Chapter Text
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Chapter One — A Suitcase Full of Dreams
The airport was enormous.
So enormous, in fact, that Mitsumi Iwakura had somehow circled the same vending machine three times and still hadn’t found the bus terminal. “Okay,” she whispered to herself, squinting at her wrinkled paper map, “I got off the plane… I turned left at the big plastic crab… so I should be—oh no, I’m by the crab again?!” She stopped walking. Her suitcase, overstuffed and clunky, groaned beside her like it had lost the will to go on. It’s okay, Mitsumi, she told herself. This is part of growing up. Getting lost in the city is a learning opportunity!
Her heart thumped wildly against her chest—part nerves, part excitement. She adjusted her coat, then her hair, then her coat again, as if somehow that would make her blend in better with the sleek travelers passing by. She stood on tiptoe and glanced around the bustling terminal. Everything here was shiny. Polished. Fast. Everyone had places to go, voices to call, trains to catch. Meanwhile, her phone had 9% battery, and she’d brought two bentos in case of emergency hunger. (One was already gone.)
Just as she was about to accept her fate as a permanent airport resident, someone stopped beside her. “Need help?” She blinked up. A boy stood there with his hands in his coat pockets. Tall, composed, effortlessly put together. He had light blonde hair that looked like it had been tousled just enough to seem stylish but not careless. And his eyes—was it possible for eyes to look both tired and kind at the same time? “I, um, I think I missed the shuttle to Hakuryo,” she said, holding up her map, which promptly folded in on itself like origami.
“You go to Hakuryo Academy?” She nodded. “First-year. Just got the scholarship letter last month.” He tilted his head. “Impressive.” Mitsumi waved her hands in front of her face. “No, no! It was mostly luck! I mean, I studied a lot, but that’s normal, right? Also I think maybe they didn’t have a lot of applicants from Ishikawa Prefecture this year…” The boy chuckled. “I’m heading there too. Wanna tag along?” Her eyes lit up like someone had told her the local train served free cake. “Really?! Yes! Thank you!” She bowed so fast her hair flopped into her face. “I’m Iwakura Mitsumi!” “Shima Sousuke,” he said, and gestured casually. “Come on. We’ll catch the next train out.”
They made their way through the terminal, and every few steps, Mitsumi would pause to examine something—an interesting sign, the brightness of the floors, a strange shape in the windows. Her eyes were wide, and her enthusiasm, while endearing, was certainly noticeable. It was almost like she was on a field trip, every little detail a discovery.
“Do you always get so excited about the little things?” Shima asked, his voice low but amused as he watched her bounce along beside him. “Oh, yeah! I mean—look at this place!” She gestured to the high ceilings, the smooth floors, the people bustling about. “It’s like another world compared to my hometown.” “What’s your hometown like?” Mitsumi’s eyes softened as she glanced over at him, thinking. “I’m from a small town in Ishikawa Prefecture. You probably wouldn’t know it—it’s way out in the country. Not a lot of people go there unless they’re looking for that perfect spot for rice fields and nice views.”
Shima raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Sounds like it’s peaceful.” “It is! You can hear the wind and the birds. The river is nice, too,” Mitsumi said, her voice lifting with fondness. “I’m actually kind of nervous about living in a big city. It’s so… loud. Everyone moves so quickly here, and I’m just me.” She laughed a little, shaking her head. “I’m worried I’ll get in the way.” “You’ll be fine,” Shima said, his tone surprisingly reassuring. “Besides, it sounds like you’re used to standing out. Getting lost in crowds might be a good change of pace.”
Mitsumi’s face flushed slightly, her eyes widening. “Oh no, I don’t mean to be loud! I just get… excited. Is it annoying?” He shrugged, glancing over at her. “It’s fine. You’re genuine. Most people are so focused on looking cool or acting mysterious. It’s nice to meet someone who’s just… being themselves. Mitsumi blinked at him, a little confused. “But, I mean… you’re the one who looks so cool. You’re so calm and collected.” Shima smirked, looking at the floor. “It’s just practice.” “Practice?” she asked. “I’m good at hiding things. Not everyone needs to know what’s on my mind.”
