"You know, I've never seen that grumpy Nozawa teach so enthusiastically like that."
Katsui said it, mid-bite of his burger.
It was lunchtime, right after Teacher Nozawa's class. Hanamizu's cafeteria was among the top-notch ones; sleek, clean tables and benches, and a menu that changed weekly, sometimes even daily if the principal was feeling generous.
Today's options were cheeseburgers or katsudon, served with miso soup and trifles for dessert. All of it was free for the students, yet some still brought their own bento for lunch; me, for instance.
"I mean, he is still a teacher at the end of the day. Seeing a bit of passion from him once in a while isn't such a bad thing."
I set my bento down on the metal table, wrestling with the tightly sealed lid before finally prying it open. Inside was a carefully arranged spread: golden slices of tamagoyaki lined up neatly in one corner, two temaki rolls wrapped snugly in crisp nori, a small portion of cherry tomatoes lightly dressed, and a bite-sized cupcake tucked into a paper liner for dessert.
Katsui let out a loud whistle, his eyes already locked onto my temaki rolls.
"Your mom outdid herself again. I'm so jealous!"
"You are not taking the temaki rolls!"
"Oh, come on! I haven't even said anything!"
"That look in your eyes says it all, you gluttonous athlete!"
"Fine! I'll just suffer in silence watching you eat them, you food capitalist!"
Katsui dropped back onto the bench with an exaggerated huff, chowing down on his half-eaten burger while mumbling something incoherent under his breath.
I reached for one of the temaki rolls. Inside, batons of cucumber and salmon were layered together, a light drizzle of mayo binding them, with a scattering of salmon roe crowning the top. My stomach growled in anticipation. I opened my mouth wide and took a generous bite, tasting all the fillings at once.
The nori snapped and crackled between my teeth, followed by the fresh crunch of cucumber batons and the buttery richness of the salmon. A savory, slightly tangy note from the mayo came next, tying the flavors together. As I chewed, the salmon roe popped one by one, flooding my mouth with waves of umami that wrapped around the other ingredients, turning them into a proper symphony of flavors as they went down.
"…It's that good, huh?" Katsui said, begrudgingly finishing the last of his burger.
"Oh, it's more than good. It's divine," I teased, polishing off the roll.
"Tch… can I at least have one of the tamagoyaki?"
"Oh, I don't know. That depends...do you have anything you can trade for it?"
"…Tch! Fine. I'll buy you one-no, two-cans of your favorite coffee."
"Deal."
Without hesitation, Katsui lunged across the table and unceremoniously grabbed a slice of tamagoyaki with his greasy fingers, popping it straight into his mouth. I swore I could see his pupils melt with glee as he chewed, like a man who'd been starved for decades. I laughed and picked one up myself; using chopsticks, of course.
The gentle sweetness of dashi bloomed first as I bit into the soft, fluffy egg, followed by the tiny pop of ebiko folded within, releasing a subtle briny note that lingered pleasantly on my tongue. Mom's cooking was always the best.
Being in a trance almost made me forget the existence of the cherry tomato salad. I picked up one of the tomatoes; it glistened under the light, the dressing catching on its skin, speckled with pepper and what I guessed was yuzu zest. I placed it in my mouth, and in an instant my palate was coated in the fresh, vibrant tang of yuzu. When I bit down, the cherry tomato burst, its sweetness cutting cleanly through the citrus.
"How long are you two going to savor your food like connoisseurs?"
A familiar, smooth-almost giddy-voice pulled both Katsui and me back to reality. Shimatsu-san stood there, his piercings catching the light, shining even brighter than the dressing on the tomatoes. He dropped onto the bench beside me, reached for one of the cherry tomatoes, and tossed it into his mouth. He sucked on his thumb and index finger before finally speaking.
"Lunch's almost over and you two keep going Ratatouille over here." Shimatsu exclaimed, reaching for the paper towels from the stationed holder on the table.
"Well sorry for enjoying our food, mister idol." Katsui laughed, already cleaning his hands with the paper towels.
"You had lunch?" I asked, finishing whatever is left of my bento box, leaving the cupcake for last.
"Yep, the katsudon was great, I'd say. I had two bowls and like three trifle glasses."
"Ugh… trifle. Way too sweet for my liking."Katsui shuddered at the mere thought of a single spoonful entering his body.
"And yet, you drink soda every chance you get."
A new voice cut in—deeper even than Katsui's.
