Scars || T. Oikawa Spin-off

30| Goodbye

   I still haven't found the courage to wear short sleeves to school yet, and that's okay with me. Akira, on the other hand, is boiling up about it. Spring is here and today is the last day of my first year in college. Only three more to go after this. It's been a crazy year, full of ups and downs, but every moment shaped me. Not to say I'm very fond of myself, but she's more tolerable than before. This year's felt like therapy. 

   The cherry blossom trees are blooming, and the school's garden is returning to its former glory. 

   As of now, I'm standing in front of my Literature class with four of my dormmates and friends by my side. We've worked hard on our project all year. And when I say we, I mean mostly Sato with the assistance of myself, Hanako, and even Ayame, while Haru barely did anything. 

   Sato and I put the story together, which turned out to be the length of a novel. Hanako put the presentation together because we obviously can't read everyone a full book in ten minutes. Ayame designed all the images. And I also grew flowers in the school's greenhouse, which represents each character. 

   Sato does the majority of the presenting. But when it comes to the final part, where the main character dies, I finish up. 

   Our professor looks at us with pride. Most of the students in the room have tears streaming down their cheeks. 

   "Thank you!" we exclaim with a bow, smiling happily at one another. 

   Everyone in the room stands up, clapping so loudly that Maki and Nakagawa could probably hear us from the science labs.

   We take our seats, knowing full well that we easily got an A. I feel bad for the two groups that had to present after us. They couldn't even compare. 

   Soon, my final Literature class ends, and we get up to leave. But our professor stops us before we could get too far, signaling for us to wait. 

   We steal glances at each other before walking down to his desk. He sits there with Sato's novel-length project in hand, feet propped up on the old wooden desk. 

   "I already have my suspicions, but which one of you wrote this?" he asks, making eye contact with Sato. It's not like there's really any question. The rest of us are shit story writers. 

   We avoid eye contact, causing him to sigh. 

   "You'll all get full credit. Now tell me who wrote this."

   We take a sigh of relief. One of the project's criteria was for everyone to contribute something. Since Sato did most of the work, we were almost in big trouble. Especially Haru. 

   Sato holds his hand up, "Um, I did with a lot of help from Mia," he says. 

   The professor closes his eyes and nods, "I see," he says, sitting up straight in his chair, handing the stack of paper back to Sato, "It would be a waste if I kept this." 

   Sato hesitantly takes it from his hands, "Hm, I'm not sure I understand what you're getting at," he says, look down at the story that took him months to write. 

   Our professor folds his hands together, "I read that all in one sitting. It was a beautiful story. And the ending was one of the best I've ever encountered," he smiles, looking up at Sato through his bushy eyebrows that everyone jokes will one day come alive to haunt the school, "I can always buy one of the published copies one day."

   Sato's face lights up as his mouth hangs open. In all honesty, the rest of us aren't even surprised. We figured something like this might happen. Though, our professor calling a story based on my hellscape of a childhood beautiful, almost makes me laugh.