Chapter 6:

Toshiro Okumori's desire for virtue is strong... Yet poor.

Accepted


Toshiro Okumori


There was a strong aroma of paint and paper once I walked into the art room, along with a faint smell of… Cherry? Nonetheless, I began scanning the room. Though, I could find no hint of another person in the same room as me. However, just as I began speculating that I was plainly being pranked, a coy, fearful voice spoke.

"I-Is that you, Okumori-senpai...?"

I looked over to who it was.

'Senpai?” Do I know this girl? Is she an underclassman?

There was a girl’s chestnut-colored hair that I could see behind the teacher’s table and red ruby eyes that were watching me in worry.

"H-Hi…”

Then, she cowered back behind the desk in a rush. I could hear murmuring, ensued with a courageous “Okay!”

The girl finally came back into full view, now with a demure smile that revealed her shining, immaculate teeth. I could discern her well-rounded face, her few freckles that sat in a splattered form across her cheeks, and the petite body frame that hid behind her embraced hands that lay near her thighs.

What the hell? She's cute!

"U-um... You probably don't know me, but... I'm Shiori Yokoyama, a first-year in high school…”

That name seemed oddly familiar. Yet, my brain was unable to identify her properly because I had been too sidetracked on the disbelief that I had that a cute girl such as Shiori confessing to some uncommunicative, unaccompanied living creature such as myself.

I then cleared my throat, "I-”

"I cannot return your feelings! You were going to say yes, weren't you? I could tell by your flushed expressions! I-I-I'm so sorry!" The girl interrupted.

… What?

I felt as if every single organism in my body had halted to view the absolute absurdity right in front of me. There was an aghast gasp that erupted from behind the art door, presumably from Miyake who most likely had been concealed out of sight.

Hold on just a minute. Did I just get rejected? By the person who directed a love letter towards me? How does that even make sense?!

Completely baffled, I stood dumbstricken, gazing upon the white walls of the room as if I had turned into a pathetic rock.

"S-S-Sorry! I wasn't planning on actually confessing to you! I was just trying to catch your attention!"

I looked back to Shiori with a cringe.

What? Are you some sort of spoiled, bratty, and self-indulgent child? There’s other ways to grab somebody's attention!

"Please, just let me explain!" She reddened and broke eye contact from my deathly stare. "Y-You don't have any friends, right?" She said as she began wrapping her own arms around herself while she stumbled upon her words.

“...”

Shiori heeded my refusal to talk and turned to the floor.

"I, erm, don't have any… I just wanted to become your friend... You don't seem to appreciate me much though, so I think I’ll be on my way soon… I’m really sorry for wasting your time on somebody like me.”

There was a rapid sound of a door sliding, followed by a slam that almost made me jump to the other side of the room just from how loud it was. Then, there was a yell. An ecstatic one at that, to which the first-year reacted to all of this with a shriek of horror along with the action of shielding her face in pure fear with her hands.

"No, he'll definitely be your friend! Right?" Riiight?: A girl said, who I could only assume was Miyake. She had her arm around Shiori now and presented me with a proud look that only demotivated me.

Shiori eased her arms down and looked at me with tears. “H-He will…?”

As pitiful as she might have seemed, I didn’t falter. I disagreed and shook my head.

"He's lying," Miyake said, trying to sound optimistic. "Don't worry, Yokoyama-san! Or Shiori-chan? Shiori-chan sounds easier! Okumori-kun over here-" Miyake pointed at me. "is planning to build his own personal harem! I mean, he's already got me, so why don't you join in? It'll be fun with another girl!"

I stood in shock by what Miyake had just spurted out of her impudent mouth.

"P-Personal harem..?"

"Mhm!"

"But, isn’t that a relationship where a lot of girls like him? I don’t like him in that sense…”

“Oh, let's just say it’s a platonic harem, then!”

That doesn’t even make sense! That’s just called a friendship at that point!

