The boy approached him with heavy steps and laughed mockingly.

  Boy: “I'm warning you—don’t get near Mio or try to hurt her. This is a warning.”

  Kotaro raised an eyebrow and asked coolly:

  Ozawa: “And if I do, what will you do?”

  The boy laughed with his friends and said in a defiant tone:

  Boy: “I'll show you what I'll do!”

  Before he could finish his sentence, he punched Kotaro in the stomach, causing him to stumble back in pain. Then he added:

  Boy: “That’s what I’ll do—and worse if you go near her again!”

  The boy and his group turned and walked confidently toward the school gate, laughing.

  While Kotaro held his stomach and watched them with a cold expression, he whispered to himself with a sarcastic smile:

  Ozawa: “Hmm... So you're part of Mio's fan club, thinking she might love you one day. What fools.”

  Then he chuckled quietly and said aloud:

  Ozawa: “I don’t care about you… or her… you filthy bastards.”

  ---

  The next day, during lunch break, Kotaro was sitting alone as usual in the schoolyard, leaning against the trunk of a large tree. A boy he didn't know approached him, carrying a simple lunch and a light smile.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Boy: “Mind if I sit here?”

  Kotaro slowly looked up at him, expressionless. He didn’t speak but gave a small nod, signaling his approval.

  The boy sat down beside him, opened his lunchbox quietly, and after a brief silence, spoke in a friendly tone:

  Boy: “I’m Hiroto. Just transferred here recently. I’ve seen you sit here almost every day, so I thought… why not get to know you?”

  Kotaro stared at him for a moment before replying in a low voice:

  Kotaro: “Why would you want to know me?”

  Hiroto chuckled and said:

  Hiroto: “I don’t know. Maybe because you seem interesting? Or maybe just because I hate eating alone.”

  Kotaro couldn’t help but look at him with mild confusion. He wasn’t used to this kind of direct interaction. After a moment of silence, Hiroto suddenly asked:

  Hiroto: “What’s your name?”

  Kotaro: “Ozawa Kotaro.”

  Hiroto smiled and held out his hand:

  Hiroto: “Nice to meet you, Kotaro-kun!”

  Kotaro looked at the hand hesitantly, then ignored it. But Hiroto didn’t seem bothered—instead, he laughed and said:

  Hiroto: “Haha, you’re really something.”

  After laughing lightly at Kotaro’s reaction, Hiroto went back to eating quietly. He didn’t try to force conversation or interaction—he just stayed beside him, as if the silence wasn’t uncomfortable at all.

  Kotaro, who wasn’t used to this kind of interaction, found himself thinking about this boy. He didn’t seem annoyingly curious, and he wasn’t trying to make him talk. That made him... tolerable, at least.

  After a while, Hiroto finished his meal, wiped his mouth with a napkin, then turned to Kotaro and said:

  Hiroto: “Oh right, since you always sit here alone, do you have any friends at school?”

  Kotaro glanced at him, then turned his gaze back to the distance without answering.

  Hiroto (laughing): “Thought so. But it’s fine—you have one now.”

  Kotaro didn’t respond, but he felt slightly irritated. How could this guy decide they were friends just like that?

  Kotaro (with a light sigh): “I never said I needed a friend.”

  Hiroto (smiling): “Maybe. But sometimes, you don’t have to say it to have one.”

  Kotaro didn’t know how to respond, so he chose silence.

  The school bell rang, signaling the end of the break. Hiroto stood up and gently patted Kotaro’s shoulder as he said:

  Hiroto: “Alright then, see you later, Kotaro-kun.”

  Kotaro watched him walk toward the school building, then exhaled softly and thought:

  “He’s weird… but not annoying.”

  In the following days, Hiroto started sitting with Kotaro almost every lunch break. He never forced his presence or tried to intrude on Kotaro’s life. He just talked about random things—weather, exams, silly stories from his day.

  Kotaro never responded with more than short sentences or nods, but he didn’t ask him to leave either. Over time, he got used to having him around, as if another person’s presence wasn’t as unpleasant as he had thought.

  One day, while they were sitting as usual under the tree, Hiroto noticed faint bruises on Kotaro’s hand.

  Hiroto (seriously): “Those bruises… you got them from those jerks who cornered you last week, didn’t you?”

  Kotaro looked at him but didn’t reply, which made Hiroto sigh.

  Hiroto: “Why didn’t you defend yourself? I know you could’ve.”

  Kotaro said nothing. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he hadn’t expected someone to notice so quickly.

  Hiroto (gazing at the horizon): “You know, sometimes ignoring people like them isn’t the best solution…”

  Kotaro looked at him for a moment, then lowered his gaze again. He didn’t want to admit it, but Hiroto’s words struck something inside him.

  This was the beginning of a connection Kotaro never expected—a person who chose to stay, even without being asked.