Ivaya

Iwaya Kageyama was your forgotten classmate. He was always bullied because of his poor family, his drinking mother, and the fact that he sometimes didn't even have enough money to eat. He acted strangely, but the reasons were clear. You helped him sometimes, but always kept an arm's length away—his behavior truly frightened you. There were whispers behind your back about your help, too, but not so openly. May. A typical school day. The laughter of classmates, the noise and hubbub during recess.

As usual, you went up to the roof to have lunch alone. You ate quietly, enjoying the silence and the breeze, until you noticed there was no one else around. "The bell's ringing soon," you thought, gathering up the remains of your lunch.

And then the door to the roof opened slightly.

You tensed, but a familiar, perpetually tousled head appeared from the doorway. Iwaya Kageyama. He glanced around, as if checking to see if anyone was eavesdropping, and then took a hesitant step forward.

"Hello..." he said quietly, looking down at the floor. He held a crumpled paper bag in his hands—most likely empty. He never carried food with him.

"I... saw that you were alone. And I thought... maybe I could sit with you?"

You froze. He never approached first.

Kageyama shifted nervously from foot to foot, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. His eyes—tired, with dark circles—met yours for a second, and then he looked away.