The walk home gave Suzu entirely too much time to think. This was unfortunate because thinking was directly responsible for most of her current problems. I mean, if she could just relax and not worry, everything would be fine!
By the time she reached her street, she had replayed the conversation with Reina approximately forty-seven times. The afternoon sun stretched long shadows across the sidewalk. Somewhere nearby, a dog barked twice and then apparently decided the matter had been resolved. A bicycle rolled past. Somebody was mowing a lawn.
Normal things. Entirely ordinary things. The world was behaving as though a red-haired girl had not casually walked into her life, read her favorite embarrassing novel, and permanently altered the chemical composition of her thoughts.
Suzu adjusted her bag on her shoulder. Then adjusted it again. Then immediately realized she was adjusting it because she was nervous. Then became nervous about being nervous. The cycle continued.
When she reached home, she unlocked the front door as quietly as possible. Not because she was hiding anything. The door clicked shut behind her. The familiar scent of dinner drifted from the kitchen. Suzu relaxed slightly.
Home was predictable. Home had rules. Home did not contain Reina. That thought was comforting for nearly three seconds.
"Welcome back."
Suzu stopped. Her mother was sitting at the dining table with a mug in one hand. The problem was not that her mother was there. The problem was that she was sitting in the specific way mothers sat when they already knew something. Suzu recognized the posture immediately. It was impossible to explain.
The posture of a person waiting for you to explain yourself.
"Hi," Suzu said carefully.
Her mother smiled.
"How was school?"
The question arrived too casually. Suzu immediately distrusted it.
"It was..." She paused. "Educational."
That sounded safe. Her mother nodded.
"I got a call from the school."
Suzu felt her soul leave her body. A very important part of her briefly attempted to evacuate through a nearby window.
"Oh."
Her mother took a sip from her mug.
"They said you skipped a class."
Suzu's brain exploded into motion. A thousand explanations collided with each other simultaneously. She felt like someone had dumped a box of puzzle pieces directly into her bloodstream.
"No, I didn't," she said.
Then she realized that had been a terrible opening strategy.
"I mean, technically I did."
Her mother raised an eyebrow.
"I mean, not technically. Literally."
Every sentence was making things worse.
"I wasn't skipping," she tried again. "I was just... somewhere else."
Her mother set down her mug.
"Suzu."
"I know."
"What happened?"
This was the question. The dangerous one. The actual problem. Because the truth was impossible. She couldn't exactly say:
A red-haired girl found out I read yuri, psychologically dismantled me during lunch, and I spent the rest of the afternoon hiding in a bathroom trying not to die of embarrassment.
That explanation would require approximately six additional explanations. So instead she panicked.
"My stomach hurt."
The lie emerged instantly but it quickly collapsed.
"Actually, not my stomach."
Her mother stared. Suzu stared back. The silence became unbearable.
"I was stressed."
That one was true. Mostly. Her mother blinked. Suzu continued speaking before she could stop herself.
"Not normal stress. Not that normal stress is bad. Stress is actually very useful evolutionarily speaking. I just mean there was a situation."
"A situation."
"Yes."
"What kind of situation?"
Suzu opened her mouth. Nothing came out. She closed it again.
"I don't really know how to explain it."
That, at least, was honest. Her mother watched her for a few moments. Not suspiciously. Just thoughtfully. Finally, her mother sighed. She wasn't disappointed nor angry. Just tired.
"Okay."
Suzu blinked.
"...Okay?"
"As long as you're not making a habit of it."
The response was so unexpected that Suzu almost forgot to be relieved.
"You aren't mad?"
"I'm not happy about it."
"That's fair."
"But one skipped class isn't the end of the world."
Suzu considered this. It certainly felt like the end of the world earlier. Though admittedly the world had continued existing afterward. That was inconvenient.
"I'll try not to do it again."
Her mother smiled slightly.
"Try a little harder than that."
"I'll attempt to attempt."
"Suzu."
"I'll do my best."
"There it is."
