As the train continued on its journey, I watched over Kenji as he slept. It had been about 15 minutes since he'd closed his eyes and leaned against the pole to rest. As I gazed at him, it was clear that his reaction was rooted in his innate shyness and embarrassment.
Just as I was lost in these thoughts, a voice from next to me startled me. "Would you mind telling your boyfriend to sit fucking normally?!"
I turned to see a guy I didn't recognize, his voice dripping with irritation. I had a feeling that Kenji's unconventional way of resting had drawn some attention, and the train had become even more crowded in the meantime.
"H-huh?" I stammered in response to the unexpected outburst, not wanting Kenji to wake up and be confronted with this situation.
The stranger's annoyance persisted, and he seemed to care little for my reaction. "I'm sorry! Please don't shout…" I pleaded, lowering my voice to prevent Kenji from being disturbed.
"Ugh, whatever! Just let me sit, would you?!?" he grumbled, exasperated by the situation. He was more concerned with securing a seat than anything else.
I glanced at Kenji, asleep and unaware of the commotion that had unfolded around him. With a sigh, I made a quick decision. Gently, I shifted Kenji's body, moving him back to a more conventional seated position and accidentally allowing his head to rest on my shoulder.
The guy took this opportunity to occupy the vacant seat next to Kenji. As he settled in, I couldn't help but observe that he wore our school's uniform. That realization sparked a touch of anxiety within me – what if this guy was in my class or, even worse, one of Kenji's classmates? I hoped that he wouldn't recognize Kenji or make a fuss about the whole situation.
My cheeks flushed with surprise. Had he just said 'boyfriend'? My gaze had been focused on Kenji while he'd been resting, and now, this stranger had gotten the wrong idea. I felt a mix of emotions at the unexpected assumption.
It was clear that the guy had noticed my concern and protective gesture toward Kenji. But the idea of Kenji being my boyfriend was something I hadn't considered, and it wasn't how I saw our relationship.
Truth be told, I'd never had a boyfriend before. My mind began to wander, considering what I might want in a romantic relationship, but it certainly hadn't involved Kenji.
Nevertheless, I decided to brush off the misunderstanding. For now, there was a more immediate concern, making sure Kenji could rest undisturbed during the remainder of the train ride.
The train grew increasingly crowded as more students in our school's uniform filed in. Their curious stares didn't escape my notice, and the reason behind their inquisitiveness was quite evident. Yet, being the subject of their attention was undeniably uncomfortable. I couldn't help but feel their collective gaze, and it made me acutely aware of the situation.
I was determined to keep Kenji asleep. If he were to awaken now, he'd find himself nestled against my shoulder in this cramped train car, with a sea of students bearing witness to this unintentional intimacy. The mere thought of his potential embarrassment made my heart race.
As I contemplated what lay ahead at school, my mind wandered to the inevitable gossip and rumors that would ensue. People would undoubtedly speculate about the nature of our relationship. It wasn't challenging to clarify that we were merely good friends, but the true challenge lay in addressing the unasked questions. Rumors have a way of multiplying, I knew from my experiences in middle school. They ranged from utterly fabricated tales to painfully accurate accounts.
The prospect of navigating these corridors of unfounded whispers weighed heavily on my mind. How many people would be content with a simple "we're not a couple" response? How many would take that statement at face value without delving further? The train was beginning to feel less like a mode of transportation and more like a harbinger of future complexities.
Then, my tranquility was disrupted by an unexpected sound, a low click followed by the distinct sound of a camera shutter. I instinctively turned my head toward the source of the disruption, and my eyes met those of a girl. She was standing not too far from us, she had our school uniform. A mischievous grin playing on her lips. In her hand, she held her smartphone aloft, pointed directly at Kenji and me. At first, her motions mimicked someone texting, as if she were trying to hide her true intentions. But the awkward 90-degree angle at which she held her phone gave away her real purpose, she was filming us.
