‧₊˚ jngwn⋆.˚

it was the first friday of april, a chilled breeze drifting in through the classroom window. unzipping your pencil case, a small, folded note fell out, landing on the wooden surface of your desk.

in delicate pencil writing, it read:

‘i want to be your friend.’

that is all it said. one simple sentence. the handwriting was small, small enough that you needed to lean closer to read it. it wasn’t a handwriting you recognised.

you glanced around the room, eyeing each of the students. checking to see if any were watching you, waiting for a reaction. but no one was looking at you. they were all busy talking, in their worlds separate from yours. you wiped your sweaty hands on your skirt, putting the piece of paper back into your pencil case, burying it under pencils and pens. it was probably a prank orchestrated by someone. it had to be.

but the notes kept coming, one hidden somewhere every day. they started appearing between book pages. taped to the underside of your desk. in the pocket of the jacket you left on the back of the chair. you couldn’t help but feel slightly cautious. who was doing this?

the notes seemed relatively harmless to your surprise, curious questions scribbled in pen, sometimes in graphite pencil.

‘do you prefer day or night?’

‘what’s your favourite colour?’

‘do you have a favourite movie?’

nothing seemed different once the notes started. that was the weird part. the girls never looked at you funny. they just continued acting as they usually do, loud and obnoxious at the back of the class. you had even checked their literature books and compared the handwriting - it wasn’t a match. it wasn’t them. you had no clue who it could be.

checking for the notes became a daily habit of yours, a step of your school mornings. the notes would always be there. but you never replied. where would you even leave them?

nearing the end of may, you received another small note from your anonymous messenger.

‘let’s talk. face to face. meet me at the swings down the street. june 3rd at 5pm.’

a small wave of anxiety washed over you again. your hands shook. what if it was the girls? what if it was a setup, and they would beat you up like they had done before? you shoved the note into your pocket, reciting the date and time in your head. maybe you should go. just in case it was real. you felt sick for the rest of the day, hands sticky with sweat.

june 3rd finally came around, and as soon as the final bell rang you shot out of the school, sprinting home to avoid bumping into any of the other kids.

when you pushed open the front door with a grunt, your father was laying on the couch, coffee mug empty in his hand. he nodded at you, a faint smile on his cracked lips.

“good day?”

“yeah.” you kicked your shoes off by the door.

“want somethin’ to eat? i think there’s some leftovers in the fridge. i can heat ‘em up.”

you hesitated before shaking your head.

“i’ll eat later. i have to go to the library quickly.”

he nodded before turning back to the television. you took the chance to get changed quickly, grabbing your jacket. you left the house at 4:30 on the dot.

you walked slowly, giving yourself time to come up with a plan if it really was a set up. you’d take the beating, apologise, shrink into a ball at their feet like you always do. but when you reached the swings, the girls weren’t there. it was shigeta harua. he was the other quiet kid in your class, the boys’ designated punching bag. he was like you.

you approached him carefully, sitting on the swing beside him. harua was short and skinny, tiny in every aspect. he was pretty pale too, despite always wearing shorts. his white school shirt was wrinkled, untucked. he seemed to have came here straight from school.

“i didn’t think you’d come.” harua said, his legs swinging slowly. you nod, forgetting he wasn’t looking at you.

“i’m glad you did, though.”

the sound of distant cars filled the beat of silence.

“sorry i never answer your letters.” you muttered, and harua looked up at you for the first time since you got here. he offered a small smile.

“it’s okay. i liked to guess what your answers would be.” 

everything went silent again.

“i want to be your friend.”

your eyes widened slightly. you weren’t surprised, you’d known that was his intention. it was just how straightforward and blunt he was.

“we can be friends, sure.”

“cool.”

the two of you sat together, gently swinging, when harua’s phone buzzed. a brief glance at the screen, and he stood up.

“i’ve gotta go.”

“oh, okay.”

“can i write you another letter?”

you nod, and so does he. that’s that, you thought.

you watched as he walked down the street. you went home ten minutes later.

---

“still poor, hm?” one of the girls teased, her nails digging into your shoulder. the others laughed, pulling your bag from your grip and rifling through your stuff. you wanted to shout, tell them to stop. but your voice never came. it never seems to, these days.

the girls in your class had always picked on you, made fun of you for your family’s money struggles. you’d told them countless times that your dad tried his best for you. but they never listened. you’re still in poverty, aren't you? they’d say. he isn’t trying hard enough.

you’d known them since you were little kids, when you had all joined kindergarten. young and unaware. oblivious to differences. your flaws didn’t exist yet. you were 10 years old when it all started. when they noticed how you skipped meals, how worn out your shoes were. 

“are you listening, idiot?” one yelled, and you were pulled from your thoughts. they were ripping your bag, emptying your belongings onto the floor. your pens and pencils. your books. your p.e. uniform. all of it, on the muddy ground.