“Oh, then… I’m okay with it?”

No, don’t agree with it! You’re just fueling her absent-mindedness!

"Ehehe, great!” Miyake giggled. “I’m Youko Miyake, by the way!” she then introduced and inched closer to Shiori, now bending over to her height.

leaning towards Shiori with a gleeful grin.

“C-Can I call you Miyake-senpai, then?”

"Of course you can!"

I watched them with a stupefied expression. Too much happened between a span of five minutes, and I could do nothing but accept it all. It was like I was currently living a dream, because there was no possible way that these two girls ever would ever want to create a bond with me.

"So, why did you want to become friends with Okumori-kun?" Miyake went to say what I had been thinking.

"I just erm... Saw him lonely? I thought maybe that if me, someone who’s just as friendless, then maybe we could form a relationship due to our related experiences? When I watched you two at the cafe, I eventually began to think that he wasn’t as lonely as I was anymore, and began rethinking my decision of talking to Okumori-senpai… But even with that unwilling doubt stuck in my head, I forced myself to try being friends.”

Wait, wait, what did she just say?

“But… Why?” Miyake now anxiously said.

“I… I need somebody to erm… To rely on, I guess?” Shiori replied with uncertainty while scratching the back of her head.

Miyake's happy smile progressively shifted into a horrified one as the seconds went by, and seemed to be petrified of Shiori.

“No… No I wasn’t talking about that, Shiori-chan… Did you just say you watched us at the cafe?”

“Oh, that? Ehehe,” she chuckled with rosy cheeks, “I followed you guys to the cafe so I could gather more information about Okumori-senpai, of course. I just wanted to know what he liked! I know that he drank two cups of vanilla bean frappuccino!" She smiled. “Well… At least that’s what I think he ordered. I'm pretty sure that was it! I also ordered it, and it was pretty delicious! You have good taste, senpai!"

Shiori grinned contentedly as she said all of this.

Miyake and I were both completely frozen, unnerved, and terrified at the first-year's words.

"Did you follow us there?”

Miyake tried to speak with her delighted and ecstatic tone but failed miserably as her words came out with a startled and fearful expression.

"Yes!"

"Are you sure you don’t just want to be intimate with him…?”

"No, of course not!” Shiori refused in disbelief. “I don't harbor any feelings for him at all!”

"You did all of that just to be friends, Shiori-chan?"

"Mhm!" Shiori rapidly nodded.

I watched Miyake slowly remove herself from Shiori and approach me. She reached over and gripped my wrist tightly, making me shocked in the process from her forwardness.

What are you doing?! Don’t just grab me like that!

"Well, Shiori-chan, it seems we have to go somewhere! Bye-bye!" She turned around and waved at her.

"Huh?! Wait, but-!"

Before we could hear what Shiori had to say, Miyake dragged me out of the room swiftly.

"The café! She knows about the café!" Miyake silently exclaimed once we were outside.

I nodded shakily.

"I honestly don't know if she's obsessed with you, or has no idea how friendships work!"

I agreed again.

As we both freaked out, I would look down to my arm, which was still in a bind with Miyake’s hands. She eventually would take notice too and pull away from it as soon as she realized. We were silent for a few as we strolled in the empty hallways, until Miyake sparked up the conversation from earlier again.

"Seriously, that was creepy! That was so creepy! She just admitted to stalking you! That wasn't a confession of love at all! It was a confession of creepiness!" Miyake shuddered. "Okumori-kun, you might have to take a few days off school! She might even know where you live, so if you see her, don't hesitate to call me or the police!"

This was one of the times where Miyake's advice was actually helpful. I accepted her recommendation and nodded.

"... But she must've also seen how you snapped at Iwasaki-san, too.”

Again, I nodded.

Judging by how weird that girl was, I could only assume that she found it amusing to watch.

