Azumanga Daioh X WataMote

by Dr_John_Smith_1996

Summary:

In a shocking turn of events, Tomoko Kuroki's teacher notices she is a bit closed off. She gets sent to the school's new guidance counselor.

Chapter 1: Day 1

The bell had rung for lunch, but Tomoko Kuroki was not going anywhere. She sat stiffly in her seat, poking at her bento as if it were plotting her demise. Her homeroom teacher, a kind but oblivious man, hovered awkwardly near her desk.   

   

“You’ve been really quiet lately, Kuroki,” he said, scratching his head.   

   

Tomoko blinked at him, her expression screaming, I am always quiet, you idiot. But she only managed a weak grunt.  

   

“Well, I think it’d be good for you to talk to someone about it,” he continued, gesturing toward a paper in his hand. “We have a new guidance counselor. Why don’t you see her?”  

   

Tomoko’s stomach dropped. A guidance counselor? Oh great, she thought. Another middle-aged hack who hands out pamphlets about “loving yourself” and “positive affirmations.”  

   

The teacher smiled. “She is nice. Try it, okay?”  

   

“Sure,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.   

   

---  

   

On her way to the guidance office, Tomoko trudged down the hall, muttering under her breath like an edgy anime protagonist.  

   

“A guidance counselor. Pfft. Some washed-up college dropout,” she sneered. “Bet she is on her third divorce, chugging boxed wine every night while watching terrible dramas about rich people having affairs. ‘Let’s talk about your feelings, Tomoko.’ Yeah, sure. What am I paying you for? Oh wait, I’m not. Because you’re not even worth minimum wa—”  

   

She froze as she reached the door, her rant abruptly cut off. The plaque on the door read, Sakaki Azuma.  

   

“Huh. Weird name,” she muttered. Azuma? Sounds like a protagonist from one of those slow, artsy manga nobody reads. Bet she has a Ficus that is way more interesting than she is.  

   

Steeling herself, Tomoko pushed open the door.   

   

---  

   

Inside was... not what she expected. No cluttered desk with papers strewn everywhere. No scent of stale coffee. Instead, the room was oddly calming. Minimalistic but tasteful. And sitting at the desk was a tall, stoic woman with long black hair, gazing absently out the window. Her sharp, almost statuesque features gave her the appearance of someone who might have walked out of a shampoo commercial.   

   

Tomoko stood frozen, a small, involuntary squeak escaping her throat.   

   

The woman turned her head, her expression unreadable. “Come in,” she said, her voice soft but commanding. She gestured to the chair in front of her desk.   

   

Tomoko shuffled forward, plopping into the chair with all the grace of a potato. Oh my god. She is gorgeous. Like... unfairly gorgeous. She does not even know what a pimple looks like. Her skin’s so clear, it is practically Photoshopped. And her voice? Is she narrating nature documentaries in her spare time?  

   

The woman picked up the file her teacher had sent and began flipping through it.   

   

Tomoko’s mind raced. Ugh, of course she is perfect. Bet she was one of those popular girls in high school. Surrounded by friends, everyone loved her. Probably went to karaoke every weekend and never got out of tune. And look at her hands! They are so elegant. Like, does she even have pores? She must bathe in unicorn tears or something.  

   

“So, Kuroki-san,” the woman began, setting the file down. “I hear you’ve been having trouble speaking up in class.”  

   

Tomoko blinked, her thoughts screeching to a halt. “H-huh?” she stammered.   

   

Sakaki smiled faintly. “It is okay. I was the same way in high school. Quiet. Awkward. Not very many friends.”  

   

Tomoko’s jaw practically hit the floor. What?! Her? No way. That is impossible. She is clearly lying to make me feel better. Oh my god, I have seen this in those daytime soap operas. Next, she is going to say something about overcoming adversity and then give me a motivational speech that will make me cry. Wait. Do I know how to cry? I forgot how to cry! Crap, do I look weird just staring at her?  

   

“I spent most of my time alone,” Sakaki continued. “I loved animals, but they did not always love me back. There was this cat in my neighborhood... it always bit me when I got close.” She chuckled softly at the memory.  

   

Tomoko blinked again. Wait. Did she just joke about getting bitten by a cat? Is this humility act? Or... is she serious? Oh god, what if she is serious?  

   

Sakaki’s expression softened as she leaned forward slightly. “It’s okay to feel like you don’t fit in,” she said. “Sometimes, it just takes time to find your place.”  

   

Tomoko’s internal monologue sputtered. Wait, is she... for real? She is not telling me to “believe in myself” or whatever? No stupid pamphlets? Just... a tall, quiet woman that has bad luck with cats?  

   

The absurdity of it all struck Tomoko like a slap in the face. Suddenly, she did not know whether to laugh or cry. Instead, she blurted out, “Did you ever get the cat to like you?”  

   

Sakaki blinked, clearly caught off guard. Then, to Tomoko’s surprise, she smiled—a real, genuine smile that lit up her otherwise stoic face.   

   

“Eventually, not that specific cat,” Sakaki said. “But it took a lot of patience.”  

   

Tomoko sat there, stunned. For once, her mind was completely silent.   

   

---  

   

As she left the office, her thoughts began to whirl again.   

   

Okay, she is not a washed-up guidance counselor.  

   

And yet, for the first time in a long time, Tomoko felt... a little less alone.  

Chapter 2: Day 2

T

The bell rang, signaling the end of another school day. Tomoko Kuroki lingered in the hall, eyeing Sakaki’s office door like it was the entrance to a dragon’s lair. A boy appeared, looking much happier than anyone leaving a guidance counselor’s office had any right to be. Sakaki stood in the doorway, her calm expression softening into a small smile as she waved him goodbye. Then her eyes landed on Tomoko, and she gestured for her to enter.  

   

Tomoko sighed, dragging herself inside. Another round with Miss Perfect. Oh joy. What wisdom will she bestow on me today?  

   

Sakaki moved to her desk and sat down, typing something into her computer. Or at least trying to. Tomoko watched, her eyes narrowing. Sakaki’s fingers hovered over the keyboard like she was trying to defuse a bomb. Her typing was slow and deliberate, punctuated by the occasional backspace.   

   

Wait a second, Tomoko thought. Is she struggling to use a keyboard? Seriously? What is this, 2001? Did she grow up in the era of dial-up internet? Maybe she doesn’t even know what Wi-Fi is. Oh my god, is she... old?  

   

Her suspicions were confirmed when her eyes wandered to the wall. Hanging there was Sakaki’s high school diploma, the year at the bottom reading 2002.    

   

Holy crap, she is old ! Tomoko thought. She probably listened to Linkin Park and burned CDs. Does she have a Myspace page somewhere? Wait, does she even know what TikTok is?!  

   

Sakaki cleared her throat, snapping Tomoko out of her mental spiral. “So, Kuroki-san,” she began, her voice calm and measured as always. “Do you have trouble talking to anyone in particular?”   

   

Tomoko froze. Her brain screamed at her to say literally everyone, but her mouth betrayed her, managing only a tiny, “Uh... my brother. And... my best friend from middle school, Yuu Naruse.”  

   

Sakaki nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “Your brother and a friend from middle school. That’s a start,” she said. “It’s good to have at least a couple of people you feel comfortable talking to.”  

   

Tomoko fidgeted in her seat, her internal monologue flaring up again. “A start”? Is she kidding? That’s my entire social network. What does she want me to do, go out and make more friends? What is this, a shoujo manga?  

   

Sakaki leaned forward slightly. “What about your interests? What do you like to do in your free time?”  

   

Tomoko’s heart sank. Oh no. The question. The one that always made her want to crawl under a rock and die. She hesitated, her mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.  

   

“Uh... manga... anime...” she muttered, her voice barely audible. “...and visual novels.”  

   

Sakaki tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “Manga, anime, and visual novels,” she repeated thoughtfully. “That’s interesting.”  

   

Interesting? Tomoko’s brain screeched. Oh god, that’s the polite way of saying “wow, you’re a loser.” She’s probably imagining me as some greasy otaku who smells like potato chips. I should’ve lied and said I like sports. Or gardening. Do people even like gardening? Ugh, why didn’t I prepare for this?!  

   

But Sakaki didn’t press further. Instead, she offered a small, understanding smile. “It’s good to have hobbies. They give us something to look forward to.”  

   

Tomoko blinked, her internal monologue faltering. Wait... is she serious? She’s not judging me? She’s just... okay with it?    

   

The session ended shortly after, with Sakaki offering a gentle “Take care, Kuroki-san,” as Tomoko left the office.   

   

---  

   

Once the door closed, Sakaki leaned back in her chair, letting out a quiet sigh. Her gaze drifted to the framed photo on her desk—a picture of herself and her friends from high school. Yomi with her glasses glinting in the sunlight, Osaka making a silly face, Kagura flexing like a wannabe bodybuilder, Chiyo-Chan perched on a bench with her usual cheerful smile, and Tomo… well, Tomo being Tomo, mid-laugh with her arms flailing.  

   

Sakaki stared at the photo; her expression tinged with both fondness and regret. “Was I really that bad back then?” she murmured to herself.   

   

Her mind wandered to all the awkward moments she’d experienced as a teenager—her struggles to connect with others, the biting envy she’d felt toward anyone who seemed effortlessly outgoing, and, of course, her constant battles with that devilish cat.   

   

A faint smile crossed her lips as she remembered her friends fondly.  

Chapter 3: Day 3

Tomoko slumped into the chair in Sakaki’s office, staring at the ceiling as though it might offer her a way out of this ongoing torture. Sakaki, as always, sat calmly at her desk. A light breeze rustled the curtains, making the atmosphere weirdly serene for what felt to Tomoko like an interrogation chamber.  

   

Sakaki began, her voice soft and measured. “Today, I thought we’d talk about some methods to help you open up to others.”  

   

Tomoko’s internal monologue immediately flared up. Oh, sure, because “methods” are going to make me not a total freak. What’s next? A step-by-step guide titled “How to Make Friends When You’re a Social Disaster”?  

   

As Tomoko's mind made snide remarks, Sakaki continued. “One way is to focus on things you’d like to do with other people—shared activities or experiences. Thinking about those can help you identify opportunities to connect.”  

   

Tomoko stared blankly at her. Yeah, great idea, Miss 2002. Like I’m going to go up to someone and say, ‘Hey, want to do some totally normal shared activities?’ That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works.  

   

Sakaki picked up a small notepad from her desk and handed it to Tomoko. “Here,” she said. “Try making a list of things you want to do with other people. Think of it as... a quest in one of your visual novels.”  

   

Tomoko froze, staring at the notepad as if it were radioactive. Her internal thoughts went haywire. A quest? A QUEST? Does she even know what she’s talking about? I bet she's never even played a visual novel before! She'd probably get stuck in the first dialogue choice!  

   

“Take your time with it,” Sakaki added, her serene voice cutting through Tomoko’s mental screaming. “You don’t have to fill it out all at once. Just think about what makes you happy.”  

   

Tomoko muttered a half-hearted “Okay” before bolting out of the office, the notepad clutched in her sweaty palms.   

