Nothing
dark heroNezu had expected sleep to solve the problem.
It usually did. Information acquired during the day was processed, irrelevant details discarded, useful details retained, and by morning most events could be examined without the interference caused by exhaustion.
Apparently, kissing Akane was an exception.
His eyes opened and he stared at the ceiling.
Akane pulled away just enough to look at him.
Do you have enough evidence now?
No.
That had not been the end.
Nezu closed his eyes again, only for another part of yesterday to immediately replace the first.
Further testing.
His eyes opened.
This was inefficient.
Something moved beside him, and Kuro raised his head from the pillow, stared at Nezu for several seconds, then yawned before stretching one front leg across his chest.
“Good morning.”
Nezu remained where he was. He had slept for seven hours and forty-three minutes, which was more than sufficient, and there was no reason whatsoever to remain in bed.
He remained in bed.
Kuro’s ears turned toward him.
Nezu looked at the cat.
Kuro looked back.
“I am getting up.”
Kuro blinked.
Twenty-seven seconds passed before the cat apparently lost confidence in that statement, stood, walked across Nezu’s chest and jumped to the floor. Nezu finally sat up, only for his thoughts to immediately return to yesterday.
There was nothing useful left to analyse. Akane had kissed him, he had kissed Akane, and then he had kissed Akane again. More importantly, the second occurrence had been initiated by him.
That was the relevant information.
His brain supplied several additional details that were not relevant at all.
Nezu stood. “Enough.”
Kuro stopped halfway through the bedroom door and looked back.
“Not you.”
The cat continued into the corridor.
By the time Nezu had dressed and reached the stairs, he had successfully redirected his thoughts toward school. There were assignments due this week, one teacher had changed the order of two scheduled tests, and Segu had mentioned something yesterday that he had only partially listened to because Akane’s fingers had been against the back of his neck.
Nezu stopped halfway down the stairs.
Kuro, already several steps below him, looked back.
“This is inconvenient.”
The cat sat down.
“Stop looking at me.”
Kuro’s tail moved once before Nezu continued downstairs.
Segu was already at the breakfast table when he entered the dining room, one hand wrapped around a glass of juice while the other moved across her phone. She glanced up long enough to wish him good morning, received the same greeting in return, then returned her attention to whatever she had been reading.
Nezu took his usual seat.
Segu looked up again.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Her eyes returned to the screen.
Nezu watched her for a moment before reaching for the bread.
Kuro entered shortly afterward, jumped onto the empty chair beside him and, despite Nezu calling his name in warning, climbed directly onto the table. His nose moved toward Nezu’s sleeve.
Nezu pushed his face away.
Kuro immediately returned.
Segu lowered her phone slightly. “What is he doing?”
“I don’t know.”
Kuro sniffed Nezu’s hand, then his wrist, then returned to the sleeve. When Nezu moved his arm away, the cat simply followed it.
“He smells something,” Segu said.
“Clearly.”
She leaned forward with sudden interest. “Did you touch another cat?”
“No.”
Kuro’s ears flattened.
Segu laughed. “Apparently that was offensive.”
Nezu attempted to move him away, but Kuro avoided his hands, walked directly across the table and began investigating the other side of his shirt. His nose eventually reached Nezu’s collar.
Nezu froze.
Yesterday.
Akane had been close enough that…
He picked Kuro up immediately.
Segu’s eyebrows rose.
The cat hung between Nezu’s hands, staring at him with what appeared to be equal parts confusion and accusation.
“You are behaving strangely.”
Kuro meowed.
“I meant him,” Segu said.
Nezu slowly turned toward her.
“You’ve been awake for five minutes and you’ve already stopped on the stairs, argued with the cat twice and nearly thrown him across the room.”
“I did not nearly throw him.”
“You picked him up like he contained explosives.”
Kuro meowed again.
Segu pointed at him. “See? He agrees.”
Nezu placed Kuro on the floor, although the cat immediately jumped back onto the chair. “There is nothing unusual.”
“Right.”
Segu returned to her phone while Nezu reached for his breakfast. Kuro sniffed his sleeve again, Nezu moved his arm, and Segu’s eyes rose above her phone.
Nezu ignored both of them.