“you really have nothing at all, huh?” the girl holding you down muttered into your ear, her voice smug. “pathetic.”

she dragged you to your feet. you were barely stood up properly when she shoved you down hard. you landed on the pile of things, the sharpened pencils stabbing into your skin. you stayed on the floor until they left. when you finally stood up, blood pricked on your knees. the stinging lasted the whole walk home.

that same evening, you decided to write back to harua. you wanted to make up for all the letters he had wrote for you, which you had never replied to.

‘the weather was pretty good today. i decided to wear a short sleeve shirt under my jacket. i had tan lines by the time i got home! i haven’t caught the sun like that since we went on vacation when i was a kid. i think i was 7. where have you been on vacation? where do you want to go in the future?’

‘my dad made me the best meal ever today. he cooked chicken and added my favourite seasoning. there were some side dishes too. i was so full after. it’s been a while since i’ve felt so full. what’s your favourite food? i feel like you enjoy sweet foods. i don’t like them too much, i’m scared my teeth will fall out.’

‘a cat approached me at the park last week. i was sitting on the bench, and it came and laid down next to me. it was purring. it’s fur was soft too. i wish i could have taken it home. i’ve always wanted a pet.’

with every letter written, harua wrote back with just as much enthusiasm. it was interesting how you got to know him through the notes, got to know the real harua, he was much more outgoing on paper. harua was quiet at school, sitting in the front corner. he stayed hunched over his worksheets, never making eye contact with anyone. he stayed quiet all the time. even when the guys were shouting at him, hurting him. he just stayed still, like a statue. they would push him against the wall, steal his stuff when he wasn’t looking. they’d even put gum in his hair. he had to cut it out at lunch. his haircut the next day was wonky, and they bullied him for that too.

you never found out why they bullied harua the way they did. he wasn’t poor like you. he wasn’t ugly, or smelly, or mean. he was just harua. shy, gentle harua, who never did anything. maybe that’s why they did what they did. just because they could.

it was another warm day in june. the students were cleaning the classroom, sweeping the wooden floors and wiping down the desks. in the back by the window, you noticed that harua was being cornered by the boys. you took a few steps closer, “busying” yourself with rearranging the books on a table nearby. you eavesdropped as they teased him.

“careful, dude. he’ll get us sick.” one of them laughed, poking harua’s chest.

“get rid of him.” another ordered, and they grab him by the arm, pulling him past you and to the door. you were curious. what did they mean harua could get them sick? you hadn’t heard about any illness. maybe he had a cold or something. they pushed him out of the classroom roughly. the group disappeared down the hallway, his arms in their grip.

they were gone for exactly 5 minutes and 12 seconds. you counted. but when they returned from wherever they took him, harua wasn’t with them. you didn’t want to know what they did to him.

moments like this reminded you of when the girls had pulled you by your hair outside, in the harsh winter cold last year. it was nearing christmas break. they had used the school hose on you, claiming you needed to be cleaned. filthy dog, they had called you. nothing but filth. when they were done, they locked you out of the building. you were stuck in the cold, your uniform soaking wet. you gave up and went home. you were sick for a week after. 

you met harua again that weekend. he looked a lot paler than usual. you don’t mention it. your meeting point was the swings again, you were first to arrive this time.

“the sun is bright these days.” he said, shoes kicking up the grass underneath him. you hum in response.

“yes, it’s super hot.”

“yeah.”

the breeze was calmer today, blowing your hair softly. it felt nice on your skin, a cool contrast to the warm humidity.

“do you ever go anywhere when you need an escape?” harua asked, looking over at you. you thought for a moment.

“...no. do you?”

“yeah.”

“where do you go?”

“there’s this rooftop near the hospital. it’s completely empty. i like going there to be alone. to feel normal for a moment. you ever wanna do that? feel normal? i want to all the time. i like sitting on the edge. the thought of falling is scary, but sometimes the risk makes me feel more alive.”

“oh. that’s cool.”

“it is.”

harua coughs before continuing.

“the rooftop doesn’t compare to heaven though.”

you blink at him.

“heaven?”

“yes. heaven. my heaven.”

you were confused. harua giggled at how your brows furrowed.

“i found it in the city over from ours. it’s this beautiful field down a country road. it’s on top of the hill with the train station. you can see the whole town from up there.”

“wow.”

“yeah. i haven't told anyone about my heaven before. you’re the first.”

“thanks.”

he smiles at you, and you smile back.

the two of you ended up talking about other mundane things, like your favourite animals, recent dreams you’d had. it was nice getting to know harua.

the conversation was cut short when harua’s phone buzzed. he didn’t even look at the screen this time.

“i gotta go.”

“aw, okay. bye.”

