Hana followed Shiro to the school's exit. He scrolled through images of different flower species for the project. He asked her opinion on several of them, but all she could do was nod. They wound up being paired off, but they both knew he'd do the work since she couldn't paint. In the end, she'd only be a burden.
"Ishida..." Hana mumbled. "Is painting...hard to learn?"
"Kind of." He replied, scrolling through more pictures.
"Oh..." Hana's shoulders fell. "I see."
There were a few minutes of silence. "I can teach you if you want."
Hana's face turned bright red.
"I'm not a pro or anything, but I can show you the basics."
"Y-yes! Please teach me!" Hana jumped up and down like a child.
"Okay, we can start at the next meeting." Shiro rubbed the back of his head. "It's alright if you don't pick it up right away. I'm usually pretty busy. But we can always arrange a lesson at my house."
Hana could almost see the steam coming from her body. "Y-your place?"
"Er... I-I only meant because I already have all the supplies. Please don't get the wrong idea or anything. I wasn't going to try anything weird. I could just pack my things and meet at your place, better yet a public place, if that makes you more comfortable..." Shiro ran out of steam and Hana let out a small chuckle.
"Eh?" Shiro held his hand to his chin. "Your laugh is kind of cute."
Hana nearly fell over. Her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird in a field of flowers.
Shiro showed her another image, but her vision was too blurry to see it.
"So you like sunflowers?" He scrolled back to a previous selection and showed Hana.
It was a picture of a sunflower field. It was one of the first pictures he showed her, but she was too shy to give her input.
"How did you know?" She said while avoid his gaze.
"They were the only ones that made your eyes light up when you saw them." He continued to walk ahead of her.
Hana stood in silence, floating in a different world. She could reach him now. She could stay with him like this forever.
"I have to get to work now, but I'll send Makoto the colors we'll be using later on tonight."
"I-Ishida, I—" She began.
"Ishimoto, wait up!" The two heard Makoto call out from the double doors.
When she caught up to them, Hana could see the sweat running down her face.
"Glad I... caught you..." Makoto panted, as if she'd been running the entire way there.
"Ms. Hamada," Shiro smiled, "I was just about to send you the color palette we came up with. But since you're here."
Makoto looked over his arm at his phone.
"Sunflowers, huh?" She nodded her approval. "Good work, Ishida, I'm sure it will turn out great!"
"Thanks, it was actually Ms. Ishimoto's idea." Shiro gave credit to where it was due. Makoto shot a glance at Hana and put her arm over her shoulder.
"Is that so? I knew our little rookie would do great." Makoto squeezed Hana's shoulder more than necessary, but Hana stayed silent.
"Speaking of which, I need a moment of your time, Ishimoto." She said.
"That's fine. I need to get going, anyway." Shiro walked away from the girls. Leaving Hana with an anxious feeling.
She hated watching him leave.
When he was out of sight, Makoto turned to Hana. Her smile was replaced by a distorted frown.
"Don't think for one second I don't know what you're up to."
"P-pardon?" Hana recoiled at Makoto's tone.
"Oh please, do you think you can just swoop in on the first day and keep Shiro all to yourself?" Makoto shoved Hana down to the ground. "Know your place first-year."
"I-I'm sorry, I don't —"
"Don't forget why you're here!" Makoto scoffed. "If my stupid cousin knew how to handle his club, I wouldn't be stuck with you in the first place." Makoto folded her arms across her chest.
Hana felt a lump in her throat. The gardening club president trusted her with the marketing campaign. Hana promised to get more recruits, otherwise the gardening club would have to be abolished. If Makoto decides not to help them now, because of her, she wouldn't know what to do.
"I know what you're thinking." Makoto rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to let Susumu's club go under."
Makoto raised her hand, and Hana braced for the impact. Hana held herself on the ground, frozen.
"Geez, what kind of person do you think I am?" she scoffed at Hana, who was cowering in her place on the floor.
Makoto helped the girl up, flipped her hair over her shoulder, and turned her back on the girl.
"Just keep away from Shiro. Don't forget, I'm doing you a favor." She said as she walked away.
