—Enough!

Hana awoke with a start, her throat aching and gasping for breath. Her mouth felt extremely dry, and she felt terribly nauseous. Her cheeks were moist, and her heart was beating so fast in her chest that it was painful. The hand she had unconsciously held out to her trembled in front of her wide eyes, and it took her long seconds to realize that she was in her room, in her bed, and that nothing she had just experienced was real.

It was just a nightmare, a bad memory from the past. Nothing more.

Her hand fell limply back on the covers, and the young woman forced herself to take long breaths to calm herself. Her whole body was boiling, but the chills that ran through her body made her feel cold. Every palpitation of her heart hurt horribly. So bad that even breathing became painful. So bad that she would have given anything for it to stop. Right here, right now.

The marble rose to her throat, and for a moment, Hana thought she was going to vomit. She jumped to her feet, her vision blurred. Stars appeared in front of her eyes, and she staggered before finally managing to brace herself against her bedside table. She heard her lamp clatter to the floor, but paid it no mind, rushing as fast as she could into her bathroom. 

Hana turned on the tap and splashed fresh water on her face. Once. Twice. It wasn't enough to wash away her anxiety. So she got rid of her clothes and turned on the shower. Exhausted, she slid against the wall and sat down on the icy tiles. The freezing water burned her skin for long seconds before warming up enough to create a thick mist, similar to the fog in her head.

Hana had lost count of the number of times she'd woken up in a panic after a bad dream. It happened all the time. Rarely so violent. But always so unbearable.

How she hated it when her mind decided to make her relive those moments she would have preferred to forget. Hana hated reliving these memories of the past, seeing the little girl she once was helplessly enduring the expectations placed on her. The pressure was far too intense for someone as fragile as a child.

And even with all her hindsight, even knowing that nothing like that could ever happen to her again, the feeling of not knowing how to breathe when she returned to those memories of yesteryear hadn't gone away.

Her fear was irrational, as was her feeling of going mad with every anxiety attack. But there was nothing she could do, except pray that the awful feeling would pass as soon as possible.

Feeling that her nausea had subsided slightly, Hana turned off the water and painfully extricated herself from the shower cubicle. She didn't even have time to dry off properly when she heard her grandmother shouting from the first floor that she was late. Very late.

As soon as she had buttoned up her blouse, Hana rushed downstairs. Her school bag in one hand, her uniform jacket in the other, the young woman didn't even bother to pack a snack when she found herself already in the driveway of her house, running breathlessly towards her bus stop.

Unfortunately, despite all her efforts, the young woman simply witnessed the departure of her transport.

With her eyes glued to the spot where the silhouette of her bus had just disappeared, Hana dropped to the bench at her stop. Her pointless run had sucked up the last of her meager remaining strength, and now she felt drained of all energy, and slightly overwhelmed by this catastrophic start to the morning.

Hana closed her eyes and took her head in her hands. So close to giving in to her emotions, she felt vulnerable. This feeling of weakness horrified her. She couldn't stand it. She hadn't been raised to be a whiner. What would people say when if they saw her crying like that? If she had to choose, Hana would much rather feel nothing than feel this. It had to stop, calm had to return and...

She needed a cigarette.

Without further consideration, Hana pulled out the pack of blondes she'd hidden in the lining of her bag. There were no witnesses around. And it was better like that, she thought.

Her fingers trembled so much that she had to try several times to get the match to light. But when it finally did, she almost choked, having forgotten how aggressive that particular brand was on her lungs. Dizziness gripped her as her cigarette burned away. But when it died on her lips, the flow of intrusive thoughts finally subsided.

Hana rested her head against the wall of the bus stop, her gaze lost in the last grayish cloud she had just produced. And even when it had dissipated completely, the young woman didn't move an inch, disconnected. She remained like this for a long moment, as motionless as a marble statue. Long enough for the last traces of her crisis to disappear, and long enough for the early May breeze to rustle her bare arms and legs. She could have put on her jacket to protect herself, but the brunette didn't have the motivation. Her eyelids gently closed.

When Hana opened her eyes again, the next bus had just appeared at the end of the street. Half an hour had passed since she had sat on the bench.