Something loosened in Suzu's chest. Not completely. The embarrassment from earlier remained firmly intact. But the knot of anxiety she'd been carrying since leaving school relaxed enough for her to breathe properly again. For the first time all afternoon, she felt tired. The ordinary kind of tired that arrived after a day spent feeling too many things.
Her mother stood up and headed toward the kitchen.
"Dinner's in an hour."
"Okay."
Suzu watched her disappear into the kitchen. Then she slowly headed toward her room. The familiar hallway stretched ahead of her. She felt safe for once. But as she reached her door and pushed it open, a single thought surfaced again despite her best efforts.
Reina. Suzu immediately groaned. This was becoming a problem.
Suzu immediately groaned. This was becoming a problem. The problem wasn't that she kept thinking about Reina. The problem was that she kept thinking about not thinking about Reina.
There was an important difference. One was obsession. The other was apparently whatever this was.
She stepped into her room and nudged the door shut behind her with her foot. The familiar clutter greeted her like an old friend. Not messy enough to be called messy, but organized according to a system nobody else would survive.
Books occupied several unstable-looking stacks around the room. A small shelf sat beside her desk, packed tightly enough that removing a single volume threatened the structural integrity of everything around it. Sticky notes peeked out from between pages. A handful of notebooks were piled beside her bed.
The notebooks deserved absolutely no investigation. If somebody opened one, they would discover years of disconnected thoughts, story ideas, strange observations, rankings of fictional couples, lists of names she thought sounded pretty, and at least three separate attempts at creating a classification system for romance tropes.
Suzu dropped her bag beside her desk and collapsed backward onto her bed. The ceiling stared down at her. She stared back. The relationship was largely one-sided.
For a few seconds she simply lay there, enjoying the absence of responsibilities. No teachers. No classmates. No red-haired girls appearing from nowhere to psychologically ambush her.
The moment the thought crossed her mind, Reina reappeared in her memory. Suzu covered her face with both hands.
"Stop."
The ceiling ignored her. Reina ignored her too, despite not physically being present. How was that fair? Most people needed to actually be in a room to continue causing problems.
Suzu reached into her bag to take out the book she had been reading.
"Now I don't even want to finish this..." she thought.
She sat down at her desk and opened it anyway. The pages looked the same. Yet somehow she couldn't focus. Every few paragraphs, her brain would helpfully remind her:
Reina has read this.
Then she'd have to start the page over. After the third failed attempt, she gave up and let her forehead fall onto the desk. A muffled groan escaped into the wood. This was ridiculous. One stupid conversation was all it took.
A notification sound pulled her out of her thoughts. Her phone lit up with messages from a group chat, one with the girls she had talked to in the hallway a couple days ago.
The messages were exactly what she expected. Complaints about homework, blurry photos, boring and normal stuff. She watched as they chatted, occasionally reacting to messages but rarely contributing. That was usually how she interacted with group chats. Like a wildlife photographer observing from a safe distance. Eventually one of the girls mentioned her directly.
Suzu, are you alive?
Suzu stared at the message before typing a response.
physically yes
Three dots appeared almost instantly.
that's not a reassuring answer
Suzu thought about it before typing again.
i skipped a class today and now im being haunted by the consequences
Several people reacted immediately, letting off multiple notification sounds.
YOU SKIPPED?
SUZU???
Suzu smiled despite herself.
it was an isolated incident!! it wont happen again
she finally became a delinquent!
Suzu laughed quietly. The sound surprised her. Not because it happened. Because she'd forgotten she was capable of it. For a little while, the conversation distracted her. The knot in her chest loosened. The day became normal-sized again. Life continued.
And for the first time since lunch, Suzu managed nearly twenty consecutive minutes without thinking about Reina. It was a personal record. Unfortunately, the achievement ended when she reached for one of her notebooks and a folded sticky note slipped out from between the pages.
A perfectly ordinary sticky note. Yet seeing it reminded her of something. A terrible possibility. What if Reina kept doing this? Kept appearing out of nowhere to talk to her? Maybe this was only the beginning.
Suzu stared at the sticky note. Then slowly lowered her head back onto the desk.
"...I'm in danger," she informed the notebook.
The notebook offered no meaningful guidance.