A/N: I try not to write too many of these A/Ns unless I have to. This is set in the UK with names changed to reflect that, I am writing from a general/Kotoko's POV in the main story on my page. I started writing this to try and get a better understanding of Oliver's (Noaki) reasoning and motives behind his actions. I mainly write this for my own entertainment but thought I'd share.

Chapter 1

September 30th started off like any other day. I woke up in my own room, went through the usual motions of getting dressed, then headed downstairs for breakfast. After a quick meal, I grabbed my things and set out for school. The walk to the bus stop was as uneventful as ever, and the bus ride felt like an endless blur of routine boredom. When we finally arrived at school, the usual chaos erupted as students jostled and pushed their way off the bus.

As I neared the school gates, I saw William dash past me, his footsteps quick and determined. I wasn't sure what had him in such a hurry, but I offered him a small, polite smile. "I'll catch up with you later!" he called out over his shoulder, vanishing into the crowd before I could say anything in return.

As I rounded the corner into the school yard, something caught my eye—someone lurking off to the side, watching me intently. I tried to shrug it off. Unnerving? Yes. Unusual? Not really, especially with the way some of the girls at this school acted. Before I could give it much more thought, she darted out in front of me, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

"U-um, hi," she stammered, barely managing to meet my eyes. "My name is Harper Fields."

I glanced down at her hands and immediately realised what was going on. She was clutching an envelope, and I could just about make out what looked like my name scribbled across it, surrounded by poorly drawn hearts. Not this again. Last year, there had been a ridiculous craze of girls handing out love letters to their crushes—probably inspired by some cheesy romance show they'd all been binge-watching. The school year had only just begun, and I'd already received at least four of these. I lost count of how many I got last year before summer break.

"Would you please read this?" she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes still glued to the ground. The tremble in her words made it clear she was terrified of what I might say or do next.

Who was this girl? I racked my brain, trying to place her face. Had I met her before? She clearly went to this school, but I couldn't recall ever seeing her around. Maybe she was in the year below me, which would explain why she hadn't crossed my path before now.

What gave her the audacity to stride up to me and demand that I read yet another sappy love letter? At most she's seen me around school and I'm positive we haven't exchanged a single word until now. But here she is, trying to hand me a letter with wild proclamations of love.

When I first started receiving these letters, I tried to be polite about it. I'd accept the letter, and explain that I wasn't interested in a relationship. Out of curiosity, I even read a few of them at the start. But they were all the same—gushing about how "perfect" I was and how they'd been in love with me since the moment they laid eyes on me. After a while, it became predictable and, frankly, a bit exhausting. I felt nothing when I read them.

So, after the first handful, I stopped bothering. I started telling them outright that I wasn't interested, before walking away. It felt like the most efficient way to handle things, sparing both them and me from wasting time. The letters had long since lost any sense of novelty or importance.

What I wasn't sure of, was whether this girl was very confident (although unlikely from her demeanour), or just plain stupid. Handing me this love letter in broad daylight, for all to see? No matter how I respond, I was bound to be the subject of gossip for days to come, and I hate being the centre of attention. "I don't want it," I grumbled, pushing past her and making my way into the school building as fast as I could. I could feel everyone's eyes on me, hearing the whispers cascading through the crowd put me on edge. At least the other girls had the decency to make their confessions after school, in private. Why on earth did she think it was appropriate to do it right in front of the school gates.

As I sat down at my desk, something occurred to me. Maybe this girl wasn't as stupid as I initially thought. No matter how I responded I would look like the bad guy for rejecting her in front of everyone. Was that her plan? To put me in a position where rejecting her outright would make me look like an absolute arsehole. If that was the case then thankfully she completely underestimated me. This would eventually blow over along with the stupid love letter trend and then hopefully I can go back to my normal everyday mundane routine.