Miyake ultimately halted talking for a few minutes after she said Iwasaki's name. There was a clear drastic change in the atmosphere between us, and it made me apprehensive. Normally, she’d be sparkling with talk and frenzy, but oddly enough, she was doing the same thing she was doing this morning. Keeping quiet.

When we left the school, the sun had been settling down. And all the while Miyake continued to refuse to talk, I marched in discomfort.

When is she going to talk?

"Hey, Okumori-kun." She’d finally say.

Miyake didn't face me but instead gazed at the afternoon sky. I watched her blonde hair fly back as the gust of wind flew against us.

"Did you know Iwasaki-san in the past?"

I figured that question was coming. It was just a matter of how I would respond to it. And to that, I had no clue how to. Instead, I kept silent and began walking ahead of her.

"Is it true that somebodies… Dead? Is that Tomoka girl you said related to all of this?”

That question made me halt. I didn't face her, but I could sense that she was standing still.

Don’t bring that up. Please don’t.

Soon, I had taken into account that I had begun to feel livid. I was abundant in irascibility, overwhelmed with disarray and nuisance mixed into one. My nails dug into the palm of my dry, warm hands, and my fingers wriggled around in an attempt to quell my outraged emotions.

"Iwasaki-san isn't a bad person, you know. I think she’s just trying to help you.”

A breath of displeasure escaped me as I faced Miyake.

"You've known her for a week or two. What do you even know about her?”

She seemed dumbfounded by my rebuttal and proceeded to take a moment to answer back. "E- Enough, I guess.”

“Is it? You’re just naive. Just because she gave you a soft-hearted attitude doesn’t mean that it’ll stay.”

Not a single word was spoken from Miyake. Instead, she plainly stands there, avoiding any eye contact with me.

“Just because you have a certain fondness for someone doesn’t mean I relate with that same feeling of affectio-”

“It took me a day to figure you out.”

At a moment’s notice, her orangey, previously sunny eyes were turned back to me. It was a bland color now; a dark, and bothered one that viewed me in plaintiveness.

“You hate me, right? It took me a day to realize that, so what makes it any different when I notice somebody’s kind-heartedness? What’s your point exactly? Is it that people can change? is that it? If that’s your point, then doesn’t that mean that even you can change?”

“...”

“But you didn’t expect me to say that, did you, Okumori-kun?” She held a constrained smile under her clear gloominess. “I’m smart too, you know? I even managed to reveal your insincere words…”

She would wipe her eyes with her sleeve.

“Ugh… I hate crying like this…” She stifled a giggle as she spoke. “I have emotions too, clearly… I’m also a human being, just as you are, Okumori-kun. Yet, you treat me as if I'm the sort of person that brings you down. I’m trying to be your friend here… That’s not very nice, is it?”

She inhaled to recompose herself.

“But of course, it’s hard to stay as friends forever, huh?”

As I stood in absolute dismay upon hearing Miyake, there was that feeling of absolute contrition and poignancy that swamped my body. In fact, I was too stumped to move. The only thing that I could do was watch her lend me her good-natured grin as she talked.

“Worrying about if you’re being used, or if you belong… Wondering if they’re trustworthy and if they’ll ever talk impolitely behind your back… Thinking if they even deserve a disastrous mess such as you, and what you can do to make them stay forever… It’s all pretty hard, huh?”

I approached her in haste and gripped her shoulders tightly. She gasped, and appeared frail and stunned in my hands as she gazed at me in a haze. Her lips were chapped due to the hard winds, and the sclera of her eye had a slight hue of red that was visible if you looked hard enough.

I’m sorry.

“If you don’t like me, then you should leave,” I spoke.

If I’m already hurting you, then shouldn’t that be enough reason for you to leave already? I’m not the right person for you to confide in, nor will I ever shape myself up to become one. If the world can’t even listen to me, what makes it practicable that I would dare bother to even give that privilege to it?

What is the definition of hope if there was none there to even begin with?

