Episode One: The Quiet Boy and the New Girl

The classroom buzzed with laughter and chatter as the first day of high school began. Students greeted old friends, shared stories from summer break, and filled the room with the energy of a new beginning. But in the middle of the excitement, one boy sat quietly at his desk, detached from the noise around him.

Jiro Fujimoto wore headphones—not because he was listening to music, but because they gave him an excuse not to talk to anyone. He stared out the window, lost in thought, his expression calm but distant.

Suddenly, the classroom door opened, and the teacher walked in, followed by a girl with a bright smile. Her presence was like a breeze on a summer day—warm, light, and impossible to ignore.

"This is Nazumi Matsumoto," the teacher introduced. "She just moved here, so please make her feel welcome."

Nazumi bowed politely. "Nice to meet you all. I hope we can be good friends."

As she scanned the room for a seat, her eyes landed on the empty desk beside Jiro. With a cheerful smile, she walked over and sat down. Jiro didn’t even glance at her. Instead, he kept his eyes on the blackboard, pretending to focus on the lesson.

Lunch Break – The Garden

The cafeteria was loud, crowded, and chaotic—just the way Jiro hated it. As usual, he skipped lunch and went to the school garden, his favorite hiding place. He sat on the wooden bench, headphones on, a book in hand. The garden was peaceful, the soft rustle of leaves and distant hum of voices barely reaching him.

Just as he turned a page, he heard footsteps approaching. Glancing up, he saw Nazumi walking toward him with a curious expression.

"Hey," she said with a smile. "Aren’t you going to eat? It’s break time."

Jiro didn’t reply. He just stared for a second, then returned to his book.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked, pointing to the empty spot on the bench.

He gave a small nod.

Nazumi sat down, opened a sketchbook, and began to draw. Jiro tried to ignore her, but his eyes kept drifting toward her without him realizing it. Her hair fluttered gently in the breeze, catching the sunlight. Her skin looked soft and pale, her features delicate yet striking. He stared a moment too long before quickly snapping his eyes back to the page.

Without saying a word, he stood up and walked back to the classroom, his thoughts unusually distracted.

“No. This isn’t me. I’m not going to fall that easily,” he told himself, shaking his head.

Back in the Classroom

The room was empty when Jiro returned—quiet, calm, just the way he liked it. He sat at his desk, pulled out his review book, and started reading. The silence helped him focus, though his mind still wandered back to the garden... and her.

The door opened, and Marina, the top student in their class, walked in. Her eyes met Jiro’s, and she smiled.

"Hello, Fujimoto-kun," she greeted warmly. "Can you help me carry some history books from the department office? They’re a bit heavy."

He gave a small nod and stood up without a word.

They walked together in silence. Jiro wasn’t used to talking much, especially not with girls. At the history office, as they collected the books, Marina accidentally knocked a few onto the floor. Jiro bent down and helped her gather them, placing them neatly back.

When they returned to the classroom, many of their classmates had come back from lunch. Marina thanked him, and Jiro quietly returned to his seat. But soon he overheard whispers.

"Did you see Marina and Jiro together?"

"They make a cute pair, don’t you think?"

He gritted his teeth. Rumors. Again.

He hated being the center of attention. Even more, he hated being shipped with someone he didn’t have feelings for.

And yet... even as the rumors floated in the background, his thoughts were already drifting back to the garden.

Episode Two: A Beginning of Connection

The days after their first encounter passed quietly, just like the way Jiro liked to live his life. He kept to himself—headphones on, books in hand, emotions locked away. He thought that’s how it would always be.

But Nazumi Matsumoto had a way of slipping through the spaces he didn’t even know were open.

She started sitting beside him at lunch more often, not saying much at first. She would draw in her sketchbook while he read, the two of them sharing a silence that wasn’t awkward—but rather peaceful, even comforting.

On the fourth day of school, something changed.

It was a warm afternoon. The garden’s air smelled faintly of jasmine, and the sun filtered softly through the leaves. Jiro was at his usual spot on the bench, reading a worn copy of Kafka on the Shore. He heard footsteps, again. Without looking, he already knew.

Nazumi sat down beside him, as usual. But this time, instead of drawing, she spoke.

"Do you always read that much?" she asked, glancing sideways at him.

Jiro didn’t respond right away. Then he gave a short nod.

"Books don’t ask questions. They don’t expect answers."

Nazumi smiled. "But they tell stories, don’t they? That means they’re talking to you, in a way."

Jiro looked at her, genuinely curious for the first time. "You like stories?"

"I like drawing them," she said, flipping her sketchbook around and holding it toward him.

He stared. It wasn’t just doodles—she had talent. Her sketches told entire scenes: a boy sitting under a tree, a girl sketching beside him, the garden just as it looked now.

