Otaku Chase Otaku, Catch Me If You Otaku

I once again became a zombie as I trudged to school the next day. My eyes refused to stay open. Like always, I'd spent the previous night binging episodes of Battle Blaze Chiaroscuro. The new arc had lots of scenes where the characters just sat around talking, which was a little frustrating, but still made for entertaining political drama.

In class, while the professor droned through his lecture, I let my mind wander and reflect on the previous evening, the moment I found that letter in my bag and began reading. From the little I'd pieced together about her personality, pastel girl, or Rina Kimura, might be an otaku just like me. She seemed shy, introverted, and given the stickers plastered on her stuff, probably a fan of the Munchiroll series Battle Blaze.

But unlike me, she actually found the nerve to confess to the guy she liked. And here I was, lurking in the shadows at the very back of the class, twelve rows behind Sakura Jima, the angel at the front. I had no clue when I'd find the guts to even talk to her, let alone ask her out. If Rina was someone like me, then how'd she do it? How'd she find that kind of courage?

During lunch break, I slipped out of class and slinked through the hallways, dodging any and all social contacts as I made my way to the first-year wing.

The place was quiet when I got there. Which made sense. It was recess, after all. Why waste that time cooped up in a room when you could be outside having fun with friends?

I peered through the open front door. Empty desks, chairs, and half-open backpacks greeted me. The place was deserted. Not a single soul in sight.

Huh. Maybe her brand of introversion wasn't the kind that kept her indoors, unlike yours truly. Guess I'll check back later.

I pulled my head back from peeking into the classroom, turned, and started heading out.

Crunch.

My ears perked up at the sound of chewing, yanking me to a halt. What the...? I stopped and spun around. But wasn't the place empty?

Crunch. Crunch.

Apparently not.

The noisy munching of snacks drifted out of the classroom next door, even though nobody was inside. I didn't rule out any supernatural shenanigans until I actually stepped into the room.

Crunch, crunch. Crunch crunch crunch. Slurp.

The snacking came from behind the teacher's desk. Specifically, from underneath it.

I rounded the corner and bent down to investigate. I was met with a pretty odd sight.

A girl sat curled beneath the desk, knees drawn to her chest, a half-eaten bag of chips balanced on her thigh. Pastel blue hair. Glasses. Stickers on her backpack, which she'd shoved beside her like a shield.

She also held a juice box in one hand.

Rina Kimura?

Seeing me, she froze mid-chew, eyes wide. A chip crumbled from her lips and tumbled onto her lap.

We stared at each other. Neither of us moved. For a heartbeat, the only sound was the distant echo of laughter from outside, people having fun in the sun. Normal people. Not hermit crabs like us.

I tried calling her name to break the awkward silence.

"Kimura?"

"Eek!"

She jerked backward so fast her skull connected with the underside of the desk.

"Oh no, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Ow," she cried softly, rubbing the back of her head.

"I was looking for you. I just wanted to give you back your..."

She was already crawling out the other side, chips scattering across the floor in her panic, juice box tossed aside and forgotten.

"No, wait. Please!"

Her backpack snagged on the chair leg as she scrambled to escape. She yanked it free as she stood.

"I'm sorry!" she blurted as she threw on the backpack in a hurry. "I'm sorry, I'm s-s-sorry, I'm s-s-sorry."

And then she was gone. Bolted through the doorway, footsteps echoing down the hall.

I stood there, alone, confused.

I just wanted to talk.

***

The following day, Thursday, I returned to her class during lunch break. No luck. The room was empty. I even checked under the teacher's desk. Nothing.

What was I even thinking? Of course she wouldn't use the same hiding spot twice. Not after I'd found her there the first time.

I wandered the first-year hallway for a while, peeking into classrooms like some kind of weirdo creepo stalker. A few students and teachers strolling by gave me strange looks, but I kept moving. I may not have looked the part, but I knew I was completely innocent. Definitely not whatever they must have been imagining.

I scanned every room I passed. Nothing.

I gave up and headed upstairs to my floor. Maybe I came off too strong, and now she was avoiding me. Which, as a fellow introvert, I totally understood.

People could be draining, and I'd rather be on my own most of the time. Correction, all of the time. It probably wasn't great for my mental health in the long run, as humans are social creatures by nature. Brains wired for constant interaction and all that. But I guess ours came with that feature disabled.

However, what I didn't get was why she kept apologizing to me every time we met. It wasn't like she'd offended me. If anything, I'd offended her when I breached her privacy and read her letter. So I should be doing the apologizing, not her.

As I rounded the corner to the second-year section, I suddenly stopped in my tracks, my breath catching in my throat.

I couldn't believe it.

There she was.

The girl I had been hunting for.

Rina Kimura stood halfway down the hall, peeking through the window of Classroom 2-C. She was on her tiptoes, squinting, searching for something. For someone.

Was she looking for me?

She moved to the next classroom, 2D, and repeated the motion. Tiptoes, squinting, scanning.

I opened my mouth to call her name as softly as I could, so as not to frighten her like I did the previous day.

"Kimura?"

Apparently, I wasn't soft enough.

She instantly jumped at the sound of my voice, her body tensed, ready to flee.

I shot my hand out pleadingly. "Please don't run. I just want to give you this."

The girl stopped in her tracks, already poised to bolt. For a moment, she just stood there, trembling.

Slowly, she turned, and our eyes met. She recognized what I was holding. Just like I thought, she had been looking for me. She was here to get it back.

It took a few moments of awkward silence, but eventually she began moving toward me, legs shaking with every step. I kept my arm stretched out, holding the letter, waiting.

