Rambling Night and the Daybreak Beyond

That night I had trouble falling asleep.

I’m not sure if it was because of the tea or because of my nerves but either way my thoughts were restless and so was the rest of me. Were these good nerves? I think they were good nerves. Nervous nerves. Nonetheless, not negative nerves. Nice nerves. Nice, needling, nighttime nerves. Nerves. Alliteration string.

Neat. Words are fun.

Neatness notwithstanding, the more nuanced niceties of my new nocturnal predicament meant less than the actual physical sensation did. Truth be told, tonight had been both energizing and exhausting in equal measure. Semi-equal, I suppose. Yes, the train station encounter had required some effort in order to keep apace of the back and forth banter but that was more stimulating than strenuous.

No, the real drain was the car ride home.

Answering my mother’s questions had been tiring as always. I don’t know. It’s not like she doesn’t care. It’s not like she doesn’t love me. I know she loves me. I know I love her. And I know that the worry comes from a good place. I just struggle to deal with it. Nothing I say ever seems to be good enough. Reassurance only goes so far. For whatever reason, I can’t make her understand the little burden that is her daughter. She prefers the polite, quiet version anyways. That’s easier to deal with than the awkward chatterbox.

A proper young lady with good grades and better manners, if I could just be that, then surely everyone at school would learn to overlook my appearance. Surely everything would work out. Surely I’m the one who needs to be better, not the people who ostracize others just for—

Sigh.

So yeah, my responses had gotten shorter. Our conversations more clipped; and the distance between us, wider. If you can’t say things the way you want to, it becomes difficult to say anything at all. I take the path of least resistance. Sorry.

Anyway, after weathering my mother’s barrage of inquiries we pulled into the driveway of our small house. I say small, but it was proportionally a bit large for our family of only two people. Since my mom tends to work long hours and I mostly stick to my own room, the place feels bigger and emptier than it actually is. In reality it was nothing too fancy, just a modest house with a decent amount of unoccupied space. But alone in the dark, it could at times feel cavernous.

Once inside I switched to my indoor sandals and shuffled quickly up the stairs into my bedroom. Backpack off. Phone out, then set to charge next to the alarm clock on my nightstand. Carefully, I placed the backpack onto the chair by my desk. It’s a good, nice sized room with not much decoration aside from a few posters and old stuffed animals from childhood. And one or two stuffed animals from slightly more recent times than childhood. Not everything needs a long justification.

I like cute things.

While I might have wanted to flop into bed right away, the prerequisite bedtime readiness routines had to be completed first. Shower, change to pajamas, brush teeth, etc. Hang up the uniform so it’s ready for school tomorrow. One, two, three, more: done, done, done, and done.

Now here I was. Lights off. Covers on. In bed. Trying to get settled.

Trying and failing.

Tossing and turning under my sheets, the events of the night stayed stuck in my head. Well, less so the events, and more so the person tied to them.

Evi.

Our time together had been short but it was, at least from my view, memorable. An affable verbal sparring match accompanied by the acquisition of a phone number from a real life person who likes me. And this person who likes me is also a person that I like. Mutual positive feelings! Wow. Reciprocation. Friendship. All of these were good words, and in my personal opinion their current context had promoted them to being great words. It might be a little sad how giddy that made me feel, but I didn’t care. Or at least, I pretended that I didn’t.

Still, the more unnatural elements of our meeting scraped against the edges of my brain. Yes, more unnatural than me making a friend. Haha. Rude. Not just any friend, but one who’s nice and accepting, and actually seems to like me for me. Also, she’s like, really pretty. Oh yes, and she has horns. Right, yeah, that part is also notable. But she’s so nice though, really, is the thing.

And yeah, there was the strange possible time shenaniganery that had happened on the train, but she didn’t know what I was talking about when I asked her if she noticed anything. I didn’t think she would lie about that either. Although I did phrase the question in a very roundabout way, so maybe I would have gotten a different answer if I were simply more direct? She could have just been confused, not intentionally misleading.

Plus there was no proof it even really happened. There was nothing but the testimony of my faulty eyes and hazy recollections.

I stared at up at the ceiling. Yep. It wasn’t the tea.

It was the friction between these competing ideas that kept me awake.

