My name is Nozuki Ryou, and today marks the first day of my new life.
I had just transferred to Kougamine Academy, an elite private school nestled atop a hill, where uniform jackets are always pressed, and legacies walk the halls.
Adjusting the collar of my new blazer, I stepped out with both excitement and anxiety swaying in my chest. On the way to school, something unusual happened—I noticed a snow-white cat staring at me from the alley. Its fur shimmered in the morning light, like fresh snow under moonlight.
Naturally, I reached out.
It bolted.
And just as I chased it around the corner—a sleek, black VIP car whizzed past me. My eyes instinctively followed its path. For a split second, through the slightly lowered window, I saw her.
Silver-white hair, as smooth and radiant as freshly fallen petals, flowing gently in the breeze. Her face was partly hidden, but that moment... it stretched in time. Everything else faded.
I didn't know who she was, but I knew she wasn't just anyone.
As I stepped into Class 2-A, I introduced myself with a mix of calmness and nerves.
"My name is Nozuki Ryou. I just transferred here. Nice to meet you all."
I took my seat near the window, still wondering about the girl in the car. Moments later, the door slid open again—and this time, it felt like the whole class inhaled collectively.
She walked in.
Not just anyone—Ishikawa Izumi, the nation's sweetheart. The idol I had admired from a distance. The unreachable star.
My jaw dropped.
Whispers followed:
"She's the Student Council President."
"Her father's best friends with the school's founder."
"She never talks to anyone outside council."
To my disbelief, she sat next to me.
Was this real?
During break, I met a few fellow students—surprisingly, all part of the Student Council. They were friendly, open-minded, and weirdly insistent that I join them.
"Why me?" I asked.
"You'll find out," one smirked.
Still trying to wrap my head around Izumi sitting next to me, I volunteered to help the teacher return some sports equipment to the club room.
And that's when everything went sideways.
I opened the club door, arms full of cones and rackets—and froze.
She was in there.
Changing.
Not fully exposed, but enough for panic to override logic.
"Ah! Sorry—I didn't know! I didn't see anything! I swear!"
"HENTAI!!!"
Her shoe made contact with my jaw before I could flee.
By the next morning, the incident had… spread.
Somehow, everyone knew. I couldn't walk ten steps without hearing my name whispered, followed by "Izumi" and "pervert" in the same breath.
Embarrassed and overwhelmed, I skipped lunch and made my way toward the rest area. But just as I reached the stairs—a group of senior boys blocked my path.
"We heard what happened."
"It was a misunderstanding!" I pleaded.
"You saw her panties?"
"I—uh… it was—bear print…?"
One of them nearly fainted.
"I've been crushing on her for a year and haven't even seen her sneeze. You saw her panties on your first day?!"
"You're either the unluckiest guy ever… or the chosen one."
Then their mood changed. Grins turned into scowls.
"Either way… time for your punishment."
My eyes darted around. No escape.
Just as I braced myself—
"That's enough."
A calm yet commanding voice cut through the tension.
It was Izumi.
Everyone went silent. Her gaze was icy and firm.
"Touch him, and you're all off the council roster. Permanently."
The group scrambled, muttering apologies and bowing like frightened cats.
She turned to me. Her eyes narrowed. "You owe me an apology. But not like that."
I nodded frantically.
"I'll make it up to you. Just… give me a chance."
She paused, then sighed.
"You're such a mess, Nozuki Ryou… but maybe, you're interesting enough."
Her words echoed in my head for the rest of the day.
Interesting enough? What did that even mean? One second she was threatening to kill me with her heels, the next she was... defending me. That kind of duality should be terrifying—but instead, it fascinated me.
After school, I found myself alone on the rooftop. The view from up there was breathtaking—the whole city sprawled beneath a canvas of fading light. I leaned against the railing, trying to make sense of this whirlwind.
That's when I noticed her again.
Izumi stood on the opposite end of the rooftop, her silver hair catching the breeze like a ribbon in the wind. She was staring off into the distance, arms folded.
I almost walked away—but then she spoke.
"You're not very good at being invisible."
I blinked. "You… knew I was here?"
She gave a soft chuckle. "You stomp like a lost puppy."
I approached cautiously. She didn't look at me, but her voice was calm.
"This place is quiet," she said. "Most people don't come up here unless they're running from something."
"Maybe I'm just chasing something instead," I replied without thinking.
She turned to face me then, her expression unreadable.
"You say strange things."
"You seem to bring them out of me."
Another pause. Her gaze dropped to the city below.
"You remind me of someone," she said, barely audible.
"Someone from here?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she shifted the topic. "The Fall Festival's coming. As Student Council, we oversee everything. That includes cleaning, setting up booths, and staying until the last balloon pops."
"I guess that's my punishment, huh?" I joked.
"No," she said, her eyes suddenly distant. "It's your redemption."
The wind picked up. She shivered slightly, hugging her arms around herself. Without thinking, I removed my blazer and draped it over her shoulders.
She stiffened.
Then she looked up at me—really looked.
"Why… would you do that?" she asked.
"I don't know," I admitted. "It just… felt like I've done it before."
Her lips parted, but no sound came. Her fingers clutched the fabric of my blazer tightly, as if trying to keep something from slipping away.
"Let's go," she said softly.
We walked down the stairs in silence.
