Forty Winks | K. Shirabu

┗ 𝘛𝘞𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘠-𝘍𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘛𝘏 𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘒

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𝘛𝘞𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘠-𝘍𝘖𝘜𝘙𝘛𝘏 𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘒:
— you remind me of autumn.

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The morning after was chaotic. 

Not the type of chaos where everyone was noisy and blabbing about the things they want— no matter how nonsensical it gets. In fact, little to nobody noticed anything strange aside from the slow progress they were achieving in terms of studying for the examinations.

It was the type of chaos that kept silent the whole day.

She knew that her eyes were still slightly bloated from yesterday night. It caught Kawanishi's attention in class and he did ask about it. Chuckling, she meekly twirled her locks around her finger.

"It was a sad movie," She said, and he believed— nodding before proceeding to his seat.

From how he witnessed her arguments with the setter way back, he knew how emotional she could get, so he waved it off just as she did.

She sighed to herself, fingers tapping on her own desk. Her classmates were engrossed in their own chairs— with some occupied in a conversation with their seatmates. There was nothing to see nor take note of whenever their teacher still hasn't arrived. An inner voice told her to open a book to study or read a novel to make use of her time. She tried, really, touching the page with her fingertips before her head flew to another world she'd created to cope with boredom.

If her mind couldn't focus on words, on things, it drifts off to oblivion— and there, there she'd find something she could spare time with. A random thought she got at 3 am, an idea she came up within the middle of club practice, a question she read on the internet— it's fine, whatever it was, to make the clock tick and she'd be on the period she wanted the moment she escapes her brain.

So, she was in utter chaos when she couldn't think of anything.

She knew she was staring at the accessory adorning her wrist, but that was all there is to it. There was no thought to process nor memory to recall.

It was void, blank, and empty— a still picture was all she could make out.

The frozen scene and the insensate emotion she experienced, it was suffocating— thorns pricking her eyelids as it told her to close her vision. She wondered why gravity felt heavier than usual that morning.

Yui regretted not listening to Semi's advice to not attend today's classes.

When her phone vibrated in her uniform's pocket, she unknowingly felt grateful.

The text was from Shirabu, and suddenly, she thought that the bracelet had a miniature scratch, that her former friend entered the room, and that the picture moved.

He left a message saying that he'll stay in the room for lunch— she assumed that he needed the extra time since it wouldn't slow down for them, and for exams, too.

It would be a trouble to eat alone though. Getting Kawanishi to tag along should be fine with a little persuasion and a few coins off her wallet.

To her surprise, he agreed without much resistance. Unlike her generally passive approach to rumors, he didn't like being a subject to one until this day. He was at the point of his life where he didn't really care about them anymore.

It saved her money, at least.

"It wouldn't hurt to have friends, Yui."

"Shut it," She pouted, "Not my fault they chose to stick with Shio-san."