This Is Not a Tragedy

7 | What the Birds Say

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

Two weeks have passed, and Hitori has gotten even better at speaking. To me, anyway. His speech has become more fluid, but it's not perfect; he goes back to stuttering or taking long pauses when he asks for a favor. Though, at least it's never both at the same time anymore.

He rocks from side to side as he takes bites out of his strawberry cream bread.

"He—Hitori." On the other hand, I still slip up, forgetting to call him by his name.

"Yesh?" He looks at me, mouth full of bread.

"What do you eat at home?"

"Hm? Um... food?"

I fight a smile. "Right, but what kind of food?" I wasn't paying much attention that time I visited his home.

"Normal food."

His communication skills need major work. "Rice?"

"Yes."

"Meat?"

"Yes."

"Vegetables?"

"Yes. My father eats it all," he says with a casual expression.

"Your father eats your food?!" He won't even let his son eat?

"Yes. I cook it."

It's then that I realize there's some miscommunication going on. "Oh, " I say, relaxing my muscles, "you cook for your father and yourself."

"Yes. Does Natsu-senpai cook?"

My mother usually does the cooking. But when she's not there or too depressed to cook, I'll just make rice balls or miso soup. They're about the only things I know how to fix and can stomach. "Not really."

"I see." He finishes his bread.

If he cooks at home, why doesn't he fix himself a lunch box? Then again, I'm not sure if that'd be more calories than the bread. Meat. He needs meat. "How tall are you?"

"158 centimeters." He shoots a glance over to me as he wipes his sleeve across his mouth. "I was born early, and also my mother was small. I look more like her. But... I'll grow more." He pouts a bit and looks away while muttering, "Probably."

That's a bit ironic, seeing as I supposedly look more like my father. It's one of the things I think my mother holds against me.

"How tall is Natsu-senpai?"

I try to remember back to our school physical exams in April. "181 centimeters." Since exams a year ago, I've grown a full five centimeters.

"Tall." Hitori picks up his sketchbook and pencil. "Um... This weekend... N-Natsu-senpai..." With each word, his head lowers further. "Go to—together... Um..." His body begins to tremble.

"Where?"

My words have their intended effect; he stops shaking. "Pardon? Ah... bookstore..." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. "I need to buy some textbooks... to help with studying. And I thought... Natsu-senpai... Um... what's the word... The best... The best book..."

"Oh, you want my help choosing a book?"

"Yes. Please help me."

I really shouldn't meet him outside of school. I shouldn't.

He's staring at me, shiny eyes hopeful.

I bite my lip and look away. "Sure." I'm an idiot, this is reckless, and I'm setting myself up for danger. Holding back a sigh, I glance at him.