Mitsumi nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, I see! I guess I’m still learning how to be calm like that.” She fiddled with the strap of her suitcase, feeling a bit more self-conscious. “Yeah, you’ve got a lot of energy, huh?” Shima observed, amusement in his voice. “I try to keep it in check! But sometimes I just… explode.” She smiled sheepishly, and the next moment, she was bouncing on her feet, staring at the train tracks as the train they were supposed to board finally arrived. “There it is! That’s our train, right?” Shima nodded. “Yep. Let’s go.”
On the train, Mitsumi’s excitement grew again. The city had faded behind them, and now the countryside stretched out like a green carpet beneath the setting sun. Mitsumi pressed her face to the glass, looking out at the rice fields and distant mountains.
“It’s more peaceful than I thought here,” she murmured, almost as if talking to herself. “I almost forgot how much I missed the feeling of space.” “Pretty different from Tokyo, right?” Shima said, his voice gentle. “Yeah…” Mitsumi said. “I didn’t realize how big Tokyo was until I was on the plane. Everything felt so… far away. But this…” She gestured to the landscape, smiling. “This feels like home, even though I’m in a new place.”
“You’ll get used to it,” he said, though there was a flicker of something in his expression—something thoughtful, as though he was considering more than just the scenery.
The train hummed along the tracks, cutting through the landscape like a thread stitching together countryside and city. Mitsumi sat stiffly in her seat, suitcase between her knees, eyes wide as she watched fields roll past the window. Her lips pressed into a line of concentration, though her fingers twitched with quiet excitement.
Shima leaned against the opposite window, one earbud in, flipping through a small notebook—half sketches, half scribbled dialogue. Every now and then, his eyes flicked over to Mitsumi, who was practically bouncing in her seat. “Iwakura-san,” he said suddenly, “you’ve been mouthing words for five minutes. Practicing your student council speech already?” She jolted. “Ah! Was I doing it out loud? Oh no!” She covered her face. “I didn’t mean to bother you!”
“You’re fine,” he chuckled. “Just figured you were either rehearsing something or plotting world domination.” “No, no, I’m just—well, kind of both?” she said brightly, laughing at herself. “I want to leave a good impression! It’s my first time living away from home, and I don’t want to mess it up. Also, I think I might’ve brought too much luggage. What if I can’t carry it all to the dorms—” Shima reached over and tapped her suitcase with his foot. “You’ll be fine. They’ll probably have upperclassmen helping us carry stuff.”
As if summoned by his words, the train announced its final stop: the town that housed Hakuryo Academy. The countryside had slowly faded into clean stone buildings and tree-lined streets, and now, through the window, the silhouette of the campus peeked between the hills. “Whoa…” Mitsumi pressed her face to the glass. “It’s so beautiful. Look at those buildings! That’s the dorm? That looks fancier than city halls back home…”
As they stepped off the train, Mitsumi fumbled to lift her suitcase from the platform, nearly tipping over. Shima caught the handle with one hand and steadied her. “You're really determined, huh?” She puffed her cheeks. “I’ve made it this far! I’m not going to be defeated by stairs and sidewalks!” He smiled—genuinely this time. “Dazzling,” he murmured before he realized he’d said it aloud. “Huh?” “Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Come on. Let’s get to the freshman dorms.”
As they walked down the station steps, the town revealed itself more: a quiet riverside road, a little café tucked between a bookstore and a post office, and students in crisp uniforms heading toward campus with matching tote bags. Mitsumi’s eyes sparkled at every corner. “Oh! That café looks like it has an old-fashioned menu. I bet their cream soda’s amazing. And look! A cat!” she pointed at a chubby orange tabby sunbathing on a windowsill.
“You really are from the countryside, huh?” Shima teased. “I’m just appreciating the details!” she grinned. The moment they reached the front gates, they were met by a few second-years holding signs. One waved them over. “Freshmen? We’re guiding new students to the dorms!” Shima gave a polite nod, but Mitsumi perked up and bowed enthusiastically. “Thank you so much for your hard work!”
