Chapter 1:

Kindness From Within (Part 1)

That Lunch Box Back Then (あの頃の弁当)


“You useless prick, go buy us something from the canteen.”
“Hey Imazaki, you’re in the way.”
“You’re as useless as your father.”
“Maybe the reason why your mother left is because of your stupidity!”

The voices bled together after a while, yet they never lost their sting. They echoed through the hallways, followed him into classrooms, even clung to him during the long walk home. Each insult was a shadow he couldn’t shake, a curse etched into the rhythm of his days.

They said words couldn’t kill. But these words? They were sharp enough to carve scars into the heart, cold enough to freeze the very blood in his veins. Even when he tried to shut them out, the echoes replayed in the silence, lodging themselves in the corners of his mind.

In the first year of middle school, Kazuto Imazaki had tried to fight back. He shouted — just once, when they mocked his father. The response was laughter, loud and merciless, filling the classroom like a cruel chorus. He’d tried again, insisting that they didn’t know anything about his family, about how hard his father worked. But that only worsened his situation, mocking him further.

“Look at him defending his stupid father yet again.”

The more he resisted, the harder they pressed. So he learned to stop resisting.

By the time he reached his second year, Kazuto’s heart had hardened into something unrecognizable, a shield forged from silence. His expression that was once full of color — has now turned into a cold statute, completely unreadable and devoid of emotion. His reactions that were once full of youth — has now regressed.

The bullies grew bored with his lack of response, but that didn’t mean they stopped. If anything, the words became part of the daily routine. Just as predictable as the morning bell or the teacher’s roll call.

A shove in the hallway.

A snicker when he dropped his pencil.

A mocking sigh when he stumbled during gym.

It was all so ordinary now that it felt wrong to imagine a school day without it.

At times he thought that he was just some pebble at a sidewalk — that one pebble that is always stepped on, kicked, ignored, but still there. Sometimes he thought he was just a cog in a machine, or to put it simply — just a useless human being over all. Maybe that was what he had become: something that endured, not because it was strong, but because it had no choice.

Teachers noticed, of course, but they would just laugh it off, patting his back with a forced cheer to light up his mood.

“It’s fine Imazaki-kun, don’t mind them,”

But those words felt empty to him. It was like air entering his right ear, and immediately exiting on his left. As if he hadn’t already tried. As if his silence wasn’t already his shield.

At home those words weighed even more — pressing on him even harder. His father — Yukino Imazaki, works overtime most times, coming home with tired eyes and hands raw from labor. He asked Kazuto about school with a weary smile, as if afraid of the answer. Kazuto always replied the same way, “I’m fine,” but it’s far from it.

Despite the hardships, What good would it do to add more burden to the man who was already carrying so much? His father cooked simple meals, sometimes reheating convenience store dishes, sometimes making clumsy miso soup that tasted of care more than skill.

Kazuto ate in silence, nodding along to the few stories his father told him from work — but never once mentioned his mother, who left them a long time ago for money. The atmosphere was gloomy — unfit for a loving household. There are times that he noticed his son, trying to cheer him up from time to time — but it was of no use, it was always the same monotonous reply, devoid of life.

That silence at home mirrored the silence at school. Between the two, Kazuto existed in a kind of numb limbo — never quite seen, never quite heard. But numbness was better than pain. That was what he told himself. A mantra he always mutters to keep him sane.

If I keep quiet, they’ll get bored.

If I don’t react, the words won’t matter.

If I just endure, it’ll all pass.

It was survival in its simplest form — Endurance as habit, Ignorance as armor.

Kazuto believed he had mastered the art of indifference, that no simple insult could reach him anymore. But the truth was, the wounds never disappeared. They lingered, buried deep, waiting for the moment to split open again.

That moment came one afternoon — sudden, brutal, and unrelenting. The fragile balance of his world, stacked carefully like a pyramid of cards, collapsed all at once.

A girl had been cornered by several boys, their figures looming like devils’ silhouettes in the dimly lit classroom, half-hidden behind the closed doors and shadows. They were older — bigger, louder, and crueler. She trembled as they try to control her.

The girl sat stiff in the chair they dragged out, her wrists bound crudely by ropes scavenged from the sports shed. Her mouth was restrained by a towel, leaving visible marks as time went on. She continued to tremble, and eyes widened with fear and panic. Every time she tried to speak, her voice broke into small, muffled, useless pleas.

