Chapter 2

Yoko

My eyes fluttered open as the alarm blared. Stretching and groaning softly, I leaned back against the headboard, allowing the last traces of sleep to leave me. My gaze drifted over to Ham, already sitting upright and staring at me with his usual, endearing patience.

A silly smile broke across my face. I swung my legs out of bed and stood up, still feeling the weight of last night's late reading session. After a quick change and wash, I headed downstairs to start my morning routine.

I filled Ham's bowl with fresh water and kibbles, adding a few dried chicken treats on top. "Here you go, some nice treats for you," I winked, watching as he eagerly chomped down on the kibbles.

With Ham taken care of, I made myself a comforting cup of warm coffee. Soon after, I grabbed my bag and headed to the car. As I reversed onto the main road, I glanced back at Ham, who was watching me from the door. "I'll take you for a walk after school, alright?"

The drive to school felt longer than usual, the lingering tiredness pressing down on me. Once parked, I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked into the bustling hallways. The familiar noise of students' chatter filled the air. I made my way to my locker, preparing for my first lesson of the day—English Literature.

A small sigh escaped my lips at the thought. I loved English Lit, but after yesterday's encounter with Ms Peraya, a tight knot of tension formed in my stomach. Her commanding presence and piercing gaze had an undeniable effect. How could someone be so effortlessly intimidating? Just one look from her was enough to silence a room.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice Marissa approaching until she spoke.

"Fancy a penny for your thoughts, pretty friend?" she teased, leaning casually against the lockers.

I shook my head and managed a tired smile. "Nothing much, Marissa. Just tired." I stifled a yawn, covering my mouth. "Sorry," I added with a sheepish grin.

"Girl, what did you do last night?" she asked, brow furrowed but voice light-hearted, her emphasis on what she just said reflects a hint of sarcasm.

"Nothing exciting. Just read a book and stayed up later than I should have." I double-checked my locker, ensuring I had everything I needed for class, then closed it with a soft clang.

"Well, I've got to run to class. Catch you later," I said, offering her a weak smile.

Marissa waved, flashing a bright grin before hurrying off down the hallway.

As I stepped through the door, I froze for a moment, taking in the sight of Ms Peraya already seated at her desk. Her eyes were locked on the laptop screen, sharp and focused, framed by a cold, impassive expression that seemed to carve the air around her. Slender fingers moved swiftly over the keyboard, each tap deliberate and precise.

Today's outfit was much like yesterday's: professional and minimalist. She wore a crisp white shirt, the fabric stark against her skin, flowing effortlessly into her tailored trousers. Gone were the heels from before; instead, her movements seemed quieter, more fluid. Her hair was styled in a half-bun, a few loose strands escaping and cascading over one shoulder, adding a soft contrast to her otherwise commanding presence.

The same fragrance lingered around her—a rich, woody scent that was both exclusive and imposing, like an unspoken boundary. It filled the room with an aura of authority, subtly reminding everyone of the distance she maintained.

I hurried to my seat, noticing that Ms Peraya offered no greeting or acknowledgment. As the clock ticked closer to the start of class, the room filled gradually with students, some breathless from their dash to avoid being marked late.

Ms Peraya's cold gaze swept over the room as the last student entered. She raised a stack of essays in her hand, the flimsy pages looking fragile under her firm grip.

"Good morning, everyone. I'm returning your essays from yesterday," she announced, her tone detached, almost clinical. "I wouldn't say I'm particularly satisfied with your work. There is... considerable room for improvement."

One by one, she handed back the papers, her expression unreadable. When I received mine, I could feel my heart race slightly as I flipped through the pages. Red ink sprawled across my words like silent accusations, each correction a small sting.

I turned to the last page and found her comment, stark and glaring in the same crimson ink:"Mediocre."

My breath caught in my throat. Mediocre. The word echoed in my mind, heavier than I expected. Disbelief flooded me, followed quickly by a wave of disappointment.

"What... the hell?" I muttered under my breath, the frustration tightening my chest.

Ink, sitting beside me, heard my soft exclamation and turned her head. "What happened?" she whispered.

I wordlessly showed her the back of my paper, my face a mixture of disbelief and defeat. The bright red word seemed to burn into my vision.

"Ooh, that's gotta hurt," Ink commented, almost too casually, with a slight shrug. "It's fine, you'll get over it."

Her nonchalance did little to ease the knot forming in my stomach. I slumped back in my chair, feeling the weight of the word settle deeper.

Surely, it wasn't that bad... was it?

"Today, we'll be discussing common unseen poems that often appear in examinations," Ms Peraya announced, her voice clear and unwavering. The authority in her tone seemed to command attention, and the entire class hung on her words.

