I’m My Own High School Rival: Nakamura’s Arc: Heritage

  Walking through the cafeteria, the chattering students returned unpleasant memories of isotion. Abby didn’t have lunch with me, and I didn’t have lunch.

  Scanning the room, I couldn’t find a seat to wait out the period; I had no true friends in this school, in this life, other than Abby Abutin. So, I had to take a chance with strangers.

  Rejection wasn’t exclusive to retionships.

  I peered about, looking for a vacant seat, until I found familiar faces amongst the crowd: Antwon and Jenie were sitting together—not talking, because Antwon was too busy making hard shapes with his fingers and blowing kisses at… Sakura.

  I approached them, not expecting warm welcomes or hearty hellos, but Antwon greeted me with a smile before returning his focus. Sakura, however, didn’t seem as pleased.

  She scowled at him, circumvented the table, and sat with her back toward him.

  He cutely pouted in silent objection to her decision.

  Cute? I’d better watch what I think.

  I sat down. Jenie gnced at me and went back to eating white rice, a boiled egg, and spinach; a meal that matched her personality perfectly. Antwon had a more colorful box. It had two pieces of juicy teriyaki chicken thigh over white rice with sesame seeds, one slice of tamagoyaki, a small umeboshi onigiri, a portion of kinpira gobo, a few slices of mentaiko pasta, and a side of diced mango and kiwi for dessert.

  “Antwon,” a familiar voice called out. I know that voice; it’s just as I remembered, Sakura, when I taught her.

  She stood behind me, peering down at him.

  He reached into his bag at his feet and pulled out a second bento box.

  “This is for you—big sis,” he sang while smiling.

  It was a pink box wrapped with a red ribbon. The ribbon was another means for boys to show their affection, symbolizing a profound love for the gifted.

  “No, Antwon,” she said in a stern, almost dismissive voice.

  I didn’t need to see Sakura or her body nguage to understand she wasn’t happy.

  “Stop bringing me lunches, walking me to css, and being weirdly romantic!”

  He fidgeted with the ribbon; his eyes searched for an acceptable response.

  “I-I made it for you, with pieces of my heart, so you could—”

  “I packed my own. Now, stop embarrassing me.”

  His eyes started to water; he was falling to pieces right in front of me—and to someone who once doted on him.

  But why was she acting this way? He had done everything a normal Kokiri boy would do to show affection.

  “Don’t bother me again.”

  “Y-you’re so rude, Sakura.”

  I sometimes forget that he was just a boy; seeing him wounded, betrayed by someone close, made me sad.

  “You know,” I started, “I think he was only trying to be nice.”

  I met her gaze, and regretted it. She was like a beast, unchained, roaring to bite someone, and I stood in her path.

  I turned around, not wanting to hold her attention.

  The Sakura I taught would never look at me like that, but I’m no longer a teacher, and I ck the authority to soften her approach.

  “You’ve got plenty of female friends to be all cutesy with, so leave me alone.”

  Maybe she was right. Maybe he really did have plenty of female friends. Maybe I had just become one of them.

  The hurt he wore turned to rage as he silently scowled at her.

  “You know what, I’m done with this. And walk yourself home, Antwon, because I have baseball tryouts.”

  She walked away from the conversation, from the bento box, from Antwon’s romantic brotherly gesture, leaving him staring in awe of her decision.

  Jenie, who ate her lunch through the engagement, finally looked up after Sakura walked away. However, she didn’t say anything, but Antwon nodded as if agreeing.

  He kept pying with the ribbon like it would make him feel better, or feel anything other than the pain of rejection.

  All day, he’s been desecrating Christina Tetsusen, Crimson High's most feared figure—and now his own sister was sundering him.

  Finally, he slumped over the table, masking his lower face with his arms.

  I went around the table to sit next to him and gently rubbed his back, just as I had done when I was a teacher.

  “Nakamura,” Jenie said. “Where is your lunch?”

  That was the first human thing she’s said to me all day.

  I almost didn’t want to answer because of Antwon’s state.

