[ apologies for any geological error regarding miyagi, i've never been there sadly :( ] 

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"IN THIS FORMULA, WHAT DOES M REFER TO?"

the math teacher (yes, the elderly one with firm beliefs about discipline) finishes writing and turns away from the blackboard to look expectantly at the class.  

with the exception of a handful, the class ignores the question and continues on with their conversations, already tired of school when the day is only half over.

"class!" the math teacher (i think her name is iko-sensei) instantly snaps, her voice overriding all small conversations. 

with a couple of eye-rolls, the class dutifully but reluctantly concentrates, everyone sitting up straighter and turning away from their friends.

only when it's absolute silence does iko-sensei resume. "in this for-"

ping

iko-sensei stops halfway, her sharp eyes, along with every other student, scanning the class to find the cause of the noise. 

which just so happens to be my phone, buzzing with a message from the tokyo train station.

[ wakara-san, we would like to inform you that due to unexpected weather reasons, your train (from tokyo to miyagi) schedule has changed to leave the station five hours earlier. the train will leave in an hour. sincere apologies, kato-san - receptionist of the tokyo train station. ]

subconsciously, i frown. on bus, it would take forty minutes to the train station and a quick swing by my house. additionally, i would need another fifteen minutes to register my ticket, buy a few snacks for the journey and find the specific train to take.

which means i need to leave school now. 

i stand up and start packing, hurriedly shoving my textbooks, pencil case, phone and water bottle into my backpack when iko-sensei coughs.

right. 

i forgot about her. 

"m refers to the gradient," i tiredly explain, slinging my backpack over my shoulder as i answer her question. "anyways, i need to go."

i start to head towards the door when iko-sensei steps in front of it, hands outstretched protectively as if the door is her baby.

she scowls, her mouth is twitching in what, disgust? probably.

"wakara-san, you can't just leave as you please," iko-sensei scoffs irritably. 

"i need to," i say firmly, not wanting to have a long argument with her. "just let me go, iko-sensei."

"it's ito-sensei," she snaps. i inwardly eyeroll and giggles ripple around the class at this. 

deciding to stick with reason rather than anger, i show her the message from the train station on my phone. "if i don't leave now, i'm going to miss my train." 

"i'm afraid i can't let you leave," she says primly, the corners of her mouth lifting upwards into a smirk. "students are only permitted to leave if they have a signed note from their parents."

her smirk widens and i silently curse her for saying that last sentence even when she, like everyone else, knows my situation with my near-lifeless mother.

"i need to go," i glare at her, but she only smiles mirthlessly.

"i'm sorry, your witchery doesn't work on me anymore," ito-sensei sneers, losing all her maturity as a teacher. 

i take a deep breath.

before tapping into a power of mine that i think should be forbidden. but alas, i can't afford to miss the train. 

i make eye-contact with her and suddenly the present melts away to be replaced with slightly fuzzy flashbacks of ito-sensei's most feared secrets and worst moments. 

stepping forward so that we're next to each other, i drop my voice to a whisper. "my 'witchery' has the power to tell the headmistress that you had an affair with her husband."

she flushes with rage, losing what little dignity and composure she had. i mirror the humorless smile she showed me before. "see you later, iko-sensei."

i walk out the room.

i only make it past half of the third year hallway when i hear the repeated sound of shoes slapped upon tiled floors. 

gokana slows to a halt next to me. "were you just going to leave without saying goodbye to me? aren't we best friends?"

[are we?]

she voices the question i've been asking myself for the past few days, and even in the long time i've struggled to come up with an answer. so i ignore this question and instead say, "i don't have much time. if all you wanted to do is say bye, then goodbye."

i start walking away when she grabs my wrist. 

"i didn't want to say goodbye at all," she admits with no sense of remorse in her eyes. gone is the cheerful childhood friend, lost to the whispers of her friends and the demands of her parents. "i just wanted to remind you that you better video oikawa-kun playing. and don't you dare to look, talk or even think about him in that way. he's mine."

i raise an eyebrow. "are you that insecure that you have to resort to ordering me around as if i'm a tool of some sort? to be honest, i feel insulted that you would think that i would take oikawa-san from you. do you think that i can disregard our friendship as easily as you do? do you...think i'm a monster?"

the shock in her eyes tell me her answer. i wrangle my wrist out of her limp grip, casting one last glare at her.

and i escape this hellhole of school.

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"may i please see your ticket?"

i hand the train ticket to the lady, and after punching a hole in it, she gives it back with a smile. moments pass as she walks away and the train whistle blows.

outside of the train, the plain grey blocks of high rises disappears into a blur. a blur in which blooms of springs soon emerge from, dancing with the wind at the bases of willowy trees as we depart from the city.

tokyo falls behind. 

and in two hours, miyagi will arrive.

miyagi is the only place outside of tokyo i've ever visited. even so, i don't go there much. even during my childhood my parents didn't get along with hajime's parents, my mother leaving miyagi to lead a new life. 

only when i was old enough to go occasionally did i start visiting, never once being accompanied by at least one of my parents. the last time i visited was last year for new years, though i didn't stay for long. 

although my mother strongly advised me not to, i find myself looking forward to going to miyagi every time. even more so today. 

miyagi is a break from the judgmental stares, the whispers, the warnings whispered from parent to child, the flashbacks to that day. and yes, occasionally a passerby from miyagi can tell that there's something supernatural about me. but they, unlike tokyo citizens, merely continue walking without thinking about me and my life for another second. 

and plus, hajime is there in miyagi. since all my trust for gokana has disappeared, the only person i trust now (besides the mysterious caller) is hajime. 

