Heavy plastic wheels scrape violently against the uneven asphalt of the sidewalk.
A sharp, vibrating friction travels straight up the metal handle of the rolling suitcase, settling deep into Renjiro's shoulder joint. He drags the bulky luggage behind him with minimal effort, letting his arm hang completely straight to conserve energy. A large duffel bag slumps awkwardly over his other shoulder, pressing a dull weight against his collarbone.
Morning sunlight hits his face. The air feels crisp and completely indifferent to his current suffering.
His childhood friend, Amikura Mako walks right beside him. Her own suitcase rolls smoothly across the pavement and matches the quick, energetic rhythm of her shoes. She carries her bags effortlessly, her bright blue eyes scanning the quiet streets with burning anticipation.
She is talking. She is always talking.
"Renji, after school, we should tour the whole place," Mako suggests, her voice ringing loud and clear through the empty morning air. "We need to find the shopping mall first. Then we have to locate the movie theater and the cafes. Oh, and the athletic fields! I need to see where the track team practices. We can map out the best routes from the dorms to the main building so we don't get lost on the second day."
Her words blur into a continuous, exhausting drone.
Renjiro keeps his eyes focused on the cracked pavement directly in front of his shoes.
Touring a massive campus requires walking. Walking requires lifting his legs thousands of times. The mere concept of exploring a school just to look at buildings drains his imaginary stamina gauge down to zero.
"I am not going," Renjiro replies, keeping his voice entirely flat.
Mako skips over a small puddle left over from last night's rain. She turns her head to look at him, her ponytail swaying sharply. "Why not?"
Renjiro stops walking.
His shoes squeak softly against the concrete. The heavy rolling suitcase bumps against the back of his ankle, coming to a dead halt. He drops the strap of his duffel bag and let it slide down his arm until it hits the ground with a soft thud.
Taking a long, deep breath, he lets the cool morning air fill his lungs. He exhales slowly, watching a faint puff of white condensation form in the air before vanishing.
He turns his head and looks directly into her bright blue eyes.
"Mako, you're so clingy."
Mako's jaw drops.
"W-What?!" Mako yells, her voice cracking in pure surprise. She stumbles back half a step, clutching the handle of her suitcase with both hands. Her cheeks flush a deep, angry shade of pink.
"Please leave me alone," Renjiro continues, completely ignoring her shocked expression. "We're in high school now. I don't want you to disturb my peaceful life."
A thick, heavy silence falls over the sidewalk.
Mako stands frozen in place. Her mouth hangs slightly open, but no sound comes out. Her wide eyes stare at him, processing the blunt statement. The energetic bounce completely leaves her posture, replaced by a rigid, stunned stillness.
Renjiro does not wait for an answer. He hopes his clear, direct plea will finally register in her brain.
Turning his back on her, he grabs the strap of his duffel bag and hoists it back onto his shoulder. He grips the handle of his suitcase and resumes his slow, dragging walk down the sidewalk toward the bus stop.
The path of least resistance is physical distance. If he establishes boundaries now, he might actually secure his three-year nap in the government-funded dormitories.
Five seconds pass.
Ten seconds.
Fifteen seconds.
Then twenty.
Renjiro hears footsteps behind him.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.