Chapter 12: “The Boy Named Hiromiya”

It started subtly.

Hiromiya Shun was nothing extraordinary. Slightly taller than average, hair always neatly combed, calm eyes that seemed to watch without judging. But for Touko Nishima, he became impossible to ignore.

She first noticed him when he offered to carry her books.

“Let me help,” he said, voice soft. “You have too many.”

Touko lifted her gaze from the stack of notebooks in her arms. His expression was polite, unassuming. Not intrusive. Not curious in the way classmates often were.

“Thank you,” she said, keeping her voice even. She moved aside so he could take one bag.

He smiled slightly, not the kind that demanded attention, but the kind that seemed to understand something unspoken.

For Touko, it was dangerous.

She had no need for this attention.

She had no need for friendship.

But Kei had said, once, that trusting others wasn’t a weakness.

Hiromiya walked with her between classes, matching her pace. Sometimes he would carry her extra notebooks, sometimes just adjust his path so he could shield her from the wind. It wasn’t overbearing, not yet. But Touko could feel his intention lingering, persistent as the hum of the classroom fluorescent lights.

Himari Sato noticed. She watched him fidget near Touko, blush when their eyes met, clear warmth in his quiet gestures. Himari whispered once, “He really likes you, you know.”

Touko tilted her head, examining Himari with her usual calm. “Does it matter?”

Himari blinked. “Well… it’s obvious. He’s being nice. I think he likes you.”

Touko’s pencil tapped her notebook. Nice. Like that could ever matter.

---

That afternoon, as rain began to fall, Hiromiya approached Touko outside the classroom. Umbrellas unfolded around the courtyard, students hustling to shelter. He held one out toward her.

“You’ll get wet,” he said. His calm voice carried a hint of nervousness now.

Touko shook her head. “I don’t mind.”

“You really shouldn’t,” he insisted, a blush brushing his cheeks. “You’d catch cold.”

Touko studied him, curious. Not because she cared about catching cold. Not because his gesture was unusual. But because it reminded her of Kei.

Kei always noticed little things.

Kei always warned her when something might harm her.

Kei’s voice echoed faintly in her mind.

“Touko, pay attention. Not everyone will be careful.”

She looked at Hiromiya again, expression neutral. “I am fine.”

He smiled faintly, as if he understood her answer—though he didn’t.

---

Hiromiya started to follow her after school too. Not closely, not in a stalking way, but with careful persistence. He would walk beside her, glance at her once, then drop his gaze shyly. He offered small talk about homework, teachers, trivial subjects.

Touko answered politely.

Never more than necessary.

Never enough to encourage him.

She studied his patterns. His pauses. The way he stumbled over words when she nodded at him. How his eyes betrayed his nervous hope.

All harmless, all simple.

But Touko didn’t want anyone’s attention from Kei’s world.

She didn’t want Kei’s eyes to shift, even slightly.

Because Kei’s approval wasn’t meant to be shared.

---

One afternoon, Himari leaned toward Touko during lunch. Her expression was worried.

“Do you… like him back?” she asked, voice soft.

Touko’s chopsticks paused midair. “Like him?” she repeated, almost curiously.

“Yes! Hiromiya. He… he’s always so nice to you. He’s always paying attention. Don’t you feel anything?”

Touko tilted her head. “I feel…” She hesitated. “That Kei would not like this.”

Himari froze. “Wait… what?”

Touko’s eyes were calm, unreadable. “It is simple. Some things should not exist. Some affections are irrelevant.”

Himari frowned. “But he’s just… trying to be kind!”

Touko’s lips curved faintly. “Kindness can be dangerous when misplaced.”

Himari didn’t press further. She understood, vaguely, that Touko’s world was something larger, something no one could enter. Even she, Himari, was only tolerated. Only allowed to watch.

---

The next day, Hiromiya tried again. He offered her his umbrella in the morning drizzle. She didn’t take it, keeping her head down, letting the rain soak her uniform.

“You shouldn’t do this to yourself,” he said softly. “Please, take it.”

Touko looked up for a moment, letting the faintest edge of amusement brush her lips. “I am not doing this to myself. I am doing this for Papa.”

Hiromiya blinked, confused. “Papa?”

Touko’s eyes narrowed slightly, not in anger, but calculation. “Someone very important. Someone who watches everything.”

The boy nodded slowly, misunderstanding something entirely.

Touko turned away, feeling the presence of Kei in her mind, as if he were right behind her. His imagined eyes followed her, silent and judging.

“Papa won’t like this,” she thought.

A cold little shiver ran down her spine. Not fear. Not guilt.

Just certainty.

She would not allow anyone to take even the smallest fragment of Kei’s attention away.

Hiromiya continued to follow her politely, unconsciously close, but Touko didn’t glance back. Not once.

And Kei—real or imagined—watched everything.

Touko Nishima walked forward, her umbrella useless against the rain, perfectly calm, and utterly untouchable.