The next morning, things got weirder.
I opened my locker and—bam—a paper crane fell out.
At first, I thought it was just a prank. But when I unfolded it, a single sentence was written inside:
"The sakura tree still waits."
My hands trembled slightly.
The words meant nothing… and yet, everything. Like they were stolen from a memory I couldn't access.
Later, in the classroom, I turned to Izumi.
"Hey, do we… know each other from before?"
She blinked.
"What makes you ask that?"
"I just— I don't know. You feel familiar. That's all."
She didn't respond immediately. Her fingers fiddled with her pen, eyes focused on the margins of her notebook.
Then she said, "Familiarity is a tricky thing, Ryou. Sometimes, it's just your heart recognizing what your mind forgot."
Before I could respond, the teacher walked in.
The festival preparations began, and true to her word, Izumi worked me to the bone.
Painting banners, hauling boxes, fixing cables, folding pamphlets—I did it all, mostly under her sharp supervision.
One afternoon, I found myself hanging paper lanterns across the corridor ceiling. I was balancing on a stool, arms stretched over my head, when the inevitable happened.
I slipped.
But before I hit the floor, something—or rather someone—broke my fall.
Izumi.
I landed squarely on top of her.
Eyes wide, I pushed myself up immediately, mortified.
"Are you okay?!"
Her face was flushed red. "I told you not to climb alone!"
"I didn't think I'd fall on you!"
"You could've broken your neck!"
For a moment, we just stared at each other, breathless, tangled, awkward.
And then—she laughed.
Not a soft giggle. A real laugh.
It was the second time I'd seen her that way.
"I swear you're cursed," she said, brushing her hair from her face.
"Probably," I muttered, helping her up. "But you keep catching me."
Her expression changed—briefly—into something far more serious.
"Maybe I always have," she whispered.
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
The night before the festival, the entire Student Council stayed late. Izumi was working silently beside me, organizing paperwork while sipping warm milk tea. A small, nostalgic melody played from a nearby speaker—some old folk tune I didn't recognize, but felt like I should.
As I leaned back in my chair, I found myself watching her.
Her focused expression. The way her lips moved when she read silently. The way she occasionally twirled her pen with the same rhythm every time.
Familiar. Unreasonably familiar.
Like déjà vu that refused to leave.
Suddenly, she looked up—and caught me staring.
"You've been doing that a lot lately," she said flatly.
"I—uh—it's not what it looks like."
"Really?" Her eyes narrowed. "Then tell me what it is."
"It's just… have we met before?"
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she stood up and walked over to the window.
"You really don't remember anything… from before you came here?"
I frowned. "Not much. I had to move around a lot. Things got… blurry."
She turned her back to me.
"Blurry," she repeated, like the word hurt her.
Then she reached into her blazer pocket and pulled something out. A small, folded photo.
She held it in her hand for a second… then slipped it back.
"Nozuki Ryou," she said slowly, "Do you believe people can forget things their heart still remembers?"
I looked at her.
"I think… I'm starting to."
She turned to me, lips barely moving. "Good."
The day of the festival arrived.
The campus bloomed with color—banners, lanterns, music, laughter. Students ran between booths in yukatas and uniforms, the air filled with the smell of takoyaki and sweet bean cakes.
I wore a casual kimono, courtesy of the council. It was too big for me and tied poorly—but I managed to keep it together.
Izumi wore light blue.
She looked ethereal.
People turned to look at her. Cameras clicked. She smiled politely to the crowd, but when her eyes met mine, something changed.
A softness. A flicker.
"Wow," I said before I could stop myself. "You look… like spring."
She blinked. "Spring?"
"I mean—you know, like fresh wind and petals and… never mind."
She smiled. "You're terrible at compliments."
"I'm just nervous."
"Why?"
"Because I think I've met you before in a dream I can't wake up from."
Her cheeks turned red.
Then she stepped closer.
And whispered,
"Maybe that dream isn't over yet."
The fireworks began just after sunset.
I stood beside the booth we'd spent all week building—paper flowers lining the frame, tiny lanterns swaying in the breeze. Students clustered all around us, laughter echoing through the school grounds. The scent of grilled food and festival sweets mixed with the night air.
Izumi stood beside me.
She had removed her council armband for once. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and her hairpin chimed faintly as she turned her head skyward.
The first firework bloomed—a soft pink burst like a blossoming flower.
She didn't smile, but I saw something gentler in her gaze.
"Fireworks always make me feel like something's about to end," she said quietly.
"Isn't that the opposite of what they're for?" I asked. "They usually mean something is beginning."
"Maybe," she said. "But things that begin... also end."
I didn't know how to respond to that.
So I stayed silent, standing close but not too close.
When the final golden firework faded into the night, she spoke again.
"I'll see you tomorrow. We've still got cleanup duty."
I gave a half-hearted groan. "Of course we do."
She turned, and for the briefest moment, her fingers brushed my sleeve—deliberately, softly, as if testing whether I'd notice.
I did.
"Good night, Nozuki Ryou."
"Good night… Izumi."
She walked away.
And though the festival was over, and the night returning to stillness, I stood there a little longer—watching her figure fade into the dark, wondering what it was about her that felt like the part of me I'd been missing all along.
AUTHOR
STEP
email:Stepx2447@gmail.com