That morning, when the final bell rang and its echo slowly dissolved into the everyday noise of students packing their bags and drifting back into their routines, I found myself lingering in my seat just a little longer than everyone else. The classroom, which had been filled with voices only moments ago, began to empty out, leaving behind a quiet that felt almost unfamiliar. I stared at the desk in front of me, tracing the faint scratches on its surface with my eyes, as if they could somehow ground me in this moment.
Eventually, I stood up.
My movements felt slower than usual, deliberate, like I was trying to delay something I couldn't quite name. I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped out into the hallway, where the soft hum of conversations and footsteps wrapped around me like a distant current. Everything felt normal. Too normal.
And yet, beneath that normalcy, there was a quiet pull guiding me somewhere else.
Before I realized it, my feet had already turned toward the staircase leading up to the rooftop.
Each step I took upward echoed faintly, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls in a steady rhythm. I used to run up these stairs without thinking, back when everything felt simple and close. Back when I didn't hesitate like this. Now, each step carried a strange weight, as though I was climbing through layers of time instead of just moving between floors.
When I reached the door, I paused.
My hand rested on the handle, cool and slightly worn, a small detail that somehow made everything feel more real. I took a quiet breath, steadying myself, though I wasn't entirely sure why I needed to.
Then I pushed it open.
The rooftop unfolded before me in a wide, open expanse, the sky stretching endlessly above, pale blue with faint streaks of drifting clouds. The sunlight spilled across the concrete floor, warming its surface, while the wind moved freely, brushing past me as if welcoming me back in its own quiet way.
It carried with it the scent of the ocean.
Faint, but unmistakable.
That familiar mix of salt and air settled into my senses, stirring something deep within me that I hadn't expected to feel so strongly. It was strange how something so simple could hold so many memories, tucked away in places I hadn't visited in years.
And then I saw him.
Himeya stood near the railing, his back turned toward me, his figure outlined softly by the afternoon light. He wasn't moving, not even slightly, as though he had become part of the scenery itself. His gaze was directed outward, toward the distant ocean that blended into the horizon, his attention fixed on something far beyond what I could see.
For a moment, I didn't move.
I simply watched him.
The way the sunlight caught in his hair, the way the wind tugged gently at his uniform, the quiet stillness that surrounded him. It all felt so familiar that it almost hurt. Like stepping into a memory that hadn't changed, even though I had.
I took a step forward.
The sound of my shoe against the concrete was soft, but it was enough.
Himeya turned.
It wasn't abrupt. It wasn't startled. It was the kind of movement that suggested he already knew I was there, as if my presence had reached him long before I spoke or even moved.
His eyes met mine.
And in that instant, everything else seemed to fall away.
"Alicia…"
My name left his lips in a quiet voice, carrying a softness that made it feel different from how anyone else said it. There was something in it that lingered, something that stretched beyond just recognition.
"Himeya."
I answered without thinking.
The word came naturally, slipping past my lips before I had the chance to stop it. And somehow, without either of us deciding it, our conversation shifted into Japanese, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, as if the time I had spent away hadn't changed that part of me at all.
He tilted his head slightly, studying me with an expression that was calm but not entirely unreadable.
"So, what do you think about this Japanese school?"
His tone was light, almost casual, but there was a subtle carefulness behind it, like he was choosing his words with more thought than usual.
I glanced around the rooftop, letting my eyes take in the familiar surroundings. The fence that lined the edge, the slightly worn concrete floor, the distant view of the ocean that stretched endlessly. Everything was exactly as I remembered, and yet it felt different simply because I was seeing it again after so long.
"It feels different," I said slowly. "Compared to Canada, everything here feels… closer. The people, the atmosphere, even the silence feels different."
He let out a small laugh, the sound soft and easy.
"My mom says that all the time. She always talks about how things here feel more connected somehow."
I nodded slightly, though I didn't say anything else.
The conversation paused there, giving way to a silence that settled between us. It wasn't sharp or uncomfortable, but it wasn't entirely smooth either. It felt layered, filled with things we weren't saying, things that hovered just beneath the surface, waiting.