What is there to befriend? What is there to satisfy?

There is only a heart and mind that is too shattered beyond repair, to where not a single band-aid would stay and heal it.

Miyake broke eyes with me and observed her surroundings. She viewed the grey, coarse concrete beneath her, the blossom trees that turned into the innocent shade of white from the sunset that bloomed over us, the presumably vacant school that cowered behind her in fear, and eventually herself.

“I… I can’t…” She muttered. “No… It’s not right. It’s not right! I can’t do that.”

I was only quiet about her rejection.

“I won’t let you go… I made a promise.”

“Look, I might not ever know your situation, Okumori-kun… Even I have secrets that I wouldn’t dare say to anybody. But… But how long can you hide from it? Until your very death? It’ll eat your heart up like it does mine!”

I chewed on my lip until the skin ripped off and formulated my response directly after.

“I will deal with my self-deprecation myself,” I said.

A feeble voice came out of her. “Then… Just please don’t stress yourself… Please.”

I didn’t nod or shake my head. Instead, I only locked my gaze with her teary, miserable face.

She sniffled and unveiled a smile to me. “Okay, hm?”

I swallowed.

Crap.

–-

Eventually, we strolled back to our houses. Miyake was rather low-spirited and appeared incapable of utilizing her chatty attitude, therefore, there were no words that were spoken on the way home. However, she decided to bestow a nice wave to me. In acknowledgment, I lent a plain nod back, until entering my house.

I didn’t dare bother taking off my clothes or taking a bath once I got in. I was too fatigued to do any of that. I could only muster the energy to walk inside my room and fall on my bed.

I faced the ceiling after I had landed, and dropped my arm onto my forehead in guilt.

"Why did I even say her name?"

I couldn’t tell Miyake about that dream I had last night, or else she’d push herself even more and pry into my business. And that isn’t even including the part about Iwasaki.

Well, I don’t plan on giving her that information. I want to move on from Iwasaki, forget about her and live my own life freely.

Frankly, I want to lose the memories of all the sickening, sinful deeds I’ve done in the past and just restart a whole new life. I want to feel like a new person without feeling pointless and incompetent anymore.

But that’s just not easy at all, is it?

Right?

It’s not easy, right?

A vibration in my pocket disturbed the rich and colorful concepts that I had been pondering upon and generated an overall surge of pessimism in my head. I snatched my phone from my pocket and pushed the power button on the right side to turn it on in resentment, just to be met with the surprising name of Miyake on mail.

Oh right, I have her email address… Wait, why is she even texting me right now?

All while still feeling unhappy, I fell into the temptation of tapping on the notification just to see if it would perk my peeved, yet jumbled curiosity.

“Did you want to go to the mall next week? I’ll pay!” The message read, alongside a sticker emoji of a buoyant dog that barked.

Didn’t we just…?

“Oh, and, I’m pretty over the whole argument thing now! Sorry, I was in the wrong! Haha! Mall tho??” Another text read.

Considering the fact that I had just yelled at her, she had gotten over it rather briefly. It was either that, or she was just trying to seem euphoric to me. I really couldn’t tell, especially over mail.

"Tch," I muttered, then madly tapped on my phone to reply back.

“I’ll think about it.”

I then tossed my phone aside.

Just not right now…

A shut of the eyes for a few seconds was plenty enough to put me to rest, all the way until the next day would arrive. As usual, I took a shower, readied my clothes and casually slid them on, ate the nice breakfast my mom prepared, and left the house.

Only, the thing that wasn’t usual was encountering Miyake right in front of my doorsteps, standing as if she just conquered new land.

I staggered back upon her immodest presence.

"Hi!"

I sighed.

I recognized how, without much delay, Miyake had gotten over what had happened. I was overly concerned, and it made me wonder if she had even comprehended anything that occurred that unfavorable afternoon.

"How are you?” She questioned.