   

---  

   

As the door clicked shut behind her, Sakaki leaned back in her chair, letting out a small sigh. Her eyes drifted to her desk, where an old, slightly scuffed flip phone sat. She picked it up, flipping it open with a quiet snap . Her fingers navigated the outdated keypad with ease, and she dialed a familiar number.  

   

The phone rang twice before a lazy, familiar drawl answered. “Hellooo?”  

   

“Osaka,” Sakaki said, her voice softening slightly. “How are you?”  

   

“Oh, hey, Sakaki!” Osaka chirped. “I’m good, I’m good. Just tryin’ to figure out tomorrow’s lesson plans.”  

   

Sakaki couldn’t help but smile faintly. “How are things in Ajisai City? Do you have a class yet?”  

   

“Thangs 'r real peachy!” Osaka said proudly. “And 'course I do. The Kids're great. Lil' squirts can run faster than I ever could.”  

   

“Sounds like you’re settling in,” Sakaki replied. “We should catch up sometime.”  

   

“Yeah, yeah, that’d be real nice,” Osaka said, her voice warm.  

   

Sakaki chuckled softly before saying goodbye and closing the phone. For a moment, she sat in silence, staring at the old flip phone in her hand. She’d had it since high school—a relic of a simpler time, back when her own social struggles had felt insurmountable. Now, here she was, trying to help someone else navigate that same lonely path.  

   

---  

   

Back at home, Tomoko sat at her desk, the notepad staring back at her like it was mocking her. She picked up her pen, hovering over the blank page.   

   

"Okay," she sighed. "What do I want to do with other people? Easy. I’ll just... write something... normal. Like, uh... hanging out at a café? Or maybe... going to karaoke? Ugh, no. I’d have to sing in front of people. Pass."  

   

Her pen scratched out a single word— “nothing”—before she angrily scribbled over it. "What’s the point?"  she groaned. “It’s not like I’ll do any of this. I’m just going to be that weird loner forever. Maybe I should just write “find a cool ally to take on my next dungeon raid” and be done with it."  

   

The notepad remained mostly blank, save for a few random doodles of anime eyes and a poorly drawn cat. Tomoko groaned, slamming her head down onto the desk.  

   

"Great. Now I’m failing at homework from the guidance counselor."  

   

She glanced at the notepad one more time before shoving it into her bag, her frustration simmering. Maybe tomorrow she’ll think of something. Or maybe she’d just show up with a blank page and hope Sakaki didn’t mind. Either way, she wasn’t looking forward to Day 4.  

Chapter 4: Day 4

Day 4. Tomoko slouched in the chair outside the counselor's room, her bag hanging limply off her shoulder. The hallways were quieter than usual, and she could hear faint typing from within the office, followed by an audible groan. Her internal monologue was already warming up.  

   

Day four of this circus. Can’t wait to fail another pep talk from Miss Cool-and-Collected over there. Seriously, why am I even here? It’s not like she’s a miracle worker. If I can’t even figure out how to talk to people, how’s she supposed to fix it?    

   

The door creaked open, and another student dashed out, smiling. “Thanks, Sakaki-sensei! That really helped!”    

   

Tomoko scowled after the student. Yeah, sure it helped. What did she tell you? ‘Smile more’? Maybe she’s running a secret cult of people who like group hugs and talking about their feelings.    

   

Sakaki appeared in the doorway, her expression calm and unreadable as always. “You can come in now,” she said, motioning for Tomoko to enter.  

   

Tomoko trudged in, dragging her feet. Her head hung low, and she didn’t admit that she hadn’t written anything in the notebook Sakaki had given her. She collapsed into the chair across from Sakaki’s desk, her body slouching so much she resembled a comma.    

   

Sakaki was typing again—or rather, trying to type. Her fingers hovered uncertainly over the keyboard as she muttered to herself. “Why does this search bar keep moving? And how do you close these notifications?”    

   

Tomoko’s inner voice immediately lit up. Oh my god, is she... struggling with Windows 10? What, did she skip right from Windows XP to this? Confirmed: she’s officially ancient. What next, is she going to ask how to check her Hotmail?    

   

Sakaki gave up on the computer with an exasperated sigh and turned her attention to Tomoko, her soft gaze meeting Tomoko’s single visible eye. “Did you write anything down?”    

   

Tomoko froze, her grip tightening on her bag. She didn’t answer, but the sheepish look in her eye betrayed her. Sakaki’s calm expression didn’t waver, but there was a faint flicker of understanding.  

   

“You didn’t, did you?” she asked gently.  

   

Tomoko shrank deeper into her chair, her mind racing. How does she do that? Is it a superpower? Or maybe she’s psychic.    

   

Sakaki leaned back slightly, tilting her head in thought. After a moment, she stood up and walked to a small cabinet in the corner of the room. She returned with a mug and placed it on the desk in front of Tomoko.  

   

Tomoko blinked at it. “Is... is this coffee?” she asked, her voice barely audible.  

   

Sakaki shook her head. “No. It’s chamomile tea. It might help you clear your mind.”    

   

Tomoko stared at the mug like it was an alien artifact. Chamomile tea? Who even drinks that? What am I, an old lady heading to bed?    

   

Reluctantly, she picked up the mug, blowing on it before taking a small sip. The warmth spread through her hands and chest, and she felt herself relax ever so slightly.  

   

Sakaki leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “You seem hard on yourself,” she said. “Why do you think that is?”    

   

Tomoko hesitated, her thoughts swirling. Why do I think that is? Gee, let me think. Maybe it’s because I’m a total loser who peaked in middle school and now can’t even say ‘hi’ to someone without it sounding like I’m coughing up a hairball.    

   

Sakaki didn’t press her, letting the silence hang in the air. Finally, Tomoko muttered, “I don’t know. I was... different in middle school.”    

   

Sakaki nodded, her gaze steady but kind. “What changed?”    

   

Tomoko hesitated, gripping the mug tightly. Her mind raced back to memories of Yuu Naruse, of classmates who used to laugh at her jokes, of a time when she felt like she mattered. Now, she could barely get through a school day without hiding in the bathroom.  

   

“I don’t know,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I guess... I just became... nothing.”    

   

Sakaki’s brow furrowed slightly. She reached for a small notepad on her desk and tapped it lightly. “You’re not nothing. You’re just... still figuring yourself out. Everyone’s different, and that’s okay. But you don’t have to do it alone.”    

   

Tomoko didn’t respond, instead staring into her tea. Still figuring myself out? What am I, a puzzle? No, wait, I’m more like one of those board games where the instructions are missing, and you just kind of... give up and shove it into the closet.    

   

After the session, Sakaki lingered at her desk, watching Tomoko shuffle out of the room with the mug still in hand. Once the door closed, she picked up a framed photo sitting by her computer—The picture of her high school friends.  

   

Sakaki sighed softly, brushing a finger over the glass. “I wasn't that bad? Was I?” she murmured.  

   

In her mind, she could almost hear Osaka’s voice saying something ridiculous, followed by Tomo laughing hysterically. A small, fond smile crept onto her face as she set the photo back down and returned to her computer.  

   

As she struggled once again with Windows 10, she made a mental note to check on Tomoko tomorrow. Maybe there was hope for her yet.  

Chapter 5: Saturday Encounter

It was a Saturday afternoon, and Tomoko was making her usual lonely rounds at the local arcade. The sounds of flashing machines, cheering teens, and clinking tokens filled the air, but Tomoko was barely paying attention. Her headphones were on, playing one of her favorite yandere boyfriend ASMR audios at just the right volume to drown out the world.  

   

This is fine, she thought, trying to reassure herself. I don’t need my dumb brother or Yuu to have a good time. Besides, it’s not like they’d appreciate the subtleties of this place.    

   

In truth, she’d begged Tomoki to come with her. Practically threw herself on the floor, pleading for him to hang out, but as always, he declined. Something about soccer practice or not wanting to be seen in public with her. Whatever. It didn’t matter. She didn’t need him.  

   

As she wove through the crowded arcade, headphones still blasting, she caught snippets of kids shouting at their victories and teens chatting over loud music. It wasn’t until she took off her headphones for a moment that something unusual caught her attention.  

   

A soft yet oddly determined voice cut through the noise.    

   

“Come on... just a little more. Please…”    

   

Tomoko froze, ears perking up. She turned her head toward the source of the sound and spotted an unexpected sight: Sakaki, her calm and collected guidance counselor, hunched over a claw machine with a focused intensity.  

   

Tomoko blinked, stunned. Wait, what?    

   

Sakaki stood poised in front of the machine, gripping the joystick with the kind of seriousness reserved for life-or-death situations. The target of her efforts? A small plush cat toy, its oversized head and wide eyes mocking her from behind the glass.  

   

Sakaki gently maneuvered the claw into position. Her voice cracked under the pressure. “Please, just stay... just this once.”    

   

The claw descended, grasping the plush cat by its squishy head. For a fleeting moment, it seemed she might succeed. But as the claw began to rise, the toy slipped free and tumbled back into the pile.  

   

Sakaki sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. “Why do these machines never cooperate…”    

   

Tomoko watched in awe, her inner monologue running wild. What just happened? Did Sakaki-sensei just get her butt kicked by a claw machine?    

   

She tried to suppress a grin, but her face betrayed her. She couldn’t help but think that Sakaki’s composed demeanor at school had been a total lie.  

   

As Sakaki turned away from the machine, a small, defeated sigh escaping her lips, she caught sight of Tomoko standing nearby. Their eyes met, and Tomoko froze. Her face turned white, as though she was a deer caught in headlights.  

   

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. She saw me! Play it cool, Tomoko. Act natural! Or just... disappear! You mastered that right? Dammit it's not working!  

   

But before she could slink away into the crowd, Sakaki approached her.  

   

“Kuroki-san?” Sakaki said, tilting her head slightly. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”    

   

Tomoko stammered, her words tumbling out like marbles. “Uh, I... I was just... uh...”    

   

“Are you here by yourself?” Sakaki asked gently.  

   

Tomoko hesitated, her mind racing for an excuse. Talking felt like climbing a mountain, each word a boulder to push uphill. “I-I mean... Yuu’s busy... with her boyfriend. And, uh, Tomoki’s... got soccer practice...”    

   

Sakaki nodded thoughtfully, her gaze soft. “I see.”    

   

Before Tomoko could make a hasty escape, Sakaki gestured toward the nearby outdoor café. “Why don’t we sit for a bit? I could use some tea after... that.” She glanced back at the claw machine with a faint look of betrayal.  

   

Tomoko didn’t know how to refuse, so a few minutes later, they were seated at a small table outside the arcade. The sun was warm, and the air smelled faintly of fried food and sugary treats from the nearby food stalls.  

   

Sakaki ordered tea for them both, and Tomoko stared at her cup, avoiding eye contact.  

   

“Do you come here often?” Sakaki asked, breaking the silence.  

   

Tomoko shrugged, still staring at the table. “Sometimes...”    

   

Sakaki took a sip of her tea. “Arcades can be fun. I used to go to them a lot in high school, though they were a little different back then.”    