It lasted almost thirty seconds.
“What happened yesterday?”
“Several things.”
“With Akane.”
His hand stopped.
Only briefly.
But briefly was enough.
Segu slowly lowered her phone while Nezu continued spreading butter across his bread as though nothing had happened.
“We spoke.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Because you’re acting weird.”
“I am not.”
Segu stared at him.
Nezu stared back.
Kuro sniffed him again.
Segu’s stare became significantly more irritating.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You already said that.”
“And you believed me the first time?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Nezu returned his attention to breakfast.
Segu did not ask again.
That was worse.
For the remainder of the meal, she behaved entirely normally. She checked her phone, complained about something one of their classmates had posted, stole a piece of food from Nezu’s plate and denied doing so while still chewing it. Every few minutes, however, Nezu caught her looking at him.
Observing.
He knew that look because he had used that look countless times himself.
Segu was collecting information.
Nezu disliked being on the other side of it.
By the time they left for school, he had reached a simple conclusion. There was nothing for Segu to discover. He and Akane had kissed, it was private, and their behaviour toward each other did not need to change simply because of it.
Therefore, Segu would find nothing.
The conclusion was perfectly logical.
It survived until Nezu saw Akane.
She was standing near the school entrance talking to two girls from their year, and there was absolutely nothing unusual about the sight until she noticed Segu approaching and then looked at him.
Their eyes met.
Akane stopped speaking for only a fraction of a second. The girl beside her continued talking without noticing anything, and Akane recovered almost immediately.
Nezu did not.
His attention dropped without permission.
Her mouth.
Yesterday returned with unnecessary accuracy: the warmth, the pressure and the small movement of her lips against his.
Nezu looked away.
“Nezu?”
Segu had stopped beside him.
“What?”
“You stopped walking.”
He looked down and discovered that she was correct.
Akane was already approaching them.
“Morning,” she said.
“Morning!” Segu answered.
Nezu looked at Akane.
Akane looked at him.
“Good morning.”
Perfectly normal.
Akane smiled.
Not perfectly normal.
Or perhaps it was. Nezu suddenly realised he was no longer certain.
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly.
Akane’s smile changed, barely enough to notice, but Segu looked between them immediately.
Nezu noticed.
Akane noticed him noticing.
“Good,” Akane said before walking past him, close enough that her shoulder brushed against his arm.
Nezu stopped again.
Akane continued toward the building without looking back.
Segu remained beside him in silence.
Nezu started walking.
Segu followed.
They made it another three steps.
“Nezu.”
“No.”
“I didn’t ask anything.”
“Don’t.”
Segu’s grin appeared slowly.
Nezu increased his pace.
Behind them, Kuro’s head emerged from the partially open top of Nezu’s bag. His nose moved once toward Akane, then toward Nezu.
The cat’s eyes narrowed.
By the beginning of the second lesson, Nezu had managed to convince himself that the problem was under control. Akane sat several seats away from him, which helped considerably, and although the teacher was explaining material he already understood, following the lesson at least gave him something else on which to focus. He copied the relevant points into his notebook, added two small corrections in the margin, and successfully avoided looking in Akane’s direction for eleven consecutive minutes.
Then someone sitting behind her called her name, and Nezu looked up.
There was no reason for him to do so. The person speaking to Akane was nowhere near him, the conversation had nothing to do with him, and he could barely hear it over the teacher’s explanation anyway. None of that prevented his attention from moving toward her as she turned in her chair and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear while answering.
His eyes moved lower.
Nezu immediately returned his attention to the board and continued writing, only to stop halfway through the sentence when he realised the final three words belonged to an entirely different paragraph. He stared at the mistake for several seconds before crossing it out.
That had never happened before.
A folded piece of paper landed beside his hand. When Nezu looked to his right, Segu was facing the board with such exaggerated attention that there was no possibility anyone else had thrown it. He opened the paper beneath the desk.
Are you sick again?
Nezu wrote No beneath the question and passed it back. It returned a few seconds later.
Then why have you looked at Akane fourteen times?
Nezu slowly turned his head toward Segu, but she continued taking notes without acknowledging him. He looked back at the paper.
Fourteen was incorrect.
