"Takahashi, please remain seated after class." Mrs. Ito voiced.
Kiyomi had packed her belongings and laid a farewell palm on Hana's shoulder with a thin smile. Hana nodded back. Kiyomi left the classroom along with the rest of her classmates to go to lunch, leaving Hana alone with Mrs. Ito.
Mrs. Ito began cleaning the chalk board with the dusty wooden eraser. They had been analyzing a new passage. Specifically a poetic passage, requiring lots of writing. All of which Hana wrote, also making sure to add little verbal details her teacher spoke of to the unenthusiastic students.
"How is the poem coming along?" She inquired.
"I have completed it." She replied. It's true. The wide range of emotions that pulsed through her every night made it frankly easier to describe and emphasize. Infact, she finished the majority of it within a week or two.
"In such short time?" Mrs. Ito was taken aback.
"Yes."
"That's marvelous." A thin upward curve appeared on her slightly wrinkled complexion.
"That is also why I asked you to stay. I have noticed a difference, Hana." She said as she laid the eraser flat on the metal ledge of the board before taking a seat at her desk, gesturing for her to come closer.
"What may that difference be, Mrs. Ito?" She asked.
"I have been reading your analyzation work in your notebook in a more thorough manner recently. I can't help but find a noticeable difference in the way of your words." She paused.
"It seems that there is a drastic amount of emotion changes within you that allows you to look at things differently. In contrast to your work in January, your words are noted with heavier weight and significant detail."
"I haven't noticed that." She said shakily, knowing exactly what her teacher was talking about.
"Which brings me to my point. I can't help but ask about this change in you and your behavior. Is everything okay? Are you okay, Takahashi?" She said, concerned.
"I-" Her throat stopped short. She had been keeping a straight face and was ready to answer confidently but it failed on her. It all failed on her. She expected her throat to answer the ordinary "Yes I'm fine." Instead, her throat throbbed and lumped, her eyes prickled, her hands shook, she knew what followed.
To Mrs. Ito, she had asked her best disciple a very serious question out of motherly concern. No child should go through such a vigorous change full of exhaustion and depression. This disciple, with all her solemnity, began to tear up. The brightest tears she had ever seen.
She could see that in her eyes, she has been through too much for an eighteen year old who works that hard. The way her entire face was slimming, the bones in her hands carving out, the change of tone. Mrs. Ito rarely noticed the change in writing, that was an excuse to ask about the physical changes in her well being.
Those tears were ones of affliction, pure pain. And it was all visible, the strong wall of masking titanium creased with a cry for help.
She cleared her throat before speaking with a raspy voice.
"Yes, I am okay." She mumbled slowly, blinking at a faster pace. Those blinks were meant to conceal her tears, bottling them again. Forcing them back in as they scream to stay and to plummet. She even itched the outer corner of her right eye, sneakily wiping a drop threatening to fall behind her hair.
Mrs. Ito could see right through her. She was in pure grief and she was falling apart faster than the blink of an eye, all because of a question. She was falling apart because that's what she clearly wanted to do, but she didn't allow herself to.
Mrs. Ito herself slipped up at the sight of Hana falling apart. Her true cause peeked out.
"I saw the redness of your eyes every time you walked into my literature class for the past two weeks. It's normal for you to experience these mood changed but not at this intensity."
She didn't respond.
"If you need help, reach out. I am willing to listen to you if you need to talk to me, Hana." Mrs. Ito said. Mrs. Ito isn't the emotional type, which Hana liked. She smiled occasionally in class but kept her control over the class. Mrs. Ito could not say anything else to comfort her, she had a difficult time expressing emotions through words, like Hana.
"I will, thank you. If you'll excuse me." She said quickly.
"You are excused." Mrs. Ito responded, hesitant.
She took her bag and rushed out, starting to cry the second she stepped out. Mrs. Ito saw it all. The rushed walking and the hand wiping her cheek. She knew even her name at the end of the sentence shook her but reminded herself not to get involved. She had no right meddling in her business, she was only her literature teacher.
Shut it out, shut it out, shut it out! She thought. She wanted the impossible, not to feel. She didn't want her heart to feel, her eyes to tear, her hands to shake. Feelings can't be denied, but she could force them to be inconceivable if she wanted to.
She went into the bathroom quickly. It was empty, just to her propensity. She went into the stall she usually goes to, the one by the window. She took a seat on the closed toilet, sitting there in silence. There were tears coming out. She never thought anyone would notice or care, her own best friend didn't see her exhausted eyes. She was shocked to the point where she wept into her sleeve stiffly, wetting the fabric. Merely soft and slow cries.
She was sick of existing, sick of feeling, sick of being human. Sick of the accumulating expectations which held her in a stronger chokehold than ever before. She was sick of it and wanted it to end.
She remained in her seated position for another five minutes, taking a bite of her sandwich in there alone. She had no stamina to keep going and still pull a straight face to socialize with anyone at the lunch table. Longing the silence of her own company, she sat in comfortable silence. She liked being alone, just recharging her social battery until she had the will to go back out there.
Though she was enjoying her alone time, she stopped breathing. She inhaled a sharp breath and held it, afraid of being heard. She heard footsteps by the washroom entrance. She shook as she put away the majority of her food that remained. She wasn't in the mood to finish it, she didn't have an appetite anymore or any want for it, with only one bite taken. She washed up by the sink, rinsing her face and washing her hands thoroughly before taking her things outside.
Music played in her ears as the wire rubbed against her neck, resisting the air. It was taking her out of her situation, saving her from it all, plucking her out of reality into her own realm. It helped her escape from her suffocating problems. She didn't know exactly where she was going, but she went wherever each beat and lyric took her.
She took a seat, snapping back to reality, unexpectedly sitting in the same place where she began writing her poem. She didn't understand how she came here on her own. Where she and Wakatoshi talked and walked together, having deep conversations that connected them in unspoken ways. It brought an uncomfortable feeling to her throat and a plunge in her stomach to even think they don't have that anymore, she'd lost it all. It all fell apart in her hands. Everything made her feel terrible now, everything was all connected to him. Every spot, every place, every word, every flower.
She was conscious of all the unspoken words trapped beneath the surface of her throat. She was relapsing into her cycle of regret.
I wish, I wish, I wish. How could I remember all I have to do but forget that? I should've been more aware, more cautious. I wish I told him everything, told him how much he meant to me. Maybe then..
Like radiation, her self hate was stronger than ever. She didn't have the courage, the bravery, or the power to deny it. Like radiation, dejection and pity were all that she could see in every corner everywhere.
The bell rang. It snapped her out of her thoughts, guiding her to stand up on instinct.
She headed back to class,
heedless of the tall figure that scanned her from afar, ready to approach her.
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Author: WE'VE MADE IT TO CHAPTER 30!! WOOHOOO
thank you for making it this far! it's been an amazing journey. this book is all i've ever wanted to make of my writing and i hope you can love it as much as i do <3