From Tachibana Yui's Perspective
The days after her transfer passed in quiet rhythm. Predictable, muted, manageable.
That was how Yui liked things. Controlled.
She'd changed schools before. She knew how to move through a place without leaving a trace. Say the right things. Keep her head down. Smile, but not too much. Never invite questions.
But even with all her usual precautions, someone noticed her.
Makoto.
He was different. Not in any loud or dramatic way just quietly different. He didn't push. He didn't pry. But every time she glanced toward his seat, she caught him already looking, then quickly pretending he hadn't been.
And somehow… that didn't bother her.
In fact, she caught herself hoping he'd glance again.
It scared her a little that hope.
It was raining that Thursday. The kind of rain that soaked you through even if you only ran for a moment.
She always carried an umbrella. Miku used to forget hers all the time, and Yui had gotten used to thinking ahead for both of them.
She didn't expect to see him there, standing under the overhang like a stray cat unsure if it wanted to make the dash. Alone. Head tilted up at the sky as if it might stop if he stared long enough.
It was instinct more than thought when she spoke.
"Did you forget yours too?"
He turned. And for a second, he looked… surprised. Like he hadn't expected anyone to talk to him. Especially not her.
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not my best moment."
She didn't hesitate.
"…We can share. If that's okay."
The umbrella barely covered them both. Their shoulders brushed as they walked, but neither of them shifted away.
Yui could have said nothing. Silence was comfortable for her. But something about the soft rhythm of the rain and the way he didn't try to fill the silence made it easier to speak.
"Do you always stay after school?"
"Sometimes. Depends on how tired I am," he said.
She hesitated. Then, quietly,
"I stay because… I don't like going home right away."
That truth left her mouth before she could stop it. And still, he didn't ask. He just nodded and said,
"I get that."
Not Why?
Not Are you okay?
Just understanding.
It felt like… peace.
When they reached the station, Yui paused. Something in her chest twisted a little a strange reluctance.
"I don't talk much," she said, unsure why she was saying it at all. "Not because I don't want to. It's just… hard sometimes."
She braced for awkwardness. But Makoto only smiled softly, his voice steady.
"I don't mind. You don't have to say anything. I still get it."
The tension in her shoulders eased.
"Thank you," she whispered.
They parted with no promises. Just a moment. A beginning.
Not loud. Not defined. But real.
As the train doors closed, she watched him standing still, eyes on her until the last second.
That night, Yui lay in bed, her sketchbook unopened beside her. Miku was asleep already, her breathing slow and soft. The rain outside had slowed to a drizzle.
And yet, the only sound echoing in her head…
Was his voice.
I still get it.