Cotton Candy

39. The Silent Music Club Member

A long time ago, she wondered if she'd find anywhere that she could belong in at school. But there were many unsaid rules on the compound, and not the official kind. Things like: The first four tables in the cafeteria were reserved for the popular girls; the stadium for the jocks, and the classrooms for the rest of the friend groups that neither stood out nor were called 'outcasts'. 

Then there were the 'loners'. People with nowhere to go, and no one to go with. It was still fine during freshman year, since she had her brother, three years older, with her. Sure, there was some trouble from the female schoolmates, but it gave her a sanctuary to retreat to during lunch, since he was the student council president. But then he graduated, and she was alone.

Distanced, empty, quiet.

It felt like she could drown in their aimless banter of which movie to watch next or which girl was the prettiest in class. It was suffocating, painfully suffocating; listening to the noise as it filled the room and rose up to her lips like the canal water turned mud-brown from the storm. It was disgusting, revolting; it made her want to retch. Sometimes she wondered if the noise bottled up inside her was louder than the chatter outside. She hated it, all the talking, the sickeningly saccharine scent of too many sprits of perfume. She hated it so much that she turned the music in her headphones up and held her breath until she was out of the classroom.

Somewhere along the line, she stopped caring. She realized that it was easier to ignore them than to be dragged into that pool of murky emotions she was drowning in. Lunch was then spent in the deserted stairs, too far from the classrooms and too close to the clubrooms to be used frequently during lunchtime. The other school block prevented sunlight from filtering through the mottled grey windows, casting long shadows on the walls and the steps as she climbed them till the landing of the fourth floor. A simple homemade bento was eaten before she brought out her sketchbook, and started drawing.

It was funny how her emotions were decided by the songs she was currently listening too. Even her dull frustration was dissipated when a cutesy love song came on and an equally cute character was drawn. Because she was searching for ways to escape, she drew; because she was looking for a persona to carry her burdens, she wrote songs; because she wanted to fill the silence with wordless feelings, she played instruments. Looking back, she realized that the different forms of art were a means of distraction from the world before they became hobbies, and later, an indispensable part of her.

It was because they didn't need to be formulated in perfect sentences, and their words don't need to be grammatically correct. It didn't need to be calculated with a formula, and they didn't have an answer that ought to be memorized. It was her own world that could be pulled apart and built up as she pleased; that could be dyed in any color she wished it to be; that could have as many or as little people she wanted there to be. It was something she could call her own.

Because it shielded her from the dirt and the grime of the social circle she was never a part of, it saved her. And, in a few moments, it would create a fork in her fate that would change the rest of her life. Of course, this was all unknown to the girl whose mind was lost in the music in her ears and the scratching of her pencil on paper.

She was so oblivious that she didn't notice the footsteps echoing up the stairwell, or the two girls rushing up the stairs.

"I told you to check that you had everything before we left, didn't I?!"

"I said I'm sorry, alright?"

The lone student jerked back into reality when the voices of the two pierced the silence punctuated by the clicking of a mechanical pencil. Instantly, she panicked, scrambling to gather her things and find a place to escape to. The only room on the fourth floor was the music room, she realized, and froze.

"Hmm? Oh, hi!" One of them, shorter than the other with her black hair cut into a bob, greeted. The taller girl, though still a few centimeters short of the awkward student, looked curiously at a piece of paper left on the step, a sketch that she never quite completed.

"Did you draw this?" She picked it up, and her friend peeked over.

The brunette winced, cursing at herself for leaving that there. "...Woah, this is so lame..." That voice was back, the one she ignored and blocked out. It wasn't just a female voice, it was a combination of both genders and many tones, making it inhuman. She shivered involuntarily, forcing the ugly laughter away and driving her gaze to the ground.

"It's so good! It'll be a miracle if I could draw half as well as you~!" She grinned, and the former's eyes widened.

"Uh...th-thanks." She reached out to take the forgotten sketch back, but their eyes were now glued to another piece of paper sticking out of her file.

The blank club registration form hung from the top of the folder forlornly, slightly crumpled and dog-eared.

"Hey, do you have a club?" The ravenette asked, stepping closer to the girl that was desperately trying to put distance between them.

"No." She answered flatly, hoping to drive them away with her icy tone.

"Really?!" The other cut in, jumping to her side enthusiastically.

'Why did they get even closer...?'

"Yeah." Feeling pincered in between her schoolmates, she found an empty spot on the ground to refocus her gaze on, playing with her long bangs to keep calm. "If that's all, I'll be going–"

She was cut off by a warm hand clasping around her wrist, and turned around to see the taller girl holding her back.

"I'm Minato Kousaka, and this is Yamamoto Arisu," She introduced, making the flustered girl even more confused. "You are...?"

"Tsugure...Misaki." Hoping that the two weird girls would be satisfied with that answer, she gave them the answer they were waiting to hear.

"Misaki-san~ would you like to join the music club?"

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