“Adorable,” one of the upperclassmen whispered to the other. They began walking toward the main dorm building. Mitsumi stumbled a bit as the stone path tilted upward, and Shima reached out instinctively to steady her. She smiled slightly. “Thanks, Shima-kun.” “…We live in the same building, right?” he said after a pause. “Maybe we’ll see each other a lot.”
Mitsumi turned to him with a bright, earnest smile. “I hope so!” Shima looked away quickly, like the sun was too strong in his eyes. In his mind, he scribbled a line: “Every time she smiles, it’s bittersweet. I want to bask in it, but all it does is remind me I’m faking what she radiates so easily.” Just then, Mitsumi turns around like she’s about to ask Shima something.
“Satonosuke!” she gasped instinctively, catching herself. Shima blinked. “Who?” Almost hurt that he reminded her of someone else. Mitsumi froze, eyes wide in horror. “Ah! I mean—I mean—I wasn’t calling you that! That’s my family dog! I just—your hair! It’s the same color as his fur, and your eyes are a little sleepy-looking too, and I—”
Shima burst into laughter.
“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, hiding her face behind her hands. “That was so rude, oh no—!” “No, no,” he said, crouching slightly. “If I really look like your dog, go ahead. You can check.” “Wha—really?!” “Sure.” He tilted his head slightly, amused. With wide eyes, Mitsumi hesitantly reached out and gently patted his head. “So soft…” He smiled again, for real this time. “…So Satonosuke,” she whispered with awe.
From that moment, they were dropped the formality (except Mitsumi couldn’t bring herself to say Shima’s first name again). Shima became just “Shima-kun still.” And Iwakura? Just “Mitsumi-chan.” As they approached the dorm entrance, the doors loomed tall in front of them. Mitsumi’s breath caught.
“We’re really here,” she whispered. Shima looked at her from the side. And you still smile like you’re walking into a dream.
The freshman dorms were lively.
Mitsumi’s head swiveled constantly as she followed the group of new students inside. The building was bright and polished, with wide staircases and tall windows that let in golden afternoon light. Wood paneling lined the halls, and there were bulletin boards already filled with club flyers and welcome notes. The scent of floor polish, fresh tatami, and baked bread from the dorm kitchen blended strangely together.
“This place is amazing,” Mitsumi whispered, half to herself. “I thought dorms would be like tiny boxes.” Shima nodded beside her, dragging her suitcase with one hand. “It’s a private academy. They want people to think it’s worth the price tag.” Mitsumi turned to him. “Is it… okay that I’m here on a scholarship?” “Huh?” “I just… don’t want to stand out for the wrong reasons.” Shima blinked. “You got in because you’re smart, right?” “Top score on the entrance exam,” she admitted sheepishly. “But…” He smiled gently. “Then you belong here. Anyone gives you trouble, let me know.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips curled up just slightly. “Shima-kun… you’re nice.” “Debatable,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. As they reached the dorm lobby, a student council member in a neatly pressed uniform waved them over. “Class presidents! There you are.”
“Eh?” Mitsumi blinked. “We haven’t even—” “You’re Mitsumi Iwakura, top scorer on the entrance exam. And you’re Sousuke Shima, right? You’re both co-class presidents for Year One. Congratulations!” Shima tilted his head. “I didn’t get the top score, though.” “Oh, no,” the council member laughed, flipping through her clipboard. “Technically, the highest-scoring boy declined the role—he said you’d be better. Said you’re... easy to talk to. Good with people.”
Shima’s eye twitched a little. “He did?” Mitsumi turned to him, wide-eyed. “You’re really popular, huh, Shima-kun?” “Apparently,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. She looked at the armband in her hand, shiny and stitched in gold, and then at his. “We’re classmates and co-presidents now. I’ll do my best!” He smiled faintly, but his eyes drifted for a moment. Popular. Easy to talk to. Good with people. It felt like someone else’s résumé.
