The announcement came just after lunch on a dull Wednesday. Our homeroom teacher stood at the front of the class with an energy that made me wonder if he had some secret caffeine stash. His smile was bright enough to light up the entire room.
"A two-day cultural excursion," he said, his voice almost bubbling with enthusiasm. "We will visit temples, hike through the countryside, and stay at traditional inns. It is an opportunity to deepen your bonds and broaden your horizons."
The room was a mix of groans and excited chatter. Most of the students looked like they had resigned themselves to a break from the usual routine, while some were already whispering plans and complaining about the early mornings.
For me, a familiar tightness settled in my chest. Not the wheezing kind that the inhaler could fix, but the kind that roots itself deeper, the vague anxiety of being stuck somewhere unfamiliar, surrounded by too many people, and forced into proximity for hours at a time.
But then, from across the room, I caught Sae's eye. She gave me a quick glance, and with it came the faintest smirk. Something about that look shifted the knot inside me. If she was going, then maybe, just maybe, I could handle it. I could endure two days of crowded buses and awkward group activities if she was there.
When we arrived at the inn just outside the temple town in the countryside, the sun was setting behind thick clouds. A surprise rain had caught us on the final leg of the journey, and we were all tired, half-drenched, and hungry. Our rooms had already been assigned, and I found myself quietly relieved to be grouped with Tanaka, Minato, and a senior named Rei. Rei was quiet, mostly keeping to himself, but there was something calm about him that felt grounding.
The room was traditional. Futons laid out neatly in a row, a low wooden table at the center. The smell of tatami mats filled the space, a mix of earthiness and old wood that somehow felt peaceful. Tanaka dropped his bag with a loud thunk and stretched out like he hadn't felt his limbs all day.
"This place is nicer than I expected," he said, grinning.
"Definitely better than that moldy cabin we got last year," Minato added, rubbing his neck. He turned to us with a mischievous grin. "So, gentlemen, who's going to be the one snoring tonight?"
I answered immediately. "Not me."
Minato raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Suspiciously quick answer."
We all laughed, the easy humor easing the tightness I hadn't realized was still there. After showers and changing into yukata for dinner, we gathered in the dining hall. The food was simple but comforting. Rice, grilled fish, pickled vegetables, and miso soup. The taste reminded me of home, even if the setting was far from it.
Back in the room after dinner, the conversation shifted. Minato tossed a small snack into his mouth and eyed me with something that felt like both curiosity and challenge.
"So, Nakamura," he said casually.
I looked up, wary.
Minato smiled, like he was setting a trap. "You and Sae."
I froze. The words hung in the air, impossible to ignore.
"What about us?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
Tanaka, sitting across from me, smirked knowingly but stayed quiet. The look on his face said he already knew everything and was just waiting to watch me squirm.
Minato leaned forward, voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Look, man, I'm just saying she looks at you differently these days. You've been hanging out more, right?"
I shrugged, attempting to sound casual. "Coincidence."
Tanaka chuckled under his breath. "That's a pretty long string of coincidences."
Minato shrugged, grinning. "She pulled you away after school the other day. Sae doesn't waste time on people she doesn't like. I'm not saying this is some big romantic drama or anything."
"There is no drama," I interrupted quickly. My voice was steadier than I expected, but it lacked the sharpness I would normally use to shut down these conversations.
Minato tilted his head, studying me. "You like her?"
I looked away, not ready to say it out loud. After a long pause, I muttered, "...Maybe."
The single word shifted the atmosphere in the room. Not like a bomb going off, but like the quiet settling after a storm. The energy softened, grew warmer.
Tanaka's smile became gentler. "It suits you. You're different when she's around."
"Different how?" I asked, intrigued despite myself.
"You look like you want to be part of the world sometimes," Minato said bluntly but kindly. "It's weird. In a good way."
Rei, who had been silent until now, finally spoke in a calm voice. "Sounds like she pulled you out of whatever shell you were building around yourself."
I lay back on my futon, arm behind my head, unsure how to respond. But I didn't deny it. Because it was true.
Later that night, long after the lights were supposed to be out, I found myself awake. The moonlight slipped through the shoji doors, casting faint patterns on the ceiling that were barely visible but enough to remind me of the quiet outside.
Tanaka's steady breathing filled the room. Minato was snoring softly. Rei was asleep. And I was wide awake, thoughts drifting again and again to her.
