Despite my protests, she still chose to sit beside me on the rooftop bench. I wasn't sure how to react, but arguing felt pointless. All I wanted was to enjoy my coffee in peace.
She settled in with that elegant, almost imposing presence. I could feel her eyes on me, but I kept my gaze fixed on the horizon, sipping quietly. The silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, yet Utaha seemed unfazed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, crossed her legs, and gazed calmly at the view.
"What's that coffee you're drinking? Mind if I have a sip?" Her voice was smooth, composed.
"If you're thirsty, drink water," I replied flatly, not inviting conversation.
"It's not about thirst. I just like the taste," she said, amusement flickering in her eyes.
"It's mine. Don't ask for what's not yours. And maybe you're a little too close," I said, trying to keep my distance.
"Aren't you a bit cold for someone who wants me near? Can't we talk a little more?" she teased, her tone probing.
"We are talking," I said, voice dry.
"That's not what I mean, Aiko," she said, narrowing her eyes.
"Well, tough luck. That's all you get. And by the way, I have a name, use my last name. Call me Aizawa."
"Rude much, Aiko?" She feigned offense.
"You started it," I shot back, irritation and something else stirring inside me.
"Hmph. Still, I'm glad we're talking again," she softened.
"Uh-huh," I grunted, unsure how to respond.
"Anything you want to say?"
"Nothing," I answered flatly.
"I'll start then." A smile played on her lips.
"Go ahead," I said, indifferent but not wanting to argue.
"Tell me about yourself."
I gave her the bare minimum: "I'm 150cm. Birthday, November 14th."
"Liar," she said, eyes sharp. "But that's not what I mean."
"You're asking about the real me?"
"Yes. Like, why are you here alone? Why do so many girls chase after you?" Her eyes mixed curiosity and a trace of jealousy.
"None of your business. Now go away."
"Oh, you're such a tease, Aiko."
"Shut up, Kasumigaoka."
"You can't run forever. One day, you'll admit we have a special connection."
"Annoying."
"But I'm glad to see you again."
"Go away. Don't make me say it twice."
"And yet here you are, talking to me. Why won't you accept it, Aiko?"
"I'm not your boyfriend. Stop pretending we're a thing. You're acting crazy. Go."
"Why won't you admit it? It's obvious we're connected."
I didn't answer. I took another sip of coffee, the warmth grounding me. She didn't push. Her presence was a strange comfort, a reminder of something I couldn't remember but felt.
We talked like old acquaintances, though I didn't understand why.
Needing a break, I pulled out my headphones and put them on. Music washed over me, creating a barrier between us and the world.
Then I felt a tug on one earbud. I opened my eyes to see her smiling softly, placing the earbud in her own ear. Her expression shifted as recognition flickered in her eyes.
Raindrops fall down on me ~So cold but so tenderly ~Could we put hearts together though ~We're far so apart? ~
Her eyes glistened with nostalgia and sadness, a memory stirring beneath the surface.
"You remember this song, don't you?" she asked, voice soft.
"Of course. I listen to it every day," I said flatly.
But her expression said otherwise. A sharp twist gripped my chest. What was that?
She smiled sadly. "It's okay. Maybe in time, you'll remember. For now, just know this song is special… to us."
I stayed silent, letting the melody fill the space between us, a bridge across forgotten time. Utaha's presence was both unsettling and comforting, a tether to a past I couldn't grasp.
I stole glances at her, trying to piece together the connection she insisted was real. For now, the music was enough.
"You'll never be alone again, Aiko," she whispered.
I didn't reply, but her words lingered.
...
The bell rang, pulling me back to reality. Second period had started, Hiratsuka-sensei's class.
"Alright, quiet down! We have a new transfer student today!" the teacher announced.
Excited murmurs filled the room.
The door slid open with a soft click.
Mahiru stepped in. Conversations died. Girls gasped. Boys stopped mid-breath, captivated by her quiet glow - the angel.
"Introduce yourself, please," Hiratsuka-sensei prompted.
Mahiru bowed slightly, voice calm and warm. "Good morning. I'm Shiina Mahiru. I look forward to studying with you all."
A hush followed.
Then a girl whispered, "She's like an angel."
"More like a celestial being," someone added, laughter rippling.
I shifted in my seat, watching the scene unfold. There was always a Mahiru, wasn't there? The refined, enigmatic presence that outshone everyone. Beauty was subjective, but she held the room effortlessly.
Murmurs rippled, alliances and rivalries already forming.
Hiratsuka-sensei gestured toward the open seat behind Alya. Of course.
Mahiru moved with controlled grace, catching my eye for a brief moment. She lightly touched my shoulder before the teacher continued.
Was she messing with me?
Throughout class, I caught Hiratsuka-sensei stealing glances at me, warm, but something deeper.
Was I imagining things? Her kindness felt different today, personal. A new layer to the day.
The bell rang again. Gossip swirled around Mahiru, the center of attention.
"Aizawa, after class, teacher's room," Hiratsuka-sensei called as she left.
Alya teased, "Did you do something to make her mad?"
I shrugged, closing my notebook harder than needed. "No idea. Maybe she wants to scold me by association."
Alya laughed softly. "Better find out. Maybe she has a crush on you."
"Not funny," I muttered. Teacher-student relationships were forbidden. Unless behind closed doors...
"Yeah, yeah," I said, uninterested, packing up. I threaded through the buzzing classroom.
The teacher's office was down the hall. I paused, then knocked.
"Come in!" Hiratsuka-sensei responded briskly.
Inside, she sat at her desk, black hair pulled back in a tight bun, exuding professionalism. Papers and folders stacked meticulously. The faint aroma of coffee lingered.
She gestured to a creaky chair. "How was your morning?"
"Gut-wrenching," I said. "Women can be a force of nature."
She smiled, a mix of warmth and something else. "Good you're here. About the Service Club, how was it yesterday?"
I shifted, guarded. "Fine. Nothing special."
She raised an eyebrow. "Aiko, the club's about helping others and making a difference. I think you could benefit."
I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Like I need more people telling me what to do. I'm fine alone."
She leaned back thoughtfully. "I get that you value independence, but being part of something bigger can offer new perspective. It's not losing yourself - it's using your strength to help others."
I looked away, jaw tight. "Seems like a waste of time."
She sighed gently. "Maybe you're missing the point. Helping someone isn't wasted effort. And who knows? It might help you."
I stayed silent. Part of me was curious, but pride held me back.
"Just think about it. That's all I ask. Also, the sports festival is coming up. Hope you'll participate," she said, her voice lighter.
I nodded, guarded but curious. "I'll think about it."
She smiled warmly. "Good. Glad to hear that."
As I stood, her voice stopped me, tone shifting, a little darker, possessive.
"Oh, and Aiko," she said, eyes intense. "There's something else."
"What?"
"I noticed you've been spending time with Kujou. She seems nice," she said kindly, but with an undercurrent that unsettled me.
"Yeah. I guess."
Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Be careful. People come into our lives for reasons we don't always understand. Be open, but cautious."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Her gaze held mine. "Good."
I left feeling a mix of confusion and unease. Whatever was coming next, I'd face it—one note at a time.
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Thanks for reading.