Turning Point

Kasumi stood over the Meek girl, fists clenched as her arm held the stall door open. She wasn’t sure what to say, if anything. She’d been so intent on not speaking after her introduction that the thought of doing so now made her jaw clench.
“Um…” the Meek girl said, looking up at Kasumi.
“Shut up!” Kasumi barked, grinding her teeth on the last syllable. The Meek girl flinched and recoiled at the harsh words. She clasped her hands in front of her chest, and only then did Kasumi notice the few beads still in the girl’s grasp.
“That’s it,” Kasumi thought, looking to the beads scattered around her. “If I want her to leave me alone for good, all I need to do is step on these beads. That should be just cruel enough to make her hate me so she never approaches again.” She knew that stepping too far and slipping would make her look like a fool in need of help, likely only emboldening the girl’s approaches. Her eyes scanned for the closest beads. Seeing all of them behind the girl, she fixed instead on the crucifix at her toe. She remembered the girl holding onto some weird symbol attached to the beads, a charm, probably. Kasumi reasoned that stepping on it would have the same effect, and she raised her foot, preparing for a devastating stomp. Breaking the charm might be a bit cruel, but she’d rather go too far than not far enough.
SLAP
“Ahh!” Kasumi cried as her foot landed and her balance vanished. She’d prepared to grind her heel once her foot reached the floor, but it never reached it. Instead, her foot stopped short, the heel she’d meant to grind into the charm pressed into the Meek girl’s palm. Kasumi couldn’t believe her eyes. She was pressing down with her whole body weight, yet the girl’s hand remained as unmoving as the tile beneath them. The mix of shock and unstable footing sent her tumbling backward. She grabbed for the stall walls on either side, palms squeaking in a desperate attempt to stop her fall. Her hands only managed to slow her, and she slumped onto the porcelain throne, more shocked than anything else. She glared down, looking for what had thrown her back.
“Did I misjudge the distance? Or step on something else? Maybe I missed and hit the toilet paper dispenser, or—” But to her shock, the only thing Kasumi saw above the crucifix was the Meek girl’s hand. There was no way the girl’s skinny arms were strong enough to stop her foot, and even send her falling back; there had to be another explanation, something else she wasn’t seeing.
“Sorry,” the Meek girl said, taking the crucifix in hand and standing. “I only meant to catch your foot, not push you back. Are you all right?” She stepped into the stall, right in front of Kasumi.
“Why?” Kasumi whispered, eyes still downcast.
“Huh?” the Meek girl asked.
“Why!” Kasumi yelled, startling her. “If you’re so strong, then why do you let them bully you?” Her eye stayed downcast, unable to see the surprise overflowing across the Meek girl’s face.
“They aren’t bullying me,” the Meek girl said at last. “Sure, they can be a little mean and thoughtless at times, but they’d never—”
“Are you stupid?” Kasumi yelled, losing all control of her voice. “They treat you like a gopher, set you up to get in trouble, and now they’ve broken your… your… whatever that thing is.”
“No, that was just an accident,” the Meek girl insisted. “It’s no good to hold grudges, so since they already apologized, there’s nothing to—”
“So you are stupid!” Kasumi snapped. “I didn’t think fools like you existed, but here you are. So then tell me, queen of fools, how do you keep finding me?”
“Huh?” the Meek girl asked, more surprised by the question than the insults. “What do you mean by ‘finding you’? We’re in the same class, so it’s not like I don’t see you.”
“I’m not talking about in class,” Kasumi said. “The other day, after school, near the bushes, and just now, how did you know I was around?” The Meek girl’s face grew more confused with each word. Her head tilted and her eyes narrowed as if in deep thought.
“What are you talking about? I didn’t know you were here.”
“Don’t bother lying. I’m not a fool like you,” Kasumi shot back. “I know you knew I was there, because why else would you start praying for them?” The Meek girl remained silent for a moment, giving Kasumi time to think. Seeing how slow her progress with words was, she considered using fists but decided against it. If this girl was strong enough to catch and even stop her stomp with ease, then Kasumi was better off sticking to words. A whisper pulled Kasumi from her thoughts, and she looked up at the Meek girl’s lips, which were moving. As she listened carefully, she caught enough to realize the girl was praying again.
