**"**"Heyy! Mia-chan, how many fingers am I holding up?"**
The words echo in his mind, carried like a whisper from a different time.
In the haze of memory, a blurry silhouette flickers—shadows dancing across the schoolyard grass, laughter bouncing off the weathered walls.
_Mia adjusts her glasses, squinting gently as if to see._
_"Come on, Kurosawa… don't play with Mia-san like that. Her eyes are blurry."_
The voice, gentle but firm, belongs to their old homeroom teacher. Even now, Kurosawa remembers the way Mia tilted her head, unbothered, a soft smile tugging at her lips as if she knew something he didn't.
Back then, he didn't understand.
One day, Kurosawa rushed into class with a bounce in his step, his bag slung lazily over one shoulder. The spring sun spilled through the windows, painting golden patches across the floor. He glanced toward the seat by the window _her_ seat already imagining what he'd say to her today.
But it was empty.
He was disappointed.
Maybe she was late.
But the bell rang, and still, no sign of her.
The next day, she wasn't there either.
Or the next.
Until a week passed.
"Sensei," he finally asked, standing by the teacher's desk after class, his voice quiet but persistent, "where's Mia-chan?"
The teacher hesitated. His eyes flicked to the window, then back to the boy in front of him. "…Her family moved away."
Kurosawa tilted his head. "Moved? Where?"
A pause. "Somewhere far."
He didn't understand. Not really. Not then.
So he asked again the next day. And the day after that. Every time with the same soft stubbornness.
"Where's Fujimiya?"
But the answer never changed.
And slowly, the seat by the window faded into just another part of the classroom.
But not for Kurosawa.
For him, it was the place where _she_ used to sit. The place where sunlight still seemed to rest a little longer, as if waiting for her to come back.
_A loud beeping sound filled his ears._
Kurosawa's eyes snapped open. For a second, he lay there in a daze.
Then he turned his head.
The digital clock blinked back at him in bright red numbers.
**7:40 AM.**
"Shoot! I'm late for class again!"
He scrambled out of bed, yanking on his uniform with one arm while brushing his teeth with the other. The toast popped from the toaster as he shoved his books into his bag, barely managing to sling it over his shoulder before bolting out the door.
The soft morning haze still had him dizzy. He dashed down the hill toward the station, hair unbrushed, tie half-done, and heart still pounding.
That dream.
That voice.
That smile.
_Mi…_
"*sighs* you could've said something before leaving me."
He finally made it to the gates, panting, tie flapping as he slowed to a walk. The halls were still busy students chatting, lockers clanging, the buzz of morning energy. Class hadn't started yet.
Slipping into his indoor shoes, Kurosawa made his way to the classroom. As he stepped inside, he headed straight for his seat by the window.
"Yo, Kurosawa! You're almost late again—_hahaha!_"
The voice came from across the room.
Kurosawa glanced up to see **Tachibana Ren**, his ever-smiling friend, leaning back in his chair with a grin.
He offered a weak smile back. "Yeah… barely made it."
As he dropped into his seat, he looked around. There was a strange energy in the room today. People whispering, craning their necks to look out the door.
"…Why does everyone seem excited?" he asked, adjusting his tie.
Ren shrugged, glancing toward the front of the room. "Hm… I'm not quite sure. Something about a new transfer student, maybe?"
"A transfer, huh… Anyway, it's always so hot in here, it irritates me," Kurosawa muttered, tugging at his collar and leaning back in his chair.
The room buzzed around him, but he kept his gaze fixed out the window, squinting at the way the sunlight hit the trees just right like it always had back then.
Just then, a familiar voice piped up from behind him.
"Oh? Kurosawa, you're much earlier today!"
He turned to see **Sakura Minami**, her short brown hair tucked behind one ear, books clutched to her chest and a teasing smirk on her lips.
"Yeah, yeah," he replied, waving lazily. "Don't act so surprised. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf."
"Oh, really?" Minami raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Guess even Kurosawa-kun has character development."
Ren snorted. "As if, hahaha."
"Oh, shut up, Ren," Kurosawa muttered, rolling his eyes.
At that moment, the homeroom teacher entered, causing the chatter in the room to quiet down. "Alright, everyone, settle down."
He paused, his eyes scanning the class. "You probably already know, but there's a new transfer student joining us today."
The teacher turned toward the door and gestured with his hand. "You can come in now."
The door creaked open, and in walked a girl. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, moving with a grace that seemed to draw everyone's attention. She had a shy gentle presence, and her figure was poised, though her gaze was directed downward as she stepped carefully into the room.
The girl took a step forward, her voice soft but clear. "Hello, everyone. My name is Fujimiya Aoi. I'll be joining your class starting today."