Despite her depressed attitude yesterday and how pitiful she was, I was still in no favor of performing an act of tenderness towards her as of now. But, I remained a little remorseful and spoke.

“... Well,” I hesitantly replied.

I walked past her and continued onto the street.

“Oh, that’s… That’s great!” Miyake tried to empathize.

It was clear, much like reading a kindergartener’s level book, that Miyake had a mood of uncertainty that came along as she chatted. Yet, I had nothing on my mind that could attempt to repair her usual perky personality, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t bother taking any action.

"Ah, Um… Okumori-kun, what do we do about that first year? Shiori-chan?"

You still bother giving her the honorific of “chan?”

I stopped, looked over, and answered rather self-assuredly.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?!”” Miyake was taken aback.

I nodded and continued to walk down the street. I didn’t want to inform her of what I had been thinking of since she’d most likely ruin it. I wanted to do this independently, and figure it out myself.

She approached me and got in my face, then snatched my right hand and clasped them together with hers.

"You're just going to let some girl stalk you?! Are you crazy?! You have to call the cops or tell your mom! That’s not safe! Who knows? She might know what you do when you’re by yourself!”

I distanced my face away from her promptly and in distress.

Yeah, that’s great and all, but could you respect my personal space? Please? I’m just as alarmed and panicky as you!

Once Miyake would perceive that I wasn’t being responsive to her, she jutted a groan and turned away.

"Fine! But, if you catch her looking at you when you're inside your room with nothing but your underwear, don't blame me!"

A wave of warmth all of a sudden coated my face upon listening to Miyake. That would be an unmitigated disaster, and I don’t think it’d be conceivable to restore my already forlorn pride. It was imperative that I do something about this girl because my general privacy was at risk here.

When I joined class, it was hardly surprising at all that I was met with the majority of class presenting me with a glare of lividness. Until Miyake came in, that is. Once she had put even an inch of her foot inside the sore room, those grimaces shifted into faces of compassion within seconds.

Well, she has her charm… And I have my abnormality. Can I really blame all of you guys?

As the class continued, I didn't pay attention to the studies at all but alternatively devised a small little plan as to how to find out who Shiori really was. And since I was too engaged in doing so, classes whizzed past in no time.

Eventually, lunch break came. A perfect time.

Whilst Miyake was occupied with blabbering with the girls, I rose from my seat and took the chance to exit the classroom. Once I had finally left safely, I decided to make my way towards the first-year classrooms.

Feeling all covert and furtive oddly made me have more energy than usual, as well as… Exceptionally nervous. It was clear that I had to blend in amidst all these first years, or else it’d be game over for me as I would be found by Shiori.

As I roamed the hallways, there were a few first years that came past me. To my avail, I overheard some gossip from two girls who were talking loudly.

"Did you hear? Shiori Yokoyama is in this school! Apparently, she's in class 3-1!”

I wasn’t so sure as to why the girls had sounded so zealous about a shy stalker girl, but it wasn’t my issue. Once I took in their information, I began looking for class 3-1 in haste. Only after a few minutes of searching, I could spot the class.

I peeked inside, and it stunned me to see that nobody was present at all. I didn’t bother to question why everybody was peculiarly missing, as that would be a downright waste of time. Now, my only interest was aimed at finding information about Shiori.

But, that was the problem. There was nothing here that could indicate anything about Shiori. No one to talk to, no papers to look at, nothing. It was just me and this room of barrenness.

"Stop! Stop it!" A feminine voice yelled out.

I gave a glimpse to the door, then ran over to the corner of the room and crouched behind a desk in fear of being spotted.

What the hell?! Now people come in?!

There were several footsteps that followed suit from the cry, along with the terrorized whimpering of a girl that neared the classroom. I attempted my best to keep placid and quiet and watched the doors under the desk.

Like an animal that was horror-stricken, a girl ran inside in swiftness, until ultimately tripping over herself and striking the floor. She was followed by four more girls, all seeming to be first years.