“bye. don’t forget to write back!” he called, already halfway down the street. you gave him a thumbs up.

you were only 11 when your mother died. it was sudden, unexpected. lost control of her steering one winter, the roads icy and slippery. they found her car in a ditch. she was long gone by the time the paramedics arrived. that’s what the police officer told you at the door on the evening of the accident. it’s what the news reporter on the television said too. you were young, but not young enough to misunderstand. she was gone. forever. your beloved mother.

it took a toll on your father. you could see it. he loved her so much. she had loved him so much, too. it seemed like the light in his eyes had died with her.

when both are loyal, it is time that cheats. 

he was quick to pick up drinking after the funeral. he drank a lot. but he never hit you. not once. your father was not that type of man. instead, he got emotional, tired. he was tired a lot these days. you could hear him cry most nights, calling for your mother. or when he wasn’t crying, he was dazed, in some sort of sluggish state that nothing could pull him from. the spark he once had was gone, quietness replacing it. eventually, he lost his decent job. it took him a few weeks to find a new one, a cleaner job in a local store, and now he barely makes enough money for the two of you. but he was alive, and that’s all that mattered to you. he was all you had left. 

---

it had finally reached the end of june. the heat had intensified greatly, each day easily reaching 30 degrees or more. you found yourself sweating constantly. you were glad the teacher allowed for the windows to be left open throughout the day. you and harua were still exchanging notes, now more comfortable than ever. you knew a lot about him. he felt like your one true friend. a genuine, real friend.

you had found another one of his letters in your pencil case on the monday of the last week of school.

‘if you are free, i want to take you somewhere during summer break. heaven. you remember that place i told you about, right? i want to show you it, if you’ll let me. second week of summer. it’s only an hour on the train. it’s not far away, don’t worry.

- harua’

harua was inviting you to his special spot. no one else. just you. maybe he thought you were special? you shook that thought from your head immediately.

you wrote back the next morning.

‘i would love to. it sounded beautiful from what you told me. what time should we meet? and are we meeting at the train station? let me know the details. i can’t wait. thank you.

- y/n’

you received another letter wednesday morning.

‘i’m happy you want to see it. we should meet at the station at 12pm. i’ll try to get there before you. i’ll pay for your ticket, okay? my treat.

- harua’

you were excited. and curious. and also a little nervous. what would this ‘heaven’ be like? would you like it? harua seemed to think it was amazing, so maybe you would too.

lucky for you, the final day of school went by in a flash. the last bell dismissed the students, and you were so happy to finally be free from school for nearly 2 months. as you got up to leave, you were shoved to the side, your shoulder crashing into the wall. you didn’t care. in fact, you smiled. because all you cared about was your trip with harua in 2 weeks. just you and your friend. 

---

the 14 days passed rather quickly and now you were stood at the station, skirt fluttering in the gentle wind. harua said he would be here before you, but he wasn’t. you stood awkwardly by the ticket machine, contemplating just buying your own ticket. harua appeared behind you a few moments later, panting. his cheeks were rosy. it was cute.

“sorry i’m late. let me get the tickets real quick.”

you nod, watching him feed his money into the machine. harua was wearing a white long-sleeve button up, and blue shorts that stopped at his bruised knees. he had even styled his hair. he looked quite different to how he usually looked at school. he looked nice.

“really feels like summer now, huh?” harua said, passing one of the admission tickets to you.

“yeah. it’s hotter these days.”

“mhm. my grandma made me put on loads of sunscreen before i left.” 

the two of you giggled at the sticky residue that shimmered on his forehead.

it was insanely humid on the train, the carriage packed with people. looking out the window, you watched the sea of green fly past you, fields upon fields of crops. the countryside was beautiful. you listened to the loud chug of the engine, the faint chatter of people barely intelligible. harua was sat next to you, his knee brushing yours with the motion of the train. his bruises were a pretty shade of purple. they were new. his hands were fiddling with the sleeve of shirt, pinching and folding the fabric between his thumb and pointer finger. your eyes found his. he looked away almost immediately, flustered. the two of you didn’t speak on the train ride.

“come on, it’s this way.” harua insisted, the two of you walking down a country lane. it was more quiet here. eventually you found a tall hedge, and harua led you through a small gap between the leaves and branches. on the other side was a large field - heaven.

“we’re here. this is my heaven.” he said, hand wrapping around your wrist as he pulled you further into the field.

“it’s beautiful.” you murmured, letting him pull you along. you found a place to sit, right where you could see the city at the bottom of the huge hill. harua was right. it was a beautiful view. you were glad the train station was at the top of the hill. it was amazingly steep.

“how did you find this place?” you asked, leaning back on your hands.

“i came here alone a few months ago. was just wandering around and found the little gap. i really liked it here, so i kept coming. mainly on weekends.”

you nodded, the conversation gradually fading out. both of you picked at the grass, the green blades soft between your fingers.

“y’know, i think you’re right. this place is beautiful.” you said, looking over at him. harua looked back at you. the eye contact had it’s own silent conversation.

“you think so?”

“yeah.”

harua simply watched you for a moment. you stared back. neither of you said anything more. he moved first, leaning closer. you copied his movement. your lips pressed against his. warm. that’s how his lips felt. he pulled back, blinking at you slowly. the feeling was fleeting, gone as quickly as it came. you had kissed. it felt right. and that was that. neither of you said anything about it.

