"Let's get started."
I hadn't realized my pen had been hovering over the same blank page until it slipped from my hand, clattering against the desk with a soft clink. I blinked and suddenly, I was back. Back in the lecture hall. Back in this too-bright room filled with too many people pretending to care about things they'd forget the moment they walked out the door.
The professor's voice droned on, white noise against my wandering thoughts. I glanced down at my notebook—mostly blank, except for what looked like a rough sketch of an empty room.
When did I even start drawing that?
Sleep had slipped just out of reach last night—not the "I stayed up too late" kind, but the kind where your thoughts tangle, dragging you from one unfinished idea to another. It felt like my mind was stuck in an endless loop of everything and nothing all at once.
I tried to focus. Really, I did. But my eyes kept drifting uncontrollably. The girl in front of me was on her phone, scrolling every thirty seconds. No new notifications popped up, but she checked anyway. Waiting for someone? A habit?
My own phone vibrated softly in my pocket. I didn't check it. I didn't need to. The knot in my stomach tightened, but I ignored it—ignored him. Not now. Not today.
"Yo, you in there?"
A familiar voice pulled me into reality, followed by the heavy thud of a bag hitting the floor. I turned just as Tanaka dropped into the seat beside me with the subtlety of a car alarm. His easy grin was in place, but his eyes darted down to my notebook before I could react.
In one smooth motion, I slid the notebook shut and pushed it to the side. "Yeah, just tired," I said, keeping my tone light.
"Right. Except you've got that look again." His tone stretched the word, but his smirk didn't waver. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms like someone who knew they were about to enjoy a show.
"You know, you've been… off these past couple of days," Tanaka said, as if he was actually giving it thought. "Never responding to any messages, dodging study nights because you're 'busy.'" He paused, narrowing his eyes. "So, what gives?"
I gave him a slow blink, just enough to convey mild irritation. "Keeping you from failing is a full-time gig. I need my off-days."
Tanaka laughed, but his eyes stayed on me. Not in an accusatory way—he wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer—but in that vaguely concerned way people look at someone they're not sure how to approach. Then his face brightened. He leaned in conspiratorially, his grin sharpening.
"Wait. Could it be…?"
I tilted my head, waiting.
Tanaka's expression turned mock-serious. "You've got a sneaky link, don't you?"
I just stared at him, hoping he'd realize just how stupid he sounded. Finally, I let out a sigh, shaking my head.
Tanaka finally broke, snickering. "Man, you're no fun. Can't even give me a reaction."
I laughed along with him, though I could tell he wasn't fully convinced. His grin lingered as he leaned in again, clearly ready to dig deeper, when someone dropped into the seat on my other side with a deliberate thud.
"What are you two idiots talking about this early?" a voice asked, a bag dropping onto the desk next to me with practiced nonchalance.
The tone was the perfect mix of sarcasm and seriousness, effortlessly confident in a way that could only belong to one person.
Natsuki.
She slid into the seat beside me, a faint trace of vanilla and lavender trailing after her. Dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, with a silver clip barely keeping her bangs in check. Curiosity danced in her onyx eyes, while an oversized navy hoodie draped casually over ripped jeans and scuffed sneakers—a look that turned "I barely tried" into an art form.
Tanaka drummed his fingers on the table, all too happy to fill her in. "Hiroshi's been acting mighty suspicious, claiming that he's busy every night. Very shady behavior."
Natsuki smiled, giving him a light shove. "Maybe he just needed a break—from you."
Ah, my savior.
Tanaka clutched his chest like she'd shot him. "So cruel. Both of you."
"Empathy isn't exactly your strong suit, Tanaka," Natsuki said, clearly amused.
"Ouch," he replied, looking genuinely offended. "I can be sensitive, you know."
Natsuki laughed, light but short-lived. She nudged my arm with her elbow. "So what's up? You're usually scribbling down notes like a madman. Today you're just… staring into space."
I shifted uncomfortably. Natsuki wasn't the type to pry, but she was sharp. Too sharp sometimes. "Just tired, I guess. Stayed up late finishing some homework."
