5. Late
Even after my sparring match with that guy, club activities continued. By the time I'd flipped a few club members onto their backs and the club captain had invited me to compete about five times, it was already well past seven in the evening.
On my way home, I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked down a dim residential alley as the streetlights flickered on one by one. I glared at the status window floating in front of me.
[ You will be conquered in 100 days. ]
[ Time remaining: D-99 ]
[ Current Fall Progress: 3% ]
I'd definitely won fair and square. I'd overcome the difference in weight class with technique, tossed him onto the mat, and even gotten him to admit that he'd learned something from me.
So why had my Fall Progress gone up by another 1%?
"Haah... This is hard."
Even after I sighed, the tightness in my chest refused to ease. Stupid-ass status window. Would it kill the thing to explain itself a little?
I shoved my hands into my pockets and trudged along, beginning to calmly review the mechanics of this goddamn status window.
There was a good chance the outcome didn't matter at all. I'd just made up my own theory that if I beat him, I'd have the upper hand and my progress wouldn't increase.
It had definitely said 'Close Contact Event Occurred'... Come to think of it, I'd touched him on the rooftop stairs, too. Could it be that the number went up simply in response to the act of making physical contact?
If the dumb status window recognized that I was 'being conquered' the moment I touched him...
Then I'd eliminate physical contact altogether. In the classroom or the dojo, I'd be thorough about it. Honestly, I'd only sparred with him because the club captain asked me to. Otherwise, I wouldn't have even spoken to him. From now on, I'd absolutely refuse. Refuse.
If I tried it at least once, I'd be able to figure out for sure whether physical contact was the cause of the increase. With a grim expression, I headed home.
**
The next morning.
Maybe it was because I'd spent the night tossing and turning over the status window and that Golden-Tanned Delinquent. I woke up later than usual, rushed out of the house, and started running as fast as I could.
"Shit, this is cutting it close..."
Just as I came panting around the corner by the school gate, I spotted that obnoxious yellow-haired head strolling leisurely in the distance down the alley.
Kurosawa Ren.
I hurriedly ducked out of sight in a corner and muttered to myself.
"Jesus... If we run into each other, he'll start yapping at me again..."
And then the status window was sure to go haywire.
I quietly hid on the opposite side of the alley from the direction he was approaching. It was a keep-your-distance strategy: wait until he went in first, then follow him at a leisurely pace.
...The problem was that he didn't go straight through the school gate. Before he reached the alley, he pulled out a cigarette, stuck it in his mouth, and started smoking. Because of course he was a delinquent, a problem student, a piece of trash, and a punk.
As expected, he was a hopeless case as an academy student.
He leisurely wiped his hands, swished some mouthwash around and spat it out, then continued on at an easy pace. I took out my phone to check the time. 8:39 a.m... Shit, I'm actually going to be late at this rate! Why was he taking his sweet time?
I watched him, tapping my feet anxiously. When it finally seemed like I'd be late too if I kept this up, I dashed out to pass him quickly.
Clank.
"Huh?"
The gym teacher slammed the school gate shut.
"Hey! You two over there! Stop."
My feet and the Golden-Tanned Delinquent's came to a simultaneous halt. The gym teacher clicked his tongue and came over, pointing at us in turn with a back scratcher.
"Nishino. Late again? And you've got the transfer student with you, too. The two Judo Club members are late as a pair. Were you two hanging out together and lost track of time?"
"Teach! That's not it. That guy... I mean, I don't know him. Besides, I haven't been late lately...!"
"You're late today, aren't you, kid? And I know you're in the same class. Don't pretend you don't know each other... Hold out your hands."
While I waved my hands and pleaded my case, the Golden-Tanned Delinquent, standing beside me with one leg cocked, glanced my way and grinned. Then he shamelessly spoke to the gym teacher, pretending to stick up for me.
"Sensei, Yuka was late because she was showing me the way. As you know, I haven't been at this school long, so she's been helping me out in all sorts of ways."
"What? Hey, you little psycho—!"
I yelled in disbelief as he called me by my name and shamelessly made up a lie. But the gym teacher withdrew his back scratcher and laughed warmly, looking pleased.
"What, so that's what happened? That's nice to see. I'll let you off the hook for your palms, then. But late is still late. You two can stay after school and clean the equipment shed properly before you go home. If you try to sneak off halfway through, you'll be doing double tomorrow. Got it?"
"Yes, sir."
"Aw, teach!"
Seriously, nothing ever goes my way.
**
"Heyyy, Yuka-chan. Late again, huhhh?"
"Yeah, yeah."
In the end, I walked into the classroom that morning with an unfair latecomer's mark already attached to me. Homeroom was over, then. I gave a perfunctory greeting to Michiru, who was chattering away, and Reika, who only gave a sleepy-looking nod. Then, when the bell rang, I went to my seat in the back.
To practice social distancing from him, I'd subtly shifted my chair toward the window as soon as I entered the classroom. A snicker came from beside me, followed by an unpleasant voice.
"No need to thank me."
"..."
Oh, sure. As if I'd been planning to. I hadn't even asked him to stick up for me. He'd stuck his nose in where it didn't belong all by himself. All it would've taken was a few smacks on the palms. No need to make a big deal out of it.
He started pestering me again, and I gazed out the window, pretending not to hear him.