   

Tomoko’s mind jumped on that immediately. Yeah, I’ll bet.    

   

Sakaki didn’t seem to notice Tomoko’s thoughts racing. “It’s nice to get out and do something you enjoy, even if it’s by yourself. But it’s also okay to want to share those moments with others.”    

   

Tomoko fidgeted with her teacup. Share moments? With whom? Like there’s anyone who’d even want to hang out with me.    

   

Sakaki studied her quietly for a moment. “You mentioned your brother and Yuu. Do you talk to them about what you’re feeling?”    

   

Tomoko shook her head quickly. “No. I mean... it’s not like they’d understand.”    

   

Sakaki’s expression softened further. “You might be surprised. Sometimes the people we think don’t understand us are the ones who care the most.”    

   

Tomoko didn’t respond, instead sipping her tea in silence. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but she didn’t know how to put any of them into words.  

   

The rest of the conversation was light, with Sakaki occasionally asking about Tomoko’s favorite arcade games and sharing a few stories from her own high school days. By the time they parted ways, Tomoko felt an odd sense of calm.  

   

As she walked home, clutching a small plush cat that Sakaki had somehow managed to win for her before they left, Tomoko couldn’t help but glance back at the arcade. For once, her inner voice was quiet.  

Chapter 6: Day 5

Day 5 of Tomoko’s counseling sessions began like the others, with her dragging her feet to Sakaki’s office. She hesitated outside the door for a moment, fiddling with the strap of her bag. Ugh, I’m just going to get asked if I wrote stuff down again... and I didn’t. Maybe if I play dead, she’ll think I’m sick and let me off easy.     

   

Her thoughts were interrupted by muffled yelling. She leaned closer to the door, her curiosity piqued.    

   

“Why won’t you just WORK !” came a frustrated shout from inside.  

   

Tomoko peeked in to find Sakaki sitting at her desk, glaring at her computer with uncharacteristic fury. The calm, serene guidance counselor was nowhere to be seen. Instead, she looked like she was ready to throw the monitor out the window.  

   

Sakaki threw her hands up in despair. “Computers were so much easier back when I was in school! Why does everything have to be so complicated now?!”    

   

Tomoko stood frozen in the doorway, unsure if she should announce her presence or quietly back away. Before she could decide, she let out an involuntary squeak.  

   

Sakaki snapped her head toward the door, instantly straightening up. In the blink of an eye, her usual calm and soothing demeanor returned, like a curtain being drawn over a chaotic stage. “Ah, Kuroki-san. You’re here.”    

   

Tomoko shuffled awkwardly, her eyes darting toward the computer. Her inner voice wasted no time jumping in. Wow, calm and collected Sakaki-sensei, reduced to a sweaty, yelling mess by a computer file. Guess nobody’s perfect. Heh. Wait... if I make one wrong move, she might go full yandere teacher on me. Okay, Tomoko, tread carefully.     

   

Sakaki folded her hands on the desk, as if nothing had happened. “Did you write down any ideas in your notebook?”    

   

Tomoko froze. Abort! Abort! She quickly glanced around the room, searching for an escape route. Then her eyes landed on the computer screen. Her inner thoughts flared. Hold up. She couldn’t even find her student file? Even I can do that.    

   

Without a word, Tomoko waved Sakaki out of her chair and took her place in front of the computer. Sakaki looked startled but complied, stepping aside. Tomoko quickly navigated the computer, finding the missing student file in seconds.  

   

“There,” Tomoko muttered, slinking back into her chair as though she hadn’t just performed an act of tech wizardry.  

   

Sakaki stared at her with wide eyes, the kind of expression that looked almost identical to Chiyo’s back in the day. “You found it so quickly,” she said, genuinely impressed.  

   

Tomoko glanced down, trying to hide her smirk. Yeah, bow to the master. If finding files was a sport, I’d be an Olympic gold medalist. Ugh, why did she look at me like that? Stop making me feel weird!    

   

After Sakaki regained her composure, she made their usual tea. The room was silent except for the soft clinking of cups. Once they both settled in, Sakaki spoke up. “Would it help if I shared a story from my own youth? About how I met my friends?”    

   

Tomoko hesitated but nodded silently. Sure, why not? Let’s hear about how perfect you’ve been your whole life.    

   

Sakaki gestured to the framed photo on her desk. “These were my friends from high school. We had... quite the dynamic group.”    

   

Tomoko leaned forward to get a better look at the photo. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on Chiyo. Hold up. Is that... a child? Why is there a literal elementary schooler in this group? What kind of high school was this?    

   

Sakaki smiled softly, oblivious to Tomoko’s spiraling thoughts. “That’s Chiyo. She was a genius and skipped several grades. She was our moral compass, always so cheerful and mature for her age.”    

   

Tomoko’s thoughts raged on. Mature?! She’s, like, ten! What kind of delinquent group adopts a child? Were they running a babysitting ring?    

   

Sakaki continued, pointing to each person in the photo. “This is Yomi. She was the responsible one, always trying to keep us in line. She had a lot of patience... which she needed, considering she was best friends with Tomo.”    

   

Tomoko tilted her head. “Tomo?”    

   

Sakaki chuckled lightly. “Tomo was... very energetic. And impulsive. She once tried to prove she could climb a tree faster than anyone else, only to get stuck halfway up. Yomi had to talk her down.”    

   

Tomoko stared at the photo. Energetic? Sounds like code for ‘complete maniac.’     

   

“And this is Osaka,” Sakaki said with a fond smile. “She was a little... different. She had an incredibly unique way of looking at the world.”    

   

Tomoko narrowed her eyes. Different? Yeah, that’s just a subtle way of saying ‘totally nuts.’     

   

“Kagura was our athlete,” Sakaki continued. “She was always so competitive, especially with me. But she had a big heart.”    

   

Finally, Sakaki pointed to herself in the photo. “And... Well, that’s me. I was always quiet, but they accepted me for who I was. It wasn’t always easy, but they were my friends.”    

   

Tomoko stared at the photo, her inner monologue unusually quiet. For a moment, she thought about what it would be like to have a group like that—a group where she could be herself, even if she was awkward and weird.  

   

Sakaki’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Friendship doesn’t always come easily. Sometimes, it takes time and effort. But it’s worth it.”    

   

Tomoko nodded slowly, gripping the notebook Sakaki had given her. She still didn’t have any ideas written down but now she thought maybe she could try.  

Chapter 7: Day 6

The morning of Day 6 began in the faculty lounge, where all the teachers were gathered for a meeting. The principal stood at the front, explaining updates about new policies and initiatives for the semester. Sakaki sat near the back; her hands folded neatly on the table. Her body was there, but her mind drifted elsewhere.    

   

Her eyes were fixed on the window, watching the clouds inch slowly across the pale morning sky. She let out a soft, inaudible sigh. Even in my thirties, I can’t seem to shake this habit. Always the seat by the window. Always gazing out, wondering about things far beyond my reach.    

   

The room bustled with murmurs and note-taking, but Sakaki remained quiet, the faintest trace of nostalgia playing across her face. Her thoughts deepened. I wonder if this is why people said I was “mature” back then—because I didn’t get caught up in the chaos. I wasn’t mature. I just didn’t know how to join in.    

   

---  

   

Later that day, Sakaki found herself walking through the halls, a small stack of papers in hand, on her way to her office. The rhythmic clicking of her heels on the polished floor echoed softly.  

   

As she passed one of the classrooms, she paused. Her eyes were drawn to the window and through it to a familiar figure in the room's far back corner.  

   

Tomoko.  

   

The girl sat slouched in her chair, her chin resting on her hand. Her eyes wandered out the window. Sakaki couldn’t help but linger, her gaze softening.  

   

For a moment, the classroom blurred. In Tomoko, she saw herself—a teenage Sakaki, sitting quietly in the back corner, barely listening to Yukari’s latest inane rants about English grammar, or her wallet getting stolen for the umpteenth time, whatever nonsensical feud she had with Nyamo-sensei that week. Always watching from a distance.    

   

How many hours did I spend like that? Staring out the window, wishing I could be anywhere else?    

   

Sakaki’s grip on the papers tightened slightly, her calm mask cracking just a bit. She turned away, her steps heavier as she continued down the hall.  

   

---  

   

At lunch, Sakaki sat with Tomoko’s homeroom teacher. Between bites of her bento, Sakaki worked up the courage to ask. “How is Kuroki-san in class?”    

   

The homeroom teacher tilted his head thoughtfully. “Hmm... She's quiet. Very quiet. Doesn’t really speak unless spoken to. But she’s polite, and she does her work. She’s... well, she’s just kind of there.”    

   

Sakaki frowned slightly. “Do any of her classmates... notice her?”    

   

The teacher hesitated. “Not from what I’ve seen. Most of the students act like she isn’t even there. I don’t think she has many friends. She’s... a little hard to approach at times.”    

   

Sakaki nodded. Inside, her thoughts churned. Just like me. She’s sitting there, hoping someone will notice her, but she doesn’t know how to ask. How to connect. And the world just keeps spinning around her.    

Chapter 8: Girls Night Out

The two of them stepped into the arcade, the neon lights reflecting off the glossy floor and the air thick with the chaotic symphony of beeps, dings, and cheers. Tomoko adjusted her hoodie nervously, her eyes darting around the bustling crowd. Oh no, it’s loud. It’s crowded. There are people who might see me and immediately know I’m lame. Abort, abort, ABORT—      

    

“Kuroki-san?” Sakaki’s soft voice brought her back to the moment. Sakaki gestured toward the rows of machines, with a small, encouraging smile on her face. “Let’s play a little.”     

    

Tomoko nodded stiffly, trying to appear nonchalant. Yeah, sure. Let’s play. Let’s also die of secondhand embarrassment when everyone here realizes I’ve been dragged out by my guidance counselor.     

    

---   

    

They started with Skee-Ball. Tomoko threw her first ball, sending it careening off the side and into the gutter. She glared at the machine, as if it had personally wronged her. Stupid game. Probably rigged.     

    

Sakaki’s turn was much different than Tomoko's, each ball rolling smoothly up the ramp. Even when she didn’t get a perfect score, her rolls were so graceful that she made it look like she had. Tomoko’s inner voice snarled. Of course she’s good at this. Of course. She probably just exists to make everyone else look bad.     

    

Next was Whack-A-Mole. Tomoko flailed wildly, her mallet striking with a ferocity that startled Sakaki. “Kuroki-san, you’re very... passionate about this game,” Sakaki said, her voice tinged with surprise.    

    

“IT’S FINE!” Tomoko snapped, panting as the final mole disappeared. She straightened her posture awkwardly. I’m not letting you think I’m a psychopath, Sakaki-sensei. I just, uh, hate... moles. Yeah. That’s it.     

    

Then came the video arcade games. Sakaki, sitting in front of a fighting game, clumsily mashed buttons, her character flailing hopelessly as Tomoko’s avatar delivered a flawless combo. Sakaki glanced at her with an embarrassed smile. “I’ve never been good at video games.”     

