-RIKUU ARAKAWA POINT OF VIEW-
-AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE, SAPPORO, HOKKAIDO, JAPAN-
-7:45 AM, NOVEMBER 6, 2017-
I woke up with my shoulders hurting again.
Maybe from yesterday's rough practice with the theatre club. Maybe from other things I'd rather not think about. Either way, pain was familiar — easier to deal with than people.
Aurora Academy of Excellence looked the same as always when I arrived: polished floors, perfect uniforms, and students who looked like they had the world handed to them on a silver plate.
I headed straight to Class 1-A, ignoring the glances, the whispers, the quick looks at the fading bruises on my face. Whatever. I sat down, put my head on my arm, and tried to rest before homeroom.
But the second I closed my eyes…
I felt someone staring.
I lifted my head — slowly.
Across the hallway, through the glass panel of Class 1-B, someone ducked down so fast she nearly hit her desk.
Pink hair.
Ichika Komori.
What the hell was she doing staring into my classroom?
I let out a quiet breath and sat back.
Strange girl.
Classes went on. Usual stuff. Teachers talking. Rich kids pretending to be perfect. I paid attention when I needed to, tuned out when I didn't.
But every time I looked at the doorway…
There she was again.
Ichika, peeking out of 1-B like she was checking if a wild animal had escaped its cage. And the moment our eyes met?
She panicked.
Shut the door.
Or hid behind her textbook.
Or stiffened and looked away like she didn't mean to get caught.
Honestly, it was ridiculous.
By lunch, I was already tired.
I went to the vending machines beside the courtyard — a quiet spot where no one bothered me. I cracked open a can of coffee—
Footsteps.
Light. Careful.
I already knew.
I didn't even turn around. "You following me again?"
Ichika froze mid-step, clutching her bag. "N-No! I'm just… passing by."
"Right."
Her face flared with embarrassment. She looked away, mumbling something to herself. I walked off, and — of course — she followed from a safe distance.
The rest of the day went like that.
Her glancing from the hallway.
Hiding behind her classmates.
Peeking around corners.
Pretending she wasn't looking at me when she obviously was.
And for some reason…
I didn't stop her.
The final bell rang. Students cleared the halls, laughing, walking with friends. I stepped out of 1-A, ready to go home.
Then—
"Arakawa-kun!"
Her voice hit the air like a tiny spark.
Ichika Komori rushed toward me from the corridor of 1-B, her pink hair bouncing, her expression nervous enough to make anyone think she was approaching a celebrity instead of some battered guy from 1-A.
I stopped walking.
She adjusted her bag strap, taking a shaky breath. "I—I have something I want to say."
I raised an eyebrow. "If it's about yesterday in the club—"
"No!"
She shook her head quickly. "Not that. Or… maybe a little. Just—just let me talk."
I stayed silent.
She tried again, voice soft. "Arakawa-kun… you always look tired."
I glanced away. "…So?"
"And you have bruises," she continued carefully. "Not from acting. Not from club practice. They're… different."
I stiffened.
She noticed — and immediately backed off, waving her hands. "S-Sorry! I'm not accusing you or anything! I just… I worry."
"…Worry? About me?"
I almost laughed. "Why?"
Ichika took a slow breath, forcing herself to look me in the eyes.
"Because you're not what people think," she said. "You're quiet. You're distant. But you're not cold. I've seen how you carry your things. How you walk. How you breathe like you're… always tired."
I didn't know what to say.
I didn't want to say anything.
But she kept going.
"Arakawa-kun…" she whispered. "I want to know you better."
A long silence fell between us.
"…Why?" I asked quietly. "Why would you want that?"
Her fingers curled around her skirt. She looked determined — genuinely determined.
"Because," she said softly, "you seem like someone who needs a friend."
I blinked.
Friend.
Someone like me?
She gathered her courage and continued, voice trembling but clear:
"So… Arakawa-kun… can we be friends?"
Time froze.
Students walking behind us blurred into background noise. My heartbeat stumbled. My fists tightened at my sides.
Friends.
No one had asked me that in years.
Not honestly.
Not gently.
Not like it meant something.
I stared at her — really stared — and she stood there, small but brave, waiting for me like I mattered.
"…You're strange," I muttered.
She nodded immediately. "I know."
I almost smiled.
Almost.
I ran a hand through my hair. "Fine. Do whatever you want."
Her eyes widened. "Does that mean…?"
"It means," I said, turning slightly away, "I'm not saying no."
Ichika's expression lit up — bright, warm, like sunlight after snow.
"Thank you, Arakawa-kun."
I clicked my tongue. "Don't thank me."
But she still smiled, clutching her bag close.
And for the first time in a long time…
I didn't mind someone smiling at me.
Not at all.