A Firefly's Glow

Chapter Eighteen: Part Five

“Hotaru. Hotaru! Hotaru!”

Mikan abruptly clapped her hands, and I flinched backwards with a shriek.

“Peaceful way to wake up someone, Mikan,” Amanatsu rolled his eyes, clutching onto his script.

“She wasn’t asleep. Who sleeps with their eyes open?”

“Sorry,” I mashed the back of my hand against my eyes. “I was just spacing out.”

“Little girl, you have a skit to perform in about fifteen minutes. Shouldn’t you be practicing with your partner?”

“I—“ my voice trailed away, and I glanced at the packet of papers that sat over my lap.

“He’s over there,” Mikan pointed a finger to a direction behind me. I followed her finger to what she was pointing to, and I nearly jumped out of the potato sack I was sitting in when I caught Keita’s gaze.

He slowly turned his gaze away from me. It seemed to linger towards the windows.

No one else was talking to him. He was sitting on the floor alone with his legs sprawled out in front of him. His script, too, was in his lap.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Mikan questioned. “Go over there! Practice! This skit is like a project grade, you know!”

I squeaked as I stood onto my feet. When I turned back towards him, and I caught his gaze focused back towards me, I quickly collapsed back into my seat.

“I c-can’t!” I stuttered, covering my head with my hands.

It was a few seconds later when I heard Amanatsu’s voice start to rise.

“Mikan . . .”

I quickly whipped my head up to see Mikan holding her arms out towards me in a clawed fashion. I responded to her pose with a short “eep”.

Her voice gradually and dangerously rose as she murmured, “Get your butt over there before I create a situation where you should have gotten your butt over there when I told you to!”

I rapidly rose onto my feet and scrambled towards Keita with my eyes tightly shut. When I found the wall and I sat down with my bag against it, I placed my forehead against my knees.

I had no idea if I sat in the right spot or not.

“Why did you come here and what do you want?”

I looked up as I opened my eyes. Keita was only around an inch away from me, and my eyes immediately locked onto his.

I crawled backwards in the fashion of a crabwalk. “Nothing!”

“Well, wouldn’t it make sense to practice the script? We have to perform in about fifteen minutes.”

“I know,” I made sure not to lock gazes with him again. I knew I had the urge to turn back around to look at him, but I kept my head faced away.

“Flip to the first page.”

I did as I was told, flipping to the first page.

“Start from the top,” he instructed.

I would have commented that I couldn’t do the part where I would step forward because I wasn’t standing up, but I kept silent.

“’Wait,’” I heard Keita’s voice recite. I took a swallow and began my line in an awkward murmur.

“’What is—‘”

Before I could finish, I was interrupted.

“’I’m sorry.’”

The way Keita said his next line seemed extra loudly exaggerated.