But not me. I struggled to stay focused, fighting off the drowsiness that clung to me. The morning coffee had proven useless, my eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment. I blinked hard, forcing myself to keep my gaze fixed on her.

Yet, there was something about her voice—something I couldn't quite name. It wasn't joyful or animated, but there was a depth to it, a quiet intensity. When she read the lines of poetry, her words seemed to carry a weight, an unspoken emotion that filled the room. Her voice was soothing, almost lulling, like a bedtime story whispered to a restless child.

I found myself slipping into a dreamlike state, the cadence of her speech washing over me.

If I'm not careful, I thought, I might drift off right here.

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could.."

Ms Peraya's soothing voice drifted into a distant hum as my eyelids surrendered to their weight. The classroom sounds faded into a soft void, the world slipping away into silence.

Suddenly, a sharp nudge from Ink jolted me awake. My eyes snapped open, as startled as a window flung wide in a storm. The room came rushing back into focus—rows of wide-eyed classmates staring at me. And there she was, Ms Peraya, her piercing gaze fixed directly on me.

Confused, I glanced at Ink, who whispered, "Ms Peraya called you."

My heart sank as my eyes met the teacher's unyielding stare.

Dang it, I'm in trouble.

"Dozing off in class, are we, Ms Apasra?" Her voice was edged with irritation, eyebrows drawn tight, her dark eyes glinting with authority.

"I'm sorry, Ms—" I started, but she cut me off with a curt wave.

"Detention. After school today." Her voice carried through the room like a gavel striking down. The air thickened, and all around, heads bowed, eyes darting away to avoid her glare.

She swept her gaze over the class, voice cold and firm. "Let this serve as a warning: fall asleep in my class, and you'll make it up with an hour of detention."

A heavy sigh escaped me as the weight of her words settled. Detention. All I wanted was to go home—to escape to my safe haven with Ham. But now, thanks to her, I was trapped here, stuck in the very place I longed to leave.

Who else could I blame...?

After what felt like an eternity, the day finally ended. Each step I took down the hallway felt heavier than the last, dread pooling in my stomach as I approached Ms Peraya's classroom.

I paused at the door, exhaling a sigh that barely eased the tightness in my chest.

How am I supposed to endure another hour with her? I shouldn't have stayed up so late last night.

With reluctant hands, I pushed down the door handle and swung the door open slightly, slipping inside. Ms Peraya sat at her desk, eyes scanning papers, her expression as cold and composed as ever. She lifted her head, placing her pen down with deliberate precision as I entered.

"Ms Peraya," I greeted softly, my voice barely carrying.

"You can sit there," she replied, her tone clipped and detached, motioning to a seat. "Spend the next hour reflecting on your actions this morning. Write down why you were dozing off instead of paying attention."

I nodded without a word, the weight of her gaze settling like frost. Choosing a desk just one seat away from her, I pulled out my writing pad and stationery. The soft click of my pen echoed in the silence as I began to write.

The space between us felt vast and hollow, each minute stretching unbearably. What else could be expected when two strangers share a room too big for unspoken words?

The rhythmic ticking of the clock was the only sound, a constant reminder of how slowly time passed. Every now and then, I stole glances at Ms Peraya. Her sharp focus never wavered, her pen moving with a relentless precision that made the distance between us feel even colder.

She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge me beyond the bare minimum. I was invisible, a ghost in the room—air that barely stirred her presence.

When I finished my reflection, I lifted my eyes again, studying her in the quiet. Her face was calm, detached, absorbed in her work. Not once did she look at me, not once did she waver.

To her, I wasn't even there.

My eyes drifted, almost involuntarily, to her side profile. Her jawline was sharp and well-defined, a perfect contrast to the softness of her complexion. Her nose, neither too prominent nor delicate, held a natural elegance—higher than most, but not in the exaggerated way of Western features.

My gaze trailed down, lingering on her lips. The subtle sheen of light pink gloss made them appear soft, almost inviting, catching the faint light in a way that seemed... intentional.

Suddenly, as though she felt the weight of my eyes tracing every line of her face, she looked up. Our eyes met, and a jolt shot through me. My breath caught in my throat, and my eyes widened in panic at being caught.

For a split second, something flickered across her expression. It was fleeting, but there—a slight upward twitch at the corner of her mouth. Was it a smirk? A knowing smile? It felt like she was saying, I saw that.

I quickly coughed, feigning a need to clear my throat as I straightened up in my seat, desperate to regain composure. My heart hammered in my chest, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the room had suddenly become much smaller.

