A clock

Miori began taking small breaths. A slicker of sweat sailed down Orahashi's forehead.

The boy gripping his hand, smirked at him amusedly.

"Don't sweat it." He lowered his eye brow.

Orahashi didn't mind, his focus on the hands hidden behind Miori's waist. It moved, coming out.

"Sign this." She pushed a paper on his shirt.

"Excursion.."

Orahashi held it to his face. The words were hand written.

"We already discussed this, in our previous meeting." Miori interrupted, curling her hair thread.

"I already rejected this, didn't I?" Orahashi put the paper down, staring a her innocent face.

"Yeah, that's why I made a new one." Miori leaned on a desk, legs tired from standing too long.

"... Did sir agree or not?" After a deep exhale, Orahashi flipped the paper without waiting for her to say anything.

"Yup. His sign— oh, you already flipped it." It was unexpected but not shocking. Miori retracted her finger, tilting at his composed expression.

"It's just one line, just say yes—"

"No. " The boy's grip loosened at his sudden hoarse murmur.

Orahashi shrugged off, after he'd read it a bunch of times.

When he glanced up, Miori was fidgeting with her fingers, murmuring a sweet tone.

"Sigh. Here you go." He stepped closer to her desk, hand lowering to her face.

"Not gonna sign?" Miori murmured without looking.

"No need, since the principal signed it."

In an instant the paper slipped from his fingers. Her eyes drifted up to him. He was averting his gaze.

"Don't you like Excursions?" She asked him, out of concern. "Or its just me.. that you don't like?" A weird softness clung to her words. Orahashi couldn't help but shudder.

"Just go and submit it." He exhaled, putting a tough act. Miori covered a smile unintentionally creeping into her face.

Keta stood faraway beside the window grill. He saw the group dispersing once a conclusion was reached. Some patted his back while he passed through them. But Orahashi didn't look back at them and just continued to walk with a regretful look on his face.

"He seems to know something..." Keta muttered, fingers leaving the cold iron grill.

Keta started walking towards Orahashi's direction.

"He didn't look particularly against the proposal itself but rather— the one who proposed this."

Miori came to his vision. She was surrounded by boys and girls impatient for the formal announcement of this excursion.

"Wait for a day, I'm sure sensei'll upload this in G.C." (G.C. : Google Classroom.)

Shortly after she said that, Keta slid opened the door. His footsteps faded moments later.

Incidently, Miori's gaze fell for a moment on the empty space at the grill.

"Did he go out?" She barely murmured, when her fingers felt empty.

"One minute." Two boys immediately called her, the paper gripped on their hands. Miori's smile momentarily faltered.

"Fine."

—

10:30.

After walking for a while, Keta'd come to a stop.

"A wall clock, outside?" He turned towards the black handed clock with digits written in a odd fashion.

"Ten-thirty.." He spoke aloud the time ticking currently. His breaths matched the shallow ticking of the clock.

Thirty-ten..

"What?" Keta tilted around. His breath broke free of the rhythm, echoing loudly. Left. Right. Up. Down. His gaze hovered everywhere.

Did it mean the time? Keta turned around the clock. It was ticking.

Wait. Isn't this... Slower?

Keta raised his eyes, darting the frozen minute hand.

"Thirty-ten..."

It was clearly Keta this time. His brain was the one responsible for this unusual wording.

Their roles have changed. Keta noticed, the hour hand moved more noticibly. In contrast the minute hand..

"It moves slower or doesn't move at all..."

..behaves like it's counterpart.

If Keta were follow this arrangement, then certainly it'd read: "Thirty-ten" instead of "Ten-thirty"

The gears must have snapped or something. Maybe if I..

Keta stood on his toes, maintaining a near-perfect balance.

TAP. TAP.

He pulled the clock out of the nail and tapped it's back.

TICK... TICK... TICK. TICK.

That's the way you're supposed to behave.

With a tap on the wall, Keta fitted the nail into the back-hole, hanging the clock.

"Hm.." He turned to walk, but paused abruptly.

TICK.. TICK.. TICK..

... That's not a clock anymore, is it?

"An anti-clock. That's what best describes it."

Because it moved in reverse. Keta felt like he was in science fiction but this couldn't be true since a 'anti-clock' didn't adhere science.

"Not my business anymore." He shrugged, the unusual, one in a trillion possible, sight imprinted in his mind.

STEP, STEP, STEP, STEP.

Slowly and gradually, Keta disappeared into the distance, leaving no trace of him being here.

The clock ticked on 'his' own, seeing that Keta was gone.

TICK.. TICK.. TICK..

It reverted back.