_Kurosawa whispered to himself in his head,_ "Woah, she's prett—"
He quickly shook his head, his face flushing slightly as the words caught in his throat. He straightened up, clearing his throat loudly.
"No! I won't fall for this!" he said a little too forcefully, almost as if trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
Ren glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
But Kurosawa wasn't paying attention anymore. His gaze was fixed on the girl at the front of the room. She had her head slightly bowed, her long hair shielding her face, but there was something about the way she stood like she was quietly aware of the attention she was getting.
The teacher glanced around the room, then pointed toward the back. "Kurosawa, she'll be sitting next to you. Make sure to help her if she needs anything."
Kurosawa blinked. "Huh? Me?"
Before he could process it any further, the girl walked over, her steps quiet, measured. She gently took the seat beside him, her long hair swaying slightly as she adjusted her uniform. She turned to him with a calm expression, a gentle smile on her lips.
"Pleased to meet you, Haruki-kun," she said softly.
For a moment, Kurosawa just stared, caught off guard by her voice something about it made his chest tighten, but he couldn't put a finger on why.
He quickly looked away, scratching the back of his neck. "Uh, y-yeah… nice to meet you too, Aoi-san."
She let out a soft chuckle, almost inaudible beneath the chatter of the classroom.
And while he glanced out the window to calm his thoughts, she turned ever so slightly in his direction.
Class starts.
The teacher's voice droned on in the background, giving instructions for the next part of the lesson.
Fujimiya adjusted slightly in her seat, then leaned toward him again.
"_Haruki-kun_," she said softly.
Kurosawa's pen froze mid-scribble.
_She's so close to me…_
He could feel the warmth of her presence, hear the slight tremble in her voice.
"Can you tell me what page we're on? I can't quite see the writing," she continued, her tone calm, almost casual.
Kurosawa blinked, thrown off not just by how close she was.
"Uhm uh… Page 43," he replied, trying to steady his voice. "We're starting from the second paragraph."
She nodded. "Thank you, Haruki-kun."
Just hearing her say his name like that made something flutter weirdly in his chest.
A few moments passed. Then the bell rang clear and sharp signaling the start of break time.
Students stood, chatting and shuffling toward the door. Kurosawa was still staring blankly at his desk when Ren leaned over with his usual grin.
"Yo, Kurosawa. Lunch?"
"Huh?" Kurosawa looked up, startled. "Oh, yeah. Sure."
"Come on, sakura-san is already saving us a spot on the rooftop."
Ren threw his bag over his shoulder, waiting.
Kurosawa stood, glancing toward Fujimiya, who was still calmly seated at her desk, organizing her things. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped himself.
_She probably has her own plans,_ he thought.
"You spacing out again?" Ren called over his shoulder.
Kurosawa shook his head quickly and followed. "Coming!"
The rooftop was quiet, save for the hum of cicadas and the occasional gust of wind rustling through the mesh fence.
Kurosawa sat cross-legged with his lunchbox open beside Ren and Minami, who had already halfway devoured his rice balls.
"I swear, this school's curry bread keeps getting smaller," Minami complained between bites.
"That's because _you_ keep getting bigger," Ren snorted, jabbing his thumb at Minami's broadening shoulders. "You've been doing those stupid push-ups every morning, haven't you?"
"Gotta bulk up if I'm ever gonna beat you in PE," Minami said with a grin.
Kurosawa smiled faintly, listening to them bicker. He poked at his rolled omelet with his chopsticks.
"You good?" Ren asked, noticing his half-eaten lunch. "You've been kind of spacey all day."
Kurosawa blinked. "Huh? No, I'm fine."
After lunch, the group lingered on the rooftop for a bit, but Kurosawa found his gaze drifting toward the schoolyard below.
From their spot, he could just barely make out the figure of someone sitting alone on a bench near the trees.
Long hair. Straight posture.
_Aoi-san…?_
Kurosawa squinted slightly. She wasn't eating just sitting quietly, her hands folded neatly in her lap as if she were waiting for something. Or someone.
_Why isn't she eating lunch?_ he wondered.
He glanced down at his bag. He had one extra curry bread his mom had tossed in by accident this morning.
Without saying anything, he stood up and dusted off his pants.
"Where you headed?" Ren asked, halfway through a yawn.
"Nowhere," Kurosawa replied quickly. "Just remembered I've got something to do."
He made his way down the stairs and through the corridors, weaving through clusters of students until he stepped outside into the gentle midday light.
The park behind the school was quiet, the sound of birds chirping mixing with the soft rustle of wind.
As he approached the bench, he slowed.