"By the way, Yuka, why were you hanging around outside this morning? I saw you twitching behind the alley."
You bastard. Did he deliberately take his time just to mess with me?
"Don't c-call me Yuka...?"
I glared at him with my chin propped on my hand. I'd been planning to keep ignoring him, but I couldn't stand him calling me by my first name like we were close.
"Oh, you answered. This works pretty well. I'll call you by your name from now on, then."
God, what a pain.
That whole day, he kept pestering me until I thought I'd lose my mind.
It got so bad that I went to the bathroom with Michiru and Reika every break just to avoid him. I still couldn't understand the whole girl thing of going to the bathroom together while holding hands, though.
And when the class rep came over to check on me because my face had been sour all day, the Golden-Tanned Delinquent started flirting with her, making her blush. It was a truly ridiculous sight.
Haah. I'm exhausted...
**
After school, in the equipment shed, where dust had settled in layer upon layer.
The moment we were shut in there alone, in a place with a slightly musty smell, I gripped a mop handle in both hands like a spear and pointed it at him.
"Hey, Kurosawa. Listen up."
He'd been opening a window, but at my shout he turned around at his leisure. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"What is it, Yuka?"
"Shit, I told you not to call me Yuka... You. Sweep and mop the floor in that corner over there. I'll move the boxes and dust the shelves! If you even set foot within a one-meter radius of me, I'll crack your skull with this mop."
"I even gave you a late-pass this morning, and you're still so cold."
I jabbed the mop at him again, threatening him as he tried to sidle closer.
"I never asked you to, you bastard! And you were late on purpose. I said stay away! Stop sneaking your hand over to touch my hair. That's disgusting!"
I left him behind as he shrugged and started sweeping the floor, dunked the mop in the water bucket, and started dusting a shelf covered in a thick layer of grime. Cough, cough. Ugh, nobody's touched this place in ages.
After cleaning in earnest for a while, I glanced at him and found that, surprisingly, he didn't seem to have any plans to try anything with me. He just looked in my direction as if he'd found some amusing spectacle, lazily swishing a rag across the floor with one hand.
He's doing a fucking terrible job. What a punk.
"Hey, Yuka, are you deliberately leaving the dust on top of that high shelf?"
"Hmph. I'll handle it myself, so mind your own buuusiness...?"
I rose onto my tiptoes and stretched my duster toward the top of the shelf, but with a schoolgirl's body, I couldn't reach. As I strained to get up there somehow—
Swoosh.
Suddenly, a dark shadow fell over me from behind.
"You're so tiny, and still trying so hard."
"Uh...?!"
He'd somehow picked up a broom and come over, stretching his long arm above my head. He wasn't touching me, but the way his upper body pressed in behind me made it seem like he was pinning me against the wall in an embrace.
I remembered what had happened on the rooftop stairs a few days earlier. His body heat was faintly perceptible, and the subtle smell of sweat seemed to suffocate me.
"Hey, hey! I told you to stay away!"
Startled, I clumsily tried to slip sideways out of there, but I pulled my foot back too hastily and tripped over the mop bucket in the corner. If I touched him now, I wouldn't be able to run the test...!
"Ah...!"
The moment I lost my balance and started to fall backward, I instinctively looked at him. If he grabbed my arm again in an attempt to catch me, or touched me in some other way, my Fall Progress would...
But instead of reaching out to help, he crookedly raised the corner of his mouth in a smirk, took a step back, and folded his arms. He had the obnoxious look of someone saying, 'You told me not to come near you, remember?' He didn't so much as lay a finger on me. A perfect display of indifference.
Crash!
Thanks to him, I landed flat on my ass on the floor of the equipment shed. And to top it off, the spilled water bucket had soaked my skirt and underwear.
"Keck..."
"I didn't even touch you. Why'd you fall over all by yourself? Are you trying to do a comedy routine?"
He looked down at me and laughed. What an infuriating bastard...!
"Ow. You... son of a bitch..."
It hurt. At least I hadn't come into direct contact with him. But this was just me beating the drum, dancing to the tune, and even getting ahead of myself...
My face burned with pain and humiliation. I sat there on the floor, unable to lift my head for a while.
**
"Good work, Yuka. See you tomorrow."
Once the cleaning was done, he waved casually and left the shed ahead of me. He was probably going to his club activities.
Left alone in the shed, I steadied my slightly ragged breathing. All day long, I'd succeeded in preventing physical contact with him 100% of the time. Not once had our skin touched, and we hadn't even brushed sleeves.
Things had gotten a little dicey just now... But still, taking a good fall was better than touching him, right? Mm. My bruised butt throbbed.
I breathed a sigh of relief and checked the status window.
[ You will be conquered in 100 days. ]
[ Time remaining: D-99 ]
[ Current Fall Progress: 4% (+1%) ]
"...Ha."
The number that should've stayed frozen at 3% had gone up to 4%.
I hadn't touched even a fingertip of his all day. Forget touching him—I'd just kept my distance and stayed on guard. During class, whenever I looked out the window, he'd subtly start talking to me and try to touch my hair, so all I'd done was swat his hand away with a rolled-up textbook.
I'd even thrown myself onto the floor during cleaning just now to avoid contact with him at all costs.
Which meant physical contact itself wasn't the cause...
'Then what the hell is making it go up...?'
Every guess I'd made was back to square one. I could only stare blankly at the status window.