"Hey Oliver," William called as he sat himself down next to me. He was probably the closest thing I had to a "friend"—though that term felt a bit loose. I didn't bother with small talk; most people had nothing new or interesting to say, and lengthy conversations left me feeling drained.

"I heard some girl tried to give you a love letter and you just walked off?" William remarked with a grin. It wasn't surprising that news had spread so quickly; gossip seemed to fly around this school. I shrugged and mumbled that it was just some girl I didn't know and wasn't interested in. William nodded, though he had a thoughtful look, clearly weighing something up.

"That must be the tenth girl to confess her love to you so far," he said. I wasn't surprised he was keeping count—he had a knack for gossip. "Did none of them catch your eye?" He stared at me with an unnervingly intense gaze, clearly trying to gauge my reaction. I could tell there was more to his question than mere curiosity.

"I'm not gay," I replied, shaking my head. "Sure, some of the girls were attractive, but I'm not interested in a relationship at the moment." Even the girl from this morning wasn't unattractive, but the idea of handing out love letters seemed a bit daft. William seemed content with that answer and decided not to press further.

The rest of the day was a slog. Normally, when people commented about me, it was the same old stuff—like how my IQ was supposedly off the charts or the absurd rumour that I was a consultant for the UK Space Agency. I did know quite a bit about rockets from my own research, but the idea that they'd consult a sixteen-year-old over a more experienced professional was laughable. The day felt like a never-ending stream of the same old ridiculousness.

I saw her a few times throughout the day, she was always with two other girls, one taller and the other shorter. On multiple occasions, she would have an outburst at the people around her for whispering about her, despite the fact that she could clearly hear them. My suspicions were correct, she was in all bottom sets for all her subjects. In other words, she was a moron.

As I gathered my things and left school at the end of the day, I spotted her again, exiting the gates with her friends. It seemed that once I noticed her, she became impossible to ignore—an effect of my photographic memory, no doubt. Today, she was accompanied by a guy I hadn't seen with her earlier. They appeared quite close, and I couldn't help but wonder if she had already moved on to this new guy after confessing her feelings to me this morning. Not that it was any of my business, but it seemed rather sudden.

As I made to walk past them, I was abruptly halted by a voice that grated on my nerves.

"How dare you act like a snob just because you're smart! You're not even a decent human being for the way you treated Harper!" I turned to see the guy storming towards me, his eyes blazing with anger as he prepared to berate me. Harper was scrambling after him, trying to pull him back and urging him to let it go.

Once again, the spectacle had attracted the attention of everyone at the school gates. I looked at them both with disdain. "I can't stand stupid girls," I sneered before turning on my heel and striding towards the bus, eager to get home and escape the chaos. The day had been draining, and I wasn't used to so much happening all at once. I could hear the guy shouting after me, with Harper and her friends trying to calm him down. I'd barely met him, but I already despised him.

On Saturday evening, I settled down in my room with a book I was reading when I heard an onslaught of shouting from downstairs.

"Aaron! Aaron! Come quick!" My Mum was calling for him to come to the living from his office. My Mum was pretty eccentric in general but she sounded pretty frantic and I couldn't help but be curious about what was going on. I stood up and put my slippers on before making my way downstairs and walking into the living room to see my parents watching the TV. From what I could make out, it seemed someone's house had burned down not too far from here.

"Isn't that Ian?" My Mum asked, pointing to the man who was being interviewed by the news, presumably because it was his house that had burnt down. He looked devastated, crying something about his wife being the reason he and his daughter had made it out alive. Ian? I remember an Ian. He was friends with my Dad when they were at University and they would sometimes meet at Ian's restaurant. We'd even eaten there a few times but it's been a while now. I don't remember Dad ever mentioning him having a daughter though.

"That's so sad," Mum cried, tears welling in her eyes. "I can't believe they're out on the street." My dad, sitting in quiet contemplation, had that familiar look—the one that told me they were about to come up with a plan to help, that was the type of people they were.

