What Are We Searching For, Really?

4.

—7;48am.

I twiddled around with my vine crown and stroked the tiny thorns, holding it up against the window of the train to see the light shining through the green. I inhaled the fresh wood-like smell of the object, sighing in appreciation. It was almost as if it had turned into my comfort object.

The weight of the flute case on my back pressed against my shoulders as I leaned against the side of the doors, a thing I always did on trains. I should probably stop ditching concert band practice; after all, we had a competition coming up.

Besides, what's more was that the flute and trumpet solo auditions were coming up and I really wanted the flute solo position.

I knew one of my upperclassmen, Celine, was going for it too, and she was already competition for me. I knew I should start practicing again, but for some strange reason, I was scared to see Yasmin.

I scratched my chin in wonder. What am I feeling right now? Why? Why am I scared?

The thought lingered in my mind as I got off the train, swiped my card, crossed the road, almost got hit by a motorcycle and trudged up the steep road towards my school.

The motorcycle from earlier, I realised, was parked in the school's parking lot. Wait, I thought, that guy who was driving is from our school??

When I took a closer look and hid behind the corner I saw my History teacher, Mr. Takashiro. He was inevitably good looking and also a Japanese man, but very young, only the age of twenty three. On top of all that, he was popular among girls in our school and always getting little gifts, notes and other things. Today, he was wearing a semi-casual work outfit with a jacket on top and smart shoes, a red tie loose around his neck.

He looked especially good today with his hair semi-tousled and eyes brighter than usual.

Or maybe his eyes were always bright, but I've never noticed?

I patted my bangs and slightly messy space buns for a check and after a few seconds, I casually walked out of my corner and held a soft smile on my face, waving my hand at him.

"Good morning, Mr. Takashiro."

He put his helmet down and turned around, his startled face melting into a calm one. "Oh, good morning, Won. Just arrived at school?"

"Yep." I walked over and examined the motorcycle, confirming that it was the one which almost crashed into me earlier. I tilted my head to look up at him.

"Sir, I think you almost crashed into me earlier."

His eyes widened in shock and he immediately backed away from me, a flustered look washing over his features.

"I-was that you?" he rambled, a nervous smile on his face. "I didn't know and I was in a rush and I-"

"No, it's fine, it's fine!" I waved my hands in front of me to reassure him. "Really. I just wanted to ask."

"Still sorry...I'm glad you're not hurt. I would've gotten into serious consequences." he locked his motorcycle to the sidepost and stood up awkwardly. I felt a warm feeling spreading through my body when I was finding out how shy and awkward he was.

Sigh.

"Uhm..Won, don't I have you first thing?" he said quickly, trying to break the awkward silence.

"Ah-yeah! We were supposed to work on our popular culture poster today," I said, shifting my books around in my hands. "It's a fun project. I like history a lot."

"Won, are you saying this because I'm the teacher or because you actually like History?"

Woah. Did he realise?