I watched the transfer student, Naim Aidan, retreat to his window seat like our conversation—and Kazama's light provocation—had never happened. He rejected my offer to eat lunch with our group, and that quiet refusal somehow made him even more intriguing. Our group conversation resumed, but I found myself stealing glances at him more than once. A quiet smile tugged at my lips.
What an interesting, annoying dummy.
Before long, sharp footsteps echoed briskly down the hall. Reina Matsuda—our English teacher—entered with her usual severe gaze sweeping across the classroom. We all rose automatically, the atmosphere immediately chilling, as if a string had been pulled controlling all our movements. Matsuda-sensei didn't even need to speak; she just radiated "focus or die."
Her eyes paused briefly on Aidan, but she didn't linger. Not even for a second. It was as if she had already assessed him earlier and found him sufficiently orderly.
Matsuda-sensei wasn't old—mid-twenties, maybe—but her rectangular glasses and the clipped precision in her movements made her feel older, stricter, and terrifyingly efficient. During the lesson, she caught Aidan staring out the window and snapped at him to focus.
He just offered her that polite, infuriatingly composed nod.
Honestly, does anything ever make him flinch? Or is he just that good at hiding behind that annoyingly calm façade?
The bell rang, ending second period and signaling lunch break. This time, everyone rushed out immediately, as if the room itself were suddenly on fire. Kazama, predictably dramatic, grabbed Kazuki Nishimura by the wrist and hauled him toward the hallway.
"Let's go, Nishimura-san. I'm starving," he groaned dramatically.
I love how Nishimura never fights him. As usual, the four of us—Kazama, Nishimura, Hikari Kimura, and me—headed to the cafeteria together. We'd been inseparable since second year, and now that we were all in the same class again, nothing had changed.
We settled into our usual spot, trays lined up neatly on the table. Conversations flowed—mundane topics that came and went without much weight. As always, Kimura, the most devious among us, was the one who derailed things with sudden, unavoidable questions.
"So…" She slammed her palms onto the table—not hard enough to spill my green tea, thank goodness. "What do you guys think about the new guy?"
Kazama grunted, still chewing his ramen. "I'm not fond of people who look like they're uninterested in life." His eyes never left his bowl.
Before anyone could respond, Kimura leaned forward eagerly, her curiosity immediately piqued. "Isn't he quiet like you, Nishimura?" she teased.
Nishimura let out a soft, shy laugh, quickly looking down. "Maybe. But he seems… calm. I'm just shy around people I'm not familiar with."
Uninterested in anything?
That's Kazama's words kicking in again. He only sees what's directly in front of him. I sipped my iced green tea, letting the cool liquid settle my thoughts before pressing further. "Kazama-san, what do you mean by 'uninterested look'?"
He snorted. "Did you see his eyes? He looks like he hasn't slept in years. Plus he doesn't seem like he wants to make friends."
It's true his eyes look tired, but that's just his natural look, dummy. It doesn't mean anything about his personality.
I didn't reply, returning to my bento. Kimura, of course, found the topic far more entertaining than it should have been. "I bet he sleeps in class right now," she giggled.
Soon our conversation shifted back to football—Kazama's selection day was coming up in two days, and we decided to go support him on Wednesday. After finishing lunch, we headed back toward the classroom for the final period.
We walked past the courtyard near the cafeteria when something caught my eye.
Aidan was sitting alone on a bench beneath a small tree, eating his bento quietly, expression unreadable. He looked like a statue carved out of perfect calm. I slowed my pace without realizing it, my gaze fixed on him.
Don't you feel lonely, even a little bit?
He didn't look lonely at all. He looked utterly, completely content. Maybe that's the difference. Some people don't need the chaos of a group to be happy.
Nishimura pulled me back to reality with his gentle voice. "Something on your mind, Haru-san?" He slowed his steps to match mine, his round eyes full of quiet concern.
"No, not at all, you dummy. Just enjoying the courtyard breeze," I replied with a warm smile, giving his shoulder a light, affectionate tap.
The four of us headed back toward our classroom. As we reached the back door, Kimura, who had clearly been anticipating this moment, broke the quiet.
