helplessness blues

I didn't do as poorly on the test as I would've thought, all things considered. Youji said he wasn't drunk, but he'd gotten touchy, so I didn't believe him. Not as touchy as I would've wanted, though. More like, not the kind I would've wanted. But that was okay. What wasn't okay were my thoughts in the middle of a test. When I saw petals, I thought of kissing. When I had to draw leaves, I thought of him shirtless. When I had to list off their names, I thought about the way his strong arms surrounded me last night, and a few nights ago, and the first night, and in my dreams.

Weirdly, being a depraved animal mid-exam actually helped me remember some things I'd noted down but never really memorized. So I didn't do as poorly. 

"That was harddd."

What was—oh, the test. 

"What did you answer on the second page? I think I messed up."

I'd never understood the compulsion to discuss answers right after leaving the test. They couldn't even wait to get out the building. What if a very sleep deprived individual did semi-poorly and did not want to hear what he got right and wrong? What then? But the group in front of me walked slowly, took over the entire hallway, and gave no fucks. They were the reason why I hated people.

"The second page was easy, though. The fourth one was harddd. Like, are you going to tell me you could tell them apart?"

I could. 

There were three guys and two girls within that human barrier. I'd seen them around a lot, with this being such a small faculty, but given their behavior, my interest in talking to them diminished every day. 

Three seconds later (I counted) I tripped on a neutrino so I crashed against one of the guys. "Shit!" He squeaked, which caused the rest to turn around, the barrier to disperse. Meanwhile, I fell buttfirst onto the floor. "Hey, Kiryuuin, are you all right?"

No. Die. I hated everyone. I'd destroy the known universe. Why did they know my name? They were the enemy. "Y-yes."

"Here." He held out a hand, which I took. Upon doing this, I adjusted my glasses. 

Awkward silence, very awkward. I wished I could disappear. "Hey, how did you do?" Asked one of the girls. "Don't you always get the top scores?"

She must've confused me with Kiryuu, who always got the top scores, and who didn't have an N at the end of his name. "No. There's. There's another. One." More awkward silence, plus confused, worried stares. Which reminded me—I had to practice conversations. For Youji. Right. Time to be normal. They were enemies. "But, um, there was an easy way to tell them apart. If you looked at the. At the test there was a hint on the second page."

they were surrounding me fuck fuck fuck why were they surrounding me help

"Where?" Asked the guy I'd non-erotically rammed. "Wait, where?"

The girl that confused me with Kiryuuin minus the N clapped all of a sudden, making me jump. Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice. "Right! Riight. The fill in the blanks. They were in order!"

"Huh? No way."

"How did you even figure that out?"

"I got it all wrong..."

I'd caused such disarray amidst the barrier that it was a matter of time for my hatred to spread to the rest of the world, except for my parents and grandparents and cousins and aunt and Ootsuki Rima and the girl from the night shift and Mr. Clarence and You—

"Hey, Kiryuuin." That girl again. Was she the leader?

"Y-yes."

"Are you free? We were planning on going to the karaoke nearby."

"Karaoke? Really?"

They must've mistaken my interest for enthusiasm, the naive, virgin fools. They knew nothing. They hadn't kissed anyone while naked last night. "Yeah!" Said the guy I crashed against. "Let's go."

When he touched my back to push me into the barrier, my fight or flight response activated. What I meant to say was, 'Touch me again and I'll stab you', but this came out instead: "Okay."

***

Karaokes weren't as noisy as I would've thought. I'd seen then in animes before, of course, but to base my knowledge off it would be like when I tried to knock myself unconscious by falling on the floor, kind of, probably. The cabin sure felt small. They ordered food, but I didn't touch it because I was a parasite in the barrier. I'd only tagged along so I could get a hold of what karaoke was really like before coming here with Youji on a date. Coming. With You—

I had to stop. This was getting ridiculous. 

The leader sang first. She did better than Youji, but that wasn't saying a lot. I'd just stay as quiet as possible so they forgot about me. It was one of my few talents. I used to think I was also good at scaring people away, but then I met Youji. I wanted to see him. It was my day off, though, so I couldn't, but maybe he'd randomly show up again tonight and this time there was no test to ruin everything.

