Chapter Text
It had been one month since the first day of high school. Hadn’t that been exciting at the time? Everyone was interacting with each other, making new friends. Some felt nervous, some brimmed with confidence — but Nakamura felt absolutely nothing
The opening ceremony had been painfully boring. The principal droned on about welcoming the new students, and nothing memorable happened after that. For Nakamura, everything stayed exactly the same: his world remained shades of grey and white, just as it had been in middle school. Nothing had changed, and he had never let himself hope that it would.
He snapped out of his thoughts when his alarm blared, followed immediately by his sister screaming his name. He didn’t want to move, but he supposed he had to — school wouldn’t wait. He sat up, his vision swimming and blurry, unable to focus because he hated that stupid, beeping alarm more than anything. He was already far too tired to face the day. Without thinking, he grabbed the device and hurled it at the wall. It shattered into pieces, but he didn’t care; he can just set a timer on his phone instead. His sister’s voice grew louder, sharp enough that the neighbours would surely hear, as she ran down the hall and burst into his room. “GET UP!”
Normally, that would have annoyed him. He might have snapped at her to leave, or even cursed under his breath. But right now, he felt nothing but numbness. He dragged himself out of bed, and only then noticed he was still wearing his school uniform from the day before. He must have been so exhausted last night that he’d collapsed straight onto his bed without changing.
He glanced over at the fish tank in the corner. Icchan — his octopus — stretched one long, red tentacle toward the glass, as if reaching out to offer silent support. Nakamura didn’t acknowledge the gesture, though, before turning away and heading downstairs.
His mother was busy making breakfast for him and Kana at the kitchen counter. As he sat down at the table, he heard her talking quietly to his father, until she glanced over and smiled gently. He saw the worry hidden deep in her eyes, even behind that soft expression.
“Did you sleep well, Okuto?” she asked softly.
He nodded automatically, then froze. 'Wait… did I feed Icchan yesterday?' The thought made him sigh. His mind felt foggy, and he was starting to forget little things more and more lately — maybe from all the restless nights he’d spent lying awake. He didn’t dwell on it long, though, before glancing at the clock and standing up. “Mom, could you feed Icchan for me, please?”
“Of course,” she said, but her smile faltered a little. “But you haven’t eaten anything yet! And… you haven’t finished the lunch I pack for you in weeks. Otuko, have you been eating properly?”
Her concern was clear, and he noticed his father watching him from across the table too, his brow furrowed. Even Kana kept darting quick, worried glances his way. All those eyes on him felt overwhelming, like a weight pressing down on his chest.
“I’m fine, Mom,” he said, his voice coming out sharper than he intended. “I just don’t have an appetite right now. I’ll eat later. Bye.” He grabbed his bag and hurried out the door before she could say anything else.
The cool morning air hit his face as he walked, but it did little to clear his head. His thoughts drifted back to middle school — to the days he’d get shoved into lockers, have his things stolen, or be mocked for hours on end. They’d done it all just to get a reaction out of him, because he was a strange kid who loved octopuses. Now, though, he felt a flicker of resentment toward them, even toward Icchan. He regretted begging his parents for that tank and that octopus, regretted letting himself care about something so much. He gripped the strap of his bag until his knuckles turned white.
A soft meow pulled him from his thoughts. Curled on the edge of a garden wall was a tiny, scruffy kitten, watching him with wide, hungry eyes. He hesitated, then unzipped his bag and pulled out the lunch box his mother had packed. He wasn’t going to eat it anyway — and if he brought it home empty, maybe she’d stop worrying. He set the box down and tipped the contents onto the grass for the kitten, then turned and kept walking.
'This is going to be such a long day,' he thought. 'And I already know I’m going to hate every minute of it.'
He finally reached school, changed his shoes in his locker, and hurried toward his classroom — only to crash straight into someone rounding the corner. He stumbled and fell hard onto the floor, bracing himself for the usual: mocking laughter, a sharp “Watch where you’re going!” or a shove to get him out of the way. But none of that came. All he heard was a soft, concerned voice: “Are you okay?”