Hana stood on the sidewalk, long after Makoto faded into the distance. How could I forget?
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Shiro fiddled with a tin of 24 paints he'd bought for Ishimoto. He stood by her class, hoping to catch her before the bell rang. He hadn't seen much of her since they chose their project and she hasn't been very attentive to their paint lessons. He wondered if she had something personal going on, but he didn't have the nerve to ask.
He glanced down at his watch. It was almost time for the first bell. He slipped the paint tin back in his back and headed toward his class. He'd give it to her at the Paint Club later that day.
Shiro pulled out his phone and replied to some messages. Before he got very far, he bumped into what seemed like a wall.
He looked up from his phone and saw a tall student standing in front of him. The guy wore the white button down and red tie. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and he wore a beige sweater vest instead of the black blazer most male students wore. He noticed only one white pin on the boy's shirt.
A first year! He had to be at least six foot five. Shiro eyed the boy up and down, amazed at his physique. He must be in the sports club. The meat-heads were always into sports.
The boy stood in silence, squinting down at Shiro. He would be lying if he said he wasn't intimidated.
"S-sorry" Shiro muttered as he stepped aside so the boy could get to his class. The same classroom Shiro has been hovering over the past hour.
"E-excuse me, Professor?" said a mousy voice inside. A voice he knew had to belong to Ishimoto.
Shiro stood frozen in embarrassment. He covered his face with his hand.
She was in there the entire time...
"Don't bother me until after the second bell rings." Her teacher sighed.
Shiro was a little surprised by the lazy response. Then he remembered the look of the man, the shaggy brown hair and untucked, short-sleeved button down. The school was lax on dress code. But the teacher should be the example. Mr. Azuma was well put together, despite his aggressive character. He was an excellent teacher.
Shiro peeked in the classroom. Hana noticed him at the door and quickly looked away. He got a look at the teacher through the crack of the door. He was leaning back in his chair with his arms tucked behind his head. He was balancing a pencil on his upper lip and his feet were propped up on his messy desk.
Geez, you can do better than that, Keiko.
He snapped black to reality as the door closed completely in front of him.
He hated to admit it, but he was a little annoyed. Mr. Azuma had to leave class early the other day. When he returned, he had Keiko with him. Shiro wondered if this teacher was the cause of that, too. He tried to get the red-head out of his mind.
"It's none of my business." Shiro said to himself, pushing his glasses up on his face and turning toward the staircase.
At least Keiko has been consistent with her absences. He probably wouldn't have to see her.
"My darling," the voice sent Shiro sprinting toward the stairs.
He refused to be late because of Masashi's shenanigans again. He reached the second floor and pulled the door open, kicking it shut behind him. The first bell rang and Shiro held his body against the door. Masashi pounded on the door in retaliation.
"Go to class Masashi, will you?!" Shiro yelled through the small glass window on the door.
He peek of his shoulder and saw Masashi pushing the door mouthing something he could not hear but could guess it was probably something lewd. There was someone with him. Another boy with shoulder-length brown hair and thick black glasses. "Open the door Ishida, don't hurt my sweet master any longer." Yelled the boy.
"There's two of you?!" Shiro took a deep breath and ran all the way to his class, slamming the door shut behind him. He heard the stampede of footsteps stop at his classroom door, followed by sighs of disappointment.
image [https://img.wattpad.com/132b4f5f130a55054b28f5f9df5389ff208f477f/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f5a6575337a5968743176374434773d3d2d313435393331393430342e313764663539336136326237633835653936313838363033383235302e706e67?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
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Shiro brushed himself off and turned toward his professor, who glared at him. At least that's what Shiro thought. After a few seconds, he realized Mr. Azuma seemed to be pleading with his eyes. Azuma glance in front of him, then back at Shiro, a defeated man.
Shiro looked in the direction Azuma instructed. There it was. Keiko and Makoto's eyes were locked. Makoto's jaw was clenched and Keiko smirked at the girl. The environment was hostile but Shiro, and it appears Azuma, had to bear with it for the rest of the day.