"Your turn."

The other girl shoved the microphone at me. "What?" I asked, which echoed across the cabin since, again, she shoved the microphone at me. "So fast?"

"What do you mean, so fast? You didn't sing last round."

"Oh. Okay."

"Here." She gave it to me. The microphone. I took it. There was some screen thing there to choose a song. How could people do this shit willingly? How? I had to stay strong and choose, however, lest I ruin our future date. 

I chose the easiest song I found. "Let's gooo!" Said one of the guys, who'd had a couple beers already. He wore a hat, and he shook maracas. "I love that song!"

Oh, good, maybe he'd sing along and drown my voice. "Me too," I said. It wasn't a lie. I liked soft, slow songs the most. If I put the microphone far away from my face then maybe they wouldn't be able to hear me. The lyrics showed up on the screen, ominously, almost, as the song kicked in. 

Thirty seconds later, the girl who wasn't the leader asked, "Do you know the song or not?"

"He's just nervous," said the guy I'd crashed against.

The guy who wasn't the one I'd crashed against and who hadn't drunk yet finally spoke: "You guys shouldn't have pressured him to come here. He's obviously uncomfortable."

"I'm fine," I lied.

"He's fine," echoed the guy I'd crashed against. 

The Voice Of Reason shrugged, shaking his head. "Whatever."

"Hey, do I restart the song?"

"Is that okay?" I asked.

"Sure."

He did. I literally could not care less about any of these people. At all. They were pawns to me. I didn't care about hanging out with a group of people for the first time in years, or how they cheered, dumbly, as I sang, poorly. Really. I didn't care. This was just practice. I needed no one and yearned to escape the constraints of my species, which was a social one. 

When the drunk guy chose a song from the same artist—which I also loved—and gave me the maracas, I shook them out of moral obligation. Really. I'd never be part of the barrier. It was all a facade and I knew it and they'd never talk to me again after this and if they did I'd end up scaring them off because none of them were Youjis and if I didn't they'd suffer. I didn't want or need to keep talking to any of them. Truly. Promise. 

To be able to laugh with a group, though... it was lovely. 

As if the day couldn't get any better, Youji showed up to my apartment again—sober, at a decent hour this time. He even brought clothes. And food. For once, I had something to talk about, but he could feel betrayed if I told him I'd gone to a karaoke without him, so I changed that to bowling instead. As if the day couldn't get any better, he grinned. "That's great, Isao! I'm so happy for you!"

We sat at the couch. He talked. I talked. Mostly him. At some point, he held out a hand. I wasn't stupid, so I took it, but I did not expect him to seize me like a flytrap. He didn't say why, though. Had he drunk again? "Keep talking," he mumbled, but it was hard to do so when he held me so close, face against my neck, as though I were a teddy bear. 

"Um. I. Sure..."

I dawned on me like I dawned on that neutrino: I was a teddy bear. To him.

Trust: acquired. 

Man, using those idiots as practice had really been fruitful. 

(What a good excuse to talk to them again.)

(For now.)

(To anyone.)

(Please.)

"So. But. W-what do you want to talk about?"

"Anything."

"Really? How about liverwort taxonomy?"

"That's fine."

"That. Good to know. Do you know what a liverwort is?"

"You can tell me."

"Do you care about what a liverwort is?"

"If you care, then yes. I just want to hear your voice."

That sure was a sentence I didn't think anyone would ever utter to me. I believed him, though, or else he would've run away the last time I warned him about how much of a menace I was. Maybe he wanted to get bored to sleep or something. That'd explained why he had showed up again. Why else would—

Stop.

I had to stop with that, too. 

How could I seek his trust but not do the same? Bad. But also... why? Why me? Why not anyone else? Made no sense. Was he stupid? This had to be—

Stop, for fuck's sake.

Why me? Because. Why him? Because. You being you, that's the requirement. I had to believe in those words. Somehow.