It was April - cherry blossom season. The sun had barely crawled above the horizon, painting the sky in watercolor strokes of orange and pink. I'd chosen this particular bus stop for two reasons: it was equidistant from both the school and my apartment, and almost no one used it at 6:30 AM. Perfect for someone who values his personal space.
The bench was mine and mine alone that morning. Public infrastructure designed to be just unpleasant enough that homeless people wouldn't sleep on it, but functional enough that taxpayers wouldn't complain. I stretched out fully, using my school bag as a makeshift pillow. My legs dangled off the edge, but I didn't care. I was the first one there, which meant, by the law of the bench, it was my territory until the bus arrived.
Above me, clouds drifted aimlessly across the spring sky. No schedules, no expectations, no rules - just pure, formless freedom. I envied them. They answered to no one but the whims of the wind. Even the birds had to land eventually.
I closed my eyes, savoring these last few moments before entering another institution. Advanced Nurturing High School - a cage with nicer bars than the one I was in, but a cage nonetheless. At least this one had windows and hopefully some interesting girls.
"Excuse me."
The voice sliced through my thoughts - female, polite, but with an unmistakable edge of authority. I cracked one eye open, squinting against the morning light.
Standing over me was a girl with strawberry-blonde hair. Her uniform was pristine, every pleat of her skirt perfectly aligned, her crimson blazer buttoned all the way up despite the warm spring air. Her bright blue eyes radiated a type of earnestness I hadn't seen since... well, ever.
And because the universe has a sense of humor, behind her stood an elderly man, his weathered hands resting on a wooden cane.
I assessed them both in the span of a heartbeat.
The old man: around 70, slightly stooped posture, arthritis in his hands judging by the swelling at the knuckles.
The girl: Class Representative Type, Moral Crusader, Terminally Altruistic.
Adorable. Like watching a lamb trying to lecture a wolf on vegetarianism.
"You're taking up the entire bench," she continued. "This gentleman would like to sit down."
"Is he your grandfather?"
Her brow furrowed slightly. "No, but common courtesy dictates that you offer a seat to the elderly."
"Ah, 'common courtesy,'" I drawled, settling more comfortably into my horizontal position. "The great social anesthetic. I operate on a different principle: first come, first served. A cornerstone of capitalism, wouldn't you agree? I was here first. The bench is mine."
Her cheeks flushed pink, whether from frustration or embarrassment, I couldn't tell. Probably both.
"It's just the right thing to do!"
I let out a long, theatrical sigh. "Your passion for justice is exhausting."
I swung my legs off the bench and sat up, creating space on my temporary throne. I gestured to the empty spot beside me.
"There. The throne is abdicated. Your subject may be seated."
The girl looked like she wanted to say more - perhaps lecture me on my attitude - but instead turned to the elderly man with a triumphant smile.
"Please, sir, you can sit down now."
The old man's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled warmly. "That's very kind of you, young lady, but these old bones need to stretch. I appreciate you looking out for me, though!" He gave a friendly nod to both of us before shuffling a few steps away to check the bus schedule.
I didn't say a word. I didn't need to. I simply leaned back, stretched my arm along the back of the bench, and offered her my most smug smirk.
And what did your morality accomplish?
Her cheeks bloomed with color, the flush spreading down her neck. For a second, she looked like she might walk away. Instead, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin in defiance, and sat down in the empty space beside me.
Interesting. Most people would have retreated with their tail between their legs. She chose to occupy the contested territory.
She stared straight ahead, her posture rigid, hands folded primly in her lap. I returned my gaze to the clouds, allowing my smirk to fade into an expression of quiet amusement.
"The bus is in seven minutes," she finally said.
"I know."
"Do you always lie down on public benches?"
I turned to study her profile. "Only when I want to watch the clouds."
That caught her off guard. She glanced up briefly, then back at me.
"The clouds?"
"They're free," I said simply. "No schedules, no expectations. They just... exist."
She considered this, her brow furrowing slightly. "But they follow weather patterns. They have a purpose - to bring rain, to provide shade."
"They don't choose to bring rain," I countered. "They just do what comes naturally. Humans invented the concept of purpose."
"What's wrong with purpose?" she asked, turning to face me fully now. "Having goals gives life meaning."
"Goals are just pretty cages we build for ourselves." I shrugged. "Tell me, what's your big plan? Graduate with honors, go to a prestigious university, get a respectable job, marry a respectable person, have respectable children?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "There's nothing wrong with wanting stability."
"Stability is overrated. It's just another word for stagnation."
"And what's your grand alternative?" she challenged. "Just... doing whatever you want, whenever you want?"
"Exactly." I grinned, genuinely this time. "Maximum reward for minimum investment. Life's a game. I intend to play it by my rules."
"That's... that's selfish."
I leaned closer, invading her personal space just enough to make her uncomfortable. "Everyone's selfish. Most people just lie about it, even to themselves."
She didn't back away. "I don't believe that. People are capable of genuine altruism."
"Altruism is just selfishness in a pretty dress. You help others because it makes you feel good. Because it aligns with your self-image as a good person. That's still serving yourself."
The deep rumble of an approaching bus cut through our philosophical debate. The girl stood up, smoothing her skirt with practiced motions.
"Well, I hope you enjoy your world, then," she said, her voice cool. "I prefer to believe we have responsibilities to each other."
The bus wheezed to a stop before us, doors hissing open. I stood as well, towering over her by nearly a foot.
"Tell me your name," I said.
She hesitated, then offered a small, polite smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Honami Ichinose. And your name?"
"Toshiro Nishida. Nice to meet you, Ichinose."
She paused at the bus doors, looking back at me with those earnest blue eyes. "It's nice to meet you too, Nishida-san."
I watched her board, taking a seat near the front, her posture perfect, her gaze fixed forward. The elderly man followed, giving me a knowing wink as he passed.
I returned it with a lazy two-finger salute.