Walking down the hall, I absentmindedly step only on the dark tiles, avoiding the light ones and anywhere the sunlight touches. I left class a few minutes early to avoid the rush towards the cafeteria; the push and noise of the other students is unbearable and I try to grab food before they start to fill in with their loud voices and their stares. I don't like the cafeteria, but I'm feeling very hungry; I slept in too late and missed getting breakfast before class, so I spent all morning trying to pay attention to the lesson while I wrestled with an upset stomach I hope no one heard rumbling. I think I'll just take my food to the library and read in my corner; students aren't allowed to bring food and drink inside, but if I sneak in, no one will notice. Even if they did, I don't think the lady at the counter would try and stop me. I think she may be just as jumpy as I am and there's been a few times where we've startled each other among the stacks and sent each other running.
I can eat there in peace, I'm sure. I have plenty of time over lunch and I don't have to get back right away when the bell rings. It makes me feel guilty sometimes slipping out of class while all of the other students are hard at work, but I know that it's better than what else could happen. I don't want to cause them any trouble and distract them from their work when things get too much for me to handle. It's better if I just slip out and avoid their attention.
No one pays attention to me anymore.
That's all right, the alternative is worse.
I try not to jump when the bell rings, but I do a little bit. I quickly scan the hall, looking for anyone who may have seen my reaction or anyone else skipping out early like I am. No one appears, so I keep walking, head down, arms wrapped tightly around the book against my chest. I have a little time while the teachers give some last minute instructions before everyone floods into the hallway like a swarm, so I quicken my pace to avoid getting caught in it.
I can hear voices coming from somewhere, but I'm not sure which direction they're from. They bounce against the walls and tile floor and get louder with every second.
I dart back and forth looking for some place to hide while they pass, but there aren't any hallways to duck into, just a few closed doors, all of them probably locked. Maybe I could duck into one of the supply closets? That worked last time.
From the turn in the hall ahead, a small mob of girls walk into my hall and heads straight for me, chatting away and laughing at each other, their pleasant conversation just adding to the momentum of the train barreling towards me. Their cheerfulness, something usually good and pleasant, only makes their presence even more impossible to avoid and shut out.
Just step to the side and let them pass, I tell myself, they won't look at you.
They get closer and I hug the wall to give them as much space as I can.
I occupy myself by staring at the clock on the wall.
Just ignore me. I'm not here. I'm not here.
If one of them looks at you, just nod and smile, be friendly. Don't be weird.
One of them turns slightly away from her friends and glances in my direction. I try to avoid it, but we lock eyes.
I try to smile, but I feel paralyzed with her looking at me, straight at my face.
I can't.
I grab the handle to the door I've been backed against, tear it open and dive inside, shutting it once I'm in. Clenching my eyes tightly shut, I lean back against the door to keep them out.
Through the thick barrier between me and the hall, I hear the group of girls get farther and farther away, putting space and safety between me and them. I'm shaking slightly and I'm breathing in quick gasps. I breathe slowly until I've calmed down a bit and I sigh in a little disgust at myself and relief that they're gone and didn't harass me.
“Hello?”
My whole body seizes up and my eyes open wide in alarm when I take in the room I just entered.
It's an empty classroom, one of the ones that the school uses for supplies and storage. There's a few easels with paintings drying on them and a few chairs are stacked up on top of tables. In the center of the room, next to a large window, is a single table with a single occupant.
He's a young man, but even sitting down as he is, I can see he's the tallest boy I've ever seen. He's definitely foreign, because he has wavy blonde hair in tiny curls atop his head and when he turns in my direction, he looks at me with very pale, blue eyes.
My heart stops beating.
The noon sunlight comes in an at angle, just enough to make his hair glow around his head like it was a halo and reflect off the surface of the table. It takes me a couple moments, but I see he has a tea set placed in front of him, steam rising from both the spout and the teacup he holds in his long fingers. He has very pale skin and gentle features, a softness around his eyes verses the angular cheekbones and slightly pointed nose on his face. He smiles at me and I'm paralyzed by the sight of it. I don't know whether to scream or fall to my knees.
He's so... pretty.
“Hello?” he says again in a light voice, almost a whisper. It takes me a minute to shake myself awake from seeing him, but that's when I realize that he's been looking just past me towards the door and isn't facing directly towards me.
The young man keeps smiling when he turns back to his teacup and takes a sip from it. “There's no reason to hide, you're not interrupting me at all. Please, don't feel as if you're intruding.“ He grins to himself. ”You seem to have found my secret retreat.“
I'm still leaning against the door, still silent, still slightly shaking from the suddenness of everything and the shock of his appearance.
The young man tilts his head and looks in deep concentration for a moment. “You're more than welcome to join me if you'd like.”
I blink a few times and, though I'm hesitant at first, I raise my hand and wave at him. Maybe it would just be a greeting, but if what I think is right....