What’s even worse, is that the boys recorded all of this as a way to blackmail her. The said girl — Akira Tsumiya, is known as one of the three beauties of their school. So to be in this precarious situation could only spell the ruin of her dignity if word ever got out.

The boys only laughed.

“Look at her shaking,” one of them sneered, tapping the back of the chair with his shoe. “Like a scared rabbit.”

“You’re making this easy, Tsumiya-chan~” one leaned in, pulling away loose strands of hair covering her ears. “You’re making this too easy. Don’t you know how to fight back?” his breath brushing against her ear.

Her eyes begged for mercy, darting toward the door, toward anyone who might help. But the hallway outside was silent. No one was coming. To them, she wasn’t a classmate. She wasn’t even human anymore. She was just an object, something to toy with.

The leader then approached Akira, licking his fingers slowly, theatrically, just to make the others laugh. Their gazes, sharp and unblinking, lingered on her like vultures circling prey.

“Just stay put, Tsumiya-chan…” the leader whispered, tickling her sensitive neck. “This will all be over in a split moment…”

And then, slowly, the other boys that circled around her, began to remove her clothing one by one. She shouted — but no one came as it was a place where no teachers, or students look. Add to the fact that her voice is muffled.

After removing her socks, the leader then whispered the girl once more, leaving her shuddering in fear. “Let us have fun, Tsumiya-chan~”

A faint, wet drag, a soft smear, the sound of moisture pulled across her ear.

His tongue circled around her ears, tracing the curves as he did, while the rest of the boys continued to remove more of her clothes. After her socks — it was her blouse next, slowly unbuttoning each button.

Tck… The fabric whispered against itself with each undone clasp.

Her skirt began to ride up, their hands tugged at the soft fabric with cruel casualness — as if she were a doll, meant to be played — to be stripped apart. The fluorescent light above flickered weakly, giving the place an even more unsettling atmosphere.

The girls legs kicked helplessly against the chair, but it was quickly restrained by them. She felt their every touch — it was uncomfortable, but what can she do?

Her muffled voice was of no use in a secluded space. Only a whimper escaping only to be drowned out by their mocking laughter. Every gesture of theirs carried a vile mix of arrogance and hunger, a performance meant to degrade rather than thrill.

But then, a silhouette began to take shape by the door, which made the boys stop for a while.

Tip tap… Tip tap…

And then the door opened wide open.

That was when Kazuto stepped in without thinking. His body moved before his mind could catch up. One moment he was frozen in the doorway, the next his fists clenched, his legs pushing him forward. His heart slammed against his ribs, each beat screaming at him to turn back, but he couldn’t — not when he saw the girl’s wide, trembling eyes pleading for someone, anyone, to help.

His knuckles connected with the jaws of one of the boys, knocking them down. If the room was as silent as a temple at dawn, the crack of the jaw snapping would’ve been heard crystal clear.

The boy stumbled back, chairs screeching across the floor before toppling over with a crash. For a brief second, the room froze. Even Kazuto’s breath caught in his throat, shocked at what he’d just done.

The girl’s lips parted soundlessly, her face was pale, but her eyes — those frightened, desparate eyes — flickered something else: Relief. For a heartbeat, she looked at him as if he pulled her out of the den of wolves that just kept lunging at her. That tiny spark gave Kazuto strength, his own dim eyes igniting again with purpose. He wasn’t worthless. Not this time.

But it all unraveled before he could take another breath.

One of the boys ran out of the room, and shouted, “Hey, the bastard Kazuto is molesting someone here!” his voice shrill with false outrage.

Another one chimed in, pointing directly at Kazuto, “We caught him! He was totally all over her.”

Their voices layered, sharp and convincing, drowning out the truth. They spoke with the ease of actors who had rehearsed their lines, each word dripping with poison.

Kazuto’s hands trembled, letting go of the girl he just saved. “N-No… that’s not it — ” his words strangled on his throat.

The girl, Akira Tsumiya gasped, shaking her head in denial. But due to fear — she went mute, no sound parted her lips. And in that silence, the boys continued to pounce on their accusations — echoing all throughout the hallway.

