A Firefly's Glow

Chapter Fourteen: Part Three

“Mashiro, Amanatsu?” Haruka’s gentle voice calmly announced as his eyes scrolled through the parchment he clutched in his hands.

There was no response.

“He’s not here,” Haruka dimly murmured as he glanced up from his roll of parchment. “Mashiro, Mikan?”

“She’s absent too, sir!” an unfamiliar voice loudly blurted just inches behind me.

“Odd,” Haruka mused, scribbling onto his roll of parchment with a sharp quill.

I slumped in the abnormal potato sack, rising my gaze towards the ceiling. The seats beside me were occupied by two very unfamiliar classmates that I couldn’t recognize. I was fully aware that if Mikan and Amanatsu were present, they’d allow me to sit in between them.

However, today’s Theatre class is different, and I recognized why.

“What are you looking for, Hotaru?”

I immediately turned my attention towards Mikan’s curious stare. “O-Oh,” I stammered. “No one.”

Mikan narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips together in silence. When she finally spoke, what she said was, “Hanabusa-kun sits to your left by the window.”

Without hesitation, I whipped my head according to Mikan’s instructions and she had been absolutely correct.

Keita’s strawberry-blonde hair shimmered in the sunlight’s rays, and his flawlessly sculpted face was turned nonchalantly out the spotless window. His hands sat before him, clutched into mild fists placed upon the table top.

He sat alone, silent, and still as if he were a statue.

“I knew you were looking for him!” Mikan cheerfully crooned, taking a gleeful sip from the thin glass she held in her fingers.

I began to protest, but my words seemed to freeze. I couldn’t argue—I was looking for Keita, and Mikan had guessed correctly.

“Aren’t you going to talk to him?” Mikan insisted, setting her glass onto the tabletop and sliding backwards against the spine of her chair.

I rapidly shook my head.

“Why not?” Mikan interrogated, folding her arms against her chest.

“I spilt a glass of water on him last night.”

I caught the urge to laugh wobbling on Mikan’s lips, but she seemed to hold it in enough to keep it hidden. “I guess water isn’t too bad, but I didn’t know you hated him so much—“

“It was an accident,” I blurted, feeling my cheeks bend into a shade of crimson.

“Well, what kind of—“ she whipped her hands up into the air in air quotes. “—“accident” happened?”

I paused. I wasn’t exactly sure of what I saw. I remembered reaching towards a glass to catch a hold onto it, but I failed. I didn’t remember touching the glass at all, but my mistake of holding out my hand right when the glass was yanked over looked like genuine proof that I had attempted to tip the glass onto him on purpose.

“It’s hard to explain,” I shyly murmured, lowing my head towards my lap.

“Well, did you spill it on purpose?”

I slowly shook my head.

“Hanabusa-kun doesn’t particularly like anything. If you leave it alone, he won’t forget it.”