apotelesma - o. tooru

dix.

There are certain times in life where you can smell stress in the air. It's usually a particularly noticeable scent, one that rises and hangs there, stuffing up the atmosphere. It chokes you, making it difficult to breathe and remain focused on what you're supposed to be doing. Coupled with tension and anxiety, it makes for a bitter cocktail no one wants to drink. And while it's something that can be smelled from far, it also signals something else: the arrival of exams.

It's exam week in Aoba Johsai, and while for students in the lower classes it might not seem like the biggest deal, the high school's third years aren't exactly the calmest bunch in the area.

There are late-night study sessions, too-early mornings, and copious amounts of coffee down in one hour. There are flying pages and books tossed to the side, computer screens that are brightened to the highest degree, and beds that are partially slept in. Phone calls at two in the morning, and text messages at the crack of dawn.

This is reality for third-years at Seijoh.

It's delirious, enough to make someone go fully mad. But they can't afford to lose their cool now, not when they're extremely close to their goal. Not when they're that close to finally extending their roots past the confines of the white walls. Freedom and the light of the outside world beckons to them, but they need to sacrifice a little bit more of a good night's sleep to get there.

Home is the only real haven at this point. Cafes that are usually frequented by friends in the evening now lack their usual customers, who have wandered back to the comfort of their own kitchens before they throw themselves back into their books. The park, where sports teams are usually seen putting in a little extra training, are now devoid of anybody doing jumping jacks in the far corners of the grounds, save the exercise-hungry residents of Miyagi town.

It's at home where the Iwaizumi cousins are gathered around the kitchen counter, a stack of notes placed at both ends, with physics and math books open before them, notepads strewn across and the odd calculator with 2+2 typed into it.

They're silent, which is a record for the both of them, given how they're usually bickering about something or the other. There's a mutual understanding between the both of them however; a silent promise that shouldn't be broken.

Hajime mutters something underneath his breath, making Mitsuha look up from the integration formulas she was looking at. Her cousin slides her his book, pointing out one of the problems in it. "Is this even required?" he asks, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

It takes one quick glance from her to make her shake her head in response, before going back to her formulas. Hajime nods and takes the book back silently, before flipping it to the next chapter.

The scratching of pencils against yellow note paper is the only sound from the both of them, apart from the usual shuffling or finger-tapping. The kettle on the stove hisses softly, while the rice cooker bubbles softly, the red light flickering. The clock on the wall ticks away slowly, as the evening sun descends past the horizon and the moon begins to shine. They exchange books between the both of them without a word as the owl outside hoots.

"So," Hajime says, breaking the silence. Mitsuha's eyes are glued to the physics book before, a calculator in her hand. "You guys kissed?"

The clattering of the calculator on the ground is louder than when the kettle hisses loudly, steam rising out of its spout. Mitsuha's eyes are wide in shock, while Hajime gives her a sly look. She bends down, her fingers fumbling around until they grasp onto the plastic body of the calculator, and she picks it up, clearing her throat as she places it on the counter. She breathes in and out, rolls her eyes at him, and goes back to her physics book.