-CLASSROOM 1-B, AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE, SAPPORO, HOKKAIDO, JAPAN-
-10:41 AM, NOVEMBER 17, 2016-
Snow brushed faintly against the classroom windows, melting the moment it touched the glass.
Ichika Komori sat at her desk, chin resting lightly against her hand, eyes fixed on the blackboard—but not really seeing it.
"…Komori-san?"
She blinked. "Yes?"
The teacher paused mid-sentence. "Would you like to read the next line?"
"Oh—yes. Sorry."
She stood, voice steady as she read aloud, though her thoughts lagged behind her words. When she sat back down, her fingers tightened around her pen.
She hadn't meant to think about him this much.
Rikuu Arakawa. His voice on stage. The way he listened. The space he didn't retreat from.
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't obvious.
That made it worse.
"Earth to Ichika."
Kiyomi Mizuhara leaned over from the seat behind her, whispering, "You've been staring into space since homeroom."
Ichika smiled faintly. "Have I?"
Misuzu Kanzaki, seated beside Kiyomi, glanced over thoughtfully. "You seem… distracted lately."
"I'm fine," Ichika said quickly. Too quickly.
The bell rang, saving her from further questions.
-SCHOOL HALLWAY, AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE-
-12:03 PM, NOVEMBER 17, 2016-
Ichika walked between Misuzu and Kiyomi, lunch bag tucked under her arm.
"You've been quiet in the theatre club too," Kiyomi said, swinging her bag. "Which is weird, because you like it there."
Ichika hesitated. "I do."
"Then what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she replied softly. "I just… didn't expect it to feel like this."
Misuzu tilted her head. "Like what?"
Ichika stopped walking.
She searched for the right word—but none of them felt safe enough to say out loud.
"…Close," she finally answered.
Kiyomi's eyes widened. "Oh."
Misuzu didn't smile. She simply nodded. "That makes sense."
Ichika looked down. "I don't want to make things complicated."
"But you already feel something," Kiyomi said gently.
Ichika didn't deny it.
-THEATRE ARTS CLUB ROOM, AURORA ACADEMY OF EXCELLENCE-
-4:14 PM, NOVEMBER 17, 2016-
Rehearsal was lighter today.
No heavy scenes. No paired readings.
Ichika sat near the back, script open but untouched.
Rikuu stood on stage, adjusting the lights with another member. He laughed briefly at something said offhand—quick, rare.
The sound caught her off guard.
She realized then—
She didn't just admire his acting.
She liked the moments when he forgot to be guarded.
When rehearsal ended, Rikuu walked past her.
"…Komori."
She looked up immediately. "Yes?"
"You okay today?" he asked, voice casual—but his eyes searched her face.
Ichika hesitated.
She could say yes. She could say nothing.
Instead, she said, "…I'm trying to be."
Rikuu studied her for a moment, then nodded.
"…Good."
He left first.
Ichika remained seated, heart beating a little faster than it should have.
She pressed a hand to her chest, breath shallow.
She wanted more time. More words. More honesty.
But wanting wasn't the same as asking.
And Ichika Komori had always been careful—
Especially with things that mattered.