The keyboard of the computer rattled and its mouse clicked excessively, as if the user was desperate. And well, you were quite the desperate. After everything that happened yesterday -- from daddy issues to creepy stalker -- you couldn't get any sleep in at all last night. It made school hell -- actual hell. It took every willpower not to drop dead in the middle of a match or mile. It got bad to the point where you left your defense open so often, you were punched and kicked left and right. Your bruises and sore limbs wouldn't stop bothering you.
In the library once again, you were sitting in front of a computer. Eyes locked tight on the screen, it showed a news coverage site, containing information of recent problems. You were trying to find any stories that were similar to your situation. Like maybe abduction? A chill ran down your back at the thought of it. No matter what, you could not allow for that to happen.
And yes, did you know that doing such research in a public space like the school library was a terrible idea? Of course. But it was the only option you had; there was no doubt that the stalker could easily follow your movements at home.
Sighing to yourself, you exited out of the browser and returned to the blue main screen. Frowning in disappointment, you slumped down in your seat. This was no use. Nothing out of the ordinary happened around these parts of town. It was known to have safe neighborhoods and little to no crime, for mainly the rich resided here. So your situation was already a little strange.
"What are you doing?"
Jumping a little in your seat, you quickly whirled around to meet face to face with Namiko. In his hands were a stack of books about archery again, his tall figure looming over your seated self. How long had he been standing there for? Did he get a glimpse of what you looked up? He had somehow snuck up on you so quietly that you didn't even notice his presence until he spoke. It sort of unnerved you.
"I'm just researching a bit," you explained, letting out a nervous laugh. "You?"
He nudged his head towards his books and slid into the chair next to you. "Studying." Cracking a book open, he immediately delved into the text, his focus unwavering.
"You must like archery a lot, huh," you said, deciding to make an attempt at conversation. There was even less point in trying to do research now with him here. It was best if you didn't involve anyone into this mess, so you would have to solve it alone. Whether this was going to be a mistake on your part or not would be decided in the future.
Lifting his head up, his blue hues met yours. He slowly nodded, his expression unchanging. "I do, for the most part."
"Only for the most part?" you echoed, knitting your brows together.
"Because of obligation. I would like to go back to the days when it wasn't a race. When I didn't have to go through challenges consistently just to keep my place at this school."
You understood it now. His eyes had grown dark when the teacher called him elite that one time. He was tired of that name, wasn't he? Suddenly, you felt bad to judge elites so quick. Having a title to their name didn't necessarily mean they would have perfect lives. They were human as much everyone else. Namiko was human. So was Kouki... and Ginjirou. Most importantly, so was Sakiko, whom you brushed her problems away like fleas just because she was an elite. Should you go apologize to her? And confront her on what happened that day? You might as well; the two of you were going to practice for the talent show in a few minutes here.
Scratching your head, you pursed your lips and turned towards Namiko once more. "I'm not sure if it's my place to say this, but drop the motherfucking elite title if you need to. A rank four would allow you to graduate, right? It would take stress off and you could focus on enjoying archery, instead of appeasing to it."
His wide gaze on you, he appeared surprised to hear this. Staring at you in total silence for a good minute, his features reflected of something unknown. It made you slightly uncomfortable, but the eye contact would not break. A small, sad smile then occupied his rosy lips, which broke your heart to see. "I would if I could, but alas..." he said, releasing a sigh. "Thank you [Y/N]. Hearing you say that cheered me up a bit. Most people wouldn't have a response like yours."
That was true. They would probably say that he was acting like a spoiled brat, and was taking his status for granted. Blah blah blah. Maybe before meeting him, you would say something similar... but as you continued to run into him, it made you realize that you did not mind his company at all. In another world, he would be considered a friend.
"I'm glad it did," you murmured, eyes distant. Shooting upward from your seat, you gave him a small bow. "Ah! I should get going. I have to meet up with Sakiko and practice for the talent show. See you around?"
"You're performing for the talent show?" he asked, blinking in curiosity.
"Yes, I am! Maybe you'll come and support me?" you said, your cheeks growing a little warm at the request. What the hell were you doing? You were starting to get a little too mushy with these elites. This was the last thing you had wanted from the beginning.
His eyes softening, he nodded. "I'll be there." With that, he turned around and returned to his book.
Exiting the golden glow of the library, you began your route to the music room. That was where Sakiko told you to go, but the problem was... you had never been there. At least she gave you the room number: 117. It was on the first floor.
Flying down the flights of stairs, you reached the bottom and scanned the numbers of the classrooms. On a label, the nearest classroom was said to be 124. To the right, the numbers were growing, while to the left, they were shrinking. Left it was then. Turning the corner, you sped through the halls and kept an eye on the numbers. When 117 came up, you stopped dead in your tracks. It was indeed the music room, because from the outside, the sound of a piano being played was heard.
It was beautiful though. It was so beautiful that you wished to listen through it the entire song. Instead of walking right into the room and interrupt it, you waited there outside of the door, with your back leaned against the wall. The melody was melancholy, filled of both major and minor keys that hit hard. The rhythm flowed like a stream during spring, interweaving within all things life. It gave you a longing you hadn't known you had.
When the song ended, tears prickled from your eyes. Rushing to wipe them with the sleeve of your uniform, you took a wavering breath. Then you pushed the door open, walking into the music room.
The room was large, filled of a variety of instruments in every corner. However, what stood out the most was the sleek, black concert piano in the back, grand and sturdy in its beauty. Everything seemed to zoom into the piano, for it was eye capturing and hard to turn away. And sitting there was Sakiko, her fingers resting on the keys and lost in deep thought.
Her silver irises slowly met yours, before a grin stretched onto her face. "[Y/N]! You're here!" she cheered, eyes flashing in excitement. "I still can't believe you agreed to this. You're seriously the best."
"Oh, don't praise me yet," you said, chuckling. "My singing may make your ears bleed, be warned."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't believe you a single bit. You're going to have the voice of an angel, I know it."
"Well, we'll just have to see who's right." Neither of you were correct, in that aspect. Anyway, should you ask her the haunting question? It was now or never. Nearing the piano when she had beckoned you closer, you glanced down at the massive piano. It was so flawless and clear that your reflection was bouncing off of it. "Hey Sakiko... do you remember that day... when you kind of fainted or something?"
Raising her eyebrows, she stared at you for a few seconds. Confusion was all that was apparent on her face. "What do you mean?" she said, tilting her head to the side. You stilled in place, shocked. Did she not remember anything? Well, she was passed out but... what about before that? Or after? Did her mother fill her in of anything at all?
Stumped, you didn't know what to say. This was a failure already. You couldn't ask her the questions you wished to voice or even apologize for your past insensitivity. "Um... nevermind. I'm sorry. I was mistaken."
Luckily for you, she didn't think much of it. Moving on to the talent show, she filled you in with details for it. It turned out that the talent show was going to take place in three weeks -- the same week your crusty, old man would return home from work. Good fucking grief. If he somehow ended up at the talent show, you were going to sue the world.