The day unfolded exactly as I had expected: boring. Classes changed over with glacial speed. I spent most of my time staring out the window or occasionally doodling in my notebook, while my brain was already outlining a review for the sci-fi movie I'd watched last night.
In the midst of this boredom, Aizawa Nanami remained a shining anomaly. When the math teacher threw a complex calculus problem on the board, she was the first to raise her hand with the correct answer. During English class, her pronunciation was flawless. Every action seemed designed to collect point after point for perfection.
I saw Sasaki Rina lean over and whisper something to her, to which Nanami replied with a faint smile. From my vantage point, they looked like the very picture of ideal friendship.
Lunch break arrived. Kenta, as usual, tried to drag me to the cafeteria, and as usual, I refused with the excuse of wanting to finish my book. He just shrugged and left with his group, leaving me in the solitude I craved.
I opened my lunch box at my empty desk. While eating, I observed the classroom's ecosystem from a distance. My eyes landed on Nanami's group, the social center of gravity in the room. They were laughing, discussing a fashion magazine. Everything seemed normal, until I saw Nanami get up to buy a drink from the vending machine in the hallway.
That's when I heard it.
I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but my desk's position near Rina's group made their conversation audible.
"Look, she's seriously like a model, isn't she?" one of the girls said.
"Of course," Rina replied with a sweet tone. "She's our goddess. But sometimes I feel sorry for her. She must be under so much pressure to always be perfect, especially after that embarrassing incident at the middle school beauty pageant. Just because of a tiny stain on her dress, her confidence was completely shattered on stage."
A few girls chuckled softly. "Ah, I remember that. What a shame."
My heart sank. Praise laced with poison. A reminder of failure disguised as sympathy. I glanced toward the door. Nanami returned with a bottle of tea in her hand. She hadn't heard the conversation, but the very people who had just been discussing her greatest trauma now welcomed her back with smiles, as if nothing had happened.
I quickly focused back on my book, feeling as if I had just witnessed a small crime.
The final school bell rang, releasing us all.
"Arata, let's go to the arcade. There's a new fighting game," Kenta offered, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"Some other time. I have to get home early," I replied, a standard excuse.
"Alright, Mr. Busy." Kenta punched my arm lightly and left.
I walked down the now-emptying hallway. As I passed the staircase, I saw Nanami standing alone, her back to me. She was on the phone. At first, I paid it no mind and kept walking, but then I saw something that made me pause.
Her back, which was always so straight and confident, was now slightly slumped. Her head was bowed. I couldn't hear what the voice on the other end was saying, but I could see Nanami's posture shrink, as if she were bearing an immense, invisible weight.
A few seconds later, she hung up. She stood still for a moment, staring blankly at the wall in front of her. I saw her take a deep breath, and when she turned around, her mask was already back in place. Her face once again wore its usual faint smile, though her eyes seemed a little dimmer than before.
She walked past me without a single glance, as if I were just a part of the hallway wall.
I continued on my way, a strange feeling nagging at my chest. Today, for the first time, I had seen the small cracks behind her goddess-like facade.
I walked home, the evening sky beginning to paint the horizon. My thoughts returned to their usual track. Dinner, the movie review, the novel I hadn't finished. I almost forgot that strange feeling, dismissing it as a fleeting observation.
My steps came to a halt.
At the intersection in front of me, a sound broke the twilight silence. The screech of tires, followed by a sickeningly dull thud.
A dreadful silence. Then screams.
My feet moved on their own, drawn by a morbid curiosity. Pushing through the small crowd that had begun to form, I saw it.
The familiar school uniform. A bag thrown several feet away. And that long brown hair... now splayed across the gray asphalt, a stark contrast to the red stain slowly spreading around it.
Aizawa Nanami.
My world spun. The sounds around me faded into a loud ringing in my ears. My vision narrowed, focusing only on that impossible sight. I felt myself being pulled backward, hurtling through a cold, dark tunnel.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I opened my eyes with a violent jolt. I was gasping for air, cold sweat covering my forehead.
The familiar ceiling of my room. The sound of the alarm from my phone. I reached for it.
The screen displayed the date: Monday, October 22nd.
My heart skipped a beat. No. That... that's today's date. A dream? It must have been just an incredibly vivid nightmare.
I got up, my legs still trembling. I got ready in a daze and stepped outside.
Everything felt normal. Until I saw her.
At the same intersection, Aizawa Nanami was laughing with her friends. Alive. Perfect.
She turned her head in my direction. The exact same flash of hatred.
In that moment, I knew.
This was not a dream. And my terrible day had just begun. Again.