Library
I sat in the library, surrounded by towering shelves of books, their scent mingling with the faint traces of paper and ink.
As I flipped through textbooks and glanced over the notes I had painstakingly written, I could faintly feel the vibration of hurried footsteps echoing against the wooden floor.
Whispers floated around me—hushed, fleeting, and curious.
Who knows what they were speaking about? Gossip, secrets, or simply the mundane chatter of students.
Adjusting the bracelets around my wrist, I cast a glance at my watch and sighed.
Gathering my belongings carefully, I began slipping them into my bag when my phone suddenly buzzed.
New message from Mom.
I swiped across the screen, her gentle reminder appearing before me:
“Don’t forget to eat your lunch, and don’t overwork yourself.”
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I began typing back. “I won’t, Mom. I promise.”
After leaving the quiet sanctuary of the library, I made my way to the second floor.
The familiar sight of my classroom welcomed me, and I slid into my seat without much thought.
With a soft click, I adjusted my hearing aid, the world sharpening in sound, and once more I buried myself into my notes.
That was when I heard it—quick, hurried footsteps racing in my direction. I looked up instinctively, only to find you standing there.
You were panting lightly, strands of hair falling against your forehead, but even so, your grin was dazzling—as though the embodiment of sunshine itself had taken human form.
Everyone knew you.
You were the kind of person who overflowed with energy and positivity, someone who lifted the spirits of those around you.
The academy called you its brightest light, a reputation you carried effortlessly.
“Hey, Kota! Is this yours?” you asked, extending a familiar object in your hand.
My eyes widened. My blue notebook—my important notes.
I froze for a moment, then nodded, slowly. “...Thank you. It’s mine.”
You smiled with relief, ready to walk away. But before you could, I reached out and lightly tugged on your blouse.
You turned back, curious. In my hands was my homework—complete with all the answers neatly written.
“Eh? What’s this for?” you asked, confusion flashing in your eyes.
I blinked at you, stunned. Any other student would have taken it instantly, without question, without shame. But you... you asked why.
“My homework…” I murmured, half-expecting you to take it.
But instead, you shook your head with an easy smile. “Nah, I’m good. I have my own homework anyway. Thanks though!”
And just like that, you walked away.
I sat there in silence, astonished. No one had ever refused before.
After class.
By the time the sun had set, I was already home. The scent of warm broth filled the dining room as I ate beside my little sister, Nanaka.
She hummed happily with each bite, her small hands clutching her chopsticks. Mother joined us soon after, setting down her bowl before looking at me with gentle eyes.
“How was school today, Kota?” she asked softly.
“It was… okay,” I replied in a calm tone. “I received a perfect score on my exam.”
Her lips curved into a satisfied smile, and she nodded approvingly.
“I’m glad. Did anyone approach you today?” The same question she asked almost every evening.
I hesitated briefly before nodding.
Her brows knitted together. “Who?”
“The cheerful guy from my class,” I admitted. “I accidentally left my notebook in the library, and he brought it back to me.”
Mother’s gaze deepened with thought. “And then?”
I lowered my eyes to my food. “…I tried handing him my homework with all the answers written down. But… he refused. He said he had his own homework, so he didn’t need it.”
Her eyes widened slightly. Such a response was rare in this academy.
“Are you certain he isn’t manipulating you? Taking advantage in another way?” she asked, caution laced in her voice.
I shook my head firmly. “…Definitely not,” I replied. My voice was quiet, but resolute.