The rest of the morning's classes pass by in a blur. When the lunch bell rings, I'm left surprised by the haste at which the room is emptied. I guess some things about high school never change no matter where you go, and one of them is the lunch rush. And since I'm two steps behind with no lunch of my own, it looks like I'm in for a long wait for a meal.
 
Joy. I lean my head back and sigh.
 
It is at this time that my vision is assaulted by the pink drills I've come to identify Misha by. She stands over me with a grin, and just happens to obscure my vision of anything but her hair and her chest.
 
Good lord, her chest is huge. Suddenly I find myself jealous of Misha. It's not that I'm... inadequate by any means; far from it, I'm actually quite average. But therein lies the problem: boys don't care about average-sized chests, they only seem to talk about the biggest (or for a small percentage which I don't quite understand, the smallest). Being average is a handicap. I bet Misha gets all the boys...
 
My thoughts are broken by the realization that Misha asked me a question. I sit up to get away from looking at her. I feel bad for my jealousy; she's been nothing but kind to me so far.
 
"Sorry, what was that? I kinda zoned out there."
 
"Wahaha~! Tired already, Hicchan? Shame, shame, the day isn't even half over!" Misha teases me with a cheshire grin. At least, I think she's teasing me; that seems to be her default expression.
 
"Shicchan wants you to have lunch with us. She says she can answer any questions a be... bewildered new student may have pertai... i-in regards to..." Misha turns to Hakamichi with a look like a kicked puppy and flashes a few signs, which the president responds to with a blank stare. I don't need to understand sign language to know what she's saying: "Shicchan, I forgot..."
 
After a short discussion between the two, Misha turns to me with her trademark smile. "We'll show you around school and answer your questions, Hicchan! Have lunch with us!"
 
I look at the president, who shrugs nonchalantly. She's my age, but she seems like a businesswoman with her "I don't care either way" expression. It feels like she views me as a responsibility that Mutou pushed onto her.
 
At least Misha seems genuinely friendly. "I'd like that. Thaks, Misha. And, uh, Hakamichi." I'm not sure how to talk to the president, but Misha seems to have me covered. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Hakamichi simply offers me a disarming smile. She must have to deal with this kind of reaction a lot; I'm forced to reconsider my opinion of her.
 
The president's full name is Shizune Hakamichi, as I'd learn from a proper introduction, albeit through Misha, before we made for the cafeteria. While we walked, Misha chattered on ceaselessly to me, half the time translating for Shizune (which Misha had insisted I call her) and pointing out the school's various amenities, the other half having her own non sequiturs, talking about sweets, local attractions, or how cute she thought my old uniform was.
 
Talking with Misha and Shizune required the ability to keep track of three seperate conversations: the one Misha had with you, the one Misha had with Shizune, and the one Misha had with herself.
 
By the time we'd gotten our food and sat down to eat, half the lunch hour was over and my head was realing with the amount of new knowledge that had been crammed inside it, even if most of it was summer fashion tips.
 
"Well, that's the grand tour, Hicchan!" Misha fell into her seat at the lunch table beside Shizune, who I've noticed seems to make up for Misha's clumsy way of stumbling through the world by not making a movement without purpose. "Did you have any other questions for us~?"
 
I'm reminded that I haven't had a book to read since I was in the hospital. I should find out where the library is so I can restock. But then, there's something else I'm curious about...
 
[ ] Ask about the library.
[ ] Ask about Misha's hair colour.
[ ] Nevermind, let's just go for the womanly picnic ending.