1
The boys in this class are truly blessed.
After all, there are not just one, but two beautiful girls our grade can proudly boast about.
One of them is Minase Mishio.
A cute girl with medium-length hair. Her expressive face perfectly matches the phrase “pure and innocent.” She tends to speak with animated gestures, which leaves quite an impression—but that’s no surprise. She’s a member of the drama club, and rumor has it that she’s quite talented. Some even say she attended a performing arts school back in elementary.
It’s only natural that everyone likes her. Even now, during the break, she’s surrounded by a lively group of both boys and girls, laughing and chatting happily.
The other one is Koreda Murasakiko.
In contrast to Minase, she has a more mature and elegant beauty. With her stunning looks, long hair, and calm demeanor, it’s no wonder that both boys and girls admire her. However, perhaps because she seems like a flower on a high peak, the ones who gather around her are mostly girls.
Since her name “Murasakiko” is a bit hard to say, her close friends have called her “Yukari” since childhood.
“Man, I’m so glad I ended up in this class.”
It’s no wonder such comments escape from the mouths of the male students. For the rest of their second year, they get to see these two every day. Anyone would feel grateful for such good fortune—though, if they really think that, maybe they should stop watching from afar and actually try talking to them.
As for me, Aoi Sakura, I’m also one of those who just watches from a distance. But I have my own reasons for not wanting to get close to either of them.
The bell signaling the end of break rings.
Everyone lazily returns to their seats. That includes Minase’s group and the girls gathered around Koreda—
“Hey.”
“!?”
A sudden voice startles me so much I nearly jump out of my chair.
The voice belongs to Minase Mishio. She leans forward and peers into my face, her large eyes reflecting my figure.
“What’s up?”
“Were you… looking at me just now?”
Those are the words that come out of her mouth. …Pretty sharp. I thought she was absorbed in her conversation, but she’d actually noticed my gaze.
“…You’re imagining things.”
I brush her off with a single remark.
“I’m actually pretty confident in this kind of thing, you know? Not just in feeling people’s eyes on me, but also in knowing who’s looking at whom. I’m sensitive to stuff like that.”
Minase says proudly. Seeing her like that, something clicks in my mind.
“Because you’re in the drama club?”
“Bingo.”
She lifts a finger as if to say “correct.”
“It’s important to know which audience member’s attention you’re drawing. You have to guide their eyes to the right moment.”
“Huh.”
Trying not to show it, I respond curtly. Still, I’m quietly impressed by how deeply that performer’s instinct runs in her.
Because of that, there’s something I really want to ask her—but I bite my tongue and hold it back.
“Oh, and you were looking at Koreda-san too.”
“…”
If what she said about her acting senses is true, then of course she’d notice that as well.
“Well, who wouldn’t look? She’s that beautiful. I really do feel lucky to be in this class.”
“Liar. You don’t actually think that.”
Minase laughs lightly.
It’s obvious she’s repeating what I’d said earlier—and of course, she’s right. If she’s truly an actress at heart, then she probably sees through the subtle shifts in people’s emotions and the lies behind their words.
“Anyway, sit down already. Next period’s with Sakazaki.”
“Ah, shoot!”
Minase spins around in a panic—she’d completely forgotten.
The next teacher, Sakazaki, always insists that students must be seated before he enters the classroom. If even one person’s still standing when he walks in, he’ll start lecturing the entire class.
So now, only a handful of classmates are still on their feet. At this rate, Minase’s going to be the last one to sit down.
Just as I think that, the classroom door opens—it’s Sakazaki.
The first thing he always does is scan the room to check if anyone’s standing. He’s sure to spot Minase.
“Sensei.”
Before Sakazaki can begin his usual routine, I stand up and call out to him.
He looks at me with a puzzled expression.
“There’s something I didn’t understand from the last class. May I come ask you about it during lunch?”
“Of course. You should always do that.”
He nods, expressionless. He doesn’t seem particularly pleased—probably just sees it as a teacher’s duty to answer questions. I’ll just pretend to have understood something and ask a few vague things later.
By the time Sakazaki finishes glancing around the classroom, everyone is already seated.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Minase clasping her hands together apologetically, but I pointedly ignore her. During lunch, I’ll make sure she comes along to the staff room with me.
2
After finishing all my classes for the day, I headed home.
I live alone in a small one-bedroom apartment.
Ever since I was a kid, I was good at soccer. Back in middle school, most of my days revolved around it. Thanks to my hard work, our team made it all the way to the national tournament, and I prided myself on the belief that our success was largely because of my efforts.
Wanting to hone my skills even further, I left home after graduating middle school and entered a strong soccer school in the city — the private Kazamigaoka High School where I attend now.
But the image I had of a top-tier soccer school was nothing like reality. Some of the senior members, out of sight of the coach, forced the new recruits into grueling “training” sessions under the guise of discipline. Endless running as “basic training,” no water allowed — that sort of thing.
They said it had always been done that way. So I went along with it, thinking that was the secret to the school’s strength. But that summer — only a few months after I’d enrolled — I collapsed from heatstroke during practice, in what the news called a “deadly heatwave,” and ended up being taken to the hospital by ambulance. That was when my spirit broke… and I quit soccer.
I had poured my whole life into soccer, believing it was my purpose — and now I’d run away from it. These days, I live like any ordinary student without club activities. When classes end, I head home. Sometimes I hang out with friends, or work part-time a few times a week, weekends included.
