I woke up to a loud knock on the door. "Kenji, we're late! Come on!" It was Ichika, as usual, trying to wake me up again. We always walk to school together, and it's one of the highlights of my day, though it's a bit sad we're not in the same class. I wish we were.
I groggily dragged myself out of bed and opened the door.
"You haven't even dressed yet?! Bro, please hurry up!" she practically yelled at me, panic in her voice. "Class starts in 15 minutes!", getting ready takes at least 20.
"Sorry..." I muttered, hoping she'd just forgive me, though I knew it wasn't enough.
Ichika stared at me for a moment with this soft look, she couldn't possibly be mad at me. "Fine," she said, exhaling in frustration. "Just hurry up, okay?"
I scrambled into the bathroom, still barely awake. When I came out, though, to my surprise, my clothes were already laid out on my bed.
"I checked your closet and prepared your clothes," Ichika said casually, as if it were nothing.
"I did not let you touch my underwear..." I said, feeling a little betrayed. Don't get me wrong, Ichika is my best friend, but there's a line. I wasn't comfortable with her handling my private things without asking, no matter how close we were.
"I didn't touch them directly," she defended.
"Oh... o-okay..." I muttered, not sure if I should be relieved.
"Just dress up already," she said, sounding a bit impatient.
I quickly grabbed my clothes and went back to the bathroom to change. When I came out, Ichika had already prepared my school bag, which, honestly, was kind of nice. She was always so organized, always looking out for me.
We left for school, and as usual, Ichika met some friends on the way. I was left standing there awkwardly, waiting for her. I couldn't help but feel like a shadow when she was with other people. It was like I was just... there. She always had these other connections, and it reminded me that I was never really the center of her world.
"Hey, Ichika, how are you?" I heard someone call from behind.
"Hmm?" Ichika responded, turning to face the voice.
"Ryouji, I'm doing fine, thanks."
I looked up and saw a tall, lean guy with short, messy blonde hair and sharp, piercing blue eyes. He looked like someone who'd spent more time in the gym than in class. 'Ryouji...?' I thought, narrowing my eyes. 'Who is he? Does he know Ichika so well? Why did he call her by her first name? Are they... dating?'
"I was about to say something flirty," Ryouji said with a smirk, "but then I looked at you and forgot everything." His tone was smooth, almost too confident.
Ichika didn't even flinch. "No offense, but I'm not interested," she replied nonchalantly, like it was nothing. It was almost as if she had dealt with this kind of thing before and didn't care one bit.
I felt my stomach twist as I looked between them. Did Ichika know him so well? Were they close? Was I rushing some background character in her life? Ryouji looked at me for a second, sizing me up, and I suddenly felt like he was judging me. Maybe he thought I was Ichika's boyfriend. I didn't like where this was going.
"I promise I'm not trying to steal you away," Ryouji said, looking down at me with an almost smug smile. "That would be unfair. I'd have no competition." He said it with such arrogance, his gaze practically radiating superiority. He was looking down at me, clearly seeing me as beneath him, which, to be fair, I probably was.
But something about that comment made the air grow tense. I could feel the shift in Ichika's expression. Her eyes narrowed, and the smile that had been on her face disappeared. It was like a switch flipped inside her, and I didn't like the way things were heading.
With a sudden, biting calmness, Ichika stepped up to Ryouji and looked him dead in the eye. A few people had gathered by now, drawn in by the rising tension. The whispers around us only added to the heat of the moment. Ichika's voice was as cold as ice when she spoke.
"Are you serious?" she said, her voice ringing with venom. "Do you think I'd ever waste my time with someone like you? You're not just beneath me, you're in a completely different world, one where I wouldn't even lower myself to acknowledge your existence. It's honestly embarrassing that you've been holding on to this pathetic fantasy for as long as you have." She took a step closer, her eyes flashing with disdain. "I wouldn't even touch you if you were the last person on Earth. You're not even worth the air you breathe, and every second I've spent listening to you has been a mistake I'll never get back."
I stood frozen in place, my heart racing. Was this Ichika? The sweet, caring Ichika who was always there for me? She was angry, and this side of her, this cold, brutal side, was something I had never seen before.
