“Huh,” he replied, eyes lingering on the sweater for another moment before darting back to the pond. He handed her the chunk of bread he’d torn off from the dwindling loaf, gave her an expectant look as he slid the loaf out of his lap and in between them and slumped on the bench. Seemed he was happy to pass the weighty task of duck feeding to her.
Another half-shrug. “Probably somewhere in the park,” he said, helpful as ever. “I caught it at the gate, but it roams,” and you’d know all about that. Amusement flared for a brief moment at the thought, lips peeling back in a toothy grin, and then it died, curiosity taking over on his sun-dappled face at the mention of another classmate.
He turned to look at the girl, frowning as she danced across the rocks, then he gave a snort, a shake of his head, and went to say something that would no doubt be gut-busting, but instead he found himself staring hard at a stick of an upperclassman. A sneer curled the corner of his mouth, and he leaned closer to Kozue, whispering to her with a hiss that wasn’t much of a whisper at all.
“Careful, Kondo-chan, he’s been a little clingy to me lately and if he sees you sitting beside me he might claw your eyes out in jealousy.”
He fixed the boy with a hard look, eyes gone flinty, issuing out a silent warning.
Then he laughed up at the tree when Misaki spoke for him, laugh throaty and tinged with showy mockery. Definitely a laugh he’d practiced.
“Rabbit’s hit the mark,” he told Kou, looking hopeless at him, “and here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”