“i brought lunch.” harua eventually announced, pulling his backpack onto his lap. “my grandma made these for us.”

harua held a bag of slightly squashed sandwiches, offering them to you. 

“thank you.”

you ate quietly, watching the clouds pass in the sky above you. sweat dripped down the back of your neck. another incredibly hot day. the sandwiches were really good, though.

on the train ride back home, the carriage was a lot quieter. it was later in the afternoon, nearly 5pm, and the breeze was cooler now. harua was on your left. you hadn’t spoken once since you got on the train. you assumed he was tired. your eyes caught the single tear that slid down his face, all the way to his chin. the silence stuck. eventually, harua cried quietly, his hands pawing at his eyes. teardrops landed on his shorts, leaving a pattern of dark spots. you don’t ask what’s wrong. you don’t say anything at all. 

when you reached the station, you thanked harua for taking you to his heaven, for paying for your ticket.

“it’s okay. thank you for coming with me.” he replied, his eyes slightly puffy. he gave you a small, sheepish smile.

“…will you still write to me?”

“yes. of course i will.”

“great. i’m… i’m glad.” 

with the confirmation, he bade farewell, waving at you as he walked the other way. his house was on the opposite side of the town. you walked home with a smile on your face. your finger swiped over your bottom lip. warm.

now you have the rest of summer to do your favourite things - read, draw, and stare out of your window - without having to worry about school, about the girls.

---

as summer break passed, you sunk into a deep solitude. you were comfortable in your bedroom, unseen and unnoticed. you spent most of your days reading, avoiding social interactions. you only spoke to your father at breakfast and dinner. sometimes your brain drifted to your classmates. whether they’d notice your absence at the start of next semester. you would love to disappear. if only it was that easy.

despite the relaxation, anxiety and worry still churned in your stomach. your money situation wasn’t getting any better. and neither was your dad. he barely did anything other than go to work, sleep, and occasionally buy groceries. you were worried about his mental health. he was never great at opening up, so you had no idea how he was feeling. he only worked 4 short shifts a week, so most of the time he spent at home was by himself. you were at school all day. he was alone. he never used to be, though. your mother used to be the one to keep him company when he felt lonely. but she’s gone, and now he’s lonely all the time. your mother was your best friend as a kid. when she died, you became lonely too. you’d lost your only friend, aged 11. after her death, you yearned for connection - but your dad was off limits, cut off emotionally. harua was your only chance now, and you wanted to be around him all the time. you really enjoyed being with harua. you longed to connect with him.

as summer break neared its end, september less than 2 weeks away, you started to spiral about having to face the students again. you know that the bullying would only continue. you didn’t want to put yourself through that again. hopefully having harua by your side would provide you with comfort. 

your dad had woken you up at 9, tapping your shoulder.

“hey, kiddo. there’s a letter for you. just got delivered.”

you rubbed your eyes, taking it from him. once he had left, you opened the envelope. the letter was from harua. how the boy found your address you had no clue.

‘it’s been a while. i was thinking, why not give you my number so we can talk on the phone? it will be a lot easier i think. call me!

- harua’

at the bottom of the page, his number was scribbled in red sharpie, a small heart at the end. 

you called him an hour later, after brushing your teeth and eating breakfast.

“hello? harua?”

“y/n! yes, it’s harua. i missed you.”

harua had missed you. the thought made you smile.

“i missed you too.”

“really? you did?”

“yeah. i did.”

“i’m glad. um… i wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out in person again. it’s been a while since our trip, huh?”

when you thought about it, it had been a while since you last saw harua. over a month. almost two.

“yeah, it has. i’d love to hang out.”

“great! meet me by the hospital. we can go to the rooftop i told you about.”

“okay. see you soon.”

by 12, the two of you were sat on the rooftop, legs dangling off the edge. the view from the roof was nice. you understood why harua came here so often. 

“it’s nice up here,” you said, turning your head to harua. “relaxing, in a way.”

“yeah, it is.” harua smiled softly, nodding in agreement. “i come up here to escape life. no one is ever here apart from me. well, except you.”

you returned the smile.

“is it bad at your house? is that why you come here?”

“no, my house is okay.” he shook his head. “i live with my parents and my grandma. we live just one street down. it can just get loud sometimes, so i prefer coming here for peace and quiet.”

“ah, okay.”

“they’ve been arguing a lot recently. my parents. they’re worried. there’s a lot of bills they have to pay… expensive ones. we’re practically poor now, and they’re worried about grandma and i.”

“i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay. they’ll… we’ll be fine.”

you noticed how his demeanour changed. he was being vague. you don’t ask any questions, not wanting to pry or push your friend.

“sorry.” he whispered. you tilted your head.

“what for?”

“complaining about my life. i know that you’re struggling just as much. maybe even more. i heard about your, um… mom. i’m really sorry about that. i know you and your dad struggle too. you don’t deserve it.”

his words hit you like a truck, that churning feeling returning to your stomach. your eyes stung. please don’t cry, you thought. not now.

