Polaroid | Suna Rintarou

01: Monochrome

When you think of 'high school life,' you imagine the best years of your life. It's supposed to be as colorful as the manga, books, anime, or movies you've consumed. You picture yourself as the main character or heroine in a hit story, filled with different shades of colors.

Adults often reminisce about how fun high school was, but whenever I hear that, I can only put my earphones in and turn the volume up.

Not all high school students crave a rainbow-like life. I speak from experience as someone living in a monochromatic world. Nothing piqued my interest—art, music, studying, or romance. I played volleyball since elementary school only because my mother pestered me until I caved. She constantly asked what I wanted to do, what interested me, urging me to go outside and play with the neighborhood kids.

One day, I saw my father engrossed in a volleyball match on TV. It caught my attention, so I decided to give it a try. It was easy for me. With simple analytical skills, I could manipulate the opposing players. I stuck with it through high school to pass my boredom and satisfy my mother. But I never cared or felt passionate about it like some of my teammates, especially the blonde jerk Atsumu, who lived and breathed the sport.

Staying on the grey side of life, I went with the flow at my own pace, like a calm stream.

Boring? Dull? Lifeless. That's how people described me. I didn't care. I was content with black-and-white until I met her. She was a pest who, out of nowhere, invaded my life, blindingly full of bright colors. She touched my soul and left marks, each radiant hue slowly filling my greyscale world.

It started one fine day. I was resting on a bench just outside the school building, lying flat on my back with one forearm as my pillow, the other resting on my stomach. A gentle wind blew through my dark brown hair as my eyes grew heavier, and I began to doze off.

My vision was swallowed by darkness as I shut my eyes. Osamu's voice calling my name and his twin Atsumu whining about something became distant noises and eventually died down.

Deep in my slumber, I heard noises from above the building, assuming the windows were open as the sounds grew louder. Girls chattering and laughing made my brows furrow in irritation, but I ignored it and continued my sleep.

In the state of nothingness, floating in peace, a loud shriek disrupted my tranquility. Before I knew it, a liquid hit my face, jolting me awake, eyes wide open.

Pink fluid dripped from my wet hair, the smell of raspberry invading my nose. I heard gasps from different corners, especially from above. With my brows furrowed, I looked up and glared at the culprit.

Three girls stood at the window, two looking at the one in the middle. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw my icy stare. Instead of apologizing, she ducked below the window.

I quickly rushed inside the building, making my way to the stairs. Reaching her room, my wet hair still dripping, I opened the door and saw her crawling towards the door, trying to escape. She looked up at me with horror, swallowing hard before standing to face me.

"I-I'm cleaning the floor," she stammered, avoiding my grayish-yellow eyes.

I crossed my arms over my chest, holding my icy stare. After a long moment, she finally met my gaze. Clasping her hands, she shut her eyes. "I'm sorry! Please forgive me! It was an accident, I promise. My drink just slipped from my hands. I didn't mean for that to happen."

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. I didn't have the energy for this. She peeked at my reaction and pulled out a handkerchief from her skirt pocket, holding it out to me. I looked at it—it seemed clean enough—so I took it and wiped my face.

"Apology accepted?" she asked sheepishly.

"Fine," I replied in monotone, turning my back and walking to the restroom to wash off the sticky feeling of the spilled juice. Relieved, I thought I wouldn't have to see that girl again.

Feeling refreshed, I stepped out of the restroom, only to be surprised by her waiting outside. She smiled brightly at me. "I'm really sorry for what happened back there. My name is [Reader]." She held out a hand, but I didn't take it.

Undeterred, she continued to smile. "Suna Rintarou," I replied flatly.

"So, I—" I cut her off mid-sentence.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"I just want to make it up to you." Her expression was genuine.

"Don't bother, it's fine."

"But—" I didn't let her finish, turning my back once again to go back to my classroom.

What a bothersome woman.

I didn't care about my rude treatment towards her. I thought that would stop her from approaching me, but I was wrong. She showed up after practice, and the day after that, and the day after that, for an entire week, she followed me around.

I tried brushing her off, but the stubborn woman wouldn't budge. "What do you want from me? Why do you keep following me?!" I made sure my words were harsher each time.

"I like you," she said flatly, without considering how her words might affect me.

My usual deadpan expression changed, flustered by her sudden confession. My cheeks heated up.

"W-what?" I cursed myself for stuttering.

"...as a friend." She smiled meekly.

A wave of relief washed over me. "I have friends. I don't need you as an addition." She pouted and mumbled something like "Grumpypants," but I continued walking, ignoring her completely. Yet, she followed behind me.

She never stopped pestering me like the pest she was. Brushing her off and giving her the cold shoulder didn't work. Even hiding whenever I spotted her near me was futile. It was as if she had a sixth sense or an antenna that signaled her whenever I was close by. She always, always found me.

Eventually, I gave up and let her be. I didn't have the energy to keep sending her away, and nothing seemed to work. I could only hope she would get bored and leave me alone.