To be honest, I wasn't someone who fell in love easily. Watching relationships around me bloom and wither in the blink of an eye had etched a quiet fear of love deep into my mind and soul. I wasn't emo, I wasn't trying to be quirky or different because it was edgy or cool; I was just genuinely afraid of love. Period.
It was late summer in Kanagawa. The scorching heat of midsummer had finally eased, replaced by a gentler warmth that crept in slowly, breathing life back into the people and the world around us.
I woke to the sound of my phone alarm exploding on the nightstand, its violent vibration could've been mistaken for a small earthquake. A little dramatic, maybe, but that's exactly how it felt. I reached over, hand half-asleep, and tapped 'Dismiss' before it rattled the soul right out of me.
With heavy limbs and half-lidded eyes, I sat up in bed and squinted at the soft morning light spilling through my window. A new semester had begun. I wasn't particularly thrilled, but really, what choice did I have?
Dragging myself out of bed, I stumbled into the bathroom.
The mirror didn't greet me kindly. Strands of hair stuck out at odd angles, and my bangs draped over half my face like a tired curtain. I looked like a sentient broccoli. I sighed deeply and began to wash up. Cold water splashed against my face, shocking me awake with a sting that ran down my spine.
I opened the mirror cabinet and grabbed my comb, wetting it under the freezing tap before tackling the mess on my head. My hair was ridiculous, strands sticking out like they'd declared rebellion in my sleep. I slicked my bangs back and worked to smooth out every stubborn tuft until, finally, I could see my face... and the dark circles under my eyes.
No surprise there. With my obsession over late-night gaming, they were practically permanent residents. Not that I cared; there was no way I was risking my rank just for sleep.
I grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste and started brushing, fast but thorough. Just because I was in a hurry didn't mean I'd neglect dental hygiene.
"Haruto! Are you awake yet?"
My mom's voice floated up from downstairs, gentle but concerned. She was never the kind of mother to scold you for waking up late or staying up too long. If anything, she doted more when I looked tired.
"Yes, Mom!" I called back, my words slightly garbled by the foam filling my mouth.
I reached for my cup, filled it with water, and rinsed. The icy, minty rush jolted me fully awake, shooting through my nerves like a cold electric current. Spitting the water out, I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror — all cleaned up and ready to go.
I stepped out of the restroom and headed toward my closet. It might sound odd, but for someone who's a gamer at heart, I kept it pretty organized. Clothes for the next day were always hung up in order, ready to go. A small drawer held my socks and underwear, while a larger one at the bottom was packed with towels and whatever else didn't have a home.
I pulled my school uniform off its hanger and started getting dressed.
Since it was still summer, my school didn't require students to wear long sleeves and a vest, just the school shirt with a tie, khakis, and a belt. It didn't take long before I was fully dressed and heading downstairs. The smell of eggs and bacon wafted through the air, filling my nose and making my stomach growl before I even realized it.
"Did you make a lot, Mom?" I asked as I strolled into the kitchen and took my seat at the table.
"Yes, dear. You know I always do."
"Morning, son."
My dad greeted me from the other side of the table, his voice muffled behind the newspaper he was reading. He was a large man, bulky and muscular, with short gray hair. His eyes were sharp — one look, and you'd be shaking, but he meant no harm. Dressed in a suit and tie, neat and clean, he could've easily been mistaken for an office worker. But no, he was a vet. A damn good one at that. His personality was a mystery; he never said much but always quietly took care of things — his actions speaking louder than words ever could, showing he cared without actually showing it. The complete opposite of Mom.
Mom was a small woman, fit but never flaunting it — you'd never guess from the bright, colorful dresses she always wore. She had shoulder-length brown hair, round eyes that always gleamed with joy, and a smile that seemed permanently fixed on her face. Always expressing her love and care loudly and proudly.
She bounced over to the table, placing two plates down — one for Dad, one for me. Each plate held three sunny-side-up eggs and a mountain of candied bacon. Alongside, a stack of pancakes rose high, topped with knobs of butter slowly melting down the sides. I figured she was in the mood for an American-style breakfast this morning.
"That is... a big breakfast, honey..." Dad peeked over his newspaper and eyed the plates, his voice laced with worry and caution.
"Yes, I know. Since you always eat so little, this is your punishment," Mom said, smiling sweetly, though her tone carried a clear warning. "Finish everything on those plates, and I'll let you go to work. If not, don't even think about setting one foot out."
Dad knew better than to argue. He simply nodded, folded the newspaper, and set it aside before silently digging in.
I chuckled at the interaction until Mom's smile shifted toward me. That same menacing grin. A silent message that said, You're next.
I quickly shut up and started eating.
One bite of the candied bacon, and I felt like I'd ascended into heaven. The sweet taste of brown sugar, mixed with the subtle fat and saltiness of the bacon, filled my mouth with bliss. I cut into the sunny-side-up eggs and took a bite while the flavor of the bacon still lingered. The peppered yolk added a new layer to the mix, its richness somehow overpowering the bacon's taste as I swallowed. It was intense, but in the best way.
