Chapter 3: A Name I Couldn't Ask
951 Words
As the day drew to a close, Akane summoned the last bit of courage she had.
"Ah, well... um, I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Fujimoto Akane," she said, clasping her hands in front of her nervously.
He looked at her for a moment. Just a quiet pause. Then a nod. "Uhm," he hummed softly.
Akane bit her lip, searching for something else to say, something to make him stay, even just a few seconds longer. "T-thank you again… for saving me from those thugs."
Another gentle smile. Another quiet nod.
"Sorry, but I have to go now. Stay safe!" he said, already turning on his heel.
Before she could react, he was gone. Just like that.
Akane stood there, staring at the path he'd taken, the warmth from their brief time together slowly fading into the cool evening air. Her hand fell to her side, clenched slightly.
"I didn’t even get his name," she muttered, her shoulders slumping.
That night, Akane lay on her bed, one arm draped over her forehead, her thoughts looping endlessly.
A boy in a girl’s uniform.
A stranger with long, dark hair.
A gentle smile that made her chest feel tight.
She groaned and rolled over, burying her face into her pillow. Why am I thinking about him so much? It’s not like I’ll ever see him again…
Just then, her phone buzzed. Her class group chat had exploded into messages.
“Did you hear? Someone’s transferring into our school tomorrow!”
“A girl?”
“No, definitely a guy.”
“Please, let it be a handsome one!”
“Shut up, we want a pretty girl!”
“You boys are hopeless!”
Akane sighed and turned off her notifications. "What’s with all the drama over one transfer student?" She placed the phone aside.
"Akane! Dinner’s ready!" her mom called from downstairs.
"Coming!" she replied, her voice still heavy with thought.
At the dinner table, the warmth of her mother’s beef stew filled the room. The conversation flowed around her as her parents chatted cheerfully about their day.
Her father, still in his office shirt, was in the middle of a story. "So, a new colleague joined us today. Really capable guy. Turned down a promotion at his old company, can you believe that?"
"Oh? Why?" her mom asked as she ladled stew into her bowl.
"He said it was for his family. Wanted to move somewhere quieter—for his kids. Said he has a son and a daughter. Though… I saw his phone wallpaper—it was two girls."
Akane, who had been absentmindedly swirling her stew, suddenly perked up. "Two daughters?"
"Yeah," her dad nodded. "The older one looked pretty tall, about your age. Long black hair. She was in a sailor-style middle school uniform."
Her spoon clattered into the bowl. "Dad! Did you catch her name?"
"Uh? No. Why—?"
"Then what about the father's name?"
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Akane, why are you so worked up?"
Akane hesitated. She couldn’t tell them she was nearly attacked in an alley last night. They would flip. "I-I just… think I met his daughter."
Her father tilted his head. "His name’s Akihito Ayanami. Why?"
After dinner, she scoured i********:, searching for anyone with the surname Ayanami. One by one, she checked profiles, photos, friends lists—nothing. No familiar faces. No Kiyoshi.
She sighed and fell onto her bed." It was a long shot anyway."
The next morning, Akane remained distracted. Her friends whispered excitedly about the new student. Just like the chat the night before, the class buzzed with theories.
When the bell rang, their homeroom teacher, Reiko Ayanami entered with someone behind her.
“Everyone, I’d like you to meet your new classmate.”
The whispers crescendoed as a tall figure stepped in. Long, glossy dark hair. Immaculate uniform. Pale skin. A stunningly beautiful girl. The boys collectively leaned forward. But then—
“Ah, by the way… he is a he,” their teacher, clarified casually.
Silence. Like a bomb had gone off. Gasps. Murmurs. Confused looks. Then, with graceful composure, the student stepped forward and spoke in a calm, low voice.
“Hello, everyone.”
The deep tone shattered the illusion. Jaws dropped.
Meanwhile, Akane, still distracted by her restless thoughts, had barely registered what was happening. Until she heard that voice. Familiar. Unmistakable. She turned slowly toward the front of the classroom. Her heart skipped.
There, standing confidently before them, was him.
The same gentle eyes.
The same long dark hair.
The same quiet strength.
“I’m Kiyoshi Ayanami,” he said. “My family just moved here, so I’m starting a little late. Please don’t be bothered by how I look. I hope we can get along.”
Akane couldn’t believe it. Her eyes locked on him. Her chest tightened.
"It’s him…"
“Everyone,” the teacher said, a little more solemnly now, “Kiyoshi has personal circumstances, so I hope you’ll all be respectful and understanding.”
The class murmured, confused but compliant. Kiyoshi, used to the stares, stood stoically, betraying no emotion.
“You may take the vacant seat by the window.”
Kiyoshi nodded and walked across the room. As he passed by Akane, her heart raced. Her lips parted, ready to greet him again, but he didn’t even glance her way.
He walked right past her. As if she were a stranger. Her hand, which had almost risen in a wave, lowered slowly.
Akane blinked, stunned. "Why…? Why did he pretend not to know me?"
Her chest ached, confused and hurt.
She looked at his back, now seated beside the window, and clenched her fists beneath her desk.
- Writer