The bus doors opened in front of Hana, like an encouragement to come along. She began to think about the fact that if she got on, she'd still be able to make it in time for the end of the first class of the week. English, if her memory wasn't playing tricks on her. She could apologize to her teacher. She could beg him not to tell her grandmother, and maybe he'd agree, since she wasn't a problematic student. She could sweep the accident under the rug. Yet...

Yet, Hana didn't make the slightest move to get up from the bench. For the second time that morning, she watched the shape of the bus disappear over the horizon.

—Aren't you going to school, Hoshino?

Even before turning her tired eyes to the person who had just called out her last name, Hana already knew who it was. The tone of his voice, low and drawling, had left enough of an impression on her that she could recognize him without the slightest effort. This simple fact annoyed her just as much, if not more, than the presence of the young man who had so openly rejected her just a few days ago. If there was one face she didn't want to see, especially during this moment of weakness, it was his.

Akaashi stood a few steps away from her, a cigarette in one hand, his uniform jacket in the other. His school bag hung carelessly over one shoulder, his tie untied, and he had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. The tattoo marking the skin of his right arm was visible, and even though her eyes seemed drawn to it like magnets, Hana forced herself not to dwell on it too much.

—I could ask you the same thing, the young woman finally replied in a weak voice. As far as I know, you've just let the bus pass as well.

Akaashi observed the young woman attentively, immediately detecting that something was amiss. She seemed to have had a restless night, as could be seen from the slightly purplish underside of her eyes. In fact, this was the only color on her face, whose cheeks seemed to have lost their original hue. His face was pale, and his eyes seemed more glassy than usual.

—I hadn't finished my fag, replied the young man, tapping the orange filter of his cigarette.

—What a sense of priorities, ironized Hana, who held back her breath.

An amused chuckle took place on the boy's lips.

—I never go to Monday's first two hours of class, he finally admitted, throwing his cigarette butt to the ground before crushing it under his sole.

Hana had expected him to leave, but against all odds, the young man put his bag on the ground and sat down quietly beside her. And even though she was still a little taken aback, the brunette didn't fail to marvel at his behavior. She found it hard to keep up with him. One day, he was clearly expressing his desire to cut all ties with her, and the next, he was talking to her and acting as if nothing had happened. What's more, he didn't even look stoned - the slight dark circles under his eyes obviously didn't count, since they seemed to be part of his physiognomy. Why was he bothering to make conversation with her? No excuse could reasonably justify what was driving him to act this way.

It was beyond comprehension, and Hana was simply too exhausted to try and come up with a plausible explanation. But even if she gave up racking her brains for the moment, that didn't stop her from casting suspicious glances at him, especially when he leaned forward to rummage through her bag. She watched him carefully, wondering what substance he might have brought with him, but what he pulled out of his bag was beyond the limits of her imagination.

A tangerine.

He had just taken a tangerine out of his bag. No words could describe the surprise Hana felt at this moment, as she stared at him peeling the fruit. And when he handed her half of it, all without even glancing at her, the brunette thought she was dreaming.

When she didn't react, Keisuke finally turned his gaze to Hana. Hana was already watching him, her eyes darting back and forth between the piece of tangerine and his face. He sighed.

—It's only fruit, the boy informed her, his hand still outstretched towards her. I'm sure it goes well with your diet, he grumbled in a low voice.

Still too astonished by this cascade of combinations, each more improbable than the last, Hana didn't even pick up on his last remark.

—Why ? She couldn't help asking.

That simple word meant a lot, but it wasn't difficult for Keisuke to understand what she was referring to. And it was understandable, in a way. Their last conversation hadn't been the most cordial. He hadn't particularly spared her, and his choice of words had perhaps been a little crude. She probably needed to be wary, and he couldn't blame her.

However, she could think whatever she wanted about him. She could even put him in the "asshole" box, he didn't care.  By setting things straight, he was saving them both from a lot of trouble. And if she didn't want to accept that fact, it was the least of her worries.

Nevertheless, asshole or not, he wasn't so selfish as to willfully ignore someone who was on the verge of fainting. For now, that was indeed the impression Hana was giving him, as pale as a terminally ill patient. He suspected hypoglycemia to be - at least partially - the cause of her state, which was why he gave her something to eat. Nothing incredible, just a bit of common sense to avoid being the last person to see her safe and sound.

Too lazy to be a witness, police interrogations seem boring.

