Day one of the school trip — finally arrived — and we were on the Shinkansen. We’d been on for two hours since Tokyo Station; we were almost there.
“Ryouya-kun, Riona, look outside — very Kyoto.”
“Yeah, that’s a five-story pagoda.”
“Nee-chan, too excited.”
“You’re looking cool but I can tell you’re pleased, Riona.”
“Yeah, corners of your mouth are up.”
Riona blushed slightly. Early on her expressions had been hard to read; by now I could parse them fluently. Result of intensive Reona-and-Riona exposure.
“After we get off the train, what’s first?”
“Group photo.”
“At the big stairs at Kyoto Station Building.”
“Oh — the ones with the sky overhead.”
“Clear weather today, should make for nice photos.”
We pulled into Kyoto Station. The chaperone led us through.
“Lots of foreign tourists.”
“Kyoto is popular with foreign visitors.”
“Our grandma loves Kyoto — she might know more about it than us.”
“Right, your grandmother is British.”
“We inherited our eye color from her.”
So she had blue eyes too. The probability of half- or quarter-foreign people inheriting blue eyes is reportedly low — Reona and Riona had pulled the low-probability variant.
I caught myself thinking if I had foreign blood I might be popular with girls too, but I sensed that saying it out loud would summon something awful, so I held it in.
“If foreign tourists try to talk to me in English I’m going to need help — my English isn’t reliable conversation-level.”
“I’ve got that handled.”
“Yeah, Riona is native-tier.”
“Reassuring.”
We arrived at the big stairs. Beautiful clear blue sky overhead — that would photograph well.
The group photo started, and they sandwiched me from both sides immediately, drawing parent-killer-staring-at-the-killer level looks from the boys.
I was used to it. Damage: zero.
“You’re not reacting at all, and we’re pressed right up against you.”
“Old Ryouya would’ve panicked.”
“You guys have desensitized me through prolonged training.”
The two of them, walking next to me, looked dissatisfied.
“So Ryouya-kun’s developed a tolerance — needs harder stimulus to react.”
“Need to introduce variety so we don’t get stale.”
“Could you not phrase it in ways that make me sound like a pervert?”
If anyone overheard, they’d think I was a deeply unwell person. Then again, I am a loner, so other people’s opinions of me are effectively irrelevant.
Following the chaperone we made our way to the Hachijo East exit of Kyoto Station and boarded our chartered bus. The bus had two-seat rows except for the back, which meant three of us sitting together was difficult.
I tried to sit in an open seat, but Reona and Riona grabbed my arms.
“Ryouya-kun is with us — back of the bus.”
“Anywhere else is not allowed.”
“But the back is the prime real estate — lots of competition, right?”
The back row of a school-trip bus is normally fought over by popular kids — there’s no way it was free.
“Oh, we already negotiated with everyone. We’re good.”
“Just the three of us — me, Nee-chan, and Ryouya.”
I didn’t know what arrangements they’d struck, but they had clearly handled it.
“You can’t be left unsupervised, Ryouya-kun.”
“Dangerous when you’re outside our sight.”
“Stop describing me like an eye-needs-on toddler.”
Also: sitting near them is the genuinely dangerous option.
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Busy IRL — I’ll batch-reply to support comments later.