"Damn, I lost the bet. He's not here sleeping," she muttered dramatically, sounding both amused and disappointed.
Kazama snorted, dismissing the topic quickly. "Nah, he probably wandered off somewhere else." He slid into his seat quicker than the rest of us, clearly eager to relax.
I settled into my chair and leaned comfortably against the backrest. Nishimura immediately turned his chair around to face my desk, Kimura twisted in her seat to look at me, and Kazama laid his head on his folded arms, all of them naturally forming a protective, comfortable circle around me.
It's always like this. Like I'm the vibrant center of the group, and they gravitate right here. I love this feeling of belonging.
We drifted into talking about our second year—how we met, how our group formed. Midway through our laughter, slow, steady footsteps approached from behind us.
That must be him. Odd… I thought he'd use the front door to maximize the distance from us, his annoying classmates.
Nishimura and Kimura both stole a curious glance over my shoulder. Even without looking, I could feel the quiet, unassuming energy of Naim Aidan passing our row.
I glanced briefly.
Aidan walked calmly along the window aisle as if no one existed around him, moving with that quiet, almost arrogant composure of his. He slid into his seat without a word, simply retreating into his space.
Kimura giggled softly, highly entertained by his lack of interaction. "And there he goes."
Nishimura leaned forward, his curiosity overcoming his shyness. "So… do you think he's like me, Haru-san? He seems quiet, too."
Similar in quietness, maybe. But you, Kazuki, are shy and gentle. He feels… insulated. Like he doesn't need people at all.
I opened my mouth to answer, relying on my gut feeling, but Kazama beat me to it with a loud snicker. "Nah. Nishimura-san here was a shy little kitten back in second year. This guy is just… weird."
We all burst into light laughter. I tried to glance more obviously at Aidan, but as usual, he seemed completely oblivious to everything around him—eyes fixed outside the window, watching the trees.
What's so interesting out there, you dummy? It's just leaves.
Our chatter faded when Asahi Sawada entered the room—our physics teacher, energetic as ever. He used to be our homeroom teacher last year, and he always bantered loudly with Kazama, since he also coached the school football team.
We stood to greet him, then settled. His sharp eyes landed immediately on Aidan.
"New boy," Sawada-sensei said, leaning against his desk, "what do you find different between Japan and Malaysia?"
Aidan rose with his usual quiet composure and answered in that low, steady voice. "Nothing much. But it's more… organized here. Back home, things are more fluid, I guess."
The class murmured at his unusual, analytical phrasing. Sawada-sensei blinked, visibly surprised by the maturity of the observation, then motioned for him to sit before beginning the lesson.
Throughout class, Aidan occasionally glanced outside the window again. This time, I noticed a subtle shift; something softer, a momentary slump in his shoulders, flickered across his defined face—something that looked distinctly like homesickness.
Did that question hit you harder than you let on, Naim? Did it remind you of the 'fluidity' you left behind?
Sympathy? Curiosity? I wasn't sure which feeling was stronger, but the observation made him feel suddenly less like a statue and more like a person. I hadn't even realized I was staring until Kimura gently tapped my arm.
"You keep glancing at him," she whispered, grinning, her voice devious. "Don't tell me you're finding him interesting."
I shook my head quickly, my cheeks feeling suddenly warm, and gave a sharp, immediate denial. "No… no, dummy! Just intrigued by his actions, that's all."
Kimura didn't push it—surprisingly. She turned back to her notes, humming softly.
But me? No matter how hard I tried to focus on the formulas Sawada-sensei was writing on the board, my attention drifted again and again toward that quiet silhouette by the window.
And it stayed that way until the final bell rang.
When the bell rang, everyone rose in unison to bow politely to Sawada-sensei. As usual, the room filled with the familiar rustle of bags and zippers. Our group gathered our things together, and Kazama stretched loudly, cracking his neck.
"I need a rest. Let's go," he grumbled, slinging an arm around Nishimura and dragging him out first, completely ignoring the noise he was making. Kimura pushed up from her chair, following them with her usual bouncy steps.
