How We Met Again

Chapter 35: Lost Connections

Chapter 35
Lost Connections

Far in the north, at the ends of the world, winter days are things of light and sun and blistering, ever-pervasive cold. Moisture in the air is entirely incapable of condensing, molecules unable to even cling to one another's tender hydrogenic grasp. Frozen, they dance in mesoscopic crystals, refracting light in arcs around the sun to create breathtaking parhelia; sundogs, faithfully bounding at their master's side.

Beauty, visible only in the grasp of the extreme. A sight reserved for those on the edge, for worlds so cold that temperature scales converge.

Winter in Nagoya was not like that.

"Pencils down."

Rain gently pelted against the window, sliding down the glass panes. As the final exam finished on Wednesday morning, I shifted in my seat, attempting to fight down my irritation. I'd finished the science exam two hours prior -- yet, the invigilating teacher had, for some completely unfathomable reason, not permitted me to leave my seat, forcing me to sit and stare out the window. Stewing in my own thoughts, I'd spent nearly the whole time worried about Yotsuba.

Consuming myself with the delusion that I had a semblance of control over what was to come.

It's over, anyways.

Rising, and shaking my head at the teacher in disgust as I left, I made my way to the cafeteria for lunch. While we technically didn't have classes in the afternoon, I'd planned to stay and study in the library as a means to decompress; therefore, despite my wallet's protestations, it didn't make much sense for me to go home.

After ordering my typical inexpensive lunch, I settled into my usual spot. Uneasily, I shifted in place, cracking my chopsticks.

The library wasn't my only reason for staying. I was also hoping to get lunch with Yotsuba and debrief. I could feel the worry of the previous two hours gnawing away in the depths of my chest; a deep-seated desire to reach out to her, to get assurance, to get some kind of progress report.

Not knowing was deeply uncomfortable. It was like there was an itch that I couldn't scratch driving me mad.

The chair across the table pulled back, scraping across the floor, and I looked up hopefully-- only to see Takeda sliding into the seat across from me.

"Um... hello...?"

"Hello!" Takeda said brightly, settling down his tray.

"...Can I help you?" I asked drily, the spike of irritation I felt almost certainly leaking into my voice. It's not his fault he isn't Yotsuba.

"I just wanted to debrief about the exams," Takeda said. "As you know... I've been providing additional tutoring sessions for Nakano Itsuki, which I hope helped. The others, though..."

I opened my mouth... and then bit back the retort I'd been about to make about how there was no point in having this discussion after the exams had already happened.

I could hear the quivering in his voice, not-quite-hidden by the false lightness of his tone.

It was a façade.

Takeda was frightened.

After a long silence, I pinched the bridge of my nose, and closed my eyes.

"Right... so," I muttered, "From the sound of it, Itsuki's probably more or less ok, then? How are you feeling about the others? It doesn't seem positive."

Takeda shifted uncomfortably in the chair, poking down at his food.

"I don't know that even calling Nakano Itsuki's prospects 'ok' is correct, Uesugi-kun. Her positioning is simply the best of the four; but frankly..."