"Alright, here we go."
It was a new day. My accessories were the same as yesterday, and my forehead had healed after that hit. Physically, I looked the same as always, but mentally, I was ready.
"Hi Aisha, nice to see you... No, we barely know each other, that would sound too forced... How's life treating you, Aisha?... What kind of greeting is that?"
On my way to school, I was debating with myself the many ways I could greet Aisha. My original plan was to go with a simple and basic "hi," but I wondered if that was really the right way to talk to someone like her. Obviously, she wouldn't get offended or anything, but I wanted her to feel something when she heard me.
"We'll probably be the first ones to arrive again, so maybe I could experiment a little… Maybe i can do it in other language... Why does that sound so ridiculous?"
My thoughts kept swirling until I realized I was already inside the classroom. Putting aside how I had just totally dissociated, the moment I saw Aisha in her seat, I knew I had to try one of my greetings.
"(You got this, let's start wi—)"
"Hi Lusia."
"Ah… Hi."
The last thing I expected was for Aisha to be the one to start the conversation. But thinking it through, it made sense. She probably reasoned something like "Friends greet each other, so she probably wants me to say hi," or something along those lines. Anyway, in this situation, all I could do was play along.
"Looks like you got here first this time."
"I don't waste time at home…"
"In no way at all? You don't put on makeup, watch the news, or anything?"
"I don't have a TV and I don't usually wear makeup. I just shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast."
"Not even talk with your family?"
"My dad works nights, so he's usually sleeping in the mornings…"
"Hmm… In that case, hand me your phone."
Despite how blunt my request was, Aisha handed me her phone without hesitation. I probably should've had a talk with her about that, but oh well. I quickly looked through her number and added her to my contacts.
"Now I can call you in the mornings."
"I already have an alarm…"
"Well now you'll have two."
"As long as that makes you happy…"
Now that I had Aisha's number, I sat in my seat and, after fiddling with the buttons for a while, managed to send her a message.
"Testing"
"You're the first person I know who uses regular messages instead of a chat app."
"My phone can't handle that much - -"
"What are those lines?"
"A shy face. It took me forever to make it."
"Do friends make faces when talking?"
"Well, it makes it easier to express yourself."
"I see 0-0"
"Ha ha, that's just like you."
Even as more people arrived, I kept sending messages to Aisha, and she responded almost instantly. Though her replies were sometimes blunt or even disinterested, you could tell she was making an effort to keep the conversation going no matter where it led.
"And then I hit the bullseye dead center."
"You must have really good aim for that 0-0"
"Yeah, I was also thinking of wearing a necklace I had at home, but I wasn't sure if it'd look good on me."
"I think people go by hair color for that kind of thing 0-0"
Even when topic changes were a bit abrupt, she adapted instantly. I have to admit, I could use that skill.
"By the way, Aisha, I think we should go out someday."
"To make up for yesterday? 0-0"
"Partly 030, but mostly because I want to see if we can find something you like."
"It'll be a waste of effort 0-0"
"Well, we're going whether you like it or not."
"Alright. By the way, how are your notes going? 0-0"
"...Huh?"
"Class started like thirty minutes ago 0-0"
"Seriously?! .-."
When I looked up, I realized the class had indeed started a while ago. I know it's my fault, but… No, actually, I have no excuse.
"We'll talk later."
"Got it 0-0"
"By the way, I don't mean to be rude, but you don't have to use a face in literally every sentence."
"I knew you were using too few of them."
With some effort, I managed to more or less catch up with the class. I knew I could ask Aisha for help if I got lost, but aside from not knowing if she'd even been paying attention, it didn't feel quite right to ask her something like that, knowing her only possible response would be "yes."
When recess came, I quickly tapped Aisha on the back. She turned around instantly, understanding what I wanted.
"Wanna spend recess together?"
"Sure."
"I don't mind, but are you sure you don't wanna talk to more people?"
"I have my priorities."
"Alright. Should we stay here?"
"I'd like to explore a bit. Yesterday I focused too much on meeting people."
As I stood up, Aisha did the same and stood behind me—I guess that's her way of following someone.
"You could walk beside me, you know."
"This way I make sure I don't lose you."
"You almost seem like my Stand."
With Aisha behind me, I started walking. The more people I saw, the more surprised I was by how different everyone looked. At my old school, there were really strict rules about uniforms and makeup, so it felt really strange to see people with dyed hair, decorated nails, or wearing their uniforms backwards.
"The vibe here is pretty nice."
"That's what everyone usually says."
"And then there's you."
"Is there something wrong with me?"
"Perfect uniform, short and tidy hair, no trace of makeup, you stand out more than anyone."
"I don't care about those things. Besides, short hair is more comfortable."
"Have you ever thought about growing it out?"
"Not at all. Shampoo costs more, and drying it would be a pain."
"Still…"
Imagining Aisha with long hair was, to say the least, interesting. Part of me thought she'd look like a serious and elegant beauty, but another part thought she'd look more like a horror movie girl who stares at you before stabbing you or stealing your soul… Honestly, either way, she'd still look good.
"One of these days I'll bring you some accessories to make you pretty."
"Like a mannequin?"
"At least say like a doll… Mannequin… Wait, I got an idea."
After wandering in circles a bit, we finally arrived at the art room. It wasn't just full of paintings, it also had all kinds of artistic projects like plaster masks, sculptures made from various materials, and even some half-finished sketches alongside mannequin models used to study human anatomy.
"How pretty, it feels really nostalgic visiting an art room."
"Your old school didn't have one...?"
"We did but… let's just say I didn't visit it much."
"I see…"
"Anyway, we didn't come to talk about me. What do you think we'll find?"
"As long as we don't break anything, we should be allowed to touch most stuff. Just don't touch anything from the art club."
