Mouten
"Blind Spot"

Nobody expected Yazawa-sensei to last long. And when it came down to it, nobody really wanted her to. That would've meant that she'd won, and losing was something that class 3-C hated more than anything. But in all actuality, it was me who instigated everything. I was the one it started with, and the one it ended with. And when that time came, I was the one who lost the most.

Yeah, I know. Doesn't make much sense. Let's skip back to the start of the school year.

CHAPTER ONE

I'd just gotten Shige in my line of sight when Keisuke poked me in the back with his pencil.

"Don't, Koala," he said nonchalantly. "He's sleeping."

I sat back in my seat with a sigh, flicking my was-going-to-be spitwad onto the ground. "That was the point," I mumbled, staring at Shige's seemingly lifeless form slumped over his desk in front of me. I turned around to face Keisuke, blowing the bangs from my eyes as I glanced at the clock at the back of the classroom. "Three minutes. . ."

"And counting." Keisuke scribbled on a scrap of paper on his desk. Well, it wasn't so much a scrap of paper as it was the remains of his last history test. "What do you think? Old and set in her way? Or young and breakable?"

Shrugging, I yawned. "Either way, we'll have her run out within a month."

He grinned and looked at me. "It never gets old."

I sat up straighter in my seat and unrolled the sleeves of my shirt. I'd lost the school issued navy blue tie two days before, somewhere between the senior's orientation and the walkthrough of Class 3-C. It didn't matter much anyhow. Ties made me look lanky. Then again, that's how school uniforms were designed; to make everyone look ten pounds lighter than they were. The girls found a way to make things interesting, though. A good portion of them rolled up the waistband of their skirt, thus shortening the length. This was, in my opinion, genius.

Now, Keisuke was my best friend. We'd met at the start of middle school, and we've been friends since. He was the first in our class in high school to dye his hair. It was an ugly platinum blond, he even admitted it himself, but it made him pretty popular with the girls. Probably because it reminded them of Gackt. It's grown out some since then, but you can still see the blond tips. Honestly, though, he kind of looked like a girl. He acted like one sometimes too. Don't get me wrong, he's not even close to being gay. I don't know what the word for it is. Metrosexual? Something like that.

I've always made fun of him for that. Despite how "beautiful" he was, according to the female population of Kawamura Higashi High School, he still hadn't managed to get himself a girlfriend. But who am I to talk? I've never had one either. I'd like to think I've been too busy studying, but I haven't done much of that either.

Okay. So my name isn't Koala. It's Subaru. Ota Subaru, to be exact. Koala came to be a nickname of mine over the years, because firstly, Keisuke and Hayato think it impresses the girls if they can pronounce their Ls, and secondly, and most importantly, all of my friends think I look like one. Can I help it that my nose is kind of big? No. Can I help it that my eyebrows are somewhat thick? I wasn't a girl, so the answer to that was no as well. And, according to Hayato, "then you smile, and your face scrunches up like a koala." That might correlate to the never-had-a-girlfriend subject.

"Five. . . four. . . three. . ." I heard Keisuke count down as all other eyes in the classroom looked towards the doorway. "Two. . . one. . ."

The bell started its four-tone melody, and all murmuring from the surrounding desks immediately halted. Everyone's gaze was fixed on the door as it slid open. And, all in unison, we let out a sigh of aggravation.

"Takeru," Keisuke said sharply, glaring at the guy in the doorway. "Hurry up and sit down. We're waiting for the new sensei."

"Sorry sorry," Takeru said as he bowed, a sheepish grin on his face as he pulled the door shut behind him. He shuffled to his seat in the back row, tossing his school pack under his desk. "My bad."

The tension grew thick again, and the thirty-eight seconds that followed seemed like hours. And, to our surprise, the unfamiliar voice came from the front of the room.

"Good morning, class. I'm Yazawa Sayumi. You can call me Yazawa-sensei. We. . ."

Everything else she'd said had gone in one ear and out the other as soon as I realized what was happening.

The woman standing at the head of the room grinned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Whoever's idea it was to have a cubby in desks was a genius," she said, a smirk coming to her lips. "They're the perfect size for me."

I kicked Shige's legs under my desk, unsure of what else to do. He jerked awake, looking disoriented just as I heard Keisuke stand up behind me.

"So you've been hiding under your desk all this time," he said, sounding not at all impressed, though I knew he was. "Big deal. Let's start class."

"And you are?"