Fujimiya turned her head slightly, sensing someone nearby.
"haruki-kun?" she said, surprising him.
"Huh? Oh, uh- yeah," he replied, scratching the back of his neck.
"I heard your footsteps," she said with a small smile. "They're a little uneven."
"…Is that a bad thing?"
She shook her head gently.
Kurosawa laughed awkwardly, then held something out.
"Here. Curry bread. I, uh… had a spare."
Fujimiya hesitated, then reached out slowly. "Are you sure? I don't want to take your lunch."
"Yeah, go ahead."
She reached out slowly, her fingers brushing his hand as she took the bread from him. "Thanks. You sure you don't need it?"
"Nah. I already ate," he said, sliding one hand into his pocket. "Besides, I figured… you didn't bring anything?"
She gave a quiet laugh. "I did, but I left it in my locker like an idiot. I was going to go back for it, but… it's kind of a hassle."
Kurosawa glanced at her, noticing how she tilted her head slightly, as if trying to keep him in view.
"…Your eyes," he said before he could stop himself. "Are they okay?"
There was a pause. Then she smiled again, softer this time. "Not really. Everything's been getting blurrier lately."
"…Does it hurt?"
"No," she said, shaking her head gently. "It's just… tiring. Like trying to read through fog."
He didn't know what to say to that, so he stayed quiet.
She looked down at the curry bread in her hands. "Still… you found me, huh?"
"Huh?"
"I didn't think anyone noticed I wasn't in the classroom," she said.
Kurosawa scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling awkward. "Well… I just happened to see you from the rooftop. That's all."
"Mmh," she hummed, unwrapping the bread carefully. "Still… thank you."
Kurosawa shifted on the bench, glancing sideways at her as she quietly took a bite of the curry bread.
_Shoot… do I start a conversation or something? Should I leave? I don't know what to do._
His fingers fidgeted with the zipper of his jacket.
Fujimiya didn't seem uncomfortable. She just sat there, chewing slowly, eyes fixed somewhere on the schoolyard ahead like she was trying to focus on shapes that wouldn't quite come into view.
He cleared his throat.
"Um… so," he blurted. "Do you usually eat alone?"
She paused mid-bite, then slowly lowered the bread.
"Most days," she said quietly. "It's easier, I guess."
"Easier?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed.
Fujimiya gave a small smile, though her gaze stayed fixed ahead.
"When your eyes don't keep up, it's hard to match everyone's pace. Hard to tell where people are looking… what they're reacting to. You end up missing things. Laughs, glances, moments gone before you can catch them."
She let out a soft breath, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Her voice dropped slightly.
"That's why I tend to stay alone. People just think I'm slow. Like I'm not really there. They forget I'm even in the class half the time."
She paused, her fingers curling around the edge of the bench.
"It's strange… I can feel them. Their footsteps. The way the air shifts when they pass by. The way the room gets louder or quieter depending on who's around. But even if I sense them… it's like they don't see me."
Kurosawa's chest tightened a little at her words.
She gave a quiet laugh, almost to herself.
"Sorry. That probably sounds kind of dramatic, huh?"
"…Nope," he said immediately, voice low but firm. "That didn't sound dramatic at all."
She turned slightly, a little surprised.
"You've got it all wrong, Fujimiya-san." His eyes dropped to the ground. "You're not the one who's blind."
He glanced at her.
"People who ignore you, who act like you're not there just because you can't see everything perfectly… they're the ones who don't see anything."
He paused, then added almost like he was thinking aloud:
"A person with sight but no vision… is like a mirror. Clear, polished, reflecting the world faithfully… but never really absorbing its light."
_The bell rang._
"Oh, we should probably head back," Kurosawa said, brushing crumbs from his uniform.
The spring breeze carried cherry blossom petals across the courtyard as they walked toward the school building. Kurosawa kept adjusting his pace - too fast, then too slow - never quite matching Fujimiya's measured steps.
Then it happened. Fujimiya's shoe caught on uneven pavement.
She lurched forward
Kurosawa's arm shot out, gripping her waist. "Whoa there." His palm burned through the fabric of her blazer. Some deep, forgotten part of him recognized the curve of her hip before his conscious mind could protest.
Time suspended. Petals floated between them like frozen pixels.
Then Fujimiya righted herself, and the moment shattered.
"You should be more careful," Kurosawa laughed, too loud, fingers flexing at his side like they missed her warmth.
Fujimiya adjusted her glasses with one finger. "Only if you stop walking into walls."
"Wait, what"
"First period. The doorframe." She resumed walking, leaving him scrambling after her.
"And since when," she added over her shoulder, lips quirking, "did I allow you to call me by my first name?"
