Cold Air December

Lunchboxes

"Sakurajima-senpai, why do you have two lunchboxes?"

The question came out innocently enough, but there was a hint of curiosity behind it, almost as if she had stumbled upon something unexpected. Her eyes flickered between the two neatly packed lunches, trying to make sense of what she saw. There was something strangely endearing about the scene—Sakurajima-senpai, always so composed, with not one but two perfectly prepared bento boxes laid out before her. It was an oddity that begged for an explanation.

Sakurajima-senpai was alone.

It was a sight that seemed all too familiar. After all, not many students ever saw her chatting with someone or spending time in the company of others. So, seeing her by herself felt like the norm. Even when she had a boyfriend, that didn't really change much.

But to clarify, this only applied within the school grounds. Outside, you could sometimes catch a glimpse of them walking side by side on their way to or from school. It wasn't an unusual sight in the early mornings, if you happened to be there at the right time. However, once they stepped inside the school, the two of them rarely seemed to meet.

It made sense, given their different grades. Azusagawa-senpai was a second-year, and Sakurajima-senpai a third-year. Different grades meant different classrooms, often on entirely separate floors. And besides, Sakurajima-senpai wasn't the type to go out of her way to visit her boyfriend during those fleeting moments between classes. That just wasn't who she was.

But the truth was, they did meet—quietly, without drawing attention. Not many knew, but during lunch breaks, the two would have their meals together in an empty classroom on the third floor. I wasn't just relying on rumors to know this; I had witnessed it myself once, purely by accident.

The empty classroom wasn't a place many people went to. If you wanted to avoid others, or simply be alone with someone, it was the perfect spot. Normally, though, there wouldn't be much reason for that—unless you were living a life full of rare occurrences.

Because of this, most people thought Sakurajima-senpai was always alone.

Today, too, Mai Sakurajima was alone.

But now, that was simply the way things had to be. There was nothing I could do about it, nor did I think there was anything she expected from me.

Still, I couldn't help but be concerned. I wasn't entirely a stranger to her, after all. Others might not notice the subtle differences in her usual demeanor, but I could. The reason for that difference was all too clear to me, which is why the change stood out so starkly.

She seemed fragile, as if she might break at any moment. That worried me deeply.

An insistent voice echoed in my mind, telling me I had to do something.

Two weeks had passed since that day—though winter break had filled some of that time. But now, I saw her again, heading toward the empty classroom all by herself.

Even though Azusagawa Sakuta was no longer here.

From outside the window, I quietly peeked into the classroom.

There she was. Mai Sakurajima, sitting at a desk by the window, her lunch spread out before her.

She didn't appear to be sad or grieving. She was just quietly eating her lunch, wordlessly.

At the last moment, I lost the courage to approach her.

I stepped back, giving myself a brief moment to gather my thoughts. I realized, all too late, that I hadn't even considered what I would say to her. But I couldn't just stand there, frozen in place. Unfortunately, lunch break wasn't going to wait for me.