Part 3: And So They Meet

We enter the main school building and make our way towards Mr. Hirashi's office. Our school has two buildings; the main building, which holds the first year classrooms and most of the staff offices, and the secondary building, which has the second and third year classrooms. Mr. Hirashi's office is at the very end of the first floor hallway. Meaning we have to squeeze through a tidal wave of first years to get there. 

Not that I mind though. Somehow, I find it really comforting when I'm in tight spaces. There's a sense of safety in it, like how a fetus must feel when completely enveloped within a mother's womb. I swear, it's just about that feeling, I'm totally not a masochist who likes to get squeezed at all!

Despite the rowdy exterior, his office is actually really nice. The room is insulated, so none of the noise from outside gets in. Plus, the air conditioning is just the right temperature where it's neither too hot nor too cold. Add that to the fact that his office also has a very minimalist vibe to it, and you've got yourself the perfect safe place for students to let out all of their troubles.

Not for me though. I see right through this pathetic attempt at getting people to let their guard down so they can be broken down much more easily.

Or at least that's what I'd like to say, but I honestly don't even know what I should do even if I'm aware of such things.

"Have a seat, Jo. I'll make us some coffee."

"5 spoons of sugar for me, please."

"Yes, I know. And lots of creamer, right?"

Mr. Hirashi lets out a subtle chuckle as he pours coffee into two cups. Our sessions always start out like this. He makes coffee for both of us, he asks me about how my day went yesterday, and finishes with how I'm feeling so far. Though it's not as simple as that. We would always go back and forth, with him asking some seemingly simple probing questions while I do my best to redirect them. I get the feeling that any other guidance counselor would have grown tired of me by now and give up. But Mr. Hirashi goes along with my charade and even gets the better of me everytime.

"Okay Jo, before we get started, I'd first like to ask you–"

"Mr. Hirashi. Sorry for interrupting you, but I know what you're going to say already. And I believe I've answered the same way every time. So may we perhaps skip all of that and get straight to the ending?"

I keep a stoic face but I can feel a little smirk trying to come through. I've practiced this for a while now and if it goes well, then I might be able to get away from these tedious sessions once and for all. 

I look at Mr. Hirashi for any kind of reaction, but he still has his usual goofy smile. In fact, he didn't respond for a while. He simply sat down and put the two cups of coffee on the table. He then took a sip from his cup and closed his eyes for a brief moment, as if to savor the caffeine entering his system.

"I'm glad you said that, Jo. Actually, I was also going to suggest we skip the usual routine."

"Then, does that mean I'm free to go?"

"Not yet. I'll explain what I mean in a bit, so bear with me. We're just waiting on one more person."

Just as soon as he said that, someone knocked on the door.

"Ah, right on time"

Mr. Hirashi put down his cup and stood up to open the door.

"Please, come on in."

He warmly gestures for the person to come in. As he stands aside, I see a female student enter the room. 

At first glance, she seems unremarkable. Her physical frame, shoulder-length black hair, and nondescript face; everything about her just screams average. Well, except for the rather cute headband she has on and the singular braid of hair going down the side of her face. Though that's more of a personal preference rather than an objective judgment.

I wouldn't go so far as to label her as unattractive, but she is a little bit above average at best.

"Have a seat right over here."

Mr. Hirashi motions towards the chair right beside me. The girl follows suit and sits down beside me, giving me a short, courteous nod to acknowledge my existence. I subconsciously return the gesture. I curse society for indoctrinating me with the need to return any politeness that's shown to me.

But I must admit, looking at her from such a close angle, she does have a certain charm about her that could almost make my heart flutter.

Almost.