"Come on, Akari…" she called, her voice bright and free of honorifics—a unique habit that only she could pull off without sounding rude.
I stood and gave one last, necessary glance in Aidan's direction. He was already on his feet, slipping his messenger bag over his shoulder, but he was patiently waiting for the crowd to thin before moving. Always waiting. I turned back toward Kimura, quickening my steps until I fell into pace beside her.
"Akari, going straight home as usual? Or want a girls' hangout today?" she asked, noticing me beside her.
"Nope. I need to cook for Sora," I answered gently. She knew my routine perfectly—nothing new there.
We'd been friends since our first year. People often thought Kimura was rude for dropping honorifics, but to me, that blunt sincerity was exactly what made her special. It was her relentless curiosity in our second year that eventually pushed me and Nishimura together.
When we reached the bottom of the stairs and entered the hallway toward the school entrance, I instinctively glanced back—
Aidan was a few steps behind us.
Without even thinking, I slowed my pace until I was walking right beside him. It was an involuntary, social instinct.
I tilted my head up slightly, suddenly aware of the difference.
I didn't notice he was this tall…
Maybe not Kazama's height, but definitely taller than me and Nishimura.
He didn't acknowledge me. Not a glance, not a shift in his pace. Just kept walking with that same calm indifference, making me feel like a noisy insect.
Come on… say something. Don't look nervous. Just be polite.
I opened my mouth—
—but he subtly sped up, or maybe I slowed down again, missing the rhythm. Either way, he stepped ahead and walked straight out of the building, leaving me behind.
That infuriating dummy…
Before I could stop myself, my voice slipped out, higher than intended. "Naim-san… wait up!"
Why did I use his first name? Does he even have a Japanese-style surname?
My tongue always moves before my brain!He stopped and turned, facing me with that low, calm voice.
"Yeah? What is it, Harukawa?" The tone was similar to Nishimura's, but without the gentle warmth. It was just flat, steady information delivery.
Kimura, having heard my loud call, skipped toward us with a massive grin, sensing drama. I quickly recovered, gesturing toward Kimura as I asked, "Nothing much. Would you like to walk home with us?"
Aidan glanced briefly at Kimura, assessing the two of us, before answering. "Which direction do you go after the school gate?"
Kimura replied quickly, eager to participate. "Right. Toward Hommura District."
Aidan stood still for a moment—right hand holding the strap of his messenger bag, the left tucked casually into his pocket. Calm, unreadable.
"Thanks for the offer," he said quietly. "But I take the left turn. It's closer to where I live." He turned and, without waiting for a reply, walked away.
That's the second time you rejected me, you cold dummy.
Kimura suddenly laughed loudly beside me, wrapping her arm around mine dramatically, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Shoot—we got rejected! He's definitely not a people person, Akari."
I didn't answer her immediately. We just continued walking together, but I kept glancing at his quiet silhouette until he turned left outside the school gate. I brushed myself out of lingering over him, knowing he was probably already thinking about his next analytical problem. Kimura and I lived not too far from each other, so we chatted until I reached my street. I waved her off and walked toward my house.
After changing into comfortable clothes, I began preparing dinner. My little brother, Sora, burst in not long after, loud as always. "Big sis, I'm home!"
"Yeah, don't forget to take a bath, you messy dummy," I said, glancing at him.
First day of middle school and already he looked so full of energy. He tossed his bag carelessly on the couch and wandered into the kitchen.
"Big sis, I made a new friend! His name is Takumi Yoshida." He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.
"Good for you. Is he as energetic as you?" I teased, ruffling his hair.
He didn't even complain, which was rare. "Yeah… he kept telling me about his new older brother."
New? What does that even mean? Is Takumi the little brother of someone?
Sora headed toward the bathroom, then predictably tossed his uniform on the floor. "Sis, I forgot my towel!"
Suppressing a sigh, I went to his room, fetched the towel, and placed it on the washing machine.
"I left your towel outside," I called. Then, I returned to cooking, the rhythmic chopping of vegetables restoring my calm.
Dinner finished. Sora ate well. I showered, slipped into comfy clothes, finished my homework, then collapsed onto my bed. I could hear my parents return home, chatting quietly as they ate the meal I made.
