Chapter 3 - Eiji HoshinoMonday, October 16thCalculus, like success, is simply a matter of confidence.

  Do you know what you want? Are you sure you’re going to get it? Are you willing to employ any means necessary? Use every trick in the book, every tool in the box?

  You can practice and practice all you want, but it’s absolutely useless if there’s no solid foundation of self-belief to begin with. When shit hits the fan, you’re the only person you can count on.

  At least, that’s what I told myself as my head bobbed from textbook to notebook, my fingers weaving their way against the uneasy currents of differentiation, integration, and vector calculus.

  Eventually, I had to release the sigh I’d been building up. Rusuban had kept me waiting once again.

  Despite being our second year rep, punctuality seemingly wasn’t one of his strong suits, especially when it came to our library study sessions. By now, I’d simply learnt to get started on my lonesome if I had any hope of getting things done.

  He’d come strolling in some five, ten minutes te rattling off any old excuse about council duty this, or lowercssmen that. I’d long stopped trying to deduce whether he was lying to me or not, it really didn’t matter.

  What did matter was that my time was being wasted.

  So when Rusuban fell breezily into his seat opposite my own across the table, a good half hour en retard, I was just about ready to make my way over to Saki’s house to get some actual work done.

  “Hoshino, I-“

  I held up my palm.

  “Save it, rep. It’s clear these study sessions aren’t all that important to you. Why don’t we just call it quits while we’re ahead?” I asked, filtering my voice of any and all hints of emotion. “I’m sure you can find someone else who better suits your schedule, no?”

  “My apologies, Hoshino!” he admitted, putting on those silky sycophantic tones that had the first years practically drooling over him. “I know there’s no excuse for my behaviour, but…”

  I felt something settle gently on my left shoulder. My spine shuddered.

  “Let’s not overreact, now, hm…?” he advised. I thought there had been the slightest edge in his voice I had never heard before, though it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

  I took a sharp breath before speaking. His hand hadn’t moved.

  “Get your mitts off me and maybe I’ll raincheck round housing that pretty face of yours,” I threatened, though if his chuckles were anything to go by, it didn’t register as one.

  “My, my. I see the Golden Tiger’s fangs are as sharp as ever.” he snarked, before relenting and retracting his arm. “I’ll have you know physical touch is one of my love nguages.”

  “And punctuality’s one of mine,” I retorted automatically. “Look – I can’t keep reminding you about this. If you’re gonna ask me to help you study, least you could do is show up on time. Yes? No?”

  In response to my admonishment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed.

  “You have a point – as our representative, I should be making a greater effort to be prompt in my appearances. I’ll endeavour to make an improvement, Hoshino-san.”

  I couldn’t help but recoil.

  “I asked for a yes or no, not a monologue. Whatever. We’re going over chapter 10.”

  “So, Hoshino,” Rusuban began randomly, splintering my hard-cultivated focus. “How do you feel about Nakamura and that first year getting together?”

  It was in moments like these that I seriously began to question how much I really needed the ‘study buddy to the student council representative’ boost to my college application.

  “What about Nakamura?” I asked, opting to get straight to the heart of the matter. Ever since Ayumi’s dumb prediction, I’ve had to speak this jackass’ name a few times too many.

  Rusuban held up his palms in innocence.

  “I- well, I just thought…” he trailed off.

  “What, that I have a thing for that goril?” I sighed. “As if. Maybe when he manages to actually beat me at something instead of compining about me to his cronies all the time, I’ll register him as an actual human being. As of right now, he’s just entertainment.”

  In fact, one such sidekick of Nakamura’s was situated a few seats down from us – the orange-haired, cheerful looking one that always seemed to stand at the back, as if scared of coming to the forefront of their failed circus troupe.

  He was grappling with a particurly difficult problem, it seemed, if his intense stare at the textbook before him was any indication.

  Back to the nuisance at hand, perhaps I had been too harsh in my tirade, as for the first time since the invention of sliced bread, Rusuban was speechless. I shrugged.

  “…soooo, you’re indifferent about the whole affair?” he verified tentatively. “I’ve heard the girl he’s with is pretty popur among the first years. It’s completely okay if you’re-“

  My hand had found the hardcover of the textbook, pushing it down and smming the tome shut. I don’t know why I agreed to this.

  “Listen, I’m done for the day.” I decred, as monotonal as I could manage, clearing the space of my personal effects.. “Keep working on the bonus question. If you have too much trouble, look at the solution, note it down, and we can go over it tomorrow.”

  “W-wait, just-“

  I was already out of the door by the time Rusuban started mouthing his useless apologies. I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders.

  I’ve always loved walking through Shibuya at this time, drinking in that gentle evening hustle and bustle of trains whizzing past in the distance, pedestrians speeding their way to this pce and that, eager to savour the few hours of free time away from responsibility they’re rationed each day.

  Today, however, I found myself in no particur rush, content to sway to and fro, wherever the wind carried me. I couldn’t help but think that the ter I arrived home, the better.

  I was stood at the small shopping square underneath 104, eying a cute pair of sneakers that would go great with my wardrobe when I noticed the outline of another person, stood erect behind me, gring back at me in the store window’s reflection.

  After confirming it wasn’t a figment of my imagination, I turned around slowly.

  “Can I help you?” I began, more impatiently than pnned, eyes fixed on the shorter girl in front of me, dressed stylishly in a denim jacket, white undershirt, fresh ripped jeans and a comfy looking pair of sneakers.

  On her handbag strap y a familiar looking dark purple pin, the same design as the one I’d found in my locker this morning. The image on hers was different, though – some kind of zigzag pattern the same bold shade of blue as her long hair, appearing akin to a bolt of lightning.

  It took me a few beats to remember exactly who she was.

  “I like this store too,” Junko began breezily, as if I’d said nothing. “It’s called Joli Becot. French. My best friend, Emiko, bought some fts from here, and they look stunning.”

  “Cut the shit,” I replied sternly. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be frolicking in a meadow somewhere with your boyfriend?”

  Her smile then became so sickeningly sweet it was borderline terrifying.

  “Now, now,” she chided, unfazed. Between herself and Rusuban, I was beginning to think I’d lost my edge. “Just because Ryota chose me doesn’t mean the two of us still can’t be friends, you know? After all, there’s nothing more tragic than to see such a pretty girl wallow in jealousy.”

  Just who the fuck did she think she was?

  “You sound awfully happy for someone dating a literal zoo animal,” I rebutted, bile seeping into my enunciation. “Be sure to feed him his bananas, or we’ll be getting the next instalment of King Kong faster than expected.”

  Without warning, she began to ugh- no, cackle in a manner so haughty and ostentatious I truly had to wonder whether she was the reincarnation of a 1960’s housewife.

  “It’s unbecoming of a girl to speak so crudely,” she began soon after. “Perhaps work on your speech patterns is in order, lest you chase off another potential suitor ~”

  By the time I had organized a witty reply, Junko had vanished into the sea of passersby, the only evidence of her ever having been here the anger fred in my chest, the fury trembling in my fists.

  She won this time. I wouldn’t be heading home for a long while yet.