—Why do you act like this? Said Hana, a little louder, and it was enough to draw him out of his thoughts.

—What I said the other day is in your interest, he ends up telling her without going through unnecessary details. No offense, but you don't seem to be doing well, he added, throwing her a curious glance this time. You really should eat something.

Without saying another word, Hana accepted the fruit, both disturbed and touched by this attention. It was rare that someone cared for her like this, about a little thing with no great importance, and it was even rarer that someone noticed she had something on the heart. As she grabbed the half he was holding, Hana thought it was ironic that the first person to read her for a long time was this boy. This boy she knew only a week ago and who seemed unable to care for others...

« If I'd known earlier that you were so young, I wouldn't have done anything with you ». The words he had spoken to her suddenly appeared in his mind, and the hope that was beginning to sprout in her being broke down at once. His kindness was not sincere. He must have done it out of pity, that's all.

Hana looked back at the tangerine and realized for the first time that her stomach was starving, despite her throat still slightly tied. But when she put a piece on her tongue, she could not help grimacing slightly at the taste that slipped in her throat. She didn't like citrus. She thought they were too bitter or too sour. She didn't, however, acted like a picky eater and forced herself to chew the rest in silence, just as the young man beside her was doing. When they had finished, Hana spoke again to make conversation.

—How come you're here? I take the bus almost every morning and I've never seen you before.

—I wasn't staying at my place last night, he replied vaguely.

Not at his place? Now that her brain had started functioning again, Hana would have liked him to develop a little more his answer, too abstract to satisfy her curiosity. But he didn't do such thing, since looking up for his lighter seemed far more interesting for him. So even if she didn't like his reply and the multitude of things that it could imply, the student didn't ask him further explanation about it and she kept her speculations in the back of her mind.

—Come, we're going.

Hana gently raised her head, her eyes meeting those already looking at her. For a few seconds, she drowned in the captivating shade of blue of his eyes before remembering that he had asked her a question, and once again, she was rambling.

—I thought we were waiting for the bus, she said as he slipped a new cigarette to his lips.

—The bus passed five minutes ago, he reminded him while exhaling a cloud of gray smoke. If we walk, we'll get there in about twenty minutes. There's no point waiting.

—Oh, yeah, you're right, said the young woman as she rose from the bench. Let's go.

─── ∗∙⋅❀⋅∙∗ ───

Although the trip was unobstructed, this was unfortunately not the case when the two students reached their school. The second hour of class had not yet ended. The schoolyard was deserted, but bad luck for them, the caretaker caught them despite their precautions.

Needless to say, neither the supervisor nor Akaashi had seemed surprised to meet. This kind of scenarios were so frequent that each of them had become accustomed to it. If at first the caretaker still bothered to lecture him, he quickly got tired, and simply sent him straight to the director. And in some cases, it even happened that the caretaker would pretend not to see the young man's late arrival, simply because of the laziness of having to accompany him personally in order to ensure that the student can be punished accordingly.

Except that on that day, it wasn't only Akaashi who was caught off guard, and to maintain his reputation in presence of the young woman he had never seen, the caretaker had spent at least five long minutes to lecture them. And despite the young woman's pleas not to be sent to the director, the caretaker didn't listen.

As a result, the two students were now standing in front of the door of the headmistress, only minutes away from getting lectured a second time. Hana didn't even dare to imagine it. She sighed, stressed out. She had never been caught for trying to sneak in. What would be her punishment? And what would she do if her grandmother found out about this ? All these questions remained in her head.

Akaashi entered without knocking.

—Good morning, madam, he said in a relaxed tone under Hana's bewildered eye.

The girl stretched out like a bow, her mouth half open and her eyes wide open, panicking at the boy's attitude. But he didn't see her, too busy walking around the room as if he were at home.

God, was he trying to make things worse for them?

—Mr. Akaashi, you again?

The director didn't need to lift her head from her paperwork in order to recognize the intruder who had dared to disturb her. Not a week went by without this boy coming to the place. Like the caretaker, it's been a while she got used to it. And because his grades were on the top of the list, she didn't worry much about his lack of punctuality.

—Although you come here too often for my taste, my office is not a mill and I would appreciate it if you knocked before entering, sarcastically stated the headmistress before she raised her head up and finally noticed Hana's presence. Oh ? May I know who are you?

