Fallen

A new Bond

I opened the door and found Yamane standing there, tears streaming down her face. Instinctively, I moved to close the door, wanting to give her privacy in her vulnerable state. However, she swiftly blocked the door with her foot and pleaded for my help. "WAIT," she cried. "I need your help, please. It's my dad, he's unconscious, and I don't know what to do!"

Feeling a sense of responsibility, I sighed and closed the door behind me. I quickly slipped on my shoes and followed Yamane to her house. As we entered, I immediately checked her father's pulse, relieved to find that he was breathing. "He seems to be fine, but it's crucial that he sees a doctor just to be safe," I reassured her.

As I made my way towards the door, ready to leave, Yamane stopped me with a request. "Could you go with me?" she asked, her voice filled with vulnerability. "I can't drive, my father won't allow it."

Sensing her desperation, I sighed once again, realizing that this was a situation where support was crucial. "Alright, just this once," I agreed reluctantly. A smile of gratitude spread across Yamane's face as we made our way to the car and drove to the hospital.

During the wait at the hospital, our conversation took a more personal turn. Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked Yamane why she wasn't allowed to drive. Her response was heartbreaking, and I could feel the weight of her past tragedies. She recounted a devastating accident that took the lives of her mother and older brother while they were on their way to their favorite cherry blossom park. I empathized with her pain, sharing my own experience of losing my little sister in a house fire.

Moved by our shared grief, Yamane asked me about my sister, wanting to know her name. Regrettably, I confessed that I couldn't remember, a fact that still haunted me. Sensing my discomfort, she dropped the subject, allowing us to focus on the present moment.

Eventually, Yamane's father regained consciousness, and he greeted me with curiosity. Mistaking our close interaction, he playfully asked if I was Ayame's new boyfriend. I quickly clarified that we were just neighbors, disappointing him momentarily. Despite that, he expressed his gratitude for my help and introduced himself as Yasuo Yamane. I reciprocated the introduction, revealing that my name was Hitori Uno, though I preferred to be called Uno.

After driving them back home, I returned to my own house and succumbed to exhaustion, falling asleep on the couch. The following day, a knock on my door startled me awake, and I found Yamane's father standing there. I let out a tired sigh and opened the door, expecting a simple thank you. However, he surprised me with a question that caught me off guard. "Do you like my daughter?" he asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Amused, I couldn't help but chuckle at the question. "No," I responded honestly. Yamane's father couldn't hide his disappointment, but he acknowledged my answer. "That's too bad," he lamented. "You would make a great husband for her. Anytime you change your mind, you are allowed to date my daughter." With that, he left, leaving me slightly bewildered by the encounter.

Needing a distraction, I headed to the grocery store to pick up some food. As I walked out, I stumbled upon a distressing scene. A girl was being sexually harassed, pleading for it to stop. Normally, I would have turned a blind eye, but they were blocking my path, forcing me to intervene.

Thinking quickly, I pretended to be the girl's boyfriend, causing the harasser to back off. I swiftly grabbed her hand and pulled her away. Once we were at a safe distance, she thanked me for stepping in. My response was curt, reminding her that she was merely in my way and advising her to run if such a situation occurred again. When she inquired about my name, I dismissed it as unimportant, believing that our paths would never cross again.

Returning home, I cooked the fried pork I had bought and then indulged in a relaxing hot bath. Reflecting on the events of the past few days, I couldn't help but marvel at how much my life had changed. I had saved someone's life, protected a stranger from harassment, and now, unexpectedly, the girl I had saved had become a new transfer student at my school.

The next day, as I sat in class, the teacher announced the arrival of a new transfer student, asking us to give her our attention. To my surprise, the new student turned out to be the girl I had rescued. She began introducing herself, but her voice trailed