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After an awkward several hours, the class was dismissed for lunch. Mr. Azuma seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Makoto left the room. He was back to his normal self as the tension left the classroom. Only a few students remained. Shiro's stomach growled, and he realized he'd left his lunch at home in his hurry to meet with Ishimoto. He dug around his pockets for change but realized he left his wallet too. He put both hands on his head as his stomach roared loud enough for everyone to hear.
He heard Keiko rummage in her bag. She might be planning to have lunch in class today. He remembered the last meal she ever made for him. He always loved her cooking. He wondered if she learned any new recipes. If she still made Japanese inspired food even after living in Spain for so long. He held his head in place, fighting his curiosity.
Something landed on his desk with a thud. Shiro looked down at a lunchbox, half wrapped in green fabric.
"Your sister dropped this off early in the morning." Azuma started walking back to his desk.
"Th-thank you!" Shiro's said, excited by the thought of food, even if Aya was still learning to cook.
"Hmm..." Azuma grunted, taking his place at the front of the class.
Shiro rounded up his things and got up to leave. He felt a chill as he reached for the door handle. Masashi and his doppelgänger lurked around the hall by the door. He backed into his seat and robotically placed his items back in their designated locations. Between Masashi's sexual advances and Keiko's presence, it was a difficult toss up.
Keiko pulled two bags from her back and walked up to Azuma's. She dropped one of the bags on Azuma's desk and flipped her hair before leaving the classroom.
"Grrr... who the hell does she think she is?" One of the Azuma fan club girls balled her fists on her desk. Shiro watched Azuma opened the bag and removed a black container. He opened the lid and seemed surprised by its contents.
She made him lunch?
It wasn't entirely out of character. Keiko made lunch for their teachers in elementary school. But it was still a little weird, considering she and Azuma didn't really get along. Maybe it had something to do with last week. He had been called to the teacher's lounge and came back with Keiko.
Did something happen between them?
Shiro's stomach rumbled audibly. Tried to take his mind off it. At least with Keiko gone, he could relax and enjoy his lunch.
He opened his lunch, his mouth watered instantly. He started shoveling food into his mouth before even looking at its contents. He ate something mushy and cover in mayonnaise. It was delicious. He had to suppress his enjoyment. Once the potato salad went down, he grabbed something else. He bit down on the breaded pork and stopped himself from chewing any further. He looked down at his food and took in the entrée. It was breaded pork with some potato salad. There was some broccoli and an apple in here too.
"This is..." Shiro looked at Azuma, who was practically inhaling the meal Keiko had given him. He ate the rest of his lunch slowly, taking in the flavors. Aya had outdone herself. It almost tasted like Keiko's cooking. In fact, he'd argue it was better than he remembered.
Hana sat in silence as she watch Shiro fill a palette with green, yellow and brown paint. He mixed a few other colors together to create to color palette for the sunflower painting. She felt guilty for not showing more interest. He tried to teach her the first couple of days, but today he was quiet. Makoto stared her down, and she pulled her seat further from Shiro's.
"Is there something wrong?" Shiro set his paintbrush down and away from the clean white canvas.
Hana's eyes locked with Makoto's frown as she leaned in to hear. Hana had to choose her words wisely, as she knew Makoto would be listening.
"N-noth—"
"Hamada." Mr. Naoki peeked his head into the class. "If you have a minute."
Makoto glanced back, and Hana before she walked out the door.
"Sorry, Ishida. I know I've been acting strangely. It's not you I promise." She blurted. She regretted the words the minute they left her mouth.
"Did Ms. Hamada say something to you?" Shiro scratched the side of his face.
"N-no, no!" Hana put both hands in front of her. "What makes you think that? I just didn't want to bother you. You said you were really busy and everything and I wouldn't want to take up your time. Beside like you said, it would be better if I stick to gardening club and all that. That's why
I'm here after all, hehe—"
"We really need to teach that Matsuda girl a lesson." Hana heard the female voice. She didn't dare look at the two girls, but she listened to their conversation and looked down at her desk, pretending to mix colors.
"First she yells and Azuma, then she's bringing him lunch?" The other pounded on her desk.
"You guys are just jealous Mr. Azuma has the hots for her."
