Emotion Taster

Arc 0 Strawberries: Chapter 6 - My name is Kaivan

“...”

This girl's attitude is a little strange. His chest and stomach were fluttering irregularly, his breathing panting frantically looking towards me. However, even so, not a single word came out from him.

What words that came out of his mouth in the hall were only my delusion? From here I could feel that he was completely mute.

The expression he made was not like if he didn't know me. It might be faster to ask him directly.

“Woi—”

*Whoush ....

Gekth!?

A wave of emotion, the second time I felt an electric shock. His surprised reaction was excessive enough to simply receive a greeting. It made me feel the torment of five to ten people at once.

The foundation of the hand to support my body was destroyed. Almost my face fell to the floor, but my reflex first acted by moving the elbow to defend.

Damn, only this time I faced one person whose emotional change could make me limp.

“Woi ..!” my yell was hoarse, because of his emotions I couldn't control my throat muscles properly. “You can rest easy—”

*Whoush ....

“...”

Any more?

My hearing was buzzing, my joints were suddenly shivering, my heart was racing in cold sweat.

Am I that scary? Why just making a sound makes you this scared?

The emotions he was releasing were too dense. Concentration was disturbed, thoughts started to limp, I finally gave up and let my whole body land on the floor.

Huh ....

I'm tired like this. Every time I meet someone who is depressed, frightened, resentful, or changes in emotions, I feel the same pain.

Especially people who hide their feelings, they are the biggest source of pain in my life. Assuming that the problem will be okay with letting it flow, thinking that his depression will only cause problems if they are shared with others, thinking too positively to blind reality. The emotions of those people were very strong and made me accept the impact.

Hn?

A few seconds passed, I began to feel that the waves of negative emotions were disappearing little by little. The air started to feel light, my muscles were finally well controlled.

The strawberries?

Oh ... It's anxiety and worry. In contrast to the usual restlessness whose sour taste is unpleasant, anxious and worried about having affection in it, makes the feeling a little sweeter.

I got up from my fall, started to raise my face and stare towards the girl. But, what I saw first was an A6-sized skecthbook.

You all right?

That's the writing I saw. Naturally he asked, from his point of view, I was a strange person who fell awake for no apparent reason.

Alright, now I have to be careful with my actions so that the emotional wave does not come out again.

“Well, I'm fine. Just a little tingling.”

I allowed my position slowly. Equalizing with his position half-standing now.

“You Amalia, ‘kan?”

The girl did not answer. Instead, he looked at my eyes and nodded once.

Alright until now I have not felt a new wave of emotions. I think now he can tell a better story, because there are a lot of questions I want to give him.

Where do you know that from?

“Yesterday afternoon time in the hall ... The girl who wears the strange clothes is you, ‘kan? Your friend over there tell.”

Actually I'm looking for you.

Hmn ... so it is.

If that's true, you shouldn't be surprised like that. I who was looking for him was also quite surprised just now.

This was also the first day I spoke to a mute person through writing, it felt quite unique. While waiting for her to write her notes, my chest was filled with curiosity as to what she was about to show.

I started to stand up, followed by Amalia adjusting my movements. Of course we can't be in a sitting position in the hallway.

“Keep, what do you want now?”

From what had already happened, of course this all had something to do with the incident in the hall yesterday. The one who got into trouble doesn't seem to be me.

Amalia was silent for a moment. The pen is lifted on the equivalent of the right cheek, while the direction of view leads to the upper left. He thought, processing the right words to explain what was on his mind.

I asked you, are you a user?

The users?

“What is it?”

Amalia went quiet again. I could feel the emotion of confusion within him. He also seemed to be digesting things I did not understand.

When viewed from the language, users means users or users. It's been imagined what he's saying, but I still don't say that I understand.

After several times he tapped on his notes, he finally started writing something. Waiting for him to move was quite stressful, I felt that there was a heavy burden if I urged the mute person to communicate.

I guess I don't understand either. So, I'll ask someone else to explain. Do you have time to go home from school?

Does that mean he wants to meet me with someone? General knowledge teaches, it is quite dangerous if I go after people I do not know clearly. But, I did not feel any negative emotions from this girl. It is certain that Amalia had no malicious intent there.

Hn?

Amalia took out another paper before I answered the question just now.

If you are busy, that is okay. We can ask that person next time.

“No,” I replied to affirm, for for a moment I felt a sour and salty taste of his emotions. “I don't have any plans, I can go today.”

After saying that, the sour and salty taste of his agitated awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced with the fresh aroma of fruits. It seemed that he was quite relieved by my answer.

This was my usual thing, accepting all requests before my interlocutor let out even greater negative emotions.

“...”

Amalia looked at me, looking at my top of my hair and clothes. Because of her gaze, I felt a little awkward and confused.

He pulled his head back, started writing in his notes and then showed it to me.

Can you write your name here?

Unlike me, she did not know my identity clearly. If we hadn't met like this, would he have been circling the school with only facial memories to look for me?

I started picking up his pen and notebook. Write my name there, though it's a little embarrassing to see the difference between my bad writing and his.

“Sip.”

If felt directly, his notebook felt small. I can even hold it with one palm. But that doesn't mean it's enough in your pocket.

My name is Kaivan Rocio. Call me Kaivan or Ivan.

*****