Chapter 4: So you are Witch
Csepel didn't offer to help Ayano out of kindness.
He did it because it felt like the polite thing to do.
That, and he had no clue how else to leave the awkward situation they were in. Better to walk with a stack of boxes than sit there and let half the school keep staring.
Now here he was—arms full of slightly crushed folders, trailing beside a second-year girl who looked like she was incapable of blinking.
Ayano walked calmly at his side, her own stack perfectly balanced. Not a single paper slipped. Not a single step out of rhythm.
It was kind of annoying, honestly.
"You're pretty quiet," Ayano said suddenly, her voice even and flat as ever.
Csepel looked at her from the corner of his eye. "I thought you preferred quiet people."
"I don't mind talkative ones either," she replied, not looking at him. "As long as they don't ask for my number."
Csepel raised an eyebrow. "That happens often?"
Ayano nodded. "Very."
There was no pride in her voice. No smugness. It was like she was reciting a fact she'd memorized from a textbook.
"You're surprisingly popular," he said.
"Is it surprising?" she asked.
"A little," he admitted.
Ayano glanced at him. Her face didn't change—but there was a glint in her eyes. "Even though I'm this boring?"
He blinked. "You said it. Not me."
"And yet," she continued, "many boys like me. Even some girls."
"Wow."
She turned her head slightly. "Are you impressed?"
"I'm more confused than anything," Csepel said with a small laugh. "I mean… you kind of talk like a robot."
"That's rude," Ayano replied, still completely expressionless.
Csepel tried not to chuckle, but it slipped out anyway. "Sorry, sorry."
Ayano didn't respond for a moment. Then she said, "Even though I'm like this, people still like me. Funny, isn't it?"
Csepel looked away. "I guess some people are into weird stuff."
There was a pause.
Then Ayano said, calmly, "I know what you're thinking."
Csepel raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You're thinking, 'Why would anyone like a person like this?'"
He froze in his tracks.
"...Huh?"
Ayano looked over at him, unblinking. "Am I wrong?"
Csepel stared at her, mouth slightly open.
"That's… freaky," he muttered.
Ayano tilted her head. "Not really. You have a very readable face."
"Do I?"
"Yes. You're like a goldfish. Emotions all over the place."
Csepel sighed. "That's not flattering."
Ayano shrugged. "It wasn't meant to be."
He looked at her again, curious despite himself. "You sure you're not a witch or something?"
That, oddly enough, made her lips twitch. Just a little.
A rare smile.
She didn't say anything.
Instead, she raised one foot—and kicked him in the shin.
"Ow—! What the hell was that for?!"
Csepel stumbled, losing his balance, and one of the boxes he was holding slipped from his grip, landing with a soft thud on the floor. A few sheets of paper fluttered out like startled birds.
"You were being rude," Ayano said simply.
"You kicked me!"
"You called me a witch."
"I meant it in a cool way!"
Ayano leaned down and helped gather the scattered papers.
"You're dramatic," she said, not even looking at him.
"You literally assaulted me."
"Lightly."
Csepel groaned. "This is abuse."
"File a report," she said calmly, handing him the last of the papers.
He stared at her.
She stared back, blandly.
Then he sighed. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry."
Ayano nodded once, accepting the apology like a queen accepting a tribute. "You're forgiven."
They continued down the hallway in silence for a while, the boxes once again balanced in their arms.
"…You're strange," Csepel muttered.
"So are you," Ayano replied.
That was the end of that.
---
By the time they reached the student council room, Csepel's arms were sore and his shoulders stiff. He dropped the boxes onto the nearest table with a sigh of relief.
Ayano placed hers down more neatly, brushing a single strand of hair behind her ear.
"Thanks for the help," she said in her usual dry tone. "You're free to go now, mysterious transfer boy."
"I've been here for twelve years," he muttered. "I'm not a transfer."
"Still mysterious," Ayano replied.
Csepel looked around the room. It was cleaner than any classroom he'd ever seen. Tidy shelves lined the walls, and a faint scent of disinfectant lingered in the air.
He turned back to her. "Is this what you do during lunch? Carry boxes and ambush innocent students?"
"Sometimes," she replied.
"That's terrifying."
Ayano blinked. "You helped, didn't you?"
"Out of guilt."
"Still helped."
He sighed again. "I'm going back."
"Good," she said. Then, before he could reach the door—
"Oh. One more thing."
Csepel turned around. "What?"
Ayano was looking at him, still expressionless—but something was different this time.
Something subtle.
Maybe a trace of amusement.
"You have interesting thoughts," she said. "Don't let them eat you."
He blinked.
"…What does that even mean?"
Ayano turned away, already pulling open one of the file drawers.
Csepel shook his head.
"Weird girl," he muttered.
But he was smiling just a little.
---
To be continued...
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