Chapter 24: The Weight of a Glance

This is the real test.

The dojo, that is her world. That is her torture chamber. I am getting used to that.

But the classroom... this is supposed to be the normal world.

And I am sitting next to a demon.

I walk into class 1-B. The usual noise hits me. My friends Taka and Ken are laughing about some video game. The air smells like chalk and floor wax.

Everything is normal.

I look at my desk.

And I look at her desk.

This is the first time I will see her since she utterly destroyed me, both physically and mentally, on Saturday.

She is not here yet.

I slide into my seat, my body groaning in protest. Every muscle I own is screaming. Holding a horse stance for an hour as "punishment" will do that to you.

I drop my bag, pull out a notebook, and just wait.

I am not afraid.

I am not angry.

I am aware.

That is the only word for it. It is like a new sense has been switched on. I can hear the classroom chatter, but I am listening for the hallway.

The bell for class rings.

And, as always, the daily chorus erupts from the school gates.

"AYAKO-SAMA! WE LOVE YOU!"

I almost smirk. You guys have no idea what you are worshipping.

The classroom door slides open.

And she walks in.

She is the goddess.

The perfect, pristine, black-haired goddess. Her uniform is immaculate. Her walk is grace itself.

She nods politely to the teacher, who actually blushes.

She glides down the aisle.

She stops at her desk. Next to me.

She turns.

I brace myself.

"Good morning, Minatawa-kun," she says, her voice the perfect, polite, crystalline tone of the Student Council President.

There is no trace of the demon from the dojo. No ice. No coldness.

It is perfect.

"Good morning, Katsumi-san," I say, and I am proud of how steady my voice is.

She gives me a small, polite nod, and then she sits. She opens her textbook.

And that is it.

It is like nothing happened.

The teacher starts droning on about literature, I think. I cannot focus.

I am hyper-aware of her.

I can smell her soap. I can hear the sound of her pen, a quiet, precise scratch-scratch on the paper. I can feel the presence of her, sitting two feet away.

Before the kidnapping, before the dojo, I was just the problem kid, and she was the statue. After the kidnapping, I was terrified of her. Now?

Now, I am studying her.

I am watching her out of the corner of my eye. I am watching this performance.

She is flawless. She answers questions with perfect, articulate answers. She is polite. She is respectful.

She is a complete and total lie.

And I am the only one in this entire school who knows it.

It is exhilarating.

I am the only one who has seen the predator. I am the only one who has seen the demon.

I am the only one who has seen her shake. I am the one she... my face starts to feel hot.

I force myself to look at my notebook. I cannot let her see me flustered. That is a weakness. She hates weakness.

Lunchtime.

I grab my bread and head to the roof. It is my sanctuary.

I am halfway through my lunch when the door screeches open.

My heart does a stupid, inefficient jump.

It is just Taka and Ken.

"Dude! There you are!" Taka says, grinning. "We thought you got nabbed by another gang or something!"

"Just needed quiet," I mutter, my heart rate settling.

I am... disappointed?

Oh, hell no. I am not disappointed that the yakuza demon did not join me for lunch. That is crazy.

"You have been acting weird, man," Ken says, sitting down. "Like, weirder than usual. You are quiet. And you keep stretching. You joining a cult?"

"Something like that," I mumble.

I look out over the city. I wonder what she is doing. Is she eating her perfect bento with the octopus sausages? Is she alone?

She is always alone.

This thought hits me harder than I expect.

The perfect goddess. The successor to the Bokumuchi-kai.

She has her "subordinates." She has her "security."

But she has no friends.

She is completely, utterly, totally alone.

Except for the "messy variable" she is "house-training."

Except for me.

This thought... it is heavy.

The rest of the day is a blur. I am just watching her.

I am watching her in the hallway. I see a second-year student, a guy from the soccer team, try to talk to her. He is blushing, stammering, trying to ask her out.

I watch Ayako give him the full "goddess" treatment.

A polite, distant smile. "That is very kind of you, Suzuki-san, but I am afraid my duties with the Student Council leave me no time for personal engagements." A perfect, tiny bow. "Please excuse me."

She glides away, leaving him standing there, completely crushed.

And I smirk.

Because I am the only one who knows.

I am the only one who knows that her "polite" voice is a weapon. I am the only one who knows her "duties" are not just school duties. And I am the only one who got her to react.

I am the only one she has ever called an "idiot." I am the one she kissed.

This stupid, proud, warm feeling spreads through my chest.

The final bell rings.

I am packing my bag. She is packing hers. That same, efficient, silent routine.

I cannot help it. I lean over.

"His form was sloppy," I whisper.

She freezes. Her hands stop moving.

"What did you say?" she whispers back, not looking at me.

"Suzuki-san," I say, a grin spreading across my face. "His approach. It was 'predictable.' And 'inefficient'."

She is still. For a full three seconds.

Then she turns her head. Just enough to look at me.

Her eyes are different. They are not the cold dojo eyes. They are not the polite goddess eyes.

They are her eyes. The ones from the rooftop. Sharp, analytical, and...

Amused.

She is amused.

I am holding her gaze. I am not flinching. I am not backing down.

I am the anomaly.

She looks away.

She is the first one to look away.

She snaps her bag shut. "Your observations are irrelevant, Minatawa-kun."

Her voice is stiff.

She stands up and walks away.

But I saw it.

She is flustered.

I lean back in my chair, my heart hammering.

This is a whole new kind of fight.

And I think I am winning.