"Can it, Minori!"
The boy turned away from the girl and put both hands over his head. "Did you see the body on her? Geez, you think you have a chance? You two are flat as a board."
"I said shut it!" the girl lunged at the boy, pulling his hair.
"That's enough, you two." Makoto walked toward the podium and straightened out a stack of files.
"Listen up. We have some news."
"We are going to wrap this project up by the end of the week. Mr. Naoki has informed me that headmaster Higa has chosen to extend the school festival. We need to start working on our booth as soon as possible."
The club members let out a jumble of incoherent and explicit sentences before they were called to order again.
"This may be a slight inconvenience to you all. But rest assured, we are the top club in the fine art program, and we must be wary of our image and work hard to uphold it for the next generation of artists."
The club all nodded proudly in agreement.
"Everyone, be sure to pull your own weight in the coming weeks." Makoto glared right in Hana's direction. "And I mean everyone."
The club cheered and got back to work, more determined to complete the flyer. Even Hana felt motivated, even if she knew the last remark was directed at her.
Hana noticed Shiro hard at work. She dug in her bag for the paint brushes she had bought. When she put her hand around the case of brushes, she froze in place.
But... If the flyer is done this week, I won't see you anymore. Hana looked at Shiro. She memorized his face and where every wavy strand of hair landed. This is as close as I will ever be to him. She pulled her hand back out of her bag, clutching her new paint brushes to her heart.
She felt the room spinning and tried her best to suffer in silence. She knew what was coming. And the girl with the reddish-brown hair was not around to save her this time.
"Oh, Ms. Ishimoto. That reminds me." Shiro dug around in his bag. Hana tried her best to focus on him and not on the loud drumming of her heart.
"I got these for you. Since you said you wanted to learn." Shiro held out a blue tin with paint inside.
"This is..." Hana's eyes filled with tears. She was sure she looked ridiculous. She was, as her sister put it, an ugly crier.
"Er... It was no big deal." Shiro held the tin in front of her, as if waiting for her to take it.
Hana held out a shaky hand. "Thank you, Ishida."
She placed the paint down on the desk and removed the included palette. She sprayed the colors with water and chose some colors similar to what Shiro had done.
"Good job, Ishimoto! So you were paying attention, after all."
Hana felt a little embarrassed at the attention.
After mixing some, she noticed the color turning a muddy brown. "Eh?" Hana felt bad for ruining the pretty green color she had chosen. "It turned brown." She said, keeping her head down.
"That's alright, look, we can use it here." Shiro filled his brush with clean water and dabbed it in the brown Hana had mixed. He painted the center of each sunflower with it, then dabbed a scrunched of a napkin over top.
"It's the perfect color for it, see?"
Shiro smiled at her. She felt a rock in her stomach.
Don't show me that smile anymore, Shiro. Not that fake smile.
Hana had noticed it on the first day. Shiro's smile. This new smile that felt so wrong. So...painful. Shiro was hurting inside.
Hana stared down at her lap. She squeezed herself tight, willing the tears to stay back.
Are you still in there, Shiro? Is it still you anymore? She thought to herself.
This is your fault! You did this! You broke your promise!
Hana felt the guilt take over her entire body. Her mind went back to that place. The day she made a promise. And the day she broke it.
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A young Hana leaned against a concrete wall. She peeked out to see a boy, three years older than she, and a girl having lunch together in the courtyard.
Hana held the two lunches she'd made. One for herself and the other for the boy, as a thank you for helping her on her first day of school.
She probably could've gone to them and handed it to him. It would almost certainly have been fine if she did. If she could just overcome the fear of rejection. What if he refused her gift or rejected her friendship? Hana gripped her chest. The anxiety suffocating her.
She didn't move from her spot. After a time, the bell rang, and the two ran past her toward their classrooms.
Every day, Hana hid behind the wall; waiting for a chance to talk to the boy who'd saved her. Opportunities came and went, but she couldn't bring herself to act. Day after day, she'd stand there, waiting. And day after day, the boy and his friend walked past her as if she didn't exist.
