The week after their visit to the Old Quarter passed in a quiet rhythm.
Leo found himself waking up earlier, walking lighter, even writing more. There was something about spending a full day with someone who had known him before he knew himself that had settled a weight inside him.
But peace is a rare thing at their school.
Especially in the Creative Writing Club.
---
It began with a single envelope.
Cream-colored. Unmarked.
Slipped into Mr. Nakamura's office mailbox, with no sender. It contained a letter—a single page, neatly written in smooth black ink.
> "If words could hold weight, then mine would crush mountains.
I don't write this to be seen. I write this because I'm tired of hiding.
There is a boy.
Quiet, new, a little sad around the edges. He does not know how many eyes watch him.
I want him to know what he is to me: gravity. The quiet kind, that pulls tides and rearranges skies.
I wish I were braver. I wish I could say this to his face.
But for now, let this be my voice.
— No name."
Mr. Nakamura read it aloud during club hour.
The room went still.
"Anonymous entries are allowed, of course," he said, placing the page down. "But… this one's particularly evocative. What do you all think?"
Yuki was the first to speak. "Well. Someone's heart just exploded beautifully."
Kai whistled low. "That's either the beginning of a love confession or a poetic curse."
Sora leaned forward, brow furrowed. "Wait… did I write that? It kind of sounds like me after too much coffee."
Rin remained silent.
Her pen tapped slowly against the table.
Leo, meanwhile, looked mildly like he wanted to vanish.
"I-I don't think it's about me," he muttered.
"Guilty conscience," Yuki said, grinning.
Mr. Nakamura smiled. "Well, perhaps the author will come forward someday. Until then, let it be a reminder of why we write—not always to be read, but to be felt."
---
That night, rumors spread like wildfire.
The "Gravity Letter," as Kai dubbed it, was shared through whispers, group chats, and one very dramatic hallway reenactment.
By lunch the next day, half the school had heard about "the beautiful mystery love letter about the transfer student."
And most of them had a theory.
Kai posted a poll on the class forum:
Who wrote it?
Rin: 43%
Sora: 26%
Yuki: 18%
Hana: 8%
Mr. Nakamura: 5%
Leo nearly choked on his sandwich.
---
That afternoon, Rin pulled Kai aside after club.
"Delete the poll."
Kai raised a brow. "Why?"
Rin looked him in the eye. "Because it's mine."
Kai froze.
Then, slowly, he smiled. "Oh."
She folded her arms. "Don't tell Leo. Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I want to see if he figures it out. And… because I don't want to win like this."
Kai nodded slowly. "Understood."
Then he leaned in. "It was beautiful, by the way. The part about rearranging skies? That one's going in my quote book."
Rin didn't smile. But she nodded.
Then walked away.
---
Later that evening, Leo sat by the dorm window, the letter in hand.
He'd asked for a copy. Said it inspired him.
He reread it three times.
He didn't know who wrote it.
But he hoped, somehow, that when the time came, the person would be brave enough to sign their name.
He whispered the final line:
> "Let this be my voice."
And stared into the night.