Ai's POV
A sterile scent hangs in the medical room—too clean, too white, too much like every time I've been here before. Which is more than any normal person should.
I sit on the squeaky bed, legs swinging idly. Kiko has already left to return to class. My nose is no longer bleeding, and I feel.... Nothing. Literally. But I'm used to that.
The door creaks open and I glance up, expecting Nurse Ren again, but it's not her.
Haru.
He peeks in like he's unsure if I bite.
"You alive?" he asks.
"My soul is sitting here." I reply dryly.
He steps in, looking too casual for someone who just saw a girl nosebleed mid-math.
"That was kinda dramatic," he says, sliding into the chair next to the bed. "You planning to donate your blood to nature?"
"Huhh..?"
"You don't understand see, the blood –stained shirt you'r wearing now is going to wash in water." He started explaining.
"Hmm..." I agreed.
"So the blood cells go to sewage and then treated means makeover and then goes to the ocean. That means you're donating your blood to the nature."
"Really!?!" I...I really appreciate his efforts to explain me that. Nonsense.
He leans forward. "Take care, okay?" Seriously. That didn't look good.
I stare at him for a moment. No jokes? No smirk? Not even a smart comment about my paper mache books?
"Hmm.." I say and nodded. Nodded like a robot with defect.
He nods, stands, gives a two-finger wave, and walks out without another word.
New day. Same classroom. Same subtle desire to blend into the paint on the walls.
I enter just as the bell rings and find my seat in the back. Everything seems normal until I notice the chair in front of me isn't empty.
Occupied.
New student.
A new guy is sitting there. Black jacket on his uniform, black shiney messy hairs and looking so clean like he bathed 7 times before coming to school.
I blink.
Okay. New seatmate. No big deal. Probably just another overachiever.
I pull out my notebook and begin scribbling random thoughts about fictional dragons who do taxes. Just to stay calm.
Two periods pass, and I am quiet. Invisible. Like I want to be. Ignored Haru for two periods.
Until Fruit Break.
I fish my orange juice out of my bag, the condensation already making my fingers cold. I pop the straw in.
And then—
"Still alive?" Haru's voice cuts in as he appears beside me.
"A little more ghostly than yesterday," I reply, sipping.
He grins. "Did you know you bled on your desk? That's a power move."
"Did you know sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?"
"Only when it's not mine."
He plops down beside me, glancing at the kid in front of us. "New seatmate?"
"Yeah."
"He looks like the type to correct your grammar in a fistfight."
I snort.
Then he says something—I don't remember what—but it's funny. Stupid. But funny.
And I laugh.
That's when it happens.
A sudden jolt in my hand.
The orange juice slips.
The lid pops.
It explodes.
Right.
Onto the back of Neat Seatmate's pristine white shirt.. and my shirt also
Wait... Why did he take off his black jacket!?!
Time. Stops.
He freezes.
I freeze.
Even Haru freezes.
Then, like a glacier breaking apart—
"WHAT. THE. HELL?!"
Neat Seatmate turns around slowly, his eyes locked onto me like he just uncovered the reason his ancestors died in battle.
"Did you—Did you just SPILL JUICE on me?!"
Still holding that juice box into my hands as evidence.
I blink. "It was the straw's fault. It... rebelled."
Haru is wheezing beside me.
"You think this is funny?!" the boy hisses.
"Only if you look at it with enough irony," Haru says between giggles.
I try to look apologetic. I really do. Puppy eyes. Guilt dialed to 11.
The boy glares, lips tight, anger fuming—but stops. Just stares at me. My dripping straw. My tragic expression.
Then without another word, he grabs his bag and stomps off to the restroom.
I lean back and exhale.
"That," Haru says, "was glorious."
"Really?!" I reacted and also moved towards the restroom.
Lunch Break Again.
I barely recover from the Orange Juice War when Kiko shows up like clockwork, noodle container in hand.
"Let me guess," he says. "You're embarrassed because of that orange juice."
I narrow my eyes. "Do you have cameras on me or something?"
He shrugs. "The eyes talks."
We sit. Eat. Slurp.
He brought miso noodles, and they smell like salvation.
"If you keep feeding me," I say, "I might get too attached."
"That's the plan. Then I'll start charging."
We talk about nonsense. Cartoon themes. Socks with holes. Whether the school nurse is secretly a ninja.
He wipes soy sauce from my cheek like it's casual. Like he's my older brother or part-time babysitter. And maybe he is, in a way.
Then he stands.
"Tell Emi I'm coming over tonight."
"For dinner?" I grumble.
"Yah."
He taps the top of my head lightly. "Eat dessert if you can."
And then he's gone.
Haru drops down beside me, looking mildly interested for once.
"That guy—Kiko. Who is he?"
"Kiko. My best friend."
He raises an eyebrow. "Just that?"
"Families know each other. His mom works with Emi, my sister. They're both doctors. He comes over a lot. Gives me notes. Feeds me like a toddler."
Haru studies me like I just revealed I'm half mermaid.
"What?" I ask.
He shrugs. "You're full of surprises. Who thinks that kiko is your bestie."
"I'm full of surprises. I know."
He nods slowly. "Mostly wet ones."
I throw an eraser at him.
I'm home now... Barely passes today.
Emi is waiting at the door.
Stethoscope around her neck. Perfect eyeliner. Disapproval leaking from her pores.
"Orange juice?" she says before I even open my mouth.
I pause. "It... had ambitions."
She sighs deeply, tossing me a fresh towel. "Shower. Change. And try not to start a juice-based war tomorrow."
"No promises."
She mutters something about teenagers and the downfall of hygiene as I retreat into my room.
And just like that, another day ends.
Juice –1. Dignity– 0.