Ms Peraya set her red pen down, the sound echoing in the silent room. She stood, her movements fluid and deliberate, and began walking towards me. Each step sent a ripple of tension through the air.

I held my breath.

Why does her presence make me feel so... tense?

"How's your reflection coming along?" she asked, leaning in, her hand resting lightly on the back of my chair, the other casually tucked into the pocket of her fitted trousers. Her voice had softened, carrying a hint of something... mischievous. The usual sternness in her eyes had melted away, replaced by an intensity that made my breath catch.

"Yeah, I'm d-done." My voice wavered as I handed her the paper. Our fingers brushed—deliberately, it seemed. The brief contact sent a jolt through me, igniting a spark I tried desperately to suppress. I bit my lip, willing my racing heart to calm.

"Good work." Her tone was light, almost teasing—a stark contrast to the cold assessment she'd given me earlier. Mediocre. The word echoed in my mind, but her demeanour now felt anything but indifferent.

She set the paper aside, holding it behind her back as she looked down at me again, her gaze penetrating. "So, what were you writing yesterday?" she asked, her eyes glinting playfully.

Sunlight streaming through the window illuminated her face, casting a soft glow on her light brown eyes. In that moment, she seemed almost ethereal—a goddess, untouchable yet so close.

"Nothing much. Just poetry," I murmured, trying to sound nonchalant.

Her lips curled into a teasing smile. "Care to share? I love poetry."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," I shot back, my tone laced with feigned bravado. "It'd be... mediocre." I drew out the word, letting it hang between us.

A flicker of amusement danced in her eyes, and the corner of her mouth lifted. "You're upset."

"No... why would I be?" I glanced away, avoiding her gaze. How could she read me so easily? It was terrifying—thrilling, even. She saw right through me, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to hide or be completely exposed.

Then, her fingers—long, elegant—reached out, gently tilting my chin up. Our eyes locked, the space between us narrowing. My breath hitched. If I leaned in just a little... our lips would meet.

"I see it all too well," she murmured, her voice low, almost a whisper. "You love writing. For me to call your work mediocre... it felt like a knife to the heart, didn't it?"

Her words stripped me bare, leaving me vulnerable yet somehow comforted. The tension thickened, the air between us charged with something unspeakable. I couldn't look away. My eyes traced her features—her eyes, her lips—and back again, over and over.

The bell rang, a sharp intrusion shattering the moment. She released my chin and straightened, the authoritative mask slipping back into place.

"Time's up. You're off the hook now," she said, walking back to her desk with an almost casual grace.

I hurriedly packed my things, hands shaking slightly, trying not to betray the storm raging inside me. "Goodbye, Ms Peraya," I managed, pausing at the door for one last look.

"See you tomorrow, Yoko." My name on her lips sent a fresh wave of heat through me. My face flushed, the memory of our closeness still burning.

I turned and walked away, my steps quickening as I made my way down the corridor. The air felt cooler outside, but inside, I was still on fire.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles whitening as I tried to steady my breath. A deep sigh escaped, the weight of the past hour pressing down on me. The relief of being away from Ms Peraya was palpable, but the memory of our close, charged interaction lingered—unsettling and unexpected from someone usually so cold.

I pressed the accelerator, hurrying home with one thought in mind: a cold shower. Maybe that would wash away the tension still buzzing beneath my skin, the chaotic thoughts swirling in my head.

The icy water did its job, jolting me back to some semblance of calm. My heart had slowed, the noise in my mind fading to a murmur.

"Hey, Ham. Fancy a walk?" I called, my voice softer than usual. My golden retriever perked up at the magic word, his head tilting adorably to one side. A smile crept onto my face. Moments like this were pure, uncomplicated.

I clipped the leash onto his collar and we stepped outside. The late-afternoon sun hung high, but the breeze was cool, rustling the leaves and Ham's golden fur. Each step on the familiar path felt like a reset button, the rhythm of our walk grounding me.

This was exactly what I needed—simple, quiet, real. The breeze, the sound of Ham's paws on the pavement, the warmth of the sun on my skin. No confusing glances, no lingering touches. Just serenity.

Once we reached the park, I unhooked Ham's leash, watching as he bounded joyfully across the sprawling green expanse. I settled onto a nearby stone bench, my eyes drifting between him and the river glistening in front of me. The peaceful setting seemed perfect for unwinding, but my thoughts stubbornly wandered back to Ms Peraya.

Her presence still lingered—those glances, the brush of her fingers. How could something so simple feel so... intense? It was like trying to grasp mist, leaving me both curious and frustrated.