Nakamura looked up, his eyes widening a little. Standing over him was a boy with thick, curly chestnut hair, warm brown eyes, and smooth, sun-kissed skin. He held out a hand to help Nakamura up. Two other boys stood just behind him, but Nakamura barely noticed them. He scrambled quickly to his feet, clutching his bag tight against his chest and staring hard at the floor, his face burning bright red. “I-I’m fine… really,” he mumbled. Before the boy could say anything else, he turned and fled down the hall, burning with embarrassment.
That was strange, he thought as he walked. Nothing like this ever happened in the dull, predictable loop his life had become. He wouldn’t say he hated the tiny spark of curiosity — or even quiet excitement — that had flared in his chest. But he knew better than to let his hopes rise. People like this were always nice to your face, only to whisper cruel things the moment you turned your back. “He’s probably telling his friends how clumsy and weird I am right now,” he muttered to himself.
He made it to class and sank into his seat, resting his head on his desk. He was so tired — his sleep schedule had been completely broken for months. He’d lie awake until dawn, then drag himself to school, too restless to close his eyes. Instead of sleeping now, he let his eyes drift over the room, watching his classmates chat and laugh with each other, though he felt miles away from them all.
He heard someone say his name — twice, maybe three times — before he finally looked up. His teacher, Otogiri, was standing beside his desk, and several students were glancing over. He hated being the centre of attention. 'Wait… how does everyone already have their books open? Did I actually doze off?'
“Nakamura, please pay attention,” Otogiri said calmly.
He nodded and tried to focus on the lesson, but he had no idea what page they were on, or what they were even talking about. He let his gaze wander across the room — and froze.' That curly chestnut hair… was that the boy he’d bumped into earlier? How had he not noticed him before?' He found himself staring, unable to look away. Well... He hasn't noticed anyone since the first day of high school.
“Nakamura.”
“WHAT?”
He clamped his mouth shut, horrified. He’d shouted right at the teacher. But Otogiri didn’t scold him, didn’t even seem surprised — he looked at the classroom, then just carried on teaching as if nothing had happened. Nakamura should have felt guilty, or ashamed, but instead a wave of nausea rolled over him. His vision blurred again, and the exhaustion and hunger he’d been ignoring for weeks finally caught up all at once.
He raised a shaking hand. “Excuse me — can I go to the bathroom, please?”
Otogiri nodded. As Nakamura stood up, his legs wobbled and he stumbled sideways. He walked slowly down the hall, his sight fading more and more with every step until his world went completely dark, and he collapsed to the floor.
'What am I becoming?' was his last thought before he blacked out.
When he woke, his eyes fluttered open slowly, and the bright overhead lights stung. He was lying on a soft bed, with drawn curtains hiding most of the room. He guessed this was the school infirmary — He didn't see the nurse here, though. Just then, someone pulled the curtain aside.
It was him. The boy from the hallway, the one he’d been staring at in class. Nakamura’s face flooded with heat all over again. 'Why is he here? Did the universe finally decide to stop being cruel to me?'
“Hey! That was quite the fall earlier — you really went down hard,” the boy said, smiling softly. His eyes were full of genuine concern as he stepped closer and handed Nakamura a cold juice box. “I know it’s not much, but it should help get your blood sugar back up! Here, let me help you sit up properly.”
His hands were so gentle as he adjusted the pillow behind Nakamura’s back. 'His touch is so soft…' Nakamura thought, his cheeks burning even brighter. 'Is he actually an angel? No one’s ever been this kind to me before.'
“Th-thank you,” he whispered, taking the juice box and gripping it tight. He felt foolish for being so flustered, but he couldn’t help it — this boy was so warm, so thoughtful. He realised then he must be part of the health committee, looking out for students like this.
“I’m Hirose, by the way,” the boy said, tilting his head and waiting patiently.
'Hirose…' Nakamura repeated the name in his head. 'It’s such a nice name.' He hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t feel annoyed — if anything, he felt quietly glad to finally know who he was.
“Nakamura,” he mumbled, so quiet he was sure Hirose wouldn’t hear. But Hirose smiled even wider, like he’d caught every word.
“Nakamura! That’s a cool name. Well, Nakamura — you’d better drink that juice, okay? It’ll make you feel much better.”
Nakamura nodded, bringing the straw to his lips. He had no idea how much his life was about to change — but he already knew, with absolute certainty, that this was going to be the most dramatic, unforgettable year he’d ever had.