Kushida Kikyo

Time rewound a little.

Inside the carriage, whispers filled with all sorts of emotions mingled with the steady hum of the engine. Shimiya Kuki leaned against the cold window, breathing evenly and deeply. His profound sleep shut him off from the noise around him. He was completely unaware of the small confrontation unfolding near the front of the carriage.

Near the doors stood an elderly woman with graying hair, stooped over a cane. She seemed to be struggling to stay on her feet. She was right beside an aisle seat conspicuously marked as a priority seat. Sitting in the seat that was supposed to be given up for those in need was an exceptionally striking boy.

He was burly, yet had dazzling golden hair that flowed like a waterfall to his shoulders. His face was so handsome it seemed almost otherworldly, and he lounged against the back of his seat as if nothing around him had anything to do with him. A girl stood between the burly boy and the elderly woman.

She had smooth, neatly kept brown hair and wore the uniform of Ikusei High School. Considering the school's unusual introduction, she was probably a new student like me. Since she was already wearing the uniform before even arriving on campus, she was most likely the kind of good student teachers adored.

The brown-haired girl furrowed her delicate brows slightly. Her fair face was set with firm resolve, and she stared straight at Takanoji in the priority seat. Her voice rang clearly over the surrounding whispers.

"Don't you think you should give up your seat?"

Her voice carried through the now-quiet front half of the carriage, naturally drawing the attention of those nearby. In an instant, many people turned their eyes toward the burly boy, their expressions curious, judgmental, or faintly approving.

"You, sitting over there—can't you see that the old lady is having a hard time?" the brown-haired girl said again, her tone sharper and openly accusatory. This time, her voice rang even more clearly through the carriage, pointedly addressing the burly boy and emphasizing the elderly woman's difficult situation.

But the burly boy's reaction surprised many. He didn't get angry, ignore her, or obediently do as she asked. Instead, his handsome face spread into a smile, tinged with amusement and condescension. He spoke leisurely as he elegantly crossed his legs again, looking even more relaxed and disdainful.

"What a crazy question, Pretty Girl."

He raised his chin slightly, adding with an air of innate superiority, "But, Girl, it's true that I'm a healthy young man, and standing wouldn't exactly be inconvenient for me. Still, it clearly takes more effort than sitting. I have no intention of doing something pointless that offers me no benefit. I, Takanoji Rokusuke, am destined to support the future of this country. Compared to this old lady, who can no longer contribute much to society, I, a young man, am obviously more important, aren't I? So isn't the answer obvious?"

His mocking reply, flippant attitude, and wildly arrogant declaration made the atmosphere instantly tense and awkward. The elderly woman grew even more uneasy, seeming to want to say something but not daring to. The other students looked shocked, incredulous, displeased, or simply entertained by the spectacle, and whispers rose again.

The brown-haired girl clearly hadn't expected him to react that way. Takanoji's contempt, his blatant utilitarianism, and his unyielding attitude left her at a loss. Her fair face flushed faintly with anger, and her chest rose and fell. She took a deep breath, about to argue her case again.

Just then, Takanoji's smile faded a little. His narrow eyes narrowed further, and he spoke again with the scorn of someone inspecting an ant. His voice clearly drowned out the words the brown-haired girl had yet to say.

"Oh? Having a hard time? I'm just stating the facts. This 'old lady' is indeed inconveniencing me. And," his gaze swept over the silent or restless students like a cold probe before settling on the brown-haired girl again, his voice thick with unmistakable sarcasm.

"Your presence, as a hypocrite, is what bothers me even more. You're thinking, 'Someone should give up a seat,' but you insist on pretending you care about others while standing on some moral high ground and lecturing people. And you lot," he said, pointing casually and contemptuously at the students who had lowered their heads or turned away, "you see an old person standing there and know, at least to some extent, that someone should give up a seat. But you stay silent because you don't want the trouble or because you're waiting for someone else to step up. This collective hypocrisy and cowardice are more disgusting than the old lady standing here."