She was so nervous her entire body vibrated in response. Yet she kept coming. This close, I could once again make out the Chiaro stickers on her shoes. The battle angel logo, rendered in blue and silver. They were so cool.

I could see her legs wobbling like she might collapse at any moment. Her fingers twitched at her sides. When she finally reached me, she no longer looked at my face. Her gaze stayed fixed on the letter in my hand.

She reached out, her whole body quivering.

"Here," I said softly as I handed it over. "I'm sorry for taking it. I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

Her fingers closed around the paper and she proceeded to clutch it delicately to her chest.

"D-d-did you read it?" she asked, refusing to meet my gaze and instead staring down at her shoes. Her voice was high-pitched but soft. Not the annoying kind of high. The sweet kind. Like that anime girlfriend archetype who's not exactly book smart but has a heart of gold and a voice that could melt butter.

I gave a gentle nod in reply to her question, admitting that I did in fact read the letter.

"But I swear I wasn't trying to be creepy or anything... Like I said, it was all an acciden..."

Before I could even finish explaining myself, the girl flinched back in horror, turned, and bolted.

My hand shot out again, reaching for her but grasping empty air.

"No, please! I just want to know how you did it! I'm not trying to make fun of you, I swear! I..."

She was already gone.

My arm hung there for a moment, useless, before I let it drop to my side.

"I just wanted to know how you found the courage to confess to your crush." I muttered. "That's all."

***

When Friday rolled around, I decided to switch tactics. I wasn't about to give up just yet. Sakura Jima was still single, but who knew how long that would last. I needed to learn the courage of confession from Rina as soon as possible so I could make my move.

I arrived at school and scanned the crowd for my target. I spotted her reading a manga by herself on one of the outside benches. Of course, the moment she saw me, she took off running. But like I said, I wasn't about to give up just yet.

I chased after her into the campus.

"Wait, I just want to talk to you!"

"S-s-stop following me, creep!"

What did she just call me?

"Who is that?"

"Why is he chasing after that girl?"

"Who even is she?"

"Oh my god, is he bothering her?"

The murmurs followed us as we ran. This was beginning to draw unwanted attention.

"I'm not a creep! I swear."

"Then why are you chasing me?!"

Was she really not hearing anything I'd been saying?

"I just want to talk to you!"

"Stop following me!"

She eventually found sanctuary in the girls' bathroom, where I could not proceed any further. A few students lingering nearby watched me stop short of the door, exchanged looks, and whispered among themselves. I pretended not to notice and walked away.

During lunch break, when I spotted her eating alone, I tried approaching again. But as you might have guessed, she ran off once more. This time I didn't pursue. I just went back to class.

When school finally ended for the day, I was just about ready to give up on my newfound mission. I quickly realized that chasing a girl like that around campus, even with pure intentions, probably didn't look good from an outside perspective.

Nope, it definitely didn't look good from any perspective. That behavior quickly veered into stalker territory, which I wholeheartedly opposed.

I sighed, rubbing my face with my hands. I was such an idiot. I made her so uncomfortable. I'd have to apologize the next time I saw her. Or, better yet, since seeing her physically was practically impossible, maybe I could write her a letter of my own. An apology letter.

At 4:30, most students had either gone home or headed to club meetings. I headed up to the roof, where I knew it would be deserted, so I could focus on writing the letter.

Maybe when I'm done writing, I could hand it over to one of her classmates or something. I could also ask around for her desk and leave it for her personally.

Halfway through my journey up the steps, sounds from outside filtered through the stairwell windows. The distant shouting and whistles of the soccer team practicing on the field below. I couldn't see them from here, but I felt almost certain he would be there with them. Captain Narumi, the man of the hour. The ladies' man. The whatever word meant most popular guy in school, especially with the girls.

The door to the roof loomed ahead, afternoon light visible through the corners and bottom edges.

I pushed it open as soon as I arrived.

The open air hit me first, the fresh smell of ginkgo leaves carried by the wind. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The isolation. The near silence. This was perfect.

But when I reopened my eyes and fully stepped onto the roof, I caught sight of something.

A splash of color.

Pastel blue hair.

Glasses.

What the...?

Rina?

What was she doing here?

She stood at the edge of the roof, leaning against the railing, looking down at the field below.

Ah, I saw what was happening now. Realization hit me like a meteor. She was watching the soccer team practice. Watching him, no doubt.

I knew I should leave her alone. She deserved that much. But I couldn't shake the thought that this might be my only chance to talk to her without her running.

Should I do it? Should I approach her?

She must have sensed someone behind her, because she turned soon after.

Our eyes met.

For one second, neither of us moved. I saw her face cycle through the now-familiar stages: recognition, panic, terror, all within the span of that frozen second.

Then she acted.

She lunged for the door.

Before I could react, before I could step forward or speak or even breathe, her hands hit the metal, both palms flat against it.

Then she pushed.

Hard.

The door swung closed, slamming right into my face, knocking me off balance.

I stumbled backward, arms flailing, feet finding nothing but air as I tumbled down the short flight of stairs.

By the time I reached the bottom, stars floated around my vision. I hurt so much I doubted I could even speak.

Above me, the door stood firmly closed. A click echoed through the stairwell.

She'd locked it.

Well, at least I finally had her in one place. Maybe talking to her with the door between us would make things a lot simpler. Worth a shot. But for now, I needed a second to catch my breath.

Falling down a flight of stairs, even if it was a short one, really knocks the wind out of you.