Himeya broke it first.
"It's been a while."
The simplicity of his words contrasted with the weight they carried.
I felt my chest tighten slightly, though I kept my expression calm, allowing a small smile to form.
"I'm home…"
Saying it out loud felt strange.
The word didn't come easily, but it didn't feel wrong either.
Himeya's response came immediately.
"Welcome back, Alicia."
There was no hesitation in his voice. No doubt. Just a quiet certainty that settled into the space between us, grounding the moment in a way I hadn't expected.
The wind passed through the rooftop again, stronger this time, brushing against my skin and pulling lightly at my hair. It carried the same scent of salt, the same quiet reminder of where I was.
For a few seconds, neither of us moved.
It felt like the world had slowed down, stretching this moment just enough for me to notice every small detail. The way the sunlight shifted slightly as clouds drifted overhead. The faint sound of distant waves. The quiet rhythm of my own breathing.
Then Himeya stepped forward.
Just one step.
But it was enough to close the distance slightly, enough to make his presence feel more immediate.
"You've changed," he said.
I blinked, tilting my head just a little.
"Changed? How?"
He paused, as if considering how to explain something that didn't fit easily into words.
"I'm not sure," he admitted, letting out a soft breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "It's just… different. The way you carry yourself. The way you smile."
His gaze softened slightly.
"Back then, it felt like you were forcing it sometimes. Like you weren't sure if it was okay to feel that way."
I looked down instinctively, my fingers curling around the railing beside me. The metal was cool against my skin, grounding me in the moment.
"And now?" I asked quietly.
"It feels natural," he said. "Like you're not holding it back anymore."
I let out a small breath, though I wasn't sure if it was relief or something else.
"Maybe Canada changed me," I said. "Or maybe I just had more time to think about things."
Himeya shook his head slightly.
"Or maybe you just missed being here."
His voice was softer now, quieter than before.
I didn't respond.
The word stayed with me, settling somewhere deep inside my chest. It wasn't heavy in a painful way, but it wasn't light either. It was something in between, something that carried both comfort and uncertainty at the same time.
I had spent so long thinking about what it meant to leave that I hadn't really thought about what it meant to come back.
The silence stretched again, but this time it felt more fragile.
"I heard about what happened," Himeya said.
His voice changed slightly, losing its earlier lightness.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."
My body went still.
The air around me seemed to shift, the warmth of the sunlight fading into something cooler, quieter.
There were so many things I could have said.
Words that had been sitting inside me for years, waiting for a moment like this.
But none of them came out.
It felt like my thoughts and my voice were moving in completely different directions, unable to meet halfway.
Himeya looked down briefly, his expression tightening just a little before he continued.
"Your mother was an incredible person."
His voice was steady, but careful.
"She didn't need words to express herself. She could take a blank canvas and turn it into something that felt alive. Every painting she made felt like it had a piece of her in it."
I swallowed quietly, my grip on the railing tightening.
Images surfaced in my mind without warning.
The soft rustle of brushes being cleaned.
The faint scent of paint lingering in the air.
The way sunlight used to fall across her workspace, illuminating colors that never seemed to stay still.
I could hear her voice, faint but clear, calling my name from another room.
And yet, standing here now, all of it felt distant.
Not gone.
Just… out of reach.
I didn't say anything.
I couldn't.
So I stayed where I was, listening to Himeya's voice as he spoke, letting the memories come and go without trying to stop them.
The wind moved through the rooftop again, quieter this time, slipping between us without interruption.
Himeya didn't step any closer.
But he didn't step away either.
And without realizing it, I found myself still holding onto the railing, as if letting go would shift something I wasn't ready to face yet.
The sky above remained clear, stretching endlessly, unchanged by everything that was happening below it.
Somewhere in the distance, a faint sound echoed from the school building, reminding me that time was still moving forward, even if it didn't feel like it here.
I slowly loosened my grip on the railing, though my hand didn't fully pull away.
My gaze stayed lowered, not quite ready to meet his again.
And for a while, neither of us spoke.