It had been twelve.
Possibly thirteen, depending on whether the first time after entering the classroom should be counted, although that had occurred before.
Nezu stopped himself.
That was not the relevant problem.
Pay attention to the lesson, he wrote.
The answer returned almost immediately.
I am.
A second line had been added beneath it.
And to you.
Nezu folded the paper twice, put it in his pocket and refused to look at Segu again. The slight movement of her shoulders told him she was laughing anyway.
The teacher noticed it as well. “Is something funny, Miss Brown?”
“No, sir.”
Nezu kept his attention on the board until Segu kicked the back of his chair.
He ignored her.
Lunch made avoidance considerably more difficult, primarily because the three of them usually ate together and suddenly changing that routine would have been far more suspicious than simply continuing it. Nezu knew this, and unfortunately Segu knew it too, because she reached their usual table first and selected her seat before either he or Akane could.
Akane sat opposite her.
That left the chair beside Akane.
Nezu stopped beside the table for a moment, looking at the empty chair while Segu calmly took a bite of her food with the expression of someone who had done absolutely nothing.
Akane looked at the chair, then at him. “Are you sitting?”
“Yes.”
He sat.
Segu continued chewing.
For the first several minutes, the conversation remained ordinary enough that Nezu began to think the morning might have been an isolated problem. One of their classmates had apparently been caught copying homework, and Segu had strong opinions about the incident, although most of them concerned the boy’s technique rather than the cheating itself. According to her, anyone intending to copy another student’s work should possess enough basic competence not to copy the other student’s name as well.
Akane laughed at that, and Nezu looked at her.
Again.
He caught himself faster this time, but apparently not fast enough.
Akane’s laughter faded into a small smile as she noticed him watching her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
Segu, who had been halfway through another bite, stopped eating.
Nezu noticed.
Akane noticed him noticing.
Segu looked down at her food with suspicious obedience and resumed eating as though she had heard nothing.
Akane turned her attention back to Nezu. “You were staring.”
“I was looking.”
“At me.”
“You were speaking.”
“I wasn’t.”
Nezu paused.
She had not been.
The smile on Akane’s face grew slightly, while Segu suddenly found her drink fascinating enough to require her complete attention. Nezu decided that continuing the conversation would only make the situation worse and returned to his food.
A few seconds later, something touched his knee beneath the table.
He glanced down and saw Akane moving her leg away from his.
“Sorry,” she said.
“It’s fine.”
There was nothing unusual about accidentally brushing against someone sitting beside him, so Nezu dismissed it and continued eating. When it happened again less than a minute later, however, he stopped.
Akane was already looking at him.
This time she did not apologise.
Something had changed in her expression. The initial awkwardness from that morning was still there, but behind it Nezu recognised something much more dangerous.
Curiosity.
Akane shifted slightly in her chair until her knee touched his again, and instead of moving away, she calmly picked up her drink.
Segu was still talking about something. Nezu knew this because he could hear her voice, but the actual contents of the conversation had become strangely difficult to follow. His attention had narrowed almost entirely to the small point of contact beneath the table.
There was no logical reason for that reaction. Physical contact with Akane was hardly new. She had grabbed his arms before, leaned against him, hugged him, and none of those things had ever caused this particular inability to concentrate.
Then his brain helpfully reminded him that she had also kissed him.
Warmth began spreading across his face.
Akane stopped drinking.
Her eyes widened very slightly, and Nezu understood immediately.
She had noticed.
He moved his leg away.
Akane followed.
Nezu narrowed his eyes at her, and the corner of her mouth twitched.
So that was what she was doing.
“Akane.”
“Hm?”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
Segu’s voice disappeared.
Akane’s expression was perfectly innocent, although the fact that her knee remained pressed against his made the performance considerably less convincing.
Nezu stared at her. “You’re doing that deliberately.”
“Doing what?”
Segu leaned sideways to look beneath the table.
Both Nezu and Akane reacted immediately. Akane pulled her leg back while Nezu shifted his chair away, and when Segu straightened again, her eyes moved slowly from one of them to the other.
“What are you two doing?”
“Nothing,” Akane said.
“Nothing,” Nezu said.