That strange day by the river. Her amber hair catching the sunlight. The ridiculous sunglasses she tried on, giggling like she had no care in the world. Her laugh, light and contagious. That unexpected compliment she gave me, so genuine and soft it made my chest tighten.
I tried to put a name on what I felt but came up empty. I just knew it was different. New. Something shifting inside me.
What is this feeling? I asked myself, but the answer was elusive.
The next morning was wrapped in a soft mist that blurred the edges of the world. We trekked up the worn path toward the hillside temple, our voices hushed, either out of respect or lingering sleep.
Sae walked a few paces ahead of me. She had traded her yukata for casual clothes, a small camera swinging from her neck like a badge of curiosity. At one point, she turned and caught me looking, giving me a teasing look that said, "Try to keep up."
I did not say anything. I just quickened my pace to match hers.
At the temple's main hall, the guide gave the usual historical rundown, but I barely listened. I was distracted by the way Sae's hair caught the faint morning light, like it held some secret warmth in the cool air.
When the guide finished, we were allowed to explore in smaller groups. Tanaka and Minato got pulled into a game of rock-paper-scissors to decide who would buy drinks for their half of the class. I quietly slipped away, certain no one would notice.
Except someone did.
"Skipping the tour?" Sae's voice came from behind me.
I did not jump, but I wanted to.
"I hate crowds," I muttered.
"I know," she said simply. Then she pointed to a small, shaded stairwell leading down behind the temple. "There's a path back here. I found it on the pamphlet map. Bet no one else will be there."
I followed her without another word.
The trail was quiet. Birds sang overhead. A few cicadas added their hum in the background. The wind whispered through cedar leaves, carrying the scent of damp earth and moss. We ended up at a moss-covered stone bench near a half-forgotten shrine tucked into the hillside, the kind of place you only find if you are meant to.
Sae sat down first and kicked a small rock with her shoe. "Nice to breathe," she said.
"Yeah," I agreed softly. "It's peaceful."
She looked over at me. The amber light caught flecks in her hair, making it seem almost unreal. "You're different, you know."
I blinked, a bit startled. "That again?"
"No," she said, shaking her head with a faint smile. "I mean it in a new way." She tilted her head. "You let your guard down faster than I thought you would."
"Not fast enough for some," I muttered.
She smiled faintly. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."
We sat in silence for a long time, and the quiet felt comfortable, like a shared secret.
Then she added softly, "I like this side of you."
My throat suddenly felt dry. "...Why?"
"Because it feels real," she said. "Not a wall. Not a performance. Just you."
I wanted to say something back. Something about how her hair looked like warm light, or how her voice quieted the noise in my head. But the words stuck in my throat.
"Thanks," I whispered.
She leaned back and interlaced her fingers behind her head. "You owe me a real compliment one day though."
"I'll think of something," I promised, and for once, I meant it.
Later that day, we began the descent back toward the buses. The hum of conversation returned, louder and looser than the morning's quiet. I walked behind the group, hands shoved into my pockets, feeling a strange mix of calm and tension.
"Hey."
The voice stopped me cold.
Takumi stood to the side of the path, leaning against a tree with arms crossed. No sneer. No bravado. Just a quiet stare that felt heavy.
I did not say anything, but I did not walk away either.
"I wanted to say something," he began, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "About before. The fight. The boxing match. The stuff I thought about you."
I raised an eyebrow. "You coming to apologize?"
Takumi laughed shortly. "Not exactly. Not yet. I don't know how to do that. But I guess I get it now."
"Get what?"
"That you're not weak. Or weird. Or whatever crap people say when they don't understand someone."
I narrowed my eyes. "And what changed?"
"I watched how you handled yourself," he said quietly. "Even when you had every reason to bite back, you didn't. You're solid. Quiet, but solid. That's rare."
Silence stretched between us.
"I'm not saying we're going to be friends," Takumi added, shrugging. "But... respect."
Then he turned and walked away, leaving me frozen on the path, unsure how to feel.
On the bus ride back to Tokyo, I took the window seat. The trees blurred past like shadows flickering in a dream.
Sae leaned over from her row. "You good?"
I glanced at her and nodded.
Then I looked out the window again. The sky was streaked with the soft colors of late afternoon, and the wind carried the scent of rain that had already passed.
Respect from an enemy. Warmth from a friend. A smile from a girl who sees me.
Things were changing.
And maybe, just maybe, I was ready to change with them.