The second day of the term began with a heavy, humid atmosphere that promised rain but delivered only a stifling stillness. For Ryder, the stillness was internal—a calm-before-the-storm sensation as he settled into his desk. He took a deep breath, adjusting his collar, and mentally braced himself for the gravitational pull that was Aharee Ren.
She was already there.
Aharee sat like a porcelain doll, her white hair shimmering under the fluorescent lights. She didn't acknowledge his arrival with a look or a wave. Instead, she was staring intensely at a small, triangular rice ball—an onigiri—on her desk. She wasn't eating it; she was observing it, as if waiting for the seaweed to reveal the secrets of the universe.
Ryder cleared his throat. He wanted to be a good neighbor. A normal neighbor. "Morning, Aharee-san."
Aharee's head didn't turn. It tilted. It was that same owl-like movement from yesterday. Her lips moved.
Ryder leaned in. "Sorry, what was that?"
She moved again. The 'teleportation' happened. One second she was leaning back, the next, her forehead was practically touching his shoulder. Her lips moved again, a tiny flutter of pink.
Silence. Absolute, crushing silence.
'Wait,' Ryder's brain ignited. 'I saw her lips move. I felt the air vibrate near my ear. But there was no sound. Is she… a ventriloquist? Is she speaking in a frequency only accessible to canines? Or perhaps—' His eyes widened as his imagination took a sharp turn into a dark alleyway. 'Has she been cursed? Is there a literal ghost stealing her words before they reach my ears? Is she trying to warn me about a silent assassin in the hallway?!'
He leaned in further, his large frame looming over her tiny one. "I can't hear you, Aharee-san. Could you say that again? A bit louder?"
Aharee took a deep breath. He could see her small chest expand. She looked determined. She opened her mouth wide—not quite a shout, more like a silent opera singer—and whispered.
It was a sound like a single grain of sand hitting a silk pillow.
"....p...f...."
Ryder felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. 'P-F? What is P-F? Phosphorus and Fluorine? Is she a secret chemist? Or is it a code? "Protect the Fortress"? Is the classroom under siege? I need to check the perimeter.' He glanced nervously at the door, half-expecting a SWAT team to burst in.
"Aharee-san, I'm really sorry, but I still got nothing. Zero decibels."
Aharee didn't look frustrated. She looked… thoughtful. She reached into her school bag and pulled out a small, electronic device. It was a handheld translator, the kind tourists use. She typed something with lightning speed—her fingers moving so fast they were a blur—and pressed 'Play'.
A mechanical, robotic female voice filled the small space between them: "I... L-I-K-E... Y-O-U-R... T-I-E."
Ryder froze. His heart did a frantic somersault against his ribs. 'She... she likes my tie? No, wait. The machine said "I like your tie." Is that a confession? We've known each other for twenty-four hours! Is this a fast-track romance? Is she an AI in a human body trying to learn the concept of love through neckwear?!'
His face turned a shade of crimson that rivaled a ripe tomato. "Oh... uh, thanks. It's just a standard school tie, though."
Aharee looked at the tie. Then she looked at the translator. She typed again.
"I... M-E-A-N-T... T-H-E... T-R-I-G-L-Y-C-E-R-I-D-E-S."
Ryder stared. "The what?"
"S-O-R-R-Y... A-U-T-O-C-O-R-R-E-C-T... I... M-E-A-N-T... T-H-E... T-E-X-T-U-R-E."
'Texture? She likes the texture of my tie?' Ryder felt his sanity slipping away. Before he could respond, Aharee reached out.
She didn't just touch the tie. She grabbed it. Because she had no concept of distance, she didn't realize that pulling the tie meant pulling Ryder. He was yanked forward, his face inches from hers once again.
He could see the individual silver strands of her blunt bangs. He could see the absolute sincerity in her green eyes. She was rubbing the silk of his tie between her fingers with the intensity of a master tailor.
"....s...f...." she breathed.
