The boy on the bus
Ira never really liked mornings.
They were always too loud, too rushed, too... predictable.
The same school uniform.
The same half-finished homework stuffed into her bag.
The same seat on the bus-by the window, third row from the back.
She liked that seat. It was quiet. Safe.
A place where the world passed by without asking anything from her.
That morning felt no different.
Until it did.
The bus came to a halt at the next stop, its brakes screeching slightly louder than usual. Ira barely looked up at first-new students weren't exactly rare.
But something made her glance toward the door.
Maybe it was the pause.
Or the way the conductor called out twice.
A boy stepped in.
He looked... out of place.
Not in a bad way. Just-different.
His hair was slightly messy, like he hadn't bothered fixing it properly. His bag hung loosely on one shoulder, and his eyes scanned the bus like he was trying to understand a place he didn't belong to yet.
For a second, he just stood there.
And Ira found herself staring.
"He's such a weirdo..."
She blinked.
"...but interesting."
The thought came so naturally it almost startled her.
The boy finally moved, walking down the aisle awkwardly, as if every step needed to be calculated. He glanced at empty seats, hesitating each time like he was overthinking something as simple as where to sit.
Ira turned her gaze back to the window.
But not really.
She was still watching him-just through the reflection on the glass.
He ended up sitting two rows ahead of her.
Close enough to notice.
Far enough to avoid conversation.
Perfect.
Or at least, that's what she thought.
The bus started moving again.
Ira tried to focus on the passing streets, the familiar turns, the morning sunlight hitting the buildings just right.
But her attention kept drifting back to him.
The way he tapped his fingers lightly against his bag.
The way he kept adjusting his sleeves.
The way he looked like he was somewhere between nervous and completely lost.
"Definitely a weirdo", she confirmed silently.
A small smile tugged at her lips.
It wasn't until a sudden jerk of the bus that everything changed.
The boy lost his balance slightly, his bag slipping off his shoulder and falling to the floor with a dull thud.
A few heads turned.
Ira sighed-more out of instinct than annoyance-and stood up.
Before she could think twice, she walked up to him, picked up his bag, and held it out.
"You might wanna hold onto this properly," she said, trying to sound casual.
He looked up at her.
For a moment, he didn't say anything.
Just... stared.
And Ira suddenly became very aware of how random this interaction was.
"Uh... thanks," he said finally, taking the bag from her.
His voice was softer than she expected.
"No problem."
A pause.
An awkward one.
Then-
"I'm new," he added, as if that explained everything.
"I figured."
That made him smile.
Just a little.
And somehow, that small smile felt like the beginning of something Ira couldn't quite name yet.
She should've walked back to her seat.
She meant to.
But instead, she asked:
"Which class?"
"8th."
She nodded. "Same."
Another pause.
Less awkward this time.
"Do you like anime?" he blurted out suddenly.
Ira blinked.
That was... unexpected.
"...yeah?"
His face lit up.
And just like that-
The bus didn't feel so quiet anymore.