Okay well, maybe it was partially the tea. Things can happen for more than one reason, after all.

I looked over at my phone. I could send her a message. Ask again. No. No I think I’d rather talk about this in person. Besides, it was definitely too late in the night to be messaging anyone. There’s no reason to make it so both of us can’t sleep.

Beyond that, there was admittedly also a somewhat selfish desire not to appear overly clingy.

Perhaps latching on to someone new like this after only one meeting isn’t particularly healthy. I know desperation’s not a great look, but it’s basically the only one I have. Well that, and nondescript wallflower-style demureness. Okay, wall ”flower” is maybe slightly too generous, empty, irrelevant section of wallpaper is probably more accurate.

No. Come on. Believe in yourself a little. I can be a flower. That’s not that high of a bar to clear.

I slammed my eyes closed. Just fall asleep already. You don’t want to be late for school. And with that, I tried to silence my inner rambling and will myself into unconsciousness.

The next morning, I woke up bright and early. As in, the morning was both bright and early. That is in no way a description of my mindset, which would more accurately be labeled as groggy and barely functional. Fortunately my morning routine didn’t require much mental labor. Brushed teeth, check; school uniform, check; cell phone, check; backpack, check; other checks, checked. I had some toast with an instant matcha, and then readied a lunchbox for school.

Checking my phone, I saw that my mom had already sent the morning “I’m off for work,” text. I messaged back.

Me: Okay. I’m off.

Mother: Don’t be late. Have a nice day.

Me: Okay. Thank you. You too.

The walk over presented no clear oddities. I might have wanted to call it “a day like any other,” but my own internal policing prevented this mental monologue from appropriating that cliché. Wait, no. I still used it right there. I just commented on its usage afterwards. That’s not better. Is that better? Ugh.

Why am I like this?

My brain is exhausting.

I kept an eye out for any horned persons that may or may not have been on the way. Not in a creepy way. It was in a very normal and reasonable way. Sure, there was no guarantee that we’d run into each other at school, but I’d kind of hoped that we would. It wasn’t the biggest building in the world or anything, but it wasn’t super small either. It occurred to me that she might be in an entirely different class. That would be more than a little anticlimactic, if also more mathematically probable.

I walked into the courtyard of the big, but not too big, but also not small, school building. Seeing as I was early, I spent a little extra time scouting out for her. I looked over by the different entrances, I checked by the lockers, I even peaked into other classrooms, but I didn’t see her.

It was simply the same cast of characters that shared these halls everyday.

Oh well. Routine it is then.

I followed my routine pathing over to my routine classroom and slid into my routine seat, hanging my bag on the back of it in a manner some might describe as routine. I was near the front so the teacher could see me, and close to the door so it was easy to scurry out. Thankfully the space directly behind me was empty, meaning I didn’t have to worry about anyone over there.

Despite my diversions, I was still on the early side of things. Slowly the rest of my classmates began to trickle in. Some in pairs, some in larger groups, most of them talking and laughing amongst each other. I tried not to make eye contact.

Well. Maybe this was better?

It might have been nice to have a friend in this class but if she knew how bland I was in the day to day, she might not stay a friend much longer. Anyhow, I did have her phone number so it’s not like I couldn’t ever talk to her again. Not to mention the day wasn’t over yet. Really, it had just begun. There was time to see her in the hallways or on the walk back after school was out.

That said, I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.

As the seats filled in the voices grew louder, until—

“Alright class, settle down.” Our teacher Ms. Nakamura, entered the room.

“Yes, that means you two as well. Mr. Takahara and Miss Fujiwara, I’m sure you can continue your conversation just as easily during the break.”

Takahara-san gestured towards himself innocently, before making a mock bow and sitting down. Fujiwara-san blushed and tugged at her hair. A few giggles squeaked out before the quiet gained full purchase.

“Thank you. All right.” Nakamura-sensei clapped her hands together.

”We have an important announcement this morning. Starting today we will be having a new student in this class. I’m sure you will treat her well.” She eyed the room, before motioning towards the door. “If you could please introduce yourself to the rest of your classmates.”

There she was. White shirt, dark skirt, black tie.

Evi. Horns and all.

“Hey Rin. Glad to see you.”