And just like a hungry fleet of sharks smelling their prey, they hurriedly went over the classroom where he was. Phones flashed, mouths spat accusations. The sharp click of the camera shutter echoed again, and again, sealing his already cruel fate, even more. Whispers spread as quickly as wildfire — each hushed word heavier than a shout.

“There he is — !”

“Gross… he really did that?”

“Unbelievable…”

Shrieks followed, “Hey you molester!” pulling him away from her, “Get your hands off of her!”

And then, boys corralled around him to pull him away, leaving him bruised and bloodied. He bolted from the classroom, leaving behind whispers, stares, and a girl he’d only meant to protect.

His face and chest burned, and his vision blurred as not one drop — but a stream of tear drops followed, flowing away like a river.

“Why is it always me…?”
“If I just stayed silent… If I just — ”

He shouted on and on, confused, and hurt as to why all of this is happening to him. Did he do something bad back then… or was it something else that he does not know of.

Moments later, he and his father were called over to the principal’s office. The principal’s office smelled of old coffee and paper — a quiet, bureaucratic smell that seemed wrong for the storm that had just hit Kazuto’s life. Fluorescent lights hummed above.

Behind a large desk sat the principal, hands folded on a stack of papers; a teacher from his class lingered near the filing cabinet like a spectator waiting for the final act.

“Imazaki Kazuto-kun,” the principal began without any preamble. “We have received reports, and photos from students alleging your inappropriate behavior. Do you have anything to say to this?”

“I — ” he paused, still shocked by events — and of course the action, that was pinned to him.

His throat tightened. The photos had already been shown in the corridor, in whispers, on small screens. A dozen frozen frames that made his body look like a criminal’s in motion.

“I was just t-trying to defend her!” he managed, “I-I just stepped in because…” he kept pausing, his voice breaking.“They were the ones doing those actions, please believe me…”

The principal’s face remained neutral. Beside him, Hadou-sensei from the teachers’ office tapped a pen, eyes flicking to the grainy pictures. “The images show you holding her, Kazuto-kun. Students are upset. We must consider the welfare of everyone involved. The school’s priority is the safety of our students.”

“But I wasn’t — ”

“Enough, you don’t have such evidence — nor even an alibi to prove yourself not guilty.” The principal interrupted, still wearing his neutral, but stern look on the shaking young man.

His father stood by the window, huffing and puffing as he just arrived from his work. He looked exhausted in a way Kazuto had never seen before — as if this wasn’t the first time he’d had to stand where the world watched and judged them both.

“Oh, you’re early, Imazaki-san.” Hadou-sensei remarked, his tone full of sarcasm, and mockery.

“I just came back from work… cut me some slack…” he sighed, still exhausted from all the running. Slowly, he took his seat, and tuned into the conversation. “So, what did my son do?”

“Imazaki-san, your son molested a student of ours in front of many people — ”

“Dad! I was just protecting her, they are twisting — ”

“Silence!” Hadou-sensei shouted, “Don’t interrupt the principal.” He sternly gazed at him, disgusted by his presence.

“You see, mister, there are multiple pieces of evidence that prove that he did such a thing. And we don’t allow such behaviors in our school.”

His father slowly checked at the photos taken by the students. He slowly scrolled at each photo saved on the phone, meticulously checking each. And then, he told his verdict.

“As you can see, Mr. Principal, my son here is just protecting her. Look!” he showed them pictures, where his son was just covering the girl — with no visible malice.

The principal’s jaw tightened. “We understand you’re his parent, but there are procedures. For now we’ll be suspending Kazuto-kun from school while we investigate. We’ll also be referring this incident to the guardians of the accused student and, if necessary, external authorities. You’ll receive a formal notice.”

Kazuto felt the chair under him tilt, then the room tilted with it.

Suspended.

The word echoed, hollow and final. It wasn’t just a punishment — it was a public sentence handed down on the basis of a few blurred photos and louder accusations.

“Please,” his father said, louder now, and for a moment the tiredness in his face burned into something like desperation, “Please, there must be a way to look into this properly. Kazuto is honest — ”

“We will investigate,” the principal interrupted. “But until then — ” He hesitated, then added with the practiced empathy of someone used to saying the same words to many parents, “We must act in the students’ best interests.”

