Counter-Staining is Effective…Sometimes.

“Ishikawa-san, what’re you doing after school?”

“Oh, uhh… probably checking the club showcase.” I stammered. “Why, what’s up?”

A classmate of mine, someone I'd never talked to before now, suddenly approached me. He wasn’t badly built, and his light brown hair fit his personality.

“You should join the volleyball club!” He seemed extremely enthusiastic about it. I understood where he was coming from, though.

The ‘Ishikawa-san’ people see now is nowhere near the same one that went to middle school. I got taller, and somehow my hair got brighter. I haven’t changed at all internally, because I still like the same things at the end of the day.

I became unrecognizable, but still acted the same.

They want the ‘Ishikawa’ that they see, not the one that’s here, and I understand that. I don’t like it… but…

“Uh.. I’ll consider it!”

A part of me was just happy to be wanted.

He walked away with a strangely hollow smile strewn across his face, but it wasn’t really my place to judge someone’s smile on a little interaction like that. So, I continued to pack my bag.

Pulling out my phone, the notes app was already open. I must’ve forgot to close it.

Clubs to look at:

Basketball Club.

Debate Team.

Student Council.

Broadcast Club.

…

I scrolled all the way to the bottom, and finished typing.

Volleyball Club.

Deep breaths, Kohei. Deep breaths. You gotta prepare for these battles!

I felt like I just… existed. Feeling the stares of strangers in the hallway, and attention of my classmates, even if it wasn’t even there.

It felt like pressure, pushing down on me.

I know I agreed to see the clubs, but to be honest…

I just don’t know what to do now.

Click. Click. Click.

The door in front of me had a handwritten sign, and a message written in black marker.

Basketball Club Room.

I swallowed nervously, then opened the door. The entire team, including the one who asked me to be there, were scattered around the room, but all seemed to gather when I entered. Part of me hoped they weren’t even here when I opened the door, but I couldn’t think like that anymore. Not after seeing the surprise and hope in their eyes.

Their presentation and pitch lasted around ten minutes, and I waited through the whole thing, even though I knew I was going to softly decline at the end. Knowing the effort they put in, regardless if it was for me or not, made me feel like it was.

They all waved at me as I left, and I pushed out a fake smile and wave. I slid the door closed, and immediately dropped to a tired, blank face.

It’s hard to say no, especially when they come at me in good faith.

Opening my notes app again, I deleted the Basketball club off the list. Next up was the debate team.

Then the student council.

Then the broadcast club.

Then the badminton team.

After each interaction, even if they all went the same as the basketball club’s, I could feel myself getting more and more exhausted. Slowly and tiringly, I managed to visit every club that asked.

“We hope to see you again!” One of the managers from the volleyball team called to me, just as I was leaving their club room. Another fake smile, and half-hearted wave.

“I’ll see what works out!”

SLIDE.

Click.

That was the last club on my list. I let out an exhausted exhale, and rubbed my eyes to keep them focused.

None of them really knew me, just what I look like. That’s not their fault, though. I haven’t given them the chance to. I’m not sure if I will, but I can’t really decide on any single club.

The hallway was half-cluttered with sparkling club signs and glittery decorations. The signs felt like they were competing for attention, but I barely had any energy left in me.

A group of girls walked by me just then, and I accidentally made eye contact with them. The glimmer in their eyes at the last moment meant they definitely wanted to talk to me. I don’t think I can deal with them right now, though. Not today, at least.

They blushed at the smile I gave out of courtesy, which seemed weird to me. I think she might’ve taken that a bit to heart.

I kept walking, but I heard their footsteps stop and a whisper-conversation beginning. Not good.

I decided now was the best time, and hot-footed it through the closest door, I just hoped they wouldn’t find me.

“Where’d he go?” Their voices muffled by the closed door.

“He was just there!” another one said.

That was close, I think I would’ve shut down if–

I looked around the room I found myself hiding in.

It was a club room. Four people were there, which was pretty small, but…nevermind! I bowed just quickly after realizing.

“Sorry for intruding! I didn’t see the sign outside, so I–”

“It’s okay man, no big deal.” A taller, bleached buzz-cut man walked toward me. He had the club sign in his arms, so I guess that means I was in the right… Now’s not the time for rights and wrongs.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to catch my bearings, but as I did I scanned the room. The four people were pretty different, at least, different from what I'd expect from a literature club.

