Regarding Hatsui Yokoyama / 横山初生について

Having left the main building, I headed outside. It was raining and I had spectacularly failed to predict the possibility of water drops falling from the sky. Hence, I was lacking the one portable item of greatest aid in times like these—an umbrella.

Fortunately, luck was still on my side. A shining princess appeared to rescue her prince from peril. A subversion of the “damsel in distress” trope. At least that’s what it seemed from anyone else’s point of view. From my own perspective though, this nigh on looked like a yuri fanservice scene. Which, by the way, is considerably better.

Carrying her umbrella, she was quick to notice me—the classmate she had met earlier.

“Hi, Ishida. If I had to assume, you’re still here because you have no way to shelter yourself from this rain.”

“Mhm.”

“I hope this is the last time this happens, seriously. I’m not about to become your personal escort home, okay? Luckily, I can fit us both beneath. You should be well aware Summer is still more than two months away.”

“I know, I just forgot.”

Amidst the momentary silence that took over after my line, once she was aware I was looking at her, Yokoyama instantly assumed I was shamelessly ogling her breasts.

“W-Why’re you looking at me like that?”, she blurted out nervously, quickly grabbing the right lapel of her open blazer jacket and fully covering her (already concealed by her shirt) chest with it.

“I thought you’d be harsher on me.”

She sighed, relieved it was nothing more than mere imagination.

“Were you expecting me to hurl insults at you?”

“I didn’t know what to expect, so that option was definitely on the table, even if the little I already knew from you contradicted it. Don’t worry, I’m not one of those who enjoys being verbally abused by their female classmates.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Also, I wasn’t leering at your breasts. Don’t take me for a pervert, please,” I clarified, mildly angry and worried her first impression of me was one of a lustful asshole.

“Ah…,” she scratched her head, acknowledging her mistake, “Sorry.”

“So why did you forget to bring one?”, she added after a brief pause.

“Weather forecast.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t check it, that’s all there is to it.”

“Really,” she laughed, “Silly Ishida. Now I know what to expect from you.”

She laughed. I didn’t blame her honestly. She had all the right to do that. That is, until—

“Are you two dating?”

I was utterly flummoxed with such a fierce offensive move. I did not see that coming, be it from five miles or four iles away. A wild sudden shift of topic. Was that the full power of a shoujo expert?

“W-What??? Dating who?”

“Sakurai Kimura.”

“N-No, no, you got it all wrong. I take it she told you about our friendship. But we’re only friends. Just that, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Understood. I’m sorry for assuming again. Say, do you want to be my friend? I mean a real friend, not just in Line.”

“Sure. Although… I do not know your name yet.”

“Hatsui Yokoyama.”

“Nice to meet you, Yokoyama. Umm… where are you going now? I’m on my way to the bus stop.”

“That makes us two.”

She lifted her head up, staring at the ceaseless shower ahead of us. Concluding it wouldn’t tone down anytime soon, she turned her head to face me.

“Shall we? Certainly doesn’t look like the rain will stop anytime soon.”

“Yeah.”

She opened her umbrella and I promptly stepped into the space underneath it. We kept talking as we moved away from the exit to the street.

“Yokoyama?”

“Yes?”

“Earlier this morning I noticed how Kimura greeted you. What is she to you? You seem to know each other.”

That and how she unfoundedly jumped to assume I shared such a special bond with the hyperactive athlete. It gave me the impression that the question she threw at me had a secondary goal besides uncovering what my relationship with her was or to unintentionally provoke me—as if the target wasn’t me but instead Kimura herself.

“Well… back in junior high, we bumped into each other in our last school year. I wouldn’t really call her a friend of mine, since we barely talked. We were merely acquaintances. She was always the one who started conversations with me.”

My past experiences with her flashed before my eyes.

“Yeah, she's rather… energetic.”

She nodded in agreement with a disappointed face.