No one offered Kazuto a chair to sit in a minute longer. The teacher with the pen gave the smallest, polite nod, as if the scene were little more than another administrative box ticked and filed away.

Voices in the corridor carried on as if nothing had happened: a laugh, the squeak of a shoe, the distant bell that marked the end of class. But one thing was certain — disgusted stares flooded the atmosphere where he walked. When they left the office, the corridor’s whispering hands found him again. Fellow students looked past him; some simply avoided his eyes.

“Disgusting…”

“I always knew he was weird…”

“Guess he’s just as stupid as his father…”

But then, the girl he protected approached him, wearing an apologetic mask over her face. “Imazaki-kun… I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to help you — ” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“It’s fine, Tsumiya-san.” His voice felt hollow. “Don’t get even more involved. Please.” He wanted to spare her more trouble, more attention — he wanted to disappear before anyone else could decide who he was.

“There has to be — ” she began, but he cut her off with a small, tired shake of his head.

“I don’t have an alibi. If this goes wrong, I might be expelled.” He couldn’t hide how small the words made him feel.

Tsumiya bowed her head. “I’m sorry,” she said again, voice fragile.

“If that’s all, Goodbye.” He walked away with his father, each step ruled by the weight of other people’s versions of him. The school gates shut behind them, and with every distance they put between themselves and the building, the world still felt colder.

The walk home was wordless. Cars passed, neighbors chatted in the distance, yet for Kazuto it was all muffled, like the world had shoved him behind glass. The suspension placed upon him, weighed him down. It felt so heavy, and painful. He felt like his once peaceful world was starting to dwindle.

At their small apartment, Yukino set his bag down with a heavy sigh. “You heard the principal. A week’s suspension.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaustion pressing into his features. “Kazuto… I know what they said, but I believe you. Don’t forget that.”

Kazuto nodded faintly. The words were kind, but they slipped off him like rain on glass.

The days crawled by. He stayed indoors, curtains drawn, his phone buzzing now and then with unread messages he couldn’t bear to open. Sometimes, laughter drifted up from the street, a reminder that life outside moved on without him.

Every evening, his father would knock softly on the door, inviting him to dinner. His answer was always the same — a flat, “Later.” But that later never came. The meals piled up untouched on the table, a quiet testament to his absence. He told himself he didn’t want to add to his father’s burdens, yet the shame pressing on his chest kept him shackled to his bed.

By the fourth day, the stillness became unbearable. He needed air, even if it meant he’s going to get stares from people, he imagined. Pulling on his hoodie, he went outside that afternoon, and walked around his neighborhood.

It was idyllic to say the least, nothing like he imagined. He thought that he would be judged, but the world just moved on like nothing happened. So he smiled, thought it was weak and fragile like glass. He continued his journey, passing by different streets, stalls, and even went by the mall just to cool himself down.

He sighed and tilted his head back toward the sky. At first, he let the sun’s warmth wash over him, but then a strange dampness streaked down his cheeks. It wasn’t rain — the sky was clear — yet the water kept falling. Only then did he realize he was weeping, the tears spilling faster than he could contain them.

Ever since he entered middle school, his mother left their family, leaving his father to raise him for his entire turbulent teenage years. It was difficult, but somehow, they managed. School, however, was an entirely different story.

Those tears weren’t just for what happened today — they carried the weight of years.

Despite having decent and respectful grades during his elementary years, his middle school era was in a rough decline. Questions that seemed simple to most in his school, was like an impossible task for Kazuto.

Questions that seemed effortless to his classmates felt like impossible puzzles to him. Maybe it was the weight of his mother’s absence clouding his focus, but whatever the reason, it quickly turned him into the laughingstock of his batch.

Physically, his dark, slightly unruly hair fell just above his eyes, with a few stray strands sticking out no matter how much he tried to fix them. His body was quite thin, but his face could be mistaken for a celebrity.

It didn’t help him in this case, because of how his face is molded, people are bound to be jealous of him, resulting in him being bullied into oblivion.

After everything swelled up inside him, a sharp, hollow ache settled in his chest — a pain that wouldn’t ease. That day something finally snapped.

“Why not end it all…?”

He ran it through his mind again and again, as if testing its weight. He thought of his father and how quiet the apartment would be without him. That was the only thing that made him hesitate — and even that felt threadbare against the dark that kept pressing in.

