RDG-red data girl

2

Walking into class C, she was startled to see students over a desk, making a big commotion. They were mostly girls, chirping with interest. Huh? What was this?

As Izumiko walked closer, she sees a boy in the school uniform. She doesn't recognize him, so it was a new student. Was he an exchange student?

Despite their innocent demeanor, she had had trouble with them in the past... Izumiko decided that it would be best if she steered clear of any suspicious figures. Tentatively inching around the huddle of classmates, she sneaked a glance at him. His aura was completely clean; there were no signs of unusual behavior, either. She sighs with relief, taking her seat in front of Manatsu, who seemed indifferent and unaware about the new student.

"Hey, hey! Himouto, what type of girls do you like?" A girl swoons down at him, and the girls giggle.

Surprisingly, the new student laughs knowingly, and replies, "Then it wouldn't be a secret, would it?" He flashes them a prince-like smile. At that the girls squeal, some boys looking on with disgust, some with what looked like envy. Izumiko just stared, her mouth an 'o'. How bold this guy was-- he seemed just like a new Takayanagi... that is, more extreme.

Izumiko shivers. He didn't seem to be an exchange student, that's for sure.

"God, I hate guys like him." Manatsu grumbled.

She didn't say anything, only watching the interaction a moment before sitting down at her desk. It wasn't like she thought the same way as Manatsu, she barely knew the new student, but it's not like she would want to start a conversation with the guy.

"Maybe he isn't so bad," she could only say, smiling nervously at him. It was easier to talk to Manatsu after everything they had been through together; still, she wished she was also in a class with Mayura, or .. Miyuki.

She shook her head, her braids shimming behind her shoulders.

Class went on as usual, the new student seeming to blend in with the class. Watching him from across the room, she shook her head, trying to wash out the thoughts like they were washable. He couldn't be any foe, maybe just a simple classmate. She was probably just overthinking, like she always was.

Still, she couldn't drop her nerves. Maybe it was his playboy attitude? The way a lot of the girls surrounded him, like moths to a flame. She shouldn't jump to conclusions; maybe he was trying to fit in. After all, she could understand exaggerating yourself and your personality as a new student-- she had tried it, but it never worked for her. 

She went to lunch a class period later, meeting Mayura at their usual table. It was nice to escape class for once, which was odd, because she enjoyed learning. It wasn't an understatement that with the new classmate it wasn't particularly pleasant for her. Izumiko was easily anxious over the littlest things; often imagining something that wasn't there. Like something was out to get her.

"Hi. How is your day so far?" Izumiko greeted her friend pleasantly.

Mayura groaned, seeming to count off her hand the things that happened so far. Izumiko's only interjection in the conversation was light giggles and questions, she wasn't much of a conservationist-- she'd rather listen.

Still, while Manatsu made his way over to the lunch table,  with plates piled with an assortment of cafeteria food, she could only look at an empty seat, where Miyuki would sometimes sit. She didn't have to ask where he was; probably in the library studying, or off with some other students. Her smile fell, the eyelashes that framed her brown eyes falling down flatly.

It was an understatement to say it was disheartening how only weeks ago, at the school festival, they had grown so close and he had put distance between them again.  They used to hate each other, but that had changed.. he had changed, and she as well. They were in high school now, and for once in her life she felt like someone understood her. It didn't matter what nonsense Yukimasa would say-- she was no higher than him, her kimono cascading down on him as she stood on a pedestool. It wasn't like that. They were equals, even... friends. She knew she could face anything with him by her side, holding her hand. 

 Maybe he was just busy,  but it made her question if it was more than coincidence after coincidence, or bad timing.