I mindlessly spun a pen around my thumb, my cheek resting on my free hand as I stared blankly at the chalkboard. In front of the board, the math teacher scribed formulas and equations; in one hand a piece of chalk, and the other a paperback textbook. Every so often she would look over her shoulder, her eyes darting around the classroom to check if students were properly paying attention.

Yup, I understand nothing. All those numbers and symbols seemed like meaningless scribble to me, as if I were forced into some sort of foreign-language class with no prior knowledge. Besides what was taught in elementary school, what was the point in learning math in this day and age? If you had a smartphone, then you had a calculator.

The teacher's hand slowed to a stop, the chalk ceasing at the edge of a number as she closed the textbook with a satisfying flap. She turned around, facing the classroom as she put the chalk away behind her.

"Put your notebooks away. I'll be handing back your tests."

I promptly put my blank notebook away, the rustling of paper reverberating throughout the classroom along with incoherent whispers. I wasn't worried about my score whatsoever—it was decided before the test even began.

With a stack of papers in her hands, the teacher began to call out names. I put my head down as I waited for mine, neither excited nor dreading my score. That was how confident I was.

A dozen or so names were announced before I was finally called. I promptly stood from my seat and went to the front.

"Hikigaya," the teacher repeated.

"I'm here," I replied, about three rows away from her, but she didn't seem to notice me.

With her brow furrowed, she looked at my desk and upon noticing that I wasn't there, scanned the classroom. "Hikigaya Hachiman, has anyone seen Hikigaya Hachiman?"

A few murmurs asking whether or not a Hikigaya Hachiman was even in the class with some head shaking was the class' lackluster response. I'm sorry Sensei! I know how embarrassing that must be!

I was right beside her now, and I meekly raised my hand. "Um, I'm right here."

An intelligible mutter left her as she put my test to the bottom of the stack and called another name, carrying on as if she saw nothing and heard nothing—as if I were air.

I took a step back and let out a short sigh. Looks like it happened again. Better make sure though.

I waved my hand in front of her face, mere centimeters away from her glasses. No reaction—her eyes simply pierced through my fingers, looking at the student approaching the front of the classroom who didn't seem to be able to see me either.

Yep, it happened again.

I went to the shelves at the back of the classroom where navy blue bookbags were nestled inside. Once I got my phone and earbuds, I returned to the front and after taking one last look at the classroom, I left.

If it was any class other than math (or science) then I probably would have stayed. Even if no one could see me, the classwork and information would remain. But I didn't care at all about math—I could just take the supplementary course when I inevitably failed it, like with the test Sensei was returning. Besides, I planned on going to a private liberal arts university in the future. What use would math have there?

In the hallway, I stretched my arms and twisted my back. I wasn't fretting about no one being able to see me. Sure, when it first happened I was pretty distressed, but it would eventually end without any intervention after some time—about forty-five minutes when I last timed it. The only thing it seemed to harm was my record, but it was already pretty bad even without Adolescence Syndrome.

Adolescence Syndrome was the term I applied to my vanishing after researching online, though I had heard about it before in middle school in the form of rumors. Body swapping, reading thoughts, feeling the emotions of others—all of those were associated with Adolescence Syndrome.

Back then, I never took the rumors seriously, and neither did the people who spread them. It was considered an urban legend, a fabrication of the mind from the changes that occur during adolescence. That was where the name came from, but I couldn't find any information on who created it. I suppose it didn't matter in the end.

With that thought, I began to walk aimlessly through the hall. I didn't really have a goal in mind. The last time this happened, I tried getting something to eat, but the cashier at the convenience store couldn't see me to process the transaction. If it was close to the end of the school day then I would have gone home, but there were still two classes left.

I guess I could explore the school. The only classrooms I had yet to step foot in were any of the third-year type classrooms or J classrooms; I never had a reason to, and the J students were intimidating, having some sort of "air" surrounding them that dissuaded anyone from approaching them. Most of them were girls too; if you tried talking to them but weren't up to their standards, they'd look at you with dead expressions and ice cold eyes.

But, with no one being able to see me, that "air" and glare didn't matter.

My mind made up, I began walking toward Class 2-J. My footsteps echoed with no one to hear them, and I soon found myself standing in front of its sliding door. A circular window revealed a small portion of the room, and a teacher's voice leaked into the hallway.

I slid open the door and entered the classroom. In the first row of desks, there was someone I recognized instantly despite having never spoken to them.

Yukinoshita Yukino.

With clear white skin; sharp, cobalt eyes; and long, raven hair; she was considered the most beautiful girl in school. Not only that, she was also considered the smartest. A natural hard worker blessed with unmatched talent, she always sat at the top of our grade in regular exams or placement exams… or that was what the rumors said. Soubu High was different from other schools as it didn't publicly post scores or rankings. Instead, teachers told students that information privately. That's why I'm still able to show my face around with my 9/100 in math, though that also means no one knows about my third place ranking in Japanese.

