Prologue

The school dormitory was always quieter than expected.

Even in Tokyo—a city that almost never sleeps—this building lived by its own rules. The noise of the streets stayed somewhere beyond the walls, footsteps grew more careful, and conversations shorter. People rarely lingered in the corridors without reason and almost never looked into other people’s rooms.

The doors were closed.

Behind each one—its own silence.

That evening, the lights on the third floor stayed on longer than usual. Soft and warm, they spilled onto the floor from beneath a half-open door, as if the person inside had not yet decided whether to fully shut themselves off from this place.

A student walked down the corridor.

His steps were hesitant—not because he was afraid of the dark, but because he was not yet used to this dormitory. He stopped by his door, as if listening, then carefully inserted the key into the lock.

It was Hirito.

He didn’t know if he had made the right choice by agreeing to transfer. He didn’t know if he would be able to adapt to a school where everyone seemed confident in themselves. There was little room here for those who hesitated for too long.

The door across the hall was slightly ajar.

Inside the room sat a girl. Sheets of paper lay scattered around her—neat and messy at the same time, like thoughts that were in no hurry to fall into the right order. She held a pencil, but she wasn’t writing.

When the footsteps in the corridor stopped, the girl lifted her gaze. Only briefly. Without surprise and without interest—she simply noted someone’s presence, the way people do when they are used to being nearby, but not together.

Her name was Naomi.

Hirito didn’t notice her. He had already closed the door to his room, leaned against it, and closed his eyes for a moment. The dormitory had accepted him without question—and that made the unease even stronger.

Silence filled the corridor once again.

It seemed as though nothing had happened. But sometimes it is evenings like this that become the beginning of stories no one planned. Stories about people who never thought of themselves as special. And about those who kept their distance, choosing the moment—like a cat deciding whether it was worth coming closer.