"I remember I was pregnant at the same time as Ian's wife," Mum added, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "You're only a couple of months younger than his daughter!" She disappeared for a moment, returning with an old photo album. Flipping through the pages, she found a picture of herself and another woman, both heavily pregnant, beaming at the camera. Something about the woman's face felt oddly unsettling, like I'd seen it before somewhere.

"What was his daughter's name?" I asked, staring at the photo, trying to place the unease I felt.

"Harper, wasn't it?" Dad said, half-guessing, his voice thoughtful. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. Of course. Ian Fields is Harper Fields' dad. Misfortune seems to cling to this girl, doesn't it?

"Oh, Aaron, we have to invite them to stay!" Mum exclaimed, clasping Dad's hands with urgency. "We can put Ian in the spare room, and move Finley into Oliver's room so Harper can have his."

Both Dad and I turned to stare at her in disbelief. This was exactly like her—always ready to throw the house into chaos for the sake of helping others. The thought of Harper staying here, of all people, sent an uncomfortable chill through me.

"Okay Eleanor, let's slow down a second and think this through properly," Dad muttered, though I could tell from the look on his face that he was torn. He was always the more practical one, but I knew he wouldn't say no outright. "It's definitely doable, I just worry about Oliver and Finley sharing a room. Oliver's a teenager—he needs his... privacy," Dad reasoned, glancing at me as if to back up his point.

Mum waved her hand dismissively, clearly not wanting to acknowledge that I was anything other than her little boy. "Nonsense! It won't be for too long, and we can't leave them out on the street," she said firmly, her mind clearly made up.

I knew better than to chime in. Once Mum had latched onto an idea, there was little point in voicing my opinion. She was probably more excited about the idea of having a girl in the house than anything else.

Dad soon backed down and promised to call Ian in the morning to invite them to stay, sealing the inevitable change that was about to disrupt our household, whether I was ready for it or not.

On Monday, I headed into school. This would be the last time this routine would be normal for a while. No doubt I would have to accompany that girl to school when they moved in for a while. As I stepped off the bus, I could have sworn I heard what sounded like someone shouting through a megaphone. What on earth?

Rounding the corner to the gates, I spotted him—the guy from Friday, the one who always seemed to attract attention. He was holding up a sign that read, "Donate to the Homeless: Harper Fields," bellowing through a megaphone for anyone within earshot. How ridiculous. Moronic even. And yet, I couldn't help but find it oddly amusing.

"Kunal please, you're embarrassing me!" Harper semi shouted at him. I stood back for a second to watch this unfold a bit.

"Look everyone!" Kunal shouted through his megaphone "even though her house burnt down she has come to school her cheerful self, how touching!" I shook my head, it didn't take long for me to find him overwhelmingly exasperating. Did spectacles just follow this girl around. I walked up behind Harper who was berating Kunal for his idiotic behaviour.

"Excuse me, can you move?" I asked her. She spun around and looked at me in horror, clearly mortified by everything that was unfolding.

Kunal, infuriated by the sight of me, sprang into action. "You! Harper has suffered enough misfortune. Whose fault do you think that is?"
What was that supposed to mean? I wondered. "Are you suggesting that I burnt her house down?" I asked, my voice edged with disbelief. "That's quite an accusation, considering I don't even know where she lives."

I glanced over at Harper, who was visibly struggling to keep her composure. Her flustered expression was oddly entertaining, and I couldn't resist the temptation to push her just a little further.

Pulling out my wallet, I fished out a £20 note and held it out to her. "Do you want me to donate to your little charity?" I asked, the words dripping with more condescension than I'd intended.

I could see the moment that Harper's rage bubbled over and she slapped the note out of my hand as she screamed, "don't look down on me!" I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting it and it knocked me off guard for a second but I quickly steadied myself as she continued shouting. "I can't believe I've wasted my time liking someone like you all these years. I'd rather die than accept any help from you!"

