[i hope that akechi's watching shutter island or cabin in the woods or something - anya will be wandering in curiously though, if only to see what else is on the tv. she perks up when she sees him, because of course she does, but tries not to be too loud as she stage whispers - ]
Goro... ♪
[ - and then with the eye contact, it all shifts.
It's a middle school classroom, and it is loud. Class has stopped for break time, and your classmates speak excitedly to teach other - but it is hard to follow what they say. It's Japanese, but only some words make it through the haze as they speak so quickly. I. Movie. Watch. Brother. Play?
Anxiety settles in your stomach - but you think of what your mother told you the day before, in gentle tones. "They want to be your friend too, Anya. Just try."
Your feet move slowly - but they move. You walk up to a small cluster of classmates and try not to notice the judgment and confusion in their eyes as you extend a hand. To your ears, you ask clearly in Russian: "What are you talking about?"
Their eyes narrow, frustrated over your inability to express yourself, and you fluster - trying to amend in Japanese, simple as it may be. "Talking about... what?"
- and so their frowns turn to sneers. They repeat your words "Talking about what?" with your accent, then laughing. They mock the way that you speak, and your hand comes back to your chest, as if their mean statements manage to shoot an arrow through your heart.
You retreat back to your desk even as they continue to laugh - and you're now a part of their conversation, you're sure of it. But you can't hear the clear words of their taunts, and you think that maybe that's for the better. You think that maybe it's better to say nothing at all now. Another group of students whispers manage to drift into your ears with words like: Strange girl. Cold. Can't speak.
And break is over - but you wonder if tomorrow will be any different at all.]
week three, tuesday.
Goro... ♪
[ - and then with the eye contact, it all shifts.
It's a middle school classroom, and it is loud. Class has stopped for break time, and your classmates speak excitedly to teach other - but it is hard to follow what they say. It's Japanese, but only some words make it through the haze as they speak so quickly. I. Movie. Watch. Brother. Play?
Anxiety settles in your stomach - but you think of what your mother told you the day before, in gentle tones. "They want to be your friend too, Anya. Just try."
Your feet move slowly - but they move. You walk up to a small cluster of classmates and try not to notice the judgment and confusion in their eyes as you extend a hand. To your ears, you ask clearly in Russian: "What are you talking about?"
Their eyes narrow, frustrated over your inability to express yourself, and you fluster - trying to amend in Japanese, simple as it may be. "Talking about... what?"
- and so their frowns turn to sneers. They repeat your words "Talking about what?" with your accent, then laughing. They mock the way that you speak, and your hand comes back to your chest, as if their mean statements manage to shoot an arrow through your heart.
You retreat back to your desk even as they continue to laugh - and you're now a part of their conversation, you're sure of it. But you can't hear the clear words of their taunts, and you think that maybe that's for the better. You think that maybe it's better to say nothing at all now. Another group of students whispers manage to drift into your ears with words like: Strange girl. Cold. Can't speak.
And break is over - but you wonder if tomorrow will be any different at all.]