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There were so many more people than she’d expected. Outside, the size of the crowd had been understandable; every year of students were mingled together, rushing through the courtyard and down the halls. But she’d thought—even hoped—that with them being divided by year, the groups would have been more manageably-sized. Now the seats were starting to fill towards the back, though, and people had begun sitting closer in her row. 

A boy scooted past her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. For all her worrying over the auditorium, she hadn’t even been paying attention to it, like her vision had blurred. Reflexively she rubbed her face, worried she might have just sprung another leak, but thankfully not. Just the idea that she might start crying again [i]here[/i] was enough to make her palms ache. 

[color=crimson]“N-no, it’s not. I don’t think.”[/color] she answered, when the boy asked after the seat between her and the jelly-girl. She regretted that, in retrospect. It might have been easier to claim she was saving it for someone, and pray she could get through the ceremonies with a little space beside her. 

As he rounded up beside her she noticed the bag in his arms, and a fruity smell touched her nose. She reeled a bit, trying to parse out what exactly he had in there, and then found herself instead wondering [i]why[/i] he had it. 

Before she could think better of it, she was leaning out to steal a peek into the bag. Her brow flattened.

[color=crimson]“Is…that a pineapple…?”[/color] she asked, mouse-like, yet the sound of her own voice still made her cringe.