Tiring… but I don't mind. I like taking care of them.
My phone buzzed—a message from Nishimura. Can you make me bento tomorrow, Haru-san?
A small, affectionate smile slipped onto my face.
Sure… see you tomorrow. I texted back.
Satisfied, I placed my phone down, sank into my blankets, and let sleep take me.
Next day, the morning sunlight spilled across my face, warm and familiar. The soft beep of my alarm was more like a gentle suggestion than a demand. I rose slowly, stretching out the last traces of sleep with a satisfied groan, and headed to the kitchen. I really did thrive in the daylight; my routine felt like my armor.
I quickly prepared breakfast for my family, then packed two bentos—one neat, perfectly arranged meal for Nishimura, and one for myself.
After that, I hurried into the bathroom, letting warm water ease away the soreness from yesterday. I always felt different between day and night; daytime was my comfort zone. I could plan, socialize, and move neatly through my routine without my thoughts becoming a mess.
Once I finished dressing in my uniform and applying a light layer of makeup, I grabbed my backpack. On the way out, I nudged Sora awake.
New day… and a bento for Nishimura. Can't wait.
I smiled my way toward school, but stopped when I spotted Naim Aidan just entering through the gate. He moved like a quiet stream—smooth, deliberate—never bumping into anyone, even with the morning crowd swirling around him. Students still turned to look at him; he carried that distinct, unfamiliar aura of a newcomer.
I quickened my steps until I was walking right beside him. Tilting my head slightly, I greeted him with my usual ease. "Hey… morning."
He glanced at me calmly, his amber eyes briefly meeting mine, and answered in a soft tone. "Morning…"
He's not much of a talker, is he? Such a quiet, composed dummy. I wonder if that infuriating wall of his can ever be cracked.
I didn't push for more. The silence between us felt unexpectedly comfortable, though.
There was something small—but telling, and surprisingly considerate—about him: whenever the hallway became crowded, he would instinctively step slightly ahead and tap a shoulder or two to clear space for me. He did it without looking back, without making it obvious, a subtle action that belied his usual indifference.
Does he just treat all people like obstacles to be managed? Or is that a genuine gesture?
When we reached the classroom, he stepped in first and headed straight to his seat, taking out a novel. We were early—only a handful of students around.
I placed Nishimura's bento neatly under his desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Aidan glance at me, as if studying my movement for a brief second, before returning to his quiet reading.
My relationship with Nishimura is obvious to the whole class, yet seeing Aidan glance at the bento made me feel strangely uneasy.
Why do I care if the most uninterested dummy in the class notices my relationship?
A few minutes later, Kimura arrived, followed by Nishimura and Kazama. We slipped easily into our usual morning chatter. Kimura's eyes sparkled when she saw the bento under Nishimura's desk.
"Look at that—we should give the sweet couple some alone time, right, Kazama?" She tapped her shoe rhythmically, thoroughly teasing him.
Kazama yawned, stealing a quick glance at Nishimura. "Yeah, sure. I'll hang out with the football guys today."
Nishimura's gentle smile warmed his expression. "Thanks, you two."
I didn't join the teasing—I just messed up Nishimura's already-messy hair.
I love how our group understands each other so easily, but the strange part is how much more challenged I feel when I'm around Aidan.
Why does he make everything complicated?
Class went on as usual. First period: Mathematics. Second: Biology. Some students took notes diligently; others drifted off into their own worlds.
Right before Biology ended, Takeda-sensei asked us to form groups of five. She was a senior teacher—calm and composed, always giving students the freedom to choose their teammates.
As we looked around for a fifth member, Kimura—as always—jumped ahead, eager to explore the possibility.
"How about asking him?" She jerked her chin toward Aidan.
To my surprise, Kazama agreed immediately, ever the socializer. "Yeah, I don't mind. Might as well try to include the guy."
Nishimura nodded with a soft smile. "Go ahead and ask him, Kimura-san."
But Kimura didn't move. She looked at me instead—waiting for my decision, sensing my tension.