He doesn't turn towards me or acknowledge my movement, he just sips at his cup, patiently waiting for whatever my reaction to his invitation will be.
That's when I realize he's blind.
There are a lot of blind students at Yamaku, I've seen them before. Most of them are together in one class, though I've never met one or had a conversation with one of them.
Then again, I've never had a conversation with anyone here before, so why would them being blind make it any different?
The two of us are left in our respective stations, me against the door and him at the table, drinking silently while I hesitate and shake. I could just leave, I don't want to interrupt him, but he did say I wasn't intruding and offered me to join.
I can't do that, though. I've... never done something like that before.
I swallow the lump in my throat, debating what to do; I don't want to be rude and ignore him and pretty soon that's what I'll be if I just stand here silently, as if he would forget I was there just because he's blind. I don't want him to think I making fun of him, that would be horrible. Even worse, he may think I assume he's stupid or that I'm playing a trick on him.
My choice is made for me when my stomach rumbles, reminding me of how hungry I am and that I was heading towards the cafeteria for food.
I can feel my cheeks turn scalding hot in both embarrassment and shame over the sound. Even the boy goes still and blushes slightly, but he quickly recover and starts to laugh.
It's very light. At first I'm horrified that he's laughing at me, but it's a gentle amusement, an honest laugh that sets me at ease and calms my worry.
His hands searching out, he recovers a small cloth bag at the foot of his chair, bringing out a pair of small wrapped sandwich rolls. “If you're hungry,” he offers, “you're more than welcome to share with me. I'm a very light eater and I usually end up with leftovers.“
The offer of something to eat is enough to get me to finally separate from the wall. Clutching my book to my chest, I inch my way towards the table and the chair opposite of him, pulling it out just enough for me to slip in and sit down. He smiles, facing the sound of the chair and places the half sandwich in it's paper wrapping on the table, halfway between us.
I blink between it and him, but when he starts to unwrap his own, I carefully take up the one he offered to me. He must pick up on the sound of the paper rustling, because he smiles again at my direction and seems pleased.
He slowly unwraps his lunch and folds the paper carefully, using his fingers to feel out each corner until it's a neat square which he uses to place the roll on. “Like I was saying, you seem to have found my secret hiding place. I usually come here for lunch to have some time to myself, though I don't mind having company, not at all. I'm just a little surprised anyone bothered to check in on this room considering the bell just rang.“
He takes a small bite of food and chews it very carefully. I do the same, trying not to stare at him. I don't really know what to do with my eyes while he's talking; it's not like I make eye contact when I actually do talk to people, but with him it's weird being unsure of what to look at. I guess I should act normal, but that seems silly when I know he can't see me, since normal for me is avoiding people's looks. Most of my problems come from people looking at me, at my face, so I'm not sure how I feel with him around. It's a little nice knowing that he won't stare.
On the other hand, I feel a little weird staring at him myself, especially at his eyes, which I think I'm doing too much. It's like I'm trying to look at something I shouldn't look at or I'm not allowed to. It's especially hard because his eyes are such a pretty color, I just end up dumbly staring at them whenever he looks in my direction.
He finishes chewing his bite, dabbing at his lips, two precise movements, with a nearby napkin. He makes a slightly startled sound when he's finished. “Oh, I haven't introduced myself, I'm terribly sorry.“ He sits straighter than before, like he was making a presentation. “My name is Liam Satou. I'm the class representative for 3-2. It's nice to meet you.”
Liam.
That's a nice name.
I feel a compulsion to respond, but it only comes out as a couple tiny gasps and murmurs.
“That's all right,” he says gently, “you don't need to answer.” He smiles a little shyly. “I imagine you can hear me since you accepted my offer to sit and have lunch, so I don't think you're one of the students at Yamaku with hearing difficulties. If you don't wish to speak, though, please don't feel obligated to do so on my behalf. I wouldn't consider it rude at all.“
I clamp my dry mouth shut gratefully and occupy it with gently chewing at the sandwich roll. I'm glad he's not offended; I would have liked to try and introduce myself, though I know I would have just been an embarrassment to myself and said something stupid.
In a way, I'm glad I don't have to; he can't see what I look like and I don't want to ruin things by letting him hear me stutter.
