Lunch Time With Her

The classroom was finally clean. Desks wiped, chairs stacked, floor swept.

Rin exhaled softly. Done. She could finally go home.

She grabbed her bag and turned toward the door—but Anko was already standing there, casually leaning against the frame. Waiting.

Rin hesitated. Was she blocking her on purpose?

"…Are you leaving?" Rin asked, gripping her bag strap.

Anko hummed, glancing at the empty classroom. "Yeah. But I figured we could leave together."

Rin blinked. What?

Leave together?

For a moment, Rin just stood there, unsure how to respond. No one ever waited for her. No one ever walked home with her.

She should say no. That would be easier. That would be normal.

But before she could find the words, Anko stretched her arms behind her head and grinned. "Unless you're scared of being seen with me?" she teased.

Rin's face heated. "That's not—!"

Anko just laughed. "Relax, I'm joking." Then she nodded toward the door. "C'mon."

Rin hesitated.

This felt weird. Anko wasn't supposed to talk to her. Wasn't supposed to notice her.

And yet—she was waiting.

After a moment, Rin sighed and walked forward. Side by side.

They stepped into the hallway, the last echoes of students' voices fading as most had already gone home. The school was quieter now. Rin usually liked it that way. But today, she wasn't alone.

It was unsettling.

Anko walked at a relaxed pace, hands in her pockets, as if she had all the time in the world. Rin, on the other hand, kept her head slightly lowered, focusing on her own footsteps.

A few passing students glanced at them, and Rin felt their stares.

She wasn't imagining it. People were noticing.

Why wouldn't they?

Hiroshi Anko—the girl who was always surrounded by friends—was walking beside her.

Rin shifted uncomfortably, gripping her bag tighter. She shouldn't care, but the attention made her stomach twist.

Anko must have noticed because she suddenly said, "You okay?"

Rin stiffened. "I'm fine."

Anko gave her a sideways glance. "You're walking like you're trying to disappear."

Rin flushed. "I'm not—"

Anko chuckled. "I mean, you don't have to look so nervous. It's just me."

Just her?

Rin didn't know how to explain that that was exactly why she felt this way.

She stayed quiet.

They reached the shoe lockers, and Rin rushed to put on her shoes, eager to just get out of there.

But when she turned, she saw Anko waiting again.

Leaning against the lockers this time, arms crossed.

Rin faltered. "…Why are you still here?"

Anko raised a brow. "Didn't I already say? I figured we'd leave together."

Rin looked away. "You don't have to do that."

Anko tilted her head. "I know."

The answer made Rin pause.

She slowly glanced back at Anko, but the other girl just smiled. "Let's go."

With no excuse left, Rin sighed and followed her outside.

They walked in silence for a while. The cool afternoon breeze brushed against them, the sky tinged with the soft orange of the setting sun.

Rin stared straight ahead, still unsure why this was happening.

Why Anko was here.

Why she was talking to her.

Why she was acting like this was normal.

Finally, Rin couldn't take it anymore. She kept her gaze forward but muttered, "Why are you doing this?"

Anko glanced at her. "Doing what?"

Rin tightened her grip on her bag strap. "Walking with me. Talking to me."

Anko was quiet for a moment. Then, she said, "Why not?"

Rin frowned. "Because…" Because no one does. Because you never did before. Because I don't understand you.

Anko suddenly stopped walking. Rin took a few steps before realizing and turned back.

Anko was looking at her with an expression Rin couldn't read.

"You really think it's that weird, huh?" Anko asked, tilting her head.

Rin swallowed. "It… just doesn't make sense."

Anko studied her for a moment, then exhaled. "You think too much."

Rin blinked. "What?"

Anko started walking again, brushing past her. "You're overthinking it."

Rin hurried to catch up. "That doesn't answer anything."

Anko just smiled. "Does it need to?"

Rin stared at her, trying to figure her out.

But the more she looked, the more she realized—

She couldn't.

Not yet.