Chapter Five

The Grays in Black and White

Matsuoka Rin’s Point of View

            Resting the back of my hand against my forehead, I let my thoughts course free throughout my mind. A girl, so far, yet so near. Why was she constantly in my mind? She was just one mere person. She shouldn’t have been so . . . so . . . close in my mind. What were these feelings I were feeling internally? Why were they even there?

            I placed my earphones at my ear and played soft, moving piano music. I rubbed my forehead in an attempt to soothe my headache. I didn’t even know her family name. She felt so . . . familiar.

            “Familiar . . .”

            “Yo, Rin!” Nitori called my name loudly.

            I sighed. I couldn’t get a moment of peace in my life, now could I?

            “Yes?” I replied unwantingly.

            “It’s time for dinner!” he jumped up and down excitedly. “All the girls from Takahashi Academy are going to be there!”

            I rose with a start. If all the girls from Takahashi Academy were going to be present at dinner, then that must mean that . . . she would be there.

            I quickly grabbed my coat and put it on while I ran down the halls to the main lobby of the guest dorms. My burgundy hair was frilly and messy, but that was beside the point. I was going to meet her again, and I was not going to let that chance slip by.

Tsukuda Kiyomi’s Point of View

            I sighed as I skimmed through the selection of books in the library. Nothing interesting was there anymore. Every single good book had already been zipped through and read to the core. There were a few books about airplanes, but they were so factual, they didn’t really interest me.

            Aisle through aisle, I slid past through in search of a miraculous book I could call ‘mine.’

            “Dinner will be served in the mess hall in five minutes,”  the intercom sounded in a graceful tone. “Students should now all be entering the mess hall for dinner unless otherwise granted permission by an administrator.”

            I lightly bumped my head against the bookshelf I was leaning on. I didn’t have much more time to find and check out a good book to read. I drew in another breath before shuffling my feet towards one of the librarians to ask if I could stay a little longer.

            “Would you mind if I stay another ten minutes here in the library?” I asked her. “I would really like to find another good book to read tonight after my homework and such.”

            The woman in about her fifties smiled at me, “Of course, but do remember that dinner will already be served by then.”

            “Of course, I don’t want to keep you from dinner, so are you sure it’s alright?” I asked once again to ensure that she wouldn’t be skipping out on the early parts of dinner break as well.

            She waved it off, “It’s fine. It’s you whom I am worried about. I simply do not want to keep yourself from dinner.”

            I smiled at her before saying, “Thank you very much.”

            I gave her a slight bow before speed-walking past the various shelves in teen fiction. This week, instead of the scientific and mathematical books I was reading during the previous week, I decided to read a romantic teen fiction book. Romance wasn’t really my thing, though I wouldn’t mind to have a little more hindsight into the latter. A girl should be adept in all aspects of life—education, life, love, and dreams. That sounded quite dumb, but that wasn’t the matter at hand. The matter at hand now was finding a good romantic book to read for the day, and I must say that it was difficult.

            I didn’t exactly want a helpless adult woman who couldn’t do anything get saved by a handsome, young and attractive prince. No, that was way to mainstream—too princess-y. I wanted a novel where a decent girl fell in love with her best friend or maybe even a studious girl falling in love with a bad boy, I wouldn’t mind that either, just as long as it wasn’t that the girl was as helpless as a rag doll.

            I scanned the shelves, picking out books one by one and zipping through their summaries that were buried under their covers. I found some novels too short and others tagged too ‘princess-y.’ There was no legitimate Japanese novel I could ever find decent, well, aside from the manga, but plain books themselves had their own meaning to things. Manga had their pictures, describing the scene in their own epic and universal manner. Books, on the other hand, had their way of explaining scenes, backgrounds, and people in their own ways as well—each word compensating a new and vigorous aspect of each and every little detail imaginable. That was what I admired about authors. They could describe anything they wanted in the way that they wanted. It was like describing a dream of their dreams.

            I chuckled to myself. I was getting too carried away.

            After minutes upon minutes of searching for a good book to delve in for the night, I finally came across one that sparked my interest. It was about an extremely smart girl, in high school, who had never fallen in love. However, one day, she met a young man who was not only ingenious, he was popular and got the highest grades in the entire history of the school. He was a prodigy in not only academics, but in sports as well. Let’s just say that I have a thing for bishonen.

            I then brought the book to the librarian, who gave me a light smile.

            “Finally found what you were looking for?” she asked as she checked out the book for me. “What is your student ID?”

            “Yes, and it’s 1636215,” I responded with a smile as well, returning the kind gesture.

            “Thanks for visiting the library,” she gave me another warm smile before I exited the library, my stomach growling at me for some sustenance, and to the mess hall to shush my angering appetite.

