Chapter 3: Morning Chaos and Crooked Jogging
Haruki Arai was not a morning person.
He was especially not a 6 a.m.-jog-in-the-freezing-dawn person.
Yet here he was, standing outside his apartment in an old hoodie, mismatched socks, and sneakers that hadn't seen the light of day since high school gym class. His breath fogged in the crisp air, and his legs already regretted agreeing to this foolish arrangement.
"Yo-ho~!" came Rinako's overly enthusiastic voice, skipping up like she was starring in a musical.
Haruki blinked. "You're… really energetic for someone awake this early."
"I thrive on chaos and carbs," she said proudly, holding up a bottle of sports drink and a jelly bun in the same hand. "You ready?"
"No."
"Perfect! That's the spirit!"
And then she took off.
Haruki groaned, shuffled after her, and immediately questioned every life decision that led to this point.
The jogging wasn't pretty. He wheezed like an old bicycle with a rusty chain. Rinako, on the other hand, jogged with the unbothered energy of a girl who had long since decided not to care what people thought.
They made it one block before Haruki collapsed on a park bench.
"I'm… dying," he gasped, hands on his knees.
"Nope. Not allowed. You still have to survive midterms," Rinako said, plopping beside him and tossing him a banana. "Here. Eat this. Potassium heals the soul."
He stared at the fruit like it personally offended him.
"I don't like bananas."
She blinked. "Well… tough. Eat it anyway. Builds stamina and character."
Haruki took a bite, muttering something about human rights and fruit tyranny.
They sat there in silence for a bit, watching the early morning joggers zoom past them—fit, fast, fabulous. Haruki felt like a dying fish flopped onto a marathon track.
"So," Rinako said, stretching, "how're you feeling? Physically broken, mentally scarred?"
"Mostly just embarrassed. People were staring."
"They always stare. Let them. At least they're seeing you now."
That made him pause.
"…I used to like the invisibility," he said quietly.
"Yeah, I know. But the world's more fun when it notices you," she said, nudging him playfully. "You've got a good face, you know. Behind the trauma and terrible haircut."
Haruki choked on his banana. "You could've just stopped at trauma."
She laughed—genuinely, carefreely—and he found himself… smiling?
Not much. Just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. But still. Progress.
As they walked back to his apartment, slower this time, Rinako was already planning tomorrow's "Operation: Haruki 2.0."
"Step 1: No more sad hoodies. Step 2: Hair. Step 3: Posture training. Step 4: Smiling without looking like a hostage."
"You're making me sound like a charity project."
"You're not a charity," she said, suddenly serious. "You're… a friend."
That word echoed in his chest like an unfamiliar melody.
Friend.
He hadn't had one of those in a while.
As they parted ways at the corner, Rinako turned around, walking backward with a grin. "Don't ditch tomorrow, or I'll haunt your dreams. I'm a pro at spooky ghost noises."
Haruki watched her go, the chill of the morning strangely… less cold now.
When he entered his apartment, something felt different. Not the mess—it was still there. But the silence didn't feel as lonely.
He looked at the mirror. Still the same tired face. But beneath the disheveled hair and awkward glasses… was the tiniest spark of something.
Hope?
He shook his head and sat on the floor, the banana still half-eaten in his hand.
Tomorrow was another day.
And apparently, another jog.
God help him.
---