"Max! Are you alright? What did he say? Will you be alright?"
I smile at Emmie's worry, and that smile actually makes her calm down slightly from her panic. Her hands stop tightening around my arms, and she exhales. When she looks at me again, her eyes are not as nervous as before, and her anxiety has settled down a little.
"Is everything alright?"
My smile grows wider, then I restrain it and pull her to walk with me.
"It is alright. I was not in the wrong, so there will be no problem."
Emmie looks at me, her skepticism not needing any mind-reading to be perceived, as it is written all over her face.
"You sure?"
I let out an amused laugh and confirm with a nod.
"Sure. I'm sure. The principal will take care of everything."
Emmie finally believes me, and lets out a big exhale, as she pats her chest.
"Huff…"
The two balls of elastic softness ripple in their sheath, but with no one to be reflexively attracted to the sight. It has been almost an hour since the end of the classes, and most have already gone for their next activities of the day, which include either going home, or attending club activities.
And speaking of the latter, I look at Emmie.
"Did you ask for a leave at the swimming club?"
The redhead nods.
"Hm. But now that you assure me that everything is alright, I can go and catch up to the rest of the training. I still want to be selected to join the competing team."
"Then go. And until you join the team, I will be waiting for what you will show me during the midterm festival."
Saying that, I push Emmie to get her to hurry away. Her sacrifice, though difficult to quantify, makes my heart ripple with softness, but since it can be minimized, it must be.
"Will you be alright? His friends won't be waiting somewhere outside to make things difficult for you, will they?"
Emmie's worry makes me pause, then I shake my head after thinking for a moment.
"Just go. Whether they are stupid enough to attempt something like that, I don't know, but I can defend myself. Remember that my wound is almost healed."
Indeed, Emmie remembers, and she grins, because I did use that wounded leg for my emasculating strike.
"Alright, I will go."
Saying that, Emmie steps closer, and presses her lips against mine. She takes two steps back, and waves at me.
"Take care of yourself."
"Hm. See you later."
I wave back with a smile, and watch her go while turning two to three times before disappearing around the corner.
My smile grows as I feel the lingering sensation on my lips, then I take the path I have taken yesterday, only to turn into another corner and go to another part of the school. I used to be considering the reading club or the cinematography club before, and for that, I had looked into the clubs available. So I know a bit about where to find their activity areas.
Actually, I was wavering, considering between those more "refined" choices, and the acting and the modeling clubs. Because I am beautiful, and because my legs are attractive, I thought of showing those off and using them to my advantage. But now, well, I'm still a little interested, but I don't think I will ever have the peace of mind necessary for those.
I stop letting my thoughts wander with a shake of the head. This time, I have decided to audit the handball club, and also try what I did yesterday. I will be more careful this time, and also keep my calm.
I seem to have played this before. Hm, that is the echoes that have faded into the background and melted into the framework of my being speaking. That is why the memories are vague to the point of only causing an impression. I let the ripple live out its life while focusing on the training match below.
While recalling the faint sensation of the ball grasped in my hand as my feet run over the court, I follow the thoughts flying around. This time, I am in a corner where I seem relaxed, without any obvious sign of unusual behavior.
I spend the whole afternoon watching, which is much more than the time I spent yesterday. After so long, the echo of that experience in my head feels clearer, and I almost feel like… like… I am the one running over the polished floor, feeling the wind over my thighs, the chill of the air over my arms, sweat over my brows, threatening to drip into my eyes as I throw the ball.
I blink, and suddenly detach myself from the perspective of the female player I have been focused on for too long. I calm my heaving chest, and let my dizzy mind settle down.
I take a moment to recollect myself, and smile bitterly. Thoughts are brainwaves, so I have never thought deeply about it when I considered everything I read as brainwaves. But thoughts and sensations are different. They can even be said to be two different systems, or the same as how different applications and background applications are on phones or computers. To be crude, the former are more conscious, and more intense, even if only because they swim closer to the surface. And the latter are more unconscious, reactions to interpret the perception of the different senses. But until now, I have never questioned if it is normal to feel both. For one, I have already understood that it is abnormal for an insulator to read minds. And I have never tried to dissect and understand what the accident has brought me apart from the death of my parents. But now, I have to do those, whether to think, or understand.
My bitter smile grows, a bitter sign of additional maturity, as I see how good it is to only dream of a fantastic life, not to really live it. I miss the times of innocence when my life was still simple.