The world had always felt loud to Aki — not because of the noise, but because of how much he couldn't say.
The day after gym class passed like a blur. He went to class. Took notes. Ate lunch alone, as always. The people around him chatted, laughed, moved on with their lives. He kept his eyes on his desk.
But his thoughts?
They stayed on her.
Lily.
He didn't even know why he noticed her that day. She was like sunlight through a cracked window — the kind of beauty that slipped into your world before you knew it was there. But what lingered in his mind wasn't how pretty she looked.
It was how tired her smile was.
How her knees almost gave out.
And how she still laughed anyway.
Aki had seen her stumble. He saw the way Riku caught her. Saw her body lean into someone else's strength, and something in his chest tightened. Not with anger. Not with envy. Just… longing.
He knew that kind of weight.
The weight people carry when no one else sees the whole story.
That night, Aki sat at his desk in the corner of his tiny room. Books were stacked neatly on one side, old notebooks lined the shelves above. His sketchpad lay open in front of him, blank.
His hand hovered over the page for a long time.
Then he began to draw.
He didn't think. He just let his pencil move.
Soft lines formed the curve of Lily's face. Her eyes — not wide and bubbly like some girls, but serious. Like she had lived twice. He drew the way her hair fell in strands after PE, messy but elegant. Then her posture — a bit stiff, like her body still didn't quite trust itself.
She didn't move like someone born for the spotlight.
She moved like someone who had to crawl just to stand.
Aki paused. Stared at the page.
He flipped it and started again — not because the drawing was wrong, but because he wanted to understand it better. Her better.
By the time the clock read 12:03 AM, there were three sketches. One of her catching her breath in the hallway. One of her laughing faintly after Riku pulled away. And one — his favorite — of her looking downward, alone, just before she smiled.
He didn't realize how much space she was taking up in his thoughts.
But he also didn't try to push it away.
For the first time in a long time, he felt like someone else's silence matched his own.
He tucked the drawings into a folder, carefully, like they were something private. Sacred.
Then he stared out the window for a long time.
The moonlight spilled in gently.
And Aki whispered to no one,
"I think… you're like me. You hide it too."