Fortunately, the nearest coffee shop wasn’t far away but Nishimoya looked kind of distressed. Like her was stomach churning.

‘Right, she’s lying with her parents again to hang out with me. If her parents give her grief about it later, it’d definitely be my fault.’

My selfishness was undeniably the reason behind her actions, thinking of that, my heart ached. It was something I despised. 

What was I thinking? 

I should've thought ahead. Realized my faults. Understood my mistake before even I allowed to happen.

Staring at the state she was in, I couldn’t help but let a thought slip into my mind.

‘I’m a really terrible friend.’

I turned my head to the street in front of me.

I saw people passing by, pets, shops, cars, and many more trivial things.

But I wasn’t really in the mood to cherish them as much as I should’ve.

Instead, I thought back to the past.

A while back, about four years ago, when Nishimoya and I first met.

At the time, we both were in 5th grade.

On that day, I had been particularly uninterested in the lesson we were being taught.

That, combined with not getting enough sleep the night before, caused me to fall asleep like a moron.

You see, I wasn’t a really good kid.

I wasn’t particularly intelligent or good at socializing, in fact I might’ve been below average at those things.

The only thing I was slightly above average at was running and I wasn’t even the fastest in my grade.

Plus, I wasn’t really nice or polite so I got in trouble with my teachers every once in a while.

I probably would’ve gotten in trouble again if someone didn’t wake me up.

“Psst, wake up,” a voice whispered into my ear.

My eyes slowly opened and I was met with the sight of a girl.

Black hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and a serious expression.

The girl was Nishimoya.

At the time, I hadn’t really spoken to Nishimoya very often.

I didn’t see her hanging around with anyone and she always had her nose deep in a book. Or she was doing whatever we were assigned in class.

When I sat next to her she never really smiled or talked much.

She probably didn’t even notice me at all before that day. But I knew her.

A person always studying or writing. A person who stayed focused and dedicated no matter what distraction was happening nearby. 

A person who had the diligence I lacked.

A person who impressed me more than anyone else.

The hardest working person I knew.

That was who Nishimoya Nishikori was to me.

And as I lifted my head from the desk, I thanked her.

“Thank you,” I said.

“You are welcome,” she said, still directing her attention to the lesson.

“Hey Nishimoya,” I said, causing her eyebrow twitch when I did.

“Yes?” She responded, this time with a hint of annoyance.

“Do you wanna be my friend?” I asked.

I’m not sure why, but when I asked her that, her face froze.

She stayed like that for a couple of seconds before turning her head to me for the first time after waking me up.

“Are you serious?” She asked with eyes that seemed almost pleading.

“Um, yeah. I am,” I replied, not really understanding her behavior.

“Yes…” Nishimoya began.

“...please make me your friend.”

That was a moment I could never forget, because it was the time where I made a precious friend.

She had changed a lot since then, and in many ways you say she had become a totally different person.

But whether it was her from the 5th grade or 9th grade, Nishimoya was my friend.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Elliot? Are you okay?” A voice spoke.

‘Oh crap, I got lost in my thoughts.’

Realizing where I was, I snapped out of my reflection time and paid attention to what was in front of me.

‘Ah, right. This was the coffee shop.’

“Yeah I’m good, let’s head inside,” I said to Nishimoya before walking inside the building.

And hopefully, I’d finally get to figure out what’s been going on with Nishimoya.