The council member smiled. “The opening ceremony is tomorrow. Be ready for your speeches.” Mitsumi turned slowly to Shima. “I didn’t prepare anything! What do I say?! What if I faint?! What if I speak too fast and no one understands my accent?!” “Take a breath,” Shima said calmly. “It’s fine. I’ll go first and set the tone. You just speak from the heart.” “That’s even scarier!!” He gave her a reassuring look. “You’ll do great.” They parted at the stairwell—girls on the left, boys on the right. Mitsumi hesitated, then turned quickly to wave. “See you later, Shima-kun!”
Shima lifted his hand lazily. “Yeah. Dorm check-in at 6pm, common room.” As Mitsumi disappeared around the corner, Shima lingered for a second before heading up. He passed students dragging suitcases, upperclassmen handing out schedules, and a few enthusiastic clubs already trying to recruit. The buzz of excitement didn’t touch him much. Inside his room, he dropped his bag on the bed, looked at his reflection in the mirror, and sighed.
He looked… fine. Presentable. Like someone who had it all together. But something from the train stuck with him. The way Mitsumi smiled when she saw a cat. How she bowed to the upperclassmen with genuine gratitude. Her hands were slightly shaking when she held that armband.
Shima sat on his bed, flipping through his notebook. The page was titled Script Idea: Distance—something he’d started weeks ago but never quite finished. Two characters were drawn in simple lines, their names scribbled beneath them: "Satoshi" and "Mitsuka."
Satoshi had shaggy blondish hair and a quiet, reserved demeanor. He was always keeping his distance from the world, pretending to be someone he wasn’t. Mitsuka, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy—her laughter contagious, her kindness disarming. She was everything Satoshi was not. And yet, in some strange way, she made him feel like he wasn’t so far off from the person he wanted to be.
Shima stared at the names for a moment. He tapped his pen to the paper. Mitsuka and Satoshi. They sound like a couple of strangers.
He wrote another line:
“They light up every room they walk into, but it’s as if there’s a distance between them and everyone else. The kind of distance only the most honest people can feel. Maybe that’s why they can’t look each other in the eye for too long. It’s too much like facing the truth.”
He paused and added:
“Maybe I write these stories because I can’t say it outright. What’s in the gap between these two characters… that’s the gap I’m scared to cross.”
Later that evening, in the common room, Mitsumi walked in still half-dressed from trying on uniforms. She wore the standard navy skirt but had paired it with her countryside windbreaker. A pencil stuck out of her hair when she tucked it into her ear, and her shoes squeaked slightly. A few students glanced up. Shima, already seated, waved her over. “Nice outfit,” he said with a half-smirk. “Don’t tease me! I couldn’t find my other sock.”
“You have something…” He pointed to his own face. Mitsumi touched her cheek. “Oh! Rice from earlier?” “Marker.” “Oh. Wait, when did that happen?” He shook his head. “You’re chaotic.”
“I think the better word would be spirited,” she corrected with a grin. “Anyway, I think I should polish up before I give my speech in front of ALL of our roommates so I’ll catch up with you in 5!” Both Shima and Mitsumi follow the dorm leader and stand behind them when entering the common room. The dorm leader gave a few welcoming announcements, then asked the student reps to introduce themselves. Shima stood first—cool, poised, practiced. He thanked everyone, mentioned how excited he was, and offered to help anyone who needed it. Then it was Mitsumi’s turn.
She stood stiffly. "Nice to meet you all! My name is Mitsumi Iwakura, and I come from a remote area in Ishikawa Prefecture. I chose this high school because many of its graduates go into public service, and I aspire to one day help revitalize my hometown. Although I’m still inexperienced and unsophisticated, I’ll do my best to learn and grow alongside all of you!" Applause broke out, impressed that she said that from her heart and not a script. Shima clapped too, watching her from the corner of his eye. That night, in his room again, he opened the notebook once more. “She really does smile like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like she’s never had to fake it.”
The next morning brought clear skies and nerves that jittered in Mitsumi’s stomach like a family of frogs. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, fussing with the bow of her uniform. It had taken her three tries to get it straight. She’d already practiced her speech five times in front of the bathroom mirror—okay, six, counting the one with hand gestures. “Today’s the start,” she whispered. “No tripping. No saying ‘yes sir’ to the principal. Smile like you belong!”
