I’d always admired one person in my year more than anyone else. It was a feeling that most of the people in my year shared, I have to admit it wasn’t anything unique. Even so I had to keep it a secret to myself. Why do I mention it?

I exited the club room after another practice session with my bandmates. We were getting ready to take part in a small live show at a local bar on the weekend. I was really excited! I was the guitar player. We didn’t make heavy music – we made the kind of music that was acceptable to the club advisors and faculty members.

I’m going somewhere with this, I promise!

So, I leave the clubroom and prepare myself for the walk home. It’s a summer evening, the sun baking the school in a deep orange glow. I see her stood at the end of the corridor, the student president – Reina Nakamura. Reina was hard to miss, she was tall, dark and beautiful. With neatly trimmed black hair that cascaded down front and back, purple eyes, and a characteristic beauty mark on her left cheek.

It was a rare sight for Reina to be alone. She had a dedicated gaggles of fans (girls and boys) who’d follow her around every day. I walked towards her to reach the stairs, she turned from staring out of the window to look at me. “Good evening,” she greeted me. Despite her friendly words Reina’s face was always rigid, carefully controlled and difficult to read.

“Good evening President,” I responded. “You’re here late.” Me and the music club often stayed after hours to practice using the school’s equipment when nobody was around to be annoyed by it. Despite the room’s name – the music room was not properly soundproofed. The student council didn’t, they handled their work during lunch breaks throughout the week.

Reina placed a finger on one cheek and closed her eyes, “Yes, my homeroom teacher asked me to stay behind and help.” I nodded, unsure of what to say next. “I heard you, is the club doing well?”

Speaking about a subject I was passionate about filled me with confidence, “Yeah! We’re getting ready for our first real performance this weekend.” I put my hands into my jacket’s pockets. It was a light blue coat with white stripes down the arms. I mention this because Reina was oddly fixated on the action. She followed my hands, and then scanned me up and down.

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“Oh, are your family waiting for you?”

“Ah, I live with my grandma…”

“Apologies, we’ve not spoken at length before.”

“Don’t worry about it – it’s kind of unusual, right?”

Reina’s stone face didn’t match her words, but the inflection of her sentence indicated that she was interested in digging further. “You must be very close then.”

“Yep, it’s me and her.”

Reina’s eyed narrowed, “I must apologize, I had the wrong impression of you.”

“Oh? How so?” I shrugged.

“I thought that you were a delinquent.”

“Harsh...”

“But it’s clear that you’re a very responsible person. I have a bad habit of judging people by their appearance.” Reina turned back to the window and resumed observing the sunset.

“It’s the jacket, isn’t it?”

“Are you happy with yourself Hideki?”

I was caught off guard by her question, “Happy with myself?”

“Does the sight of your face in a mirror beset a sudden bout of nausea? Does your chest burn when you think about your future? Do you have any regrets?”

I shook my head; I didn’t really get what Reina meant. It seemed like she just changed the subject of the conversation entirely. “I guess… sometimes I do. I mean, does anybody live without regrets?” I felt an almost animalistic chill run up and down my spine. Reina idly played with a lock of her hair, twirling it around and around… I felt an intense pressure, I wanted to get away from this conversation.

Reina smiled. The first I’d ever seen.

“An interesting answer. But you aren’t being entirely honest with me, not that I expect you to.”

I shuffled over to the stairs. But she continued, “If you could change everything tomorrow, would you?”

“Depends on what you mean by everything.”

Reina held back a muffled laugh. “That’s up to you. Have a good evening Hideki.”

“You too.”

I jogged down the stairs and out of the school. Her words tumbled through my mind. On the route home I thought through them again and again. What did she mean by all of that? Was she just messing with me?

I approached the small home that I shared with my Grandmother and opened the door using my key. I stepped into the landing and pulled off my shoes, “I’m back!” There was no response, nor could I hear any sounds coming from inside. It was unusual. MY grandmother always acknowledged me when I came home. I wondered to myself is she’d fallen asleep or had gotten distracted speaking to one of our neighbours.

I hung up my bag and jacket and walked into the kitchen. Perhaps it was my mind attempting to reduce the shock, or maybe I just didn’t notice. But I stood there for almost five seconds before noticing something, or someone, lying on the ground. Their face still, a mask of somebody I once knew, who lived and loved and laughed...

“Grandma!”