Golden Time:Volume1 Chapter2: Difference between revisions
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Sitting with his seat tilted back, there was no way he’d be seen, so it was really no big deal. By his right hand was a blue-capped bottle of Ajishio. In his left hand, an egg. Writing with his right hand, he ate with his left. Write. Chomp. Write. Chomp. ...Really, truly, it was no big deal. Speaking of highlights, he’d hurt himself last night while cracking the eggs with a framed picture, something he didn’t like to remember. Distracted by the memory, he ran into the corner of a desk. He flew into the last empty seat, startling the guy next to him. | Sitting with his seat tilted back, there was no way he’d be seen, so it was really no big deal. By his right hand was a blue-capped bottle of Ajishio. In his left hand, an egg. Writing with his right hand, he ate with his left. Write. Chomp. Write. Chomp. ...Really, truly, it was no big deal. Speaking of highlights, he’d hurt himself last night while cracking the eggs with a framed picture, something he didn’t like to remember. Distracted by the memory, he ran into the corner of a desk. He flew into the last empty seat, startling the guy next to him. | ||
Did he bring the boiled eggs? Yep. Did he bring salt too? Yep. And so on. A conversation nearly blossomed, but shortly the guy’s buddy showed up, so Banri turned back quietly to his boiled eggs. | |||
<nowiki><~~ | The girls right behind Banri, so he couldn’t hear them, were typing notes to each other on their cellphone displays. That guy in front of us petrified his eggs, didn’t he? They’re overcooked. The yolks’ve gone black. He’s drinking too much oolong tea. You can see his lips wrinkling. It looks like he brought salt in that bottle. Smile. Do it. | ||
Banri didn’t notice he was being talked about. | |||
Bodyless though I am, I’m always watching things. | |||
In the week and some days that had passed since the entrance ceremony, it had been registration time, and the campus overflowed with students. From the freshmen like Banri, to the seniors in their suits, going every which way to lectures, with huge schedules about the size of <span class="plainlinks">[http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tatami tatami mats], on the verge of tearing where they’ve been folded from opening and closing them while visiting in the corridors, going to and from classrooms, occupying benches, sending messages by cellphone. | |||
But that’s the way students come to college, at least in spring, I think. Once the long summer vacation starts, half the campus population magically disappears. One or two people, perhaps a few more soon, might even have lost their bodies like me. Having died, I mean. I’m not waiting for it eagerly though, really, but that kind of thing can’t be avoided. | |||
<nowiki><~~6% Completed~~></nowiki> <!-- 2 of 34 pages --> | |||
<noinclude> | <noinclude> | ||
Revision as of 11:46, 16 January 2011
Golden Time 1: Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Tada Banri was eating a boiled egg.
Thursday, first period. To some extent, if he attended, he could easily get more popular in sports science. The lecture started five minutes ago.
Rather than miss breakfast because he slept in late, he had brought along two eggs he’d boiled last night in a plastic bag, and in the fifth seat back he was quietly munching on them.
Sitting with his seat tilted back, there was no way he’d be seen, so it was really no big deal. By his right hand was a blue-capped bottle of Ajishio. In his left hand, an egg. Writing with his right hand, he ate with his left. Write. Chomp. Write. Chomp. ...Really, truly, it was no big deal. Speaking of highlights, he’d hurt himself last night while cracking the eggs with a framed picture, something he didn’t like to remember. Distracted by the memory, he ran into the corner of a desk. He flew into the last empty seat, startling the guy next to him.
Did he bring the boiled eggs? Yep. Did he bring salt too? Yep. And so on. A conversation nearly blossomed, but shortly the guy’s buddy showed up, so Banri turned back quietly to his boiled eggs.
The girls right behind Banri, so he couldn’t hear them, were typing notes to each other on their cellphone displays. That guy in front of us petrified his eggs, didn’t he? They’re overcooked. The yolks’ve gone black. He’s drinking too much oolong tea. You can see his lips wrinkling. It looks like he brought salt in that bottle. Smile. Do it.
Banri didn’t notice he was being talked about.
Bodyless though I am, I’m always watching things.
In the week and some days that had passed since the entrance ceremony, it had been registration time, and the campus overflowed with students. From the freshmen like Banri, to the seniors in their suits, going every which way to lectures, with huge schedules about the size of tatami mats, on the verge of tearing where they’ve been folded from opening and closing them while visiting in the corridors, going to and from classrooms, occupying benches, sending messages by cellphone.
But that’s the way students come to college, at least in spring, I think. Once the long summer vacation starts, half the campus population magically disappears. One or two people, perhaps a few more soon, might even have lost their bodies like me. Having died, I mean. I’m not waiting for it eagerly though, really, but that kind of thing can’t be avoided.
<~~6% Completed~~>
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