Mako walked the exact same distance yesterday. She stayed awake just as long.
Yet she possesses an overflowing reservoir of stamina. It defies standard biological limits. She probably feeds on the ambient noise of the classroom to sustain herself.
He closes his eyes. He just wants to lay his head down on the cool wood of his desk and drift away.
But he knows the immediate consequence. If his forehead touches the desk, Mako will immediately turn around. She will extend her index finger, poke him sharply in the ribs and demand his attention. It is a flawless, inescapable pattern.
Suddenly, the door at the front of the classroom slides open.
Wood scrapes loudly against the metal track. It is a slow, agonizing sound.
The lively chatter across the room dims. Students turn their heads toward the front. They expect the bouncy, cheerful woman from yesterday to burst through the gap with a loud greeting.
That does not happen.
Hoshinomiya Chie shuffles into the room. She drags her feet across the floor. Her jacket hangs crookedly off one shoulder. Her light brown hair looks slightly frizzy, entirely lacking the perfect, playful waves from yesterday's homeroom. She does not smile and she does not wave.
She walks directly to the teacher's podium and pulls the wooden chair out with a harsh scrape. She collapses into the seat. Her upper body slumps forward until her forehead hits the cold surface of the podium with a dull thud.
She stays there. She does not move a single muscle.
Renjiro watches her from the back row and opens his eyes fully.
She acts completely different. A full one hundred and eighty-degree turn from her previous personality.
He analyzes the visual data. The messy hair. The slow, dragging movements. The sudden aversion to loud noises.
She probably has a headache. Or maybe a hangov--."
"Good morning, lovely students of Class 1-B," Hoshinomiya mumbles.
She speaks directly into the wood of the podium. She does not raise her head. Her voice sounds rough, carrying a dry, gravelly edge.
As she exhales, the air conditioning unit above the chalkboard catches her breath. The cold air pushes the exhalation forward and rolls it directly over the front row of desks.
A girl sits in the very front seat. She suddenly flinches and her nose wrinkles. She leans back slightly in her chair and puts physical distance between her face and the podium.
Renjiro watches the physical reaction from the back of the room.
"Good morning! It was amazing, Chie-sensei!" Shibata answers loudly, his voice echoing in the quiet room.
Hoshinomiya groans. She weakly lifts one hand from the desk and waves it blindly in the air.
"Quiet down," she whispers, her tone thick with suffering. "Don't yell so early in the morning, Shibata-kun. And call me Hoshinomiya-sensei. Or just Sensei. You kids are too energetic... my poor head can't take it. My youth is already slipping away, don't make it drain faster."
Her voice carries a trace of anger, but it lacks any real authority. She sounds exactly like a friend complaining about a bad morning after a long night out. She projects zero aura of a strict educator scolding a student.
The class realizes she is not actually mad. A few students giggle. The tension breaks instantly.
The friendly, unified chatter slowly resumes, filling the room with a low, comfortable hum.
Renjiro looks to his right again.
Mako completely ignores the teacher's strange behavior. She turns her body toward the front and smiles. She sits entirely too close to his desk space.
I hate this seat, Renjiro thinks. His eyes shift toward the window. I really do not want to sit next to her. Every time I attempt to take a nap, she interrupts. The rib poking is a severe threat to my daily peace. It is annoying.