She watched me for a moment, her gaze sharp but thankfully brief. "Whatever it is, don't overthink it. You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one you get before exams, like you're constipated, or trying to lift something off the ground with your mind."
I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could get a word out, she shoved her phone screen in my face. There it was—undeniable proof. I had that look.
Do I always look like that?!
"Yes, Hiroshi. You always look like that," Tanaka chimed in, his laugh loud enough to draw a few glances from our classmates.
"Could you not read my mind so loudly?" I snapped, but that only made Tanaka double over, cackling even harder.
Tanaka wasn't just a friend—he was a constant in my life. We'd been close since junior high, bonded by a mutual love of avoiding anything remotely athletic. His easy humor had always paired well with my quiet sarcasm, and somehow, we'd been stuck together ever since. Even now in college, he hadn't changed much: still loud, still mooching off my notes, and still driving me insane.
Natsuki chuckled softly, turning her attention back to the professor as her fingers began tapping away on her laptop. The rhythmic clicking was oddly comforting, and I found myself relaxing just a bit. She had a knack for reading people, but she also knew when to pull back—a balance I appreciated more than I'd ever admit.
The lecture dragged on, the professor's monotone voice fading into the low murmur of side conversations. By the time it finally ended, I felt like my brain had been wrung dry. Natsuki shut her laptop with a decisive click, slipping it into her bag before glancing over at me.
"You up for lunch?" she asked casually, standing and stretching. Her hoodie lifted slightly, revealing a glimpse of a silver belly button piercing.
Tanaka perked up instantly. "Finally! I'm starving. Hiroshi, you're buying, right?"
I rolled my eyes. "When am I not?"
The class ended in a blur of shuffling feet and chair scrapes. Outside, the midday sun greeted us, casting streaks of gold across the campus. Trees branches swayed softly in the breeze, scattering patches of shade along the walkway. The air carried the tempting aroma of food from the cafeteria, mingling with the earthy scent of freshly cut grass.
Brick buildings towered around us, their windows reflecting the clear blue sky. As we approached the cafeteria, the atmosphere shifted—voices grew louder, blending with the clatter of trays and chairs. The glass doors slid open, and the energy of the room pulled us in.
Tanaka immediately zeroed in on the hot food line, while Natsuki and I followed at a more leisurely pace. She grabbed a small bowl of soup and a fruit cup—her usual—and I went for a sandwich and coffee. Once we'd collected our trays, we found a table near the window, where sunlight poured in, making the bustling cafeteria feel just a bit less overwhelming.
Tanaka dug into his food like he hadn't eaten in days, pausing only to gesture with his fork as he spoke. "You know," he began, his mouth half-full, "I've been thinking of starting a little side hustle."
"Is it legal?" I asked dryly.
"Why does everyone keep asking that?" he groaned, throwing his hands up dramatically.
"Because we know you," Natsuki replied, stirring her soup. "Chances are, it probably involves bending some kind of rule."
"Wow. My entrepreneurial spirit deserves respect," Tanaka shot back. "Keep that attitude up, and you'll end up working the same job as your dad."
Without missing a beat, he launched into loud, exaggerated barking noises. His grin grew as he glanced at Natsuki, clearly amused by his own antics and itching to provoke her.
Her expression didn't flinch. She gave him a sharp side-eye that could've cut through steel.
Tanaka immediately stopped, clearing his throat awkwardly and stabbing at his food like it suddenly deserved his full attention.
Natsuki let the silence settle for a moment longer, her spoon hovering over her bowl as if she were deciding whether or not to respond. Finally, she sighed. "You're lucky I have more patience than my dad."
"Yeah, yeah," Tanaka muttered, clearly trying to deflect as he stabbed at his food. " "You're lucky I'm charming enough to get away with it."
Charming? Has Tanaka ever been charming?
I sifted through years of memories with him, searching desperately for even one instance where the word "charming" could apply. My brows furrowed as I dug deeper, the mental effort almost physically painful. Natsuki caught the expression on my face and let out a loud snort, breaking the tension.
"Don't hurt yourself," she said, wiping a tear from her eye. "It's not worth it."
