-AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE, SAPPORO, HOKKAIDO, JAPAN-
-2:10 PM, NOVEMBER 2, 2017-
The courtyard thinned out as the school day officially faded into afternoon. Frost shimmered along the benches, and soft patches of snow drifted across the courtyard stones as students hurried toward their rides.
Ichika Komori stood still, her heart quietly racing.
The boy she had bumped into—the red-eyed boy who wandered through her thoughts since last night—was already walking away, hands in his pockets, moving with that same disinterested calm.
His uniform was slightly loosened at the collar. His backpack hung on one shoulder. His messy gray hair brushed lightly against the cold breeze.
He didn't look back.
Ichika hesitated only a second before her voice escaped her.
"W–wait!"
He stopped mid-step.
Didn't turn.
Didn't answer.
But he stopped.
Ichika swallowed gently, her voice almost trembling.
"…What's your name?"
A long second passed.
Then—
"…Rikuu. Rikuu Arakawa."
The name was spoken plainly, with no intention of lingering in the air. He still didn't face her, but his voice was unmistakably clear against the cold.
Ichika felt her heartbeat quicken.
Trying to steady herself, she bowed her head lightly, fingers tightening around her bag strap.
"I… I'm Ichika. Ichika Komori."
This time, he turned slightly—enough for her to see his red eyes beneath the falling snow. His gaze was sharp, calm, unreadable.
"…I know," he said quietly.
Ichika blinked, surprised. "Y–you do?"
Rikuu looked away, adjusting his backpack strap again.
"You're well-known in Sapporo," he muttered. "Hard not to know who you are."
Not admiration.
Not annoyance.
Just a fact, delivered without emotion.
Ichika felt her cheeks warm despite the cold air.
Trying to steady her voice, she added softly:
"Arakawa… are you heading home?"
At the mention of his last name, his eyes flicked to hers again. Not startled. Not offended. Just faintly aware.
"…Yeah," he answered quietly.
He stepped back a little, distancing himself with the same effortless detachment she'd seen before.
"You should go home too," he murmured. "It's getting cold."
Snow drifted around them, soft and weightless.
Ichika stood still, watching him walk toward the academy's side gate, each step slow, steady, solitary.
He didn't turn back.
But Ichika did—once, twice, searching for his silhouette even after it disappeared into the pale haze.
Her heart fluttered with something unfamiliar.
She didn't understand why his name mattered so much.
Why hearing "Rikuu Arakawa" felt like it settled gently inside her.
Why speaking "Arakawa" aloud made her chest tighten just slightly.
All she knew—
was that something had begun.
Quietly.
Unexpectedly.
Delicately.
Snow fell like soft whispers across the campus as Ichika murmured to herself for the first time:
"…Arakawa."
A name now etched into the white canvas of her winter.