Nothing But Everything

(part 1)

This was an ordinary story of highschool life: boring teachers versus dedicated ones, nerds got bullied, boys met girls, youth loves, cliques and crushes... Really, you wouldn’t think this worth your time, but I wouldn’t care. No one could see a thing from the exact same point of view after all.

So, here I was, telling you the story of my younger self as a new student in a famous highschool in Tokyo.

Oh, forgive me for not introducing myself.

My name is Kawashima Umika, and I am twenty seven years old.

*****Ten years ago*****

“I am Kawashima Umika. I come from Hokkaido. Yoroshiku,” After introducing myself with my usual flat tone, I bowed slightly to the rest of the class.

“Shida,” my teacher called out a name, and I saw a girl whose hair was tied in a low ponytail raised her hand.

She is beautiful. That’s what I thought as I saw her cracked a smile when the teacher asked her to show me around the school later.

A few minutes after, I had sat down behind her. She turned around and held out a hand to me which I took rather awkwardly. I was never good with kindhearted person. I would prefer the indifference one for it just needed me to ignore them as a response.

“Hi, I’m Shida Mirai, the class representative. Just tell me if you meet any difficulty, ‘kay?”

She flashed a bright smile, and I only nodded to respond her kind welcome. Later I knew that she was always in the top ten among all the students in my grade, and was always the second rank in my class. It once surprised me because in my opinion Mirai, as she asked me to call her, was so smart, even the smartest among all I had met. I wondered then what kind of person that said to be always in the first rank in the class.

“He is absent today, but he’ll be back tomorrow,” Mirai told me once I asked her, still with her smiling face.

My first day in the school was completely spent with Mirai. I was not enthusiastic for touring, but refusing her kindness would be rude, wouldn’t it? Just within a day I found out that Mirai was popular among students. Well, how could she not? I had mentioned that she was beautiful, right? And when I said beautiful, it was not solely because someone had pretty face and flawless skin, but because they had something I called charming aura. Not every pretty face was impressing, but Mirai was different. She was not the prettiest girl in the school, for there still was supermodel Nishiuchi Mariya whom everone adored as the princess of the school. But Mirai had something that would pull people to her. I wasn’t sure whether it was her warm smile or the bright glint in her eyes, or her attitude who was super kind to others, but she had it. Her parents were the owner of a  nationalwide holding company. Rich, smart, kind, pretty. Mirai was just perfect. No doubt then why she was loved by everyone, or so it seemed as I could never be sure whether the people around her were sincere in their acts.

Compared to her, I did not have as many friends. I even wondered if there was one I could call friend. In my previous school I was known as antisocial. I rarely interacted with other students. I chose to drown myself in books. It was not that I disliked making friends, it was just that I did not want to bother people to try understanding me. Or maybe, I just did not like to explain myself to others at all. Most of the time, I was emotionless. Thus people often misunderstood me as uncapable to feel and arrogant. Yet, again, I didn’t really care. I knew who I was, so they could just say as they pleased.

Compared to Mirai I was nothing. That’s what everyone would probably think but me. I never once felt inferior because of not having many friends nor coming from middle class. I was just happy with myself. I would not care about anything else as long as I had my older brother. My older brother was the only one I could not lost.

The second day in my school, I carelessly took the wrong hallway that resulted in me getting lost. Sometimes I wondered why the school was so big, but then I shrugged it off as I had assumption that rich people always like everything big to show off their wealth. Mansion, limousine, golf... you named it.

I pushed a closed door and entered a creepy hallway. No one was on sight. I frowned. It seemed my sense of direction had gotten worse. I was about to turn around and return to the previous hallway when suddenly I heard faint melody. The up beat one. It came from a certain room in which the light was , indicating someone was inside. It was my luck that the room had french windows so without needing to tiptoe I could peek inside through the window glass.

And he was there.

A guy at my age, dancing with the sharpness I would doubletake to glance. Oh, yes, I forgot to mention that I liked dancing so much as though it was the most precious thing in my life after my brother. Thus I knew what a good dancer the one I was seeing that time. His moves were precise and, while it was clearly calculated, it never lost the sense of freely done. He got the right rythms, giving the right amount of strength when it needed to be emphasized, and kept the pressure low when it needed to be slow and gentle. Honestly, he was one of the best dancers I had ever encountered.

Knock! Knock!