"You two are ganging up on me again," Tanaka said, jabbing his fork at us like it was a weapon. "But for the record, I am charming. Ask anyone."
He glanced at his phone, then shot to his feet, grabbing his tray with exaggerated urgency. "Speaking of which, I just remembered—I gotta run. Important business."
"What kind of important business?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
Tanaka simply put a finger to his lips and grinned, his annoyingly smug expression making me regret asking. Without another word, he bolted, leaving behind an empty seat, a half-finished soda, and absolutely no explanation—like the entire conversation had been some bizarre fever dream.
I turned to Natsuki. "Should we be worried?"
"Probably," she replied with a grin, sipping her soup. "But you have to admire the commitment"
We fell into a quieter rhythm after Tanaka's abrupt departure, the bustling cafeteria fading into background noise. Natsuki leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she studied me. "You know, you've been kind of… off lately. More than usual. Is something going on?"
Her question caught me off guard, her tone gentle but direct. I hesitated, my mind scrambling for the right words. "It really is nothing," I said, forcing a weak chuckle. "Just… a lot has been on my mind."
"Hmm," she murmured, tilting her head slightly, her tone laced with curiosity. "You know, you can talk to me. I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."
I tried to laugh it off, but something in her voice sent a subtle shiver down my spine. She smiled softly, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence pressed down, heavier than it should have. My fingers tightened around my coffee cup as her gaze seemed to see more than I was ready to share.
"You're so bad at hiding things," she said with a laugh, her eyes locked on mine. "And one day, I'm going to figure you out."
That did it.
My chest tightened, and I nearly knocked over my coffee. "Good luck with that," I muttered, desperately trying to sound unaffected. Judging by the heat climbing up my neck, I wasn't very convincing.
Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched the slow, inevitable pink creep up my face, but she didn't push it any further. Instead, she glanced at her phone, casually checking the time. "We should probably head to our next class," she said with a playful wink.
"Yeah, good idea," I said, standing a little too quickly.
We walked together, the awkward tension lingering just enough to make me hyper-aware of every step, every word. As we reached the courtyard, she gave me a sidelong glance, her grin softening into something gentler.
"Don't overthink it, okay?"
I nodded, though my thoughts were already spinning. Whatever "it" was, I wasn't sure I could stop overthinking it even if I tried.
As we went our separate ways, the memory of her words played on a loop in my head. The way her eyes sparkled, the playful tone of her voice, the wink—it all stuck with me far longer than it should have. I felt the heat rising to my face again and groaned under my breath.
Get it together.
Lost in thought, I barely registered where my feet were taking me until the lively buzz of the courtyard faded into an uneasy quiet. I glanced up to find myself in a secluded part of campus, where the paths narrowed between two older buildings. The air was cooler here, heavy with shadows, and the only sounds were the faint rustle of leaves and my own footsteps.
That's when I saw them—two figures standing near the wall, deliberately tucked away in the shadows.
I froze, instinctively stepping back around the corner. My pulse quickened as I watched the scene unfold. One of the figures, a guy in a hoodie, shifted nervously. His head darted side to side, scanning the area to make sure no one was watching.
And then I recognized him.
Tanaka?
I squinted, catching my breath as I watched my best friend rummage through his bag and pull out something large and heavy. He handed it over to the other person, who immediately passed him a thick wad of cash. The exchange was quick and precise, almost practiced, and before I could process what I was seeing, the two of them split off in opposite directions.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
It was minutes before I stepped out from behind the corner. The corridor was empty now, but the faint smell of asphalt and damp brick hung in the air. I stared at the spot where Tanaka had stood, the image of cash burned into my mind. I'd joked earlier about him, but this—this was something else. Something real.
The sharp vibration of my phone in my pocket jolted me from my thoughts. I pulled it out, my hands unsteady, and glanced at the screen.
It was him. Satoshi.
"Meet later? Usual spot."
The message was brief, dismissive in tone, but the timing was far from coincidental. It never was with him.
I exhaled, slipping the phone back into my pocket. Whatever Tanaka had gotten himself into, it could wait. For now, I needed answers—answers that are far more important than what I'd just witnessed.