"…confidence can change one's perception of attraction. It is important to work on your body language and tone of voice. Depending on how you portray yourself, the same message can have very different meanings…"
There is silence.
"I am unable to comprehend this."
Not a single one of the twenty books scattered across the library table tells her that pivotal information.
It is thirty minutes past twelve in the afternoon and the surrounding atmosphere turns increasingly warm. Though the temperature remains steady, it is Honoka's internal that is experiencing a brigade of varying degrees.
When she glances at the window, she sees him.
Shisui.
And Nanami.
Perhaps her mind filters unwanted images, but she does not process the latter until quite some time later. Despite their proximity to each other, Honoka cannot help but faze Nanami's presence from her vision.
Shisui is yet to be discharged from hospital, however, his remarkable recovery enables him to wander the hospital grounds from time to time.
The library overlooks the hospital yard, an area frequented by many patients on their supervised time outside.
Ever since her dramatic encounter with Shisui, Honoka's visits prove difficult. Security has tightened and staff have been on high alert to her presence. She can no longer enter via the back sliding doors, nor the grounds during non-visit hours.
The changes do not faze her. She is used to such treatment, yet a small part of her mourns for the loss of those unimpeded visits. Though she is glad for Shisui's recovery, there is a disturbing fragment that wishes for his unconsciousness.
Perhaps she is grieving for the deprivation of quiet, alone time with him? Those nights, even if for only thirty minutes, were palliative to the painful ailment that is her loneliness.
"Honoka, is that you?"
The tone's warmth is familiar. From the depths of her reverie, she searches for its owner, until Izumi appears by her side and reality emerges.
"Izumi, how do you do?" Honoka says.
Her voice is a never ending sound of monotony, albeit her features reflect a less than the usual bland appearance.
At her expression, Izumi responds in bewilderment.
"I am fine. Are you studying something?" She asks curiously.
Her watch rakes the numerous piles of books strewn across two large tables.
"Yes, I am conducting an experiment that would hopefully assist me in solving this conundrum. I am finding the contents of these books rather arduous," she makes a brief gesture at the books, "and difficult to comprehend. However, if I can turn these explanations into some sort of numerical value, then it may provide a better explanation to this problem."
She speaks robotically without a single hitch in breath.
For a brief moment, Izumi appears confounded, albeit Honoka is unsure whether it is purely out of her inability to understand the comment or the actual idea surrounding the experiment itself.
"What are you conducting exactly?"
"I am trying to solve these newly spawned feelings," Honoka replies.
She draws out a large book from beneath a pile of paper and turns to a tabbed page with numerous writing.
"Izumi, you said to me that what I am feeling is love. I am trying to understand the exact definition of it. If I am able to quantify it and prove its existence, I may be able to find a method to counteract its effect."
There is a brief pause. Izumi's expression is oddly stilted, as if her conscious has disengaged itself from the part that processes meaning. But beneath the astonishment, there are traces of sadness and pity Honoka does not understand.
"Honoka, I don't think this is something that can be quantified," Izumi says slowly.
"I see no other way. If I cannot control what Shisui does or feel, the best I can do is control the outcome on my end. Regardless, I believe I am on to something."
When Izumi remains quiet, Honoka takes it as a cue to continue.
"My heart rate increases significantly when I am in Shisui's presence, however, I have also taken blood prick samples when this strange phenomenon is occurring. I compare this sample with a control - one that I have obtained earlier when I am not around Shisui. What I notice is the rising level of cortisol in my blood sample when I am in his presence. Cortisol is released when the body is under stress, thus I can conclude that Shisui's presence increases the level of stress chemicals in my body."
In the midst of speaking, Honoka draws out a stack of papers charted with graphs, numbers and complicated looking equations.
"However, this experiment contradicts something else. During and after being around Shisui, I notice an elevated feeling of contentment, as if nothing can possibly interfere with it. I have counted that such feelings last anywhere between three hours and twenty-four hours. This does not make sense, considering the concrete evidence of elevated cortisol in my blood."
She ends the sentence unexpectedly.
On Izumi's end, there is a peculiar expression that hovers, as if she is deciding on a good enough response to Honoka's oral dissertation. But the quietude stretches on, until Honoka's intrusive stare borders inappropriate.
"Are you working this hard to find a counter measure?" Izumi asks quietly.
There is a dispirit look beneath her inquisitive gaze, as if she is trying to figure Honoka's underlying motive.
"Yes, as I believe Shisui hates me and therefore it is impractical to hold such inconvenient feelings for him."
She glances glumly at the plateful of white-dotted brown sweets. In the past several days, Honoka has worked tirelessly to recover the ones lost in the midst of her dramatic entrance. Twice she has been unsuccessful in delivery - once because hospital staff caught her sneaking through the back entrance, and second, when she managed to ambush Shisui as he wandered out the hospital yard alone. Unfortunately, he had politely declined before disappearing for the hospital doors.
At Honoka's comment, Izumi is looking troubled.
"What makes you think he hates you?"
Honoka stares confoundedly.
"I have analysed his actions and behaviours in my presence, and it appears to have ticked all said criteria of hostility," she pulls out another small book from the unsteady packed pile, "I have read in this book that if someone avoids you, appears frustrated or cold towards you, refuses to speak to you and does not wish to associate with you, then it means they hate you and no longer want to be friends with you. Shisui has told me up front that he wishes to sever our friendship contract. I believe that is concrete evidence enough."
Izumi's puzzled look turns a shade of unease.
"That…doesn't sound right," she answers uncertainly.
Perhaps Izumi is re-evaluating her thoughts on Shisui, that he may not be the person she has come to associate as her friend? Regardless, her features have morphed into a parade of unreadable emotions, although it may be Honoka who is unable to comprehend such complexity.
"I don't know what goes on in his mind, but hate is a strong word. Shisui would never hate an enemy let alone someone he used to be friends with. You must be mistaken," Izumi continues.
"Are you able to prove such statement, Izumi? I have adequate evidence here, collated over a period of time and analysed using high quality, thoroughly researched scientific methods. I believe my explanation is justified."
Izumi is looking unconvinced.
"Did he tell you why he wanted to sever his friendship with you?"
Honoka does not immediately respond. She never pursued him for an answer, and frankly she may be holding back because of other discomforting thoughts.
"I decided not to as I have already analysed his actions and behaviours. It is also difficult to get to-"
She halts mid sentence as Shisui and Nanami reappear in the hospital yard. Immediately, the deep feelings of gloom resurface. The physical manifestation settles in her chest and constricts the very muscles that keeps her breathing.
There is an odd stoic expression played across Izumi's face. She watches the scenario with fierce attentiveness, until Shisui and Nanami disappear behind the hospital doors and her reverie breaks from the shuffling of papers.
When she speaks, her tone is quiet yet tentative.
"It must hurt you does it not? This situation?"
Honoka cannot formulate a precise answer to her question. There is a strong element of discomfort that reverberates against a blackened emptiness. Once filled with colours that resonated security, she cannot resent Shisui for taking them away from her. Because without him, she would only know the world as an inky monotone of bland.
"I do not understand what you mean by hurt as I do not have any visible wounds. But to know that I mean very little to the person who means so much to me, then yes, its physical manifestation is rather unpleasant."