I did not see Ichika after I was free from the flu. It had been five long years since that encounter in the park, and time had transformed me, sculpting me into a different person. The memory of Ichika's kindness no longer had the same hold over my consciousness. It had blurred, softened by the gradual drift of time, yet still, it lingered like a ghost in the back of my mind.
I woke up in the morning, feeling the familiar embrace of sleep still clinging to my eyelids. Who wouldn't be sleepy on a day like this? It was the first day of school, and despite the excitement that stirred within me, my body protested the early hour.
With a yawn and a stretch, I threw back the covers and reluctantly pushed myself out of bed. The room was dimly lit, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. I could hear the distant chirping of birds outside, a reminder that the world was already awake and moving.
I shuffled my way into the kitchen, where my mother was waiting. My father had left for work an hour ago, leaving behind a quiet house that now felt emptier than usual. My mother, with her warm smile and loving nature, was determined to ensure that I started the day right. She had prepared a hearty breakfast, the aroma of fresh omelets filling the kitchen. I knew her intentions were good, but there was one thing she didn't understand about me: I rarely ate breakfast.
"Good morning, dear," my mom greeted me, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and concern. "Don't you want breakfast? At least take something with you."
I glanced at the plate of omelets, knowing that they were a labor of love. My mom always put her heart into her cooking, and her omelets were my favorite. But today, like most mornings, I couldn't bring myself to eat. The thought of food in the morning didn't appeal to me, and the idea of carrying it in my school bag for hours was even less enticing.
"No, Mom, I don't want to eat," I replied gently, offering her an apologetic smile. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate her efforts; it was simply a matter of personal preference. I wasn't typically hungry in the morning, and I preferred to eat when I returned home from school.
My mother nodded, her expression understanding. She had learned over the years that I had my way of doing things, and she respected that. "Alright, dear, but make sure to eat something when you come back. You need your energy for the day."
I promised that I would, knowing that it would ease her worries. With a quick sip of water to wash away the lingering traces of sleep, I gathered my things for school. My school bag, neatly organized and prepared the night before, was waiting for me by the door.
As I slung the bag over my shoulder, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. High school was a new beginning, a fresh chapter in my life, and I was eager to see what it had in store for me. I got my student ID for the school, Number 197, through email.
My mom whispered, "Good luck," and I stepped out of the house, ready to face the day. The streets were already alive with the hustle and bustle of commuters, each person lost in their thoughts and destinations.
The walk to the train station was a short one, a well-practiced routine that had become second nature to me. The familiar sights and sounds of my neighborhood provided a sense of comfort, but today was different. Today marked the beginning of a new adventure, one that held the promise of new friendships, challenges, and opportunities.
The train station, a bustling hub of activity, was the next step in my journey. The platform was filled with fellow students, some of whom I recognized from my previous school, while others were unfamiliar faces. The anticipation in the air was palpable, as if everyone shared in the excitement and uncertainty of the first day of high school.
I stood among the crowd, waiting for the train to arrive. As I watched the tracks, I couldn't help but reflect on the path that had led me here. High school was a time for growth, self-discovery, and the possibility of forging meaningful connections that went beyond the surface level of polite exchanges.
Suddenly, I felt someone bump into me. I looked over,
"Oh, S-Sorry," I said, and then my eyes met the girl's,
Her eyes were so beautiful.
"K-K-Kenji??"
The familiar, hesitant voice called out my name, breaking through my early morning daze. I blinked, momentarily disoriented by the unexpected sound. Did she just call me by my given name? In all honesty, I wasn't accustomed to being addressed outside of the familiar walls of my home.
"Eh?" I muttered, my voice still heavy with sleep. Rubbing my eyes, and then as if emerging from a distant memory, I recognized her.
Ichika.
Even after five long years, her face remained etched in my mind like an indelible mark. The years had changed us both, but there was no mistaking those features: the gentle curve of her smile, the warmth in her eyes, and the way her hair caught the morning light.