    

Tomoko blinked. Wait. Is she bad at something? Is this my moment? Her inner thoughts did a victory lap. I AM THE QUEEN OF THE ARCADE. BOW BEFORE ME, PEASANTS!     

    

“Good job, Kuroki-san,” Sakaki said warmly.    

    

Tomoko shrugged, trying to appear cool. “Yeah, whatever.” She complimented me. This is what victory tastes like?     

    

---   

    

As the evening went on, Tomoko found herself loosening up. Without even realizing it, she was chatting with Sakaki casually, the way she talked to Yuu or Tomoki. She laughed when Sakaki narrowly avoided tripping over a discarded cup, and she even teased her when her claw machine attempt failed miserably.    

    

Sakaki noticed. She smiled to herself, watching as Tomoko gestured animatedly about how she almost beat the high score on the racing game. She’s opening up. This is good. This is progress.     

    

---   

    

The night took a turn, however, at the karaoke lounge. Sakaki had insisted they stop by before heading home, and Tomoko hadn’t thought much of it—until Sakaki ordered a drink.    

    

“Are... are teachers allowed to drink around students?” Tomoko asked nervously, watching Sakaki down her first cocktail with unsettling efficiency.    

    

“It’s fine,” Sakaki said with a small hiccup. “We’re not on school grounds.”     

    

Twenty minutes later, Sakaki sat slumped over the table, her head resting on her folded arms as she sobbed dramatically into her sleeves.    

    

Tomoko sat stiffly across from her, unsure of what to do. What. Is. Happening.     

    

“My life is a disaster,” Sakaki wailed, her voice muffled. “Yomi got married a year ago! I was one of her bridesmaids, you know? And last month, Kagura got married too! I caught the bouquet, but what does it matter?!”     

    

Tomoko blinked. I don’t even know who these people are, but I can tell they’re probably less pathetic than me. Is that supposed to make me feel better or worse?     

    

“And—and Tomo!” Sakaki cried, sitting up suddenly. Her face was flushed and her eyes streaming with tears. “She’s married. MARRIED. And has a daughter. A DAUGHTER, Kuroki-san. HOW. ”     

    

Tomoko’s brain short-circuited. Wait. Wait wait wait. Married? A daughter? The maniac? Someone LET her reproduce?! Who would do that?!      

    

“And Chiyo,” Sakaki whispered, her voice trembling. “Sweet, little Chiyo-Chan." She’s engaged now. Engaged! She’s barely twenty-five, and here I am, single, thirty-something, with five failed relationships!”     

    

Tomoko stared at her, wide-eyed. Okay, yeah, this is officially worse than that time my mom got drunk at New Year’s and tried to convince me to join a knitting club.     

    

“My last boyfriend,” Sakaki continued, her voice breaking. “He said I wasn’t ‘womanly’ enough! What does that even mean?! And now... now my best friend is one of my students!” She gestured dramatically at Tomoko. “You’re my best friend, Kuroki-san!”     

    

Tomoko froze. Nope. Nope nope nope. Abort. Shut it down. I am not qualified for this. This is above my pay grade.     

    

---   

    

By the time they left, Sakaki was leaning heavily on Tomoko’s shoulder, stumbling as she tried to keep her posture steady. “I can still drive,” she mumbled, fumbling for her keys.    

    

Tomoko snatched them away. “Nuh-uh, Sensei. You’re not fit to drive.”     

    

Sakaki laughed softly, her voice slurring every other word. “You’re such a good friend, Kuroki-san.”     

    

Tomoko groaned internally. This is my life now. Babysitting my guidance counselor. I didn’t sign up for this. Why is this happening to me?     

    

But as they walked, Tomoko felt something strange. Despite the chaos, despite the awkwardness, she didn’t feel as anxious as she usually did. In fact, she felt... oddly okay.  

Chapter 9: Day 7

The morning sunlight streaming into Sakaki’s office felt like a cruel joke. She sat at her desk, head propped up by her hand, sipping on what had to be her fourth or fifth cup of coffee. Her normally serene demeanor was gone, replaced by a look of quiet suffering.    

    

On her flip phone, a familiar Kansai-accented voice rambled cheerfully. “So then, this lil’ girl, Yotsuba-Chan, she said she was gonna turn her pappy into a beetle. Can ya believe that? Outta the mouths of babes, I tell ya..”     

    

Sakaki nodded weakly. “That’s... nice to hear,” she said, her voice hoarse.    

    

Is this how Yukari-sensei felt all the time? Sakaki wondered bleakly as she took another sip of coffee. How did she survive like this? Was she powered by spite? Knowing her, she probably was.    

    

---   

    

The door creaked open, and Tomoko poked her head in cautiously. She froze, her eyes narrowing as she spotted the ancient relic in Sakaki’s hand. Is that... is that a flip phone?! Oh my god. She hasn’t upgraded since dinosaurs roamed the earth. Does it take her a week to text?     

    

Sakaki looked up, her expression softening slightly despite the pounding in her head. “Ah, Kuroki-san. Come in.” She turned her attention back to the phone. “Osaka, I must go. One of my students just arrived.”     

    

“Ohhh, is that the friend ya were talkin’ ‘bout the other day?” Osaka asked cheerfully.    

    

Sakaki stiffened. “I... uh...”     

    

Tomoko’s mind went into overdrive. Wait, she talks about me to her friends? What does she even say?! ‘Oh, Kuroki-san is this socially inept weirdo who probably eats lunch in the bathroom.’     

    

“She’s... special,” Sakaki said delicately, clearly trying to spare Tomoko’s feelings.    

    

Tomoko’s eye twitched. Special?! What am I, a charity case?     

    

When the call finally ended, Sakaki set the flip phone down on her desk with a tired sigh. She turned to Tomoko; her face flushed with embarrassment. “I want to apologize for last night, Kuroki-san. I... shouldn’t have gotten drunk, and I shouldn’t have put you in such an awkward position. It was extremely unprofessional of me, and unfair to you.”     

    

Tomoko fidgeted, unsure how to respond. What am I supposed to say? ‘Don’t worry, Sensei, I totally enjoyed being your designated adult while you sobbed about your love life’?!      

    

Sakaki gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I’m not always as ‘cool’ as people think I am.”     

    

Tomoko blinked. Wait. Cool? If half the boys in my class saw you last night, they’d stop daydreaming about you! She glanced at Sakaki’s flip phone again. You’re literally clinging to technology that died before I hit puberty. You’re about as cool as those dads who still think Bluetooth earpieces are cutting-edge.     

    

---   

    

Once Sakaki had finished her coffee—and half of Tomoko’s patience—she sat up a little straighter, looking slightly more alive. “Did you write anything in your notebook this week?” she asked gently.    

    

Tomoko froze, her brain immediately panicked. Notebook. Oh no. The notebook. She rifled through her bag, pulling out the crumpled book like it was radioactive. What do I even have in here? A doodle of my imaginary vampire boyfriend? Some half-baked ideas about hanging out with Yuu? Ugh, she’s going to think I’m useless.     

    

Sakaki smiled encouragingly. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just anything you’ve thought about.”     

    

Tomoko reluctantly opened the notebook, flipping to the page she’d scrawled on. It read:     

    

1. Go to karaoke with someone (Probably Yuu)   

1. Watch a movie with someone (Probably Tomoki…)   

1. Go to the arcade (This time with someone else)    

    

Sakaki tilted her head as she read. “These are good ideas, Kuroki-san. They’re simple, but meaningful.”     

    

Tomoko crossed her arms defensively. Yeah, I know they’re good ideas. I’m not completely clueless, you know. Though, let’s be real, karaoke is probably going to end with me dying of secondhand embarrassment while someone belts out off-key anime openings.     

    

Sakaki tapped the page thoughtfully. “If you’d like, I can help you with these.”     

    

Tomoko stared at her. What, are you going to come to karaoke with me too? Maybe we’ll do a duet. You can sing some songs that came out while I was still in diapers, and I’ll mumble my way through an anime theme song. This is not going to end in disaster.      

    

Sakaki’s smile was warm and genuine. “I think you’re making real progress, Kuroki-san. Don’t be too hard on yourself.”     

    

Tomoko felt a strange pang in her chest. Oh no. Is this what validation feels like? I’m not ready for this.     

    

Sakaki glanced at her flip phone, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “I think I’ll upgrade my phone soon,” she said.    

    

Tomoko almost choked. Oh my god, did I just witness the evolution of man? This is a historic moment. Someone call the press. ‘Ancient dinosaur hits modern age.’    

 

Chapter 10: Day 8

Tomoko sat in Sakaki’s office, hunched over the tiny chair that felt like it was mocking her very existence. Sakaki was at her desk, flipping through some papers and droning on about different methods to improve social interactions. Her voice was soothing, sure, but after a while, it had all turned into a white noise.    

   

Tomoko’s eyes glazed over as her mind wandered. God, this is so boring. I get it, “Smile more.” “Make eye contact.” “Ask open-ended questions.” Blah, blah, blah. Where’s the advice on how to become instantly popular and get a harem of hot boys begging to carry my books to class?    

   

As if summoned by her own imagination, Tomoko drifted into a daydream. She strolled into class, her hair shiny and perfectly styled, her uniform tailored to perfection. All the boys turned to look at her, their eyes wide with admiration.  

   

“Oh, Kuroki-san, you’re so beautiful today!” One boy exclaimed.  

   

“Kuroki-san, please let me sit next to you!” Another cried, holding out a bouquet of roses.  

   

Tomoko smirked in her fantasy. "That’s right, peasants. Bow before your queen."     

   

“...Kuroki-san?”    

   

The voice snapped her back to reality.   

   

She blinked, realizing Sakaki was now staring at her, one eyebrow slightly raised.  

   

Tomoko’s face went beet red. “Uh, what? Sorry, what were you saying?”    

   

Sakaki sighed softly, a knowing look in her eyes. “Kuroki-san, I’ve been meaning to ask—are you getting enough sleep?”    

   

Tomoko froze, her blood running cold. Oh no. She’s onto me.    

   

Sakaki leaned forward, her expression one of genuine concern. “The dark circles under your eyes... They’ve been noticeable since our first session. I can’t help but wonder if you’re not sleeping well. Do you have a consistent bedtime routine?”    

   

Tomoko’s internal alarm bells were screaming. Bedtime routine? What am I? Three? What am I supposed to say? That I spend hours lying awake, scrolling through cursed internet forums and watching yandere boyfriend ASMR until my eyeballs burn?    

   

“I... uh... yeah, I sleep fine,” Tomoko mumbled, avoiding eye contact.  

   

Sakaki tilted her head, unconvinced. “Really? Because medically speaking, what you’re experiencing looks like 'Periorbital Hyperpigmentation.' It’s often caused by lack of sleep or poor lifestyle habits.”    

   

Tomoko blinked. Perio-what now? Is that the medical term for “staying up until 3 a.m. to rank anime husbando lists”?    

   

Sakaki smiled gently but didn’t let up. “Do you do anything to relax before bed? Yoga? Meditation? A nice cup of tea?”    