—Hana Hoshino, the young woman said. I'm in first year.

When she heard her name, the adult stood still for a few moments, carefully gauging her. Hana held her gaze and did the same, but she didn't need to look at her for a long time to decide that the director had harmonious features and an appearance which was nothing to envy to anyone. Her hair was beautifully curled on her shoulders, and a pair of red glasses rested on her thin nose. She wore expensive clothes, and the nails she was tapping against the wooden table were well maintained. She looked much younger than her age, for sure.

—Hoshino repeated the director before resting the pen she held between her long, gracious fingers. For him, I don't doubt anymore why he's here, she added, pointing to Akaashi with her chin. But for you, may I ask what is the reason for your presence in my office?

—Uh... the same thing? The brunette stammered with an uncertain voice.

The adult sighted loudly and removed her glasses.

—That makes sense, she replied, crossing her arms on the table, amused and annoyed at the same time. After all, Akaashi knows the way to my office well enough that an escort isn't really necessary, right? She completed by casting an accusatory look at the young man.

—Yes, madam, said the boy, who had already settled in one of the seats opposite the director.

—You give me a headache, the adult admitted, squinting. And besides, you drag others into your nonsense, she bids by letting go against the back of her chair. Hoshino, please have a seat.

The young woman took her place without a word, as straight as an i, doing the best to ignore the inquisitive eyes of the headmistress placed on her. Her gaze was so penetrating that it seemed she could read minds, and for a moment, Hana became afraid that she could. This was the ultimate thing that could make their situation worse.

And he, who clearly doesn't seem to care... 

—So I'm not going to waste my time lecturing you, I let your legal representatives take care of it when they get the letter.

A wave of relief invaded the young woman, understanding that the adult intended to send a simple letter to her home, and not launch an appeal. She had no problem intercepting the envelope, and her grandmother would never know. It was as simple as that.

Hana peeked at the young man sitting to her left. He seemed to be very little affected by what was going on. His head was leaning against the palm of his hand, some strands of his hair sweeping his forehead. And if he had the good idea to lower the sleeves of his shirt in order to hide his tattooed arm, it was not the case of his tie that had completely disappeared. Hana remembered that it was hanging from his neck when they met earlier. She didn't remember seeing him take it off.

Feeling that she was staring at him with a little too much insistence, Akaashi turned his gaze in her direction. He raised one of his eyebrows, silently asking why she was looking at him. As a response, the young woman's anthracite eyes stated at his naked neck, and he could see that she was referring to his stupid tie, which was for nothing but choking him all day long. He shrugged, indifferent. Today, he had decided that it was too hot and he would not put it back.

Their small silent discussion didn't go unnoticed by the director, but she made no comment on it, amused by what was unfolding before her eyes. She didn't know the two of them knew each other.

—I'm really bothered, the director said, sighing loudly. I've already used all the ideas of detention that I had listed, and I don't know what to invent.

—Copy a part of the dictionary, you haven't yet made me do it this year, suggested Akaashi in a calm tone as he watched the birds through the window.

For God's sake, did this boy know no bounds? Hana couldn't believe it. Was he really negotiating his detention? Amano had told her that the headmistress was a hardworking woman who didn't like being disrespected, and yet she let Akaashi act so carelessly.

—It's a basic and boring punishment, the adult cut with a hint of amusement in her voice. I'm sure I can find better... And I doubt that Hoshino can afford to spend an entire evening as being a scribe instead of skating...

Oh, Hana would have loved the ground to open under her feet and swallow her forever...

—Tell me, miss, when do you not have your training? Asked the director in a soft voice.

—On Wednesdays, Hana replied without hesitation.

—Then you'll both go and help the librarian put the books back on shelves on Wednesday after class. He won't be against a little help.

—Madam, I have baseball on Wednesday, said Akaashi after he witnessed this unfair favoritism.

The adult gave him a blasted look.

—Well, you should thank me, responded the adult with a sarcastic tone. I just gave you a valid excuse to arrive late at your club, explained the headmistress before putting her glasses back on her nose. I have work to do. Go back to class and don't get caught again. Especially you, she added, staring at the boy. Clear?

When she left the principal's office, Hana couldn't determine whether it had gone well or not, and Akaashi's unwavering behavior played a big part into making her confused.

Sigh. She should have stayed in bed this morning.