"And suddenly…"
Himeya's voice broke through the quiet, cutting gently into the space we had been holding onto for far too long.
"Do you want to meet my friends?"
The question came out simply, without hesitation, without any unnecessary buildup. It was so direct that it caught me off guard.
I blinked, lifting my gaze to look at him properly.
Coming from him, someone who had always carried himself with that calm, unreadable expression, the invitation felt unexpectedly… personal. It wasn't just about meeting people. There was something else behind it, something subtle, something I couldn't immediately put into words.
For a brief moment, I studied his face, searching for any hint of what he might be thinking.
But as always, Himeya didn't give much away.
And somehow, that made it more interesting.
"…Okay," I said, nodding lightly.
The answer came more naturally than I expected.
Without another word, Himeya turned and began walking toward the rooftop door, his movements steady, as if he had already assumed I would follow.
I hesitated for half a second, glancing once more at the open sky, the distant ocean, the quiet space we were leaving behind.
Then I stepped forward and followed him.
The door closed behind us with a soft click.
The atmosphere shifted immediately.
The open air was replaced by the enclosed stillness of the stairwell, where our footsteps echoed faintly as we made our way down. The sound of the school gradually grew louder with each floor we passed, voices blending together into a familiar background noise that felt strangely distant after the silence of the rooftop.
We walked side by side, though not too close.
There was a comfortable distance between us, one that didn't feel forced.
As we reached the hallway leading toward the gymnasium, Himeya finally spoke again.
"One of them is probably still there," he said. "He spends most of his time in the gym."
I glanced at him. "One of them?"
He gave a small nod.
"His name is Kousuke. Kirihara Kousuke."
There was a slight shift in his tone when he said the name, something lighter, almost amused.
"He's…" Himeya paused briefly, as if choosing the right words. "Probably the funniest person I've ever met."
I raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued.
"Funny? From your perspective, that sounds… rare."
He let out a quiet breath that almost resembled a laugh.
"Yeah. He talks a lot. Sometimes too much."
There was a brief pause before he continued.
"He's a bit shy, though. At least at first. But I think he'll be fine once he gets used to you."
I tilted my head slightly.
"Shy and talks too much?"
Himeya glanced at me for a moment, then looked ahead again.
"You'll understand when you meet him."
By the time we reached the gymnasium building, the faint echo of bouncing balls and distant voices filled the air. The large doors were partially open, letting the sounds spill out into the hallway.
Himeya pushed the door open further and stepped inside.
I followed closely behind.
The gym was spacious, the polished wooden floor reflecting the overhead lights. A few students were scattered around, some practicing, others chatting near the benches along the side.
And then,
"Yo, Himeya!"
A voice called out, loud and energetic, immediately drawing attention.
A boy with yellow hair jogged toward us, his presence noticeably more expressive than anyone else in the room. His movements were quick, his energy almost overflowing as he approached.
This had to be him.
Kirihara Kousuke.
Before I could say anything, Himeya spoke.
"Kousuke, this is Alicia."
Kousuke's eyes shifted to me instantly, scanning me with open curiosity, his expression changing in real time as if he wasn't even trying to hide what he was thinking.
For a split second, there was silence.
Then,
"Ohhh."
The sound stretched out, filled with implication.
"So," he said, placing his hands on his hips as a grin spread across his face, "you finally got yourself a girlfriend, Himeya?"
The words landed so casually, yet so loudly, that I felt the atmosphere around us shift in an instant.
I glanced at Himeya.
And for the first time since I had seen him today,
His expression broke.
Not just slightly.
Completely.
"Stop it," he said quickly, his voice sharper than before, though there was a clear hint of fluster beneath it. "I'm being serious. She and I are just friends."
He paused for a fraction of a second before adding, almost as if to confirm it out loud—
"Right, Alicia?"
All attention turned to me.
My shoulders stiffened slightly.
"Y-yes… we are," I replied, my voice coming out softer than I intended.
Kousuke leaned in slightly, narrowing his eyes as if examining something interesting.
"Hoo…"
There was a pause.