   

Tomoko froze again. Oh god, she won’t let it go. What am I supposed to say? ‘Well, Sensei, I like to procrastinate until midnight, then spend the next two hours spiraling into an existential crisis while refreshing Twitter for memes?    

   

Sakaki reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a thick folder, placing it in front of Tomoko with an air of finality. “Here. I’ve put together some resources to help you develop a better sleep schedule.”    

   

Tomoko stared at the folder like it was a cursed artifact. “What’s this?”    

   

“Inside, you’ll find tips for creating a bedtime routine,” Sakaki explained. “There are breathing exercises, yoga techniques, and even a list of relaxation teas you can try.”    

   

Tomoko cautiously opened the folder, flipping through pages of neatly printed tips. Sleep schedules? Yoga poses? Lavender chamomile tea?! I’m not a middle-aged mom trying to unwind after book club!    

   

“And one more thing,” Sakaki said, her tone shifting slightly.  

   

Tomoko looked up warily. “What?”    

   

Sakaki’s face was serene, but her words hit like a thunderbolt. “No internet after 10 p.m.”    

   

Tomoko’s brain short-circuited. “ WHAT?!”     

   

Sakaki nodded firmly. “Blue light can interfere with your ability to fall asleep. It’s important to disconnect and let your mind relax.”    

   

Tomoko clutched the folder to her chest like a lifeline. No internet after 10?! How am I supposed to survive? What about my nightly routine of refreshing forums, watching creepy videos, and reading bad fanfiction like this one?! This is a death sentence!    

   

“But... but... what if I need to look something up?!” Tomoko protested weakly.  

   

Sakaki raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” Her voice took a turn into what Tomoko could only call deadpan.   

   

Tomoko flailed internally. I don’t know! Anime trivia? New shipping wars? How to summon a demon boyfriend to cure my loneliness?!     

   

“You can always read a book,” Sakaki suggested.  

   

Tomoko’s jaw dropped. A book? A book? What is this, the Dark Ages? That’s why fanfiction was invented!  

   

The rest of the session passed in a blur, with Sakaki gently explaining the importance of sleep hygiene while Tomoko’s mind spiraled into chaos. By the time she left the office, folder begrudgingly in hand, she felt like she’d just been sentenced to life without parole.  

   

As she trudged back to class, she muttered under her breath, “No internet after 10... This is the end of my life. Goodbye, cruel world.”   

   

That night Tomoko lay in her bed, tossing and turning like a fish flopping around on dry land. Her blankets were a tangled mess, her pillow somehow too soft and too hard at the same time, and her mind was a whirlpool of chaos. The room was dark, except for the faint glow of her phone sitting tantalizingly on the nightstand.  

   

This is torture. Absolute torture, she thought. Her eyes darted to the clock. 10:02 p.m. It felt like she’d been in bed for hours, but it had barely been two minutes past Sakaki’s cursed 'No Internet' deadline.  

   

Her hand twitched toward her phone. Just a quick peek... No! What if she knows? What if she can somehow sense it? She froze, imagining Sakaki’s calm, judgmental face looming in the darkness. “Kuroki-san, I thought we agreed on no screens after 10 p.m.”  

   

Tomoko shuddered. Why do I feel like she can see me? Is she an omnipotent sleep deity?  

   

Desperate, she bolted upright in bed, her hair sticking up like a mad scientist’s. “I can’t do this,” she muttered. “I need a distraction. Something. Anything.”  

   

Her eyes lit up as an idea struck her. She stumbled out of her room, the floor cold against her bare feet, and made a beeline for Tomoki’s room. Without bothering to knock, she barged in.  

   

Tomoki was lying in bed, his face illuminated by the soft glow of his phone. He didn’t even glance up. “What do you want?”  

   

“Hey, do you want to play Smash Bros?” Tomoko asked, her voice a mix of desperation and false cheer.  

   

Tomoki sighed, scrolling through memes without looking at her. “No.”  

   

Tomoko flinched but pressed on. “Come on! Just one round.”  

   

“No,” Tomoki said again, his voice deadpan.  

   

Tomoko clasped her hands together, her eyes wide and pleading. “Please, Tomoki! I’m so bored! I can’t sleep! Sakaki-sensei cursed me with her stupid advice, and now I’m suffering! You wouldn’t let your only sister die of boredom, would you?”  

   

Tomoki sighed heavily, finally looking at her with a mix of annoyance and pity. “You’re pathetic.”  

   

Tomoko threw herself onto his bed dramatically, causing Tomoki to jump slightly. “Please! I’ll even let you use Pikachu!”  

   

Tomoki groaned, rubbing his temples. “Fine. But if you start whining when I destroy you, I’m kicking you out.”  

   

Tomoko’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Victory is mine! Take that, Sakaki-sensei!  

   

---  

   

Meanwhile, across town in a cozy little apartment, Sakaki—Tomoko’s vision of grace and composure—was anything but. She sat on her couch in an oversized T-shirt and sweatpants; a tub of ice cream balanced precariously on her lap. The TV flickered, playing a cheesy soap opera where an overly dramatic couple argued in the rain.  

   

“Oh, come on, Maria,” Sakaki muttered through a mouthful of ice cream. “You know Ricardo loves you. It was his evil twin Sergio who broke up with you.”  

   

Her cat, Maya, yawned lazily from her spot next to Sakaki, stretching out her paws and curling up again. Sakaki reached over to scratch her ears absentmindedly, her eyes never leaving the screen.  

   

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table, and she reluctantly put down her spoon to check it. It was a text from Yomi.  

   

Yomi : Are you eating ice cream and watching bad TV again?  

   

Sakaki : No! I’m grading papers as a matter of fact!  

   

Yomi : Uh-huh. Grading. You’re watching Love’s Edge again, aren’t you?  

   

Sakaki hesitated, her eyes glancing at the TV before responding.   

   

Sakaki : Nooooooooo.  

   

Yomi : Go to bed Sakaki.  

   

Sakaki stared at the text, her brow furrowing. “How does she do that?” she muttered. “It’s not even that much. And this show isn’t that bad…”  

   

Maya meowed as if she was agreeing with Yomi. Sakaki stuck her tongue out at the cat.  

   

“Traitor.” She muttered as Maya jumped off the couch.   

   

---  

   

Back at the Kuroki household, Tomoko was hunched over her controller, her face twisted in concentration. “Take that, you little brat!” she shouted as she sent Tomoki’s Pikachu flying off the screen.  

   

“Calm down, it’s just a game,” Tomoki said, rolling his eyes as he effortlessly KO’d her character in retaliation.  

   

Tomoko growled. Why is he so good at this? He’s supposed to be the inferior sibling!  

   

They played match after match, Tomoko’s desperation for victory growing with each loss. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Tomoki put down his controller. “I’m done. Go to bed.”  

   

“What? No! One more match!” She pleaded.  

   

“Nope.” Tomoki grabbed his phone and slid under the covers, effectively ending the discussion.  

   

Tomoko stomped back to her room, fuming. Fine. Whatever. I didn’t need him anyway.  

   

She flopped onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. The clock now read 11:47 .  

   

Well, at least I made it almost two hours without the internet. That’s basically a miracle. She reached for her phone, then hesitated, hearing Sakaki’s imaginary voice again.  

   

“Kuroki-san, we agreed on no screens.”  

   

Tomoko groaned, throwing a pillow over her face. “Why is she living rent-free in my head?!”  

   

A familiar bang came from the other side of her wall. “Shut the hell up!” Shouted an annoyed Tomoki.  

   

After a little bit of gaming on her PSP, she eventually drifted off to sleep... at around 3:47 .  

Chapter 11: Day 9

Tomoko was a disaster. Her eyes were bloodshot, her hair looked like she’d just lost a wrestling match with a hairdryer, and her skin had the pale sheen of someone who had seriously overestimated their stamina. She dragged herself into class, slumped into her seat, and immediately regretted all her life choices.  

   

Why didn’t I just go to bed? she thought as her head hit the desk. Why did I need to find out if Chargeman Ken could beat up Goku? It wasn’t even a good thread...     

   

By the time English class rolled around, Tomoko was practically in a fugue state. Words swam on the page, her teacher’s voice blurred into white noise, and her eyelids began to droop. Slowly, mercifully, sleep started to take her.  

   

And then it happened.  

   

The door opened, and in walked Sakaki, her usual serene expression betraying no sign of malice. She strolled to the front of the room, picked up a piece of chalk, and began signing her name on the board.  

   

“Good morning, everyone. I’ll be substituting for your English teacher this week,” she announced, her voice calm and professional.  

   

Tomoko’s stomach plummeted as if she’d just dropped into a bottomless pit. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no. This is a nightmare. I’m still asleep, right? Someone pinch me. KILL ME.    

   

Sakaki turned to face the class, her gaze sweeping the room. “Let’s start by reviewing what you’ve been working on. Does anyone remember where your teacher left off?”    

   

A deadly silence fell over the classroom. No one moved. Tomoko’s classmates were either too terrified or too apathetic to answer.  

   

Sakaki’s eyes scanned the room, finally landing on her. “Kuroki-san.”    

   

Tomoko’s soul left her body. She felt every eye in the room turn to her as her heart slammed against her ribcage. WHY ME? I’m literally asleep with my eyes open! This is a cruel and unusual punishment!    

   

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her brain, already running on fumes, was now completely fried. All she could manage was a strangled, “Uh... uhh...”    

   

Sakaki tilted her head slightly, her serene smile unwavering. “Kuroki-san? Do you know where we left off?”    

   

Tomoko’s mind was a chaotic mess. Think, Tomoko! Say something smart! Or just fake a coughing fit! ANYTHING!    

   

“Uh... verbs?” she blurted out.  

   

Sakaki blinked. “Verbs?”    

   

Tomoko nodded furiously. “Yeah! Like... um... running... and sleeping... and...” Her voice trailed off as she realized she was digging her own grave.  

   

Sakaki raised an eyebrow. “Interesting. Because your teacher’s notes say you were studying Shakespearean sonnets.”    

   

The class burst into laughter, and Tomoko wanted to crawl under her desk and disappear forever. Shakespeare? Why didn’t I just guess something fancy like ‘metaphors? I’m such an idiot!     

   

Sakaki’s expression didn’t change, but Tomoko could swear she detected a hint of amusement in her eyes. “Thank you, Kuroki-san. Let’s open our books to Sonnet 18.”    

   

Tomoko slumped in her seat, her face buried in her hands. This is it. My life is over. I’m officially the class clown, and Sakaki-sensei thinks I’m illiterate. Goodbye, dignity. I hardly knew ye.    

   

From the back of the class, a whisper reached her ears. “Nice one, Kuroki. Verbs?”    

   

Tomoko’s eyes snapped at her neighbor, who was grinning like an idiot. She shot him a death glare. If I don’t survive this, you’re going down with me, punk.    

   

As Sakaki began to read the sonnet aloud, Tomoko tried to focus, but her mind kept drifting back to the previous night. I should’ve just listened to her stupid no-internet rule. I could be well-rested and charming right now instead of a meme come to life.    

   

By the time class ended, Tomoko was practically vibrating with embarrassment. Sakaki dismissed the students with her usual calm demeanor but stopped her at the door.  

