"Childhood sweethearts!?"
"And he taught you how to speak, day after day, starting when you were three or four?"
"Shouko, are you sure you're not making this up!? Boys like that only exist in anime or manga!"
The group of girls surrounding Shouko all stared at her, stunned by what they'd just heard.
"Miyamura Akira…" the gray-haired girl murmured, tapping her chin. "That name sounds so familiar…"
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was just loud enough for the others to hear.
Until now, they'd all been distracted by the romantic drama in Shouko's story. None of them had even noticed the name of the "boy" she had mentioned.
That changed in an instant.
"Wait… isn't that the name of the guy sitting next to Shouko?"
One girl, who stood in the aisle to Shouko's left, suddenly pointed at the desk beside her—where Akira was fast asleep.
There were about thirty students in the class, and the ones with striking looks naturally stood out more, especially when paired with a memorable name.
Akira happened to check both boxes.
All the girls immediately turned to look at him.
Even after pulling their gaze away, one of them looked back at Shouko in disbelief.
"Nishimiya-san… you don't mean that he's the childhood friend, do you?"
Without hesitation, Shouko nodded.
Suddenly, the girl's stomach felt sour—like she'd just swallowed a lemon whole.
She had been genuinely touched when Shouko first described a boy who stayed by her side for so long, helping her patiently and selflessly.
Now that she realized the guy wasn't just kind-hearted but also ridiculously handsome, that warm feeling had turned into mild heartbreak.
"Be honest, Nishimiya-san… are you just messing with me?" she asked again, clearly hoping the answer would change.
Shouko tilted her head, not understanding why she'd say that, but she still shook her head. "I'm not."
Ding dong… ding dong...!
Just as the girl was about to respond, the class bell rang, and she could only sigh and promise to talk more with Shouko during the next break.
The rest of the girls also said their goodbyes and reluctantly returned to their seats.
"Nishimiya-san is really popular…"
Shouko turned toward the voice and noticed Nobe hadn't arrived yet. She quickly leaned back toward Takagi Sana and apologized.
"I'm sorry, Takagi-san. I didn't expect them to be so enthusiastic…"
But Takagi gently stopped her from putting her hands together in apology and waved it off with a smile.
"Hehe, it's fine, really. You don't need to apologize."
She had been listening quietly the entire time. To be honest, she still couldn't quite believe it either.
Shouko's childhood friend started teaching her how to speak from the age of three—every single day?
Takagi tried imagining herself in that role, and she already knew—she wouldn't have lasted more than two days.
She'd probably get frustrated, maybe even resentful, especially if Shouko had resisted or struggled.
Most kids wouldn't have had the patience. But this boy—Akira—stuck with it for years.
Takagi glanced over at Akira, who was still sleeping soundly.
Sensing that Shouko still wanted to apologize more, she cleverly shifted the subject.
"More importantly, you should probably wake up your childhood friend soon. If Nobe comes in and sees him like that, he's going to get scolded."
"Oh! You're right!" Shouko turned quickly and began gently shaking Akira's shoulder.
"Akira, Akira… wake up. Class is starting. Nobe's going to be here soon…"
Meanwhile, in the corner of the classroom, the Crew Cut Guy—who had returned from the restroom—looked absolutely defeated. Read complete version only at Nove1Fire.net
"What happened to you?" his friend asked, noticing the expression on his face. "You look constipated. If you've gotta go, just go."
"No, I'm heartbroken!" he said, clutching his chest. "I was too late…"
"Too late for what? Did you... poop your pants?"
"Screw you! I'm talking about Shouko-chan!"
His friend paused, then raised an eyebrow. "You mean the girl from earlier?"
"Yes! I rushed over as soon as class ended, but someone beat me to it!"
"You were only a few minutes late. Why can't you still compete?"
"There's no competing! I lost by thirteen years!"
"He's been cultivating this since he was one year old!"
"…You mean he's been close to her since they were toddlers?"
"…Dang. Okay. That's hard to beat."
Just then, the classroom door opened and Nobe entered, followed by a few boys in school uniforms carrying large stacks of textbooks.
The class quieted down on its own. They all knew what this meant—textbook distribution.
"Thanks for the help," Nobe said.
"No problem, Nobe." The lead boy set the books down on the podium, said goodbye politely, and left with the others.
Nobe turned to the class.
"Alright everyone, settle down. Just like earlier—come up one by one to collect your textbooks."
About twenty minutes passed as each student came forward to get their books. The tall stack on the podium steadily shrank.
Once the last student returned to their seat, Nobe clapped the chalkboard.
"Everyone, please check if you've received all eight textbooks: Japanese Language, Mathematics, Social Studies, Science, English, Health and P.E., Music and Art, and Technology and Home Economics."
The class murmured confirmation.
"Good. Now, please write your name on the second page of each book. I don't want to hear about anyone losing their textbooks later."
Pens and pencils clicked as students pulled them from their bags and began writing.
Shouko noticed Akira still staring blankly at the podium, yawning lazily, his hands nowhere near a pen.
She leaned toward him and whispered:
"Akira… want me to write your name for you?"
After years of growing up together, Shouko could tell right away when he was slipping into what she called 'lazy mode.'
She knew exactly what he was thinking: It's just a name… does it even matter?
And, well, she was sitting right there.
Helping him was no trouble at all—and it'd save both his books and his pride.
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