Chapter Text
Nakamura felt like he had been drowning in the ocean.
Not that he minded it; the ocean was a safe space for him, with so many fascinating creatures that had been the focus of every sketchbook he had owned. Though sometimes, Nakamura felt like he didn’t belong on the land. Like he was always submerged into the water, and couldn’t hear right.
He was weird, he knew that much. Ever since he was younger, he preferred playing in the ocean rather than going out with classmates. He’d rather draw in his sketchbook or on his hands than talk to other people. He didn’t care about the recent fashion trends, and never put much importance on “friends”.
But now he was in high school. A whole different environment, away from most of the kids he had grown up with and learned to avoid. It felt like he had been thrust into the deep end when he’d been swimming in the shallow bits all his life.
Nakamura forced himself to focus on the presentation that the principal, a man who looked ninety years older than ninety, was giving about their introduction into Hoshimi high school. It was hard, though, when the man spoke softly and conveniently like white noise. Nakamura had already seen that half his row was drifting off.
In another sense, Nakamura felt his eyes drifting away from the stage, and to his fellow year mates. He had done this every year, surveyed his classmates, admired different facial structures, and wondered why some person had a scar somewhere. It was good material that shaped the rare sketches he made of humans.
Nakamura’s eyes fell on a boy in the row in front of him. Nakamura blinked, wondering if his eyes had faltered.
Poetically, the boy was the sun. The pure, radiant sun that Nakamura had only seen dappled through the surface of the water. He looked rare, like a fresh breath of air when Nakamura had to come up for breath.
Nakamura felt his heart stutter. What?
The boy turned around, and the two locked eyes. They stared at each other for a moment, then the other boy waved. It was small, just a simple hand raise with a smile.
Nakamura felt sunburnt.
The boy was still looking at him. Nakamura felt his hand lift, and he gave him a wave back, even though he was sure the boy was waving to a friend behind him. Nakamura knew the friend waved back at the same time as Nakamura, because the boy smiled wider and mimed a yawn, pointing towards the stage. Nakamura gave a soft chuckle, but it must have come out strangled, because the boy stared at him for one long second, eyes a little wide, then he turned back to face the stage.
Oh no. Nakamura had just embarrassed himself in front of the first person he had made eye contact with. It was a great start to the year.
Nakamura felt his ears heat up, and he was thankful that his hair was covering his blushing ears, because he felt the gazes from the people nearby linger on him. Now he had to hide his laugh to avoid embarrassing himself again.
The class listing wasn’t the stressful part. Nakamura didn’t care who was in his class; he barely knew anyone here. The stressful part was:
“Hey!”
Nakamura had found a seat already. The teacher was nice enough to let them pick, Nakamura thought, though it didn’t matter to Nakamura. The person in front of him, however…
It was the boy again. The sun. The boy looked down at him, his bag slung over his shoulder. Nakamura looked up at him, getting a closer glimpse. The boy had really nice brown eyes, while Nakamura’s were so dark they bordered on black.
Nakamura raised an eyebrow. Why was someone, the boy of all people, standing right in front of him?
Nakamura counted to three before answering. He found that it helped in these scenarios where his heart decided to run a marathon.
“Yes?” Nakamura settled on an easy word. The boy smiled brighter, if that was possible.
“You’re the guy that was behind me in the entrance ceremony, right?” the boy said excitedly. Nakamura felt embarrassed. So he remembers… Even though it was barely an hour ago, Nakamura had hoped everyone would move on. After all, he did have a plain face.
“...yeah.”
“Cool!” the boy exclaimed. “I’m Hirose. Hirose Aiki. What’s your name?”
“Nakamura Okuto.” Nakamura responded, not exactly agreeing on how Nakamura being behind him during the entrance ceremony was cool, but his thoughts had already moved on. Hirose Aiki. That seemed like a good name. A name for someone popular. A pretty name that Nakamura had already found impossible to forget.
The boy–Hirose– paused for a moment. Nakamura wondered if he was supposed to start up another conversation, but he decided against it, instead meeting Hirose’s eyes again.
Hirose blinked, then smiled again.
Nakamura felt his heart race another time.
What is going on?
“Nice to meet you, Nakamura-kun! Can I sit in front of you?” Hirose asked.
“Go ahead,” Nakamura said without thinking. He was stuck on the part where Hirose had used -kun for his name.
“Thanks!” Hirose slipped into the seat in front of him, taking off his bag. He probably dropped something, because he turned back towards Nakamura, opening his mouth again, but someone interrupted him.
“Hirose~” another boy called, dropping into the seat in front of Hirose. Hirose turned back around, greeting the other boy. Nakamura thought he saw Hirose frown for a moment.
Nakamura looked around for whatever Hirose had dropped, while the new boy had started rambling about girls he found cute in their year. Hirose nodded along politely, though Nakamura could tell he was uncomfortable.
