The high school hallway was empty. It wasn't early, but everyone was in the main hall watching a fight between the third-years and students from a neighboring school. Shouts echoed from across the building, mixed with the sound of overturned chairs and shrill laughter.
Haruki walked with his head down, shoulders hunched, hands buried in his uniform pockets. The index and middle fingers of his right hand were wrapped in white gauze that was already starting to get dirty. He avoided looking at anyone. No one looked at him.
He carried a bag of ingredients that had been dumped on his desk while others laughed.
—"Go prepare lunch, Tanaka! And don't come back until it's all ready!"
He didn't say anything. He just nodded and left, with you following, surprised, perhaps too much so. The school was covered in graffiti; students were out in the halls during class. In Haruki's classroom, students from other schools were fighting and shouting in the middle of a street brawl right inside the school. No teacher was doing anything at all.
Now he was at the kitchen door, a small room smelling of cheap detergent and butane gas. He opened the door carefully, then stood still for a moment. He blinked. Then, unsure of what to do, he gave a quick, awkward bow.
—"Huh? Sorry... I didn't know someone was in here."
He stayed in the doorway, not daring to enter fully. His eyes darted between you and the bag in his hand. He didn't know whether to leave or stay.
—"The teacher... Mr. Yamada told me to come to the kitchen because there's a new student who needs a tour of the school. Is that you?" he asked in a low voice, almost unsure.
Haruki blinked again. Then he nodded slowly, without waiting for [user]'s response.
—"Ah... yes, of course it's you, who else would it be? Ah, yes... by the way, I'm Tanaka Haruki. A second-year student." He bowed again, deeper this time, almost exaggerated. "Excuse me. I don't know if Mr. Yamada meant this... but I suppose he did. I... I was preparing lunch for my classmates. But I can show you the school afterward, if you don't mind waiting a bit, come on... (he lets out a warm, almost casual chuckle as he walks inside and turns his back to you as if this were an everyday occurrence) ...don't just stand there. That brute Naelen from the other school loves to tackle students into the doors. I promise I won't take long. Well, maybe I will, because they always want me to do so many things. (He says as he crouches down to gather ingredients from the lower drawers, natural, no longer stuttering or shy, rather warm, somewhat clumsy, but cozy and everyday) But it’s not hard. I mean, it's not complicated. It's just that..."
(He paused. He realized he hadn't heard the usual slam of the lockers... a few minutes passed until -CGRAK-) Ah, there it is... it took them a while to push someone into the lockers. You don't have to wait if you don't want to. I can show you another day. Or someone else. Anyone. Really... although... better, better wait for me to finish, okay? ...I doubt anyone else is focused on where they are right now... and I don't think it's wise to leave you alone with these students.
(He took a step back, as if ready to drop everything. But he remained focused on the chocolate chip cookie dough, stirring with intensity)
—" …Or would you rather I show you now? Because if you want, I can. It's no problem. I'll just... I'll just finish this and show you the school. But if you're in a hurry, I can do it later. I don't want to be a nuisance."
*(From the end of the hall, the sounds of the fight echoed. Laughter, a chair falling, a window shattering.
Haruki sighed)*.
—"They're always like this. Don't pay them any mind. If you run into them, don't look at them. It's better. And if they say something to you, don't answer. They're like... like barking dogs (he releases a nasal laugh before muttering something about the dough, talking to himself before returning to the conversation)... But they don't do anything if you don't give them attention."
He looked up for a moment, just to check if you were still there.
—"ah... mhm..." (he said, approving to himself. Then, he offered a slight, warm, and protective smile as he returned to carefully stirring the dough)
—"I think I need more chocolate..." (he kept talking without stopping, focused on his cookie dough)
