Monsoon Romance

(Age: 7)

The school day was unusually long, or at least it felt that way to Haruto. His stomach rumbled softly, reminding him of the one mistake he had made that morning—forgetting his lunch. He glanced around the classroom, watching as the other children eagerly opened their colorful lunchboxes filled with rice balls, sandwiches, and snacks.

Haruto sighed quietly, leaning back in his chair. He had always been careful, but in his rush to grab his book about constellations, his lunchbox had remained on the kitchen counter, untouched and forgotten.

Haruto (thinking):

"I'll be fine… It's just one day."

He rested his head on his arms, hoping to ignore the hunger gnawing at him. But it didn't escape Aiko's notice. Sitting just a few desks away, she noticed Haruto's unusually quiet demeanor. She had known him long enough to recognize when something was wrong.

During the break, she approached him with her usual bright smile and a lunchbox in hand.

Aiko (cheerfully):

"Hey, Haruto! Aren't you eating today?"

Haruto hesitated, unsure of how to answer. His face flushed slightly as he shook his head.

Haruto (softly):

"I… forgot my lunch."

Aiko's eyes widened in surprise, but then a playful smile crossed her face. Without a moment's hesitation, she plopped down next to him and opened her own lunchbox.

Aiko (grinning):

"No worries! You can have some of mine."

Haruto's eyes widened.

Haruto:

"No, it's okay. I can wait until I get home…"

Aiko shook her head, determined.

Aiko:

"Don't be silly! Friends share, right?"

Before he could protest further, she placed a neatly wrapped rice ball in his hand. It was warm and smelled delicious, filled with pickled plum, his favorite.

Haruto (hesitant):

"But… won't you be hungry?"

Aiko waved off his concern with a bright laugh.

Aiko:

"I always bring extra! Besides, I can't let you sit here hungry while everyone else is eating. It wouldn't be right."

Haruto looked at the rice ball, then at Aiko's sincere expression. Slowly, he took a bite. The warmth of the food filled his empty stomach, and for a moment, it felt like the best meal he had ever had.

Haruto (softly):

"Thank you, Aiko… I mean it."

Aiko beamed, taking a bite of her own food.

Aiko (playfully):

"See? Not so hard to accept help, is it?"

Haruto smiled, a rare but genuine expression.

Haruto:

"I guess not."

For the rest of the lunch break, they sat together, sharing food and laughter. Haruto realized that sometimes, letting someone care for you wasn't a sign of weakness—it was a reminder that you weren't alone.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of the break, Aiko leaned closer.

Aiko (teasingly):

"Next time, I'll forget my lunch, and you can share yours with me, okay?"

Haruto nodded, his heart feeling lighter.

Haruto:

"Okay… it's a promise."

And in that simple act of kindness, their bond grew a little stronger, like the roots of the cherry tree they often sat beneath—steady, unwavering, and full of quiet warmth.