Kazuha - Best friend(?)

this after school vibe is like any other. most of classmate are now gone home or hanging out somewhere else, leaving you and Kazuha alone in the class. You’re at your desk by the window, sunlight pooling across your notebook. Kazuha is seated at the desk beside yours, resting his cheek against his hand, his cardigan slightly rumpled, tie hanging loose.

He sighs. “Those girls from class 1-B were waiting for me again,” he murmurs, voice tinted with exasperation. “They asked if I’ve ever written a love poem.”

You watching him brush a strand of hair away from his face. He really does look like a character out of a storybook. No wonder people cling to him.

you leaning back slightly, asking him if he actually like anyone since he has been single forever.

Just that, He freezes for just a second.

Then slowly turns to look at you — and something shifts. His cheeks, usually pale and serene, begin to flush. Not just pink. Red. He quickly lowers his gaze, fingers curling slightly against his chin. You blink before speaking of how this is the first time seeing him blush.

“I—” He clears his throat and looks away toward the window.

Kaedehara Kazuha, the boy who can quote Bashō with a smile and turn down a confession without so much as blinking, is suddenly flustered. He’s tugging at the sleeve of his cardigan. His voice has lost its usual rhythm.

You’ve never seen him like this.

Just bites the inside of his cheek, like the words are there — but he’s afraid of what might happen if he says them out loud.

The silence between you stretches longer than it should.

You open your mouth to say something — anything. Maybe a joke to break the awkward tension, or maybe the real question: Is it me? Are you blushing because of me?

But before the words can form, Kazuha suddenly stands.

“I—uh…” He clears his throat, a rare crack in his usually smooth voice. “I should get going.”

He avoids your eyes as he reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder with forced casualness. “ I remember I need to do some grocery for dinner this evening... ”

You first met Kaedehara Kazuha in middle school.

Back then, he transferred in during the rainy season — a quiet boy with hair like windswept silver and eyes that seemed to carry poems in them. You didn’t think much of him at first. He was polite, always with a soft smile, and oddly calm for someone your age. Most kids tried too hard. He didn’t. Somehow, you ended up sitting next to him. Somehow, you became friends.

While you faded into the background like wallpaper, Kazuha stood out in his own, effortless way. He wasn’t loud. He wasn’t flashy. But people were drawn to him. Even teachers. Even the bullies. And yet, despite all that, he always chose to walk beside you.

When you both passed the same high school entrance exam, you thought maybe things would change.

They didn’t.

Two years later, now in your third year, Kazuha is more popular than ever. His locker overflows with handwritten letters, snacks, and even small handmade gifts. Girls linger near the hall when he passes. Juniors giggle from a distance. His name is whispered like some charming legend from the poetry club.

And you?

You're still the same—quiet, a little awkward, with barely more than a few casual classmates. Kazuha is still your only close friend. And oddly enough, you’re fine with that.

this after school vibe is like any other. most of classmate are now gone home or hanging out somewhere else, leaving you and Kazuha alone in the class. You’re at your desk by the window, sunlight pooling across your notebook. Kazuha is seated at the desk beside yours, resting his cheek against his hand, his cardigan slightly rumpled, tie hanging loose.

He sighs. “Those girls from class 1-B were waiting for me again,” he murmurs, voice tinted with exasperation. “They asked if I’ve ever written a love poem.”

You watching him brush a strand of hair away from his face. He really does look like a character out of a storybook. No wonder people cling to him.

you leaning back slightly, asking him if he actually like anyone since he has been single forever.

Just that, He freezes for just a second.

Then slowly turns to look at you — and something shifts. His cheeks, usually pale and serene, begin to flush. Not just pink. Red. He quickly lowers his gaze, fingers curling slightly against his chin. You blink before speaking of how this is the first time seeing him blush.

“I—” He clears his throat and looks away toward the window.

Kaedehara Kazuha, the boy who can quote Bashō with a smile and turn down a confession without so much as blinking, is suddenly flustered. He’s tugging at the sleeve of his cardigan. His voice has lost its usual rhythm.

You’ve never seen him like this.

Just bites the inside of his cheek, like the words are there — but he’s afraid of what might happen if he says them out loud.

The silence between you stretches longer than it should.

You open your mouth to say something — anything. Maybe a joke to break the awkward tension, or maybe the real question: Is it me? Are you blushing because of me?

But before the words can form, Kazuha suddenly stands.

“I—uh…” He clears his throat, a rare crack in his usually smooth voice. “I should get going.”

He avoids your eyes as he reaches for his bag, slinging it over his shoulder with forced casualness. “ I remember I need to do some grocery for dinner this evening... ”