The Girl Who Never Looked Up

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The sound of rain filled the classroom.
Soft, steady, endless.
It was always like this when Airi Sato studied — quiet, calm, distant. The world outside blurred into watercolor grays and silvers, but inside, everything remained crisp and controlled. Each raindrop that traced down the windowpane seemed to follow an invisible path, just like every day of Airi's life.
She sat near the window in the back corner, her notebook open, handwriting perfect and neat. Black ink on white paper, no smudges, no mistakes. Outside, the rain continued its gentle assault on the glass, creating a rhythm that most students found soothing. But Airi barely noticed. Her eyes moved from textbook to notebook with mechanical precision, her hand transcribing information as if her heart had no part in the process.
Around her, the classroom buzzed with the comfortable chaos of lunch break. Girls giggled over their bento boxes, sharing food and gossip. Boys argued about last night's soccer match, their voices rising and falling like waves. Someone's phone buzzed. Someone else laughed too loud.
But Airi remained an island in the social sea.
"Did you see that new cafe that opened downtown?"
"I can't believe the test is tomorrow! I'm so dead!"
"Hey, want to study together after school?"
The conversations flowed around her like water around a stone. Occasionally, a classmate would approach.
"Sato-san, can I borrow your notes from yesterday?"
She would smile — polite, practiced, perfect — and hand over her notebook without hesitation. They would thank her, sometimes with genuine warmth, sometimes with the casual gratitude of someone retrieving a borrowed pen. Then they would return to their circles, and Airi would return to her solitude.
To everyone, Airi was perfect.
Perfect grades. Perfect manners. Perfect posture. Perfect silence.
The teachers praised her. The students respected her. No one questioned her.
But inside… she felt empty.
Like a beautiful house with all the lights off. Like a piano no one played anymore. She went through the motions of being human — eating, sleeping, studying, smiling — but somewhere along the way, she'd forgotten what it felt like to actually *want* something. To feel excited. To feel anything beyond the mild satisfaction of a perfect score or the distant anxiety of a potential mistake.
When had it started? She couldn't remember. Maybe it had always been this way.
The rain continued to fall.
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"You'll catch a cold if you sit there all day, Sato."
Airi blinked, pulled from her thoughts. Ms. Ito stood beside her desk, gently closing the window. The sudden absence of fresh air made the classroom feel smaller, warmer.
"Ah, sorry, Sensei. I didn't notice."
Ms. Ito smiled, the kind of smile that held both fondness and concern. She was young for a teacher, maybe late twenties, with laugh lines that suggested she actually enjoyed her job. "Always so serious," she said softly, adjusting her glasses. "But maybe you should try looking outside once in a while. The world's not all textbooks, you know."
Airi gave a small nod, the response she always gave when adults offered life advice she didn't quite understand. "Yes, Sensei."
But deep down, she didn't know what else to look at. The world outside seemed just as gray as the one inside her chest.
Ms. Ito lingered for a moment, as if she wanted to say more, but the bell rang for the next period. The teacher patted Airi's shoulder gently before moving to the front of the classroom.
Airi opened her textbook to the correct page without being asked.
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## ☔ The Return of a Storm
The door to the classroom suddenly burst open with a loud *bang* that made half the class jump.
Everyone turned.
A tall boy stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the gray hallway light. His hair was slightly messy, dark strands falling across his forehead. His tie hung loose around his neck, top button undone. His uniform blazer was unzipped. He carried no bag, no books, no umbrella — just a lazy grin and shoes that squelched with rainwater.
"Yo. I'm back."
The class went completely silent.
Airi looked up from her notes, curious despite herself.
Then the whispers started.
"Is that… Kurosawa? He actually came back?"
"I thought he got expelled..."
"My brother said he broke a window and fought three seniors."
"No way, I heard he just stopped coming and disappeared."
"Why is he back *now*?"
Ren Kurosawa. Even Airi, who paid little attention to school gossip, knew the name. He'd been suspended months ago — some said for fighting, others for vandalism, some for simply giving up on school entirely. The rumors varied depending on who you asked, but they all agreed on one thing: Ren Kurosawa was trouble.
Ms. Ito sighed, though there was something almost affectionate in her exasperation. "You're late again, Kurosawa."
