The Boy Behind the Curtain

It was the kind of morning that smelled like chalk dust and just-sharpened pencils. The corridors buzzed with half-awake greetings, and the familiar slam of shoe lockers echoed like a soundtrack to a new school term. Third-year Class 2 was slowly filling up — same old chairs, same old desks, and mostly the same old people.

Except for one.

Kaoru Nishida was just about to plop into his seat near the window when he noticed him — the boy sitting in the back corner, head down, long bangs hiding half his face. Kaoru blinked. Was this guy always in their class?

“Yo, Kaoru!”

Saki Tsukino, with her strawberry hairclips and loud footsteps, flopped into the seat in front of him. She turned around dramatically. “Did you notice the mysterious transfer student?”

“Transfer? In third year?” Kaoru raised an eyebrow. “That’s practically social suicide.”

“He transferred last semester,” Saki whispered. “But no one talks to him. People say he only comes to school half the week.”

Kaoru glanced again. The boy’s nameplate read Minami Haruto. Definitely not a familiar face.

“He talks to no one,” Saki continued, clearly relishing the gossip. “But I heard he once helped a lost cat. So he’s not evil.”

Kaoru snorted. “What a complex character.”

Despite Saki’s commentary, Kaoru found himself watching Haruto during homeroom. While the teacher droned on about exam schedules, Haruto scribbled something into a sketchbook, completely tuned out. His hands were pale, nimble — the way they moved looked practiced, almost like they had their own rhythm.

It wasn’t until lunch that something odd happened.

Kaoru had escaped to the rooftop for his usual quiet lunch — bread from the canteen and carbonated soda — when he saw someone already there.

Haruto.

He was sitting cross-legged near the water tank, unpacking a lunch box filled with neatly arranged food. It looked… homemade. Surprisingly cute.

Their eyes met for a split second.

Haruto blinked, visibly startled. “Oh. Sorry. I’ll leave.”

Kaoru held up a hand. “Nah, you were here first. I’m just crashing.”

Haruto hesitated, then nodded.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the wind brushing past them like an awkward third wheel. Kaoru chewed thoughtfully.

“So,” he said, voice casual, “you’re Minami Haruto, right?”

“…Yeah.”

“You’re kind of infamous.”

Haruto didn’t respond. He just poked a cherry tomato with his chopsticks.

Kaoru tried again. “You draw during class?”

Haruto paused. Then, slowly, he reached into his bag and handed Kaoru the sketchbook.

Inside were pages filled with stunning pencil art. Not just anime-style doodles — but full scenes. School corridors. Rainy windows. People laughing. He flipped a page and froze.

It was a drawing of their classroom.

More specifically — of him. Sitting by the window, looking bored.

Kaoru raised an eyebrow. “Are you… stalking me?”

Haruto flushed. “N-No! It’s just… you look like a character. I mean, your face. It has lines. Good ones. Expressive.”

“That’s a weird compliment,” Kaoru grinned. “But I’ll take it.”

Haruto didn’t smile, but his shoulders relaxed a little.

“So what’s your deal?” Kaoru asked. “Why the mystery act?”

“I hate crowds,” Haruto admitted. “People are noisy. Complicated.”

Kaoru nodded. “True. But they’re not all bad.”

Haruto glanced at him. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Neither are you. I thought you’d growl if I talked to you.”

A pause. Then—was that a smile?

“Thanks,” Haruto said. “For not being… weird about it.”

Kaoru grinned. “We’re literally eating lunch on the roof like anime side characters. We are exactly weird.”

From that day on, rooftop lunches became a thing.

Haruto never initiated conversations, but he listened. Kaoru talked about video games, about Saki’s obsession with pop idols, about his dream of skipping the university entrance exams entirely and becoming a café barista in Kyoto.

Haruto eventually opened up too — little by little. He shared his love for drawing, how he wanted to make webcomics, but didn’t like sharing them with people. He once got teased for his art in middle school, and since then, he stopped showing anyone.

“But you showed me,” Kaoru pointed out.

Haruto shrugged. “You’re different.”

Kaoru wasn’t sure what that meant. But he liked how it sounded.

A week later, Saki cornered Kaoru after school.

“Are you and the ghost-boy dating?”

Kaoru almost dropped his juice box. “What?! No!”

“Well, he smiled at you. That’s like a full confession in Haruto-language.”

Kaoru tried to brush it off, but the idea stuck with him. Haruto did seem… warmer, these days. More open. Like a window slowly being cracked.

Maybe they weren’t just friends.

Or maybe they were just weird enough to be something in between.