My heart raced as a mix of embarrassment, irritation, and curiosity welled up within me. Why was she filming us? Did she know us? Or was she just after some cheap thrill? Kenji was still sleeping, blissfully unaware of the attention we were receiving. The girl's hushed giggles confirmed that we had become the subjects of her amusement. The situation was uncomfortable and bizarre, and I couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable. I exchanged a few cautious glances with the girl, trying to communicate my unease, but her response was to pretend she was just texting. I wondered what she intended to do with the footage. Would she share it with friends, upload it online, or simply keep it for her amusement? The uncertainty gnawed at me.
I sighed deeply, frustration and determination swirling within me. I couldn't allow this to continue. Gently, I shifted Kenji's head from my shoulder to the chair he had been leaning on. Despite the uncomfortable position, the risk of him waking up, and the curious glances from other passengers, I couldn't let this stranger embarrass us. Not on my watch.
Determined to confront the situation, I left my school bag on my seat as a placeholder to claim it. As I stood up, I saw the girl quickly fiddling with her phone, her actions hidden from my view. She soon brought her phone back to a normal angle and gave me an unapologetic look.
"Excuse me," I addressed her, trying to be polite despite my growing annoyance.
Her response was dismissive, dripping with annoyance. "Hm?"
"Did you take a video of me?" I inquired, my voice steady but firm.
"Huh? Do you have a problem with that?"
She didn't seem hesitant to admit it, which surprised me. Most people would deny it.
"Yes, I don't consent to you taking a video of me," I replied, trying to keep my tone even.
Her reply was confrontational, and she raised her voice. People had begun to notice our exchange, including the guy from earlier who had shouted at me. At least now, the focus was on our confrontation, and Kenji was no longer the center of attention.
"Do you think I care about your consent?"
Unfazed, I continued, "It doesn't matter. Please delete anything related to me."
"Why are you going to do if I don't? Tell your boyfriend?" Her mention of a "boyfriend" led to a sigh of frustration, making it clear that I needed to clarify the situation. "He isn't my boyfriend. We're just good friends, that's all."
"As if! Who will let their 'good friend' sleep on their shoulder? What are you?" She laughed, her voice resonating through the train, where more and more passengers were now turning their heads and watching us as if it were some kind of live TV drama show. Our little incident had undeniably become the center of attention, and the intensity of the stares was palpable.
I asserted myself, "It's none of your business. Please delete it, or I'll report this."
Defiant, she retorted, "To whom? The police? You think you would get away with that?" She said with a defiant tone, her eyes narrowing. It seemed like she was gearing up for a confrontation, ready to argue her point, and she certainly wasn't going down without a fight.
I kept my composure and delivered a final warning, "The school. I'll report you to the school."
Surprised by my mention of reporting to the school, her defiant demeanor faltered for a moment. It was as if the gravity of the situation had suddenly dawned on her. While reporting someone to the school might not have the same severity as reporting to the police, it could still have dire consequences.
I couldn't help but think about how her expression had shifted, her initial arrogance giving way to a tinge of concern. It was evident that she was weighing the potential repercussions of her actions and the trouble she could find herself in if I followed through.
Honestly, I would have been more scared if someone threatened to report me to the police. That would be a whole different level of trouble. But reporting her to the school was still a significant step, and I could only hope it was enough to make her reconsider her actions.
The thought of her getting expelled on the first day was unsettling, and it wasn't something I wanted to resort to, but I was determined to protect our privacy and prevent any rumors or embarrassment from spreading.
"W-Whatever.." she muttered with disdain, reluctantly accessing her phone's gallery. As I glanced at the screen, I noticed nearly 30 pictures and videos she had taken of us. The embarrassment grew inside me.
"Delete that…" I insisted.
Without further protest, she selected all the media she had captured and tapped the 'delete' button. Relief washed over me, and I couldn't help but smile, although I was still deeply embarrassed.
"Thank you," I expressed my gratitude, but she only responded with a disgruntled noise before walking away.
As I returned to my seat, my heart continued to race, and the awareness of the passengers around me lingered. I couldn't help but wonder if others had discreetly taken photos, their intentions hidden. I settled back into my seat, clutching my bag tightly, and let out a sigh of relief, grateful that the situation had finally come to an end.