Jiro blinked.

"That’s… us."

"Yeah," she said with a soft laugh. "I hope that’s okay."

He hesitated, then nodded again. "It’s… good."

After that day, their conversations grew slowly. At first, they were short—questions about books or sketches, favorite food, least favorite class. Nazumi asked more, and Jiro answered more than he expected he would.

During class, when the teacher wasn’t looking, she would pass him tiny folded notes with silly drawings or single-word questions like:

“Have you smiled today?”

“Do you like rainy days?”

“Do you think clouds ever get tired?”

He never responded on paper, but she always knew what he meant by his expression or the way he paused before answering verbally later on.

One afternoon, Jiro was absent. Nazumi found herself sitting alone on the bench in the garden, sketchbook open but untouched. She kept glancing at the entrance, waiting. When he finally arrived the next day, she didn't ask where he had been.

Instead, she handed him a drawing. It was of the same bench, empty under the blooming tree.

“I missed the quiet,” she said simply.

Jiro didn’t speak, but this time... he smiled.

Just a little.

That was how it began. Not with grand gestures or declarations—but with quiet moments, shared silences, and the kind of understanding that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud.

In a world where everyone else saw them as a strange pair, they found in each other something rare:

Peace.

Episode Three: Whispers in the Hallway

By mid-September, the bond between Jiro and Nazumi had become noticeable—not just to themselves, but to everyone else.

They didn’t hold hands, or sit too close, or talk loudly like couples did in teen dramas. But the way Jiro would glance toward her when she laughed… the way Nazumi would wait at the gate just to walk home at the same pace as him… those little things were enough.

Enough for classmates to start talking.

And enough for Marina to notice.

Marina was everything people expected in the ideal student—smart, composed, always at the top of the class. Her long black hair was always perfectly styled, her uniform always neat, her words always carefully chosen.

But beneath that perfect surface was a girl who craved attention. And more than anything else… she wanted Jiro Fujimoto.

Not because he talked much—not because he praised her intelligence, or asked her for help like most boys did. No. It was because he didn’t.

And Marina hated being ignored.

It began subtly.

"Jiro-kun," she called out one day during break, loud enough for people nearby to hear, "do you still want help with that history report? You know, you can come over to my house—my dad has the original texts."

Jiro blinked. "I didn’t ask for help."

She giggled. "Oh, right! I must’ve just assumed. You always look like you’re deep in thought—I thought it was about school."

Nazumi, who had just arrived at the classroom door holding a homemade lunch, paused. The moment was small, but she noticed the way Marina leaned too close. How her voice became a little sweeter than usual.

Nazumi didn’t say anything.

She just walked to her seat and sat down, her smile thinner than normal.

Later that week, the whispers returned—louder now, more frequent.

"Did you hear Marina invited Jiro to her place?"

"They’re working on a project together, right?"

"They’d look good together… you know? Same level."

Nazumi tried to ignore it. But it chipped away at her smile, one corner at a time.

The following Monday, Marina struck again.

This time during art class.

Nazumi was helping clean up the paint trays when Marina approached her from behind, her tone syrupy-sweet.

"You know, Nazumi-chan, you’re really good at drawing! It’s so nice that you have a hobby."

Nazumi blinked, not sure how to respond.

Marina continued. "Jiro-kun and I have been talking a lot lately. He’s really into books and history, you know? Sometimes it’s just easier to connect with someone who shares your level of intellect. I’m sure he appreciates your drawings though—they’re cute."

It was said with a smile. A compliment dressed as a knife.

Nazumi smiled back, polite but tight. "Thanks. I’m glad he has someone smart like you to help him."

"Oh," Marina added as she turned away, flipping her perfect hair, "and just so you know… sometimes quiet boys keep secrets. Just make sure you're not reading the wrong story."

The next day, Jiro found Nazumi at the garden bench, but something was different.

She wasn’t drawing.

She was just staring down at her sketchbook, her expression unreadable.

"Did something happen?" he asked quietly, removing his headphones.

She looked up, hesitated, then gave a small shake of her head. "No. I guess I’m just… thinking."

He nodded, but didn’t press.

After a long silence, she finally asked, “Do you… like smart girls?”

Jiro raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. “I don’t think I care about that.”

"But Marina’s smart. Pretty too."

He was quiet for a moment, then said, “You’re not Marina.”

Nazumi looked at him.

“That’s a good thing,” he added, almost awkwardly, but meaning every word.

Marina’s whispers couldn’t reach where they were sitting that afternoon.

And in that moment—under the tree, with the air warm and quiet—they knew: their bond, no matter how quiet or fragile, was real.

But this was just the beginning.

Because feelings… always invite storms.