Today, I didn’t go anywhere with friends. I just came straight home. I didn’t have work either. But when I opened the fridge, it was pretty empty, so I decided to stop by the convenience store.
As I left my apartment on the second floor and was about to go down the stairs, I heard footsteps coming up from below. Instinctively, I hid myself in the shadows.
The footsteps passed my floor and went up to the third. Peeking out, I saw the back of a girl in the same school uniform as mine. Her short skirt swayed as she climbed the stairs — and there was no mistaking her. It was Minase Mishio.
That’s right — Minase lives in the same apartment building. By coincidence, her room is directly above mine. She doesn’t know that I live here, and I have no intention of letting her find out. I’m the only one aware of this arrangement.
Still, what’s been on my mind is that ever since spring break, Minase’s been coming straight home every day. She used to be in the drama club, right?
“She must’ve quit…”
I muttered to myself.
Last year, she used to come home after dark almost every day, but lately, she’s been home early. The only explanation is that she quit the club.
And yet, I still hear her doing vocal exercises every evening. Is it just out of habit?
Every time I run into her, I want to ask about it — but I always swallow the words. I know how painful it is to be asked about something that’s obvious just by looking. I went through that after I quit soccer. So, I suppress my curiosity and keep quiet.
With that thought, I stopped looking up the stairs and headed toward the convenience store.
§§§
Later that evening, I brought in the laundry hanging on the balcony. There was no doubt it was dry, so I absentmindedly took each piece off the hangers one by one.
“Ah, crap…”
I suddenly heard a voice from above — Minase’s voice. I hadn’t noticed until now, but she was on her balcony too.
Just as I wondered what was going on, I saw it.
“You’ve got to be kidding me…”
I couldn’t help but groan.
It was a white bra — caught on my balcony railing. She must have dropped it by accident, and the wind had blown it back down here.
I let out a heavy sigh.
For a moment, I wasn’t sure what to do. But since she was bound to realize I was down here sooner or later, I decided to just pick it up. Even if I didn’t, she’d come knocking sooner or later to retrieve it.
I leaned over the railing and looked up. As expected, Minase was peering down with a troubled expression.
“This yours, Minase?”
It was obvious, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Eh!? Aoi-kun!? Why are you there!?”
“Because I live here, obviously.”
I replied curtly, meeting her wide-eyed stare.
“Anyway, I’m tossing it up, so catch.”
“Wait, you’re gonna throw it!?”
Minase looked horrified.
“What, would you rather I hold onto it and wait for you to come down here? Or should I bring it up to you myself?”
“P-please throw it…”
She gave up, as expected. Of course — anyone would want this awkward situation over as quickly as possible. I sure did.
“It should be fine, but if it flies off somewhere weird, don’t try to grab it, alright? You might fall.”
“O-okay…”
Minase nodded nervously.
“Here goes… up you go.”
“Hup!”
With a comical little shout, Minase caught it perfectly. Then she froze in that same pose, like a gymnast who’d just nailed a landing.
“Th-thanks.”
By the time she said that, I was already heading back inside with the rest of my laundry. No reason to stick around after that.
“Ah, wait! Hey, Aoi-kun!”
I heard her calling, but ignored it. I shut the sliding door to the balcony — better to leave that god alone.
But before I could finish folding my clothes, the doorbell started ringing. No — it wasn’t just ringing, it was being hammered. Given the timing, I didn’t even need to check who it was.
I sighed again — and opened the door.
“Hey!”
Minase stood there, clearly annoyed, stepping right up to me. Our distance was practically zero — one more step and we’d be pressed together. She looked up; I looked down. Up close, I couldn’t help but think again — she really is ridiculously pretty.
I put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back, creating a bit of space between us. Then I stepped forward myself and closed the door behind me.
“Ah, you’re not gonna let me in?”
“Of course not. Don’t just waltz into a guy’s place when he lives alone. Ever heard of self-preservation?”
Why did she look so disappointed? Also, I didn’t exactly want her seeing the pile of freshly folded laundry behind me.
“So? What is it?”
“Oh, right! Why are you even living here, Aoi-kun!?”
“I told you already. I live here.”
There wasn’t much else I could say.
“Since when?”
“From the start.”
I’d lived here since I started high school. It’s not like I’d moved in recently.
“Then… since when did you know I lived here too?”
“Since the start.”
I repeated the same answer.
To be exact, I found out shortly after enrolling. Word spread that there was a cute girl in another class, and that’s how I learned about her. A few days later, by pure coincidence, I realized she lived in the same building.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
Her expression turned slightly stern — looks like that’s what really upset her.
“Why do you think? Wouldn’t it be creepy? Knowing that some guy from your school lives right below you?”
That’s why I kept quiet. And once we ended up in the same class, it became even harder to bring up. That’s also why I tried to avoid getting too close to her at school.
“Hmm… so that’s how you think, Aoi-kun.”
Her angry look faded, replaced by one of curiosity. That’s not a good sign.
“That’s all you wanted to say, right? Then I’m going back in.”
I cut her off, quickly stepping back inside and closing the door.
“Ah, hey!”
She pounded on the door a few times, followed by another rapid-fire ring of the bell. I ignored all of it.
“Geez!”
Finally, with a frustrated little shout, Minase gave up and went back upstairs.
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