CHAPTER 1 — THE QUIET MORNING THAT WASN’T

The first thing I noticed was the smell of miso soup. Mom had made breakfast again — rice, grilled salmon, and the usual side dishes — and it hit me like a warm morning hug. The second thing I noticed was the cold air sliding in from the window, making me pull my hoodie tighter.

“…five more minutes…” I mumbled, burying my face in the pillow.

“JINSEI!”

A cup of water splashed across my face.

“—AH! I’M AWAKE, I’M AWAKE!”

Mom sighed and walked away, muttering something about my lack of urgency. I sat up, blinking, my hair sticking in all directions. Mornings were predictable. Peaceful. A simple routine I could rely on.

For about five minutes.

By the time I got to school, the sun was already high enough to make the asphalt smell faintly warm. Aoi and Isumu were leaning against the bike rack, arguing as usual.

“You cannot put ketchup on pancakes!” Aoi shouted.

Isumu raised an eyebrow. “You can, but only if you’re trying to die slowly.”

I rolled my eyes. “You two are going to give me a headache before class even starts.”

“Then let’s go give class a real headache instead,” Aoi said, smirking.

I ignored him and wheeled my bike into the rack.

Class started with the usual hum of chatter, papers shuffling, and pencils scratching. The teacher, Mr. Hoshino, slammed the door a little harder than necessary and cleared his throat.

“Everyone sit. I have announcements.”

Whispers died down. Eyes turned toward the front.

“The Cultural Festival is approaching,” he said. “Your classes will be paired with Class 3-E for group projects.”

Aoi immediately groaned. “Not them.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“They’re… weird,” he said, waving vaguely. “And—uh… high maintenance?”

Isumu snorted. “Yeah, apparently you get to see the rich girl herself.”

Aoi elbowed him. “DON’T say that out loud!”

I ignored both of them and tried to focus on the board. Part of me didn’t even care. I liked the quiet. I liked things that didn’t change.

But life, apparently, had a sense of humor.

Third period, our group met Class 3-E in the multipurpose room. The tables had been pushed together, papers scattered, and the smell of glue and paint hinted that some people had started early.

And there she was.

Akane Yamaguchi. Sitting neatly at a corner table, back straight, hair tied in a low ponytail. She had a stack of papers and a notebook. Calm, composed, not looking like a “rich girl” stereotype at all. No designer handbag swinging, no superiority radiating. Just… Akane.

Our eyes met briefly when I accidentally brushed past her desk. I stumbled over my words.

“Uh—sorry…”

She tilted her head slightly and gave a small smile. “It’s fine.”

That was it. No exaggeration. No dramatics. Just… fine. And somehow that made her more noticeable than anyone else in the room.

Aoi immediately whispered, “Bro. You stared.”

“I did not stare,” I muttered.

“You totally did,” he insisted, grinning.

Isumu, as always, ignored the two of us and started organizing the materials in front of him.

We sat down to talk about the project. Reina and Hana, the two other members from Class 3-E, were already pushing ideas.

“Café?” Hana suggested quietly.

“No, too simple,” Aoi said.

“Too simple is perfect,” I muttered.

Reina rolled her eyes. “We’ll see. Akane, any ideas?”

She glanced at me briefly, then at the papers, then back to the group. “A simple café is nice. Clean. Comfortable. People can actually enjoy it instead of being overwhelmed by decorations.”

I noticed the way she said it — confident, but without arrogance. Strong without trying to be, respectful without overthinking.

I said nothing out loud, but internally I thought, She’s good at this. Really good.

Aoi couldn’t help himself.

“C-Cute, too,” he whispered like it was a crime.

I elbowed him. “Shut up.”

Hana blinked. Reina sighed. Akane, of course, remained calm, as if the two idiots didn’t exist.

It was… impressive.

By the time school ended, we had a rough sketch for our café layout and decided who would be responsible for what. Aoi insisted on “taste testing pastries,” Isumu volunteered for heavy lifting, and I ended up being the jack-of-all-trades.

Akane collected the papers, making sure nothing was missing. She looked at me for a second. “See you tomorrow?”

I nodded. “Yeah… see you.”

She smiled faintly and walked out.

I felt my chest tighten for a fraction of a second.

Not love. Not yet. Just… awareness.

Aoi ran ahead like a tornado, leaving me and Isumu behind.

“Bro, you’re acting weird,” Aoi yelled from ten feet away.

“Am not,” I said.

“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvincingly. “Totally normal.”

We reached the bike rack, and I mounted my bike. My thoughts kept drifting back to that small smile. That quiet confidence. That little way she observed without judgment.

It was strange to notice someone like that. And maybe… that was the start of something.

At home, dinner was simple. My younger brother complained about his homework. Mom asked about my day. I muttered vague answers. I wasn’t ready to explain my thoughts about a rich, calm girl from another class who somehow felt… different.

After brushing my teeth, I sat at my desk and opened my notebook. The rough sketches from the café project were sprawled across the page. I traced one line with my pen absentmindedly, thinking about Akane’s calm expression.

I didn’t understand why it stuck in my mind. I didn’t care to analyze it too deeply. For now, it was enough to notice.

And maybe that was the first, quiet step of something new.

Because for the first time in a long while, life didn’t feel completely predictable.

And maybe… it didn’t have to be.