The weeks at Yamato High School passed quickly for Hiroshi Nakamura. Spring turned into early summer, and the air grew warm and humid. Cherry blossoms were replaced by green leaves, and the school courtyard buzzed with energy. Hiroshi had settled into Class 1-A, finding a rhythm in his new life. He wasn’t the shy boy standing nervously at the school gates anymore, though he still felt quiet compared to others.
Kenji, the loud and cheerful boy from the first day, had become Hiroshi’s closest friend. They sat together in class, ate lunch together, and walked home most days. Kenji loved talking about soccer, music, and his big plans for the future. “I’m gonna be a pro soccer player,” he’d say, kicking an imaginary ball. Hiroshi would smile and nod, happy to listen. Kenji’s energy made him feel braver, like he could try new things.
Another friend was Aiko, the serious girl with glasses from their class. At first, Hiroshi thought she was too focused on studying to care about friends. But one day, when he forgot his math homework, Aiko lent him her notes. “Don’t make it a habit,” she said, pushing her glasses up, but her small smile showed she didn’t mind. After that, they started talking more. Aiko loved history and could talk for hours about old samurai stories. Hiroshi found her passion interesting, even if he didn’t always understand.
Then there was Yumi, the girl who doodled in her notebook during class. She joined their lunch group after Kenji invited her. Yumi was quiet like Hiroshi, but her sense of humor surprised him. Once, when Kenji spilled juice on his shirt, Yumi drew a cartoon of him as a “juice monster” and passed it around. Everyone laughed, and Hiroshi felt a warmth in their group. These were his people, he thought—friends who made him feel like he belonged.
Hiroshi had joined the art club, too. Every Tuesday and Thursday, he went to the club room, where paints and canvases lined the shelves. The club leader, Sana, the girl with paint-splattered hands from the club fair, was kind and encouraging. “Your sketches are amazing, Hiroshi!” she’d say, looking at his drawings of landscapes and city scenes. Hiroshi blushed at the praise but kept working. The art club felt like a safe place, where he could be himself without worrying about saying the right thing.
One day in late June, as the school prepared for midterms, Hiroshi noticed a new face in the art club. Her name was Rika, a second-year student with short hair and a bright laugh. She wasn’t in the club but had come to help with a mural for the school festival. Rika was confident, always joking with Sana and the other members. When she saw Hiroshi’s sketchbook, she leaned over his shoulder. “Wow, you drew this?” she asked, pointing to a detailed drawing of the school courtyard. “You’re really good!” Hiroshi’s face turned red. “It’s just… practice,” he mumbled. “Don’t be so modest!” Rika said, grinning. “You’ve got talent. Hey, you should help with the mural. We need someone like you.” Hiroshi wasn’t sure how to respond. Rika’s energy was overwhelming, but her interest made him feel noticed. Over the next few weeks, she often stopped by the art club, asking Hiroshi about his drawings or telling funny stories about her classes. Once, she brought him a can of soda from the vending machine. “For the artist,” she said with a wink. Hiroshi didn’t know what to make of it. Was she just being friendly? He wasn’t used to attention like that.
Meanwhile, Hiroshi couldn’t stop thinking about the girl from the literature club. He hadn’t spoken to her since the club fair, but he saw her sometimes in the hallways or at lunch. Her name was Emi, he’d learned from Kenji, who seemed to know everyone. Emi was always with her friends, laughing or reading a book. Hiroshi wanted to talk to her but didn’t know how. What would he even say? He wasn’t like Kenji, who could start a conversation with anyone.
One afternoon, the art club and literature club worked together on festival preparations. Hiroshi was painting a poster when Emi walked in, carrying a stack of books. His heart skipped a beat. She smiled at Sana and started talking about a display for the festival. Hiroshi tried to focus on his brushstrokes, but he kept glancing at her. Rika noticed and nudged him. “Got a crush, huh?” she teased, her voice low. “No!” Hiroshi said too quickly, his face burning. Rika laughed but didn’t push further.
As the summer break approached, the school was alive with excitement. The festival was coming, and everyone was busy. Hiroshi’s friends were all involved—Kenji was helping the soccer club with a game booth, Aiko was organizing a history quiz, and Yumi was designing decorations. Hiroshi felt proud to be part of it, even if he was nervous about the mural being shown to the whole school.
The day before the break, Rika found Hiroshi in the art room, finishing a section of the mural. “You’re coming to the festival, right?” she asked, leaning against a table. “Yeah, I think so,” Hiroshi said, cleaning his paintbrush. “Good. I’ll look for you,” she said, smiling. “Maybe we can hang out.” Hiroshi nodded, unsure what to say. Rika’s attention was nice, but it confused him. His thoughts kept drifting to Emi—her quiet smile, the way she held her books like they were treasures. He wondered if he’d ever get the courage to talk to her.
That evening, walking home with Kenji, Aiko, and Yumi, Hiroshi looked at the orange sky. Summer was almost here, and with it, new possibilities. He felt grateful for his friends, for the art club, for the small moments that made high school feel special. But deep down, he hoped the festival would bring him closer to Emi, even if just for a moment.