The Girl that Time Forgot

11. Is that my bag

There was a giddy impatience to your every action the next day, as if the hands on the clock couldn't tick by any slower. You'd silently count down the seconds to the end of each period, and that didn't go unnoticed by Hinata. So you shouldn't have been surprised when she began lunchtime with a question.

"Did something happen?"

"Huh?"

You looked up, mid-bite of your sandwich. Quickly you swallowed it, not without chewing thoroughly first.

"What do you mean?" You asked, not entirely sure what she was referring to.

"You seem weirdly excited today, and I keep seeing you look at the clock... Is there something important happening after school today?"

You didn't miss the way her eyes glued onto the extra bag you carried to school with you today. You're not sure if you're ready to give the whole truth, knowing just how headstrong she is. You had no doubt that she'd personally track those delinquents down to give them a good scolding, even if you told her that they've been beaten enough. Talk about rubbing salt in the wound.

So you settle for something vague, "I'm meeting with someone to return their bag."

You gestured to the bag she was already staring a hole into. Despite withholding most of the details, she seemed satisfied with your response, looking back up with a smile.

"Is that so?"

Well, only if he ended up coming back to the same place as yesterday. That would hopefully give you a chance of getting to talk to him more. Maybe become friends. And, dare you say, exchange numbers? For contact reasons, of course. Speaking of which...

"Hinata-chan, can I have your number?"

.

.

.

As you trekked the streets, homeward bound, you couldn't help the smile stretching across your lips. It sounds stupid, crazy even, to be so overly exuberant at the two strings of number in your contacts, and maybe it was, but you could honestly care less. When the memories of their smiles aren't enough proof that they welcome you here, then you simply need to open your phone and see their names. At the same time, this would give the device an use beyond ordering you around with a to-do list.

Retracing the road, with the recollection of yesterday as your only blueprint, you faintly recognized the wall that the delinquent was knocked into. A dried smear of red marks the spot. You approached it, as if to further confirm that this was indeed the same spot as yesterday. It was.

Here.

What were you supposed to do now? Waiting seems like the right answer, but there was no guarantee that he'd find his way back here. Or perhaps he had already sought you out, but as luck would have it, you missed one another by the factor of time alone. If that were the case, it'd be rather disheartening. But... it wouldn't feel right to hold your savior in such low regards, so you decided to wait. You have the time, you reasoned. It's Friday; the end of the week, and whatever you can do today can be done just as well on the following days off.

So you stood there, accompanying time as it ticked by.

You measured time in the way your shadow shifted, stretching farther and farther like it'd take off and leave you behind if given the choice. You lift your hand, waving at it, and it waved back, a stranger that had been with you for the entire length of your lifetime.