   

“Kuroki-san,” she said gently. “Try to get some sleep tonight. And I’ll see you in my office for our daily session.”    

   

Tomoko nodded weakly, her face a bright shade of red. Sure, Sakaki-sensei. I’ll get right on that... right after I delete my entire existence.  

   

---  

   

Tomoko sat slumped in her chair, her head propped on one hand, trying her best to look engaged as Sakaki droned on about “practical methods for social interaction.” As always, Tomoko’s mind wandered. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to improve her social skills (okay, maybe she didn’t), but the way Sakaki spoke made it sound like she was reading out of a user manual.  

   

But then, a sudden question popped into Tomoko’s head. Without thinking, she blurted it out:    

   

“How can you be a sub-English teacher and a counselor? Isn’t that, like, illegal or something?”    

   

Sakaki stopped mid-sentence. Her usual serene expression faltered ever so slightly, and for a moment, she just blinked at Tomoko as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.  

   

Tomoko fidgeted under Sakaki’s gaze. “I mean... it’s just... you’re a counselor, right? So, why are you suddenly teaching English? That’s, like... two whole jobs.”    

   

Sakaki turned her head toward the wall, where her framed degrees hung neatly in a row. With a calm, almost robotic motion, she raised a finger and pointed to the certificate that read, Bachelor of Arts in Counseling Psychology, Minor in English Literature.  

   

Tomoko squinted at the degree, then turned back to Sakaki. “Wait, you minored in English? Why?”    

   

Sakaki hesitated, her usually calm demeanor cracking ever so slightly. “I was... inspired by my own high school English teacher.”    

   

This piqued Tomoko’s interest. “Oh? What were they like?”    

   

For a moment, Sakaki’s serene mask slipped. Her eyes widened, her pupils dilated, and a thousand-yard stare overtook her face.    

   

Images of Yukari-sensei exploded in her mind like a chaotic fireworks show:    

   

Yukari flipped a desk in the middle of class because someone didn’t know the difference between there and their.  

   

Yukari stole a student’s bike because her bike chain broke.  

    

Yukari’s birthday, when she attempted to show off a designer bag the class got her to Nyamo.  

    

The infamous vacation where Yukari’s driving was so bad, it gave Chiyo-Chan PTSD.    

   

Sakaki blinked, snapping herself out of the flashbacks. She realized Tomoko was staring at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.  

   

“She was... passionate,” Sakaki said carefully, her voice unusually tight.  

   

Tomoko tilted her head. “Passionate? Like... she really loved teaching English?”    

   

“Something like that,” Sakaki replied, her tone neutral but her eyes betraying a flicker of fear.  

   

Tomoko pressed on. “So, did she, like, do anything cool that inspired you?”    

   

Sakaki thought about Yukari’s “cool” moments, which mostly involved slamming chalk against the board to emphasize important points and screaming, “HOW ARE YOU THIS DUMB?!” at students who couldn’t conjugate verbs.  

   

“She was... memorable,” Sakaki said diplomatically.  

   

Tomoko leaned back in her chair, unimpressed. “Sounds boring. You should’ve just said she was hot or something. That would’ve made more sense.”    

   

Sakaki’s right eye twitched. “Kuroki-san, please focus.”    

   

Tomoko shrugged. “I mean, I guess it’s cool you minored in English, but it’s kind of weird you wanted to follow in the footsteps of someone who sounds, like, super lame.”    

   

For a split second, Sakaki’s serene mask almost shattered. But instead of snapping, she took a deep breath and placed her hands on the table, steepling her fingers in a gesture of practiced patience.  

   

“Let’s get back to discussing your social interaction techniques,” Sakaki said, her voice just a touch too calm.  

   

Tomoko sighed dramatically. “Fine, but for the record, I think you should’ve majored in something cooler."   

   

Sakaki allowed herself a tiny smile. “I’ll keep that in mind for my next career path.”    

   

Meanwhile, deep in her mind, she made a silent vow never to let Tomoko learn the full extent of Yukari-sensei’s “influence.” Some truths were just too terrifying to share.  

Chapter 12: Mall Madness

Sakaki awoke to the incessant, frantic buzzing of her flip phone vibrating on her nightstand like it was trying to make a break for it. She groggily opened one eye, squinting at the ancient device.    

   

The caller ID simply read: KUROKI TOMOKO.  

   

With a groan, she flipped the phone open, expecting a call, only to be greeted by a barrage of text messages that were still coming in.  

   

"Hey Sakaki-sensei, let's go to the mall!"   

"You there? We should totally go!"    

"I need to do something social, but my mom said I have to go with someone responsible."    

"I promise not to be weird (maybe)."    

"U there??"    

"HELLOOOOOOOOOO"     

   

Sakaki sighed, sitting up and rubbing her temples. Why was she the chosen one? Surely Tomoko had someone else her age she could hang out with. Yuu? Her brother? Surely there was at least one other person. Her mind briefly scanned the rolodex of the other students she counseled, like Yuri Tamura, a girl who spent more time angrily muttering about her classmates than forming actual friendships. But pairing her with Tomoko would probably result in some sort of atom bomb going off.  

   

“Alright, alright,” Sakaki muttered, typing out a quick reply with the clunky keypad. "Fine. Meet you there at 11."    

   

Sakaki arrived at the mall and barely had time to adjust her scarf before Tomoko appeared out of nowhere, grabbing her arm and practically dragging her inside.  

   

“Come on, come on!” Tomoko urged, her voice jittery with excitement.  

   

“Where are we going?” Sakaki asked, still trying to orient herself.  

   

“The phone store,” Tomoko said with the kind of determination usually reserved for storming castles.  

   

“The... phone store?” Sakaki echoed, confused.  

   

“Yeah, because, like, you carry around that ancient relic. ” Tomoko pointed dramatically at Sakaki’s flip phone, which peeked out of her bag. “It’s practically a fossil. You need to upgrade before it gets put in a museum.”    

   

Sakaki frowned. “I don’t think—”    

   

“Nope!” Tomoko interrupted, tugging her harder. “This is for your own good. Trust me!”  

   

The process of getting Sakaki to pick a phone was akin to watching a toddler choose their first Halloween costume—equal parts endearing and exasperating.  

   

“What about this one?” Tomoko asked, holding up a sleek smartphone with more cameras on the back than Sakaki had friends.  

   

“Why does it have so many lenses?” Sakaki asked, staring at it like it might bite her.  

   

“So, you can take selfies, duh!” Tomoko replied, already imagining Sakaki’s serene, unbothered face going viral.  

   

“I don’t take selfies.”    

   

“Not yet you don’t,” Tomoko said with a mischievous grin.  

   

After an hour of painstaking deliberation (most of which involved Sakaki asking if she could just keep her flip phone), she finally chose a modest smartphone that still felt like a luxury spaceship compared to her old device.  

   

Sakaki’s soul visibly left her body when she saw the price tag.  

   

“Do... Do I need to take out a loan for this? This costs more than my salary.” she muttered.  

   

“Welcome to the 21st century,” Tomoko said, patting her arm reassuringly. Sakaki physically winced as she handed the cashier her credit card.  

   

Afterward, they sat at some tables in a rest area, where Tomoko tried to teach Sakaki how to use her new phone. It was... a process.  

   

“This button opens your messages,” Tomoko said.  

   

“Why do I need buttons for messages? My old phone just had one.”    

   

“Because this one does more than send texts, grandma.”    

   

Sakaki frowned but dutifully tapped the screen. It opened the camera instead.  

   

“No, no, that’s the camera!” Tomoko exclaimed. “Okay, let’s try again. This is the home screen—wait, stop swiping left!”    

   

“I thought you said I needed to swipe left?”    

   

“Only if you’re on a dating app!”    

   

Sakaki froze. “Why would I be on a dating app?”    

   

Tomoko opened her mouth, then closed it, deciding this was not the time to suggest that Sakaki “put herself out there.”    

   

As they were walking to another store, they ran into someone Sakaki really wasn’t prepared to see: Tomo Takino.  

   

“Well, if it isn’t Sakaki!” Tomo exclaimed, bounding over with the same chaotic energy she’d had since high school. She was pushing a stroller with one hand, her newborn daughter nestled inside, while her husband trailed behind her with the tired expression of a man who had accepted his fate long ago.  

   

Sakaki froze, her serene facade crumbling at the edges.  

   

Tomoko peered into the stroller, looking up to Tomo silently.  

   

“Yup! Isn’t she cute?” Tomo grinned proudly. “Her name’s Yuki!”    

   

“That’s... adorable,” Sakaki said, her voice a little strained.  

   

Tomo suddenly turned her attention to Tomoko. “And who’s this? A friend of yours, Sakaki? She looks kind of... stressed out. Are you stressed out? You should smile more! Smiling solves everything!”    

   

Tomoko’s face went red as she tried to come up with a coherent response. She wasn’t used to this level of extreme friendliness.  

   

“She’s one of my students,” Sakaki interjected quickly, placing a hand on Tomoko’s shoulder before she could implode. “This is Kuroki-san.”    

   

Tomo gasped. “No way! You must be so lucky to have Sakaki-sensei as your teacher! She was, like, the coolest back in high school!”    

   

Tomoko side-eyed Sakaki. Cool? Really? Lady, if you saw her two seconds ago, she looked like a chimp using a typewriter.  

   

“See? Even my friends say I’m cool.” Sakaki said with a small smirk, recovering her composure.  

   

Tomoko rolled her eyes, Yeah, but they’re your friends… She thought.  

   

As Tomo continued chatting, Sakaki smiled and nodded, but internally, she was screaming. Her peaceful weekend had turned into a chaotic reunion with her past, complete with reminders of just how far behind her old classmates she really was.  

   

After parting ways with Tomo and her family, Sakaki and Tomoko made their way to the food court. Sakaki ordered a simple coffee while Tomoko returned with an alarming number of snacks—everything from pretzels to bubble tea to a questionable green smoothie she claimed was for “health reasons.”    

   

Settling at a table, Tomoko pulled out her own phone. “Alright, let’s get back to basics, sensei. You’ve got the device; now let’s make you cool. ”    

   

Sakaki sighed, taking a sip of her coffee. “I don’t need to be ‘cool.’ I just need to know how to answer calls and check emails.”    

   

“Pfft, you sound like my mom,” Tomoko said, rolling her eyes. She held up her phone dramatically. “Phones are more than just tools for communication—they’re a gateway to the social world!”     

   

Sakaki raised an eyebrow. “Are you... social?”    

   

Tomoko paused, mid-bubble tea sip, before mumbling, “I’m getting better, okay? I’m here with you, aren’t I?”    

   

Sakaki gave her a small, apologetic smile. “Fair enough.”    

   

Tomoko launched into another tutorial. “Okay, so this is how you download apps. And this is where you check your notifications. Oh! And you can even use it for dating apps!”    

   

Sakaki nearly choked on her coffee. “Why does everything lead back to dating apps with you?”    

   

“Well, someone has to look out for you,” Tomoko said, smirking. “You’re a little, uh... socially behind.”    

