The Monday lunch break bell rang, and the Class 1-D classroom instantly filled with lively chatter.
Students gathered, taking out their lunch boxes or discussing going to the cafeteria, their laughter and conversations rising and falling.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka still sat by the window.
The outlines of small groups became increasingly clear.
Hirata Yousuke remained busy, moving between several small groups, a gentle smile on his face, trying to maintain some fragile connection.
The trio of Yamauchi Haruki, Ike Kanji, and Sudo Ken were still boisterous, their voices loud.
Several girls gathered, sharing their lunch boxes, their laughter clear and crisp.
Ayanokoji's gaze swept over the solitary figure sitting next to him—Horikita Suzune.
She sat there alone, quietly eating her packed lunch.
Sunlight streamed through the window and onto her, but it couldn't dispel the cold aura that pushed others away.
She seemed to be within an invisible barrier, out of place with the surrounding commotion.
Ayanokoji withdrew his gaze.
He and Horikita were, to some extent, similar—both detached from the class's liveliness.
Hirata Yousuke had privately approached him, hoping he could help ease relations with Horikita, but naturally, he was met with a rebuff.
Horikita's reply was, "I prefer a bit of quiet."
Ayanokoji stood up, ready to go to the cafeteria for lunch. As he stepped out of the classroom door, a clear, pleasant voice sounded behind him:
"Um, you're Classmate Ayanokoji, right?"
Ayanokoji stopped, turning around.
A girl in a burgundy school uniform stood before him.
She had soft, short brown hair with slightly curled ends, and her magenta eyes, like clear jewels, sparkled with friendly yet curious light.
Her appearance was sweet and lovely, and the subtle curve of her chest beneath her school uniform was eye-catching.
It was Kushida Kikyo, the beloved and widely social First Year D student.
"Mm."
Ayanokoji nodded expressionlessly.
"You are... Kushida."
"Oh, good! You still remember my name!"
Kushida Kikyo's face broke into a brilliant smile.
"Mm."
Ayanokoji responded.
"Um, are you free now?"
Kushida Kikyo tilted her head slightly, her magenta eyes looking at him expectantly.
Ayanokoji was silent for a moment before answering, "I'm probably free. I was just about to go eat. What's up?"
"Great!"
Kushida Kikyo's smile grew wider. She stepped forward and naturally took Ayanokoji's wrist.
"Come with me!"
A fleeting hint of surprise flashed in Ayanokoji's eyes, but it instantly reverted to his usual calm expression.
He didn't pull away, allowing Kushida Kikyo to lead him through the bustling corridor and into the end of a relatively quiet corridor where almost no one passed.
"Ayanokoji-kun,"
Kushida Kikyo let go of his hand and turned to face him.
"Are you and Horikita-san... good friends?"
Ayanokoji looked at Kushida Kikyo's expectant face, and the image of Horikita Suzune's icy demeanor flashed through his mind as he calmly replied, "No, I don't think so."
"But it seems like you're the only one who can talk to Horikita-san."
Kushida Kikyo's tone carried a hint of confusion.
She unconsciously clasped her hands together, leaning forward slightly with a girlish bashfulness.
"My goal is to make friends with everyone in the school! So I also approached Horikita-san, wanting her phone number. But she rejected me."
Her voice took on a hint of grievance.
"She said... she wasn't interested in making friends with anyone."
"That's just her personality."
"But..."
Kushida Kikyo suddenly took a step forward and gripped Ayanokoji's hand again.
"I want to be friends with Horikita-san! Classmate Ayanokoji, can you help me? Please!"
The moment Ayanokoji's hand was held, the calm in his eyes was finally broken by a minuscule hint of surprise.
But it was only for an instant before his expression returned to normal.
"I don't know how to help."
"You can't...?"
Kushida Kikyo looked up, her magenta eyes instantly misting over, her long eyelashes trembling slightly as she pleaded with Ayanokoji.
Her pitiful appearance was enough to soften any boy's heart.
Ayanokoji watched her in silence.
After a few seconds, he slowly spoke, "Alright then."