"You should be grateful I'm even telling you this," she continued, her voice now low and sharp. "Most people would just ignore you completely, but I'm giving you the harsh truth because I don't want you to keep humiliating yourself. You are a joke, and anyone who would choose you is someone who's completely lost." She paused, letting the words hang in the air before she finished with chilling finality. "So, stop wasting my time. Don't ever come near me again, or you'll regret it. And don't ever call me by my given name, I've never permitted you."
The crowd was silent for a moment. I couldn't even process what had just happened. Was Ichika protecting me? She had always been the calm one, the rational one. But now... I didn't know what to think.
Ryouji stood there, stunned, his confident smirk completely wiped off his face. I could see his pride cracking as he processed Ichika's words. "Okay, pretty girl, I guess I'll try next time." he turned and walked away, the crowd dispersing around us.
Ichika didn't look back at me, didn't even acknowledge me for a moment. She just stood there, as if nothing had happened, as if this was normal. My mind was racing, but before I could say anything, she spoke without even turning to face me.
"Let's just get to school," she said, her tone calm and collected again.
"Ichika, wait!"
I reached out, grabbing her sleeve before she could walk away. She stopped, but she didn't turn around immediately. Instead, she let out a frustrated sigh, staring at the ground for a moment before finally facing me.
"Kenji, I'm sorry you had to see that," she said, her voice quieter than usual. "I honestly hate that guy."
Her usual lighthearted demeanor was gone, replaced by something sharper, something irritated.
I swallowed, still processing what had just happened. "W-who is he...?"
Ichika rubbed her temple, clearly exhausted by the whole ordeal. "He's the 'cute' guy Minami was talking about."
Oh. That guy.
I felt my jaw tighten. "Do you... Know him well?"
"I don't," Ichika said immediately, shaking her head. "But he's been trying to get close to me for weeks now. He's tried like twenty different pickup lines on me, and I just hate it, Kenji. He doesn't take a hint. I don't want him."
Her voice had a sharp edge to it, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.
I felt something twist in my chest, not jealousy, but something close to it. Anger, maybe. Not at Ichika, but at the way this guy had been treating her. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that. Maybe... you should report him?"
She let out a tired breath. "I will. I've been trying to just ignore it, hoping he'd move on, but after today..." Her fingers curled into fists at her sides. "And what he said about you, calling you nothing, that pissed me off, Kenji. I couldn't let it slide."
I blinked, a little surprised. "Ichika..."
"You're not nothing," she said firmly, her eyes locking onto mine. "I don't care what some arrogant guy thinks, he doesn't know you."
Her words hit me harder than I expected, my breath catching slightly. I wasn't used to hearing things like that.
I looked down, feeling a warmth spread through my chest that had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. "T-thank you..."
She smiled, a little softer now, a little less angry. "Anytime."
We parted ways to head to our classes. As I walked, I pulled out my phone and noticed a text from Ayumi.
'Where are you? You're late.'
I winced. Ayumi wasn't the type to send random messages, she told me she wouldn't ever call or text me, which meant she had been paying attention to my absence. That was rare for her.
I quickly typed back:
'2 minutes, I'm at the school.'
She read the message almost immediately, but didn't reply.
I put my phone in my pocket.
I picked up my pace, weaving through the students still lingering in the hallways, until I finally reached my classroom door. I took a deep breath before pushing it open.
The moment I stepped inside, all eyes turned to me.
Ms. Takahashi stopped mid-sentence, her gaze meeting mine, while the rest of the class, some amused, some indifferent, took in the sight of me standing awkwardly in the doorway.
Heat crept up my neck. I hated moments like this.
"Sorry for being late," I muttered, keeping my head slightly down.
Ms. Takahashi didn't seem too upset, at least. She gave me a small smile. "It's okay, just take your seat."
I nodded quickly and hurried to my desk, avoiding eye contact with anyone else.
The lesson finally ended, and I stretched my arms as I got up from my seat. Just as I was about to gather my things, Kudo appeared at my side, grinning as usual.
"Hey, why were you late?" he asked, tilting his head.
I let out a sigh. "Woke up late, so I had to speed-run my way here."
Kudo chuckled. "Man, that sounds rough. Anyways, you betrayed me!"
I glanced at him, already feeling exhausted just thinking about what he had to say. "I'm pretty worn out right now. Maybe later."