After a few minutes, he stood up, continuing his journey until he reached his favorite park. He strolled around, looking at the children playing their hearts out — eyes full of young sparkle. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched them, their laughter echoing in the air like a melody he’d almost forgotten.

He wandered further, until he found a quiet bench shaded by a tall ginkgo tree. From there his gaze drifted across the path, towards a small food stall. It has a handpainted poster that advertised freshly made bentos. His stomach grumbled — something he ignored all day long.

The girl tending the stall moved with practiced ease, greeting each customer with a polite smile and handing over neatly wrapped boxes. Something about her presence stood out — calm yet radiant. Her striking orange-colored hair gathered the attention of multiple bystanders.

She was practically the face of that stall — with customers flocking from every corner of the park, just to get a glimpse of her face. Kazuto lowered his eyes quickly, not wanting to stare, but the warmth from the stall lingered.

That was until…

“You know,” she said, standing over him with a bento box in hand, “You’ll starve to death if you keep sulking there.”

A cheeky voice suddenly popped up in front of him, playful yet warm enough to cut through the fog in his head. He lifted his gaze, tilting his head toward the sound — only to meet the eyes of a girl standing there with a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

And without a hint of a warning, he shoved the bento to his arms. Quick, but gentle. “Here take this — it’s on the house.”

He blinked, startled, as if caught off guard in a dream. For a moment, he couldn’t find his voice, his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. “W-Wait, I can pay for this — ” he murmured, fumbling for his wallet.

“Put your wallet away,” she smirked, stopping his hand. “This one’s on me.”

“T-Thanks, I guess…?”

“No problem, sir!”

Her smile was as bright as the morning sun, shining through my clouded thoughts.

He thought, before turning his gaze away from the girl. The bento’s warmth only deepened that fleeting sense of comfort.

“I wonder what her name was…”

With that lingering thought, he drifted away towards an unoccupied bench, beneath the shade of a ginkgo tree. Carefully, he opened the bento. It was still warm, and it seemed fresh out of the pan.

To start, there was perfectly fluffy rice, each grain glistening lightly under the sun, with a gentle sprinkle of sesame seeds that added just enough fragrance to tease the nose. Beside it sat golden egg rolls, neatly sliced, each one crowned with a playful heart-shaped drizzle of ketchup — almost too charming to eat. Stir-fried vegetables completed the set, their earthy aroma carrying a warmth that felt strangely nostalgic.

The faint touch of sesame oil and dashi broth wafting from them tugged at his memories, reminding him of the home-cooked meals his mother once made before she left. And at the center, as if to anchor it all, lay a piece of pork tonkatsu — its crisp, golden-brown crust encasing tender meat, fried to perfection.

He then took one bite of the pork, with some rice, and the pork — it just melted nicely with the fluffiness of the rice. One bite after another, and the entire bento was engulfed in just a few minutes.

Each bite was not only filled with exceptional flavor — but also layered with emotions he couldn’t untangle. Gratefulness for the unexpected kind gesture that girl displayed, a fleeting happiness at the warmth it spread through his chest, and nostalgia from the time they ate together as a family.

After finishing the last bite of the fresh bento, he rose from the bench and walked back toward the little stall across the path. This time, it wasn’t just to thank her — but to bring something home for his father as well.

“U-Um, Miss…?” he called out, his voice a little shaky.

She looked up from arranging the neatly stacked boxes on her stall and turned toward him with recognition. “Ah, it’s the lonely boy from earlier!”

He scratched his cheek, embarrassed. “Well… I just wanted to say thanks again. The bento was really good.”

“I’m glad it made you happy,” she said, her smile easy and genuine.

“Oh, and also… could I buy another one? It’s for my dad.”

“Of course! But you know what? This one’s on the house too — ”

He waved his hands quickly, chuckling for the first time in what felt like forever. “N-No, that’s too much! If you keep giving them away, this stall will go bankrupt.”

That earned a small laugh from her as well. “Just kidding,” she giggled, “you really have a nice smile, mister. Keep it up.”

His heart skipped. “R-Really? Uh… thanks, I guess…”

She wiped her hands on her apron and began assembling the box with practiced ease. The soft clack of chopsticks echoed as she placed each side dish with care — the glossy tamagoyaki, a pinch of greens, a steaming cutlet still warm from the pan. A faint aroma of soy and sesame wafted between them. With a rustle of paper and a neat bow tied around the lid, she finally held it out to him with both hands.