"I-Ichika?" I stammered, unable to contain my surprise. The bustling train station suddenly felt like a place of serendipity and unexpected reunions.
As our eyes locked in a momentary reunion, it was the first time I could see her, a beautiful girl with long, flowing black hair that caught the sunlight and framed her face like a halo. Her eyes were a beautiful blue shade. The train station buzzed with the sounds of commuters, but for Ichika and me, time seemed to stand still. I opened my mouth, but the words got stuck. She was still here, still real, and I didn't know if I wanted to smile or cry.
The train, as if on cue, arrived with a rush of air that tousled Ichika's hair, making it flow gracefully in the wind, almost taking off her cute hat that should make her head warm. It was a sight that felt almost surreal, like a scene from a long-forgotten dream. The train came to a stop before us, its doors sliding open to welcome a new wave of passengers.
With a silent understanding, we both stepped onto the train, finding seats next to each other. After all, it had been five years, and despite any lingering unease or unresolved feelings, we were no longer the children we once were.
As the train rumbled to life and carried us forward, I couldn't help but wonder about the passage of time. Five years could change a person in many ways, and I was no exception. The Kenji from five years ago had grown, matured, and learned to navigate the complexities of life. And, yes, he had also learned to harbor a measure of resentment towards Ichika.
The reasons were tangled and complex, buried beneath layers of childhood memories and unspoken words. Yet, despite any negative feelings, there was an undeniable curiosity within me, a desire to know how she had fared over the years, and perhaps, a faint glimmer of hope that the gap between us could be bridged once more.
The train rumbled on its tracks, carrying us closer to our destination. As the initial shock of our unexpected reunion began to settle, my mind raced with questions. The realization hit me like a jolt of electricity: Ichika was heading to the same high school as me.
The thought was both thrilling and perplexing. How had fate managed to weave our paths together once more after five years of separation? I couldn't help but wonder if this was a mere coincidence or if there was a deeper meaning to our reunion.
I mustered the courage to break the silence that had settled between us. "Hey, um… Ichika?" I began, my voice uncertain.
Ichika turned to me, her blue eyes meeting mine. "Y-yes?" She replied, her voice still carrying the softness that I remembered from our childhood.
My heart raced as I ventured further. "Are you going to the same high school as me?"
The question hung in the air, laden with implications and unspoken sentiments. The train continued its steady journey, the rhythmic clattering of wheels against tracks providing a backdrop to our conversation. I couldn't help but search Ichika's eyes for clues, trying to decipher her thoughts and emotions.
Ichika's gaze held a mixture of surprise and realization as my question hung in the air. It seemed that she hadn't expected our paths to cross again in this manner. She paused for a moment, her thoughts racing, before finally answering.
"Yes," she replied softly, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "I'm going to the same school."
My heart skipped a beat at her confirmation, and a whirlwind of emotions swirled within me. The universe had orchestrated this unexpected reunion, leading us to the same place once more. But what did it mean? Did it signify the revival of our childhood friendship, or was it merely a coincidence, devoid of any deeper significance?
As I contemplated the implications of our shared destination, Ichika continued to speak, her voice carrying a sense of warmth and nostalgia. "I never imagined we'd end up at the same high school, Kenji. It's been so long since we last saw each other."
"Yeah," I agreed, my voice soft but filled with genuine warmth.
The train journeyed on, and the scenery outside transformed as we neared our destination. We sat in silence for a while, lost in our thoughts, the unspoken promise of rekindling our friendship hanging between us like a delicate thread.
But there was something else that needed to be addressed, an apology that weighed on my mind. Finally, I mustered the courage to apologize, "Ichika, I-I, I'm so sorry, I-I it was not my fault, I wanted to meet you at the park b-b-but I had the flu and I couldn't move and I-"
I felt a hand on my shoulder, stopping me from saying another word. Ichika looked at me with a smile and a soft expression, with a mixture of understanding.