The tall guy dropped onto the bench beside him, the sudden weight making it creak. In his hands was a food tray piled almost absurdly high: one massive bowl of katsudon, two cheeseburgers stacked to the side, and several glasses of trifle lined up like trophies.
Akai Kōjō, ace of Hanamizu's baseball club.
He had short black hair, a long fringe usually brushed back and tied with the rest. His build was muscular—honed, athletic—but not bulky like Katsui's. It was the kind of physique that looked efficient. Made for repetition.
"Hey. Soda isn't that sweet. Trifle's just sickening."
"Yeah, yeah. No need to make excuses," Kōjō-san said flatly. "I don't care about your preferences, Katsui."
He started shoveling katsudon into his mouth, occasionally taking bites of the cheeseburgers in between. No pauses. No hesitation.
"How's the baseball club doing, Kōjō-san?" I asked, biting into my cupcake, savoring the sweetness of the icing against the bitterness of the chocolate.
"Doing alright. I think we're ready for next week's game."
"Oh? The prefecture tournament's already begun?" Shimatsu-san asked, poking my shoulder, clearly fishing for a bite.
"Yep. You guys should come watch. You three are pretty free this month, right?"
"Hmmm… I don't know," Shimatsu-san teased, eating the half of the cupcake I handed him. "Do we get anything if we come?"
"Always asking for something," Kōjō-san said. "Fine. I'll go to one of your performances—even though I hate your music from the bottom of my heart."
"…Was that last part necessary?"
Katsui burst out laughing, his ear-splitting voice filling the calm cafeteria. I just smiled and shook my head, while Shimatsu-san stared at Kōjō-san, completely dumbfounded by the latter's bluntness.
Then the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
--------------------
I walked back to the classroom on my own. Katsui and Kōjō-san had club activities, and Shimatsu-san headed to the auditorium for some kind of practice. Students' laughter drifted through the halls, hushed whispers carrying half-kept secrets, normal school sounds, nothing out of the ordinary.
I didn't know why I stopped, but I did. Just for a moment, just to look out the window.
The sun was shining, bathing the leaves of the trees in a warm, golden hue. From where I stood, the school's greenhouse stood out most in the backyard—a structure that felt both looming and peaceful. Decorative vines draped over its walls and roof, softening its outline, as if it had always been there, quietly watching the campus go by.
A small figure was crouching near the rose bushes, smiling all cutesy and at ease, staring at the dark red petals, swaying gently as the summer breeze blew pass.
"Shihori-san...?"
The way her hand carefully brushed the roses, the way her eyes darted about, searching for the butterfly that had just crossed her view. In an instant, she was surrounded by friends; Shihori-san laughed, her giggles carried softly by the summer air. I didn't know how long I stood there watching-but I didn't care.
"Oh~? I knew you had a thing for her."
A voice laced with instant irritation snapped me back to reality.
"Kanata… what are you doing here?"
I glanced over and was immediately met with his smirking face—an expression so punchable it almost impressed me.
"Nothing~," he said lightly. "I'd just finished lunch and was ever so gleefully walking back to class when I noticed you standing here, completely hypnotized by Shihori-senpai's beauty~."
"I was just looking at the greenhouse. Shihori-san just happened to be there."
"Riiight~." He nudged my side with his elbow. "Did you know she's been confessed to multiple times?"
"Is that so?" I replied, keeping my voice deliberately monotone.
"Yep! From third-years to first-years; guys keep trying and failing miserably!" He laughed, far too pleased with himself. "Oh, their faces when they get rejected? Brings so much joy to my otherwise mundane life."
"You're a bastard through and through, huh?"
"Oh, look! Here comes another one!"
Kanata exclaimed excitedly, pointing at the window and tapping against the glass like he was watching a show.
I followed the direction of his finger and noticed a tall guy walking toward Shihori-san's group. He had broad shoulders, brown hair tied back into a ponytail, and wore the school jacket paired with jeans. A third-year, I guessed, judging by the confidence in his stride.
But before anything could happen, I turned and walked away.
"Huh? Yuki-senpai, not watching?"
"I don't like being nosy."
A moment later, I heard footsteps. Kanata had already fallen into step beside me.
As I continued back to class, Kanata walking alongside me as usual, I was brought to a halt by the sound of a saxophone gently creeping out of an open clubroom door. A long, drawn-out note lingered in the air, followed by several shorter ones that danced after it. I stopped at the open door and peered inside.