"Soft?" Ryder guessed, his voice squeaking in a way he would later deny.
Aharee nodded solemnly. Then, she let go. Ryder recoiled like a released rubber band, hitting the back of his chair with a clack.
'She is dangerous,' Ryder concluded, trying to steady his breathing. 'Her voice is a stealth weapon. Her lack of distance is a tactical maneuver. And her interest in textiles is... confusingly adorable.'
The teacher, Mr. Sato, walked in, slamming his books on the podium. "Alright, everyone, settle down. Open your English textbooks to page forty-two."
Ryder tried to focus, but he was acutely aware of the tiny girl next to him. She had finished her rice ball observation and was now staring at his ear. Just staring.
'Why is she looking at my ear? Is there a bug? A smudge? Or is she planning to whisper a secret directly into my brain? I have to be ready. I must hone my senses. I must become... The Listener.'
He spent the next forty-five minutes straining his hearing so hard he could hear the ants crawling in the floorboards. Every time Aharee shifted her weight, Ryder flinched. Every time she turned a page, he analyzed the sound for hidden messages.
Finally, during a quiet moment while the class was doing a writing exercise, he felt a light tap on his arm. It was like the touch of a feather.
He turned. Aharee was leaning so far into his space that she was practically sitting on the edge of his chair.
"....y....r....n....o...k...?"
Ryder closed his eyes, concentrating with the intensity of a Zen monk. 'Y... R... N... O... K. You are not okay? No. You are okay?'
"Am I okay?" he whispered back.
Aharee nodded. She pointed to his forehead, which was covered in a thick layer of exertion-sweat from trying to hear her.
"I'm fine!" Ryder hissed, his face heating up again. "I'm just... intensely focused on the grammar!"
Aharee didn't look convinced. She reached into her bag again—it was like a magical portal of random items—and pulled out a single, moist towelette. She unwrapped it with agonizing slowness, the crinkle-crinkle of the plastic sounding like a landslide in the quiet room.
Then, without warning, she reached up and began to dab his forehead.
The classroom froze. Or at least, Ryder's world did. He could feel the cool moisture of the towelette, and the warmth of her hand just behind it. She was being so careful, so methodical, like she was cleaning a precious artifact.
'She's cleaning me,' Ryder thought, his brain finally reaching a state of pure, white-noise overload. 'I am being groomed by my neighbor. Is this a territorial marking? Am I now her property? Does the class see this? Oh god, Ishikawa is looking. He's definitely looking.'
He glanced at his friend Ishikawa two rows over, who was currently giving him a slow, silent thumbs-up with a smirk that promised a lifetime of teasing.
Ryder grabbed Aharee's wrist gently. Her skin was cool and soft. "I can do it, Aharee-san. Thank you."
She stopped. She didn't pull away. She just looked at her wrist, then at him.
"....k...."
"Okay?"
She nodded, took the towelette back, folded it into a perfect square, and tucked it into her pocket.
As the bell rang for the end of the period, Ryder felt like he had just run a marathon. He packed his bags with trembling hands.
"Aharee-san," he said, pausing before he left. "Tomorrow... maybe we can try using a megaphone?"
Aharee looked at him, her expression as unreadable as ever. She reached for her translator one last time.
"I... D-O-N-T... N-E-E-D... O-N-E... I... A-M... V-E-R-Y... L-O-U-D."
Ryder stared at the machine, then at the tiny girl who hadn't even reached the 40-decibel mark all day.
'She thinks she's loud? Is her internal volume dial broken? Or is the rest of the world just too noisy for her?'
He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth despite himself. "Yeah. Sure you are. See you tomorrow, Aharee-san."
As he walked out of the classroom, he could swear he heard the faintest, most microscopic sound behind him.
"....b...y...e...."
He didn't turn back, but his heart skipped a beat. He heard it. For the first time, he actually heard her. It wasn't a frequency or a code. It was just her. And it was enough to make him look forward to the next 498 chapters of chaos.