After break, as I was walking into the classroom, my classmates were discussing the television program yesterday.
"Is the show live?"
"Yeah, seems like he's back in Japan already."
"An interview?"
"They're talking about things that I don't understand. It's not like I listen to classical music anyway."
"Do they look alike?"
"Not one bit. Princess probably takes after her mother?"
Just from those bits of conversation, I immediately knew what they were talking about. I took a glance at Weiss's empty seat.
"The host asked about Princess as well."
"The father and daughter are not on good terms with each other, right?"
I've been thinking this whole time—you guys should know that Weiss is about to get here soon, and yet you people are still loudly gossiping about things related to her?
"Haruto, your Mom's classmates with Senju Tobirama, right?"
"How did you know, Sun?"
"Rossweisse-sensei said so, she also said back when Senju Tobirama was still teaching her, your mother was always flirting with him."
Rossweisse-sensei said that? Dammit that woman! Please do not exaggerate those stories and spread them out.
"What, so you really do know Princess beforehand."
"But from what I saw, Senju Tobirama kept trying to divert the topic whenever the host asked about his daughter. Do you know the reason for that?"
"Hey, look…" I removed the bass from my shoulders, and leaned it against my desk. Then I mustered my determination and said, "Stop asking about things related to her, alright?" Everyone was looking at me with a surprised gaze. I pretended to organize my textbooks, and continued. "Just leave her alone, okay? She's just like an injured wild kitten—if you guys get close to her, she may actually scratch you guys; but if you guys leave her alone, she won't be bothering you. That girl had her fair share of problems during the world tour in America and stuff, so…"
Just as I was saying all that, I noticed that the people around me had directed their gaze in a strange direction. I could feel a prickling sensation on my shoulder blades. I turned around, and saw Weiss standing at the door of the classroom. Perhaps she had inherited that from her Norwegian mother? There was a slight blush appearing beneath her fair skin. Her ice-blue eyes were staring at me—it seems like those were not stares of anger, but rather, she was shocked.
"… Ah, look, I don't…" I wasn't sure myself if I was trying to cook up some excuse then.
"You sure know how to spread those words around," she murmured, and made her way to her seat. Those around me had already fled in all directions.
"It's not what you're thinking."
"Please don't talk to me."
The voice of Weiss was just like a pair of scissors, snipping away the distance between us. I could only remain quiet. Those who were around me not too long ago were sending me flickering looks of apprehension.
Yang rushed into the classroom only some time after the bell had rung. As she walked past me and Weiss, she noticed the dangerous atmosphere as well.
"What's up?" She peeked at me, and then at Weiss. "Are you two quarreling again?"
"I have never quarreled with him before, so please don't use the term 'again'," Weiss said that as she looked away.
Yang was about to say something, but I tugged her sleeve and pleaded her not to say anything. Forget about talking, Weiss didn't even look in my direction once. She immediately ran out of the classroom right at the start of lunch break.
"She's angry…"
"Princess's angry…"
All the reproaching murmurs as well as the stares of my classmates had gathered on me. It was really my fault this time. I had no choice but to stand up and leave the classroom.
I walked to the courtyard, and reached the training room of the old music building. There was no padlock hanging on the door, and the door was left ajar as well. I quietly sneaked a peek into the room, and saw no one inside.
What's happening here? I walked into the room, and saw a guitar connected to the amplifier, with the pick left randomly on the desk. Seemed like someone had run out of the room in a hurry after entering into here. Which means, it should be fine for me to wait here for her, right?
I then realized I had not thought about how I should apologize to her. What's the reason for Weiss to be that angry towards me? Just as I was sitting on the cushion on the desk and thinking of how I should apologize to her, I accidentally swept the pick onto the floor with a flick of my hands. That's probably the pick that Weiss uses. It was only until I picked it up that I realize—the shape of the pick was rather strange.
Typically speaking, picks are a thin piece of plastic shaped into a triangle or an onigiri. However, there's a plastic loop on both sides of the surface of the pic. I tried slipping my thumb and index finger through the plastic loop, and they slid in the position just like how one should hold a normal pick. However, I had never seen this sort of pick before. I had seen finger picks or thumb picks that are secured onto each of the fingers before, but a pick with two loops.
"Don't touch that!" A voice came from the direction of the door, which caused me to nearly drop the pick again. Weiss pushed the door open with her shoulders. I placed the pick back into its original position, and got off the desk.
"Hey, look… I'm sorry." I looked downwards, and noticed she was holding a small white plastic bag in her left hand… is that medicine? "Are you feeling unwell somewhere?"
Weiss was surprised by my question, and said, "It's nothing". She then stuffed the medicine bag and the pick beneath the cushion. So she just got back from the infirmary?
"What do you want?" Weiss gave a sigh as she said that, which was quite unlike how she used to yell at me to scram. It's actually much more scarier for her to be behaving this way.
I was blunt with her, "I'm here to apologize to you." Just as I was thinking on what I should be saying next, Weiss spoke, "Why? What are you apologizing for? Just tell everyone things about me as you please. I don't care the least bit."
"Look, I'll explain everything, so just listen to me," I said that while suppressing my anger. "Yesterday, my mother, she came home in a drunken state, and told me gossips that she heard from the other critics. She said that some critics in America had written some really nasty things about you. However, she never went into details, so—"
"Then there is no reason for you to apologize to me!"
I could feel my face burning in an instant. "Stop picking on my words."
"What, are you here to throw your anger at me?"
"That's not it, alright?" I swallowed my words, and tried my best to keep my emotions as calm as possible. "Okay, I get it. I'm here to apologize on behalf of all the critics in the world who only write rubbish."
My habit of talking nonsense had kicked in yet again. Weiss blinked her eyes in shock, which was then followed by an expression of surprise.
"But you're not a critic, right? Though I heard that your mother is."
"I'm a critic too."
Weiss tilted her head. Her gaze was filled with confusion. "It's true. I've helped my mother write articles under her name about four to five times already, and those articles were actually published in music magazines. That's why, I should be qualified to apologize to you, right?"
Weiss bit on her lips. Not long after, she looked at the floor and shook her head.
"I don't get what you're trying to say. What are you talking about?" She suddenly said that with a slightly trembling voice. "Why? Why are you apologizing to me? I've done so many nasty things to you."
"So you actually realize that?"
"Idiot."
Weiss lifted her head. Her eyes were filled with the dull colors of the gloomy skies—it was the same as that day when I met her for the very first time. It was a damp feeling, as though a downpour was approaching.
"I don't care about those silly things. No matter how they write about me, or what they write about me, it doesn't matter. That's not it at all. I wasn't that… wasn't that…"
I could faintly hear Weiss's choppy voice from afar, and I gradually found it difficult to breathe. I was thinking—just where exactly is she? This inconceivable girl with a dull violet aura surrounding her should be right in front of me—but in reality, how far away is she from me? Why… can't my voice and hands reach her?
"Why do you care about me? It's the same as back then. Why did you help me? Please, don't care about me anymore. I'm about to disappear soon anyway." Weiss leaned against her guitar and sat on the desk, with her face buried in her arms that were hugging her knees to her chest.
There was a gloomy downpour, but the rain fell only on her body. I walked out of the classroom, but I could still hear the faint sounds of the continuing downpour. However, the skies of September were irresponsibly bright, with only a cloud or two hanging above the outlines of the buildings.
I thought to myself, I must be forgetting something; I must be missing something important about Weiss. However, I had no idea what that was. Till then, I thought I was beginning to understand something, but those feelings were totally swallowed up by the imaginary clouds of rain at her side. I dragged my body which felt like it was drenched, and walked back towards the classroom.