His words were like ice blades dipped in poison, mercilessly cutting through the carriage's false calm and exposing the shameful thoughts many had kept hidden—their selfishness, cowardice, and hesitation. Several students he pointed at flushed with embarrassment and lowered their heads or looked away. Yet their bodies seemed nailed to their seats, and they were even less willing to move.

The brown-haired girl's face turned pale. Overwhelmed by hurt, the humiliation of being called out in public, and intense anger, she was momentarily at a loss for words. Her bright eyes even glistened with tears, but she bit her lower lip to keep her vulnerability from showing.

Takanoji watched the effect his words had with satisfaction, as if he had just finished some trivial task. He leaned lazily back into his seat, as though his shocking remarks had been no more than a speck of dust he'd brushed away.

But faced with Takanoji's naked humiliation and the deathly silence and collective shame around her, the violent rise and fall of the brown-haired girl's chest wasn't a sign of her breaking down. Her hurt and embarrassment didn't make her retreat. Instead, like wood tossed into a furnace, they ignited an even fiercer and more resilient side of her nature. She abruptly straightened her back. Her pure resolve to seek help for the elderly woman had not been extinguished; it burned even brighter and stronger.

She stopped addressing Takanoji, that immovable rock, and resolutely turned to the entire carriage. Raising her voice enough for everyone to hear, she spoke with a clear, melodious force that brooked no doubt and carried through every corner of the carriage.

"Sorry to interrupt everyone! Could I ask—would anyone be able to give this elderly woman their seat? It's hard for her to stand. Please!"

Her voice, unmistakably louder than the conversation before, carried a clear request and intense emotion. Like a boulder thrown into a still, dark pool, it sent powerful ripples through the carriage. It cut through the background noise, through the suffocating atmosphere Takanoji had created, and finally through the barrier of Shimiya Kuki's deep sleep.

Shimiya Kuki woke at the voice, raised in volume and full of intense emotion and force.

He slowly opened his eyes. Beneath his thick eyelashes, his dark eyes still held a trace of sleepiness, like a thin mist lingering over a deep pool. His face showed no displeasure at being woken and no flicker of emotion, only the calm of the deep sea.

He quietly let his eyes adjust to the carriage's dim light, affected by the blue sea beyond the windows, then calmly looked toward the source of the voice, near the doors at the front of the carriage.

He saw the brown-haired girl standing there, her face set with stubbornness after being humiliated and an even more urgent plea. Beside her stood the elderly woman, leaning on her cane and looking helpless, as well as the boy with the arrogant posture and dazzling golden hair who had introduced himself as "Takanoji Rokusuke." The air still held the tension of the confrontation, the cold mockery in Takanoji's words, and a deep, awkward silence.

Just then, someone rose smoothly from a window seat in the middle of the carriage.

Shimiya Kuki stood up and remained in the aisle, not moving from where he was. His movement was simple and natural. He looked calmly through the crowd toward the brown-haired girl and the elderly woman. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly through the quiet carriage.

"Please take my seat."

His voice was even, without the slightest inflection. He was simply stating a fact. He pointed to the window seat he had just vacated.

The elderly woman froze, seeming confused by the sudden kindness. The brown-haired girl reacted first. A bright, grateful smile bloomed across her face, warm as sunlight breaking through clouds, as if it could dispel the gloom Takanoji's words had left behind. "Ah! Thank you so much, classmate!"

She spoke with heartfelt gratitude, her voice clear and melodious, filled with relief and joy. She hurried to support the still-bewildered elderly woman, her movements gentle and respectful. "Grandma, this classmate is giving you his seat. Please, sit here! Watch your step."

With the girl's careful help, the elderly woman finally sat in the window seat. "Thank you, thank you, young man..." Once she was seated, she kept thanking Shimiya Kuki, who stood in the aisle. Her wrinkled face was full of gratitude and warmth.

Shimiya Kuki merely nodded slightly in acknowledgment, his expression still unruffled. He stood quietly beside his seat in the aisle, as if he had done nothing worth mentioning.

