Take 2 - Like some smoke that I try too hard to hold

If going to classes felt pointless before, now it was that feeling cranked up to the ninth power, so I decided to slip away to the school’s rooftop. For some reason, everyone thought the door was locked—don’t know who came up with that one. Probably some teacher to keep people like me from sneaking up there.

I wanted to stop thinking.
I needed a bit of time to process things. Lately, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, like my face had an expiration date stamped on it.

This year’s summer was one of the worst I could remember—way too hot. The only spot that kept me from frying like an ant under a magnifying glass was the shade cast by the wall near the entrance.

I lit a cigarette. I hadn’t planned on smoking; it started because I thought it made me look cool, and before I knew it, it was a habit.

“Haruka?” I heard, after the awful screech of the door. “What are you doing here?”

“Iori? What are you doing here? You never skip class.”

“Neither do you.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never cared about them... You, on the other hand, seem to need a constant update on everything,” I said, pointing at the notebook she carried everywhere. “At least close the door. The last thing I need is a teacher coming up here.”

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t know, a few months, I guess. Why do you keep dodging my question?”

“I’m not dodging it,” she replied, leaning against the rooftop railing and pulling out her phone. “I just came to take some photos.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, smoke slipping out with my words. “Well, do your thing and pretend I’m not here.”

At first, I couldn’t figure out what she was trying to capture.
She waved her phone around like one of those TV magicians about to pull off a big trick, then stared at the screen, muttered something, and tried again.
It took me a minute to piece it together.

“It’s not gonna work…” I said, still lying down, pulling the cigarette from my lips. “The original was taken in spring. The cherry blossoms are almost gone now.”

“Huh? W-What are you talking about?” she asked, spinning around like someone had pointed a gun at her.

“The spot you’re standing in, the angle you’re trying—you’re attempting to copy Agami’s photo, aren’t you?”

“I… no…” she stammered, flipping through her notebook. “Okay, yes…”

“See, you could’ve just said so. It’s not gonna work. It’s the wrong season, your angle’s slightly off, and above all, you’re using a damn phone…” I finished with a small laugh.

“Lend me your camera.”

“Don’t have one.”

“But you’re in the photography club.”

“Still don’t have one.”

“Then how do you take photos?” she asked, stepping closer—kind of nice, since her shadow blocked the sun from hitting my legs.

“I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Come on, please,” I said, exhaling smoke. “Can’t you live without interrogating people?” I sat up, trying to fix my hair.

“It’s just curiosity…” she said, grabbing a pencil with her notebook open.

No, it clearly wasn’t just curiosity. It didn’t feel like an interrogation—it was one.

“Agami’s better than me, so I just let him do his thing.”

“So that’s why the exhibition only has his photos…” she murmured.

“Hey, no. It’s because I didn’t submit any. And it’s just the two of us in the club.”

“Sorry for bruising your ego.”

“Sorry for witnessing an amateur with a phone,” I shot back, squinting. “Why do you want to copy his photo?”

“Um… I thought maybe… you know…”

“No, if I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”

“Come on… you know, maybe if I showed him I could capture the same thing he did…”

“What? You’d talk? Become friends? You’re overcomplicating it.”

She just nodded.

“Ugh… why not just go talk to him?”

“WHAT? Are you crazy?”

“Ha… you could say that…” I replied, lying back down.

“Just go, throw him a couple of compliments, and you’re set. He’s a good guy.”

“If it were that easy…”

“It is that easy.”

“No, there’s a million things to consider. What do I say? What tone should I use? Should I wait for him after class?”

I lost track of how many questions she was rattling off out loud while scribbling who-knows-what in her notebook.
Truth is, as annoying as this was—and it wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time—it kept me from being alone with my thoughts.

“How long have you known him?”

“Since kindergarten… or maybe before. I don’t even remember anymore. Feels like I’ve been stuck with him my whole life, like a sticker you can’t peel off.” A laugh slipped out at the end. “He’s my best friend.”

[And I feel like I’m hiding too much from him.]

Honestly, I can’t recall a single moment of my life where he wasn’t involved. All the things—the good, the bad—he was always there. That obsessively optimistic way he sees things has lifted the weight off my shoulders more times than I can count.
Maybe talking to him could ease this mess of feelings, but honestly, I’m also scared it’d be too much for him.

“Hey, Haruka!” she said, snapping her fingers. There she was, the magician, pulling me back to reality.

“What?”

“I asked for the form.”

“What form?”

“The photography club one. It’s, objectively speaking, the best way to get closer to him.”

“Not a chance.”

“Why n—”

“You know what?” I cut her off. “You’re right. Come to the club after class, and we’ll fill out that form. Though you could just show up— it’s just Agami and me. Formalities are pointless.”

“So?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll see you after class…”

Whatever this was, it was already in motion. And while I didn’t care much for love drama, it was still a decent distraction.

I decided to head to the club early, mid-day. If I was getting roped into this weird plan, I might as well give Agami a heads-up.

The club was never popular, nor did we want it to be. It was just the place where he and I spent most of our time. We didn’t need anyone else, and I can say with certainty: we didn’t want anyone else. But nothing stays the same forever, and that applies here too.

“Heyy” I said, practically spin-kicking the clubroom door open.

Agami was reading a magazine and barely glanced up at me.

“Why so quiet? Oh, want one?” I asked, tossing the cigarette pack at him, watching it bounce off his head.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he asked, setting the magazine aside.

“Come on, it was a joke.”

“Don’t play dumb, Haruka.” His tone was dead serious. “How many days has it been?” he asked, glancing between his phone screen and me, his eyes darting back and forth. “You don’t answer my texts, you haven’t shown up to the club in what, a week?”

“Less…”

“Hey, I said don’t play dumb.”

“Ugh… it’s just been some weird days, that’s all. No idea why you’re making a big deal out of it…” I said, brushing past him and sitting on the desk. “Got a night job, and it’s messing with my mornings… that’s it.”

“We live in the same building.”

“I just get out really late.”

“You know I’m up before dawn, Haruka.”

“Wow… you’re sounding way too possessive, Agami…” I said, laughing before continuing. “Seriously, I’m sorry. It’s just been a weird few days, don’t worry…”

“...You’re making it hard not to.”

“Alright, alright...” I said, ruffling his hair. “Lose the grumpy face, I’ve got news…”

I wanted to tell him everything. Yeah, I know I said it’d be a hassle having him worry about me all the time, but keeping this from him felt like a betrayal.
On the other hand… if he was this worked up over a few days of me not replying, I couldn’t imagine what’d happen if I told him everything.
I’m sorry.

“You know… the truth is—” For better or worse, a knock at the door cut me off.

“What?”

“...That you should probably open the door.” I said, pointing. You could clearly see Iori on the other side, practically spinning in circles.