Kurosawa's steps faltered. "O-oh! Sorry, it just-"
"I'll allow it," she interrupted, "if you let me call you Haru-kun"
The name hit him like a stray volleyball to the chest. "S-sure," he choked out, suddenly very interested in a nearby dandelion.
The moment they slipped into the classroom, Ren's voice cut through the chatter. "Kurosawa! Where'd you bail to at lunch? Sakura stole all my tamagoyaki!"
Kurosawa slid into his seat with a shrug. "Got held up."
Fujimiya, settling neatly beside him, added without looking up from her notebook, "By a very persistent squirrel."
Kurosawa's water bottle halfway to his lips jerked. He coughed violently.
Ren's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "A squirr-"
"Alright, settle down," the teacher called, tapping the chalkboard. "We're starting a paired research project next week. Choose your partners now."
The room erupted in movement. Ren leaned across the aisle with a stage whisper: "Guess you're stuck with your girlfriend, Kurosawa~"
Fujimiya's pencil stilled. Slowly, deliberately, she turned to Kurosawa. The classroom held its breath.
She said nothing. Just looked at him with those captivating eyes and a smile like sunrise running through a sea of grass - warm, fractured, and devastatingly beautiful.
Kurosawa's throat went dry. "I-I don't— That's not—"
"Alright, let's get these pairs settled," the teacher said, scanning the room. His eyes landed on Fujimiya sitting quietly beside Kurosawa. "Since Fujimiya is still new and you seem to be getting along, Kurosawa, you'll be partners. That should help her adjust."
As the class's attention scattered, Kurosawa chanced a glance at Fujimiya. She was calmly organizing notes, but the after image of that smile still played at his head.
And it hit him - she'd orchestrated this. Every stumble, every glance, every perfectly timed silence.
The realization should have terrified him.
(An hour later The last bell rings. Students rush out, but Fujimiya lingers at her desk, slowly packing her bag.)
(hovering near the door) "Uh… Fujimiya-san? Do you need help finding the station?" (Kurosawa blurts it out, then immediately regrets it she's not a child.)
(pauses) "I know the way." (But she doesn't move. A beat.) "..But the stairs are crowded right now. I'll wait."
(Sees his chance. Leans against the desk, trying to sound casual.)
"Guess I'll wait too. Ren's got club stuff anyway."
(Silence. Cherry blossoms tap the window. Fujimiya's fingers trace the edge of her notebook nervous habit.)
Fujimiya: (quietly) "You don't have to stay Haru-kun."
"I know." (He doesn't leave.)
The distant shouts of soccer practice drifted through the open window. Fujimiya's pencil case clicked shut.
Kurosawa cleared his throat. "So… about what Ren said earlier."
Fujimiya tilted her head, sunlight catching the rim of her glasses. "Hm?"
"You know." He scuffed his shoe against the floor. "The whole… _girlfriend_ thing."
A petal landed on her desk. She brushed it away with one finger. "Should I have reacted?"
"I mean" Kurosawa's voice cracked. He tried again. "Most people would've gotten mad. Or flustered. Or… something."
Fujimiya tilted her head, the dying sunlight catching in her glasses. "Do you want me to get flustered, Haru-kun?"
The name - his name - in her voice. His throat went dry. "N-no! That's not what I'm trying to imply!"
"I'm just playing with you, Haru-kun," she interrupted, swinging her bag onto her shoulder. Then she leaned in just close enough that he caught the scent of jasmine shampoo as she whispered, "But what are you going to do now? Since the whole class thinks I'm your girlfriend?"
A playful smirk curled at the corner of her mouth as she pulled back, watching his face cycle through shock, panic, and something warmer he couldn't quite name.
Kurosawa's hands fluttered uselessly at his sides. "I- we- they don't actually think-"
"Thank you," she said, pausing in the doorway with her bag hugged to her chest. "I had fun talking with you today." The late afternoon sun backlit her silhouette, turning the loose strands of her hair into glowing filaments. "I hope... we can be good friends."
That smile again - warm as sunlight through honey, disarming in its sincerity. For a heartbeat, Kurosawa forgot how to breathe.
"Wait!" He lurched forward, chair screeching behind him. "At least give me your-!"
Kurosawa's outstretched hand slowly fell back to his side. He should feel frustrated. Should be kicking himself for missing yet another obvious chance.
(Somewhere downstairs, Fujimiya pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow.)
Idiot, she chided herself. You were supposed to keep your distance.
Yet when he'd stared at her with those earnest eyes, when he'd stayed after class just to walk her to the station.
She touched her lips, still tingling with unspoken words.
_"Today had been... nice._ _That was the problem."_