One afternoon, Kaoru brought a can of soda to the rooftop and found Haruto already there, sketching again.

He sat down beside him, handed him the drink.

Haruto looked at it. “Strawberry?”

“Thought you’d like it. It’s pink and weird, like you.”

Haruto chuckled. “Thanks.”

They sipped in silence for a while. Then Kaoru leaned back and said:

“So, wanna keep this our little secret?”

Haruto blinked. “What secret?”

“That we’re friends. I don’t want Saki turning it into some school-wide drama.”

“…Sure.”

Kaoru smiled. “Cool. It’s just between us and the bell rings.”

Haruto looked down at his sketchbook, then up at the sky. The clouds were slow and heavy, the kind that looked like they were hiding stories.

He drew something quickly — a doodle of two boys sitting on a roof, drinks in hand, laughter in the air.

He titled it: “Scene One.”

☆Author's Note: Hey there, readers!

Welcome to the first episode of Between Us and the Bell Rings! This story is close to my heart—filled with quiet moments, unexpected laughter, and the kind of bonds that change you. If you’re into school-life drama, soft comedy, and hidden feelings between friends… you’re in the right place.

ALSO just a heads-up—the current COVER is TEMPORARY! I’m WORKING on a custom-drawn version that reflects the story’s full emotion and vibe. I’ll be updating it SOON once the art is READY,so stay tuned!

Thanks for starting this journey with me.

— Unknown by Ink

Title: Between Us and the Bell Rings

Episode 2: Saki Smells Suspicion

“Minami Haruto. Age 17. Favorite color: grey. Social level: level 1 mushroom.”

Saki Tsukino held a notepad with Haruto’s name scribbled in bubble letters and doodles of suspicious-looking eyes. She squinted at Kaoru from across the lunch table in the cafeteria.

“You’ve been spending too much time with him,” she accused, poking a fish stick like it owed her money.

Kaoru shrugged, sipping miso soup. “We just eat lunch. Sometimes we talk about… things.”

Saki narrowed her eyes. “That’s how friendship begins, Kaoru. You swore you wouldn’t betray me with rooftop traitor energy.”

Kaoru chuckled. “Relax, Saki. You’re still my number one loudmouth.”

Saki rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. “You better not be hiding secrets from me.”

Kaoru paused mid-chew. If only she knew.

Ever since the rooftop lunches began, Haruto had slowly become a part of Kaoru’s daily routine. They’d started walking to the school gate together, trading sarcastic remarks and random facts about pigeons and conspiracy theories. Haruto had even drawn a caricature of Kaoru as a talking donut wearing glasses.

It was hideous. And weirdly flattering.

Still, Kaoru kept it quiet. Not because he was ashamed—but because he liked it. Their secret little world above the school, away from the chaos below.

But Saki wasn’t buying the silence.

The next day, she showed up on the rooftop.

Uninvited.

“Yo.”

Haruto and Kaoru looked up mid-lunch, both blinking in unison like startled cats.

“What the—Saki?!”

Saki plopped down next to them, opening a glittery pink lunch box. “I figured I’d join you. Just once. You know, to see what the fuss is about.”

Haruto stiffened, clutching his chopsticks like a weapon. Kaoru gave her a helpless look.

She ignored both reactions. “You weren’t going to tell me you made a new friend?”

“We didn’t make friendship bracelets,” Kaoru muttered.

Haruto glanced sideways, clearly uncomfortable. But Saki was undeterred.

“So, Haruto,” she said sweetly, “what’s your backstory? Kaoru says you’re secretly a prince in hiding.”

Haruto blinked. “What.”

Kaoru choked on his rice ball. “I did not say that.”

“Well, it would explain the air of mystery,” Saki went on. “And the way you don’t talk to anyone. Classic anime prince move.”

“I just don’t like noise,” Haruto muttered.

Saki leaned closer. “So why do you talk to Kaoru?”

Haruto looked at Kaoru, then looked away. “…He talks like white noise.”

Kaoru gaped. “Was that an insult or a compliment?”

“Maybe both,” Haruto said, a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

Saki gasped. “You can smile?!”

Haruto looked away, ears pink.

Saki grinned. “Okay. I like you. You’re weird.”

Kaoru sighed. “Please don’t adopt him.”

But something shifted after that. Haruto started showing up more regularly. He’d still vanish some days, but on others, he’d hang around while Saki teased Kaoru about his messy handwriting, or while the three of them shared weird snacks and terrible cafeteria puns.

It wasn’t long before others started noticing.

One afternoon, as the trio was leaving school, class rep Kento stopped Kaoru near the bike rack.

