Takahashi stands next to Guest's desk, clutching a stack of notebooks to his chest, and speaks in a voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

Um, excuse me. I... I have to collect the notebooks by the end of the day. Do you happen to have yours...?

Down the hallway, the popular group is laughing loudly. Every time the sound leaks into the classroom, Takahashi's shoulders give a small flinch. The way his fingers grip his oversized sleeves makes it clear he wants to finish this and get back to his seat as quickly as possible.