From that moment, Ren couldn’t stop thinking about Aki.

Even in class, his eyes wandered toward the boy beside him.

Even when the teacher called on him, he’d sometimes forget to answer.

Not because Aki was loud or attention-seeking.

But because...

> “He looks like a still painting when he’s not speaking... but on the piano, he comes alive.”

He’d caught Ren’s attention completely—and not in the usual way.

---

Ren found Aki sitting alone with his earphones in, looking at the sky.

> “You always eat alone?” Ren asked, sitting beside him without invitation.

Aki looked at him sideways, surprised but silent.

> “I figured you’d ignore me again,” Ren said, smirking.

“I didn’t ask you to sit here,” Aki replied flatly.

“Ouch. That’s cold. Do you hate people that much?”

Aki shrugged. “Not really. I just don’t like... noise.”

> “Then it’s a good thing my voice is kind of sexy,” Ren teased, grinning.

Aki blinked and looked away quickly.

“You’re annoying.”

Ren leaned back and stared at the clouds.

> “Maybe. But you’re interesting. I want to get to know you, Aki.”

Aki turned slowly toward him.

> “Why? You’re popular. You have enough people around you.”

Ren’s smile faded, and he spoke quietly.

> “Yeah… but sometimes it feels like no one really sees me.”

Aki didn’t respond, but his eyes softened.

They sat in silence for a while, the kind of silence that didn’t feel heavy.

---

As the wind blew gently, Ren turned toward Aki again.

He wasn’t smiling now—he was just watching, quietly, curiously.

> “Why can’t I stop staring at him?”

“Why do I want to hear him play again?”

> “Aki,” Ren said, his voice lower this time.

“Can we… be friends?”

Aki looked at him, surprised. But instead of rejecting it, he simply nodded.

> “We’ll see.”

Ren chuckled. “Fair enough.”

But inside, something new had already begun—

a pull he didn’t fully understand yet.