“Here you go! One order for the handsome mister!” she smiled, handing him over newly made bento.

“Thank you, miss,” he muttered, clutching the warm box in his hands. “Well, uhm…”

She tilted her head slightly, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. “What is it…?”

His fingers tightened on the wrapping as he flicked his gaze away, cheeks warming. “C-Can I… know your name?” he stammered.

She laughed, clutching her stomach, “Really, that’s it?” she asked, before letting out another round of laughter.

“Y-Yeah,” he answered nervously.

“I’m Minami Ayasaka,” she said with a gentle smile. “Nice to meet you. And you?”

“I’m Imazaki Kazuto, nice to meet you as well.” he smiled, something that he hasn’t done in a while — now brighter, and full of vitality.

“That’s more like it Imazaki-kun! Well then, see you?”

“I’ll come visit from time to time, and thank you again for the bento earlier…”

“Take care!” she waved, her face beaming with joy despite her fatigue.

Kazuto waved back. As he walked home, the warmth of her smile seemed to follow him, filling the quiet evening with a gentle light. Everything around him seemed to have lightened. The once dark streets he used to know, are now colorful — full of life.

When he returned, his father waited by the dining table, holding a piece of paper on his hands. His face looked like it was about to explode with happiness.

“Dad, I’m home!” Kazuto called out as he stepped inside. He set the wrapped bento carefully on the table. “Did something happen while I was out?”

His father finally noticed his arrival, greeting him with a weary smile — the dark circles beneath his eyes betraying his fatigue. “Kazuto,” he said, his voice tinged with relief, “You can finally go back to school. They’ve caught the real perpetrators.”

His chest tightened, and before he knew it, tears blurred his vision. “R-Really, I can go back…?”

His father hugged him tightly, “Yes you can… I knew you didn’t do it.”

Kazuto buried his face on his father’s shoulder, “Thank you dad for believing me,” his voice cracked. “I’ll perform better in school, for you.”

“Then I’ll support you with all my might!” he smiled, patting him on the back. “Anyway, where’s this bento from?”

“Ah this,” Kazuto glanced at it briefly before scratching his cheek. “I bought it from a stall at the park.”
“It looks delicious.”

“It really is, thanks to her, I guess…” his voice trailing off, averting his gaze away.

A knowing smirk tugged at his father’s lips. “Her, huh? Don’t tell me it’s that Tsumiya girl?”

“N-No! Not her, Dad…” Kazuto quickly denied, his ears turning red. “It’s… Minami-san. The lady who runs the stall.”

“Minami-san, huh?” His father chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling. “What makes you want to thank her?”

“I — ” he faltered, his throat tightening. The words I wanted to end it all clawed at the edge of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice them. Instead, his gaze drifted down to his hands.

“I guess she… she made me s-smile again,” he murmured, almost in disbelief.

“Well, I’m glad the she has made you brighter,” his father smiled, “Anyway, I’m starving, let’s eat, shall we?”

“I promise you it’s good Dad! Really!” he smiled, opening the bento he recently bought.

Surprisingly, it was still steaming, its rich aroma spreading through the air. Just like his before, it had egg rolls, tonkatsu, some veggies, and rice — but this time, it comes with a flavorful soup to wash down their palette.

It was unlike any other bento that you can just buy of a convenience store — it’s something that was handled with care, not rash. Each bite was like a symphony that played on their tastebuds.

The umami from the dashi, the right amount of saltiness from the soy sauce, an uplifting sweetness offered by the vegetables — it wasn’t just food — it was an experience

Right after that, Kazuto offered to do the dishes so his father can rest. As he washed the dishes, he couldn’t help but think back to when Ayasaka gave him a bento. It really was unreal. If it wasn’t for her simple action — the story would’ve ended differently for him.

Nonetheless, he’s now in a much better state than before. If back then he wasn’t smiling as much — now, even something as simple as doing the dishes brought one to his face.

“I should visit the park again tomorrow…” he thought.

With a week left before he could return to school, there’s plenty of time to clear off his mind before going back. After washing the dishes, he went upstairs to read some books, while his father went and slept early.