First, there was the dude with the bleached hair and buzz cut. He seemed nice, but a bit intimidating. Then, there was a stern, sophisticated looking girl with a nice pair of glasses on, the same purple color as her hair. Next, a blonde girl, sitting a bit off to the side reading a shiny book. Last… there was him. A gloomy-looking loner, positioned in the very centre of the room. He seemed familiar, almost like what I used to be like.

“What kind of club is this?” I asked, out of pure confusion.

The blonde-buzzed man smiled, then patted me on the back.

“This is the literature club, dear first year!”

How did he…? Oh, wait. The pin on my collar.

Something about this club felt different. There wasn’t any pressure, or awkward pauses filled with assumptions or pretense. Just a weird sense of sanctity.

“You look fresh out of gas.” The blonde-buzzed man continued. “Let me get ya something for that.”

He must be the club advisor… I didn’t know teachers could have hair like that!

“By the way… I’m Daichi Yamamoto, the club’s president!”

Man, I was so close. I glanced at the purple-haired girl at the desk, whose face was completely unimpressed. She laughed.

“He’s the president on paper only. Most of the work lands on me.” She added.

Yamamoto-san left the room in a hurry after introducing himself. Things were happening pretty fast.

“I’m Airi Nishimura, the vice president.” She said happily as she extended a hand toward me.

I shook it, and decided I should probably introduce myself.

“I’m a first year, Kohei Ishikawa. Nice to meet you!”

“Oh, that explains a lot.” The blonde girl chimed in, getting closer. She kept her distance, though.

“It happened to me too, they really like going after new people.” she smiled.

I returned a smile, a real one this time. It was effortless.

“It’s my first year here too. I just transferred this year.”

The blond girl extended her hand out, and I shook it.

“Tsumiki Hayashi, class 2-F.”

Neither of the girls asked me anything more about what club I was in, or what my interests were. They seemed different from the other clubs I’d met today. I can’t explain it.

Through all this noise, not a single word came from the dark-haired boy in the middle. I half-expected him to, and was already trying to craft my response.

Then, he looked up from his book, right into my eyes. I jumped back in shock, but it was mostly from the complete lack of interest he had shown on his face.

“If you’re here just to hide, you’re probably safe to leave now.”

I froze.

This guy doesn’t really mince his words. Wow.

Nishimura-san walked to him, and chopped the back of his head.

“Excuse his indiscretion. He’s like this with everyone.” She apologized on his behalf.

Somehow, that explanation doesn’t make it less surprising.

*

Kohei Ishikawa… First year…

Yeah, he looks a bit lost. Something’s definitely up with him, but I can’t tell what. Usually, people are less stiff than this, but he’s pretty similar to her.

Not much to notice. Not to me, at least. So I continued reading my book, without really acknowledging him.

I could feel his eyes lingering on me, long after I decided to ignore him. Did he want something from me? What could he possibly want from me?

“Aren’t you going to introduce yourself?” He asked, his eyes piercing through me. My spine shivered, but I also ignored that too.

At least, I tried.

“Kurosawa. Class 2-C.” I replied plainly, without looking away from my book. His hand slowly stretched closer to me, coming into my peripheral vision. It was about time I actually looked up, wasn’t it?

His face was practically glowing, and the large smile from cheek to cheek wasn’t something I was expecting.

“Nice to meet you, Kurosawa-senpai.” He held his hand out, still. My eyes brushed over it for a moment, but I didn’t think a handshake was really needed.

He didn’t move his hand, probably out of shock, and the room went quiet.

SLIDE.

“I didn’t know what everyone liked, so I got a bunch of everything!” Yamamoto-senpai burst through the door, his arms stacked to the brim with all sorts of different colors and sizes of cans. Some of the cans were vibrant enough to pull their own attention, others resigned themselves to a muted background. But all of them dripped with condensation, soaking into his sleeves.

He went around handing cans to everyone in a really precise way, like each drink was for a specific person. Nishimura-senpai got a bright yellow can of lemon soda, Hayashi-san got a light-pink can, probably a peach-flavored tea if I had to guess, and Ishikawa-san was handed a large bottle of green tea.

When it was my turn to get a drink, I could see him actually think for once. Scanning each of the cans in his arms, which he completely over-estimated the number on, to find which one he’d want to give me. It was like he was trying to prove he knew me, by not asking what I wanted.

“This one!”

He lobbed a small can at me, and I somehow caught it. Black coffee, the same one I’d find myself drinking every now and again.

He said he didn’t know, but… it looks like everyone got what they wanted. Somehow.