The sound of the glass was knocked pulled me to my sense. I was too drawned to watch the performance that I did not realize someone had noticed my presence. It was another guy in the room. The dancer guy had stopped, and turned to look at my direction. The second guy smiled at me which I did not respond.

The french window was opened immediately, and I didn’t feel the need to run or such for I wasn’t embarrassed being found out watching them.

“Who are you, Miss? I never saw you in the school,” the second guy asked me.

“I learned that we should introduce ourself before asking someone to,” I said with flat tone. “And I don’t think you could remember everyone in this school.”

The guy let out a polite chuckle, replying with amused glint in his eyes, “For not knowing me, it just proves that you’re new in this school.”

I arched a brow as he purposely paused. When I did not react, he eventually shrugged. “I am Kamiki Ryunosuke, the student council president. And I have memorized everyone’s data just so you know.”

“Kawashima Umika. New student here,” I replied, still in my flat tone.

“Oh, yeah, I have heard about you, but I haven’t review your data that I didn’t recognize you.”

Instead of replying him, I asked, “Who is the guy that dancing just now?”

He looked over his shoulder, checking on the other guy whose whereabout was unknown right that time.

“Just forget what you’ve seen, Kawashima-san,” Ryunosuke said with a polite smile, but I sensed a threat in his voice.

“So what if I don’t?” I challenged.

He maintained his kind face, “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

“Is dancing forbidden in this school?” I could not help but ask.

“No. Dancing is allowed.”

“Then why should I keep it as a secret?”

“You need not to know the reason. Just follow what I said, and you’ll be safe.”

I knotted my brows. Did he just threaten my life? I asked to myself.

“Let’s go, Ryu,” all of a sudden the dancing boy appeared. He had changed into his school uniform and shouldered his bag.

“Wait, how about this girl?”

The dancing guy eyed me briefly before answering, “Just let her be. She won’t tell anyone.”

“How could you be so confident about it?” I was always liked this. I was thrilled with challenge, and the guy before me gave off a challenging vibe.

Instead of answering me, he turned his back and walked toward the door on the other side of wall. Kamiki heaved a sigh, and after giving her the last warning, he stepped after his friend. And that was the time that I remembered I should find a way to my classroom.

I was not good in direction, thus it needed much time for me to find the right way. It had been the third lesson when I arrived at the class. I drew a breath before knocking the door. The teacher turned and had the investigating stare pointed at me. I was ready to be scolded or such, but it escaped my estimation when Mirai stood up.

“Please let her in, Sensei. She is new here. She might get lost. I should have anticipated it, I’m sorry,” she apologized to the teacher.

Upon this occurence, the teacher eventually gestured her to sit down. Yet, when I walked pass Mirai’s table, I saw him again. The dancing guy! He sat down on the window seat, looking outside without giving any care to the lesson. I forced myself to ignore him though my curiosity was growing.

When I sat down, Mirai turned around and whispered to me, asking whether I was alright. I nodded and muttered a thank you which she replied with her thumb up and a smile.

The first break came when Mirai grabbed my hand and led me walk toward the dancing guy.

“I’ll introduce you to the top rank of our class,” Mirai said.

I did not like to be dragged without being asked, but I wanted to appease my curiosity about the dancing guy.

“Yama-chan, you forgot your lunch again, don’t you?” Mirai talked casually with the impassive looking guy. “You should thank me for this.” Mirai placed a neatly wrapped bento in his table.

“I can just buy it in the cafeteria,” he said uncaringly.

“Yeah, I know, I know, but I have brought it anyway. So, you have to eat it,” Mirai turned to me without waiting for his reply, continuing, “And I want to introduce you to our new friend. Ne, Kawashima-san, this is Yamada Ryosuke. And Yamachan, this is Kawashima Umika.”

“Hnn,” he responded with audible sigh.

“Why are you so rude?” Mirai protested but he fended it off, and I just watched their interaction and made an observation. The two of them seemed had a close relationship.

“Sorry about that, Kawashima-san. He is always like that, but dont’t take it to your heart, alright?” she told me after Ryosuke got up from his seat and walked out from the class.

“No worry,” I replied shortly.

She smiled as usual, “I’ll eat with my friends. Want to join us?”

“No, thanks.”

“Oh, alright. I’ll be off then,” she left me all alone in the class.

“Wait,” I suddenly remembered something I wanted to know. When I saw Mirai waited for me, I continued, “What is the b