"Wonderful! Thank you, Classmate Ayanokoji!"
Kushida Kikyo's expression of grievance instantly vanished, replaced by a radiant smile, like the sun after rain.
She immediately let go of Ayanokoji's hand, as if her earlier plea and distress had never happened.
"Then, during lunch break, could you ask Horikita-san to meet at..."
She leaned close to Ayanokoji's ear, lowering her voice, and quickly mentioned a place and time.
Ayanokoji nodded expressionlessly, "Got it."
"Then I'm counting on you!"
Kushida Kikyo happily waved her hand, then turned and skipped away, her brown short hair bouncing in the sunlight.
Ayanokoji stood still, watching Kushida Kikyo disappear around the corner of the corridor, then looked down at his hand.
The spot where she had held him seemed to retain a faint warmth.
He withdrew his gaze and turned towards the cafeteria.
The cafeteria was bustling with people.
Ayanokoji quickly finished his lunch and, without lingering, returned to the First Year D classroom.
In the classroom, less than half of the lunch break had passed.
Most students had already finished eating; some were resting with their heads on their desks, while others were chatting in low voices.
Horikita Suzune was still seated at her desk, a thick reference book open before her, her expression focused.
Ayanokoji walked directly to her seat.
Horikita Suzune seemed to sense someone approaching and slightly raised her eyes, her wary gaze sweeping over Ayanokoji's face.
"What do you want?"
"If you're not busy, could you accompany me?"
"Is there some ulterior motive to asking me out?"
"If you really have something to discuss, I can listen."
Horikita Suzune watched him in silence, seemingly judging the truthfulness of his words.
"You know that popular cafe in the shopping center? I'd like you to join me there for a bit."
Ayanokoji added, "I heard Sakamoto is also working there."
Horikita Suzune's gaze flickered, but her expression remained cold, "Why do I have to accompany you?"
"I don't have the courage to enter that kind of shop alone."
Ayanokoji calmly stated his prepared excuse.
"You can find someone else."
Horikita Suzune said coldly, "Though there's no one else for you to find."
"Although it's embarrassing, it's just as you said."
Ayanokoji took over the conversation.
Their gazes briefly met in the air.
Ayanokoji's eyes were calm, while Horikita Suzune's were cold and sharp.
A moment later, Horikita Suzune closed her reference book and stood up, "Let's go."
At the shopping center, the cafe's sign shimmered in the afternoon sun.
Ayanokoji and Horikita Suzune stood outside the cafe.
Through the large floor-to-ceiling glass window, they could see that it was almost full inside.
Students in various school uniforms sat in twos and threes, chatting softly.
"Quite a few people."
Horikita Suzune looked at the crowd inside, her brow slightly furrowed.
"Is this your first time here too?"
Ayanokoji asked casually, then added, "Oh, right, you don't have friends either."
"Are you trying to mock me? How childish."
Horikita Suzune gave him a cold glance.
Ayanokoji didn't retort, his gaze sweeping across the cafe.
Soon, his eyes settled on a figure moving between the tables.
"Sakamoto is working here."
Ayanokoji's voice was flat, devoid of emotion.
Horikita Suzune followed his gaze.
Sakamoto, wearing a neat black Waiter's apron, was smoothly moving between tables, carrying a tray.
His movements were precise and elegant, without the slightest hesitation.
When serving coffee, his wrist would lift slightly, at just the right angle; when responding to customers, he would bow subtly, his posture impeccable.
That composed demeanor made it seem as if he wasn't serving in a noisy cafe, but performing a meticulously choreographed act.
Ayanokoji and Horikita Suzune's gazes lingered on Sakamoto for a moment.
First Year D also had a flamboyant, attention-grabbing individual—Koenji Rokusuke.
But Sakamoto was entirely different from Koenji's exaggerated performance.
Every movement, every posture of Sakamoto's, was fluid and natural, as if ingrained in his bones, becoming an instinctive part of his body.
That elegance and composure carried an inherent grace that made one feel... he was simply born to be that way.