"Oi, you think because you're an idol you'd get special treatment?" A girl vociferously said. “You’re a fucking mess, you know that? Hah?!”

Idol?

"N-No!"

"Look at you, being all scared! You don't show this side of you on TV, do you? You pig!”

"Wait!" The scared girl shrieked.

The furious one lifted her arm in rage and brought it upon the poor, downhearted girl, and generated a loud, echoing slap that made the girl fly over and knock down a few desks. It hushed her as she seized her cheek in incredulity.

“Bitch!”

After that, everybody left the classroom except me and the girl. The whole room was subdued at first, just prior to when I could begin to hear sobbing.

“Why…? Why am I like this…?”

It was evident that the girl had been feeling heavy-hearted as well as resentful. Her quiet, yet distinct weeping of anguish soon evolved into moderate crying just as she formed herself into a ball of tears. She would hug her knees and continue to bawl her eyes out onto her skirts, which were accompanied by a few hiccups every few seconds that came out of her.

I should leave her alone.

I got on all fours and desperately tried to leave by crawling my way out, all while sneaking peeks at her just to make sure she wouldn’t spot me.

But just as if my fortune ran out, I somehow, by chance, rammed my head onto a table. In return, I delivered a bark of pain and held my head in agony.

OUCH! What the hell?! That hurt!

Realizing what I had just done, I immediately froze.

"Okumori-senpai…?”

In hesitancy, I greeted the teary, puffy eyes that lay upon an untidy, petrified face.

… Shiori?

She had not let go of her legs. In fact, she was gripping them so tightly to the point where I could see the skin push in. I could also detect the blemishing slap that took place on her left cheek that she attempted to conceal from me behind her knees.

I stiffly nodded. “Yo.”

"Sorry! I'm so sorry!" She cried and ran out of the room.

Huh… I thought I was going to be the one to run out first.

I gazed hollowly at the door and sighed. Now, it was just back to me and this shallow, idle classroom. Only, there was just the little puddle of tears that rested on the floor, gleaming in the barging sunlight from the windows that kept me company as I sat.

Even if Shiori was conceivably stalking me, there was nothing that said that it was prohibited for me to sense the sympathetic shame in my heart.

Still, she was an idol? Usually, it is supposedly recognized in society that if you have a certain likability with you that is shared by not just a few, but thousands and possibly more, you are esteemed as an angel in the eyes of an ordinary being.

Sure, she had that. She most likely had a fanbase who adored and cherished her. It was undoubtedly clear that she had a presence in our school, yet she encountered people who somehow contain a deprecating attitude toward her.

And so, it made me ponder whether this feeling of revenge was really the appropriate thing to feel at this moment. Would it be right to make her life even wretched than it already is?

Being an idol, or really anybody famous was… Stressful, from the stories I’ve lent an ear to. From planning strict schedules that had barely any lax time, to the unresting diets, and even the harsh, demanding managers. Those were the only ones that I could name.

In truth, I got that information from my mother, who was a well-known prominent model when she was younger; before I was born. I could recall the memories she shared with me during her time, and the hardships she eventually overcame.

"So? Did you find anything?"

I shot a look to the door and saw a sulky, displeased Miyake with her arms linked together.

"I'm pretty angry that you didn't tell me that you were doing this!" She fiercely growled as she loomed over me. "You can depend on me, you know! I can be of help!"

I rose myself off the floor and tiredly looked at her.

"Seriously! I could've helped you! But no, you decided to take it upon yourself! Didn't I say not to stress yourself yesterday?! What if you got caught? What if some people were freaked out by seeing a second year in their classroom?! You have to ask people for help more often!"

The outcome wouldn't be any different if you also got caught, you blockhead! In retrospect, we probably would’ve been caught even earlier!

I emitted a sigh, not wanting to contend with Miyake’s unrelenting complaining.

There are other things to worry about, anyways.