A girl stood on a makeshift stage, playing the saxophone, swaying with each note. Her left foot tapped against the wooden floor, keeping time with the rhythm. She was having the time of her life.
Then the drums slipped in, smooth as silk. Behind the drum set sat a guy with bangs covering his eyes, I was honestly surprised he could even see where his sticks were going. The bass drum landed softly beneath the melody, steady but unintrusive, and the hi-hat followed, light and effortless, weaving itself into the sound as if it had always been there.
Before I realized it, the full voice of the drums joined in, no longer just supporting the saxophone, but moving alongside it.
"Music club is going casual today, sounds nice," Kanata whistled, leaning against the doorframe.
I didn't reply, only listened as everything else fell quiet. A brunette stepped into the center of the stage, bass in hand. A low string resonated through the room, then another, her notes slipping in and gently pushing the saxophone and drums aside as she took over with a passionate solo.
Her fingers glided effortlessly along the fretboard, each movement smooth and deliberate, plucking the strings with a confidence that drew all attention to her alone. The solo carried on for a moment longer before cutting off cleanly.
Her eyes darted toward the ponytail girl. They exchanged a knowing glance; the saxophone burst back in, quick and deliberate notes slicing through the silence. Almost immediately, the bassist answered, her strings snapping back with equal intensity, the two of them trading phrases as if locked in a playful duel.
"Something's off…"
"Huh? Hey-wait…"
Before Kanata could grab me, I was already walking into the clubroom, heading straight toward the stage.
The two girls stopped playing and turned toward me. The drummer raked his bangs back, tying them with the rest of his hair so he could get a better look as I stopped in front of them.
"Um… who are you?" the ponytail girl asked, eyeing me skeptically.
"Oh! You're Haruto Yuki. The Gaming Club president," the drummer said.
"What's the Gaming Club president doing here?" the brunette added with a glare. "Don't you have tournaments to prepare for or something?"
"I just happened to pass by while you three were practicing, I assume?"
"Not really," the drummer said. He stepped away from the drum set and hopped off the stage. "More like warming up before the actual practice."
He extended a hand. "I'm Kizuki Sana, the Music Club vice president."
"You already know who I am. It's a pleasure meeting you, Sana-san," I replied, shaking his hand.
"The pleasure's mine." He turned toward the other two. "This here is Tsuko Mio, our resident sax player. And the bassist with the attitude is Kiko Sayu."
Sayu-san shot him a look.
"They're both promising first-years," Sana-san added. "Even if they still have some flaws in their playstyle."
"Yeah," I said. "I could tell."
Sana-san's brows lifted slightly. "Oh? Then enlighten me, Yuki-san. I'm open to outside opinions."
"Alright then. Mio-san, I noticed you were running out of breath toward the end of your longer phrases."
Mio-san flinched. "Wha—! No, I wasn't."
"You were," I replied calmly. "Your tone thins out right before your faster transitions. You compensate by cutting the note short. It's noticeable."
I shifted my gaze to the bassist.
"And Sayu-san… your hand speed on the fretboard is impressive. But when you move up the neck, you rush the first note after the shift. It lands slightly ahead of the rhythm."
Sayu-san scoffed. "Lucky guess…"
Sana let out a low whistle. "Impressive observation, Yuki-san. Those are exactly the issues they're working on."
He stepped closer, studying me with open curiosity.
"What about me?" His eyes gleamed. "Did I mess up anywhere?"
"Sana-san…" I took a small step back, putting a little distance between us. "No. I didn't notice anything off. You supported them well. Clean timing. Controlled dynamics."
Sana-san's eyes instantly lost their sparkle, his arms dropping to his sides in exaggerated disappointment.
"Aw, man… You're just like everyone else. I even tried to mess up, you know."
The clubroom fell silent.
That wasn't the reaction I expected.
I glanced at Mio-san and Sayu-san. Both of them looked equally exasperated, and not in the least bit surprised.
"Yeah yeah, Mr. Perfect. You sure did. How annoying."
"You have got to stop acting like this, senpai! It's like your looking down on us!"
Both of them huffed in agitation before turning away, meddling with their instruments. Sana-san just chuckled and brushed them off before turning back to me.
"Well we should return to practicing, thanks for dropping by, Yuki-san. See you later."
I nodded and walk away, waving goodbye at them when I reached doors before closing them. Faint echo of saxophone and bass rose once more, more cohesive and composed.