PEACH BLOSSOM | I Am Your Captive

The bell rings for lunch as Momo sits at his desk, arm propped up for his head to lean on while his classmates gather in conversation around him. From his seat in the back of the classroom, the third-year can’t help but tune out the idle chatter of his peers as his gaze fixates out the window.

There was a certain boy in his class. Every day during lunch, he would leave the classroom and sit by himself under the same tree off to the side of the school. He doesn’t talk to anyone; doesn't seem to have any friends; he’s always alone. His name is Shiro Wolf.

Hair white like snow, and eyes bright as the clear ocean, Shiro was a foreigner whose features always made him stand out from a crowd who didn’t take kindly to him—but Momo was an exception.

“Woah…” Momo muses, muttering, “He seriously looks unreal.”

“Hm? What was that, Momo?” 

“Nothinggg!” he sings, turning back into his seat with his empty boxed juice hanging from his mouth by the straw. But every now and then, he stole glimpses out the window.

Once lunch ended at the next bell, the class went back into session as the third-year students spread out into their assigned seats. The teacher stands in front of the class and clears his throat to begin his announcement. “Alright, class. For the upcoming assignment, you will be put in groups of two. It will be chosen at random by picking numbers, so no complaining.” 

The teacher shakes a tin cup in his hand as the folded papers rattle around inside, and the students come up one by one to pick their number.

Momo draws out the cup and unfolds the small piece of paper.

“Oh. I have the number ‘7’.” 

Momo looks around at his peers. “Who has number seven?”

A hand raises as Momo turns his head. He looks at the white-haired boy named Shiro in the front row, who raises the small folded paper open with the matching number ‘7’ written on it. Momo waited to meet his eyes, but Shiro never raised his gaze from the desk.

And the teacher announces, “Alright, now that you’ve all found your partners, everyone take their seat so we can continue with our lesson....”

✻ ✻ ✻

It’s after school, and Momo is stuffing a handful of french fries in his mouth as he sits in a fast food booth with his classmates.

His classmate looks at him. “Hey! Those are mine!” Momo ignores him and takes another handful, and the classmate just gives up.

Another peer chimes in, “I can’t believe you got partnered up with the school’s White Wolf. I feel so bad for you, Momo!”

Momo tilts his head. “Wolf?” 

“Yeah, the White Wolf of the School. It’s literally in his name,” she says. “That guy is seriously crazy scary! Did you know? I heard he’s in a gang!”

Another adds, “I heard someone saw him with a bunch of scary guys smoking in an alley!”

Momo finishes off the box of fries and casually shrugs his shoulders. “Aren’t these all rumors?”

“I’m telling you, Momo! This guy is bad news. Just look at that hair—those eyes! AH! I’m getting chills just thinking of them! Just be careful, okay? If you ever see him outside of school, you better run!”

Momo was left wondering. “His eyes…?” 

He could only think of the first time he had ever made eye contact with the wolf-like boy. It was only by coincidence. A piercing gaze, yet gentle at the same time. There was something serene, maybe even nostalgic, about the bright ocean hue that contrasted his own dark marble orbs—and he’s wanted to meet them again ever since.

“I thought they were pretty, though.”

By the time the group of high-schoolers left the restaurant, the moon was illuminating the sky along with the stars while the town quieted down. As Momo walked down the sidewalk alone after heading off separately, he waited for the walk sign to turn green when he captured a familiar head of white hair on the other side of the street. 

His peer’s voice echoes in his brain, “If you ever see him outside of school, you better run!”

When the walk light turned green, Momo’s feet stayed planted on the ground as the boy named Shiro made his way over. Walking ahead of him, an elderly woman with her cane crosses at a slower pace. The pedestrian light begins to count down, and Shiro keeps behind the elder. He didn’t say a word, just quietly followed along. 

The street light turns green, and cars begin to honk their horns. Momo absorbs the scene in front of him as the two get across safely. The elderly woman turns toward Shiro and gives him a kind smile. The latter, who was a bit flustered for getting caught, respectfully returns with the bow of his head.

As the elderly woman goes on her way after giving her helper a piece of candy, Shiro walks forward and notices a pair of sneakers standing in front of him. He looks up, and their eyes meet; call it coincidence, or call it fate.

Momo briefly stared at him before shining a smile and reaching out an open hand. He says to him, “Starting today, we’re friends.”