“Stop it,” Kasumi demanded, slamming a fist into the stall wall. “There you go again. Why do you keep doing that? What are you trying to get? What do you want from me?” Kasumi huffed, her throat long since gone hoarse from shouting. If she’d been of sound mind, she might have questioned how nobody had heard her and come to investigate, but her mind was anything but sound. Just looking at this girl was enough to flood her with adrenaline, raise her blood pressure, and make her heart pound out of her chest.
“Nothing,” the Meek girl said finally, voice calm as the eye of a storm.
“LIAR!” Kasumi screamed, sending herself into a coughing fit. She’d spoken more in the last few minutes than she had in months; like an underused muscle, her voice was giving out. Her throat closed up, refusing to let air of any sort pass through. She was so wrapped up in her coughing fit that she didn’t even notice the Meek girl dash from the bathroom, nor did she hesitate to grab the milk tea the girl offered upon her return. The cool, creamy drink soothed Kasumi’s throat, finally allowing her to stop coughing.
“Thanks—” She stopped herself mid thought, realizing where the milk tea had come from made her anger return in force. She wanted to scream, but her voice wouldn’t cooperate, so she threw the carton down, sending milk tea splashing toward the ceiling and raining down upon both of them. Or she would have, if the Meek girl hadn’t caught the carton, stopping it just after it left Kasumi’s fingers. Despite the impressive reflexes, the sudden start and stop jostled what remained of the drink, shooting it from the straw and right into the Meek girl’s face.
Kasumi’s heart stopped as the girl’s hand clenched around the carton, squeezing more milk tea onto the floor. Kasumi leaned back, putting as much distance as possible between herself and the Meek girl. Shouts and insults were one thing, but when you hit someone’s face with something, even a liquid, it was only natural for them to respond in kind, accident or not. Kasumi tensed as the Meek girl raised a hand. Kasumi’s eyes tracked every movement as the girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief with gold embroidery. She gently wiped her face, then moved her hand toward Kasumi. Kasumi clenched her eyes shut; she wanted to flee, to defend herself in some way, but resisted the urge. She knew that if the difference in strength were too great, resistance would only prolong her suffering, as her opponent would return every ounce of resistance tenfold.
“I won’t ask you to believe me,” said the Meek girl, voice steady, as if someone else were speaking through her lips. “But I think it’s only fair you give me a chance to prove the truth of my words.” Despite the girl’s calm, almost comforting tone, Kasumi kept her eyes shut. She could only imagine the hatred leaking from the girl’s gaze as she wound up, preparing to land the mother of all haymakers on her cheek as soon as Kasumi relaxed. Kasumi’s voice was still too sore to speak, so she nodded, fearing the reprisal of not answering.
“In that case,” the Meek girl said, extending the handkerchief toward Kasumi’s cheek. She flinched at the slightest touch, pulling away as if the handkerchief were red-hot iron, but remained still on the second touch. The cloth was as soft as the delivering touch. The Meek girl wiped Kasumi’s cheeks of milk tea she hadn’t even noticed. The movements were thorough yet gentle. Kasumi felt her bangs rustle as the girl even wiped the tears forming at the corners of Kasumi’s eyes. Once wiped, Kasumi finally opened her eyes, unable to believe what her skin had felt. She opened her eyes, revealing amber irises that shone like the sun. Her breath caught, overcome by the dazzling blue orbs that met her gaze.
“They’re even more dazzling than Momo-onee’s,” Kasumi thought, as if a spell were overtaking her. The eyes might have been similar, but the hair was all wrong, and Momo-onee’s Western facial features were a stark contrast to the face that embodied all things Japanese.
“Who… are you?” The words escaped her lips before she could stop them. They were only the faintest of whispers, her voice unable to produce anything more, but they still reached the Meek girl all the same.
“I’m Hattori, Momo,” she said, lips curving into a smile just as dazzling as her eyes. “And this Sunday, you’ll be joining me for a little excursion.”