She puffed her cheeks and made a silly face to shake off the nerves before hurrying out of the room. Downstairs in the dorm entryway, Shima stood waiting by the door, uniform crisp, hands tucked in his pockets. When he noticed her approaching, he smiled politely. “Morning, Iwakura-san.” Mitsumi slowed down. “Oh! Good morning, Shima-kun.” There was a pause. Polite. A little awkward. Like two actors waiting for their cue.
Shima opened the door for her. “We're going in the same direction, so… shall we walk together?” “Yes, please!” she said brightly, bowing a little as she stepped past him. They began walking down the cobblestone path that wound through campus toward the main auditorium. The early morning light filtered through cherry blossoms just starting to bloom, and Mitsumi gasped audibly when she spotted a squirrel dart across the path.
Shima watched her—really watched her this time. She wasn’t pretending to be excited. Her joy was so unfiltered, so honest, it almost made his chest ache. She turned to him mid-skip. “You know, you really do look like Satonosuke.”
“Huh?”
“My dog.”
He blinked. “...Sorry?”
Mitsumi froze. “Ah! I didn’t mean—you’re very handsome! He’s handsome too! But like—just now, when you tilted your head, it was like Satonosuke does when I call him. And you have the same fur—I mean, hair color.” Shima stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, he burst out laughing.
“You’re comparing me to your dog.” “I—I’m sorry!!” she wailed. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way! It’s just you reminded me of home and—!” Still smiling, he crouched slightly and said, “Want to check if it’s the same texture too?” “Huh? Wait, really?” He lowered his head just enough for her to hesitantly reach out. Her fingers brushed through his hair—softer than she expected, just like Satonosuke’s winter coat.
“Oh,” she whispered. “It’s fluffy.” Shima stood up again, grinning. “You’re the first person who’s ever pet me like a golden retriever.” “I’m so sorry!” Mitsumi said again, covering her face with both hands. He chuckled. “It’s fine. Honestly, I needed that.” They kept walking in easy silence after that, the awkwardness gone. Something had shifted. “…Can I call you Mitsumi-san?” Shima asked after a few moments.
Mitsumi blinked. “Oh! Yes, of course! Then, Shima-kun, um—no, maybe just Shima?” He shrugged. “Up to you. I’m used to people using my last name. She thought for a second. “Then I’ll use your first name! Sousuke-san.” I’ll try not to mix it up with my dogs!
He chuckled again. “That sounds like you're scolding me.” “How about… Sousuke-kun?” she tried. He gave her a side glance and a small nod. “Yeah. That sounds nice.” They arrived at the ceremony hall right as the bell rang. Mitsumi straightened her back and glanced nervously toward the stage. “Speech time,” she whispered. “You’ll do great,” Shima—Sousuke—said, tapping his armband with hers. Her stomach flipped. But… in a good way.
The auditorium was packed.
Students filed in row by row, dressed neatly in dark blue uniforms. Faculty members sat off to the side, heads nodding as the opening remarks were delivered. Mitsumi could barely hear anything beyond the thump-thump-thump of her heartbeat. Sousuke went first. He walked up calmly, adjusted the mic, and smiled as if he had all the time in the world.
“My name is Sousuke Shima, and I’m honored to be your co-president this year,” he said smoothly, his voice confident. “I hope we can all grow together in this new chapter of our lives.” Simple. Warm. The audience clapped politely.
Then came Mitsumi. She walked too quickly, almost tripping over the mic cord, but caught herself. She cleared her throat and gripped the sides of the podium. “My name is Mitsumi Iwakura. I come from a small rural town in Ishikawa Prefecture.” Some heads turned, a few murmurs. She kept going. “Moving here was scary. Big cities… big schools… it’s all new to me. But I studied hard, and I came here because I want to learn. I want to help people. I want to grow. So I hope I can grow with all of you.” She bowed. “Please take care of me!”
The applause was louder this time. Sousuke watched her from the side of the stage, arms crossed. “She really means it,” he thought. “Every word.” Back in his room, he sat by the window, notebook in hand. Outside, the trees swayed gently, soft rays of sunlight filtered into his dorm.