   

Sakaki frowned. “I’m fine. I don’t need a dating app.”    

   

Tomoko leaned back, arms crossed. “Oh, really? Because I distinctly remember a certain drunken meltdown during girls' night.”    

   

Sakaki froze, her face flushing. “What?”    

   

“You know,” Tomoko said, her tone almost sing-song. “You cried for twenty minutes about how all your friends are married, and all you have is a cat.”    

   

Sakaki groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I knew that cocktail was a bad idea…”    

   

Tomoko ignored her and continued, now mimicking Sakaki’s voice in an overly dramatic tone. “‘Oh, Osaka, how I wish I could have a family like you!’ ‘Oh Yomi, does your husband have a brother? If so, is he single?’”    

   

“I did not say that” Sakaki protested, but her cheeks were practically glowing.  

   

Tomoko grinned. “Oh, you totally did. And then you cried about how you were doomed to be alone forever.”    

   

Sakaki sighed deeply, her head hitting the table. “Please kill me...”    

   

Tomoko patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sensei. I’ve got your back. With my social expertise and your... uh... height? Hair? Perfect skin? Whatever, we’ll have you mingling in no time!”    

   

“I don’t think ‘height’ and ‘perfect skin’ are personality traits,” Sakaki muttered.  

   

Tomoko ignored her. “You don’t exactly have a lot to work with, Sensei. Anyway, the first step is setting up a profile. You need a cool username. Something mysterious but approachable, like ‘CatWhisperer34.’”    

   

“Why does it have to involve my age?”    

   

“People will think it's just a rando number.”    

   

Sakaki sighed, sipping her coffee again. “I’ll think about it.”    

   

Tomoko smirked knowingly. “That’s what they all say. And then, boom, wedding bells.”    

   

Sakaki snorted. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”    

   

“Maybe,” Tomoko said, shrugging. “But when you and some super-hot guys are exchanging wedding vows, I expect to be your maid of honor.”    

   

Sakaki shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips despite herself. “Let’s just focus on me figuring out how to text, okay?”    

   

Tomoko grinned. “Alright, alright. But don’t think I’m letting this go, Sensei. The world will soon be ready for Sakaki the Socialite. ”    

   

Sakaki chuckled softly, deciding that, as exhausting as Tomoko could be when she was comfortable with someone, her energy wasn’t the worst thing to have around.  

Chapter 13: Day 10

Tomoko stood in the hallway, her whole-body trembling as sweat dripped from every pore. The hallway buzzed with activity, students mingling and walking about. The shy girl gulped down her impending regret as she eyed her target in the stairwell: Yuri Tamura.   

  

"You got this, Kuroki-san. Start small. Just go up and say hi. It is as simple as that.” Sakaki’s encouraging words echoed in her head like the bells of Notre Dame.    

  

Geez. For a woman who said she was like me in high school, she sure has a funny way of acting like just walking up and talking is easy, Tomoko thought. She remembered their past sessions, how Sakaki would tell her she was just like her: quiet, reserved, a social outcast.   

  

She had five friends. What do I have? Yuu and Tomoki. Two! And Tomoki is my baby brother. He is my friend by default.   

  

She could not put it off forever. Tomoko summoned every ounce of courage she had to say hi, trudging forward as if gravity itself was working against her.   

  

Yuri sat there, menacingly, reading a manga. It looked like a BL manga—the kind Tomoko had seen in the doujin section of her local shop. Boy love stuff! Perfect! We have common ground! But little did she know, their common ground might as well have been No Man’s Land.   

  

Yuri, fully engrossed in her book, glanced up at Tomoko’s stuttering shadow.   

  

“H-H-Hi–” sputtered Tomoko, as if the words were actively fighting against her.   

  

“What,” Yuri deadpanned. Her eyes bored into Tomoko’s very soul, her gaze as cold as the Arctic. The look she gave practically screamed, you have three seconds to remove yourself from my airspace, or your family will be reading your obituary tomorrow.     

  

Tomoko’s fight-or-flight instincts kicked into high gear. Unfortunately, she chose flight, bolting from the scene like a cheetah.   

  

—  

  

In Sakaki’s office, the counselor was busy advising another student.   

  

“I think you should be open and honest. If you like this girl, you should just say how you feel. The worst that can happen is she will say she does not feel the same way,” she said, her voice as melodic as a lullaby.    

  

The boy nodded nervously. “You're right, Sakaki-sensei. If I see Tomoko, I will just tell her how I feel!” he said proudly.    

  

Sakaki’s serene expression faltered. “What was that?”    

  

That was when Tomoko burst in.   

  

“SAKAKI-SENSEI! TALK! NOW!”    

  

The boy jumped from his chair as Sakaki reached out a hand, as though trying to save someone from drowning.   

  

“Tomoko, I–”    

  

“She’ll talk to you later, pal!” Tomoko snapped, practically shoving the boy out the door and slamming it shut. Sakaki sat at her desk, horrified, like she had just watched a man get eaten by a shark.   

  

“Oh, Daisuke-san is definitely going to need more sessions after that,” she muttered.   

  

“Sakaki-sensei! It failed!”    

  

“What failed?” Sakaki asked, tilting her head in confusion.   

  

Tomoko began pacing in a circle. “I tried following your advice! I walked up to Yuri, said ‘hi’–” She slammed her hands on Sakaki’s desk, making the counselor jump slightly. “I barely escaped with my life!”    

  

Sakaki gently scooted Tomoko’s hands off her desk. “I doubt she was that bad,” she said, though her thoughts betrayed her words. Yuri Tamura? Really? Child, I thought we agreed to start small.  

  

“She was! Her glare practically shot lasers into my chest!” Tomoko cried, clutching her chest dramatically. “I could have died!”    

  

After five minutes of calming Tomoko down, Sakaki offered advice she already knew would be ignored. “Listen, lunch period is nearly over. Why don’t you head back to class? We will discuss this at length during our session after school.”    

  

Tomoko nodded and quietly left the room.  

  

When the soft click of the door echoed, Sakaki’s phone buzzed. She had recently downloaded Instagram at Tomoko’s insistence.  

  

Three new follow notifications:    

  

@TomotheGoat    

@Yomizilla84     

@OsakaAndagii     

  

Tomo, Yomi, and Osaka had found her newly created Instagram account, @SakakiCatMom, and were roasting her only post: a slightly off-kilter selfie in her office.  

  

@TomotheGoat: Whoa! Sakaki finally enters the 21st century? I must be dreaming! You know, for someone who works with teens, one of them could teach you how to take a proper selfie!  

  

@OsakaAndagii: Girl, I even know how tuh take a selfie.  

  

@Yomizilla84: A selfie? I thought you’d post 800 pictures of Maya. And “CatMom”? Really?   

  

Sakaki stared deadpan at the replies.  

  

“I hate technology,” she grumbled, setting her phone down.  

Notes:

The idea of turning Sakaki into a fossil who doesn't understand technology I based slightly on myself. Plus, it adds a dual sense of "socializing" with Sakaki helping Tomoko being more personally social. Tomoko attempts to help Sakaki become more Internet social. Plus I thought it was really funny that out of all six girls, Sakaki would be the only one still clinging to a flip phone and using zero social media.

This will be relevant in the next chapter. Sakaki is 34 in this story, going off of the Azumanga wiki listing her as being born in 1984. Tomoko is 15, and to keep in continuity, she was born in 2003. Want a date for this story? February 24, 2003. Thus, this story takes place in 2018. And I checked, TikTok existed in 2018. Just in case you were wondering when this story takes place. Also I don't care people fanonly believe she was born in 1997. Eat my ass if you disagree.

Chapter 14: Day 11

Tomoko entered Sakaki’s office with the slyest grin she could muster. Sakaki, who was finally mastering Windows 10, glanced up from her desk.    

    

“Kuroki-san? What are you doing here?” she asked, checking her desk calendar. “You’re not scheduled for a session today.”     

    

She felt a bit unsettled as Tomoko started giggling like an unhinged gremlin.    

    

“Check your phone.”     

    

Sakaki hesitated, feeling like she had been dropped into a horror movie. She picked up her smartphone cautiously. “Why?”     

    

“Just do it.”     

    

Reluctantly, Sakaki unlocked her phone with the apprehension of an animal sensing a trap. There was an Instagram notification waiting for her, and it made her stomach plummet.    

    

1 new follower.    

@GremlinTomoko18      

    

Sakaki’s eyes widened in horror. “Kuroki-san—”     

    

“That’s not all, Sakaki-sensei.”     

    

A ping followed. A comment had appeared on her most recent selfie.    

    

@GremlinTomoko18: Mid.     

    

Tomoko burst into unhinged laughter while Sakaki just stared at her, dumbfounded.    

    

“You are unhinged, Kuroki-san. You know that?”     

    

“That’s what my brother says,” Tomoko replied in a sing-song tone as she turned to leave.    

    

“Wait—Kuroki-san… What does… ‘Mid’ mean?”     

    

Tomoko froze, staring at Sakaki like she was witnessing a trainwreck. Is this lady for real? She works with teenagers—me, specifically—and she DOESN’T know what ‘mid’ means? I know she is a fossil but come on!    

    

After a painfully awkward explanation of ‘mid,’ which was far more difficult than it should have been, Sakaki still did not get it.    

    

“Why not just say ‘mediocre’?” she asked, genuinely baffled.    

    

Tomoko groaned in frustration and tried to explain ‘rizz’ next but quickly gave up. Slamming her hands down on the desk, she declared, “Alright, listen up, your old fossil—”     

    

“‘Old fossil’? Kuroki-san, I am thirty-four.”     

    

“And I am not the only one who needs help socializing. You clearly need help understanding social media.”     

    

“Didn’t you cry for an hour after your first—and only—livestream?”     

    

“NOT THE POINT!” Tomoko shouted defensively. “I bet you don’t even use Facebook.”     

    

“I don’t use Facebook.”     

    

“Seriously?! Even my grandma uses Facebook!”     

    

Sakaki sighed. “Kuroki-san, I never felt the need for social media. My old phone could make calls and send texts—that is all I needed.”     

    

Tomoko was stunned. She could not believe what she was hearing. All her friends are on Insta. How did she survive this long?!      

    

Her thoughts were interrupted by a ping from Sakaki’s phone.    

    

“Tomo-san tagged me in something…” Sakaki groaned. “What does ‘hashtag TBT’ mean? And why did she have to find THAT picture?”     

    

Curiosity piqued, Tomoko pulled up Instagram and scrolled to Tomo’s post. It was a picture of Tomo holding an old Polaroid from a theme park visit. Tomo was mugging for the camera while Sakaki was hunched over a garbage can.    

    

“That means ‘Throwback Thursday,’” Tomoko explained, smirking. “Tomo-san’s posting this picture from, like, the Neolithic period.”     

    

Sakaki shot her a deadpan glare. “Very funny. That was taken after graduation,” she muttered, her cheeks reddening. “I got sick on the Tilt-A-Whirl.”     

