Lunch Together

The lunch bell rang with a bright chime, immediately filling the classroom with movement and chatter. Chairs scraped lightly against the floor as students stood, stretching their arms and pulling food from their desks and bags.

Haruto closed his notebook and let out a quiet breath. Lunch was usually simple—eat quickly, maybe talk briefly with one of his friends, then spend the rest of the break in comfortable silence. He was just about to stand when he felt a presence beside him shift.

Haruka hesitated, fingers resting lightly on the edge of her desk. She glanced at him once, then again, as if gathering courage.

“Um… Takahashi-kun?” she said softly.

Haruto paused. “Y-Yeah?”

“I usually eat in the classroom,” she continued, her voice polite but slightly nervous. “If you don’t mind… would you like to eat together?”

For a moment, Haruto didn’t respond. Not because he didn’t want to—but because he hadn’t expected the invitation at all. He scratched the back of his hair instinctively, eyes flicking away.

“Ah… sure. That’s fine,” he said after a brief pause.

Haruka’s eyes lit up, just a little, and she smiled. “Okay.”

They sat back down, an unfamiliar closeness settling between them. Haruka carefully opened her bento box, revealing neatly arranged food—golden tamagoyaki, rice topped with sesame seeds, small vegetables cut precisely.

Haruto stared before he could stop himself. “You made that?”

She let out a tiny laugh, cheeks warming. “Yeah. I like baking and cooking. It helps me relax.”

“…It looks really good,” he said honestly.

Her smile softened, something shy and pleased appearing in her eyes. “Thank you.”

Haruto opened his own lunch—simpler, less refined—and suddenly felt vaguely self-conscious. Still, as they ate, the silence between them wasn’t awkward. It was… calm.

“So,” Haruka said gently after a moment, “you’ve gone here since your first year, right?”

“Yeah,” Haruto replied. “Second year already.”

“I see,” she said, nodding thoughtfully. “It feels like a nice school.”

He glanced at her. “It is. Quiet… mostly.”

She smiled at that, as if liking his answer.

As they talked, small things began to stand out. The way Haruka listened closely, leaning in just a bit. The way she smiled when he spoke, even when his answers were short. When she offered him a piece of her tamagoyaki, his hand brushed hers by accident.

Both froze.

“S-Sorry,” they said at the same time.

Haruka laughed softly, pulling her hand back. Haruto looked away, heart beating just a little faster than before.

Why does this feel… different? he wondered.

When lunch ended, Haruka carefully closed her bento, glancing at him one last time. “I’m glad I asked,” she said quietly.

Haruto nodded. “…Me too.”

Later that evening, Haruka sat at her desk at home, a notebook open in front of her. Inside were sketches, short lines of writing, and one new drawing—Haruto, sitting at his desk in the sunlight, looking slightly flustered.

She pressed her pencil down gently, smiling to herself.

At the same moment, Haruto lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the lunch break in his mind.

Somehow, without him realizing when it happened, his quiet routine had gained something new.

And he didn’t hate it.