The bell rang, signaling the end of the final class of the day. The classroom was filled with the faint smell of chalk dust and the sounds of the cooling electronics, as well as students packing their bags and putting away their textbooks.
The teacher, Mr. Tanaka, stood at the front of the room with his glasses perched on his nose he adjusted a few papers on his desk. He then cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention.
"Alright, class, before you all head out, I have a quick announcement," Mr. Tanaka said, his voice firm.
"Tomorrow's field trip is to Odaiba in Tokyo. We'll be visiting teamLab Borderless, the digital art museum, followed by some time at Palette Town. Make sure you bring your student IDs, some money for food, and wear comfortable shoes."
The classroom was suddenly filled with murmurs of excitement. Some students whispered eagerly to their friends, while others gathered their things more slowly, pretending not to care but casting knowing grins at each other.
Rikuya sat at the back of the room, his hands lazily resting on the desk as he tapped a pencil against the wooden table repeatedly.
He was the type who always seemed a little detached from the world around him, his gaze was slightly unfocused, his uniform shirt untucked just a bit more than it should be.
His black hair was slightly messy, the result of running his hand through it absentmindedly, and his black eyes were calm, though often distant.
The girls in the front row were already talking, the excitement of the trip lighting up their faces.
"Ah, I can't wait to see the art! I heard the interactive installations are amazing!" Miki, a tall girl with shoulder-length black hair, said to her friend, who was busy packing her bag.
"I know, right? I'm gonna take so many pictures," Sayaka added, her long hair pulled back into a neat ponytail.
Her eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "It's going to be so much fun! We can hang out after at Palette Town, too."
"You're always talking about food," Miki teased, nudging her playfully.
Meanwhile, a few of the guys were talking near the door. Satoshi, a tall boy with short-cropped black hair, leaned back in his chair, grinning at his friends. "I bet the best part will be the food. I'm starving already just thinking about it. Maybe we can hit that ramen place after?"
"Good idea. But we should try that new arcade," Yuuto, with messy hair and a laid-back attitude, responded, stretching his arms behind his head. "I've been hearing a lot about it."
Their conversation was interrupted as a voice called from behind them. "Rikuya!"
Rikuya turned, slightly startled, to see his childhood friend, Aika, standing next to him.
Aika had her long black hair tied up in a high ponytail, a few strands escaping at the sides of her face.
Her school uniform was impeccable, her skirt neatly pressed, but there was something undeniably warm about her presence, the way her eyes lit up when she spoke.
She was practically bouncing with excitement, her hands clutching her bag tightly.
"Are you excited for tomorrow?" she asked eagerly.
Rikuya gave her a blank look. "Not really. It's just a field trip. It's probably going to be crowded and exhausting, and you know I don't really like social stuff like this Aika."
Aika's eyes narrowed, and she pouted, her lips forming a small frown. "I've told you a million times not to be so negative about everything! Can't you just have fun for once?"
Rikuya sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I guess it'll be… fine."
Aika brightened immediately, her frown vanishing as she giggled. "See? It's gonna be so much fun! There's going to be all these amazing exhibits, and you can't wait to see the interactive lights. I heard you can even walk through a whole forest made out of lights! Doesn't that sound awesome?"
Rikuya nodded absentmindedly, his eyes glazing over as Aika rambled on, explaining with her hands as she talked about every little detail she was looking forward to.
Her enthusiasm was infectious, but Rikuya wasn't really paying attention. His thoughts were elsewhere, already thinking about the quiet time he could have at home.
Aika suddenly stopped mid-sentence and stared at him, her brow furrowing. "Hey! Are you even listening to me?"
Rikuya blinked and met her gaze, a little surprised. "Uh... yeah, I heard you," he mumbled, but she could tell from his distracted expression that he didn't really mean it.
"Rikuya!" she huffed, puffing out her cheeks in frustration. "I can't believe you're zoning out like that! I'm trying to tell you something exciting, and you're just… ugh, whatever."
She stormed off toward the door, her ponytail bouncing with each step. Rikuya sighed again. "Seems you've forgotten once again... Aika," he said, more to himself.
...
As evening began to creep into the classroom, the students shuffled out, heading toward the school gates.
The crisp autumn air was all around them, the last traces of sunlight casting long shadows over the school grounds.
The students scattered in different directions, some laughing with friends, others alone, all of them ready to go home after a long day.
Rikuya walked in the opposite direction, his footsteps slow as he adjusted the straps of his bag.
He could hear Aika's voice faintly in the distance, still talking with some of the other girls about the trip, her words fading away as he made his way toward the exit.
Rikuya walked quietly down the corridor, his steps echoing in the near-empty hallways of the school.
The evening light filtered through the windows, casting long shadows. He could hear faint voices from classrooms where club activities were winding down, but the music club was still and silent.
Reaching the door, he pushed it open, the creak of the hinges breaking the stillness. The room smelled faintly of polished wood and sheet music, a comforting scent that always helped clear his thoughts. The black violin case, different from the school-owned instruments, rested on a nearby shelf where he had left it earlier in the day.
Carefully picking it up, he slung the strap over his shoulder. Just as he turned to leave, a soft voice called out from behind him.
"Rikuya?"
He turned to see Aika standing in the doorway, her hands clasped together in front of her. Her expression was softer now.
"Why are you taking your violin with you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
Rikuya sighed, brushing his hand through his messy hair. He looked away as he answered. "It's my mom's birthday today. I've been practicing a piece for her, and I want to play it."
Aika's face fell slightly at his words. She glanced down, her usual energy dampened. "No wonder you seemed extra spaced out today," she murmured, her voice had a touch of guilt.
Rikuya shifted the strap on his shoulder and started toward the door. As he passed her, as he said, "Well, now you know... not like that ever really changes anything."
Aika turned to watch him go, a look of in her eyes . "Rikuya, wait."
He stopped, his back still to her.
"I'm... sorry," she said, her voice wavering. "I forgot... Again. And I was acting insensitive earlier."
Rikuya sighed again, turning his head slightly but not fully facing her. "It's understandable," he said quietly. "You had something exciting to think about. It's only natural you'd forget something as small as... this."
"That's not what I meant!" Aika said quickly, stepping forward. Her hands clenched at her sides. She then shrugged, nervous, as she asked hesitantly, "Can I... come with you?"
Rikuya shook his head. "No," he replied. "I'd prefer to go alone."
Aika looked down, her shoulders sagging. "Okay," she said reluctantly, her voice barely above a whisper.
As he resumed his walk, she suddenly called out again, her words rushing out before she lost her nerve. "Rikuya, I'm sorry!"
He stopped and turned, his black eyes meeting hers. A faint smile curved his lips, softening his usual distant expression. "It's not a big deal Aika," he said. "I'm not mad."
Lifting a hand in a casual wave, he then said, "I'll catch you later."
Aika hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Yeah... later."
Rikuya turned away and continued down the hallway, his figure soon disappearing into the fading evening light.