Chapter 21: Rabbit Company
Until that night, Kiyoshi had been completely dedicated to his goal: get the manuals and return to the soccer world to become a pro. He was bratty elitist and wanted to be the best of the best--but when the president awakened the hidden truth out of him, the tower of beliefs began to crumble.
He recalled had doubted himself like this when he was little while playing with Keima. How nice would it be to have an average life, go out with dear friends, and have a lover. He had turned his back to that feeling because he believed it would be impossible. People had solid preconceptions of him by his striking appearance, and surely the terrible things he had done would come to light one day to confirm those prejudiced ideas. Akasaka's personal interview was an unpleasant reminder of how girls typically saw him--a fancy toy, an exotic relic--and similarly, other people. The emotional scars in his sore heart were meaningless in their eyes. Kiyoshi believed that even if he wanted to be happy, it couldn't be granted. Playing soccer was a compromise.
Turning back to that grand dream was strange. He didn't know if it was the right choice. He promised Shino-san to try though and didn't want to lie. Just. . . was it alright to give up this easily?
Sighing, he jumped off the bed to flick off the lights and curled back on the mattress. Hugging the bunny plushie Keima gifted him years ago, he hoped he had made a choice when the time limit came.
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Kiyoshi plopped his head on the desk as soon as the test ended. Of all the subjects, Japanese was the hardest one. Classic literature had so many intricacies and subtleties and nothing was clear cut. Analyzing passages in old Japanese was brain-wrecking. Everything related to communication was hard.
He sighed deeply and gathered a deep breath before tilting his head upward. That uneasy feeling settled in his stomach when he realized there was one class left before lunch break. And today was Saturday, no second chances.
What he ought to do first was to look around his classmates, he figured and see whom he should approach. Doing a swift survey, Kiyoshi found so little. They were only commenting about the test. The only ones Kiyoshi was aware were on a sports team--the thing he had the most in common with others--were two of the Mukata triplets in the far front. Maybe it wasn't the best time after all. . .
Did this even need much thought? Kiyoshi huffed. It had been years since he tried making friends. More of Shino-san's well-intentioned advice would be too old for this specific case. Regardless, Kiyoshi continued to faithfully observe and listen in on his classmates' conversations. They were so loud. And while he couldn't categorize any group, the lively chatter made his gut slightly fuzzy.
Each passing second of English class was a ticking time bomb. When the bell rang, Kiyoshi's heart jumped. The quiet classroom literally rose to life, kids bumping their chairs and calling their friends on the other side of the room. It was like a detailed painting, each person doing a completely different thing. Though Kiyoshi could follow the flow, the chaotic mass of people made him fearful.
Still unsure of his final objective--or victim--Kiyoshi grabbed the bentou from his desk. If there were any gamers, he hadn't found them, so the next best choice was the safe one. Nice people. And a group fit his image: four average-looking boys who had finished pushing together some desks.
Kiyoshi stood up and began walking. But it wouldn't have been his life if something hadn't happened. A reckless boy suddenly stood up and bumped against Kiyoshi's arm, making him squeeze out a high-pitched squeak. Covering his mouth, he looked away as the boy merely threw an insincere apology and left.
Hearing a few mocking chuckles, Kiyoshi covered his face and sighed. Now overconscious, he knew he couldn't keep a straight face if he were to talk to someone. But if he was screwed then to hell with it. Taking a deep breath, he marched towards the promising group of boys, smoothly curving to the sliding door at the last moment.
Kiyoshi knocked his head against the wall and cursed. "Why do I have to be like this?" he reproached. "Idiot." Stuttering was inevitable in this state--he felt it somewhere deep inside his being. Bumping his stupid head a couple more times, he also brought his fists against the wall as if throwing the quietest tantrum. He was aware how childish he was and how dumb he probably looked but his cognitive perception was too distant to care. Fuck it, he was more pissed at himself than anything.
Pacing around and mentally yelling for his surrogate-dad-Shino-san, Kiyoshi decided to take his lunch elsewhere and shamefully return for recess when they finished eating.
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How I do approach people my age? Kiyoshi thought as he was back to laying on the desk. The thought of walking to a class group and talk made him nervous and his legs just didn't move. This conscious effort to talk was so sudden.
The casual chatter in the classroom didn't irritate him anymore. Instead, he yearned to be closely surrounded by it to the point he could feel it in his heart, not a tease across his skin.
I'll beg for Kumoto-san to give me another day to try. If I can't change, then I will continue with the mission. And so, the bell rang. Kiyoshi stared up, the radiant rays that lit the classroom flooding his eyes.
This time, Kiyoshi walked out of the classroom with the go-home club. It was surreal, going straight home this early. It was only a few weeks ago where this was his life and yet it felt like a grim, vague dream. A ghastly dream he might go back to if he rejects the deal. Do I want that? he asked himself as he stared at the back of the boys in front of him.
"See you on Monday, Ryuugamine-kun!" Kiyoshi snapped his head towards the voice, one of the boys of the group lifting his hand and grinning straight at him. Kiyoshi quickly replied, unsure if the boy heard as he turned around. Kiyoshi brought his gaze back to the front, easing the unconscious tug on his lips and flinched at the rest of the group who stared back suspiciously.
"Weirdo," one said.
"Normies explode," another mutter under his breath.
"Hey, let's go," the third hushed.
Kiyoshi gripped his overstuffed bag and scurried away to the streetwalk gaze glued on the floor. What did he do? He just said bye to that boy. Did they think he was popular? He was just an awkward boy who didn't know how to talk to people. Why does everyone think I'm happy with this face? I hate myself. I hate this face. I didn't ask to be different. I just. . . Tears dripped down his face . . . I just want to be normal.
Rabbit Company | End