Segu stared at them for several seconds. “That was terrifying.”
Neither answered.
“You even said it at the same time.”
Akane looked away while Nezu returned to his food, but Segu had clearly progressed beyond simple curiosity.
“What happened yesterday?”
“We talked,” Nezu answered.
“I know you talked. About what?”
“Private matters.”
The moment the words left his mouth, Nezu realised he had made a mistake.
Akane looked at him.
Segu noticed.
The suspicion on her face changed immediately. She clearly had no idea what had happened, but she no longer doubted that there was something worth discovering.
“Oh.”
Nezu disliked that sound.
Akane apparently did too. “Segu.”
“Oh, don’t mind me.”
“You’re clearly minding us.”
“I’m eating.”
“You stopped eating.”
Segu looked down at the fork she was still holding and immediately took an unnecessarily large bite. “There.”
Nezu sighed.
Akane covered her mouth, but the movement of her shoulders gave her away. She was laughing at him again, and when Nezu looked at her, his attention betrayed him for what felt like the hundredth time that day and dropped toward her mouth.
Akane noticed.
Her laughter faded.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Yesterday returned without either needing to mention it, and the teasing confidence Akane had developed over the last few minutes disappeared as a faint colour reached her cheeks.
Nezu felt the same warmth return to his own face.
Segu slowly lowered her fork.
“Oh, this is interesting.”
Both of them turned toward her.
“What?” Akane asked.
Segu smiled. “Nothing.”
Nezu was beginning to hate that word.
It took him until the final lesson to identify what was happening.
Embarrassment.
Once he had a name for it, the symptoms were relatively easy to organise. Increased facial temperature, a desire to avoid attention, unusual awareness of how his actions might appear to other people, and difficulty maintaining eye contact under specific circumstances all matched closely enough. There were other responses that did not fit quite as neatly, particularly his repeated involuntary attention toward Akane, but those were easier to explain.
Attraction had already been established.
Embarrassment was new.
Nezu wrote the word in the corner of his notebook, examined it for a moment, then added a second line beneath it.
Trigger: Akane.
He stared at what he had written.
After several seconds, he crossed out the second line.
“What are you writing?”
Nezu closed the notebook before he had even fully processed the voice beside him.
Akane blinked at the speed of his reaction.
The lesson had ended while he was thinking, and most of the students were already leaving the classroom. He had been sufficiently distracted by his conclusions that he had not noticed her approaching.
“Nothing.”
Akane looked at the closed notebook. “You’re using that word a lot today.”
“It is useful.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
She leaned slightly closer to him, and Nezu moved back before he could stop himself.
Akane froze.
Then that expression appeared again.
Curiosity first.
Amusement immediately afterward.
Nezu sighed. “You’re doing it deliberately now.”
“Maybe.”
“Why?”
Akane considered the question for a moment before giving him a surprisingly straightforward answer. “Because it’s funny.”
Nezu stared at her.
Her smile widened. “And because yesterday you were the one testing things.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Nezu opened his mouth, considered several possible answers, and discovered that every single one of them made her argument stronger.
Akane waited.
When nothing came, she smiled triumphantly. “I thought so.”
“You are abusing information acquired during private experimentation.”
Akane laughed. “Private experimentation?”
“Yes.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
Nezu realised the problem with his choice of words approximately one second too late.
Akane stepped closer, but this time he refused to move. She tilted her head slightly as she studied him, clearly enjoying the fact that she had discovered a reaction he had never shown her before.
“So, did you figure it out?”
“What?”
“Why you’ve been acting strange all day.”
“I have not been acting strange.”
Akane simply stared at him.
Nezu reconsidered. “Not significantly.”
“Nezu.”
“Embarrassment.”
Her expression changed immediately.
Nezu continued before she could interpret the answer incorrectly. “I was unfamiliar with the response. I identified it during the last lesson.”
The amusement on Akane’s face softened. “You’ve never been embarrassed before?”
“Not that I remember.”
Something about the answer affected her more than he expected. She watched him silently for a few seconds, and when her smile returned, it was smaller and considerably warmer than before.
“And I embarrassed you?”
“Repeatedly.”
She looked entirely too pleased by that.
“That’s cute.”