Tucked in neatly on his bed, he read a novel by his night lamp. It followed a girl and a boy in their high school, where, the girl find the boy in a slump, and decided to help him.

It was like the moment between him and Ayasaka, where she helped him during his darkest moment — which made his cheeks feel warm in that instance.

The boy was a delinquent, rowdy, and bottom of his class, while the girl was at the top, and known as one of the beauties in that school — a typical trope in romance novels.

“When could I have this type of interaction?” he pondered as he flipped through each page.

As the night deepened, the set the book aside and reached for his lamp. The room dimmed, and through the window, the moon peeked in — casting a gentle light across his face.

But he couldn’t sleep. All he could think of was her smile — that gentle and sunlit smile. Neither would her emerald eyes — like leaves entering summer.


“Minami-san this… Minami-san that…” he whispered under his breath, chuckling quietly. “What’s wrong with me…?”


And just like that, his once peaceful night, turned into something unforgettable, his mind echoing back to that warm moment earlier that day. His mind is just filled with her, to the point where he can’t even sleep right.

“I’ll just visit the park again…” he thought, before getting some shut eye.

Kokekokko! A sharp cry split through the dawn air.

Kazuto woke up to the soft, warm, golden rays of the rising sun, alongside the call of rooster. The day started as usual, but something about it felt different. It wasn’t just boring like he always thought — but it turned out to be somewhat lively.

Noticing how the old people outside interacted, the dogs and cats running amok on roofs, the soft, melodious chirps of birds, all seemed colorful to him. It was idyllic — dream-like even.

After making his bed, he went downstairs to find his father already dressed in his work uniform, sipping freshly brewed coffee as he flipped through the morning newspaper. The faint chatter of the television filled the room, blending with the rich aroma of homemade egg rolls wafting from the kitchen.

“You cooked for today?” he asked, glancing from the stairwell, still dazed from his awakening.

“I woke up early today, so I decided to switch things up.” his father muttered, looking up from his newspaper.


Kazuto slowly went downstairs, greeted by the familiar sight of his father looking up from his seat with a gentle smile.

“Smells good,” he said, leaning closer to the table. “Hope it’s as good as it looks.”

His father chuckled, eyes still on the paper. “You doubt your old man’s cooking? I poured my soul into that one!”

Kazuto then sat down on his chair, taking scoop of rice from the rice cooker. Steam rose from the pot, carrying the soft, mellow fragrance of rice. With care, he placed it on his plate — with some grains breaking off formation.

As his gaze swept over the dining table, he noticed not only the egg rolls he’d spotted earlier but also a neatly grilled fish set beside them. A cup of steaming green tea completed the meal, its gentle aroma mingling with the warmth of breakfast.

“Wow — it really is complete.” he whispered to himself, before glancing towards his father, who’s still preoccupied with his newspaper.

Moments later, his father left for work, leaving him alone in the household. Feeling extra motivated today, after eating, he decided to do some chores around the house.

For the first time ever, he’s doing something productive, and not just his father doing most of the stuff at home. Before he thought it was boring, but now having a new lens on his life, made everything entertaining.

Starting from upstairs, he dusted off the cabinets, cleaned under the beds, and vacuumed the tiny bits of debris scattered all around. It almost felt like the house hadn’t been maintained for a while — no wonder it had become such a dusty mess.

Going from upstairs to downstairs, he continued to clean, along with the soft hum of the television in the background, making it seem like he isn’t alone. Not only was the atmosphere around him at ease — but also his heart, slowly healing from the scars he once got.

But a certain throb in his heart wouldn’t go away — like a thorn gently pricking at him. It wasn’t exactly painful, but enough to make his heart race. Is it the nerves getting to him about going back to school, or something else?

He can’t discern.

Nonetheless, after cleaning the house and making it look brand new, he sat down on the couch and began scrolling through his phone mindlessly. As he browsed through random memes, videos, and articles, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to the park.

“What am I even thinking…” he muttered. “Why do I keep thinking about her lately…”

He shook his head and decided to take a breather. Upstairs, he changed into his gray tracksuit, slipped on a belt bag, pulled down his cap, and tightened his black shoes for good measure.

“I guess running to the park wouldn’t hurt,” he thought, as he tied his shoes by the doorstep.