    

“Sakaki-sensei, I know you are old, but these are modern times. You must go with it. I know technology was new when you were a teen—”     

    

“Kuroki-san, you were born in 2003. Stop acting like I’m a dinosaur.”     

    

Tomoko waved her off, pretending not to hear. “Listen up, Sakaki-sensei. I have been making great strides in being social! I talked to Yuri-Chan today and didn’t want to vomit my guts through my nose—all thanks to you.”     

    

Sakaki felt a faint blush creep across her face. “Oh… well, Kuroki-san, you flatter me.”     

    

“That’s why I want to help you!”     

    

“Wha—?” Sakaki blinked in confusion.    

    

“You help me be social, so now I want to return the favor and help you learn technology!” Tomoko’s tone was genuine, her energy earnest. It was vastly different from how she had been in their first session.    

    

Sakaki smiled softly and gave her a nod. “Alright, Kuroki-san. I accept your help.”     

    

Tomoko left the office with a spring in her step.    

    

Sakaki sat back at her desk, picking up a framed picture of her friends from the amusement park after graduation. She felt a small smile tug at her lips as memories surfaced—the stoic girl in the back of the class, the one everyone was afraid to approach. The girl with bandaged hands, desperately wishing to open up. Her eyes lingered on the smallest figure in the photo.     

    

And it was thanks to Chiyo-Chan for never giving up on me.     

    

Setting the picture down, she glanced at her phone again, reopening Tomo’s Instagram post.    

    

@SakakiCatMom: Mid 😹   

    

She smirked. “Who is the ‘old fossil’ now, Kuroki-san?”  

Notes:

As said in the last chapter. I'm playing with canon of both franchises. Also it's a fanfic, don't think too hard about it.

Chapter 15: Day 12

Tomoko was sitting in utter boredom. Sakaki was droning on and on about different methods of social interaction.   

  

Ugh… Can she get this over with already? I get it, I’m a loser. Stop pretending and just get to the part where you tell me I will die alone.   

  

Despite Tomoko’s inner dialogue, Sakaki kept talking. Much to her chagrin. “And so, I feel it’s best to try again. Yuri might’ve been hard to approach before, but if you try again, she might open up more. You just must know when to keep pushing.” It was solid advice, but Tomoko was barely retaining any of it. The bell rang, and Tomoko’s heart sank.  

  

See, sometimes Tomoko had her sessions after school. Other days, like today, she had them just before Gym class. And the new gym teacher wasn’t fond of her being late. Tomoko’s eyes widened and then flung herself onto Sakaki’s desk. “Sakaki-Sensei! Can you write me an absence note?!”  

Sakaki tilted her head. “Huh? Why?”  

  

Tomoko went to open her mouth, but it was too late. The door was practically kicked open. The new Gym teacher’s presence sent a wave of dread into Tomoko’s body. A loud whistle went off as both Tomoko and Sakaki covered their ears. Standing in the doorway was someone Sakaki never thought she’d see at this school. Dressed in gym sweats, like Nyamo-sensei, was the tomboy herself; Kagura. She held a basketball under her left arm and had a scowl on her face. “Kuroki-San. GET YOUR BUTT TO THE GYM!”  

  

Tomoko squealed as she bolted down the hall. Kagura barked orders as the girl ran. When Tomoko was out of sight, Kagura turned to Sakaki with a smile. Her mood changed almost instantly. “Hey, Sakaki. Long time no see.”  

  

Sakaki stared deadpan at Kagura. “Did you have to frighten her half to death? Poor girl has enough trouble as is.”  

  

Kagura waved her friend off. “Stop being so buttery to these brats. I was hard on Chiyo-Chan and look how she turned out!” Before Sakaki could rebuttal, Kagura slammed her hands on her desk. “Hey! How about a race to the gym? C’mon! You and me! The winner buys coffee during lunch!”  

  

Sakaki let out a faint sigh. She hasn’t changed a single bit, has she? Sakaki thought. It was true. Even in her 30s, Kagura was just as competitive as ever. “I would say I’m shocked you were hired as the new gym teacher after Ogino-sensei transferred to the third-year class. Except you cluttered the group chat with your excitement the night before.” 

Kagura just gave her a huge grin. “Well, yeah? How could I not be! Plus, I get to work with my bestie!” She still had the same boundless energy. Sakaki couldn’t help but smile.  

“Not race, but I don’t have another session until after lunch, so I could sit in on your class with you.”  

“Sweet! Aaaaand… 3, 2, 1, GO!” She said before bolting out of the door.  

Sakaki gave a defeated sigh. “How does Masaaki put up with her?”  

  

—  

  

Gym class was as usual. Well, for Kagura it was. She was barking orders at the students and yelling to run faster. Sakaki paid attention to Tomoko. Unfortunately for both, so did Kagura. The whistle blared. “Move it Kuroki-San! I wanna see those legs move! Chop chop missy!”  

“Kagura, how are things with Masaaki?” asked Sakaki as she took a sip from her thermos.  

  

“Specs? Great! We visited his parents last month. He got a promotion at work two months ago. And he got me flow- MOVE THOSE LEGS TAMURA! Flowers for our anniversary.” Sakaki smiled as Kagura went on.  

  

“I won’t lie; I was a little shocked when I heard you were taking over the second-year class.” Sakaki hummed.  

  

Kagura blew her whistle. “TANAKA, I SWEAR IF YOU DON’T MOVE THOSE LEGS! Why’s that?” All Sakaki did was chuckle as her friend swapped between Kagura and gym teacher.  

  

Out with the students, many huffed as they ran, Tomoko running slowly by Yuri. “This new gym teacher bites… She’s harder on us than Ogino-sensei was…”   

  

Yuri looked over to Tomoko. “Huh?”   

  

Tomoko stuttered. “I– well– Uh…”  

  

“You’re weird.” Yuri ordered. 

“Eeeeeehhhhh–” Tomoko replied meekly before falling back behind Yuri. Yuri raised a very confused eyebrow.  

 

Another flurry of whistles blew, and the girls and boys all lined up. Kagura wheeling out a kart full of kick balls. “Alright you brats. Team up in groups of two and pass the ball to each other.” She tossed out a few balls before grabbing one for herself. “Now, before any of you decide to play hard ball, let me demonstrate with Sakaki-Sensei.” She tossed the ball gently to Sakaki. Sakaki happily tossed the ball back to Kagura. “See? Like that. None of this.” Kagura then tossed the ball directly into Sakaki’s stomach. The toss was so hard, she felt that her future descendants would feel the pain. She dropped the ball and collapsed to the ground clutching her stomach. “You good, Sakaki?” 

 

Sakaki only managed a weak, trembling thumbs up. 

 

From a distance, Tomoko watched as Kagura helped Sakaki up. Gulping nervously, she looked at her partner. Yuri Tamura. For the most part the two got along well. About as well as two fellow students not saying a word to each other can get along.  

 

C’mon Tomoko! Think! Yuri reads Boy Love. You read Boy Love! Ask about her favorite series! Or her favorite character! … No, don't do any of that. She’ll think you’re creepy.  

 

“Are you just gonna stare at me all period?” Yuri’s voice snapped Tomoko out of her mental spiral.  

 

“Huh?” 

 

“You’ve been staring at me the whole time. What’s the deal?” 

 

Hello. You’ve reached the inner thoughts of Tomoko Kuroki. This number is unavailable right now. We’re sorry for the inconvenience. Please try again later.  

 

Yuri scowled at Tomoko just staring and not saying anything. She tossed the ball extra hard into Tomoko’s chest. Getting a hard squeak out of the introvert. Noticing the altercation, Sakaki managed her best to step in. “Yuri-Chan. It’s not polite to toss balls at your fellow–” 

 

“Cram it, Azuma. We’re not in your office.” Yuri spat before walking away.  

 

Tomoko looked at Sakaki weakly, while Kagura watched Yuri take a seat at the bleachers. “What crawled in her butt and died?” Sakaki shot Kagura with a glare that would rival Yukari’s own. “What?” 

 

— 

 

The golden rays of the setting sun lit the calming ambience of the hallway outside Sakaki’s office. Tomoko sat in one of the chairs. Her head firmly on her knees.  

 

Maybe I’m not cut out for friends. Yuri was my only shot.  

 

The door opened as Sakaki was preparing to head home. Stopping only when she saw Tomoko huddled at her door. “Kuroki-San? Is everything okay?”  

 

“Can we talk in your office?” Sakaki nodded and let Tomoko in.  

 

She sat in her usual chair. Directly across from Sakaki. She gripped the hem of her skirt. Her, not racing, but contemplating how to word what she was going to say. “Kuroki-San if something is wrong. You can tell me.” 

 

“I think we should end our sessions.” 

 

“Huh?” 

 

Tomoko looked up, staring directly at the counselor. “I think we should end our sessions.” 

 

“Kuroki-San, we’ve been making great strides. You’ve been making a great deal of progress. Why stop now?” Tomoko hung her head low. Her hands are almost white knuckling her skirt. “Kuroki-San, talk to me.” 

 

“BECAUSE I’M NOT MAKING PROGRESS!” 

 

Tomoko’s sudden outburst shocked the older woman. She knew Tomoko could get emotional, but that outburst was out of character, even for her. She didn’t poke, nor prod. She merely wanted to know. “Why do you think that is?” 

 

“Because I’ve been going to these sessions for over two weeks and all I’ve learned how to do is piss off Yuri! Sakaki-Sensei, I’m not you! I don’t have a group of amazing friends! I’m not close to anyone! The only people I’m close to are my old middle school friend and my own damn little brother!” She slammed her hands down on the desk. Leaning forward. “Can’t you see it?! I’m a total loser! I’m an unfixable mess! No amount of sleep schedules, or planners, or tea, or any other garbage you try will work!” Tears began streaming down her face as it grew a shade of crimson. “Nothing will work because I’m destined to live alone and die alone!” A quick glance showed that Tomoko was indeed white knuckling her desk. Sakaki was a trained professional. She was trained to handle students with irritations, different social cues, even the odd parent who wasn’t happy with her techniques. But this? This was a full-blown mental breakdown. Sakaki sat back for a moment as Tomoko huffed. “Well?! Say something! Give me more of your canned NPC junk! None of it will work!”  

 

Sakaki got up and walked around to Tomoko. Before she could make a remark, Sakaki pulled her into a close hug. Slowly, and hesitantly, Tomoko let her arms around Sakaki. The sounds of huffing and crying filled Sakaki’s ears. She thought back to the many different techniques she would ask Tomoko to do but never stopped to consider what would work best for her. 

 

After a while, Tomoko calmed down. Sakaki wiped that last tear from her baggy eyes. “Kuroki-San, do you still have that notebook I gave you?” She gave a weak nod. “When you go home, I want you to write down everything you can. All your interests and hobbies. Everything. Okay?” Tomoko nodded weakly. “Good, because tomorrow morning I want you to turn it in. I’ll read it over the weekend, and then we’ll go from there.” She pulled Tomoko into one more hug. “I believe in you Tomoko.” The sudden utterance of her name put a padding of reassurance into Tomoko. 

 

She was finally beginning to accept Sakaki’s help.