[i don't have any siblings, but if i did, i suspect that our relationship would be similar to the one i have with hajime.]

my mind wanders briefly to the mysterious caller. what would my relationship be? friends? can you be friends with someone you don't know the name of? someone you've only called over the phone?

gokana would've said yes. if i had told her about it, she would've described it as something from the romance movies. 

i subconsciously smile slightly with that thought before contentedly closing my eyes and drifting off to another world of dreams and illusions.

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when i open my eyes, miyagi has arrived. 

with less city buildings, nature has a bigger role here than in tokyo. the trees are noticeably more lusher, a rich emerald green only available in nature. 

the flowers here are much brighter too, with magnificent hues of lilac, gold and the pinkiness that you can only see on sunrises by the sea. they are the bright and enhanced version of the flowers by my house.

clutching my suitcase in my left hand, i make my way out of the now stopped train and into the heart of miyagi's train station (also known as sendai station).

it's surprisingly busy for the middle of a work day, several businessmen and women exiting and entering different trains, accompanied by clusters of students as the school day ends. 

"kichona!"

it's only when i hear him call do i spot hajime, waiting besides a coffee shop, holding two coffee cups.

as i get closer to him he grins, and when i'm next to him he passes me one of the two cups.

"it's black, just how you like it," he says simply. i take it, and for a moment i think we both wonder whether we should hug. then we both ditch the idea since we're not the type to show affection, particularly in such a public place.

"you've grown taller," i note, and we begin walking towards the exit. 

hajime raises an eyebrow. "are you mocking me?"

"no," i blink, remembering how he is slightly touchy on the height topic, considering that he is shorter than most teenagers his age. including me (only by a slight two centimeters, though). then again, i am taller than most girls my age. 

then i smile, slightly mockingly, and drop the icy exterior i've been wearing constantly in school. "maybe."

we exit the train station to be blinded momentarily by the bright afternoon sun. i glance around and realize that hajime's parents aren't waiting for us in a car.

"they both couldn't take time off work today," he explains, as if he could read my mind. "sorry, we'll have to take the bus."

"why don't we walk to your house?" i suddenly ask. "it's a nice day, and your house isn't too far from here. besides, i want to make some detours throughout the city. i want to see what's changed."

"you haven't been gone for that long," hajime replys, slightly surprised at my suggestion. "not much has changed. but sure, let's walk."

we weave our way through the city, stopping by at familiar places like the ice-cream store where my parents first met, the library where my mother used to work as a teenager, the playground which i adored as a child and that pasta restaurant my parents went on for their first date.

here, in miyagi, resides the brightest memories of my parents' brightest times. 

and a few of mine too.

[no wonder my parents grew to hate miyagi.]

we spent an hour wandering around the city and are on the outskirts when hajime remarks, "you've started smiling more."

i'm not surprised that i seem happier to him. leaving tokyo is a breath of fresh air that i desperately needed. 

"did you meet someone?" he asks. "like...someone special to you?"

i hold in my laugh. "of course not. if anything, i lost someone. i'm just happy to be in miyagi. it's way smaller than tokyo, but in a way, i like that."

"i see what you mean," hajime agrees as his eyes sweep back to his city one last time before we're fully in the suburbs. "oh, there's my school."

i glance to the direction he's pointing in. aoba johsai, i remember the name, is quite prestigious coming from a city as small as miyagi. when she was ranting to me about oikawa, gokana did mention that his school had a reputation in not only volleyball but also academics. 

the school buildings reflect that reputation. the outside walls are polished so that the sun gleams off it, as if the school is in the spotlight on stage. golden kanji engraved onto a nameplate are crisp and bold, as if proud to belong to aoba johsai.

two doors to a gym are swung wide open so that i can see even from the other side of the street. a team clad in white and turquoise uniform are practicing sliding on the floor in an effort to keep a ball in play. 

that's when i realize. 

"thanks for skipping practice to welcome me," i say softly, nodding towards hajime. "and look, i know your tournament is in a few days so you can go to practice now if you want. i think i know the way back to your house now anyways."

"no, it's alright," hajime shakes his head. "it would be rude to leave my guest all alone. let's go."

before we start walking again, hajime glances back into the gym, this time, i notice, his eyebrows slightly raised in concern. i glance in that direction again to see that the team had moved from receiving practice to serving.

a boy with swept, dark brown hair and a similar eye colour throws a ball into the air before jumping up and hitting it onto the other side of the net with tremendous force and accuracy. 

wow, i silently observe. then it clicks. "oh, so that's oikawa-san."

"you know him?" hajime asks, raising his eyebrows yet again. 

"not personally," i reply. "gokana's just crazy about him. she asked me to film some of his plays during the upcoming tournament."

"well then," hajime sighs and scratches his head wearily. "i hope that trashcan's injury doesn't bother him that day."

my eyes widen. "he's going to play with a recurring injury?"

"that dumbass always overworks himself," hajime kicks a small rock and we start walking.

for a moment i'm reminded of the person on the other side of the phone, the mysterious caller with hopes and dreams that he can never seem to reach. 

and even though gokana warned me to steer clear of oikawa-san, i briefly wish on the stars that are soon to appear in the sky that both him and the mysterious caller are free of the injuries and obligations that tie them down to the earth and stop them from soaring into the sky to achieve their goals.

then it occurs to me how similar the two are. 

[could they be the same person?]

i drift off into the possibility that belongs to fiction. and then i blink, realizing that the world i'm living in, as far as i know, is non-fiction.

the chances that oikawa-san and the mysterious caller being the same person are ridiculously low. 

and i'm glad for that, because if those two really were the same people, then there would be a never-ending plethora of problems.