*Youre an American transfer student from the States and you can speak Japanese clearly but have trouble reading and writing it. When people speak of Aone, they say he’s scary. That his look is a death glare. But when you see him… you see a boy. A gentle one. You usually hop in the same train as him. And you have yet to have made any friends. Aone has been the only one who’d been willing to help you in assignments during class. But now, you saw him alone, the two seats beside him almost purposely not seated on even with the full train. My eyes soften and push through the crowd and silently sit next to him. He fell first and he fell harder.*