"Sorry, Sensei," he said, though his grin suggested he wasn't sorry at all. "I was helping a cat stuck in a tree."
"In the rain?"
"Especially in the rain. Cats hate getting wet."
A few students snickered. Ms. Ito shook her head but didn't press further. "Just sit down. We're starting the lesson."
Ren walked through the classroom with the casual confidence of someone who either didn't notice or didn't care about the stares. His footsteps left small wet prints on the floor. When he reached his assigned seat — which happened to be directly behind Airi — he dropped into the chair with a satisfied sigh.
Airi could feel his presence like static electricity. Restless energy radiating from the seat behind her. She tried to focus on her notes, but something about him was distracting. Not loud or obnoxious, just... *alive* in a way that made everything else feel muted by comparison.
She glanced back once, just a quick look.
He was staring out the window at the rain, chin resting on his hand, expression unexpectedly peaceful. For someone who'd just made such a loud entrance, he looked almost melancholic in the gray afternoon light.
Airi quickly turned back to her notes, heart beating slightly faster for reasons she couldn't explain.
---
## 🪶 A Quiet Girl, A Loud Boy
The lesson dragged on. Airi took notes automatically, her hand moving across the page while her mind wandered. She could hear Ren shifting behind her — the scrape of his chair, the tap of his pen against the desk, the soft sound of him breathing.
It was annoying. She was used to silence behind her. The previous student who'd sat there had been so quiet she'd sometimes forgotten anyone was there at all.
During the break between periods, Airi was reviewing her notes when she felt a light tap on her shoulder.
She turned.
Ren was leaning forward, arms crossed on his desk, chin resting on his forearms. Up close, she noticed things she'd missed before — a small scar near his eyebrow, eyes that were more amber than brown in the light, an easy smile that seemed to come naturally to him.
"Hey," he said. "You're Airi Sato, right?"
Airi froze. People didn't usually start random conversations with her. "Yes... why?"
"You're top of the class, aren't you?" He tilted his head slightly. "You take notes like a robot."
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I mean it in a good way," he said quickly, grin widening. "Like, you're so focused it's almost scary. I bet you'd explode if you got a single answer wrong."
Airi felt her cheeks warm slightly. Was that an insult or a compliment? She couldn't tell. "You don't even bring a notebook," she pointed out, deflecting.
Ren laughed — a genuine, warm sound that drew a few curious glances from nearby students. "That's 'cause I live dangerously."
Despite herself, Airi felt the corner of her mouth twitch. Almost like a smile, but not quite. She suppressed it quickly. "That's not living dangerously. That's just being unprepared."
"Same thing," he said cheerfully.
She shook her head and turned back to her desk, but she could still feel him watching her.
"You smiled," he said.
"I didn't."
"You almost did. I saw it."
"You're imagining things."
"If you say so." He leaned back in his chair, still grinning. "But I'm pretty good at noticing things people try to hide."
Airi didn't respond. She stared at her notebook, at the perfect rows of text, and wondered why her heart was beating so fast.
---
## 📚 After School Assignment
When the final bell rang, Airi began packing her things with the same methodical care she applied to everything else. Books stacked precisely, pens returned to their case, pencil shavings disposed of properly.
She was almost out the door when Ms. Ito called her name.
"Sato, can I ask you something?"
Airi walked to the teacher's desk. "Yes, Sensei?"
Ms. Ito glanced at Ren, who was still slouched in his seat, staring at his phone. Then she looked back at Airi with an apologetic smile. "Kurosawa needs to make up for his missed lessons. Could you tutor him after school for a while? You're the most reliable student I know."
Airi's stomach sank. She looked back at Ren, who was now watching their conversation with mild interest.
"Me? But... he doesn't seem like someone who wants to study."
"Maybe he just needs someone patient enough to try," Ms. Ito said gently. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could handle it."
Airi wanted to say no. She wanted to explain that she had her own routine, her own schedule, her own comfortable solitude. But the words stuck in her throat. She'd never been good at refusing teachers. At refusing anyone, really.
"All right," she heard herself say. "I'll try."
Ms. Ito's face brightened. "Thank you, Sato. I knew I could count on you."