A chuckle escaped me almost instantly, that was exactly the sort of thing I was hoping she would say. "Is that right?" I asked, "well remember you said that." I wasn't sure if a girl of her intellect could tell that I knew more than I was letting on.

"I will remember," Harper said defiantly. "Don't go looking down on other people just because we're not as smart as you!"

I just smirked, despite the fact that people were looking, something about the whole interaction was quite entertaining and I found myself less bothered by it than I usually would be.

"Ollie!" My Mum called from downstairs that evening, "come down, Ian and Harper will be arriving soon!" Finley was sitting on the windowsill in my room looking out the window. He had spent the last hour crying as his room was transformed into a pretty girls bedroom and he was forced into mine. I watched as Ian's van pulled into the driveway and I started to make my way downstairs.

"Let me get my eldest so he can help with your luggage. Hold on!" I heard my Dad tell them before he came in and caught me in the hallway. "Can you come out and help with their bags?" he asked me, I nodded and took a peek outside as I put my shoes on. I could see Harper, it was definitely the same girl. She appeared to be staring up at my bedroom window, she had probably spotted Finley sitting on the windowsill.

I headed outside and walked straight up to them, revelling in the horrified expression that immediately spread across Harper's face. "Hi there," I directed my attention to Ian and shook his hand politely. "I'm Oliver, Ian's son. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Ian was pretty tall and slender, he towered over my Dad with ease. Not unusual as my Dad is pretty short and stocky. "The pleasure is all mine! He is the spitting image of his mother, isn't he?" Harper's eyes turned to the door as my Mum started walking out the house. She brushed her ginger hair out of her face and fidgeted with her fingers nervously as Mum approached her.

"Hi Harper, I'm Eleanor! Finally, I've been so excited all day. I'm the only girl in the house, so it gets awfully lonely with all these men." she said, ushering Harper into the house. "You're in the same year as my Oliver, aren't you? Have you seen each other in school?"

"We don't share any classes, but we've become more familiar with each other recently, haven't we?" I felt compelled to be part of this conversation, analysing Harper's face for that flushed expression she seemed to have the majority of the time.

Mum took her into the living room and I continued bringing in their bags and placing them in the hallway. Once I was done, I followed everyone into the living room. "Hey, do you think you could help me with my homework?" Finley asked, I furrowed my brow slightly. Finley never needed help with his homework but I was happy to help him either way.

"No, not you, Oliver. I'd like to get help from Harper," Finley smirked. I noticed immediately where he was going with this and sat down on the sofa to enjoy the scene as it unfolded. Of course Harper couldn't help with Finley's homework. She looked at the question, confusion etched on her face and smiled sheepishly before giving an incorrect answer. Finley just burst out laughing and I couldn't help snickering myself.

Mum grabbed him by his arm and shouted, "You need to apologise to Harper right now! That was incredibly rude!"

But Fin was having none of it and screamed that he hated her before storming off upstairs. With the scene over, I returned to the foyer to start taking some of the bags upstairs to the room Harper would be staying in. Mum was showing her around and she seemed elated with the way Mum had decorated it, mentioning that since her Mum had died she hadn't had anything like this since her Dad was always working.

A moment later, Mum came out and told me to help Harper unpack before rushing off downstairs.

"This was Finley's room," I called out from the doorway, causing Harper to turn around in shock. "Now we're both cramped into one room while you get his to yourself." She looked dejected, apologetic even but didn't have anything to say. I placed her suitcase down in the centre of the room and looked around, "what do you want me to help you unpack?" I asked. I wasn't sure what she had in her suitcase and wasn't about to start rooting through her personal belongings.

"Never mind, I can do this myself thank you," she snapped back. She was evidently uncomfortable with my presence.

I couldn't help but laugh slightly, if not just to push her buttons some more. "Well like you said, you'd rather die than accept my help so…" I started to walk out the room but took one glance back. "Don't get in my way."