Starting a new chapter in his life as a student in Tokyo, Haru never expected his world to be turned upside down. Across the street, he encounters Fujiwara, an aloof and enigmatic young man with a mysterious past. As Haru grapples with unfamiliar em...
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"Haru?"
A soft voice called his name and lightly tapped on the door. He quickly closed the curtain and opened it to find a woman wearing a cozy blue sweater and jeans. She had shoulder-length hair tied up in a neat bun, and her brown eyes showed confidence and warmth, with lines around her mouth suggesting a lot of laughter.
He met her gaze, and she bowed her head. "Forgive me, this room is a bit cramped..."
"Please don't worry about it, Nishii-san. I'm really grateful for this room."
"I see that you've finished unpacking."
"Living in a ryokan taught me to be fast."
"Ah, right. I forgot you're from a busy place."
Nishii-san was a dear friend of his mother, Midori. They had been close since their teenage years when they first crossed paths in Yokohama and remained friends over the years. Learning about Haru's decision to attend university in Tokyo, Nishii-san offered him a place to stay for free. She lived alone and this upper bedroom was usually rented to university students. It was a welcome and generous gesture, given the sky-high price to rent an apartment in Tokyo. Haru gladly accepted, and he officially moved in yesterday.
She hummed a brief, familiar melody, probably a jingle from a detergent commercial on TV, before adding, "By the way, I want to introduce you to someone."
"Who?"
"Our neighbor. He lives right across the street."
That guy. Haru had been discreetly keeping an eye on him from his window before Nishii-san arrived. Even with the bruised cheek and the large bandage, he still resembled a model straight out of a clothing ad. Haru couldn't help but wonder what had happened to cause the bruise.
"We're good friends, and I often send him meals," Nishii-san added. "Since you and him are about the same age, I thought it'll be great if you two could become friends."
"That's very considerate of you. Thank you."
They went downstairs, paced through the hallway and halted at the foyer. Nishii-san handed him a bowl wrapped in plastic. "Can you give this to him, please?"
Haru peeked inside the bowl. "Takenoko?"
"Perfect timing, don't you think?"
They shrugged into their coats and stepped out, greeted by a gentle breeze carrying pink sakura petals along the street. In the distance, the towering skyscrapers of the city loomed, stark against the simplicity of his quaint hometown in Nara Prefecture, Yoshino. Though he had never set foot in the capital before, he had seen Tokyo countless times on TV and the internet, well aware of its bustling metropolis. As he took in the grandeur of the scene, he couldn't shake the feeling of insignificance and a tinge of being out of place. He was, in essence, a foreigner—an "inaka-jin" as Tokyoites might brand him: a countryside dweller. Nevertheless, this was home now, and he was determined to make himself as comfortable as possible.
