InsaneJournal

WHO: Kozue and Kou
WHAT: Stalking following up on something
WHERE: School Grounds
WHEN: After School, pre-S!Misaki
WHY: by the command of Kiriko it shall be done


Kozue had been pondering all day in class. 'Pondering', for her, involved a lot of slumping on her desk top and a lot of rolling pencils up and down, and sometimes a bit of kicking the bottom of her front-neighbor's desk. She'd do it until he turned around, at least. At which point she'd play innocent, of course. And he always believed it.

Part of her had been wondering just why Kiriko was so gung-ho about Oubai-senpai recently; at least, about Oubai when it came to Kondo and Oubai. Had he talked to her, maybe? Asked for a little bit of help? Was he interested? Because that would have made her own decision on the problem easier, for sure. But… at the same time, the advice she'd given Maeko kept coming back to her. You don't date a guy because you like him, you date him to find out if you like him or not. So, in the interest of not being a hypocrite, there it was. Decided.

After classes were over, she grabbed her bag and headed out. It was an Ikebana day, but—well, with the wink she flashed to Kiriko before leaving the classroom, she was pretty sure that she'd get excused. Kiriko was clever enough to guess.

She would have waited on the second year hallway, but halfway there she changed her mind and made a bee-line for the shoe lockers. Because Keiichi was in 2-B too, and boythatmightbekindofawkward. If he saw her talking to Kou, yeah. She stopped at a bulletin board a few feet away from the exit, and made a show of studying a flier. Theater program? School play? Hm. That was… well, she could fake great interest. And she was good at faking interest while keeping an eye out. She kept an eye out for Kou—trying to make sure she wasn't going to approach Renju, either, because apparently girls had done that before—and pondered exactly what she was going to say when she saw him. Since they had talked once, and then hadn't really had a conversation in months, aside from the general messes surrounding Paradise.

Hey, how's your restaurant? Hey, so, my grandmother might try to sell me to you? Been to the blue glowy room of butterflies recently? How's your Head God doing?

Ugh. Usually, this was easier.