I cracked the can open, but didn’t drink it just yet. Something was nagging at me, like I forgot to do something. My eyes lingered on the can as I tried to think, but I just couldn’t figure it out.

What was it that I was missing?

Everyone else already started drinking, so I decided to drop the thought. Even Yamamoto-senpai had already cracked his bottle of ramune and started to chug.

When I pressed the can to my lips, I was hoping for the flavor to change by some miracle. But this first sip was the same as it always was. Bitter. Before I knew it, the can was empty.

I looked around the room, and at everyone inside.

“Next time, get a bag.” Nishimura-senpai softly scolded, but he smiled regardless.

Her hand swooped down to his sleeve, and lightly gripped the wet section as she sipped on her soda, which Yamamoto-senpai didn’t seem to mind. I almost forgot they’re in a relationship, so that makes sense.

…

“So, Ishikawa, what club did you end up joining this year?” Yamamoto-senpai asked, reviving the long-dead conversation.

“Call me Kohei, please.” Ishikawa-san replied. “And as of now, none.”

He nervously chuckled, and took a long sip of his green tea. Yamamoto-senpai is intimidating, after all.

“Well until you decide, you’re more than welcome to stay here.”

Yamamoto lightly patted Ishikawa-san on the back, and Ishikawa-san’s eyes dropped to the floor quickly after. Did he kill him?

Then he exhaled, like he was getting rid of the entire day’s stress with it.

“I saw so many clubs today. After a while, they all started to blend together.”

I don’t know why, but I started to look after I heard this. Like, truly look up, and at Ishikawa-san. Then I saw his expression. I was confused.

Why would you make that face? Everyone wants you in their club.

“The thing is, none of them felt like somewhere I could go.” He added, still looking down.

I wanted someone to interrupt. Anyone. I didn’t need a backstory.

But nobody did.

“I liked books in middle school, not any of the sports. I don’t really look the same as I did last year, and because of that people think I’m suddenly someone else. They gave me attention, tons of it. More than I knew what to do with.”

I tried looking back at my book, and tune out the moment. But the moment wasn’t done with me yet.

“I don’t really know where to go from here.”

Who says this in front of strangers? People you meet an hour ago aren’t–

“Nobody does. Not really.” Yamamoto cut in, interrupting my thought. “Where’s the fun in knowing? The fun’s in making it up as you go.”

That’s not true, at all. Knowing what to do in every single scenario lets you make the best moves.

The others started making conversation with Ishikawa-san, but this time I could focus back on my book completely, and ignore whatever they were talking about.

…

After about twenty minutes of conversation, a voice came from the PA system.

“Attention all students and club members; the club showcase has now concluded. Please finish any remaining duties and exit accordingly.”

Yamamoto-senpai stretched in his chair, and let out a long yawn.

“Thank you, Yamamoto-senpai, Nishimura-senpai, Hayashi-senpai.” He bowed respectfully to all of them. They didn’t do anything worth–

“You too, Kurosawa-senpai.”

He threw his empty bottle out as he left.

“Hopefully we helped you figure out some stuff today!” Yamamoto-senpai yelled, hoping he could hear it as he left. Hayashi-san and Nishimura-senpai nodded with a smile. They must’ve felt the same way.

I just stayed where I was, and continued reading. They all started to clean up the room, so I started on my section too.

Ishikawa-san suddenly re-appeared in the doorway. I thought he’d be long gone by now.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

Nobody else seemed to notice him coming back in, much less talking. What’s he doing here, anyway?

“Here.”

He handed me a folded piece of paper, so I unfolded it.

Club Application Form:

Kohei Ishikawa - Literature Club

Written in firm, confident streaks of black ink, without a moment of reconsideration.

“Why’d you hand this to me?” I asked, confused.

The answer was shockingly simple.

“Because you’re in the club?” He questioned, like I made less sense than he did.

BZZT. BZZT.

“OH CRAP MY MOM’S GONNA KILL ME!”

Ishikawa-san bolted out again, this time much faster. He must’ve moved fast, because, for some reason… I didn’t move.

I stayed staring at the application form. His name was there, and so was the club’s. An unfamiliar sensation seeped into my head. One I wasn’t sure I’d felt before.

Everyone else was still cleaning, minding their own business. Each of them lived their own lives, completely different, but still found themselves here.

I didn’t scowl, or mock them like I normally do.

I just observed.

Just then, I felt it.

The smallest, faintest hint of something growing across my face, pulling the corner of my lips higher.

But I couldn’t be sure.