Warmth immediately returned to Nezu’s face.
Akane’s eyes lit up.
He pointed at her. “That.”
“What?”
“You did it again.”
“I only called you cute.”
“Yes.”
Akane bit her lip to keep herself from laughing.
That was worse.
Nezu looked away.
Apparently giving up on containing herself, Akane laughed openly. “This is going to be fun.”
“No.”
“Definitely.”
“No.”
She moved beside him as they started toward the classroom door, deliberately walking close enough for their shoulders to touch.
Nezu looked at her.
Akane kept her eyes ahead with an expression of complete innocence.
“Akane.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You moved closer.”
“We’re walking through a door.”
“The door is two metres wide.”
“Maybe I like this side.”
Nezu stared at her for another moment before deciding there was no productive response.
Segu was waiting at the end of the corridor. Her eyes went first to Akane, then to Nezu, then to the suspiciously small distance separating them.
Nezu immediately stepped sideways.
Akane sighed. “You’re making it worse.”
“I am aware.”
“You weren’t until I said it.”
Nezu looked at her.
Akane smiled.
Segu’s expression became unbearable.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yes.”
The three of them started walking, and for once Segu asked nothing. Nezu knew her well enough not to interpret that silence as surrender. If anything, it meant she was still collecting information.
Akane’s hand brushed his.
Nezu looked down.
It could have been accidental.
He looked at her.
She was facing forward, but the corner of her mouth had risen.
Not accidental.
“This is harassment.”
Akane laughed.
Segu looked between them. “What is?”
“Nothing,” Akane answered.
Nezu glanced at her.
She glanced back.
Segu groaned. “I hate both of you.”
A quiet meow came from inside Nezu’s bag.
Segu pointed toward it. “Three of you.”
Kuro’s head emerged from the partially open top and looked first at Segu, then Akane, then Nezu. His nose moved as Akane reached over to scratch beneath his chin, and although he accepted the attention for a moment, his interest quickly shifted from her fingers to her scent.
He sniffed her hand.
Then he turned toward Nezu.
His nose moved again.
Back to Akane.
Then back to Nezu.
Nezu watched the sequence and understood what was happening before either girl did.
“No.”
Segu looked at him. “No what?”
“Kuro.”
The cat climbed farther out of the bag.
Akane frowned as Kuro leaned toward her again. “What is he doing?”
“Nothing.”
Kuro sniffed Akane.
Then Nezu’s collar.
Segu stopped walking.
Nezu continued.
“Nezu.”
“No.”
“Why does your cat think you and Akane smell the same?”
That stopped him.
Akane stopped beside him.
For several seconds, nobody said anything.
Segu’s eyes widened while colour rapidly spread across Akane’s face. Nezu considered several explanations, discarded each one almost immediately, then looked at Kuro as though the entire situation were somehow his fault.
The cat meowed.
Segu’s gaze moved from Kuro to Akane, then slowly toward Nezu.
Her mouth opened.
“We should go home,” Nezu said.
“What did you—”
“We should go home.”
He started walking again, and Akane followed with enough speed to make both of them look considerably more guilty than they already did.
Segu remained behind for less than a second.
“NEZU!”
Several students in the corridor turned toward them.
Nezu increased his pace while Akane hurried beside him, one hand covering her mouth as she tried unsuccessfully to contain her laughter.
“You don’t get to walk away from that!” Segu called after them.
“I am not walking away.”
“You are literally walking away!”
“We have somewhere to be.”
“HOME!”
“Correct.”
That finally destroyed what remained of Akane’s composure. She started laughing openly beside him, no longer caring about the students watching them or Segu rapidly closing the distance from behind.
Nezu looked at her.
Akane looked back.
The situation was objectively inconvenient. Segu was seconds away from interrogating him, Kuro had somehow become an investigative threat, and Akane had spent most of the day deliberately provoking reactions he had only just learned how to identify.
And yet, somewhere in the middle of all of it, Nezu smiled.
It was small enough that anyone else might have missed it.
Akane didn’t.
Her laughter stopped as she stared at him, and Nezu noticed the sudden change immediately.
“What?”
Akane shook her head, although her own smile remained.
“Nothing.”
< Previous Next >