He ran through the neighborhood, passing through familiar shops, and his school that he’d soon return to. The rhythmic sound of his footsteps echoed along the pavement, synchronized with the beat of his heart. For the first time in a while, the morning light wasn’t blinding — it felt warm, as if wrapped by the blanket of its rays.

Passing by blooming flowers and children playing with their parents, Kazuto slowed down. It had been a while since he saw such ordinary scenes. They felt comforting.

Maybe this is what he’d been missing all along.

As he jogged through the quiet streets, the morning breeze brushed against his cheeks. The air smelled faintly of dew and earth — refreshing, almost nostalgic.

“Maybe she’s there again…”

The thought crossed his mind, and before he realized it, his pace quickened. He tried to deny it — but deep down, a small part of him hoped to see her smile again.

Kazuto reaches the park, slowing to a walk. It was the same tree, path, and bench where his story changed — where everything started to change for the better. He scanned the area, and his gaze finally landed on Ayasaka, wearing that same warm, gentle smile.

Without thinking, his feet moved on their own. His pace quickened, each step heavier with emotion. It felt as though an unseen force was pulling him toward her — something he couldn’t quite explain.


“Oh, Imazaki-kun!” Ayasaka popped in excitement.

“Good Morning, Minami-san…” he scratched his head, barely meeting her gaze.

“By the way, What did your dad tell about our bento?” she asked, leaning forward from her stall.

He jumped, surprised by the sudden change in distance, “A-Ah well…” he stammered, his gaze wandering, “He said that it was delicious — nostalgic even.”

She then clasped her hands in excitement, her eyes practically sparkling, “Yay! I’m glad he found that it was delicious,” she cheered, before pausing with a teasing grin.

“But tell me, why’d you come back again? Don’t tell me you’re that hooked on our bentos?” she teased, already busy preparing a new batch of orders.

“W-Well, uhm… n-no! Anyway, it was nice seeing you today!” Flustered, he turned on his heel and hurried off, his face burning a deep red, that could easily be compared to a ripe tomato.

Ayasaka then let out a soft chuckle, “What a weird boy.” she muttered to herself, before going back to work.

Meanwhile, Kazuto gasped for air. Not just because he ran at an incredible speed, but also out of embarrassment.

“Stupid, Stupid, Stupid! Why did you run off like that!?” he thought, still processing everything that just happened this morning.

“I just wanted to talk to her more… but I couldn’t bring myself to do it…”

In the end, he jogged back home, still wearing the same flustered look that he hoped Ayasaka didn’t see. His thoughts, now filled with her, the world around him faded into silence. It was like someone put it on mute.

Days passed, and he was finally able to go back to school. The hostile environment that he thought would welcome him had diminished. Though a few still muttered behind his back, the weight of their words no longer burdened him.

Determined to better himself this time, he took time to actually learn about each topic, pulling out all-nighters just get grades that are passable. Not only did he try to improve himself intellectually, he also tried to bulk up his body a bit. For the record, he was quite underweight — a weight unfit for a healthy middle schooler, let alone at the doors of being a high schooler.

One afternoon, while he was reviewing in class, a familiar voice called out. “Hey, Imazaki. You seem different lately, huh.”

Kazuto looked up. “Oh, Tadano. Have I?” he asked, blinking in mild surprise, still oblivious of how much he had changed.

“Well you seem to be much more lively than usual…”

“Really…” Kazuto murmured.

Tadano scratched the back of his neck, looking a little uneasy. “And yeah… sorry for calling you those names, and for the way I treated you back then.” Tadano bowed in front of him, his tone was full of sincerity.

Kazuto blinked in surprise before quickly waving his hands in refusal. “N-No! It’s fine, Tadano. It wasn’t just you anyway. I’ve already learned to accept it.”

“You really are a nice person, huh?”

Kazuto chuckled softly. “Everyone has their good and bad sides, Tadano.”

“Oh, also…” Tadano hesitated for a moment.

“What is it, Tadano?”

“Wanna hang out with some of my friends during lunch?”

Kazuto froze for a second, eyes widening. It was the first time — in all his years of middle school — that someone had asked him to join them.

Without a moment’s doubt, he grinned. “I’d love to!” answering immediately

And just like that, for the first time in three long years, Kazuto finally made friends.

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