two

It'd become a regular thing for me to see by this point. Like a muscle memory, I'd find myself awaiting the sight of her out of my peripheral vision as I wrapped up my conversation with Tomoru, who often stayed as late as I did simply for the sake of doing so. And, as one might expect when a muscle memory is intervened, something clicked in my mind, and my attention gradually began to float away from Tomoru and fix absentmindedly on Nozomi. At first, I figured it were nothing—that is, I assumed that perhaps Nozomi's friend had gotten herself caught up in other business and would merely be a few minutes late. But that turned out not to be the case. For minutes came, and minutes went. And she never showed.

It kept me on edge, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before my partial unease showed in my expression. In order to prevent Tomoru from sensing this, I insisted he head on home before me, and much to my relief the blockhead asked no further questions, nor did he seem suspicious. So I waited until all the others were gone. Until no one else remained in the classroom save Nozomi and me.

My heart was racing a mile a minute. It shouldn't have been, I told myself, internally spilling out nervous laughter. I liked to think of myself as quite the friendly individual. On most any occasion, I had absolutely no issue with approaching and speaking to a stranger, let alone a boy who was in the same age group and class as me. Nevertheless, I was a go-getter. There was simply no way that talking with him this one time could possibly alter my peaceable lifestyle.

"Nozomi? Is it alright if I call you Nozomi?"

His head had been resting comfortably in the small crook his folded arms had created, locks of his honey blonde hair falling over the edge of unbuttoned sleeves. Even though his eyelids were shielding my second chance at eye contact, something told me that he'd never been asleep. In fact, the boy's default expression actually made him appear sleep-deprived, and for some odd reason that made engaging in a conversation all the more challenging.

It took some time for him to even open his eyes, but eventually, Nozomi did look at me. And it caused my body to tense up momentarily.

"I don't really care what you call me," was his slow, soft-spoken reply. He had a rather pleasant sounding voice, very low, yet light and silvery at the same time. It was the kind of voice you'd expect would come from a natural-born singer. I tried my best to smile at him.

"Well then, Nozomi, I know this is real sudden, and not to mention kinda strange and maybe even rude since we're already in our third week, but I just thought I'd introduce myself-"

"Why?"

His interruption took me aback, and for the length of what seemed like an eternity I couldn't find the right response to his simple yet puzzling question.

"Uh, well, I-I just…"

"Get to the point already. I know you're here to ask about the rumors."

"The what now?"

A prolonged sigh was drawn from his nostrils. "Forget it, I don't wanna hear your excuse for playing dumb. Just get to the point before Naoki gets here."

She must be that first-year. "Isn't it late, though?" I pointed out in as polite a tone as I could manage. Unfortunately my endeavor not to upset the boy ended in utter failure, and with each further comment I set forth, I only seemed to fall deeper into the crevice known as one's 'bad side'. "Maybe she went home today."

A scowl stretched across Nozomi's pale complexion, and with gritted teeth he spat at me a bitter, "That isn't right."

Initially, I'd thought he had a reason for this statement other than denial, for he expressed it in such a matter-of-fact way. But once again my incapability to keep my mouth shut ended up proving me wrong.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to accuse her or anything," I said with a laugh, scratching the back of my head needlessly. "So does she plan on coming by later then? A-ah, and before you get angry, I'm not trying to be nosy or anything, I just wouldn't feel right leaving you here alone."

"And why is that?"

"Well, I-…"

His sight was narrowed on me-locked on my eyes so vehemently that I became convinced I were the only thing he could see, the only object in existence that he even acknowledged at the moment, and the fact that I happened to be in a negative spotlight certainly did not help to boost my self confidence. My heart was caught in my throat.

"I was curious…if you needed help of some kind."

I'd lowered my voice intentionally to a soft whisper, somehow fearing that my reply would be the wrong one. I shrunk into myself without saying another word.

"Do I…look like a helpless child to you?"

Ah, he took offense to that.

"Listen, whoever you are-I don't really care who you are but look…I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. So just…please just be on your way."

"…is that your phone ringing?"

"It's not."

I raised an eyebrow at Nozomi curiously, pointing my index finger at the source of the noise and vibrations, which happened to be from within the book bag at Nozomi's desk.

"Is that not your bag?"

"It is my bag."

"So is that not your phone ringing?"

"It can't be."

Nozomi's gaze shifted ever so slowly away from mine until it fell gently on his hands, which soon became curled into tightly clenched fists. "It can't be," he said again, this time with a hint of despair. "She seemed fine this morning. She didn't tell me otherwise. Why wouldn't she tell me?"

"Tell you wh-"

"Shut up."

Bitterness. By this point I was certain he hated me. But for some inexplicable reason I just couldn't bring myself to leave.

"Aren't you…gonna answer your phone?"

"I'm not. I already know what it's about."

And so he let it ring. It rang and it rang until the sweet song it'd been playing ceased abruptly, and a strange, unsettling silence filled the room. And it sat there for some time-the silence, that is, till Nozomi's tolerance of it seemed to reach its peak, and he snapped at me again. But it wasn't in a loud voice, no…I was beginning to wonder if he were even capable of raising his voice.

"Why aren't you leaving?"

"I'm waiting for you."

"But why?"

"Is it wrong of me to wanna talk to a classmate?"

A small, amused smile tugged at the corner of my mouth as I noticed he was gradually begin to cave in. I had no evil intentions, so the success of my methods of uncovering more about this standoffish transfer student somewhat pleased me. However I was the only pleased one here.

"I'm not going with you."

"C'mon, don't be stubborn," I chuckled. "The principal's gonna kick us out soon anyway. Let's get out of here."

I wasn't sure when exactly it had happened, but somewhere along the way my confidence managed to restore itself, and with my own amiability now in control, I was able to smile sincerely at Nozomi without hesitation. And I coaxed him out of his chair by gently taking hold of his arm and lifting it up whilst maintaining a friendly gaze. Well, in truth it was merely one-sided, for Nozomi's eyes had drifted elsewhere.

Once I'd been assured he was on his feet and carrying his book bag, I made my way happily over to the doorway of the classroom, internally celebrating for having achieved what the majority of my classmates had since deemed impossible.

"Are your legs okay?" I shot Nozomi a concerned glance, deeply puzzled upon noticing that he hadn't moved an inch from where I'd left him. "Nozomi?"

"My legs are fine," he growled indignantly, nose and mouth both visibly twitching with irritation.

"C'mon then, I'll race ya down the hallway."

"Not happening."

"At least don't make me wait here all day for you."

"I'm coming, alright?!"

I chose not to say anything after that. With my back against the door frame, I watched as Nozomi clutched the straps of his book bag as though it were his life line, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on where his next footstep would be. His head seemed to wobble every now and then, eyelids fluttering, steps straying from what should having been an easy and straight course. And there was something about the clear unease in Nozomi's expression as he walked that struck a cord in me, and I anticipated that guilt would once again take over.

Something was wrong.

"Nozomi? Do you need help?"

"I don't…"

"Nozomi, I'm over here."

He wasn't even looking at me anymore. Where he was he fell to his knees, inching himself backward until something solid touched his back. He allowed his stiffened posture to loosen, while his facial features only became more tense.

"I can't do it…" came his hopeless whisper, followed by the sound of his bag sliding off his shoulder and hitting the floor. "It's worse today…"

I was afraid to ask any more questions. I was afraid of angering him. So I voiced my best assumption based on what I had observed thus far.

"You're sick."

"No, I'm visually impaired, you numbskull."