As Airi walked back to her desk, she felt Ren's eyes following her. When she glanced at him, he gave her a two-fingered salute and a grin that seemed to say, *This is going to be fun.*
Airi had a feeling her quiet, controlled life was about to get a lot more complicated.
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## 🌧️ After the Bell
The classroom emptied quickly. Students rushed out into the rain-soaked evening, umbrellas blooming like flowers in the courtyard below. Soon, only Airi and Ren remained, along with the sound of rain against glass and the distant echo of voices fading down the hallway.
Airi sat across from Ren, her textbooks and notes spread neatly on the desk between them. He sat with his chair tilted back, hands behind his head, looking completely at ease despite having no materials whatsoever.
"Let's start," she said, trying to sound confident and teacher-like.
He blinked at her. "You're serious about this, huh?"
"Of course. You're behind by months. We'll begin with math—"
"Ugh, math?" He let his chair drop forward with a thud. "You're killing me already."
Airi sighed, already regretting this. "Then what do you want to do?"
He grinned. "Talk. You're kinda interesting."
"I'm not," she said immediately, automatically.
"Exactly. That's what makes you interesting."
She stared at him, completely confused. What kind of logic was that? How could being uninteresting make someone interesting? It didn't make sense. Nothing about this boy made sense.
When she didn't respond, Ren turned his attention to the window. The rain had picked up, drumming harder against the glass. His expression softened, the playful mask slipping for just a moment.
"You know," he said quietly, "rain's the only time this town feels calm."
Airi followed his gaze to the gray world outside. "I used to think rain was lonely."
"Lonely?"
"Yes. It hides everything — the sky, the sun, even people. Everyone stays inside. Everything stops."
Ren was quiet for a moment, considering her words. Then he turned back to her, and there was something different in his eyes. Something sincere beneath the usual teasing.
"Then maybe we should stop hiding."
Airi blinked. "What?"
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "From now on, let's make a deal. You help me study, and I'll help you smile more."
"That's... unnecessary," she muttered, looking away.
"Too late. It's a deal." He extended his hand across the desk, grin back in full force.
She stared at his outstretched hand. Calloused palms, long fingers, a small bandage around his thumb. It was such a simple gesture, but somehow it felt significant. Like crossing a line she couldn't uncross.
Slowly, hesitantly, she reached out and shook his hand.
His grip was warm and firm.
"Deal," he said.
And for the first time in longer than she could remember, Airi Sato smiled — not perfectly, not politely, not because it was expected of her.
Just softly. Honestly. Like a small crack of light breaking through clouds.
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## 🌤️ Later That Night
At home, Airi stood in front of her bathroom mirror, brushing her teeth in the mechanical way she did everything. But tonight, something was different. She kept thinking about the afternoon. About Ren's words. About the deal they'd made.
*Let's stop hiding.*
She rinsed her mouth and looked at her reflection. The same face she'd seen every day for seventeen years. Same dark eyes, same straight hair, same neutral expression. But somehow, tonight, she looked different. Or maybe she was just seeing herself differently.
She walked to her bedroom window and opened it despite the lingering dampness in the air. The rain had finally stopped. The neighborhood was quiet, washed clean, glistening under streetlights. Droplets clung to power lines like tiny stars.
The air smelled fresh. New. Full of possibilities she'd never noticed before.
"Maybe," she whispered to the night, to herself, to no one in particular, "the rain isn't so lonely after all."
Behind her, on her desk, her phone buzzed with a text notification. She picked it up.
*Unknown Number: hey its ren. ms. ito gave me ur number. same time tomorrow? i promise ill bring a notebook this time*
*Unknown Number: probably*
*Unknown Number: no promises*
Despite herself, Airi smiled at her phone screen.
She saved his number and typed back: *Same time. And you'd better bring that notebook.*
Three dots appeared. Then: *yes ma'am 🫡*
Airi set her phone down and looked back out the window. Somewhere in the distance, beyond the rooftops and trees, the clouds were beginning to break apart. She could see small patches of dark blue sky, stars starting to peek through.
For the first time in years, she felt something warm and unfamiliar stirring in her chest.
Not anxiety. Not emptiness.
Something that felt almost like... hope.
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## 🌸 End of Chapter 1
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*To be continued in Chapter 2: The Boy Who Didn't Bring Textbooks*