Minato Mizuhara transfers from Kanagawa and perfectly plays the role of a bright, cheerful newcomer. He smiles at everyone, chats easily, and blends into the class. But on his first day, one girl sees through his mask: Akari Kajiwara, the ace of the judo club. She simply says, 'That laugh—you used the same one before.' Minato freezes, his fingertips turning cold.
From then on, they start walking home together. Beside the silent Akari, who asks nothing, Minato finds an odd comfort. He gradually
The Classroom Without Sunlight - The Man Who Came Back
The first Monday of July. The air in the classroom had been restless since morning.
Final exams were a week away. A "Exam Scope Sheet" was posted at the edge of the blackboard, and more students were opening their textbooks during breaks. Outside the window, the faint sunlight between the rainy season clouds cast a pale white glow on the school building's walls.
Minato sat at his desk, flipping through a classical Japanese vocabulary book.
(Today will start normally, too.)
That's what he thought.
The morning homeroom chime rang. The homeroom teacher, Fujii Rie, stood at the podium, the hem of her navy blue suit swaying. The twenty-nine-year-old Japanese literature teacher wore a slightly more solemn expression than usual. Behind her black-rimmed glasses, her eyes swept across the classroom.
Alright, we'll begin morning homeroom. But first, I have an announcement for everyone.
Fujii placed both hands on the podium.
Starting today, three transfer students will be joining this class.
The classroom stirred with a murmur.
"What, three of them?"
"Isn't it rare to transfer at this time of year?"
"I wonder what they're like."
Whispers leaked from here and there. Minato closed his vocabulary book and looked at the podium.
(Transfer students, huh.)
Minato himself had transferred to this Kounan High School in April. So he understood well what it felt like for a transfer student to open the classroom door.
(It's okay. Everyone's nervous at first. But if you smile, things work out somehow.)
Minato murmured that in his heart.
Fujii called toward the classroom entrance.
All three of you, please come in.
The door opened.
The first to enter was a small-statured boy. He was slightly hunched, with long bangs hiding his eyes. He curved his thin lips into a frown and scanned the classroom as if appraising it.
(Koyanagi, Atsushi.)
Minato's fingertips twitched.
The second person.
A large-statured boy passed through the door. Nearly a hundred and eighty centimeters tall. Broad-shouldered, with muscles visible even through his uniform. Short-cropped hair. Thick eyebrows. Eyes that looked down on people, making it impossible to tell if he was smiling or angry.
(Hazaki, Ryo.)
Minato pressed the wristband on his right wrist hard with his left thumb.
And then, the third person.
The atmosphere in the classroom changed in an instant.
A tall boy entered slowly. A hundred and seventy-five centimeters. His slightly long black hair was swept to the right, not a single strand out of place. Narrow, double-lidded eyes. A smile of perfect angle at the corners of his mouth. On his left wrist, a high-end brand watch gleamed.
Shiraishi Yuma.
The vocabulary book slipped from Minato's hand.
A soft pattering sound.
Even though it was just that, the gaze of the entire classroom gathered on Minato.
(No.)
(Why.)
(Why is he, here.)
Minato tried to make a smile.
Raise the corners of his mouth. Narrow his eyes. The usual, perfect fake smile.
But he couldn't.
His mouth twitched. The muscles in his cheeks stiffened against his own will. His eyes weren't smiling. Rather, they were wide open, fixed on Shiraishi's face.
(Smile.)
(Smile, damn it.)
(If I can't smile here, everything ends.)
Minato screamed in his heart.
But his face wouldn't move.
In front of the podium, Shiraishi looked at Minato.
Those eyes narrowed.
Oh, Mizuhara-kun? What a coincidence.
Shiraishi's voice carried well, as if resonating to every corner of the classroom.
"Wait, Shiraishi-kun, you know Mizuhara-kun?"
"He's a transfer student but already has an acquaintance?"
The classmates murmured.
Shiraishi shrugged apologetically in front of the podium.