One day, Hana hid behind the wall, now designated as her wall. She watched as Shiro sat on the park bench, swinging his feet, sketching in a book. His friend hadn't arrived yet.
"Hey stalker." The hair on Hana's neck stiffened. She turned slowly to see the girl with the reddish-brown hair grinning at her, her hands on her hips. "Er... I, uh." Hana began. "Hehe," the girl chuckled, holding out her hand.
"I'm Keiko, what's your name?"
"Ha-Hana."
"Hahana?" Keiko put her hand under her chin. "That's a weird name."
Hana hid the redness of her face behind her hands.
"Hey! Are you ignoring me?" Keiko put both hands on her hips. Stomping on the ground.
"N-no. I-I'm sorry... I—"
"Good." The girl pulled Hana up beside her. "Eh? You are pretty short. What grade are you in?"Hana's face turned bright red again.
"Haha, you're cute, Hahana!" Keiko wrapped both arms around the girl. Hana just stood frozen. Her head spinning.
Keiko put both hands behind her back. "I have a favor to ask of you."
Keiko dragged Hana to the edge of the concrete wall. Her wall. She pointed in the little boy's direction, the ones she'd been watching for weeks now.
"You see that nerdy boy with the glasses?"
Hana just nodded in response.
"Well, that's my best friend, Shiro."
Hana stared at him for a while longer. Doodling in his notebook.
"I need you to take care of him for me 'kay?" Keiko grabbed Hana's hand with both of her and shook it a little too forcefully.
"That's a promise, so you can't break it." Keiko said, running toward Shiro, leaving Hana to her wall. What did she mean by that? Hana thought to herself as she peered from the wall in their direction. The two read through a book and ate their lunches like they normally did.
Not once did Shiro look her way? Keiko didn't tell him that Hana had been watching him. Her anxieties subsided as she thought of what the girl had said.
Hana was in the fourth grade; Shiro, the sixth. Half the school year had gone by and she never spoke to the boy again after the first time they'd met. If she didn't act now, he'd go on to middle school and she might never see him again. "Shiro..." she whispered. The two walked past her, as they did every day. Keiko winked at Hana as they continued to their classroom; Shiro is unaware of the interaction.
"Tomorrow," Hana promised herself. "Tomorrow, I'll share my lunch with Shiro." Hana slept that night, both determined and terrified for the following day.
The next day during recess, Hana turned the corner of the same concrete wall she always hid behind and took three steps toward where Shiro normally ate his lunch. She ran back toward the wall as she lost her nerve again. She stood up straight and looked in his direction, regaining her resolve. She saw him standing in his typical spot... alone. Hana didn't budge.
He looked around for a while, then walked back and forth between the benches. His hands were empty; no lunchbox in sight and his friend hadn't come that day. This was her chance. He was probably hungry, and she packed plenty of food for him. She gripped her bag, and she watched Shiro wander aimlessly, her determination fading.
Hana didn't go to Shiro that day. She sat behind the concrete wall once again. Watching Shiro walk back and forth until the bell rang.
For a few days he'd done that; walk back and forth between the two park benches alone. At that time, Hana stopped bringing lunch for him. She visited her usual hiding spot daily until Shiro stopped coming to recess altogether.
His friend, the girl who'd hung out with him, never came back. And Shiro, the boy with whom Hana had fallen in love with, was never the same.
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Keiko sat at the bus stop with Shiro's file held open on her lap. She'd been staring at it for several minutes now.
His file held but a few sheets of paper listing his achievements. Entry to the writer's club and paint club and finally resignation of the writer's club. Achievements and special awards were blank. She was sure he would've done something amazing by now. Surely he entered his work in a writing contest. But there it was, in black and white.
Nothing but an empty space. His time in Bura Bura has not been fruitful. He has done nothing. Nothing at all.
She shut the file and slipped it into her bag. He'd be leaving the paint club soon. She stood up to make her exit before he showed his face. She couldn't tell if she was more angry or just disappointed.
Then she thought of how he spoke to her. How he showed her that hideous fake smile. Her face grew hot. Oh, she was angry alright. She was furious, and Shiro was about to get an earful.
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