The Materiality Principle

"Hazuki-san, yes?"

"Yup, you got that right, that's me. What did you need me for, Ryugazaki-kun?"

"...We need to talk."

As we walk down the hallway, I am acutely aware of the young man beside me, swinging his arms around without a care in the world. His name is Nagisa Hazuki, a blond-haired, bright-eyed, hyper energetic classmate of mine who I unfortunately have the bad luck of having to talk to.

The things I do for my sanity.

"Ryugazaki-kun, we've been walking for such a long time." Hazuki drawls, pouting. Such a kicked-puppy-dog face would have worked on other people - especially on his one known associate, Tachibana-senpai - but no, it's not going to work onme. "Aren't we there yet?"

"Almost," I say, pushing up my glasses with one hand. I had intended to bring Hazuki to a place that more-or-less had privacy - like the grounds out back, or an empty hallway - but, judging from the actions of the person I am about to talk to, it would be in my best interest for me to choose a place which had people in it.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but....It could never hurt to have a witness.

The rooftop, then. I'm skipping lunch for the sake of this hooligan, surely everyone else won't be following suit? There are usually some fellow freshmen who take their lunches up there, as well...

As we arrive at the top of the stairs, I throw the door open with a swing I'd prefer to descrivbe as 'graceful'. And, because I am obviously nothing if not a gentleman, I throw Hazuki a hopefully-emotionless glance and tell him, "After you."

It's just my luck that there seem to be a couple of girls our age having lunch on the rooftop as well. Nice. Maybe if Hazuki eventually chucks me down the rooftop, there'd be someone there to confirm my source of death...I think.

"So thoughtful." Hazuki says in reply, raising his eyebrow - coyly, I guess, would be the adverb best suited to describe it. As he passes me his posture shifts and the smile on his face grows less playful, more pensive, which is. Actually not quite a bad look on him. But I'm not here to comment on that arbitrary thing. "What did you wanna talk about?"

I push up my glasses with a hand, again. I am aware that this is a nervous tic, something I have to train myself out of quickly, because one cannot be enigmatic if they have fairly obvious tells. That shall be a concern I will have to deal with later. As for now...

As for now, Hazuki's been humming some kind of inane tune. If I don't get this over with soon, I have the sinking feeling that I might get that tune stuck in my head for the better part fof a week.

"Hazuki-san."

"Hmm?"

"Whatever it is you're doing, please stop."

"Which thing?" Hazuki asks, somewhat carelessly for someone who had looked so silly - and so serious. "This, humming to myself, or this, looking at you?"

He says the last part out loud, so plainly, that I have to reach for my glasses again, if only to mask how my cheeks are set aflame. How dare he drive me to feel so...embarrassed, that must be it, that definitely must be what I'm feeling, because if I ever have to say "flattered" and "Hazuki" in the same sentence I don't know what I should be doing with myself.

"That...I was actually going to talk to you about that last part." I say, berating myself because where is your reputed coolness now, Ryugazaki? Skipping lunch really does have a bad effect on me. Zero points, shall never try it again. "I had heard you always went to watch the track club practice."