“We never got to know each other much, and when we both got into the same senior high school, we were put in different classes,” she continued, “That is, until today.”

“So, you’re not friends, at least in your view."

“Yes. But, but looking back… I wish I was more open back then. I rejected the one person who wanted to be my friend the most. I regret it. Plus, she's not genuinely a bad person, I know that much.”

She remembered how socially awkward she used to be in her junior high days.

“Umm, can I sit next to you?”

A dark-blue-haired girl, taller than average, noticed a lone girl in the classroom after everyone had left minutes ago when cleaning time ended.

Not receiving an answer from her, even after attempting to communicate, she tried to comfort her somehow.

“I-If you don’t want, it’s totally fine, I swear!”

The introverted girl muttered a monotonous “Yes”—an approval to get closer to her and perhaps sit side by side. And the extroverted girl did exactly that.

“Why're you still here at this time of day?”

Uncrossing her arms, the shoujo manga magazine she was reading was revealed.

“Can I? I won’t bite, I promise!”

The timid girl nodded.

As she opened it and read the pages one by one, she was surprised to see all kinds of different comics inside.

“Oohhh amazing! Wait, I know this one! ‘A special rerelease to celebrate the ten-year anniversary of the end of serialization’.”

Whilst she navigated the magazine, the shy girl’s body and stance exuded embarrassment. The kind of embarrassment when a classmate discovers your secret passion.

“Seriously? You like Fruits Vessel? Why didn’t you tell me before, I love it! But then I don’t really know any of the other ones serialized here.”

Embarrassment squared.

“Ah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… here, you can have it back.”

“That got awkward really quick,” the blue-haired girl thought.

She placed the magazine atop the desk. With the room now quieter, she was able to overcome her anxiety, sending out a response.

“It’s… it’s fine. Really.”

“Okay. What’s your name?”

“Hatsui Yokoyama.”

Receiving the information akin to how a program receives an input, she stored it in her hard drive and emitted her own output message.

“Very nice to meet you, Yokoyama. Name’s Sakurai Kimura.”

“Y-Yes.”

“Want to be friends?”

Immovable. That’s how she was after that question.

“Come on, don’t stand there petrified.”

No answer, just pure embarrassment.

“Fine, fine. I understand why you struggle to answer. If you can’t give me a response now, I’ll w—”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. As I said, I understand why you act like this. I was once like that too, but that’s beside the point here.”

Yokoyama noticed her classmate getting up.

“Anyway, tell me when you c—”

Garnering the strength to speak up once more, she interrupted her again.

“I… I will, I promise!”

“Good grief, I already know that much. Just let me know if ever you need a friend. I’ll be somewhere near, awaiting your answer!”

Kimura sprinted off.

The days flew away and—

“Time passed… and I never gave her an answer.”

Yokoyama was visibly emotional. A few tears dropped from her eyes. Similarly to chameleons, hiding in between the scenery, they could easily be confused with raindrops.

“Yokoyama? Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am, thanks for worrying.”

Her face now sketched a smile. What a relief.

At that moment, we arrived at the bus stop. Just the two of us, waiting for the 6:15 PM bus. She closed her wet umbrella and shook off the water as much as she could. We sat on the bench.

“I won’t repeat the same mistakes this time, and I’ll be the best friend she could ever want,” she continued, observing the relentless rainfall, listening to its soothing sound.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

The smile was mutual now. A few minutes later, one could spot our transport from afar. It was time to embark on our short journey home.

Inside the unusually not-so-full bus, we took a seat on two chairs next to each other.

“Ishida, where’s your exit bus stop?”

“It’s in Chuo ward. You could say it’s right before the bookstore in Akasaka.”

“Oh. That’s also my exit bus stop.”

She recalled the moment when she left the classroom with Kimura.

“Ishida?”

“What is it?”

“I saw you briefly talking to Ueno back there before Kimura and I left. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Wait, you know him?”

“Well… he's pretty widely known for his grades, so this shouldn't come as a surprise.”