“you don’t deserve any of the bad things that have happened. you’re sweet. really sweet. it makes me sad that no one else can see that. but a part of me is glad that only i can. it’s like something special, just for me to have. sorry. that sounds selfish.”

harua’s voice faded out eventually, his rambling coming to an end. you cried quietly next to him, hot tears dripping down onto your lap. harua passed you his handkerchief without a word. it smelt like him.

the two of you sat in shared silence after that, your thighs pressed against each other.

“do you believe in god?” 

his question pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“uh, i don’t know. maybe. do you?”

“no.” harua’s answer was quick, blunt. it caught you off-guard. “because if he really loved his creations, he wouldn’t make them suffer. he wouldn’t give people sickness. innocent people. and so much suffering. it’s unfair.”

“...that’s true.”

“i’ve prayed before. begged for my own suffering to go away. yet he never answered. i’m a good person. don’t i deserve a good life too?”

you’d never seen harua angry before. not until now. it made you feel sorry for him. he must have so much pain he never let out. so much frustration. you both went quiet. harua calmed down.

“you know, you’re really pretty.” he said, his eyes fixed on the horizon ahead of him.

“no i’m not.” 

harua’s hand found yours, squeezing it.

“yes, you are. super pretty.” his voice was softer now. “those girls that call you ugly are all wrong. you’re beautiful. inside and out. don’t let their lies get to you too much.”

you heard the buzz of his phone again, and harua’s sigh.

“i’ve gotta go again. get home safe, okay?”

“i will. bye, harua.”

“bye.”

you sat there in silence for a while, processing his words. harua thought you were pretty, beautiful even. the thought made you feel slightly better.

---

when school finally started in september, nothing had changed. your classmates were still as rowdy as they were last semester. loud and annoying, making stupid jokes when the teacher wasn’t paying attention, messing with each other’s work books. the usual. harua stood out to you, his quietness contrasting the ruckus of the class. just sat at his desk, writing. nothing else. your heart ached. he was so innocent. yet what they did to him was nothing short of corrupt. you wanted to stick up for him so badly. to protect him from the horrible things they do. you wanted it all to stop.

half way through september, harua didn’t come in for nearly 2 weeks. you were so worried about him. you had tried to call his house phone, but none of your calls were answered. the last friday of september was when you finally heard from him. he had left a note under your book.

‘hi y/n. sorry i’ve been gone for so long. i hope you didn’t miss me too much, haha. i miss you a lot these days. i’ve been feeling tired constantly. the doctor gave me medicine for that, so don’t worry! all is well. take care of yourself too, okay? i’ll be back in school soon, promise!

- harua’

you were relieved to hear from him after a fortnight of radio silence. but something was off. he seemed… happy, despite what he was telling you in the letter. he was sick, it seemed, yet he wrote like it was just any other day. it was very different to how he usually wrote, but at least it was something. you were just glad to finally get an update on harua.

your luck ran short on october 1st. you’d been caught by the girls just as you were leaving class, insisting you come outside with them.

“we’re bored.” one said, her nails digging into your wrist as she dragged you outside. “need some entertainment.”

they got straight to work once you reached the school court. your cheek slammed against the cold concrete of the ground. time felt like it slowed down with every blow to the stomach, every hit to your head and back. the girls were always relentless with you. the metallic taste of blood coated your teeth, trickled down your chin. it was on your hands too, scraped from when they pushed you over. everything ached and stung, a sharp buzz rang in your ears.

you spotted harua stood at the other end of the court. he just stood there, frozen. didn’t run. didn’t help. harua didn’t do anything. he was stood there like a deer in headlights. you didn’t bother calling for him. 

the boy stayed at the other side silently until the girls left, jogging over once the coast was clear. your head was pounding. harua helped you sit up, the blood dripping down the side of your head. you felt the warm liquid slide all the way to your neck. it tickled. harua wiped at it with the back of his hand. his touch was tender. 

“why did they do this?”

“i don’t know. because they w-wanted to.” you murmured, bottom lip trembling with adrenaline. harua sighed knowingly.

“you don’t deserve it.” he said. you noticed his shaky breathing. “not at all.”

the two of you trudged to the school gate, reaching the street. the sound of the cars did nothing to hide the sound of harua’s sobs.

“harua, please don’t cry.” you whispered, your hand squeezing his. 

“i-i’m not.” he insisted, wiping his face with his sleeve. 

both of you stood in silence as he cried. he swiped at his eyes, trying to hide the tears. you saw them anyway.

“i’ve gotta go. i’m sorry. please stay safe.”

you nodded, and he left you, walking down the street. guilt washed through your damaged body.

the blood had crystalised on your face and hands as you walked home. shock covered your dad’s face when you walked through the door, rushing over to check on you.

“what the hell happened to you?”