I stole a glance in Aidan's direction, then said quietly, "Let's wait… maybe he'll ask us."
Why did I say that? Deep down I desperately want him to join us, but I don't want to be rejected again.
He already rejected me twice. If he wants to join… he should come to us first. He needs to show some initiative.
Besides, he hasn't really talked to anyone else yet. Maybe he's waiting.
But before any of us could act—
Rin Uchida, a popular girl known for her quiet efficiency, approached him. She asked him to join her group. And he agreed.
Thud.
A small, sharp thud echoed in my chest, completely unexpected.
Jealousy? No, impossible. Uchida-san is boring! And I barely know him! So what is this weird, suffocating feeling, you stupid dummy? Why can't I just name it?
Nishimura followed my gaze and cut through the silence gently. "Hm… seems he already has a group. What now, Haru-san?"
Kazama hardly looked bothered. "Let's just ask Yamagi-san behind Haru-san. She's annoying but smart."
Kimura moved quickly, the crisis of finding a fifth member averted, and brought her into our group. Meanwhile, I remained oddly quiet, my thoughts swirling, until the bell rang. We all rose, bowing respectfully to Takeda-sensei.
But the strange, sharp weight in my chest… lingered.
Together with Nishimura, I made my way up to the rooftop—our quiet refuge, a place students rarely visited unless they were looking for privacy. A few couples were already scattered around, absorbed in their own little worlds, enjoying the peace. We sat at the edge near the fence, the breeze brushing lightly against us as we opened the bentos.
"This is really good, Haru-san." Nishimura spoke softly, still chewing, his gentle demeanor radiating stability.
I leaned my back against the fence, letting out a teasing laugh. "Glad you like it. You should eat more, you skinny dummy?"
He didn't mind the joke. He just smiled shyly and continued eating, a perfect picture of contentment.
How did I end up with Nishimura?
It wasn't his soft features, though they were handsome—it was his effort, the way he gathered all his shy courage at the end of second year to tell me how he felt.
He was shy but not quiet—not around us. He only retreated when speaking to people he didn't know well. A complete contrast to Aidan, who was quiet even when you addressed him directly.
My eyes drifted over the rooftop and, instinctively, toward the courtyard below. There he was—standing alone in front of the vending machine, studying the drink options like he had all the time in the world, completely unbothered.
Without thinking, my abstract thinking already forming a plan, I tilted my head toward Nishimura. "Do you want something to drink? Let's go to the courtyard vending machine."
Nishimura looked up with his usual gentle smile. "You go ahead. I'll stay here—I already have matcha."
I stood up slowly, feeling a sudden rush of energy. "Alright. Wait here. I'll be back soon."
I trotted down the stairs, skipping the last few steps, propelled by my curiosity until I reached the courtyard. When I approached the vending machine, Aidan was still there, quietly counting coins in his hand.
"Didn't expect you to be here," he said calmly, not even turning around. It was a statement of fact, not a question. "Want something to drink?"
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I moved beside him and leaned my shoulder against the machine, looking directly at him and forcing the issue. Only then did he glance at me before inserting his coins. Two cans of green tea clattered down. He crouched slightly, picked them up, then held one out toward me.
"Here." Soft voice. Eyes steady. Unreadable.
No. This time, I won't let you slip away that easily, you quiet dummy.
"If you want me to take this," I said cheerfully, my tone assertive, "join us for lunch tomorrow."
To my absolute surprise, he agreed immediately, without pause or hesitation "Sure."
Just like that.
I froze for a moment, staring at the can extended to me. I grabbed it, utterly flustered and unable to form a proper response.
No way… he really agreed? After two direct rejections?
Before I could gather my thoughts, his voice cut gently between us, signaling the end of the interaction.
"Until next time, then." He gave me one last calm look before heading toward the benches under the small tree.
"You can't take back your word, you know," I called out, the smile I couldn't hide making my voice sound breathless.
He looked over his shoulder and nodded once—quiet, certain.
Only then did I finally turn away and hurry back up to the rooftop. The can of green tea felt warm in my hand.
Somehow, without reason or logic… I felt happy.