Lunch Time With Her

Rin tightened her grip on the cloth in her hand, staring at the desk she was supposed to be cleaning.

She could feel it—the weight of Anko's presence in the room.

Cleaning duty with Hiroshi Anko.

It wasn't like she hated her or anything. But what was she supposed to do? They had never talked before. Not even once. Anko was the kind of person whose world was too bright, too loud, too big for someone like Rin.

And yet, here they were. Stuck together.

Anko moved around easily, already picking up a broom and sweeping like this was just another part of her day. Meanwhile, Rin hesitated before finally reaching for a cloth.

They worked in silence.

Not an uncomfortable one, but a heavy one. Rin focused on wiping down desks, pretending she wasn't hyper-aware of Anko's every move.

Then, out of nowhere—

"You're always on cleaning duty, huh?"

Rin stiffened.

She didn't know how to respond. Was that an insult? A joke? Just an observation?

She glanced at Anko, but the girl wasn't even looking at her. She was still sweeping, like she had just said it without thinking.

"…I guess," Rin mumbled.

Anko hummed. "That's kinda unlucky."

Rin pressed her lips together. I know that already.

For a while, nothing else was said. Just the soft swish of the broom, the faint squeak of the cloth against desks.

Then—Anko spoke again.

"Is it always like that?"

Rin blinked. "Huh?"

Anko tilted her head slightly, still sweeping. "You always do this alone, right?"

Rin didn't answer right away. She wasn't sure what Anko meant.

Was she talking about cleaning duty? Or… everything else?

"…It's fine," Rin muttered. "It's just cleaning."

Anko gave a small hum, as if thinking about her response. Then she said something that caught Rin completely off guard.

"That sounds kinda lonely."

Rin's hand froze mid-wipe.

Lonely?

It wasn't like she hadn't heard that before. Teachers sometimes looked at her with pity. Strangers would glance at her empty desk and whisper.

But hearing it from THE Hiroshi Anko felt different.

Her chest tightened. She swallowed hard and forced herself to keep wiping. "I don't really mind," she said, her voice quieter than before.

Anko didn't reply right away. The broom made a soft swish across the floor. Then—

"You know, you don't have to ignore me the whole time," she said lightly.

Rin immediately stiffened.

"I—I wasn't," she protested, but it sounded weak even to her own ears.

Anko just laughed softly. "Yeah, sure."

Rin gritted her teeth, pressing the cloth harder against the desk. What was with her? Was she just messing around? Trying to be nice?

Whatever it was, it didn't make sense.

She focused on finishing the last few desks, keeping her head down. But when she finally lifted a chair onto the table, she felt it.

A gaze.

She hesitated, then glanced toward Anko—

Only to find her already watching.

Their eyes met.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then Anko tilted her head slightly, a small, unreadable smile playing on her lips. "See? Not so hard to talk to me, right?"

Rin's breath hitched.

She quickly looked away, heart pounding for some reason.

She didn't understand her.

She didn't understand any of this.