Takanoji looked over again, this time with a hint of amusement and even greater scrutiny. He sized up Shimiya Kuki, from his calm, expressionless face to his upright but slightly slender build. Insight gleamed in his narrow eyes, and his lips curled into their familiar mocking smile. "Oh? So there aren't only hypocrites and cowards here. But..." He drew out the word, his voice carrying clearly to Shimiya Kuki with the interest of someone dissecting an experiment.

"The essence of your giving up your seat is no different from theirs. You made the choice based on what you're 'supposed' to do under social conditioning. The only difference is that you overcame that tiny bit of 'trouble,' while they let it tie their hands. At their core, you're all puppets driven by a program. Interesting."

Takanoji's words were as sharp as ever, cutting straight to the motives behind people's actions and trying to reduce every good deed to mechanical obedience.

Shimiya Kuki calmly met Takanoji's scrutinizing gaze. He acknowledged that "social conditioning" and "overcoming the inconvenience" were objective factors. But reducing every action to being "a puppet driven by a program" seemed overly dogmatic and extreme.

Takanoji ignored the actual result of the action—the elderly woman had indeed gotten to rest. He also ignored the fact that different people made different choices when faced with the same "conditioning," and that the difference itself had meaning, even if Takanoji considered it insignificant or even laughable. Shimiya Kuki didn't argue; he simply looked away calmly. Takanoji's insight was sharp enough to warrant attention, but Shimiya Kuki couldn't fully agree with his absolute conclusions or his disregard for the complexity of human behavior.

"Classmate!" After helping the elderly woman settle in, the girl stood beside Shimiya Kuki. Her face beamed with a dazzling warmth, her bright eyes curving into lovely crescents, full of genuine gratitude and earnest enthusiasm. She bowed solemnly to Shimiya Kuki. "Thank you so much! I couldn't have done it without your help!" Her voice brimmed with energy, completely different from how tense she had been when facing Takanoji.

She straightened up, her face still bright with a sincere smile. Maintaining a polite distance, she asked in a gentle, friendly voice.

"Are you a new student at Ikusei High School too?"

Shimiya Kuki looked at the brown-haired girl standing before him and answered calmly.

"Yes."

After getting his confirmation, Kushida Kikyo's smile grew even warmer and more natural. She introduced herself openly and gracefully.

"My name is Kushida Kikyo. May I ask what your name is?"

"Shimiya Kuki." He gave his name calmly. His voice still held little inflection, as if he were stating a fact that had nothing to do with him.

"Then may I call you Shimiya-kun?" Kushida Kikyo stepped forward naturally, her face lit by a radiant, infectious smile. Her tone was expectant but still appropriately polite as she held out her hand to Shimiya Kuki.

"Since we'll be classmates, could we be friends?"

Shimiya Kuki looked at Kushida Kikyo's kind, hopeful eyes and the hand she had extended, a gesture of friendship. Her smile was remarkably warm and inviting, like the sun on a spring day.

"Mm." He answered simply, accepting her request. He extended his hand and briefly, politely shook the hand Kushida Kikyo had offered. Her palm was warm and soft. He felt neither deliberately distant nor especially close; he had simply responded calmly to a kind request and completed a basic social gesture.

"Great!" Kushida Kikyo's smile grew even brighter, as if making a friend were the happiest thing in the world. The gloom from earlier vanished. "I hope we'll get along at school, Shimiya-kun!"

"Mm." Shimiya Kuki answered faintly again. The director's assessment, the class assignments, this classmate named Kushida Kikyo, who kept up a polite and cheerful smile... A new environment, new people, and Takanoji Rokusuke's thought-provoking, sharp remarks. He calmly accepted the stream of information flowing in, like the deep sea taking in falling droplets.

After its brief disturbance, the carriage settled back into its steady rhythm. The blue sea beyond the windows continued to flow in silence. The outline of Ikusei High School appeared and disappeared in the distance at the end of the tunnel.