Her gaze met my own, and I instinctively looked— what?

My head snapped back to Yukinoshita. She was still looking at me. For a moment her eyes flickered to the teacher as if confirming something. Then, her gaze returned to me with vigilant eyes, like I was some sort of new, dangerous species that she discovered.

Could she see me? There was no way she could.

I took a step to the left. Her eyes followed me. I took a step to the right. Her eyes followed me.

What the hell?

I took a moment to scan the classroom a second time. Everyone was still writing, not noticing me whatsoever.

Everyone except Yukinoshita Yukino.

I waved my hand in front of the person closest to me, mirroring what I did to Sensei minutes ago. Their reaction was the same: they simply looked through my hand, not even blinking as they continued to write into their notebook.

I returned my attention to Yukinoshita. Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open as she registered the sight. It was like a million gears were turning in her head, trying to make sense of what was going on. Even I didn't know what was happening.

Suddenly, the gears stopped turning. Yukinoshita turned to the teacher with a raised hand.

Without thinking, I immediately left the room. Blurred windows flew by in the corner of my vision as I ran down the hall, not having an exact destination to head to, but anywhere there was better. You totally looked like a creep, Hachiman!

My run continued for a few seconds until I slowed to a stop, yet the echoing footsteps against the linoleum floor remained. I turned around and was met with the terrifying sight of Yukinoshita striding down the hall, her long hair trailing behind her as she neared with a glare. How the hell did she catch up with me so quickly?!

I forced my legs to start moving again. I turned a corner and saw the entrance to the boys bathroom which I quickly entered, halting my breaths so as to not alert Yukinoshita to my presence.

I waited silently as the footsteps got louder and louder, indicating Yukinoshita closing in on my position. At the footsteps' loudest point, I could hear ragged breaths. Then, everything was silent.

I counted to thirty in my head before peeking out of the bathroom. I quickly looked to the right. Nothing. I quickly looked to the left—

"Just what were you doing?"

"Yukinoshita!" I blurted out, a flight or fight response flowing through my body. I chose flight, evident by my stumbling backwards, though I managed not to fall.

Her eyes simply narrowed, no words leaving her.

"Yukinoshita…" I said in a more even tone, straightening my posture. "Just forget about what you saw back there."

"You want me to forget seeing you enter a classroom where nobody else can see you? Should I also mention that the majority of that class are girls?" she said with an accusing tone, like she had caught a criminal in the midst of the act.

"I wasn't going to do anything, I swear." I raised my hands defensively. "I just wanted to see how the international curriculum was compared to the general curriculum, that's all."

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you had nothing but the most innocent of intentions."

"Oi, you're only implying me of wanting to do perverted things because I'm a boy!" I accused, uncurling a finger to point at her. "Do you know what they call that? Discrimination! Show me the evidence of me doing anything wrong!"

"The fact that you're out here right now instead of being in class is wrong."

"You're not in class either. What you're saying is hypocrisy."

"You saw me ask the teacher for permission before you left, didn't you?" she retorted, irritation inwoven in her voice. "I doubt you have permission to be wandering around the halls."

"Whatever." I sighed. "Look, I'm not telling you to forget everything to avoid getting caught or something, but because not even I know what's going on. Even if you told someone, no one would take you seriously. Something like this is completely unbelievable."

"I don't need you to tell me." She uncrossed her arms. Her head turned to look down the hall. "Adolescence Syndrome is regarded as fiction, after all."

"Right?" I agreed, nodding my head. "So it's better for the both of us if you—" I cut myself off. "You know about Adolescence Syndrome?"

She returned her attention to me with raised brows. "I'm sure everyone has heard of it at some point in their lives, even if it wasn't intentional."

"Maybe," I agreed, "but I didn't expect you of all people to believe in it. It's like you said: everyone thinks of it as fiction."

The only people who claimed it to be real were those in forums for those who had experienced it. Adolescence Syndrome was just one of those unbelievable things where you had to see it to believe it.

"How else could I label your predicament as anything other than Adolescence Syndrome?" Yukinoshita said monotonously. "I'm far too healthy to be seeing things."

I shrugged, acknowledging her point. "Anyway, whether or not you believe in Adolescence Syndrome doesn't change anything. Just forget about today and it'll benefit both of us."

She shook her head. "No, if you're left unchecked, then appalling things could happen to the rest of the student population." She placed a finger on her chin with a wondering expression "Perhaps I can have you locked inside a cell until your condition disappears?"

"...You're joking, right?"