Kudo pouted dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like I had betrayed him. "Fine, fine. Guess I'll go find Riku instead."
I nodded. "Okay, have fun."
With that, Kudo strolled out of the classroom, disappearing into the busy hallway. The room felt quieter now, almost empty. Most students had already left to enjoy their break with friends, either heading to the cafeteria or just hanging around in the open areas of the school.
I, on the other hand, stayed behind.
Not because I had nowhere to go, but because Ichika was with her friends.
I sat back down, tapping my fingers on my desk absentmindedly. The distant chatter from the hallway filtered in through the open door, but it felt distant, like background noise in a scene I wasn't part of.
A voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
"Why were you late?"
I turned my head slightly. Ayumi.
She stood next to my desk, her usual neutral expression in place. I wasn't surprised she had noticed, I just didn't expect her to ask about it.
"Oh, Ayumi. I woke up late..." I admitted.
She blinked, then simply said, "Hm. That's okay. Don't do that again."
I let out a small chuckle. "Didn't know you were my alarm clock now."
She didn't respond right away, just shifted slightly on her feet. It was rare for Ayumi to engage in unnecessary conversation, so I took the opportunity to ask something that had been on my mind since earlier.
"Ayumi, you said you wouldn't ever text me, so why did you?"
She paused for a moment, as if considering her answer. Then, crossing her arms, she replied in a flat tone, "Because you were late."
That was it?
I narrowed my eyes. "That's not a real answer."
She tilted her head slightly. "It is to me."
I sighed. Talking to Ayumi was always like this, she only said as much as she wanted to, and getting her to elaborate was like pulling teeth. But still..
She wouldn't have texted me if she didn't care, so I guess she did..
"So, how's your painting going? Have you been working on anything new lately?" I asked, genuinely curious.
Ayumi glanced at me, her expression calm as ever. "It's going fine, thanks."
I hesitated for a moment before adding, "Can I see some of your work?"
She looked at me for a second, as if deciding whether I was serious or not. Then, with a small nod, she gestured to the seat beside her. "Yeah, I'll share some. Come sit nearby."
I moved closer, feeling a little awkward but intrigued. Ayumi was always quiet, always distant, so the fact that she was willing to show me her art felt like a rare invitation into her world.
She pulled out her sketchbook, flipping through the pages slowly. Each piece had a certain depth to it, landscapes painted in soft, blended colors, portraits with striking expressions, abstract shapes that somehow conveyed emotions I couldn't quite put into words.
"Whoa..." I muttered under my breath, leaning in slightly. "These are... amazing."
Ayumi didn't react much, just shrugged. "They're alright."
I frowned. "You say that like they're nothing special. But they are. You've got talent, Ayumi."
She turned a page, avoiding my gaze. "It's just something I do. I don't think too much about it."
I watched as she traced a fingertip over one of her older sketches, the paper slightly smudged from previous strokes. It was a quiet moment, but it felt important, like I was seeing a part of her she didn't usually show people. I also noticed she has lavender color nails.
"You should be proud of this," I said, glancing up at her.
Ayumi let out a small sigh, resting her chin on her palm. "I don't care about being proud. I just like to paint."
I wanted to say more, to push a little further, but I stopped myself. Instead, I just smiled slightly. "Well, for what it's worth, I think your work is really good."
She finally met my eyes, a flicker of something unreadable passing through her expression. Then, almost imperceptibly, the corners of her lips lifted just a bit.
"Thanks, Yamamoto."
"Y'know, y-you can call me Kenji.." I stuttered, feeling a little awkward about suggesting it.
Ayumi barely glanced up from her sketchbook, flipping to a blank page as if my request was just background noise. "I prefer to call you Yamamoto," she replied, her tone casual but firm.
I blinked. "Oh... why?"
She twirled her pencil between her fingers, eyes still focused on the paper. "I don't know. 'Kenji' feels too... personal."
"Oh, I see, sorry if I've made you uncomfortable."
"It's fine, we're just not close enough for me to call you by your first name."
"Yeah, I understand, we're still friends though?"
"Don't worry, we are."
I felt embarrassed getting kinda rejected by Ayumi, but I guess she didn't mind.