I almost walked away. That was the Average thing to do. Don't get involved. Don't draw attention. Let the untouchable goddess deal with her own divine shoelace.
She was there.
She shook her head violently. Then, with the slow, deliberate motion of someone pushing a boulder uphill, she reached into her own bag and pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook. She flipped it open to a fresh page, her hand shaking as she uncapped a pen.
"The buckle is stiff," I said, my voice surprisingly calm. "Mine did the same thing last week." Meeting Komi After School
The word friend hung in the air between us, fragile as a soap bubble.
I was the last one out of the classroom, as usual. The hallway was a long, echoing tunnel of fading sunlight. As I turned the corner toward the shoe lockers, I stopped.
Another tear fell onto the notebook page, smudging the ink. She quickly wrote underneath: I almost walked away
I didn't reach for her shoe. That would be too much. Too forward. Instead, I reached into my school bag and pulled out a small, battered tin. I opened it, revealing a tiny block of beeswax I used for the slide of my trombone.
She stared at me, frozen.
She flinched. Her head snapped up, and her wide, dark eyes met mine. They were pools of pure panic. She looked like a deer that had just realized the hunter was not only there, but had been watching for hours. Her lips parted, but no sound came. Just a small, breathy gasp. Don't draw attention
"There," I said, looking up.
But then I saw it. A single, perfect tear escape her eye and trace a slow path down her cheek.
The strap of her loafer wasn't a complex knot. It was a simple buckle. But the leather was stiff and new, and her fingers, elegant and long, just couldn't seem to get the necessary grip. Her knuckles were white.
All that perfection. All that distance. It wasn't arrogance. It wasn't godhood. It was terror. A prison of her own making, with bars of social anxiety so thick she couldn't even ask for help with her own shoe.
But today, the air felt different. Charged. Like the second before a summer thunderstorm.