“My duties in class often keep me very busy, so I like to have my lunch quietly here every day,“ he says conversationally, filling the empty air between us. “I don't get many visitors or take my lunch with others often, so this is rather a nice change of pace. I imagine you were on your way to get your own lunch at the cafeteria. You must have taken a roundabout way to get there, we're a bit off the track. Not too mention that the bell only just rang, so like me, you must have left class early.“
I blush and I know it has nothing to do with it, but he smiles and laugh in that same way again, brightly and gently. “I sometimes find things a bit too hectic in my class. My duties as representative are fulfilling and I enjoy working with the other students, but I guess you understand what it means when you just need some time to yourself to gather your wits and recharge, yes?“
I nod between my tiny bites. He must take my silence as agreement, because he keeps talking. “It's not difficult work, just very taxing at times. I honestly enjoy helping out our teacher, Mrs. Miyagi, with the schoolwork. It's an interest of mine, I've always wanted to be a teacher, so I imagine the best way to do that is to get experience helping out in class as representative. I help Mrs. Miyagi with grading at times, but mostly it's just following up with the other students and making sure they understand the material and turn in their papers on time. Still, it's experience, but it's a little stressful. I try to take a little time to myself every day. Maybe that's a little selfish, but it helps me focus.“
He sips at his cup, drinking the tea, and I notice the pleasant smell of vanilla in the air. With his long fingers delicately searching out, he finds the teapot and pours himself some more, then takes an empty cup on the tray and flips it over, using both hands to feel and position everything where he needs it. “Would you care for some tea? It's black vanilla, I find it very relaxing.“
I'm amazed watching him work, every move very careful and precise, and his question knocks me out of my fascination. I make a sound of assent and he pours me a cup, setting it out on the table for me to take. I do so and after letting the aroma curl around my nose a little, I take a sip to try it out. It's not too hot, but a little strong, and I take smaller sips of it until I get used to the taste. The hot liquid warms me all the way down to my tummy and it collects in a nice and warm feeling that courses through me and even sets my trembling fingers still.
I breathe a contended sigh and Liam smiles at the sound. “I take it you approve. I'm glad to hear.”
I feel my cheeks color a little and I occupy myself by continuing to eat the roll he gave me.
For a while he and I just sit in total silence, not speaking or even acknowledging each other. I'm used to not taking part in interaction, but I get a little concerned that maybe I'm boring him or being a nuisance by not responding when he talked before. Every time I look up at Liam's face, though, he seems more than happy to continue in silence, a small smile on his face as he quietly chews his food or sips his tea.
When I have to talk to people, I'm always bothered by how loud they are, how active and off putting they can be. It's not just the stares, it's the noise and activity, how they're always moving and doing... things... that set me off and send me running. I know most of them don't care about my face, my scars, but I still see them looking, staring at me. Some of them are just curious, others are fascinated and it gets to me.
Liam doesn't have that problem. Not only can he not see my scars, but he seems totally content to remain in silence while still acknowledging my presence. I don't think I've ever experienced a comfortable silence with someone like this, but it feels like I'm a part of it, like I'm not being ignored even though he isn't speaking to me. For some weird reason, saying absolutely nothing to each other feels, in a strange way, very fulfilling. It's not a conversation, but it is something social, something shared between two people. I've never felt it before, but it's rather nice to just be here in the quite with someone without any expectations for either one of us to carry a conversation. I certainly couldn't do it and Liam seems more than happy with the shared silence between us.
More time passes, I don't know how long, I lose track. Liam fills his teacup and offers me more whenever he does, showing my acceptance by placing the cup on the table which he takes and fills. We both eat our sandwiches and, even though it's just half of a wrapped lunch, it tastes better than most of the lunches I have by myself.
The bell rings and it makes me jump, the sound of which puts a concerned look on Liam's face which he quickly replaces with a neutral expression. “That time already? The lunch hour always seems to last longer that that.“ He begins to take care of the tea set and clean up and I again find myself amazed by how carefully he does the simplest action. I want to offer some help, but I don't want to get in the way of his choreographed routine.
Liam takes his bag after putting the carefully folded wrapper from his food into his pocket. He then takes a bundle of white and red sticks from his bag which easily snaps into a guidance cane like the one I've seen other blind students use. “I have to return to my class for representative duties. Will you be all right? Would you like me to escort you back to your own class?“
I think about it for a second, but I don't feel like I want to leave just yet. I still kind of want to go to the library, though I feel more relaxed than I did when I slipped out of class just a little while ago, so I don't feel like I need it as much as I did before. His offer is nice, but I would feel a little bad forcing another student, especially a blind one, to bring me to my class.
Again he takes my silence as answer enough. “It was very nice to meet you. If you'd ever like to visit again, like I said, I'm usually here at lunch.“
There's a moment of silence where I don't say anything and he looks either a little uncomfortable or concerned with my silence before he nods and heads towards the door.
“I...”
He stops in his tracks and tilts his head to listen to my tiny squeak.
“I'm... Hanako.”
Liam turns towards my direction, a very pleased smile on his face. “Hello, Hanako,” he says in a little curious tone. “Thank you for sharing lunch with me. My offer still stands.“
I'm rooted to my chair as I watch him leave.
That night, before getting ready for bed, I put my things where they belong and find the paper wrapping for the sandwich Liam gave me wadded up in my book bag. At first I'm about to throw it away, but I hesitate, then carefully fold it like I saw him do and pin it to the wall of my bedroom, if only to remind myself that the lunch we shared actually happened and wasn't a dream or something I read in a book.