"As you command, boss."
"Boss?"
"You've been here longer, so you're the one in charge."
Carefully, I started browsing through the work others had done. Some projects were clearly done just to pass, with minimal effort, but a few had professional-level attention to detail. As I kept looking, I realized there were fewer drawings than I expected.
"There aren't many drawings."
"Yeah. It's only been a day."
"If it's only been a day, where did the other pieces come from?"
"The teacher keeps works from previous years, probably decorated the place with her favorites."
"Do you think the drawings are stored somewhere?"
"I doubt it."
I quickly began searching through several drawers, trying to find something. Most were disappointingly clean, but that changed when I found one full of papers.
"I found something.""Let me see."
When Aisha saw the back of one of the sheets, she seemed to understand what I'd found.
"Looks like these are from last year and the year before."
"Some of them are really detailed… Hey, I know this anime!"
"Most of them seem to be from free-theme classes."
"I get why she kept them… Hmm..."
With an idea in mind, I flipped through the stack of papers and started setting some aside. After a while, I found a few that had Aisha's name written on the back.
"Hehe, here they are."
"Are you really that interested?"
"I want to see if that little head of yours has anything in it besides hair."
When I flipped over the small stack of Aisha's drawings, I found something... honestly, not surprising.
"Is this… the wall?"
"Yes."
"You just drew what was in front of you?"
"The theme was free."
"It's kind of insulting how well it's done."
The other drawings weren't all that different. Her desk, a chalkboard, the window. If not for the decent quality, they'd be the least interesting pieces in the pile.
"How do you draw so well?"
"Is it really that strange?"
"I can barely manage with 3D art, and even then, I'm not that good at it."
"According to the teacher, I have strong concentration. Maybe it's that."
"When we have art class, I want to see your process… Huh?
""What is it?"
"This one's different."
Just when I had resigned myself to boring artwork, I found an interesting drawing. It wasn't of any part of the classroom. It was a bar counter with several people seated, chatting with each other. In the center was someone with their back turned and an empty glass beside them.
"And this?"
"That?... Oh, I made that one on a day the teacher banned me from drawing the classroom."
"It's really nice. What were you thinking about when you drew it?"
"I don't remember. It was last year."
"I like the colors."
"I used whatever I had at hand."
"Well, it turned out pretty—wait, huh?"
When I looked closely at the hand of the person in the center, I noticed that unlike the rest, which were all colored in, that one was left blank.
"You forgot to color the center customer's hand."
"How strange. I usually don't make mistakes like that."
With some curiosity, Aisha looked at the drawing again and confirmed the hand was indeed left uncolored. She probably wrote it off as a mistake, but I thought maybe it was something unconscious, after all, many people express themselves best through art. At the very least, I felt a bit intrigued.
"Do you think the teacher would let me keep this drawing?"
"You liked it that much?"
"I feel like, by looking at it, I might get an idea of how to spend time with you."
"Well, you have my permission as the artist. I doubt the teacher would mind, she likes people seeing her students' work."
"Yay."
Carefully, I took the drawing without damaging it and returned the rest to their place. Aisha kept looking at it, a bit puzzled, probably wondering what I saw in it. That gave me an idea.
"How much time until the next class?"
"With how long we've taken… Ten minutes."
"Plenty."
I quickly grabbed a cup full of pencils and picked out a few. Then I took a couple of blank sheets.
"What are you doing?"
"I don't want to wait until Thursday for art class. Let's make a couple of drawings."
"Alright…"
Without wasting any more time, we both sat at desks and got started.
"What are you going to draw?"
"I was thinking of drawing the window..."
"Boring."
"What do you want me to draw, then?
""If I wanted something specific, I'd order a commission online. Just draw anything except the classroom or the window."
"Got it."
As I started drawing, I remembered why my art grades were never exactly stellar. Every line felt more complicated than the last, and I kept messing up proportions. If someone saw what I was doing, they'd probably think a child made it.
"..."
"..."
"...This is so hard!"
"You were the one with the idea… Oh, I went outside the line."
Even though that small comment cheered me up a bit, I couldn't help but feel frustrated at how badly my drawing was turning out. I got so stressed that I started biting the finger of the hand I wasn't using to draw. I probably would've stayed like that a while if the bell hadn't rung for the next class. With nothing else to do, I put my pencil down, just like Aisha.
"That was exhausting…"
"Why did you even suggest it?"
"I thought maybe I'd gotten better..."
"Without practice?"
"It made sense at the time!"
As we returned to our classroom, I tried not to bring up the drawings so I wouldn't have to show the monstrosity I had created. That plan might've worked—if Aisha hadn't put her drawing in front of me.
"This is what I drew…"
"Hmm… Is that me?""
Yes. Technically, you're not part of the classroom."
"You just went for something easy..."
Though the drawing didn't have the same quality as her other pieces, the attention to detail in the accessories and the accurate proportions made it look pretty good.
"Nice, but… What's up with the hand I'm using to draw?"
"I went over the line, but when I saw you biting your finger, I drew it bleeding to cover the mistake."
"I was biting my finger?!"
"You didn't notice?"
"Please forget about that… I'm trying to stop that habit…"
"It's a habit?"
"S-Sometimes! I mean, not always!"
without insisting on that, Aisha took her drawing back, assuming I'd seen enough. For a second, I thought I was safe. But my hopes were crushed when she snatched my drawing out of my hands.
"Hey—!"
"Is this a limping astronaut?"
"...It's supposed to be you…"
"...Oh right, I can tell from the hairstyle."
"My proportions were way off…
""...All the fingers are the same size."
"Please don't try to find redeeming qualities, it just makes me feel worse."
That day I learned something very important:
Don't do art-related activities with Aisha.