Ah, sorry, teacher. I spoke up before the self-introductions. Mizuhara-kun and I went to the same middle school. We were really close.
Minato couldn't speak.
(Really close?)
(What you did to me—)
Beside Shiraishi, Hazaki snorted. Koyanagi glanced at Minato from under his bangs.
Fujii looked at Shiraishi and the others, slightly perplexed.
Is that so. Then, Mizuhara-kun, that must be reassuring. Now then, let's have you introduce yourselves.
Shiraishi stood in front of the podium.
Straightening his back, he surveyed the entire classroom.
I'm Shiraishi Yuma. I transferred to Kounan High School from a middle school in Kanagawa. My hobbies are reading and talking with people. Like Mizuhara-kun, I want to get along with everyone quickly.
Small applause rose from here and there in the classroom.
"Isn't he cool?"
"He's the refreshing type."
"He's tall, and his way of speaking is polite."
Several girls exchanged glances with each other, covering their mouths with their hands. The boys also whispered, "He seems nice."
Minato pretended to pick up the vocabulary book that had fallen on the floor, averting his gaze from Shiraishi.
His right hand was trembling.
The fingertips holding the picked-up vocabulary book quivered slightly. Minato hid that hand under his desk.
(Calm down.)
(It's okay.)
(I'm not the me from back then anymore.)
Minato repeated in his heart.
But the coldness in his fingertips didn't disappear.
At that moment, Minato felt a gaze from the seat next to him.
Kajiwara Akari.
A chestnut-colored short bob. Her bangs were cut straight above her eyebrows. Her single-lidded black eyes looked straight at Minato's face.
Akari said nothing.
She just let her gaze drop to Minato's right wrist for a moment.
Minato noticed that gaze and hid the wristband with his left hand.
(I don't want Akari to see.)
Minato faced forward.
Shiraishi was prompting Hazaki and Koyanagi to introduce themselves in front of the podium.
Now then, Hazaki-kun, Koyanagi-kun, please introduce yourselves.
Hazaki stepped forward.
Hazaki Ryo. Nice to meet you.
Short. That was all. Hazaki looked around the classroom and grinned.
Koyanagi said in a small voice.
I'm Koyanagi Atsushi. Pleased to meet you.
Koyanagi's voice was barely audible. But it was clear that from under his bangs, he was staring intently at Minato.
Fujii assigned seats to the three.
Shiraishi got a seat slightly toward the front from the center of the classroom. Hazaki got the very front by the window. Koyanagi got the back on the hallway side.
The three headed to their respective seats.
The moment Shiraishi passed by Minato's side.
Shiraishi's mouth twisted just slightly, visible only to Minato.
Let's get along again, Mizuhara-kun.
Minato didn't reply.
He couldn't.
When homeroom ended, the classroom was far noisier than usual.
A crowd had formed around the three transfer students.
"What did you do at your old school, Shiraishi-kun?"
"Club activities? Were you in anything?"
"Where in Kanagawa are you from?"
Shiraishi answered each one with a smile.
I played a little tennis. I wasn't very good though.
"Eh, tennis! Cool!"
Not really. Mizuhara-kun was way better in middle school.
Shiraishi casually brought up Minato's name.
Several classmates turned to look at Minato.
"What did you do in middle school, Mizuhara-kun?"
Minato made a smile.
This time, he managed it properly.
Nothing special. I read books, played games.
"Huh, unexpected."
The conversation ended there.
But Shiraishi was still watching Minato.
(He was waiting for me to make that smile.)
(He's enjoying watching how cornered I get.)
Minato opened his vocabulary book.
The words didn't enter his eyes.
During the ten minutes before first period began. Minato clenched and unclenched his right hand under his desk.
The coldness in his fingertips still remained.
During break.
When Minato returned from the restroom, Hazaki was standing near his desk.
Hazaki was leaning against Minato's desk, grinning.
Mizuhara, been doing well?
Hazaki's thick hand slapped Minato's shoulder with a thud.
Minato's body stiffened.