"Kenji, I understand, you caught the flu and couldn't make it, it was cold that day, I know, but relax, Kenji, I'm not mad at you, I was thinking you didn't want to be my friend, but it doesn't matter anymore, does it?" Ichika said with a soft and warm voice.
"Ichika," I whispered, voice cracking, "did you… Wait for me at the park?"
She nodded, just once. "Yeah. Not every day… but I passed by. A lot. Just in case."
"Why would you do that…"
"Well, you can't just hurt someone and not make up to it, can you?"
My throat tightened. The guilt hit me like a punch to the chest.
After the flu, I avoided the park. I couldn't do it, I couldn't talk to her, I didn't want her to confront me back then, and I hate myself for not going there.
I look at the same Ichika from 5 years ago, the one whom I promised to meet when I was 10.
Was it just nervousness that made me feel this way? I was nervous. Not only was I someone who had a hard time talking to people in general, but the girl I hadn't seen in five years was now sitting right next to me. Yeah, I was allowed to be nervous.
"I-Ichika," I stammered, my voice betraying my anxiety.
She turned towards me, her blue eyes curious. "Uh, yeah?"
"Give me your phone," I requested, my tone a bit more assertive despite my jittery nerves.
"Why's that?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Just give it to me," I insisted.
With a puzzled expression, she handed me her phone. I took it, my fingers fumbling slightly as I pressed the button on the side to wake it up. I swiped twice to unlock it, trying not to let her notice my initial failure. Then, I saw numbers and a text that said, 'Enter password.'
"Huh?" I muttered, my curiosity piqued. I did have a password on my phone as well, not that I was hiding anything, but everyone had some embarrassing pictures, chats, or random stuff they didn't want others to see, right? Seeing that Ichika had a password made me wonder what she might be hiding.
"Oh, let me unlock it," she said, her thumb pressing on the lower side of the phone to use her fingerprint. She didn't want to type out her password, perhaps to save time, but I couldn't help but notice her white nails. It was a small detail, but somehow, it caught my attention.
"Thank you," I said as the phone unlocked. I glanced at her home screen briefly; she had the usual apps like social media, calculator, and camera. But I didn't want to pry too much, lest she snatch her phone back from me. She watched me intently, clearly curious about what I was doing on her phone.
I opened her phone's contacts app. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"I'm just putting my number in here," I replied with a reassuring smile.
With my number entered, I needed to decide how to label my contact. "How should I label it?" I pondered aloud.
"By your name, maybe?" she suggested.
"Yeah, I know, but, like, typing my name seems kind of plain," I explained.
She raised an eyebrow playfully. "Oh, do you think I'm giving you a nickname?"
"N-no," I stammered, a bit flustered at the thought. A nickname might have been better, but I certainly wasn't expecting one.
In the end, I settled for simply typing my name on her phone: 'K,e,n,j, i..' "Here," I said as I handed her phone back.
"Thank you for stealing my phone!" she quipped with a grin.
She was joking, but the fact that I had just put my phone number in a girl's phone left me a bit surprised. I hadn't thought I was capable of doing that. I wouldn't have done it with anyone else. Why was I so comfortable, yet so uncomfortable, with her?
She did the same with my phone, marking her number in it. It was my first time getting a phone number from someone my age, and I hadn't expected it to be from a girl.
"Is the train going slower than usual?" I asked, attempting to change the subject.
Ichika chuckled. "The train is about to stop, dummy."
"In movies, trains just keep going without stopping, right?" I quipped.
"Kenji, trains are not like that in real life. They move at high speeds, and it takes time to stop them at a station," she explained patiently.
"Like airplanes?" I asked.
"Yes, like airplanes."
"But trains are on the ground, and airplanes are in the air."
"Are you playing dumb, or are you genuinely stupid?" Ichika looked at me suspiciously.
I couldn't help but smile. "I'm not that dumb."
"I 100% agree with you on that," she said sarcastically, and with that, the train came to a stop, and we continued on foot as we headed towards the new adventure that awaited us on our first day of high school.