“i tripped over and fell hard. nothing too bad, don’t worry.” you led through your bloody teeth. “i’ll be alright, dad.”

he didn’t seem too convinced as you limped past him, climbing up the stairs agonisingly slow. you rush to your bedroom, collapsing onto your bed with a pained sigh. you cried yourself to sleep that night, blood still dry on your skin.

the pain thumped through you for days after. any bruises and marks were covered with makeup. as good as new. almost. 

---

the sick, anxiety-inducing feeling in your stomach only got worse as time passed. your father insisted on taking you to the doctor’s clinic for your busted lip. it had gotten infected. you refused to go, trying your best to convince him that you were fine really, and that it’ll heal on it’s own. you didn’t want to go to the doctors. that would only make you feel worse.

you ended up skipping school for a few days, not wanting to face the girls again. at least not until your injuries were fully healed. harua noticed your absence immediately. he started sending letters to the house again. 

‘i hope you’re okay. you haven’t been to school in 2 days. let’s hang out on the rooftop again? i’ll be there at 6 either way.’

‘there was a fight at school today, it was sooo funny. sad you missed it. wish you were here. can we hangout today? if you’re feeling better?’

‘i miss you, y/n. it’s been 5 days. please talk to me. i’ll be at the swings later. please come.’

you never answered his letters. you never showed up at the rooftop or the swings either. 

you didn’t leave your bedroom much at all, actually. instead, you stayed laying on your mattress, staring up at the ceiling for hours on end. you sifted through hundreds of thoughts, what ifs. as the cold autumn wind blew in through your open window, your skin pricked with goosebumps, you thought of death. it always lingered in the back of your mind, but these days it was pushed up to the front. you questioned the concept of suicide, the ending of all of your problems. they wouldn’t exist anymore, you would be free. it sounded enticing. perfect. you’d always wondered what it would be like. maybe dying is akin to eternal sleep, where you aren’t aware that you’ve disappeared. forever relaxed, all anxiety gone. forever. 

forever sounded nice.

eventually your father persuaded (more so begged) for you to try to go to school. you went to keep him from nagging too much. another letter from harua sat on your desk chair when you came back in after lunch.

‘hi y/n, i hope you’re okay. i’m glad you’re back at school. i missed you so much. recently, i’ve been really worried about you, especially after they beat you like that.

i know it’s so hard for you, everything seems to be against you. but i want you to know that i’m not. i never will be. please don’t give up. not just for yourself, but for me too. if you give up, i might too.

- harua’

the piece of paper was damp by the time you put it in your backpack.

---

a few days after halloween, november 4th, your dad had an accident. he broke his arm. he was trying to fix the upstairs window on the outside of the house, and the ladder gave way. there was blood all over his clothes, and you swore you could see the bone poking out of his forearm. a gruesome sight. he left the house immediately, rushing to the hospital.

you sat by the front door all day, only getting up to go to the bathroom. it was 5 in the afternoon when he came back, arm in a cast and sling. you thought he looked kind of cool like that. hopefully he’d let you sign it later.

“you sat by the door?” your father asked, chuckling.

“yeah. i was worried about you.”

“have you eaten anything today?”

you shook your head, and he ruffled your hair with his free hand. 

“you’re something else, kiddo. let’s get you some dinner.”

the past few weeks had caused you and harua to drift slightly, your absence from school stretching the distance between you both. he hadn’t sent many letters to your house. maybe he was waiting for you to reach out. you wanted to apologise to him and go back to normal. how things were before. 

‘hi harua. i’m really sorry about everything. so much stuff has happened in the past month and i’ve kind of been struggling. my dad broke his arm. you should’ve seen it. super gross. 

i miss you. i don’t think i’ve said that as much as i should. i want to see you again. by the rooftops? i promise i’ll be there this time.

- y/n’

you had pushed the letter into his pencil case on the 22nd and prayed he answered. the next day, when you walked into the class, harua was staring directly at you. when you looked back, he gave you a simple, knowing nod. that was all you needed.

after school, the two of you sat on top of the rooftop, legs dangling off the edge like usual. everything felt almost back to normal now.

“sorry for ignoring your letters.” you muttered, picking at the loose thread of your hoodie. “i just felt a little… off. but i’m all good now, promise.”

“it’s fine, you don’t need to apologise. i get that feeling sometimes too. as long as you’re okay, i forgive you.” harua’s hand found yours, his fingers interlinking with yours. warm. like always.

“i’m glad we’re good again.” he added, a smile on his face. 

you had completely ignored him for days. he seemed to have forgiven you too quickly. the guilt still sat deep inside, but harua seemed perfectly fine. it was confusing.

something was off. but, as usual, you don’t question him about it.

the two of you stayed on the rooftop until the sun had fully set. it was cold. very cold.