Nakamura couldn’t find anything. Weird, he thought.
Their teacher, Otogiri Sensei, was nice during his introduction, albeit a little strict. He reminded Nakamura of those gangster male leads in the Thai shows his sister always made him watch. He could totally picture Otogiri Sensei in a leather jacket and slicked hair.
When the bell rang, most of their classmates stood up and left, to go meet friends from other classes or to hang out somewhere else. Nakamura stayed in his seat. He didn’t really want to get up yet.
“Nakamura-kun?”
It was a girl in the seat to his right. Someone he coincidentally recognized, from their middle school art club. Hifumi… he remembered her first name. Ah! Kawamura!
“Kawamura-chan,” Nakamura nodded.
She smiled back sheepishly. She had been one of the only girls in their middle school who had spoken with him, mostly over their shared love of art.
“Are you joining the art club this year again?” she asked him.
He thought about it for a moment. “I don’t think so. It was fun last year, but I’m going to focus on my studies now." He also wasn’t sure he wanted any attention on him, like during art showcases. Hoshimi high school was much bigger than his middle school had been.
Kawamura hummed at that. They’d both been on the more talented side during their time in the art club, so she understood what he meant. She was also on the shy side.
“Okay. I think I’m still going to join this year. Try and get out of my comfort zone.” she smiled.
Nakamura smiled back. He had to admit, it was nice meeting someone here that he already knew, and had things in common with. He felt himself stutter less around her, too.
“Join what?”
Hirose had turned around again, his earlier friend, who Nakamura had learned was named Takeuchi, having left the classroom with another boy, Mukai.
Hirose blushed a little. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to butt in.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“It’s fine,” Nakamura and Kawamura said at the same time. They opened their mouths to speak at the same time, too.
“The art club,” Kawamura explained, looking a little shy.
“Oh! You’re an artist?” Hirose leaned forward, intrigued.
“Yes,” Kawamura said, barely a whisper. She seemed embarrassed.
“But not as good as Nakamura-kun!” Kawamura waved her hands, quick to push the attention off of her.
“Nakamura-kun?” Hirose turned to him, eyes shining brighter.
Bu-dump.
Nakamura had to count to five before responding this time.
“I’m not that good,” he said.
“He is! You should have seen his watercolor during the art showcase last year!” Kawamura insisted. She pulled out her phone. “I think I took a photo…”
Nakamura wanted to tell her to stop, but Hirose had directed his attention to the phone, waiting.
“Here it is!”
It was a watercolor Nakamura made of a picture his dad had taken when he was a child. His mother stood with her back to the camera, carrying Nakamura on her shoulder. He had his arms raised to the sky, which had faded from blue into a sunset full of purples and oranges. They had been on a trip to the beach, a rare occasion, since they were so busy now.
Nakamura had painted it for fun, but his art teacher encouraged him to enter, so he did. He won first place, which he had been very proud of, but still embarrassed nonetheless. He hadn’t said a word when he received the award, simply bowing and leaving the stage.
“Wow…” Hirose took the phone, which Kawamura had given him. “This is amazing.” he told Nakamura, looking at him appraisingly.
“I-it was nothing.” Nakamura said, growing flustered.
“I’m serious! Are you not planning on entering the art club?” he asked.
“No…” Nakamura said, giving Hirose the same explanation he gave Kawamura.
“I see,” Hirose said, though it looked like he didn’t see. “That’s okay, of course! But you should still keep drawing!”
Nakamura nodded. After today, he suspected he might fill a page with drawings.
“Are you planning on joining any clubs, Hirose-kun?” Kawamura asked.
Hirose hummed in thought. “Takeuchi-san wanted us to join the baseball team,” he said.
“San?” Nakamura couldn’t help but ask. “Aren’t you two close friends?”
Hirose shook his head, eyebrows knit together. Nakamura got the weird urge to smooth out the crease.
“We just met at the entrance ceremony.” Hirose explained. “He’s a little…”
“Enthusiastic?” Kawamura supplied. Hirose nodded.
“Are you going to join, then?” Nakamura asked.
Hirose seemed to consider it, eyes dimming slightly. He reminded Nakamura of a puppy dog, endearing on many levels.
“No,” he decided. “I think it’s better to focus on my studies this year, too.” he looked at Nakamura, smiling. Nakamura felt his cheeks warm.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
And then the moment was gone. The break was over, and Takeuchi came back to devour Hirose’s time. Hirose shot Nakamura an apologetic look, as Kawamura was already engaged in a conversation with the girl behind her.
The conversation had been nice while it lasted. It seemed easy, unlike other conversations Nakamura had had.
Nakamura didn’t care that it was over. Not too much, though his smile faltered a little as he looked back down at the English text book he never put away.
They were reviewing a section that he might have remembered learning the year before.
The section in front of him was on “love”
Nakamura didn’t remember learning that.