"You can speak Japanese?"
I nodded.
"Yes, but… only a little."
"Only a little, huh…" he repeated, though the tone of his voice suggested he wasn't entirely convinced.
Then, without warning, his expression shifted again.
A mischievous glint appeared in his eyes.
"Alicia," he said suddenly, switching to English, his pronunciation a little rough but understandable, "do you like Himeya?"
There was a brief moment where everything seemed to stop.
Then,
"HEY!"
Himeya's voice cut in immediately, louder than before.
"AREN'T YOUR ENGLISH BAD?!"
Kousuke didn't even flinch.
"It's improving," he shot back casually, clearly pleased with himself.
The contrast between them was almost surreal.
Himeya, who had been calm and composed on the rooftop, now stood there visibly flustered, his usual composure slipping in small but noticeable ways.
And Kousuke, who had supposedly been "shy," was anything but.
I couldn't help it.
A small laugh escaped me.
It started quietly, almost involuntarily, but once it did, I couldn't quite hold it back.
The tension that had been lingering inside me since earlier began to loosen, just a little.
Maybe it was the way Kousuke spoke so freely.
Or the way Himeya reacted so differently around him.
Or maybe it was simply the fact that, for the first time since I arrived, everything felt… normal.
Light.
Uncomplicated.
I glanced at Himeya again.
There was still a trace of embarrassment on his face, though he tried to hide it, turning slightly away as if that would somehow fix everything.
And in that moment, something crossed my mind.
Maybe…
Just maybe…
This was his way of trying to make things easier for me.
Not through words.
Not through direct comfort.
But by bringing me into a space where I didn't have to think so much.
Where I could just… be.
I didn't say it out loud.
But the thought stayed with me, quiet and steady, as the conversation continued around us.
"Uhum… uhum."
Himeya cleared his throat in an exaggerated way, the kind that didn't quite succeed in hiding what had just happened moments ago. It felt less like he was trying to reset the conversation, and more like he was attempting to regain whatever composure Kousuke had just shattered.
He straightened slightly, his expression returning to something closer to his usual calm.
"Let me introduce her properly," he said, his tone more controlled now. "This is Alicia… my childhood friend."
There was a small pause after he said it.
Childhood friend.
The words settled quietly in the air, simple and factual, yet carrying a weight that felt difficult to define. I wasn't sure why but hearing him say it out loud like that made something in my chest shift slightly.
Still, I stepped forward just a little and gave a polite nod.
"Hello… I'm Alicia. Alicia Lunar Rose."
My voice came out steady, though I could feel Kousuke's attention immediately sharpen.
"Hello there," Kousuke replied without missing a beat, placing a hand against his chest in an almost overly formal gesture that didn't quite match the grin on his face. "My name is Kousuke. Kirihara Kousuke."
He gestured casually toward Himeya beside him.
"I'm this guy's friend. He seems unreliable sometimes, but try to treat him well, Alicia-chan."
There was a beat of silence.
Then,
"You're not my mother, ya know."
Himeya's response came flat, immediate, and just slightly annoyed, though not enough to carry any real irritation.
And somehow…
That phrase.
That exact tone.
I froze for just a second.
Ah…
That "ya know."
It had been a while since I heard it.
It was such a small thing. Just a habit in the way he spoke. But hearing it again, unchanged after all this time, stirred something quietly nostalgic within me. Like finding a familiar note in a song I thought I had forgotten.
Kousuke didn't seem affected at all.
"So," he said, clapping his hands lightly as if shifting the topic on purpose, "what's going on? You two came all the way here just to watch me practice or what?"
Himeya shook his head slightly.
"I just wanted to show her around," he replied. "We ended up here, and I didn't expect to see you joining the basketball club."
There was a faint hint of surprise in his voice, though it was subtle.
Kousuke puffed his chest out a little, clearly pleased.
"Hehe, I've been working on improving my skills," he said, spinning a basketball lightly on his finger before catching it again. "Gotta aim higher, you know?"
Himeya watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable as always.
"Well… good luck with that."
The words sounded dry, almost dismissive on the surface.