He wrote: “Every time she smiles, it’s bittersweet.
Because part of me is getting blinded—by her joy, her honesty, her light.
And maybe it’s because everything about her is real… and everything about me is pretend.”
The classroom buzzed softly with the shuffle of chairs and the rustle of new textbooks. Mitsumi sat stiffly at her desk, hands folded tightly in front of her, trying very hard not to bounce her knee with excitement. This is it! My very first class at Hakuryo Academy!
The teacher, a thin, glasses-wearing man who looked both kind and slightly overwhelmed, tapped the board with a pointer. “Alright, everyone, let's introduce ourselves. Just your name, where you're from, and maybe a hobby. Keep it short, okay?” Mitsumi’s heart thudded. She clutched the hem of her skirt. I can do this. I practiced for this. “Iwakura-san, why don't you start us off?”
Mitsumi shot up from her seat so fast her chair almost toppled. “YES! I mean—yes, sir!” She cleared her throat, cheeks burning. “I’m Mitsumi Iwakura from a very small town in Ishikawa Prefecture! I like taking walks, playing with my dog Satonosuke, and studying maps! I hope we can all be good friends!”
A few students smiled. A few blinked, surprised. Mitsumi’s bright, countryside accent clung to her words like sunshine. She bowed so low her forehead almost hit the desk. The teacher chuckled. “Thank you, Iwakura-san. Next, ah… Takamura-san?” As Mitsumi sat back down, she peeked around the room. Students rose and introduced themselves one by one.
A girl with glossy hair and an effortless smile stood up next. “Yuzuki Murashige. I’m from Tokyo. I model sometimes. I’m into fashion and… eating sweets, I guess?” Wow, she’s so pretty, Mitsumi thought, awed. Then a petite girl with dark, straight-cut hair nervously fidgeted to her feet. “…Makoto Kurume. I’m from Saitama. I like… reading. And movies.” Her voice trailed off into a whisper. She looks nervous too, Mitsumi thought, feeling a burst of kinship.
Another girl, bold and confident with perfectly styled bangs, flipped her hair as she introduced herself. “Mika Egashira. Tokyo. I love makeup and trending spots.” She seems really cool, Mitsumi thought, scribbling little notes in her mind, already overwhelmed by the diversity of personalities.
Finally, the boy she met at the airport—Shima-kun, no, Shima Sousuke—stood up. “Sousuke Shima,” he said easily, one hand in his pocket. “I’m from Kanagawa. I… like movies. I guess.” He flashed an easygoing smile that made a few students whisper.
Mitsumi watched him, wide-eyed. He’s so calm… like Satonosuke when he’s basking in the sun… After everyone finished, the teacher clapped his hands. “Alright! I’ll be handing out your schedules now. You’re free until your afternoon orientation. Make sure you know where the cafeteria is!" As students gathered their things, Mitsumi hesitated. She didn’t know where anything was. Should I ask someone? But they all seem busy…
Before she could spiral, a bright voice cut through her thoughts. “Hey,” said Yuzuki, slinging her bag over one shoulder. “You’re Iwakura-san, right? You’re from Ishikawa? That’s so cool. Want to come with us to find the cafeteria?” Mitsumi lit up. “Really?! Thank you so much!” Kurume hovered nearby, looking relieved someone else had spoken first. Mika lingered too, pretending she wasn’t listening but clearly waiting.
Shima walked by them, offering a little wave. “See you guys at lunch,” he said with a lazy smile before heading out the door. Mitsumi’s heart felt so full it might burst. She scrambled to grab her things, practically bouncing. As they gathered at the door, Yuzuki laughed. “You’ve got energy, huh?” “Ah, sorry! I’m just… so excited,” Mitsumi said, beaming.
Kurume smiled shyly. “I…I’m glad. It’s nice having someone else who’s a little nervous too.” Mika rolled her eyes but didn’t walk away. Together, the little group stepped into the hallway, the afternoon sunlight spilling across the polished floors.
A new sky, a new start, Mitsumi thought, her heart pounding with hope.