"Shimano Keisuke." He slid his hands into his pockets. "And what are you? Twenty-five?"

"Twenty-eight," she said, dropping her hands. "And you're Class President. Now take roll."

I could nearly here Keisuke's jaw drop. "W-what?" He shifted in his seat. "We haven't even --"

"Take roll," she repeated. She handed someone in the front row a clipboard. "Pass this back to him," she said quietly, turning her attention back to her desk. Shige handed the clipboard to me, and I extended my arm back to Keisuke, who jerked it away, sighing heavily.

"Abukawa Naoki," he mumbled.

"Here."

"Ayano Yuriko."

"Here."

I stretched out my arms in front of me, leaning my head on them as I tried to get a better look at our new teacher. She was looking down, her black hair pulled back with some magical gadget that girls used. She looked a little younger than I had imagined, but claimed to be twenty-eight. Then again, when was the last time a girl actually said she was older than she really was?

"Ota Subaru," Keisuke said, poking my shoulder with his pencil.

"Here." I looked away from Yazawa-sensei and scratched a bee sting on my arm. The wonderful result of having gone raspberry picking with my younger sister the morning before, a Sunday.

It was another minute or so when Keisuke finally finished, checking off absences for two students. It didn't seem like Yazawa-sensei was paying attention, but just as Keisuke moved to hand up the clipboard, she spoke up.

"You'll be adding another name, Shimano," she said, not taking her eyes off of her desk.

Keisuke frowned. "What?"

"Inoue Noriko. She'll be a student of Class 3-C starting today." She looked to him expectantly. "That's Inoue," she repeated. "Ino as in a well and Ue as in top."

I could see Keisuke's grip tighten on his pencil. Kanji was not his strong point.

"I'll do it," I said, gesturing for him to hand me the clipboard. He did, and I filled in the name and handed it up to Shige.

"Nakano," Yazawa-sensei said as she stood.

Takeru rose immediately and bowed deeply. "Yes, sensei?"

"Inoue's waiting in the hall. You can go get her."

He bowed again, then turned to the door. "Yes, Yazawa-sensei."

"Pushover," Keisuke mumbled under his breath as he slouched in his seat.

Takeru disappeared for a moment, then stepped back into the classroom with a girl in tow.

Yazawa-sensei looked up and smiled. "Thank you, Nakano. Inoue, you can come up to the front of the class."

The girl made her way to the other side of the room, keeping her head down all the while.

"Dammit," Keisuke said lowly, then, as if reading my mind, "I can't see her face."

Yazawa-sensei rose from her seat and stood beside the girl. "This is Inoue Noriko." She lay a hand on her shoulder. "She just moved here from Echizen. If any of you make fun of her accent, it's an automatic detention."

I couldn't see Inoue's face completely, but it clearly turned red at the statement. Her hair was still its natural black, and nearly evenly cut bangs fell over her eyes. She bowed lowly, then straightened.

"It's a pleasure to meet y'all," she said quietly. "I'm Inoue Noriko." Met with nothing but silence, she bit her lip, then turned back to Yazawa-sensei.

"You can have a seat behind. . ." The teacher looked at the seating chart on her desk. "There's an empty seat on the right of Hatsunori. Raise your hand please, Hatsunori. . ."

Shige raised his hand dutifully, and Inoue wound her way in between the desks and took her seat diagonally of my own. There were a dozen ways to stereotype her, even without seeing her face. The long winter uniform skirt told me she was conservative. The bangs over her eyes made it pretty obvious she was self-conscious. Her meek introduction proved she was embarrassed about her accent. I sat up in my seat, looking away from her. She'd be teased by Hibari for sure.

"All right, then," Yazawa-sensei began. "Now that everyone's here, let me properly introduce myself." She turned to the blackboard and started writing her name. "My name is Yazawa Sayumi. Everyone in this classroom will call me Yazawa-sensei. Anyone who fails to do so will be receive the proper punishment." She turned back to us. "This isn't my first teaching job," she said pointedly. "And don't think I haven't heard about you guys." A smile came to her lips. "You went through three teachers last year, and five the year before."

"We're shooting for six this year," said Keisuke. "You know, it being our last year and everything. . ."

"Class President," she started, shaking her head. "I wouldn't talk if I were you."

"If you --"

"Just shut up, Keisuke," I mumbled.

Yazawa-sensei looked from Keisuke to me. "That's the most intelligent thing you guys have said so far. What's your name again?"

I brought my gaze up to meet hers. "Ota Subaru."