"For now." Her hand returned to her side. "But in any case, ignoring something like this would be foolish. Your condition could worsen significantly."

"It's fine," I assured with a wave. "It wears off on its own without me doing anything, and it doesn't impact my life at all. It only really happens during school."

The corners of her mouth dipped into a frown. "How is that not impacting your life at all? Your record must be terrible."

"It is."

Her fingertips pressed against her temple.

"I don't have enough time for this. You already know who I am—what's your name and class number?"

"What're you going to do with that information? I already told you, there's no point in trying to tell anyone about this."

"No, there's someone who can help you, someone who will believe you other than me."

I scoffed scornfully. "I don't need help with this."

"That's not for you to decide."

"I think it actually is."

"Not when you're acting so unreasonably."

"You're the one who's acting unreasonably, trying to insert yourself into a situation that in no way involves you, nor is asking you to involve yourself."

My words came out roughly, with my tone becoming more and more agitated as I went on. Despite my complete justification in doing so, I felt an ounce of guilt for speaking to her in that way.

I began to walk away. "Seriously, just forget about this."

A second of silence.

"...Talk to Hiratsuka-sensei."

My steps slowed.

Hiratsuka-sensei? My homeroom teacher and counselor? That leftover Christmas cake? She's that 'someone' who will believe me other than her?

Just hearing her name made my stomach and ribs throb painfully. No way I was going to talk to her.

oOoOoOo

Pale smoke escaped from the glowing tip of a cigarette held in Hiratsuka-sensei's mouth, her arms crossed with a dissatisfied expression as she leaned back in her chair. Her trademark lab coat ran down her thigh and spilled over the edge of her seat, nearly touching the floor. In front of her was a glass coffee table, on top of it a beige ashtray with small mounds of ash.

It was after classes. We were in a consultation room of sorts, seated in cushioned chairs you'd find in a waiting room. Windows surrounded us with a view of the sky, white clouds drifting leisurely across the expanse of baby blue. The smell of Hiratsuka's cigarette surrounded us like an invisible heavy fog—no doubt that it would stick to our clothes and follow us out of the room once we left. Luckily for me, the smell wasn't all that bad thanks to one of my previous jobs as a bartender.

Hiratsuka-sensei lifted the cigarette from her mouth. "Hikigaya, what time is this? The third time that you've been skipping class this week?"

"...Yeah…"

"That was a test. You failed." She tapped the tip above the ashtray, causing bits of orange ash to rain down. "It's actually the fourth time this week."

"Well, I'm not keeping track, so…"

"Exactly. You're not just causing trouble for yourself, but for me too. I have better things to do than to keep track of some wannabe delinquent's offenses."

"O-Oi, I'm not a wannabe delinquent. More like a—"

"That's besides the point."

She took a puff of her cigarette and let out a cloud of smoke. It climbed the air and disappeared into an air vent.

"You do know that I'll have to notify your parents again, right? I really hoped that they'd scold you properly the first time so I wouldn't need to do that. Do you know just how much of a pain talking to parents is? Not only for idiots like you, but for teachers too?"

"Well, I wasn't planning on getting caught this time." I tried to joke to lighten the mood, only for her to glare at me.

I sighed. "Alright, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"That's what you said the first time." She smothered the cigarette against the ashtray and discarded its twisted remains. "Sheesh, what's been going on with you lately? When you skipped before, you'd at least hide it under the guise of being sick or whatever, but now, it's like you don't even care."

"You knew about that?"

"Don't try to dodge the question."

"Well, it's…"

"Talk to Hiratsuka-sensei."

"...Nothing."

Her eyebrows raised, then dropped into a thoughtful expression.

"Hikigaya…" She said my name like she was balancing it on the tip of her tongue. "...you know you can tell me things. While I'm your teacher, I'm also your counselor. It's part of my job to listen to you complain about whatever's going on."

She smiled tenderly. "I was a teenager too once. I probably understand you more than you think."

I didn't respond, only conveying that I was listening with my eyes.

"Okay!" She exclaimed, suddenly breaking the silence. She stretched her arms toward the ceiling, making them shake faintly. "That's enough for today; you can go home now. Be safe, will you? And seriously, stop skipping."

"O-Oh, yeah sure."

I rose from my seat and went to the door. With one hand on the handle, I turned around to say goodbye.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow," she parroted.

I opened the door and took a step into the staff room, yet my feet wouldn't move further after that. It was like an invisible rope was tied around my waist, urging me back into the room. I knew what that rope was—I didn't need to see it to know it.

Curse Yukinoshita for planting that idea into my head.

I sighed.

"Hiratsuka-sensei."

"Hmm?"

"...Do you know about Adolescence Syndrome?"

AN:

Just a one-shot of something I wanted to write but never got the motivation to.