The sound of rain tapping on glass woke Arthur before the alarm did.
For a moment, he didn't remember where he was — the ceiling above him was white, smooth, unfamiliar. Then his eyes drifted to the small desk by the wall, where a Japanese calendar hung beside a stack of unopened textbooks. It hit him again: he was in Japan. Akarigawa.
His apartment was small, barely big enough for a bed, a kitchen corner, and a sliding balcony door. But it was his — quiet, simple, his own space. He sat up, brushed the messy blond hair from his face, and looked out the window. The rain blurred the town below into shades of gray and silver.
For a second, he imagined his parents seeing this — his mom teasing him for waking up late, his dad making coffee in the kitchen. Then the thought faded, leaving behind only the sound of water and the hum of loneliness.
Arthur exhaled softly.
"First day, huh?"
He got dressed in the Forest Sunlight High School uniform — navy jacket, white shirt, dark slacks. The clothes fit awkwardly; the sleeves a bit long, the collar slightly tight. But he didn't care much. He tied the red necktie loosely, grabbed his bag, and stepped outside.
The air was cool and clean. Streets lined with vending machines and bicycles stretched out beneath the soft drizzle. Japan looked just like he'd imagined… yet completely different. The animated worlds he'd fallen in love with always showed bright skies and laughter. Here, the sky was muted and heavy, and no one met his eyes as they hurried past under umbrellas.
He walked in silence, shoes tapping softly against wet pavement. Each step carried a small tremor of nervousness — new school, new people, a language he still stumbled through sometimes.
When he reached the school gates, a group of students were already chatting near the entrance. Some glanced at him — the foreigner, the new face — but quickly turned back to their conversations.
He forced a small smile and walked past them, pretending not to notice the whispers.
"Is he half?"
"Looks like it… blond hair, though."
"Probably can't even speak Japanese well."
Arthur caught fragments of it but didn't react. He'd learned long ago that silence was safer.
Inside, the hallways buzzed with energy — shoes squeaking, lockers slamming, laughter echoing. He found his classroom, 2-B, and stepped inside.
The teacher, a woman in her thirties with sharp glasses, paused mid-sentence when she saw him. "Ah, the new transfer student. You must be Arthur Lindström, right?"
He bowed slightly, his Japanese careful but steady. "Yes. It's nice to meet you."
A few students murmured greetings back, others just stared. The teacher gestured toward an empty seat near the window.
"You can sit there. Everyone, please make him feel welcome."
The lesson went by quietly. Arthur barely understood half of it, but he kept taking notes anyway, pretending to follow along. Outside, the rain turned into sunlight, casting soft gold across the classroom floor.
At lunch, a few students invited him to join their group, but the kindness felt forced, the way people are nice just to avoid guilt. So he smiled politely and said he had errands to do. He spent the break on the rooftop instead, leaning against the fence and watching the clouds drift apart.
Below him, the world moved — laughter, shouting, life. Inside him, silence.
He reached into his bag, pulling out a small novel in English. The pages were worn, corners bent. His mother had given it to him years ago — The Little Prince. It was one of the few things he couldn't leave behind.
He flipped it open, tracing the faint handwriting on the first page: "For Arthur — never stop wondering."
He closed it quickly, pressing the book against his chest. The wind carried the smell of rain and sakura trees, even though the blossoms hadn't bloomed yet.
When classes finally ended, Arthur walked home under a fading orange sky. The rain had stopped completely, leaving behind puddles that reflected the sunset. His uniform clung to his shoulders slightly, the damp fabric cooling his skin.
As he turned a corner near a small café, someone called out, "Arthur!"
He looked up.
A girl in the same uniform ran toward him, her short brown hair bouncing lightly with each step. Her smile was soft — genuine, unlike most he'd seen all day.
"Ah— Haruka?" he said, recognizing his cousin.
"Yeah! Uncle said you started school today. How was it?"
He shrugged, trying not to sound too down. "It was fine… just normal."
Haruka tilted her head. "You mean boring."
He chuckled quietly. "Maybe."
They walked together for a while. Haruka talked most of the time — about teachers, clubs, her favorite café nearby. She was warm, kind, and a little clumsy with her words, which somehow made her easier to be around.
When they reached his apartment, she smiled again. "You'll get used to it, Arthur. It's different here, but… not all bad."
He looked at her — really looked — and for the first time that day, he felt something close to warmth.
"Yeah. I hope so."
Haruka waved and headed off. Arthur watched her disappear down the street, then turned toward the fading horizon. The clouds had cleared completely now, revealing a deep blue sky — one he'd never known before, yet somehow… it felt like it was waiting for him.
He unlocked his door, stepped inside, and glanced once more at the small novel on his desk.
The cover caught the last bit of sunlight, glowing faintly — like a memory refusing to fade.
Arthur smiled softly to himself.
"Tomorrow," he whispered, "I'll try again."