Chapter 2: Loner
Csepel continued walking toward school, his pace unhurried, the sound of his shoes tapping rhythmically against the pavement.
It was a nice morning, really. The sky was blue, a few clouds drifted lazily overhead, and the wind brushed against his face with just enough coolness to remind him that spring was still holding on.
But none of that mattered much to him.
He wasn't particularly excited to go to school. Not because he hated it—but because, to be honest, it was just… there. Something he had to do. A place he had to go.
He didn't have any friends. Not really.
It wasn't that anyone bullied him. People were nice enough. They said "good morning," or nodded if they bumped into him in the hallway. But no one really talked to him. No one waited for him after class. No one asked him to eat lunch together or invited him to hang out after school.
He stood out a little too much, maybe.
His light brown hair, his fair skin, and especially those green eyes—people noticed him, yes, but from a distance. Csepel had lived in Japan for twelve years now, but he was still clearly not Japanese. He was foreign. Different. And different made people hesitate.
"...Well, I guess that's fine," he murmured to himself, adjusting the strap on his bag.
Finally, he reached the school gates. Students were already gathered in clusters—talking, laughing, showing each other their phones or arguing about anime or clubs.
Csepel slipped past them like a shadow.
No one called out to him.
He was used to that.
The school building stood tall, clean and modern. Inside, the floors were polished, and the classrooms lined up neatly down the halls like pieces of a puzzle that had never included him.
He climbed the stairs to the first-year wing and walked toward his classroom: 1-1.
He stopped at the door.
The nameplate read exactly that: Class 1-1.
He took a quiet breath, then slid the door open and stepped inside.
"Ah, good morning," a girl near the window said politely.
"Morning," he replied, just as politely.
And that was the end of their conversation.
He walked to his seat—middle row, first seat near the front. A perfect location for someone who neither wanted attention nor intended to sleep through class.
He pulled out his notebook and stared out the window for a moment. The cherry trees in the courtyard were still clinging to a few blossoms, though most had already fallen.
He liked watching them flutter down when the wind blew.
His classmates trickled in one by one, chatting with each other, laughing about something that happened on the train, or comparing weekend plans.
Csepel listened, but only passively.
He knew most of their names—he'd memorized them out of necessity—but they weren't people he'd call friends. Not even acquaintances.
They didn't dislike him. They just… didn't include him.
It had always been like that.
Ever since elementary school.
Maybe it was his quiet nature. Maybe it was his different looks. Or maybe it was the way he seemed like he didn't need anyone.
Even if that wasn't true.
He watched a group of boys joking in the back corner. One of them had a banana and was pretending it was a phone. The others burst into laughter.
He smiled faintly. It looked fun.
But he didn't belong there.
My school life is so boring, he thought.
So boring, in fact, that he often caught himself thinking something ridiculous:
That maybe… just maybe… being flirted with by his obsessive little sister was better than this.
He immediately shook the thought out of his head.
"No, that's wrong," he muttered under his breath.
Komari was… a handful.
She was sweet, sure. Cute, even. She took care of him, cooked for him, always smiled when he came home. But her love was too intense. Too direct.
It made him uncomfortable.
And yet…
He couldn't bring himself to push her away completely.
Because somewhere in his heart, he knew—if one day Komari stopped loving him… if she found someone else… someone normal, a guy her age, someone not her own brother—
Then maybe…
He'd feel relieved.
No—more than that.
He'd be happy for her.
She deserved to be happy. Deserved to have a normal teenage life, full of first crushes, embarrassing texts, and that warm fluttery feeling of falling for someone new.
Not chasing after her brother, who couldn't return her feelings.
Csepel let out a soft sigh and rested his chin on his hand.
"Maybe one day," he said quietly.
Class began, the teacher walking in and greeting them all with a tired but friendly voice. Students shuffled in their seats, opening books and pretending to pay attention.
Csepel did the same.
The day dragged on in its usual rhythm—math, history, break, Japanese, then lunch.
At lunch, he stayed at his desk, pulled out his homemade bento, and quietly ate alone. He didn't mind. He liked Komari's cooking.
Across the room, the other students grouped up, pulled desks together, traded snacks.
Nobody invited him.
No one even glanced in his direction.
It was just another day.
And for now, that was okay.
At least… that's what he told himself.
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To be continued…
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