Two of Hearts || Suguru Niragi

o n e

School uniforms often bothered me. Never in the sense of having to wear them, because I sometimes found myself enjoying the style on my body. Nor was it in the sense of looking the same as everyone; I found the synonymous nature of them pleasant. Rather, it was how, after being out of school for two years, the sight of a student wearing one made me long to return to those days.

School was always a pleasant experience for me, though I did appreciate the freedom graduating brought. I had a few friends that made living worth it, and I loved learning new subjects, as well as making memories. In a way, school was freer than the real world; there was no pressure aside from keeping good grades. Outside, I had societal pressures that I never experienced within.

I had one friend in school that felt the opposite, and he was, possibly, my closest friend I ever had. Suguru Niragi, a cowering student who often got bullied for his lack of confidence to stand up to the bullies. I had no idea he existed until one day he walked past me with a bloodied nose, and I handed him a tissue. He thanked me and that was that.

But every day after, I made sure I found him after school, usually lingering by the stairs until he walked out. I walked up to him and looped my arm through his, walking him home. He was confused by my politeness, but grateful for it. The bullies eventually left him alone once they saw me with him every day, realizing they'd rarely find us apart. We became inseparable for years.

That was our third to last year of school. For those entire three years, Niragi became my everything. I spent every second of my days with him; either at my house in my room or his house in his room, but sometimes we'd go to a coffee shop.

I currently sat in the coffee shop we had first gone to. It was small, somehow earning a place smack dab in Tokyo a block away from the main area. My feet tapped against the tile below as my noodles cooled off. There was a student up at the register, uniform crisp. From the back, he looked like Niragi, and it made me do a double take.

I missed him. He was my first for a lot of things: first kiss, first boyfriend, first person I slept with.

It happened one day after school. After staying late to speak with a teacher, going over an essay, I exited down the stairs where Niragi was absent. He had told me he'd wait for me there. At first, I assumed maybe something came up — maybe his mom asked him to come home, or he had to run back into school and use the restroom. Either way, I walked down the stairs and began walking towards the sidewalk when I saw him. He was sat by the tree in the front of the yard, a trickle of blood coming down his nose and lip.

"Oh, my god," I said as I rushed towards him, squatting down to his level. "What happened? Did those guys get to you?"

He looked down away from me but made no effort to push my hand away. "Yeah. It's no big deal, though, I'm fine. Did you do okay on your essay?"

"Don't change the subject on me," I reprimanded as I slung my backpack off to grab a tissue. He laughed at me, then tilted his head back to allow me to wipe his nose. "Hold that. We're gonna go to my house real quick." Niragi reluctantly stood and I wrapped my arm around his, slightly pulling him to my apartment.

My parents weren't home; perhaps, that was fate giving us the push we needed. We entered the small living area and I drug him to my bedroom, pushing him to sit on my bed before I left to grab the first aid kit. It didn't have much that could help, but I knew I had something better than a tissue.

Returning, I sat next to him on the bed and grabbed the tissue from his hand. The blood had stopped and crusted over his lips. Undoing an alcohol pad, I grabbed one side of his face with one hand and used the other to wipe his lips off. "There you go, good as new!"