The moment his shoulder was touched, all the muscles in his body tensed up on their own. His breathing became shallow. The edges of his vision blurred white.
(Stop.)
(Don't touch me.)
Minato screamed in his heart.
But he couldn't voice it.
Hazaki saw Minato's reaction and narrowed his eyes with amusement.
Still a coward as always.
Hazaki said only that and returned to his own seat.
Minato felt as if the spot on his shoulder that had been slapped was burning.
(Disgusting.)
(That sensation is still there.)
Minato gripped the shoulder of his uniform tightly with his left hand.
On the other side of the classroom, Koyanagi was surrounded by several classmates, talking about something.
You know, Mizuhara was pretty famous in middle school.
"Eh, really?"
Well, a lot happened. I can't say the details though.
Koyanagi glanced at Minato from under his bangs.
"What do you mean, a lot?"
Maybe you shouldn't ask. Mizuhara will get angry.
Koyanagi twisted his mouth.
Minato pretended to open his textbook at his desk.
(It's started.)
(It's already started.)
Minato bent the edge of a page with his finger.
Lunch break.
Minato spread out the bento his mother had made at his desk.
He had no appetite.
But if he didn't eat, people around him would worry. Minato picked up his chopsticks and put a bite of tamagoyaki into his mouth.
He couldn't taste anything.
At the seat next to him, Akari was quietly eating her bento.
Akari said nothing to Minato.
Same as always.
But Minato found Akari's presence slightly heavy now.
(Akari is watching.)
(That face I made this morning, when it fell apart.)
(She might say something.)
Minato swallowed the tamagoyaki.
His throat wouldn't work properly.
Akari left her bento box lid open and set down her chopsticks.
Then she took out her smartphone.
Akari's fingers tapped the screen.
Minato casually glanced at Akari's hands.
Akari had opened the memo function on her phone.
There, several small lines of text were lined up.
"Shiraishi Yuma, Hazaki Ryo, Koyanagi Atsushi — transferred — July 1st"
"Hazaki slaps Minato's shoulder — Minato freezes"
Minato's eyes widened.
(Akari is keeping records?)
(Why?)
When Akari noticed Minato's gaze, she turned her phone screen face down.
Then, as if nothing had happened, she began eating her bento again.
Minato couldn't ask anything.
(What does Akari know?)
(How much has she seen through?)
Minato set down his chopsticks.
More than half the bento remained.
After school.
Minato was changing his shoes at the entrance hall.
(Let's go home quickly.)
(Today, I don't want to think about anything anymore.)
Minato retied the laces of his loafers.
At that moment, a voice came from behind him.
Mizuhara-kun, do you have a moment?
Minato's fingers stopped.
He turned around.
Shiraishi was standing there.
A refreshing smile. Neatly styled hair. The watch on his left wrist reflected the evening light.
Shiraishi glanced around as if confirming there were people nearby.
A lot happened in Kanagawa, but let's get along here.
Shiraishi extended his right hand.
Minato looked at that hand.
Shiraishi's right hand.
The hand that, for three years in middle school, hid Minato's textbooks, threw his gym clothes in the trash, and placed papers with "Die" written on them on his desk.
Minato's right hand didn't move.
His fingertips were cold as ice.
His arm was heavy as lead.
(There's no way I can shake his hand.)
(There's no way I can grip his hand.)
Minato stared at Shiraishi's hand, unable to move.
A few seconds of silence.
Shiraishi slowly withdrew his hand.
Then, in a slightly troubled voice, but at a volume clearly audible to those around them, he said.
Are you still angry?
A passing student stopped.
"What, what?"
"Mizuhara knows Shiraishi?"
"He said angry — what happened?"
A small crowd began to form around Minato.
Minato squeezed out his voice.
No, um, it's not like that—
The words wouldn't continue.
Shiraishi tilted his head.
Sorry, I won't force you. But since we ended up in the same class, I hope we can let bygones be bygones.
Shiraishi said that and smiled refreshingly.
Then he turned on his heel
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