Anhane Minis

Contradictories [OS]

The one day Kohane forgets her glasses in favor of her expired contacts is the same day nothing normal could ever occur.

That’s what she usually thinks on a regular basis, not usually on a Monday, however. She thought both her ears and (blurred) eyes were playing tricks on her when she heard her name being called around in the distance and the bright blue hair shining under the afternoon sun.

But no, it’s Shiraishi An.

“Hey beautiful,” An said, nearly tripping over the air, she somehow landed herself. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re walking alone, would you like a ride home?”

Kohane completely halts movement, her expression unsure of what to be. Shiraishi An was standing in front of Miyamasuzaka Girl’s Academy in a Kamiyama uniform and a cat helmet (A Birman cat, Kohane recognizes)

“I appreciate your offer, but-” Kohane paused, she’s completely lost.

An’s school bell wasn’t supposed to ring for another half an hour, she didn’t have any safety besides the clearly aged helmet and matte finger gloves, and most importantly, she’s on a scooter. Shiraishi An is riding a scooter and offering Kohane a ride home.

Whether she noticed the look on her face or the creases of her sneakers as she kneels up, An quickly stepped off the unmotor-vehicle, tugging the safety straps off from under her chin. “No worries, Kohane. I have a license!”

She’s been in at least a dozen driver’s education classes in her lifetime, purely just for the fundamentals and extra credits, maybe closer to two dozen. Never has she heard the requirement of having a license to ride a scooter on the sidewalk let alone anything acquainted to a two wheeled board with a stick.

An struggled with her pockets, eventually pulling out a poor excuse of a wallet, torn at the edges and covered in stickers that should’ve spelt her name (a few letters were messing, she was now Shihi An). She whipped out a small license, everything immediately clicking to Kohane but still raising every alarm system in her mind.

It wasn’t a government license, it was an unofficial skateboarding license from a local rink, for riding a scooter, bike, or skateboard (however, it expired last year). 

Kohane held her breath, slowly nodding. An shoved her fist back into her pocket and pulled the helmet off her head, revealing her disastrous hair underneath. One moment later, Kohane is unable to see the hair as now she was wearing said helmet. “Safety first, as always–” An says, immediately contradicting herself while fastening the belts under Kohane’s chin with the most gentle of care. 

“Thank you, An-chan.” Kohane smiles, which was more of a wonky attempt at a grin, An fastened it too tightly. “What about you though?”

“Me? No worries, helmets are only for rookies and gorgeous girls.” An replies, patting Kohane’s shoulder. 

She glares, unsure of whether to be unimpressed by An’s statement or be fond that An used two synonyms to call her pretty in that interaction (or by how blatantly persistent An is at breaking a law), she instead lifts her hand up in a thumbs up.

Her scooter is covered in wonky shapes and colors, clearly an old model as seen by the nearly gray wheels that have almost all the tiling work chipped straight off. There’s also a slightly torn unicorn sticker on it, that was just a bonus. An is smiling wide, Kohane pictures a sparkle appearing straight out of thin air to highlight it all.

It’s a Monday afternoon, previously the most normal day back when An would stay after school to fulfill her Disciplinary Committee duties before running to Kohane’s house so they could walk to practice together. It really was normal, now she’s only really at her Committee when they call her, which leaves a painful amount of free time.

The same free time that had Kohane standing behind An on a scooter that clearly was not manufactured to fit two people. 

She wrapped her arms along An’s waist, already regretting every single decision made up to that point. Her head pressed on An’s shoulder, which was complicated with the bulky helmet on her head. “It’s alright, Kohane–” An began, twisting her hand around the handles as if she was revving a motorcycle. “I won’t let anything happen on our way back, okay?” 

Sidewalks usually had nothing more than the occasional person with a dog or the sudden wave of people every few crossroads, which made Kohane’s muscles less tense as they went a grand total of five miles per hour across the fencing of Miyamasuzuka. Even then, Kohane was holding on for dear life around An, to the point that anyone would’ve assumed it was soon to be a crime scene.

Kohane is meanwhile still trying to make sense of everything, why An suddenly showed up in a scooter, why is she here at this time, why, just why? Nothing was answered, An was wearing a shirt with a soccer quote on it, she has never played soccer in her life (or not to Kohane’s knowledge, at least).

“Oh, wait,” An stops in the middle of the sidewalk, making Kohane fasten her grip once again. “I made a wrong turn.”

That gives Kohane yet another list of questions; Why? When? How?