  I wanted to respond, but my stomach beat me to it. “Well, I didn’t pack one.”

  “Odd. Is it disadvantageous for one to eat meals in the middle of the school day?”

  “Nothing like that, Jenie. My family has… more important things to worry about.”

  “Do they not provide sustenance in the lunch line?”

  “Well, yes. But, you see, I… can’t… afford to eat school lunches.”

  I grew warmer with every word. I hated exposing my impoverished state.

  Antwon lifted his head and took notice of me. His eyes were still watery from his argument with Sakura.

  Examining the pink bento box, he picked it up and then pced it back on the table. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do with it. Biting his bottom lip, he tugged at the ribbon, staring at the back of Sakura.

  My stomach mourned for Antwon’s unrequited love, drawing his attention away from his sister.

  He sighed and then slid the extra bento box toward me; its temptation was alluring, but I couldn’t take it because it was meant for another.

  However, my stomach protested, catching the attention of my tablemates.

  Antwon sat upright, smiled at me, and said, “Just eat it, Nakamura. I’d hate to let my work go to waste.”

  I swallowed bitterness, guilt, and shame, but I would not swallow my pride.

  ***

  He opened the bento box before I could tell him no.

  It was packed with heart-shaped onigiri filled with salmon, sweet tamagoyaki slices rolled with seaweed letters spelling “big sis,” crispy karaage chicken skewered on heart picks, octopus sausages, cherry tomatoes, broccoli florets, and a dessert cup of diced strawberries and kiwi—all wrapped in a pink cloth with a handwritten note tucked beneath the lid.

  He removed the note and sighed. “I won’t be needing this anymore.”

  He held the note close to his face before tearing it in half.

  I’m sorry, or at least, that’s what I wanted to say.

  I looked down at the bento box, never expecting a foreign boy to have adapted so earnestly to our customs.

  Antwon removed an onigiri from the bento box; perhaps that piece meant something special to him.

  “Antwon, I’m sorry about what happened—”

  But he didn’t answer.

  I felt warmth brush up against my side, touching too close.

  He leaned in, holding the onigiri to my mouth. His green eyes gave themselves to me.

  I froze.

  Was he trying to feed me? But this was meant for Sakura.

  “Antwon,” I mumbled, “what are you doing?”

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The scent of the salmon rose to meet me before the rice ever touched my lips.

  “I’m feeding you because you’re too stubborn to feed yourself.”

  This is wrong, Antwon. I’m too old to be fed by you.

  His forearm brushed the outside of my thigh, sliding closer to regret.

  This food wasn’t for me, but… I needed it, not him feeding me, but food.

  I opened my mouth, and he guided the onigiri to my tongue, between my teeth, and into something I wasn’t sure existed anymore.

  The salmon was soft and fky—cooked just right—its warmth melting into the salty, chewy texture of seasoned rice.

  The furikake clung to the seaweed, giving every bite a grainy crunch that tasted more like comfort than food.

  My heart yearned for another bite.

  I swallowed, fueling something I thought had long burned out.

  “Antwon,” I said, nearly breathless.

  “D-did you like it, Nakamura?”

  “Yes, I loved it.” The weight of my words hit me, as did reality.

  I’m not the one he made the bento box for, or maybe I was. No, it can’t.

  The realization that a boy just fed me hit me harder than I expected. I looked around the cafeteria, and not many noticed; however, Sakura did, and she was shocked.

  Why do I feel as if I stepped into the middle of something dangerous?

  “A-Antwon, your sister,”

  She was marching toward us with rage in her eyes. I remember all the fights she got into when I was her teacher. I remember rumors of her monstrous strength, and now I was about to experience them firsthand.

  Jenie stood up. “I’m still hungry. The food I prepared did not satisfy me.

  She turned, facing off with Sakura, who was red-faced and heavy breathing, and warned me to run.

  But something happened. She looked at Jenie, and her rage dissipated, softened.

  Something flickered on Sakura’s face, as if something important suddenly came to mind.

  She turned around and walked away, returning to her seat.

  Was it her deadpan face that subdued her?

