Chapter Text
There's a boy who sits behind her in class, that Aoi often speaks to her about.
He has bandages covering his arms, and is like a wraith that comes in and out of their classroom. Some days he doesn't show up at all, and when he comes back there are only more bruises decorating his skin.
The rumours spread, but nobody really looks at him.
"I heard that he's a delinquent."
"A friend of a friend told me he killed a man."
"His brother is so sweet, though."
Nene isn't really one for gossip, but she can't help but wonder what was going on at home. She would sometimes catch the teacher giving him a concerned look, and she would turn around to see his amber gaze fixed on the sky, staring out the window.
She's always liked boys who were tall and handsome, with sharp features that remind her of a prince (like Minamoto-senpai). Amane is the opposite of that, yet in these moments she feels her heart skip a beat. He never looks back at her, doesn't seem to notice that she stares, and she'll turn around and pretend like nothing happened.
Today, she turns around without being reminded, of her own volition, and he's staring out the window again. It's open a sliver, and the spring wind comes in to play with his hair. He looks ethereal like that, gaze fixed on a sea of blue, like he didn't belong in this world, like he was fading away.
Her face heats up and she feels her breath get caught in her throat. She knows her type, and he wasn't it, so then why-
And then he turns.
His eyes go wide, big and round and pretty on her, and there's a band-aid on his left cheek. He blinks, looking surprised, as if he couldn't believe that someone was actually looking at him. She stares for a while, transfixed because she realizes she's never really seen his face until she realizes what she was doing and turns around, face red from humiliation at being caught.
Oh god he must think I'm a creep!
She does not notice his gaze on her for the rest of the class.
Later, at lunch, Aoi is dragged away for yet another confession, and Nene is left alone for lunch. She sighs as she walks through the halls, clutching her lunch box to her chest in search of a place to eat when she spots Amane in the corner of her eyes, heading up the stairs to the rooftop.
Is that where he eats lunch?
With a sudden and flaming resolution, she decides to follow him up to the rooftop, both as a way to prove that she is not, in fact, a creep (even though following him doesn't make it better), and simply out pure curiosity. How does Amane, the quiet delinquent, spend his lunches?
She climbs up the stairs, careful to avoid the fourth step.
"Hey, have you heard of the story of the Misaki Stairs? They say if you step on the fourth step, you'll be transported away!"
When she finally gets to the door, she takes a deep breath, preparing herself as she turns the knob.
The door splits ajar, and the wind plays with her hair.
The door splits ajar, and Amane is on the edge of the rooftop.
Amane is on the edge, and he's looking at the sky.
And the wind is playing with his hair.
"Don't!"