company

you're kind of a loner.

you don't mind, really. you've always been a quiet kid. people have learned to let you be - [l/n] just likes to be left alone, they say - and you never felt like correcting them.

solitude isn't your best friend or anything, but it's nice company. when you're a preteen stuck in a building full of other preteens going through puberty and all the other unpleasant surprises that come with it, it's really the best you can get. besides, you've come to like your role as an onlooker. you've witnessed many a breakup, catfight, and fistfight - much more than you'd expect from middle schoolers, really - and you've always been happy that you were never involved. it was almost like reading a book or watching an anime. you can feel for the characters and get as invested as you want, but at the end of the day, you're not a part of it.

however, there's been a recent development that caught your interest. a boy from your class - narukami, murasaki? something like that - was known for being a quick learner. almost extraordinarily so, actually. he's gone from a total novice to a pro within weeks in a variety of things, from academics to sports to video games. you've even heard that he could describe the entire plot of naruto, 72 volumes and all, in extreme detail.

as expected, that made him quite popular. it wasn't uncommon for people to pick him first during pe, or ask to borrow his notes. you even overheard some of your classmates discussing plans for love confessions, though that presumably never panned out.

that's why it was easy to notice that popularity fade. little by little, the number of kids crowded around his desk in the morning shrunk until he was by himself.

one conversation managed to stand out to you.

"hey, you wanna play some basketball today? i asked some other guys too, and we only need one more person."

"sure, but... why are you asking me? don't you usually play with murakami?"

"yeah, but he's no fun to play with anymore. that's not important though, let's go."

murakami, as you learned his name was, sat across the room. he shouldn't have been able to hear the two boys as he packed up his stuff, but you felt bad for him anyway.

you didn't know why you cared about his predicament especially. because he seems nice? because you feel bad? you'll never talk to him anyway, so why worry?

even with all the drama surrounding you, your life carried on as it always did. every day, you woke up, ate your breakfast, rode to school, and went through your morning classes without any disturbances. you've been making an effort to stop staring at the back of murakami's head, and it hasn't worked yet, but you think you just need some time (maybe after another week).

so, as you headed towards your usual lunch spot, you had no reason to believe that there would be anyone else there. everyone preferred to hang out in the courtyard or their classroom during lunch. there were a few stragglers towards the beginning of the year, but they all ended up going where everyone else went. now, no one goes to the school rooftop.

no one except you.

and someone else, apparently.

murakami is sitting on the floor, his back to the fence that lines the perimeter of the rooftop. he doesn't notice you at first, as he seems to be more focused on eating his tonkatsu. that quickly changes when the door behind you closes itself with a loud creak.

the two of you stare at each other for a moment. you feel your hands sweat around the hard plastic of your bento box.

surprisingly, you find the courage to speak first. "so, uh," your hands are shaking. "what... are you doing here?"