Chapter 1.5: The Day the Madonna Noticed the Background Guy
Yumi Sato did not wake up on her first day at Toka Academy planning to develop a quiet obsession with some random second-year. She did wake up hoping she wouldn’t trip in front of the entire freshman class and become known as “That Girl Who Faceplanted Like Jennifer Lawrence at the Oscars on Day One.”
The universe, as usual, had other ideas.
It started with her getting lost.
Which, in her defense, was not her fault. Toka Academy had the architectural logic of a drunk spider. After the opening ceremony, in an effort to find her homeroom, she’d followed three different signs, two streams of students, and one very confident-looking girl who turned out to be heading to the nurse’s office.
Now she was stranded on a stairwell landing, squinting at a confusing map like it had personally wronged her ancestors.
“You’re going the wrong way.”
The voice was calm, almost lazy.
“I — am not,” Yumi said automatically.
She turned. A second-year boy stood a couple steps down, one hand on the railing. Average build, neat dark hair, not a bad-looking face, but the kind that blended into the background unless you were actually paying attention. He was looking at her with mild concern–or maybe mild amusement. It was hard to tell. His expression was the human equivalent of a polite shrug.
“First-year students are on the east side,” he said, pointing vaguely. “Next staircase over. The one that doesn’t smell like old gym socks.”
“Oh. Oh! Thanks!” Yumi blinked, then let out a small laugh. “I was about two minutes from declaring war on the building.”
He gave a tiny nod and continued on his way without waiting for more thanks or trying to turn it into a conversation. Just help, then gone.
Yumi watched him disappear around the corner for half a second longer than necessary.
Huh. Weird… No follow-up? And he didn’t even check me out. Should I be offended? Nah, it was nice of him to help. Actually, it’s kinda refreshing!
One afternoon in the courtyard, she saw him again helping a loud, energetic friend carry a ridiculously heavy bag of soccer gear. “Seriously, dumbass, you’re gonna throw your back out before the first game,” he said casually, taking the heavier end without making a big deal about it. The bigger guy laughed and punched his shoulder. Stairwell boy just shrugged it off with an easy grin and kept walking, like helping his dramatic friend was the most normal thing in the world.
Another time, during lunch a couple weeks later, a girl accidentally bumped into someone and sent her drink flying — straight onto the second-year’s uniform.
The girl with mousy brown hair in a frizzy bun froze in her tracks, face turning bright red, clearly on the verge of tears.
Before the awkward silence could stretch, the boy looked down at the growing stain on his shirt, then back at her.
“Shit, my bad,” he said casually, loud enough for bystanders to hear, already grabbing napkins. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Sorry about that.”
The girl blinked. “W-wait, no, that was totally m—”
“Nah, definitely my fault,” he insisted with an easy shrug, crouching down to help mop up the floor. “I move like a distracted giraffe until I’ve had my daily injection of caffeine.”
He worked quickly, chatting lightly with the flustered girl until she was laughing instead of panicking. Once the mess was mostly gone, he gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and headed back to his table like nothing had happened.
Yumi watched from across the room, chin resting on her hand.
He just took the blame… so she wouldn’t feel like an idiot. Damn, that’s actually kind of smooth.
Then there was the day near the shoe lockers after school, a few weeks into the term. A girl approached the quiet second-year looking visibly upset about something. Yumi couldn’t hear the conversation, but she saw him lead her to a quiet corner — giving the girl his full, calm attention. He didn’t interrupt or try to fix it dramatically. He just listened.
When she finished, he said something short and quiet. The girl’s shoulders visibly relaxed. She thanked him and walked away looking steadier.
He didn’t call after her. Didn’t even mention it when his classmates started teasing and asking him about the girl. He just brushed them off, letting the moment stay private and went back to tying his own shoes.
Yumi exhaled slowly. Wow.
One day, after weeks of these small moments, Yumi’s curiosity finally got the better of her. She approached two nearby second-year girls who were chatting while changing shoes one afternoon.
“Um… excuse me,” Yumi said, trying (and failing) to sound casual. “Do you know the name of that quiet second-year guy? Has short, dark hair, on the taller side, kind of keeps to himself but always seems to be helping someone without making it a big deal?”
One of the girls shrugged and said, “Not sure.”
The other girl glanced over. “Oh, you must mean Kenji Tanaka.”
Yumi’s ears perked up. Kenji. Got it.
“Oh yeah! Tanaka-san! That’s gotta be him,” the other girl said with a casual smile. “He has a way of flying under the radar. He’s pretty chill. Reliable too, but he obviously stays out of the spotlight on purpose. If someone needs help he’s there, but he avoids drama like the plague.”
The first girl nodded. “He hates gossip too. Likes his own privacy and respects others’.”
Yumi hesitated, cheeks warming a little. “Huh. He seems… nice.”
The second girl grinned lightly. “He is. Like, suspiciously decent for a guy in this school. Why do you ask anyway?”
The first girl laughed, “You interested? I mean he IS kind of cute. And a few girls have gone on dates with him. But be warned. He told my best friend he doesn’t do committed relationships. Says he’s not on the market. Too bad. She says he’s actually low-key great at kissing!”
The other girl shook her head. “Shut up! Anyway, makes him pretty low-maintenance, I guess. So… why do you want to know about Tanaka-san?” turning to Yumi.
“Oh um, I’m not — I was just — he helped me earlier…”
The two girls watched for a second, then exchanged another look.
“…You’re totally going to talk to him, aren’t you?” Girl #1 said.
“I am not!” Yumi said, way too fast.
“Mhm.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Got it.”
Yumi grabbed her shoes, dignity barely intact, and thanked them politely, heart beating a little faster for reasons she didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Good luck!” Girl #2 called after her, clearly delighted.
“I DON’T NEED LUCK!”
Yumi stepped outside into the late afternoon air and exhaled deeply.
Kind. Helpful. Trustworthy. Discreet. Deliberately stays out of the spotlight.
And apparently a talented kisser who refused to do steady dating?
A small, determined (and slightly mischievous) smile formed on her lips as she stepped out of the building into the late afternoon sunlight.
If I’m going to ask anyone for kissing lessons… it has to be Kenji Tanaka.
She adjusted her ponytail, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement.
Tomorrow I’ll definitely talk to him…
…Probably.
…Maybe.
She groaned softly and covered her face.