Matsuoka Rin’s Point of View

            In line to get my dinner, I passed by the rows of food, scooping up a dish here and there onto my plate. Before long, my plate was full enough to fill my stomach. I had a side of jasmine rice, a side of grilled salmon, a side of asparagus, a side of tuna sushi, and a glass of water, before I sat down beside Nitori at the center of the hall.

            I scanned about the room before eating the food on my plate. She wasn’t anywhere to be found. I sighed once again. This mess hall was too crowded for words to even describe.

            “Are you looking for somebody?” Nitori asked beside me, arching an eyebrow.

            “No,” I replied simply before sitting down and taking a bite of my food.

            “You sure?” he questioned again.

            “Yeah, I’m sure,” I replied, though I knew it was a lie.

Tsukuda Kiyomi’s Point of View

            I entered the mess hall with my book in hand. I rushed to get a plate at the end of the dinner line and selected myself a few sides from the dishes offered. After selecting a side of grilled salmon sushi, some brown rice, and a side of marinated spinach, I sat down at an edge of the mess hall and began eating as I read the novel I just received from the library.

            Since we weren’t exactly assigned any homework given the fact that the Samezuka boys were invited for the time being.

            After another minute of pondering and filling my grumbling stomach, I began delving into the contents of the novel. The summary of the book was not the only thing that sparked my interest, it was also the title—Sometimes.  There were endless possibilities for a title entitled so. Think about it, sometimes love will overcome you, and sometimes it won’t. It’s simply the life cycle that is taken in place that counts.

            I heard someone sit next to me, but I ignored whoever it was, instead starting to read the preface of the story.

Preface

            I never thought I would ever fall in love. Maybe it was that everyone thought I was so cold and serious. Maybe it was the fact that I was too absorbed into my studies to even noticed whether or not someone even liked me. But, sometimes, you’ve just got to take a breather from life, not think about others or what your parents expect from you, and breathe. It’s that sometime where you have to think about yourself—selfish but not too selfish. And it’s sometimes . . . that I wish I were more absorbed into the outside world than that of the inner. Just . . . sometimes.

            I must admit. It wasn’t a shabby preface. In fact, it actually intrigued me much more than I thought it would. I re-read the paragraph once more to have a deeper feel for the topic.

            However, midway through the book, I heard the person who was sitting beside me ask, “So what’s your name?”

            I glanced at the person residing next to me. I drew in a breath. Rin.

            Acting casually as if I didn’t know who he was, I answered his question, “You can call me Kiyomi.”

            He arched an eyebrow, “Weren’t you the guide for Samezuka today?”

            I nodded my head hesitantly, “Yeah . . . I was.”

            “Name’s Rin,” he extended his hand for me to shake.

            “Nice to meet you,” I replied shortly shaking his hand.

            Our hands were intertwined longer than it should have, and our gazes were locked against each other. After a moment of doing so, we let go, and I tore away from his gaze and onto my food, taking another bite out of my spinach.

            An awkward silence resided between us, as it was then that I knew that he definitely forgot who I was.

            I didn’t make any attempt to resume our lost conversation, and, though he looked like he wanted to resume so, he seemed like he didn’t know how, so I filled that gap for him.

            “So . . . did you need something?” I asked him warily, before mentally knocking myself out for the weird phrasing of the question. Really, that sounded as if I didn’t want him next to me.

            He exhaled a breath, “Truth be told . . . You look very familiar, but I can’t put my finger on how.”

            I chuckled, “You do to me too.”

            However, there was a difference. He didn’t know who I was, but I, on the other hand, knew him.

            “Do you swim?” he asked me, before he noticed my sudden jolt, confirming his question. “So you do.”

            “Yeah,” I answered. “I do.”

            Rin put a fist in his hair, rubbing his scalp in annoyance as he couldn’t figure it out.

            “Your food’s getting cold,” I pointed out to him as I continued to eat my plate.

            “Thanks,” he replied before he took another mouthful of his sushi.

            I looked the opposite direction from him and smiled. He had no idea at all.

            “Say, do you swim competitively?” he asked me another question.

            “Yeah, I do,” I replied simply.

            “Do you know who I am, then?” he asked me another question yet again. “Because I have this gut feeling that you do.”

            I contained my uprising smile. He was more talkative to me than I saw him with any other person, well, maybe not my brother.

            I finished the last bits of my plate, chewed, and swallowed, before answering, “Yeah, I know.”

            He arched an eyebrow, “Do tell me.”

            I rose up from my seat before saying, “Deep down, I think you know.”

            He bit his bottom lip in frustration, “A hint, then.”

            Picking up my tray and the plate to place away in its proper place, I gave him the hint he wanted, “Bye, Rin-Rin.”

            Before he could say anything else, I quickly absorbed myself through the mass of people lined up to put their plates away, but I knew that hint was enough for him to realize who I was—enough to fill the shady grays in the definitive black and whites.