But there was no real harshness behind them.
If anything, it felt natural. Casual. Like this was simply how they spoke to each other.
A kind of language built over time, where encouragement didn't need to sound obvious to be understood.
Kousuke didn't seem bothered in the slightest.
"Oi, at least pretend to be impressed," he muttered, though his grin didn't fade.
Then, as if remembering something, he turned back to me.
"So, Alicia-chan," he said, tilting his head slightly, his tone shifting into something more curious, "is there anything you're interested in? Like clubs or activities?"
The question caught me off guard.
I hadn't thought that far ahead yet.
My gaze drifted slightly, unfocused, as I searched through my thoughts.
Clubs…
Activities…
There were a lot of options, probably.
Sports, music, literature…
But none of those felt quite right.
Instead, something quieter surfaced in my mind.
The faint smell of paint.
The soft texture of paper beneath my fingertips.
The slow, careful movement of a brush across a blank canvas.
Art…
Books…
Things that didn't demand noise.
Things that allowed space to think.
"I think…" I began slowly, my voice soft as I tried to organize my thoughts into words. "Maybe something like the arts club."
The moment I said it out loud, it felt… fitting.
Not certain.
But close enough.
Kousuke's eyes lit up immediately.
"Arts club, huh?" he repeated, sounding genuinely interested. "That's pretty nice. Calm, creative… suits you."
I blinked slightly at how quickly he responded.
Meanwhile, Himeya remained quiet.
But I could feel his gaze shift toward me.
Not intense.
Not heavy.
Just… there.
Observing.
As if he was trying to understand something without interrupting it.
Kousuke bounced the basketball lightly against the floor once, catching it again with ease.
"You planning to join anytime soon?" he asked.
"I'm not sure yet," I admitted. "I haven't really looked around properly."
"Then you should," he said immediately. "Clubs are like… the fastest way to not feel out of place here."
There was something unexpectedly straightforward about his words.
Not teasing.
Not exaggerated.
Just honest.
For a brief moment, I found myself considering it more seriously.
Maybe he was right.
Before I could respond, the sound of sneakers squeaking against the polished floor echoed from the other side of the gym, followed by someone calling Kousuke's name.
He turned his head slightly, clicking his tongue.
"Ah… they're calling me already."
He looked back at us, shifting the ball under his arm.
"Duty calls."
There was a brief pause before he added, glancing between me and Himeya with a knowing look that he didn't even try to hide.
"Don't go anywhere too far, alright? I still have more questions."
"Haven't you asked enough already?" Himeya replied flatly.
Kousuke just laughed.
Then, without waiting for another response, he jogged back toward the court, seamlessly blending back into the activity as if nothing had happened.
The gym felt a little quieter after he left.
Or maybe it just felt that way because the energy he carried was suddenly gone.
I watched him for a moment, then shifted my gaze slightly.
Himeya was still standing beside me.
Silent.
But not distant.
And for a brief second, I wondered what he was thinking.
Then I looked away again, my attention drifting toward the polished floor, the faint reflections of movement, the quiet rhythm of the gym continuing as usual.
"…Arts club," I murmured softly, almost to myself, as if testing how the words felt when spoken again.
"You're interested?"
Himeya's voice came quietly, not pushing, not pressing, just placing the question in front of me as if it were something I could take my time with.
I hesitated.
Not because I didn't have an answer, but because I wasn't sure how to explain it. The thought of joining something, of stepping into a place where people already belonged, where they already knew each other, where I would have to find my place all over again… it felt unfamiliar.
And yet, at the same time, it didn't feel wrong.
So instead of trying to force the right words, I simply nodded.
Himeya watched me for a second, as if confirming that I meant it, before giving a slight nod of his own.
"Then let's go," he said. "I'm sure the senpais are kind."
His tone was calm, matter-of-fact, like this was the most natural next step.
I glanced back toward the gym, where Kousuke's voice could still be heard faintly over the sound of sneakers and bouncing balls.
"But… Kousuke said—"
"Nah," Himeya cut in gently, shaking his head. "That's just how Kousuke says 'see you later.'"
