The old man stood by the window longer than necessary.
Outside, schoolchildren walked in small groups, their laughter spilling faintly into the street. Their uniforms were neat, their steps casual, their voices full of life. Vinz watched silently, the reflection of his wrinkled face faint in the glass — eyes tired, hair thinned by time, but still searching for something that no longer seemed to exist.
Emotions. They had always been the puppeteers. Humans danced without realizing it — joy, fear, love, anger. Strings pulled from everywhere, and he had been dancing too long.
And then, just like that, a memory surfaced.
Morning sunlight warmed the path to school, but Vinz felt the weight of the air heavier than usual. He walked slowly, bag hanging lightly on one shoulder. He liked walking alone — it gave his thoughts space to stretch, to breathe at their own pace.
"Heya, Vinz!"
A hand landed on his shoulder from behind, shaking him slightly.
"Don't go idle while walking," said a cheerful voice.
Vinz sighed. "You'll cause an accident someday."
Akira grinned, stretching his arms behind his head. "I'm just keeping you from overthinking again."
"Another year with you," Vinz muttered. "I'll be dealing with a lot of trouble."
"Without me, you'd just be a shadow in class," Akira replied, smirking.
"That sounds peaceful."
"You're one hell of an arrogant brat, you know that?"
The two of them continued walking — loud and quiet, careless and measured — neither realizing how much this year would change them.
The classroom board read Class 1-A.
Akira's eyes lit up. "Same class again! Fate loves us."
Vinz gave a small nod. "Or it's punishing me."
They took their seats as the teacher entered.
"I'm Nayano," she said. "I'll be your homeroom teacher this year. Let's start with introductions."
One by one, students introduced themselves. Names, hobbies, laughter, small quirks.
Then it was Vinz's turn.
He stood.
"My name is Vinz Ukatami," he said quietly. "I transferred here this year."
That was all.
Silence. Brief, normal silence.
Then a careless voice broke it.
"Ukatami... isn't that the guy whose father... murdered a rich man?"
Another student whispered, louder than needed. "Yeah, he stabbed him multiple times, right?"
The air tightened. Eyes shifted — not in curiosity, but in caution.
Vinz felt the dull ache rise at the back of his head. He looked straight ahead, expression unchanged.
"Enough," Teacher Nayano said sharply. "This is a classroom, not a court. Sit down."
The whispers subsided, but the distance remained. Vinz was used to that silence — the one that followed his name like a shadow.
Lunch break arrived, but relief did not.
Desks moved, groups formed, conversations blossomed everywhere except around him.
Akira slapped his desk. "Let's eat."
Vinz nodded.
At the cafeteria, they ordered their food, but a student called Akira away to meet a teacher.
"You should go," Vinz said. "I'll manage."
Tray in hand, Vinz headed to the school balcony — a place few visited. Not for solitude, but so others could feel more comfortable without him.
The breeze brushed his face as he sat down.
And then he saw her.
A girl, silver-haired, sitting alone. She gazed at the sky quietly, lost in her own thoughts.
Vinz froze.
It's her.
He had seen her earlier, just for a second, and she had vanished like a ghost.
He stared. Too long.
She turned her head. "Why are you staring at me like you saw a ghost?"
"I... I saw you before," Vinz said awkwardly. "Your hair... it's beautiful."
She looked away. "I don't like it."
There was no anger, only a faint sadness in her eyes.
They began talking — lightly at first, then deeper, about why they chose the school, the way students act, and small things that seemed meaningless but felt important.
"Mizuki Haruko," she said when he asked her name.
The bell rang. "Time for class," she said, leaving him with a warmth he had not expected.
Meanwhile, Akira confronted another student.
"Why are you always with Vinz? The murderer's son?"
Akira's face went emotionless. "None of your business."
"What if he attacks you?"
"Then it's my problem."
The student stepped back, unnerved.
Akira walked away, memories flooding back:
A day when Vinz was bullied, classmates shouting "murderer!"
Times when objects went missing and Vinz was blamed
Instances where people whispered rumors about him
He remembered one day he himself had been accused of something suspicious in class — something he didn't do.
Vinz had calmly handled it.
Cleared his name.
"Why did you help me when you didn't have to?" Akira had asked later.
Vinz had looked at him calmly. "You never bullied me. I always saw you wanted to help but were scared. I think you're kind — that's enough reason."
Akira finally found the balcony.
He stopped.
Vinz was smiling. Not forced. Not polite. A real smile.
Akira didn't move. Some moments deserved to stay untouched.
The bell rang again.
Later, Akira jumped behind him. "So... who made you smile like that?"
Vinz scowled, pouting in a mix of anger and humor. "You're imagining things."
Akira laughed. "Sure, sure."
Their voices echoed down the hall, the quiet strings of emotions pulling them both forward.