  Jenie stood there for a moment before walking to the lunch line.

  “That was weird,” Antwon said. “I thought you were going to die for a moment.”

  He smiled, leading me to believe that he orchestrated this whole thing. Well, I would not stay silent.

  “Antwon, did you set me up!?”

  He paused, pced a finger to his chin, and said, “Nope. I had no idea she would turn around or come over here, but try the crispy karaage.”

  He was still close enough to… I slid away, creating space between us, but he returned with crispy karaage grasped between chopsticks.

  My phone rang, alerting Antwon that I was predisposed. My mom was the only one who called me during school hours.

  “Antwon, wait. My Mom’s calling me.”

  He froze, but his eyes slowly drifted off to the side, looking for something?

  Oh gosh, it was a video call. She probably wanted to show me something silly.

  “Hi, Mom. What can I do for you today?”

  “Tiff, your dad and I can’t decide which one to make for dinner.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  She held two boxes of Ramen as if they made a difference,

  “We’re looking at the sweet and sour or the teriyaki.”

  Jenie returned with more food; she made eye contact with Antwon and shook her head, denying him… something.

  “Mom, I cannot believe you called me at school for this—”

  “Hi, Mom,” Antwon said from over my shoulder.

  I froze mid-terror.

  My mother gasped.

  “D-did he just call me… mom?”

  “Antwon!”

  “Kaito, get over here! Tiffany has a boyfriend!”

  I hung up for dear life. Why did this day exist?

  Antwon had cheered up, giggling and smiling at his mischief, not understanding the gravity of what he had done.

  “Antwon, why did you do that? You can't just call a girl's mom 'Mom.'

  “Just tell them I was joking.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. Now that you’ve opened the floodgates, any denial on my part will be interpreted as shame; They will assume that I’m hiding you.”

  I was hot all over, from being fed, almost getting killed, and now my family thinks there is a guy in my life.

  I cannot go home like this, but what could I…

  “Antwon, you should escort Nakamura home to crify the situation before any more damage is done.”

  For once, her deadpan personality had provided some crity,

  “Shhh, and eat your food,” Antwon whispered to Jenie.

  I turned to him and gently grabbed his hand.

  “Antwon, come home with me.”

  He thought about it for a moment, considering what he had done, unsure if he wanted to accept my invite. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to.

  He smiled in a boyish way, leaned in, and said, “Let’s give it a few more bento boxes first.”

  “Antwon!!”

  “Alright, but you have to walk me home after we’re done.”

  He stood up, returning the bento boxes to his backpack and putting the ribbon in his pocket.

  He was holding on to something neither of us truly had: a connection to something other than family.

  Bento Box Love Song.

  I packed your bento box with pieces of my heart

  Tied it with a ribbon, thought you'd tear it all apart

  But you smiled and said, “So sweet,” like I was just dessert

  Now, every bite you take still leaves me hurt

  You never even looked inside

  Just swallowed every word I tried

  To say—I thought you'd taste the care I made

  But you just chewed through me and walked away

  I gave you everything, but you just kept eating me away

  Took my time, my touch, my color, till I started to decay

  Like seaweed in the sun, I faded every single day

  I gave you everything, but you just kept eating me away

  I poured my voice into your tea, warm and steeped in grace

  Hoped you'd sip it slow, but you drained it without a trace

  You never left a single crumb of who I used to be

  Now all that's left is hunger where my love should be

  You never even said goodbye

  Just wiped your mouth and passed me by

  I served my soul, I served it sweet

  But love’s not love if only one can eat

  I gave you everything, but you just kept eating me away

  Bit by bit, my fvor lost in all your casual py

  You chewed through promises like they were tempura cy

  I gave you everything, but you just kept eating me away

  Your chopsticks never trembled

  Not even when I cried

  You emptied out my heart

  And called it appetite

  I gave you everything, now I’m the empty tray

  Served you love, but now I’m the one who’s thrown away

  But I’m done being bitter, done being prey

  You can starve on silence—I won’t be your meal today

  KnoxCross116