club, yet?»
…What?
Well. He was her referent and homeroom teacher.
Feeling stupid wasn't a new sensation, but the mixture with guilt was lethal. Who had to apologize to who had changed, now, she guessed. At least according to her conscience.
"He said that he wanted to do something nice and to help you in the class, but he tried too hard and it went badly."
…I can't be the only one allowed to suck at first impressions. The man is just trying to do his job. Fuck me, why am I like this?
«Uhm… To be honest, not yet, sensei,» she said, and was glad to hear that her tone had come out more open.
Shido's hands clapped. «Excellent! Because, I don't know if you are aware, Degli Esposti-san, but I happen to be the supervisor of the Track and Field Club of our school, and we are looking for members, as of now. Kawamoto-san, here, is also a member.»
Silvia hesitated. But there was suddenly something weirdly puppy-eyed in him. Something that she'd rather not see. Damn it.
«I am not trying to force your hand, Degli Esposti-san,» smiled Shido, inclining slightly towards her. «I am simply… offering mine, if you will? And a run generally does well in the morning, don't you agree with me, Hirano-kun?»
Kohta shifted position in his chair with a vague screaking of plastic. He raised a nervous smile at Shido. «Ye– Yes, sensei.»
«Excellent, th–»
«And a run to the library does well in the afternoon, can we all agree, Shido-sensei?» croaked a voice from somewhere.
Silvia blinked.
Shido's head snapped up, eyebrows darting upwards, and when he moved half a step to turn around Silvia saw the woman standing behind him. She was old, with long hair let loose, and she was incredibly small. Her bag looked heavier than her whole body. Even Shido's slim frame had been enough to hide her entirely.
«Furuya-sensei… Good afternoon.»
«Good afternoon,» deadpanned the woman. «So?»
Shido's head tilted to the side. «My apologies?»
«Yes, those too. But to the library first. Now, Shido-sensei.»
«Furuya-sensei, whatever you need me for can wait. As you can see I am momentarily busy with my stu–»
«And I am busy too, but with a teacher, would you guess it. How comes that I have to chase you around the school like this? You are late. I want my De Oratore back.»
«Furuya-sensei,» there was a distinct annoyance in Shido's voice, now. «You must be wrong, I didn't take any book from your library, I assur–»
The elderly woman's hand snapped so fast that Silvia didn't even realize that she had moved. There was a blur and a "sciaff" and Silvia gasped. Kawamoto stammered and stepped back.
Koichi Shido remained immobile for a second, then he ripped a piece of paper from his forehead.
Furuya's pen pointed at his face like a sword. «My book, Shido-sensei. You were meant to give it back two weeks ago.»
Even though she couldn't see his face from that position, Silvia noticed that he looked down at the small rectangle for quite some time, as if to decide what to do, before raising his head towards Furuya. For a moment, it seemed like Shido was about to stir something. But then she saw him turning slightly to left and to right, and following his gaze Silvia discovered that the weird drama was starting to attract spectators among the students. Unsurprisingly, now that she thought about it.
Finally, Shido conceded: «…I will have a look at it, Furuya-sensei.» And it really sounded like a parent promising to look for monsters in the closed. When he turned his attention on Silvia, the smile on his face looked forced. «My apologies, Degli Esposti-san,» he just said, and left.
Silence followed. Silvia's eyes switched from Shido's back to Furuya, lips still parted in surprise. That had been weird. Uncomfortable.
The librarian was rubbing her eyes behind the heavy glasses, hissing something to herself. Silvia didn't look away fast enough when she removed the hand, and eyes that seemed gigantic and made of steel locked with hers. «You come with me,» she commanded, her tone scratchy like that of an old cat. «And tell that other charity case to pass by the library too if you see him again, I don't have the time to chase him around.»
Silvia blinked. What? Ah–!
Kohta Hirano was gone.
Silvia frowned, disappointed but not too surprised: he had almost dropped his chopsticks when she had asked him if she could sit at his table. Between that and his blabbing in the bathrooms of the morning, he seemed every bit the fish out of water she was and trying to stay invisible and crawl away from conflict was a tactic she knew all too well. But still, fish understood fish, and he had peeked through the door for her, and she had hoped to get to know him a bit.
For a moment she thought about finding him, but Furuya's sharp gesture let no space to refusal. As they left the cafeteria, she noticed that Kawamoto had left too.
They were deep inside the school before Furuya spoke again. «…I thought I could show you how the library works and make you a card. Everyone with a functioning brain has one. But mind you,» the librarian's finger snapped up, and the glare she shot Silvia from those too big looking eyes of hers was piercing to say the least, «I don't bite only teachers, students too. So…»
The slap in her chest almost cut her air out. Silvia barely managed to catch the papers Furuya had… "passed" her before the librarian retracted her hand.
«Read the rules. And compile those – there.» Furuya's pen pointed down a flight of stairs. «Find yourself a table, and, in the name of every human being that ever knew what an alphabet is, if you are unsure on how to write something use a pencil instead of making me waste paper. I guess you already know how the place looks like, more or less.»
Silvia blinked. «I–»
A skeletal hand shooed towards the library. «Do you think I didn't see you yesterday? Haunting my library like some soul escaped from hell? Go, go. I'll be right back.» Furuya's hand fished a book from her huge bag. «I just have something to do. Go.»
"De Oratore".
Silvia blinked. It was better not to ask.
But she cracked a small smile anyway.
½
"Bzzz–" sounded the phone still in her hand. On the screen:
12:51: "How are you? Is everything alright in Japan?" - Giulia D.
«Yes, yes… I've seen it…»
Even her own damn phone was letting her know that she spending too much time lost in her own head. If that wasn't a record… Well, what to answer? Truth was out of question. A lie… she didn't like lying. Remained humor, and: "I'm dead. Tell my mother to send flowers and Rex. Rex with a collar of flowers would be the best" she typed, and went to click "Send".
But then it caught her eye.
…What?
END OF THE CHAPTER
...In the next chapter, Dead hour:
«And I am Naomi Hashimoto.»
Now it was Naom– Hashimoto the others were staring at.
Suganuma frowned. «Wait… You didn't know her?»
«You are going to skip Biology for her and you don't even know her?»
«What… What happened, if I can ask?»
Ichijou spun towards her, a death glare in her eyes, fists clenched. «No, you can't! Shut up!» she snapped.
...Something is wrong. And a relatively safe space amid chaos risks turning into a deadly trap.