“You’re friends with that Haruto guy now?” he asked, arms crossed.

Kaoru nodded. “Yeah. Why?”

Kento frowned. “Just… be careful. He’s kind of a loner. Some kids say he punched a teacher once.”

Kaoru stared. “Seriously? That’s not true.”

Kento shrugged. “Just saying. He’s got a record.”

Kaoru clenched his fists, ready to snap back—but Haruto appeared out of nowhere, stepping between them.

“I didn’t punch anyone,” he said coolly. “But thanks for caring.”

Kento flinched, then muttered something and left.

Haruto didn’t look at Kaoru.

“Thanks,” Kaoru said softly.

Haruto shrugged. “I don’t need defending.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t try.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Haruto whispered, almost too quiet:

“…I didn’t expect this.”

“What?”

“To be noticed. Or liked.”

Kaoru smiled. “Well, too bad. You’re stuck with us now.”

Saki popped her head between them from behind. “Heck yeah he is!”

Haruto nearly jumped.

Kaoru groaned. “Stop doing that.”

“I sensed drama and ran,” she said proudly.

As the three of them walked home together for the first time, something warm settled between them.

A new kind of rhythm.

A new kind of secret.

And perhaps, the start of a story that would take fifteen episodes to finish—but a lifetime to remember.

Title: Between Us and the Bell Rings

Episode 3: The Secret Under the Desk

Every school has a mystery.

Sometimes it’s a hidden stairwell. Sometimes it’s that one vending machine that only accepts coins from 1994.

In Class 2-B, the mystery lived under the third desk from the window—Haruto’s desk.

Saki had noticed it first.

“Kaoru,” she whispered one morning, nudging him with her elbow as their math teacher scribbled half-heartedly on the whiteboard, “do you see that?”

Kaoru looked up from doodling a dinosaur in his notebook. “See what?”

“Under Haruto’s desk. He’s hiding something.”

Kaoru leaned sideways and squinted. Indeed, taped to the underside of Haruto’s desk was something small, wrapped in colorful paper. It looked like… candy?

Saki’s eyes sparkled. “I knew it. He’s a secret candy hoarder.”

Kaoru deadpanned, “Saki, you’re a candy hoarder.”

“Don’t project.”

After class, Saki bolted to Haruto’s desk the second he left to refill his water bottle. Kaoru reluctantly followed, already predicting disaster.

Saki crouched, yanked the wrapper, and gasped.

It was candy.

But it was also a tiny note, folded neatly beneath the wrapper.

“Don’t read it,” Kaoru warned.

Saki already had it open.

“Bad days don’t last forever. Eat something sweet.”

Kaoru blinked. “That’s… surprisingly wholesome.”

Saki looked thoughtful. “Do you think he wrote it for himself?”

But just then, Haruto walked back in. His eyes flicked down to the now-exposed underside of the desk. Then to the empty wrapper in Saki’s hand. Then to the wide-eyed duo hovering guiltily nearby.

A long, painful pause.

“…Did you just rob me?”

“Borrowed!” Saki said quickly. “It’s an emotional loan!”

Haruto stared. “That was mine.”

“You left candy with motivational quotes taped under your desk,” Kaoru said. “That’s like feeding squirrels and being surprised when they come back.”

Haruto snatched the paper and shoved it in his pocket, ears red. “I made those for someone else.”

“Who? Yourself?” Saki teased.

Haruto looked away. “My brother.”

Kaoru blinked. “You have a brother?”

Haruto hesitated, then nodded slowly. “He’s in middle school. Gets anxious a lot. I leave him little things in his bag, lunch box… and sometimes here, when he visits.”

Saki was quiet for a moment.

Then she gently placed another candy on the desk. “This one’s from me. Tell him to hang in there.”

Kaoru added a post-it: “Being weird is cool. - K”

Haruto didn’t say anything. But he didn’t throw them away.

That Friday, something strange happened.

At lunch, Haruto showed up with three bento boxes.

Kaoru blinked. “Did you start meal-prepping?”

Haruto passed one to each of them without a word.

Inside Kaoru’s box was a neatly folded egg roll with “K” drawn in ketchup.

Saki’s rice had a tiny seaweed cut-out shaped like a cat.

Haruto’s? Just plain white rice. With a single note taped inside the lid.

“You’re allowed to care, too.”

Kaoru said nothing.

Saki sniffled.

And somewhere between bites of overly peppered chicken, Kaoru realized something:

Their friendship wasn’t just rooftop lunches and sarcasm anymore.

It was trust.

And maybe… healing.

Even the kind hidden under a desk.