Haru stared out the window, the early spring sunlight filtered through the soft haze of morning. Outside, the school courtyard stirred with students catching up after break — laughter, greetings, footsteps — all too loud in his ears.

He didn’t mind the noise itself.

It was the inclusion in it that scared him.

He turned his eyes back to his desk. The same corner seat, second from the window. Familiar. Safe.

His hand absentmindedly traced the edge of his textbook. Another day. Another loop. Study, nod, avoid eye contact, return home. Repeat.

The classroom door slid open.

Chatter shifted as a figure stepped in. New shoes, new uniform, unfamiliar presence.

Aika.

She stood beside the teacher — poised but not stiff. There was no visible nervousness in her posture, no forced smile. Just calmness. Like a breeze passing through.

“This is Aika Fujimura. She transferred here from Kyoto,” the teacher introduced. “Let’s welcome her.”

Polite claps filled the room. Haru looked up just briefly.

Aika bowed slightly, then scanned the room. Her eyes didn’t linger on anyone. But for a heartbeat, they passed over him.

He dropped his gaze.

She was assigned a seat two rows ahead of him, closer to the front. From his angle, he could only see the side of her face — neat hair tucked behind one ear, calm expression, quietly absorbing her surroundings.

The teacher resumed class. Time crawled.

Lunch break.

Haru stayed at his desk, as usual. He took out his bento and unwrapped it slowly, more for something to do than hunger.

Riku and a few classmates pulled their desks together nearby. Friendly chatter. Nothing harsh. But Haru didn’t join. He never did.

Aika sat alone, quietly eating. She didn’t try to join any group either. Yuna, a bubbly girl from the back row, waved at her, but Aika only smiled and gave a small wave back. Then returned to her meal.

Haru found himself watching.

Not staring — just… observing. The way she moved, the stillness she seemed to carry.

She didn’t look lonely.

She looked fine being alone.

And somehow, that unsettled him.

Later, between classes, he slipped into the library. He often did. Few people came here unless they needed to.

He walked past the rows of books, breathing in the silence.

But someone was already there.

Aika.

She stood near the window, a book in her hand, her posture relaxed.

Haru froze for a second.

Should he leave?

She turned, noticing him — but didn’t speak. Didn’t ask why he was there. Just gave a quiet nod.

He nodded back.

Then went to the corner seat and sat.

Neither of them said a word.

But strangely… the silence felt less empty than usual.

After school, Haru walked home alone. The sky was painted with soft oranges and pale purples. He passed the park near the station — the one with the riverside bench. A place he sometimes stopped by when his thoughts were too loud.

He didn’t stop today.

But he thought about the girl in the library.

About how calm she seemed. How she looked at him without expectation.

A new face. A different kind of quiet.

And somehow… that scared him.

And intrigued him, too.

— — —

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading Chapter 1! The first thread between Haru and Aika is delicate, but it’s there. The quiet world has begun to shift.