I grabbed a tissue and wiped my mouth before moving on to the stack of pancakes. Mom always had a knack for culinary invention, sometimes they were hits, other times, well... borderline nuclear warheads. Mealtime at our house was a gamble.
I poured syrup over the stack, watching the thick, glistening liquid curtain down the sides. Just the sight of it was enough to make anyone's mouth water. I stabbed my fork into the center and sliced down. As I pulled the piece out, an orange, jam-like liquid oozed from the middle.
"Uh... Mom? New idea again?"
"Oh yes! I felt like making orange jam-filled pancakes today for your dad. You know how much he loves citrusy things."
She beamed at Dad, who was grinning from ear to ear. I guessed he'd already gotten a taste of the surprise filling and was enjoying it.
I shrugged and took a bite. The sweetness of the pancake immediately washed away the lingering savoriness of the bacon and eggs. As I chewed, the orange jam burst out, coating my tongue with its tangy flavor and refreshing aroma. Not bad. Not bad at all.
"I'd say it's a success — don't you think so, dear?"
Mom leaned over and poked Dad's shoulder. He simply nodded, stuffing his mouth with more pancakes like a man on a mission.
A few minutes later, Dad and I had finished our breakfast, while Mom was already busy cleaning up. With a full belly, I stood up and stretched, loosening my belt by a notch just so I could breathe properly.
"Thanks for the meal, Mom. I'm heading out."
"Don't forget your lunch, sweetie."
She handed me a bento box with her usual smile and sent me on my way. I slipped into my shoes, waved goodbye to both of them, and stepped out the door.
A warm coastal breeze greeted me the moment I stepped outside. The sun was already shining, and before me stretched a familiar sight — rows upon rows of students walking to school or heading to the train station. A scene I'd grown far too used to, yet somehow, it still felt like the start of something new.
"Hey there, King. Woke up on time? I'm impressed!"
"Ugh, I told you not to call me that, Katsui."
"Hehehe, what's wrong? Afraid your fans might recognize you or something?"
"Shut up!"
Katsui - tall, buzzcut, with big, mischievous eyes - was leaning casually against the gate in front of my house, grinning like he always did.
I sighed and stepped out, walking toward the train station with him.
We'd been best friends since middle school. In our duo, he was always the standout - best at sports, best at studying... I hate to admit it, but even the best at gaming. Meanwhile, I aimed to be average at everything. My parents never pressured me to be top of the class, so I didn't bother trying to be.
Katsui was outgoing, helpful to everyone - the type of guy who'd go out of his way to lend a hand. Never selfish, not even once. Me? I kept to myself. My circle of friends was small and familiar, and I only offered help when someone asked, never voluntarily, like Katsui.
"What've you been up to all summer, man?"
"Do you really have to ask, even though you already know the answer?"
"Haha, I know, I know. Just hoping you did something different - y'know, surprise me."
We bantered like that for a while, and before we knew it, we were at the train station. It wasn't as crowded as I expected. Students from different schools milled around, each in their own distinct uniforms. Some looked excited, grinning as they reunited with friends after the long summer break. Others already had their noses buried in books, studying like the semester had started yesterday.
"Think we'll get any new students in our class today?" Katsui asked, wandering over to the vending machine. I followed behind.
"I dunno. Don't really care, to be honest," I said with a shrug as we reached the machine.
The vending machine looked old and battered, rust creeping into its frame, yet it still hummed with purpose, fully stocked with a surprising variety — soda, fake Ramune cans, coffee, tea... all kinds of choices.
"So, what do you want?" Katsui asked, his eyes scanning the machine's rows of cans.
"Since when are you so generous?" I feigned surprise, hands clutching my chest in mock disbelief.
"Stop acting and pick already!" Katsui laughed.
"I'll take two of the milk coffee then, since you're paying, hehe."
"Greedy punk, haha, fine."
Katsui dropped two ¥500 coins into the slot, his finger pressing the button for milk coffee twice, then tapping it again for the matcha latte cans. The machine whirred to life, and several heavy clunks followed, each one punctuating the drops of the cans into the tray below. A low click echoed as they landed, metal against plastic, neat and precise. Katsui bent down, retrieving the cans with a swift motion, then tossed the milk coffees to me.
As the cold metal of the cans hit my hands, a wave of chill ran up my fingers — an instant relief in the stifling heat of the morning.
I cracked open one of the cans and took a sip. My gaze drifted toward the coastal scenery beyond the station. The train would occasionally pass, but I could still catch glimpses of the view through its windows. The station had thinned out after several trains had stopped.
"Ever get tired of this view, Katsui?" I asked, my eyes still fixed on the shimmering surface of the ocean, the sunlight dancing across it.
"How could I?" Katsui sighed, sipping his tea. "Whenever I see it, I feel at peace after a long day."
[The next train to Sagamihara is arriving shortly.]
"I guess that's our cue."
"Yep."
We chugged the last of our drinks and tossed the empty cans into the trash near the vending machine. The familiar screech of the train's brakes echoed, followed by a hiss of air as the doors slid open to let passengers off. We waited for them to clear out before stepping inside, joining the other students in the same uniform as us. Another hiss of air, and the doors slid shut, the train lurching to life as we began our journey to school, starting a new semester.