A sudden scream shattered my reverie. My head snapped up, heart racing, searching for Ham. Near a large tree, I spotted him, his tail wagging beside someone who was kneeling on the ground.

Grabbing my bag, I rushed over, praying Ham hadn't hurt anyone. "Hey, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

The girl looked up, her black eyes wide and soft like onyx. There was a small cut on her knee, a trickle of blood contrasting starkly against her pale skin.

"Shit, you're bleeding!" I blurted, unnecessarily stating the obvious. Panicking, I rummaged for a tissue and gently pressed it against her wound. "God, I'm really sorry."

She smiled up at me, unfazed. "It's fine," she assured me, her voice light and calm. "I think your dog just got a little too excited, and I wasn't paying attention."

I tightened Ham's leash, pulling him closer. "Sorry about that, really."

Her smile softened further. "It's okay, really. It's just a small cut."

I took a moment to really look at her—more intentionally this time. Her ash-grey hair framed her face perfectly, falling just above her shoulders. Her skin was fair, almost luminous, and her features... They were striking. Pretty in a way that caught you off guard.

"Can I get you anything?" I offered, feeling the need to make up for the mishap.

She shook her head. "I'll wash it off in the bathroom later. No big deal."

Then, her eyes met mine, lingering just a second too long. Her lips parted slightly as if she was about to say something else. "I'm Becky. What's your name?"

The directness of her question took me by surprise. I hadn't expected us to introduce ourselves, but I replied anyway. "Yoko."

"You live around here?" she asked, her tone casual yet interested.

"Yeah, just a few streets down."

Her smile widened. "That's nice. I just moved in. My place is across the street." She paused, then added, almost teasingly, "Want to drop by?"

Drop by? Do people usually invite strangers to their homes after being knocked over by their dog?

I let out an awkward chuckle, trying to keep things light. "Thanks, but I've got some homework I need to finish."

"That's a pity." Her eyes sparkled with something I couldn't quite place. "I thought we could chat a bit. You're kind of the first friend I've made since moving here."

First friend? Since when...?

"You should really clean that wound, though," I suggested, steering the conversation back to safer ground. "Leaving it like that isn't a good idea."

She waved it off with a dismissive flick of her hand. "It's not that deep. You're overreacting, Yoko." Her smile was warm, disarming, making me feel oddly at ease. "Hey, do you mind if we exchange numbers? No pressure, but it'd be nice to keep in touch."

I hesitated, but then relented—it seemed the least I could do. "Sure. In case you decide to see a doctor and want to chase me down for the bill," I joked, half hoping she wouldn't.

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. "Don't worry, I won't. Just making friends."

I tugged gently on Ham's leash, signaling it was time to go. "Well, we'd better get going. Have a good evening, Becky."

"You too, Yoko," she replied, her eyes lingering on mine for a beat too long.

As I walked away, I could still feel her gaze on my back, a faint warmth spreading through me. It wasn't just the encounter that lingered—it was her. And that smile.

When I got home, I quickly prepared a simple dinner before settling down to tackle my mathematics homework. It was straightforward, just applying the formulas we'd learned in class. Before I knew it, I was done, and the evening was slipping into bedtime.

I cleared the table, wiping it down carefully to make sure there were no traces left behind, then headed up to my room.

Just as I was about to sink into bed, ready to call it a night, my phone pinged.

Unknown Number

Hey there! Is this Yoko?

I frowned at the message. Who could this be? And how did they know my name?

Yoko

Hi. Yes this is her. May I know who this is?

I couldn't remember sharing my number with anyone new recently. My mind wandered as I waited for a response, until the three dots appeared.

Unknown Number

Oh, don't be a stranger. It's Becky!

I blinked, the name finally clicking. The girl from the park—Ham's little "victim." I quickly saved her number into my contacts.

Yoko

Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you. How's the cut?

The dots reappeared, and I waited, tapping my fingers on the screen.

Becky

It's all good. You seemed pretty worried, huh?

Yoko

Yeah, well, It's my fault, after all.

Becky

Hey, no big deal, Yoko. If it makes you feel better, maybe we can hang out this weekend?

I stared at the message for a moment, unsure. But after a brief pause, my thumbs moved on their own.

Yoko

Sure. Sunday works. Just let me know where.

Becky

Sweet! I'll send you the details closer to the day. Have a good night, Yoko!

I responded with a simple "Goodnight" before setting my phone down. I lay in bed, the soft hum of the world outside the window lulling me toward sleep. I couldn't help but feel a strange flutter at the thought of seeing Becky again, but I pushed it away. For now, I was just hoping this week would end already.