I blinked once.
Then, without realizing it, I let out a small breath.
"…I see."
And just like that, the decision was made.
We left the gymnasium behind, the noise gradually fading as we stepped back into the hallway. The air felt different again, quieter, more contained, as our footsteps echoed softly against the polished floors.
We didn't rush.
Himeya walked at a steady pace, and I matched it naturally, the distance between us neither too close nor too far.
As we moved through the school building, I found myself paying attention to small details. The way sunlight filtered through the windows, casting soft patterns on the floor. The occasional voices drifting from classrooms. The faint scent of chalk and paper that lingered in the air.
It all felt… new.
Even though it shouldn't have been.
Eventually, we reached a quieter part of the building.
The corridor here was calmer, with fewer students passing by, though the doors to several rooms were open, revealing glimpses of different clubs preparing for new members. There were posters taped to the walls, handwritten signs inviting students in, voices calling out softly to anyone who passed.
It really was the first day.
Everything felt active, expectant.
Waiting.
Himeya stopped in front of one of the rooms.
The door was slightly open.
From inside, I could see easels lined up near the windows, canvases resting against the walls, tables scattered with brushes, paint tubes, and sketchbooks. The faint scent of paint drifted out into the hallway, subtle but unmistakable.
The art room.
For a brief moment, I stood there without moving.
Something about it felt… familiar.
Not in a direct way.
But enough to make my chest tighten just slightly.
Then,
"Welcome, welcome."
A voice greeted us warmly from inside.
I looked up.
A girl, clearly older than us, stepped forward with an easy smile. She wore the same school uniform, though hers was layered with a knit vest that gave her a slightly softer appearance. Her hair was a warm shade of brown, almost golden under the light that streamed through the windows behind her, and her eyes, dark and clear, reflected a quiet kind of attentiveness.
She didn't look intimidating.
If anything, she looked… approachable.
"You two must be new students," she said, her tone gentle but lively. "Are you interested in joining the art club?"
There was something in her voice.
Not just politeness.
But hope.
And when I looked past her, I noticed the others inside the room. A few students glanced our way, some pausing in what they were doing, others offering small smiles or quiet waves.
They were all watching.
Not intensely.
But with a shared sense of anticipation.
I felt it.
That quiet expectation.
And before I could gather my thoughts...
"I'm not," Himeya said calmly. "But she is."
I froze.
The way he said it was so straightforward, so certain, that it immediately shifted all attention toward me.
I could feel it.
The room.
The eyes.
The moment stretching just enough to make me aware of my own hesitation.
"…Ah."
The senpai's expression brightened almost instantly.
"I see," she said, her smile softening even more as she took a small step closer. "Then… welcome."
Her gaze met mine directly, but there was no pressure in it.
Just warmth.
"Would you like to come in and take a look first?" she asked. "You don't have to decide right away."
I nodded slowly.
"…Okay."
My voice was quiet, but it didn't waver.
I stepped forward, crossing the threshold into the art room.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
It felt calmer inside.
Quieter, despite the presence of others.
The sunlight poured in through the large windows, illuminating dust particles that drifted lazily in the air. Canvases stood in various stages of completion, some filled with color, others still waiting. Sketches were pinned to boards, lines and shapes overlapping, telling silent stories.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't overwhelming.
It felt… steady.
Like a place where time moved differently.
I walked a little further in, my eyes moving from one piece to another, taking in details without fully realizing it.
And somewhere behind me, I could still sense Himeya standing near the doorway.
He hadn't followed all the way inside.
But he hadn't left either.
The senpai watched me quietly for a moment before speaking again.
"Take your time," she said gently. "Art isn't something you rush into."
Her words settled into the space around me, blending with the quiet atmosphere of the room.
I didn't answer right away.
Instead, I found myself stopping in front of a blank canvas resting on an easel near the window.
It was completely untouched.
Clean.
Waiting.
My gaze lingered on it a little longer than I expected.
And without realizing it, my fingers moved slightly at my side, as if remembering something they hadn't done in a long time.