---

everything happened so fast.

it was december 7th when word got out, spreading around the school like wildfire. a student at your school, gone. died of a terminal illness. it was harua.

he hadn’t told you about it. not one hint or mention of any illness. but it all made sense. the expensive bills, staying near the hospital, his pale skin and weakness. the bullying. it all made sense now. and it hurt. so bad.

you left school immediately after you heard. you just ran - out of the class, out of the building. away. away from everyone. the tears never seemed to give up, a stream falling down your face, a melancholy river. you felt scared, heartbroken, alone. your only genuine friend, gone. just like that, as if his existence was a brief figment of your imagination. you felt lied to. harua had never told you about his illness. maybe he was too afraid of what you might think. the thought only made the pain worse. 

the days dragged by numbingly slow. you stopped going to school. you couldn’t face any of them anymore. not without harua. you spent hours upon hours just walking through the town, dragging yourself through each winding street. maybe you were searching for harua. you didn’t know. you walked with your headphones in, drowning out all other noise, pencil and book in your bag. they were your sacred belongings now. holding the memories of your hundreds of letters written to him. a part of you felt his presence whenever your hand held the pencil, traced the spine of your book. as if he was still there, waiting for your response. 

it had been 10 days since harua’s death. you talked to a lady who you recognised to be harua’s grandmother. she had dementia. she told you the same story five times. it was about harua, and how he had returned from school one day talking of you. 

“he spoke so highly of you, that boy.” she said, sighing. “the ‘pretty girl from school' is what he had called you.”

she told you how her heart broke when he died, his slow battle with a lifelong illness. all you could do was understand her pain. 

the two of you parted ways after an hour. 

walking by the hospital, you wondered if when you yourself become 84, your legs having walked for decades, your brain no longer able to catch up - that all you would have left is the same stories about harua. the same stories that broke your heart to think of when he died. the same feelings and memories that you held in place of him.

---

sometimes, if you focus hard enough, you can still remember how harua’s lips felt against yours for that brief moment last summer. the kiss barely counted, but it was a kiss. just for you and harua. you wished you had a chance to kiss him properly. feel every ridge and flaw of his lips, every movement of his tongue against yours. please, you’d whisper in the dead of night. please just one more kiss.

you never admitted to yourself, or to anyone for that matter, how much you liked the kiss you shared with harua. you could only hope he did too. 

it was warm. so warm.

you decided to write harua one final letter, a letter of confession, feelings and thoughts you never earnt the courage to tell him with.

‘my angel harua,

the first and only time i kissed you was in heaven. your heaven. one kiss, i was totally hooked. addicted to you. i was too afraid to tell you. forgive me. 

being your friend, i wanted to make up for all the love you thought you didn’t deserve. i love you, shigeta harua. i’m sorry i never had the chance to tell you.

i could never love anyone the way i love you. i’d follow you across every universe. and that’s what i intend to do.

see you soon, okay? wait for me.

- the pretty girl from school.’

you folded the note and shoved it in your pocket, your hair blowing in the cold wind of the evening. the wind was always stronger when you were standing on the rooftop.

you closed your eyes once your feet were planted on the edge. a wave of warmth washed over your skin. it felt like harua. you were ready.

and when you finally let go, it felt nice to fly. really nice.

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having a roommate like maki was always easy. the guy was so caring and thoughtful. 

not only did he make sure the fridge was always stocked, he offered to cook for you as well. 

maki was also a clean freak and did it for his own enjoyment, insisting he did the housework when you came home from work exhausted. you called him your saviour every time, telling him you’ll do it tomorrow - but he always got to it first.

maki made sure to keep it down when you took midday naps, putting his headphones on and staying in his room to refrain from disturbing you. your rest came first.

---

you had been living with maki for around 7 months now. the living situation came to be when money got tight for you, rent in your other apartment becoming too high for you to comfortably pay and still afford other things. it didn’t help that your other roommates were total dickheads - purposefully making it difficult for you to live with them; never cleaning up after themselves, stealing your belongings when they thought you weren’t aware, never paying their split of the rent on time. your landlord hated them, respectively.

you felt like you were going crazy living with them, stress levels through the roof. 

you didn’t hesitate to reach out to maki after scrolling past his roommate advertisement on instagram. luckily for you, he accepted your application after a few days, your situation making him more willing to let you live with him, and you were moved in within a month.

---

maki was especially caring on that late saturday night, the howls of the wind and cracks of lightning loud outside the building as you slept. 

your peaceful slumber came to an abrupt ending as you shot up from your pillow, hands shaking. sweat formed on your brow quickly. you had the most vivid nightmare to date, the creepy visuals still replaying in your mind as you sat there, hands gripping the covers. you felt boiling hot despite your window being open ajar.

---

you pulled on your hoodie and left your room, heading to the kitchen in need of a glass of water. making sure to be quiet, you filled a small cup with cold water, chugging it at the sink. once you were done, you started walking back to your room.

still suffering the aftermath of your nightmare, body still wary, the darkness of the apartment freaked you out. right as you turned the corner into the hallway, you bumped into maki, who was just leaving the bathroom. he could see the distress in your expression.

“hey, what are you doin’ up? are you okay?” maki asked, concern painted on his face. you nodded, not wanting to worry him too much.

