"Here." Hara Kei took a thermos from his backpack, unscrewed the lid, poured the liquid into the cap, and handed it to Shizuka Hiratsuka.
"Ah, thank you." Shizuka accepted the cap, slightly surprised. She peered at the pale orange liquid, which gave off a light, pleasant fragrance. "What is this?"
"It's a drink I made myself," Hara Kei replied, taking a sip from the thermos. "It's mostly fruit juices, with a little honey and fresh milk, mixed to my taste. If it's not to your liking, don't force yourself."
Shizuka hesitated for a moment but then mimicked him, sipping carefully. Her eyes widened in surprise—this sweet-and-sour drink was unexpectedly delicious. She restrained the urge to gulp it down in one go out of respect for her own professional composure. Finishing the sip gracefully, she returned the cap to Hara Kei. "I thought you'd be offended by my… uh… stalking behavior, and purposely give me a terrible drink as revenge."
"I'm not someone who can't tell good from bad," Hara Kei said. "A lone, withdrawn boy who disappears immediately after school for a whole month… if I were the homeroom teacher, I'd worry too. What you said earlier about a 'teacher's sense of responsibility' isn't wrong."
"…Huh." Shizuka was momentarily speechless. She had expected a child who wouldn't understand reason, someone she might need to scold, but Hara Kei was far more considerate than she'd imagined. He was at least more understanding than that black-haired girl from Chiba she'd dealt with before, and she felt unexpectedly moved.
After a small cough to collect herself, she asked, "Hara Kei, your piano playing is incredible. Why not join a school club? Even with my limited musical knowledge, I could tell the level of skill in the piece you just played. If you joined the string ensemble, you'd probably become a star immediately."
"Well… if I had to give reasons, there are many. Like 'I don't like the atmosphere there' or 'There are too many girls in the string club, and their looks are terrifying.' But the real reason," Hara Kei said deliberately, "is simple. I like being alone."
"…Excuse me?" Shizuka raised an eyebrow.
"I like to be by myself."
"No, I understood the first time. You don't need to say it another way!" She pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking, So he's a real oddball. My excitement was premature. Shizuka felt a headache coming on. "So all this time, not talking to classmates, avoiding clubs, vanishing after school… it's all because you prefer solitude?"
"Yes. Exactly."
"…Huh." Shizuka had no words. In Sakurajima, group cohesion was deeply valued. Being "antisocial" was often viewed as a grave flaw. People strived to fit in, climbing socially through grades, looks, talent, and connections, all to become someone respected and live comfortably.
Hara Kei was different. With his skills and intellect, he could shine at the top of any social hierarchy—but he stubbornly refused to change. Like a phoenix soaring high above, disdainful of the rats scurrying below.
"…Why do you like being alone?" Shizuka asked softly, her tone unconsciously gentle. Perhaps his unexpected honesty touched her, or perhaps his composed, independent demeanor inspired a sense of respect. She no longer saw him simply as a student, but as a peer capable of genuine independent thought.
"Because my time is extremely valuable," Hara Kei explained, slightly surprised at her attitude. Even in his past life in China, refusing to socialize was almost a fault; here, in this group-centric Sakurajima, it was even more frowned upon. Huh… Shizuka-sensei isn't too bad to deal with, he thought. "Interacting with others requires effort, attention, and often doing things I don't wish to. It wastes time, which I despise."
"There are only twenty-four hours in a day. I want to spend my time on things I enjoy and find meaningful. When I immerse myself fully in what I love, time passes, and suddenly the sun is setting. That, to me, is happiness. That's why I like being alone." He added silently in his mind that there was another reason, linked to his past life, but it was too complicated to explain here.
"Hm…" Shizuka bit her lip, thinking over his words. After a pause, she nodded decisively. "Very well. If that's what you feel, I respect your choice, Hara Kei."
"Eh…" For the first time, surprise flashed across Hara Kei's face. So this is what a two-dimensional teacher is like? he wondered, just before she continued:
"But liking solitude and refusing to interact with classmates are two different things! If you keep going this way, your communication skills will atrophy like a weasel's ears." Shizuka's tone became extremely serious. "Listen carefully, Hara Kei. Humans cannot survive alone. Even a genius like you would not last without a social group. If you truly dislike group life, then I'd suggest living as a hermit somewhere remote… or…"
Before she could launch into her usual, thorough lecture on social responsibility, Hara Kei's ears twitched. He seemed to hear something, and in an instant, he swiftly packed up the few things he had brought.
Shizuka watched in shock as he scaled the makeshift hill of discarded appliances and car engines with the agility of a primate, leaving only a waving back as he disappeared.
"Did… he just run away? No…" Shizuka held her breath, listening. The valley's breeze carried the distant rumble of the electric train. Trains here were infrequent, more than half an hour apart.
Hates wasting time, she mused, silently savoring those four words, and smiled.
With Hara Kei gone, Shizuka seemed to finally let go of something. She rose and sat in his spot before the massive black grand piano. The warmth of his presence lingered. Mimicking his posture, she lightly touched the yellowing keys. Clear, crisp notes flowed… but then abruptly stopped.
It was the same piano, yet the music she produced felt feeble compared to Hara Kei's. Each note lacked the force and beauty of his, leaving her frustrated.
"There really are geniuses in this world… I can't accept it," she muttered.
Unbeknownst to Hara Kei, on this very day, he had gained his first fan.