“Right.”

“So. Tell me about it.”

She was very demanding for someone who had her emotions running high not long ago.

“He's my oldest friend. We've known each other since our first year of junior high. He's a really nice guy to talk to. The kind of friend that makes you feel like you could tell him anything and he'd understand you. Plus, he's a really cool asset when it comes to teaching, like a portable cram school.”

“You shouldn't use him like that, idiot. I personally wouldn't want to be thought of as a portable cram school.”

“No, he knows and is completely fine with it. We're best friends, he’s well aware I mean no harm with something like that. In fact, it makes him glad that I ask for help.”

“Sheesh, that's still an awkward friendship you've got with him. It does balance out in the end though. A student that gets easily distracted in class and a portable cram school.”

“What do you mean?”

“In today's classes you kept looking away all the time and the Math teacher even called you out twice.”

Her words brought a set of fresh memories to mind. The teacher was explaining logarithmic functions and after finishing doing so, she asked the audience for assistance in solving an equation with logarithms.

She pointed at the chalkboard.

“Does anyone want to volunteer themselves to solve this equation? Aoki? Nakagawa?”

Both of those spelled out a clear but lazy “No”, which in turn brought the teacher into remarking the following with disappointment splattered all over her face:

“Vacations really made all of you lazy. Has anyone been paying attention to what I’ve explained? Ishida?”

I was not paying attention.

“Huh, what are you doing Ishida?”

A totally reasonable question, teacher. Unfortunately, I was too busy, looking away at the open window, thinking about something vastly different from math. It was only when it hit my eardrums multiple times that I returned to planet Earth.

Forcibly detached from my daydream, I acknowledged the situation. I was too late though.

“Hmm?”

“Never mind.”

Seeing how I had lost my chance, someone took advantage of it and lifted their hand. That was Kimura, all pumped, craving those coveted brownie points, yearning to be picked. Not sure if she knew how to solve the damned equation in the first place, but, ultimately, that didn’t really matter. Correct or not, the action would fulfill its purpose and she’d get her oh-so-desired points, given no one else wanted to get up from their chair. In any case, “We’re all here to learn,” is what the teacher would say if she was mistaken. Smart. Not that she was the only smart one in class then. Far from it. We all simply had our motives to avoid it. Especially me.

“Oh? Ah, thank you Kimura.”

Travelling back to the present, I replied to Yokoyama’s statement.

“Y-Yes…,” I affirmed, cornered, “I was however thinking of important things.”

“Important things? What kind of important things could be crossing your mind during math class?”, her smirk implied she thought I was hiding something.

“Not telling.”

“Fine. Anyway, worry not, as I will not exploit that flaw of yours to joke around. I promise. It’d be hypocritical of me to do so.”

“Thanks.”

Eventually, we arrived at our exit. I stood up and went outside first, which at first would seem an antithesis to any observing eyes, given the stereotypical saying ‘ladies first’, but in my world view, we were just two girls hanging out a bit after school, attempting to get to know each other better. For my own discontent though, the reality was no more than two teenagers of opposite sexes interacting.

When we were both standing on the sidewalk next to our destination bus stop, she asked me which side I was heading towards. I replied with a fluent “Forth”.

“Alright. Well, goodbye, Ishida. Thanks for letting me vent. And thanks for being my friend.”

“No, it’s completely fine, really. Never hesitate to ask me for help again. After all, that’s what friends are there for.”

We both smiled as we waved our goodbyes and parted ways.

Heading home, an unexpected surprise awaited me. I turned left and opened the door.

“I’m home!”

Hearing nothing but the reverberations of my words, I looked around the house.

“Huh? Where's everyone?”

Having entered the living room, I was quick to notice my parents sitting on the couch. But this wasn't like any other day. Next to them stood female underwear. To be specific, a bra. They had lifted the cover on my biggest secret. I honestly have no words to describe how speechless I was then. My world was flipped upside down.