“y-yeah i’m good. just got water.” you said, voice unnaturally shaky. “had a nightmare. just shaken up, i guess.”

maki’s expression softened immediately, a sigh escaping his lungs. he knew that these night terrors were becoming more frequent for you as of recently.

“c’mere.” he whispered, opening his arms to you. when you hesitated, he pulled you into his chest, rocking you back and forth for a moment. “another one, hm?”

“...yeah. this one was pretty bad.”

maki knew better than to ask what happened, not wanting to make you think of it anymore. instead, he pulled back from the hug, looking down at you.

“i can stay with you tonight, if you like.” he offered. “i’ll make sure you get enough rest. i’ll look after you.”

you accepted without a second thought, your hand slipping into his and pulling him to your bedroom down the hall.

---

once the bedroom door shut, maki guided you into bed gently, climbing in to lay next to you and pulling the blanket on top of the two of you. he pulled you closer, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of his cologne that he always applied in the mornings. it was a comforting scent for you. legs tangled, arms wrapped around each other, you were cuddling maki now. 

you hadn’t been this close to your roommate before, but it felt right, normal even. it felt just like any other caring gesture of his, especially with how sweet he treats you in any other situation. 

“sleep, love. i’ll be here when you wake up, alright?” he whispered, lips brushing your hairline accidentally. he was so close. 

you were quick to fall asleep after that, with maki’s arm draped over your waist, hand splayed across your back. you felt safe when he was near, knowing he’ll be there in the event you have another terrible dream.

once he was sure you were asleep, maki pressed a slow, barely-there kiss to your forehead, his lips soft on your skin.

“goodnight.”

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“okay, sweetheart, close your eyes.” euijoo murmured against your cheek before pulling back, a small giggle escaping from your lips as your eyelids fluttered shut. you could hear him move next to you, the blanket beneath you rustling with the motion.

the gentle breeze brushed itself through your hair, the cool evening air sending a shiver up your spine. as you sat there with your eyes shut tight, euijoo’s soft hand finding your face, your mind is sent back to the beginning. back to when everything began.

---

all those years ago, you had met euijoo in high school - painfully awkward interactions, terrible haircuts, even worse outfits. he had approached you during the school’s annual prom, both of you stood awkwardly to the side, no date to dance with.

“hey, uh, i’m euijoo. you probably already know that,” he said, his hands adjusting the blazer he wore. “you… you here alone too?”

you nodded, fixing your hair as you glanced at him.

“i know you. and yeah, i’m here alone too.”

your eyes didn’t miss the brief frown that flickered across his face. it was quickly replaced with a sheepish grin, his hand extended to you.

“well, um… wanna dance with me?” euijoo asked, sounding hopeful. you took his hand gratefully.

“of course i would.”

what blossomed from that fateful prom night was a beautiful relationship. both of you were unfamiliar with what love looked like, but it somehow felt natural when you were together, like finding a missing puzzle piece after searching for so long. you’d shared nervous touches, ‘accidental’ brushes of hands, pinkies linking as you walked to class together. sometimes, if euijoo felt brave, he’d cup your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead when he walked you home.

“see you tomorrow.” he’d whisper into your skin, cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink that you found utterly adorable.

you always loved how warm his hands felt on your cheeks.

---

“are you listening?” euijoo’s voice pulled you back into the present moment. you cleared your throat, nodding, your eyes still shut.

“yeah, i’m listening.”

“okay, good.”

a beat of silence passed, the sounds of the ocean calmly crashing against the shore being the only noise you could hear for a moment. then he continued.

“ever since the day i first spoke to you, at that stupid school dance… i’ve been sure of my feelings for you.” euijoo’s voice wavered ever so slightly. “and i’ve tried my best to show you every single day how undeniably in love i am.”

that familiar buzz of emotion hit you, tears already building up on your waterline.

“open your eyes, sweetheart.”

slowly, your eyes opened, adjusting to the light before focusing on what was in front of you - euijoo, on one knee, his big brown eyes full of love as he looked at you.

“oh, euijoo…” you whispered, the hot tears falling before you could say anything more.

“this has been on my mind for a while, i’m pretty nervous.” euijoo chuckled quietly, clearing his throat before fishing for something in his pocket. “my love for you can’t be expressed with the words of any language. you make me the happiest man on earth, and i’m so proud to be yours.”

pulling out a small box, he flips it open, revealing a beautiful ring, a diamond center stone, with encrusted gems along the band. you’d only ever dreamt of a ring as perfect as this.

“my love, will you marry me?”

time felt like it stopped when those words fell from his lips - the words you’d been waiting for since the day you met. 

“yes, baby. yes.”

sliding the ring over your finger, euijoo let out a heavy sigh of relief, his eyes watery as he admired you. he pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you. quiet sobs escaped both of you and euijoo, your face buried in his shoulder. everything about the moment felt unreal.

“i love you so much, euijoo.”

“i love you so much more.”

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