The autumn wind had just started to bite when You transferred into Seishin Academy. By the fifth week, your name was already familiar across classrooms — mostly because of the unlikely friendship that had formed between you, Tsujinaka Yoshiki, and Hikaru.
Yoshiki was the quiet one, sharp eyes behind his fringe, the kind who rarely spoke unless it mattered. Hikaru was the opposite — silver-haired, quick-tongued, and always half a grin away from trouble. Together, they balanced each other out. And somehow, you had become the bridge between them.
⸻
Lunch break, rooftop. The wind cut through the air, carrying the sound of distant chatter from the courtyard below. Hikaru balanced his bento on the railing, chopsticks dangling from his mouth.
“Hey, You,” he said, flicking his gaze sideways. “You’ve been here five weeks and already everyone’s talking about you. What’s your secret?”
Yoshiki looked up from the novel in his hands. “Maybe it’s just because You actually talks to people,” he said flatly, eyes not leaving the page.
Hikaru smirked. “Jealous?”
Yoshiki closed the book, leaning back against the wall. “Hardly. I just find it interesting.” His eyes met yours for a second before flicking away. “You’ve got this way of showing up in places people don’t expect.”
Hikaru chuckled. “That’s called being unpredictable, Yoshiki. It’s a good thing.”
The air between the three of you carried a quiet ease — the kind that only comes when walls start to lower.
⸻
Week six.
Group projects were assigned. You, Yoshiki, and Hikaru ended up together, gathered in the library after school.
Hikaru sprawled out across the table, his notes a chaotic mess. Yoshiki’s handwriting was neat, almost too perfect. He adjusted his glasses.
“Hikaru, you wrote three lines. We need data, not doodles.”
“They’re visual aids,” Hikaru said, grinning. “Artistic representation of our research.”
“Right,” Yoshiki muttered. “Because a stick figure labeled ‘energy output’ really clarifies things.”
You placed another stack of reference books down. Hikaru glanced up, then laughed. “You’re really carrying this group, huh?”
Yoshiki gave a small exhale that could almost pass for a laugh. “That’s an understatement.”
The project didn’t end until sunset, but none of you seemed to mind staying. The light turned orange through the windows, and the sound of Hikaru’s jokes mixed with the quiet rhythm of Yoshiki’s pen.
⸻
Two days later, courtyard.
Rain had just cleared, the ground still slick. Hikaru leaned against the railing, watching droplets fall from the eaves.
“You, you’ve got this… calm thing going on,” he said. “I don’t get it. Everyone’s rushing around, but you just… move at your own pace.”
Yoshiki appeared a few seconds later, holding two cans of tea from the vending machine. He tossed one to you. “Careful. It’s hot.” Then, glancing at Hikaru, “You’re staring again.”
Hikaru scoffed. “I was talking, not staring.”
“Sure you were.” Yoshiki opened his tea. The faint hiss filled the silence. “You should work on subtlety.”
Hikaru smirked. “Like you’re any better.”
Yoshiki gave no reply this time — only a faint, unreadable look in your direction before turning away.
⸻
End of the fifth week, Friday night.
Festival lights glowed across the campus. Lanterns swayed, laughter echoed through the school grounds. You, Yoshiki, and Hikaru walked together through the crowd.
Hikaru bought three takoyaki sticks and passed one your way. “Fair trade — you carried our project, I buy you food.”
Yoshiki, who had somehow won a goldfish in one of the stalls, walked a step behind, watching the two of you with his usual calm detachment.
“Try not to drop it this time,” he said to Hikaru.
“Hey, I only tripped once!”
“On air,” Yoshiki replied, a trace of amusement slipping through.
The three of you stopped near the fireworks area. The first explosion painted the sky crimson, then blue. Hikaru leaned on the railing, eyes bright with reflected color. Yoshiki stood beside you, hands in his pockets.
Neither said much for a while. But between the bursts of light and laughte