He tried to laugh it off in his head.
Of course, someone else would like Ken. He's kind. Smart. And cool. Why wouldn't they? But the thought stung more than he expected.
He risked one more glance out the window. Ken was stretching by the edge of the track, sunlight catching in his hair, oblivious to the effect he had on anyone watching.
Sato's heart thudded heavily.
A question he didn't want to ask himself rose quietly in the back of his mind: What if she tells him her feelings? What will he say?
Mr. Kuroda called his name again, distant and muffled.
"Sato?"
He blinked, looking up. "Y-Yes?"
Kuroda gave him a pointed look. "Focus on the class." He said and moved on.
Sato stared at his notebook again, but all he could see was Ken's smile—and the way someone else might be the one to make him smile next.
Later that day, Sato walked down the busy hallway, students running around, chatting with friends—he carried some papers with him... a little punishment from Mr. Kuroda, and for not paying much attention to the class.
A soft sigh slipped out from Sato's lips.
What am I doing? He thought, feeling guilty for some reason.
Sato stopped in front of the faculty room, his footsteps slower than they needed to be. He handed over the stack of papers to Mr. Kuroda with a quick, quiet apology. The teacher merely gave him a nod before returning to his seat.
The boy bowed slightly and turned away, heading back down the hallway. The chatter squeaking on polished floors, the rustle of bags—it all blurred around him.
He was halfway past the stairwell when a voice, soft but urgent, made him pause.
"I... I like you! I always have, for a long time now."
He froze.
Somethings in the voice made his chest tighten.
Slowly, almost against his will, he turned his head and stepped back to the edge of the stairs. Carefully, Sato leaned just enough to see.
At the bottom of the staircase, just out of sight from most of the hallway, stood a girl in their class—Ito Akari.
Her hands were clenched nervously in front of her skirt, eyes wide with a mix of fear and determination.
Standing across from her was Ken.
Sato's breath caught.
Ken looked surprised, his hand halfway through brushing his bangs from his forehead. The same gentle smile that always made Sato's stomach flip slowly spread across his face.
It wasn't cruel. It never would be. Ken wasn't that kind of person.
But that made it worse.
Sato couldn't hear what Ken said in reply. He didn't need to.
The look in Akari's eyes, the way her shoulders eased just slightly, said enough.
Sato stepped back from the stairs, heart pounding. The hallway felt louder now, even though nothing had changed. The light overhead flickered slightly, but maybe that was just him.
He swallowed, the lump in his throat heavy and sharp.
He didn't know what he was feeling exactly—jealousy? Regret? Something more complicated and harder to name.
All he knew was that something inside him had quietly cracked.
He slowly steps backward and gradually becomes deliberate and quiet—while his gaze drops to the floor.
He didn't know where to go next—anywhere, that wasn't here.
Not long after, he ended up in front of their dorm room. Room 5.
A place where it was quiet, the kind of quiet that let thoughts crawl in through the cracks.
Sato leaned against the door closed, head tilted back, staring up at the cloudy as he slowly dropped down the ground. His knees curled up to his chest, and he breathed in deep—held it for a moment and let it go.
The thought of what he witnessed stayed and pulsed in his chest. Then, an uninvited feeling followed after the flashbacks—it was a cold pain.
A faint vibration buzzed in his pocket. A message.
[Renjiro: Where are you, Hirota? Sasaki-sensei was looking for you.]
Sato stared at the screen. A faint grin spreads across his face.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard. He shook his head before pressing on his phone.
Sato honestly didn't know what to do and say.
"Koizumi-san..." He whispered to himself. "I'm sorry, I think I might be sick."
He typed it out and sent it. Then he closed his eyes and leaned back again, letting the moment sit with him.
For now, that was enough.
The next morning.
Rain fell in sheets, early and unrelenting, washing the world in a cold gray hush.
Sato jogged across the muddy path behind the school building, pulling his hood up in a futile attempt to shield himself. He hadn't brought an umbrella—of course he hadn't.
He hadn't even checked the forecast.
By the time he neared the storage shed, the rain had soaked through his blazer and dripped steadily from his bangs. He ducked under the small overhang of the shed's roof, shaking out sleeves and brushing droplets from his arms.
A soft, tired sigh escaped him as he looked down at his clothes—clinging to his skin, heavy and cold.
"Oh, it's pouring really hard again," he muttered to himself.
The rain hissed against the roof above, a low static that filled the silence. His breath came in faint clouds. He was about to step back into the rain when something made him freeze.
A flicker of memory.
He turned slowly, eyes trailing across the shed's faded wooden panels—then stopped.
It was this shed.
His eyes lingered on the door. The crack in the frame. The rust on the handle. The subtle scent of rain-soaked earth that matched what he remembered too well.
That time.
Sato swallowed, his chest tightening. He looked away quickly, jaw tense.
And now... standing here again, he felt the guilt settle over him like the rain on his skin. Heavy. Cold. Lingering.
Sato let out a breath, shakier this time. He rubbed a hand down his face, pushing back the thoughts, the memory, the ache. But it didn't work. It never really did.
The rain kept falling.
Sato leaned back against the wall of the shed, closing his eyes for just a moment. Letting the sound of the storm drown out the things he couldn't name.
Then, he heard a shallow footstep coming from the side. Sato slowly veered his eyes over his shoulder.
[?!]
His eyes widened as the person settled in next to him.
Ken whisked away the droplets on the umbrella. He felt a stare at the back of his neck—he turned his head, and they met each other's eyes.
Ken's lips parted slightly as if to speak, one hand still half-raised in a wave.
But Sato was already gone—his back retreating fast into the curtain of rain, shoulders hunched, footsteps splashing messily across the muddy ground
"... Sato—"
Ken's voice was lost to the downpour.
For a moment, he stood still, umbrella held uselessly at this side, the rain tracing silver paths down his sleeves. The wind curled around him like something, asking questions.
Ken looked in the direction Sato had disappeared, worry etching into his features.
Meanwhile, Sato ran towards the main school building. His breath ragged, not just from the run, but from something harder to admit.
The rain blurred everything—his vision, his thoughts, the ache pressing behind his eyes.
He didn't know why he ran. Or maybe he did. All Sato knows is that he's not ready to face Ken... not after what happened.
Sato's feet finally slowed when he reached the back steps of the entrance. He doubled over, catching his breath, soaked to the bone. His hands trembled a bit.
He slightly lowered his body, hands on his knees as he exhaled roughly.
His breath was stable, yet his chest felt tight as if something inside him was straining against itself, pressing hard from within.
He lifted one hand to his face, fingers brushing over his mouth as if trying to hold something in. A sob? A thought? He didn't know.
The rain slid from his hair, traced down his neck, mingling with the warmth in his eyes. He refused to let it fall.
He hated this feeling.
The confusion. The jealousy.
The way his heart sped up whenever Ken was near—and how it ached even worse now.
"I'm such an idiot," he muttered, the words barely audible over the sound of the rain.
But still, he didn't move.
He just stayed there, crouched on the steps like he was waiting for something to catch up with him.
Maybe himself. Maybe the version of him that wasn't afraid to name what he felt.
The storm pressed on around him, uncaring.
And for a moment, all Sato could do was breathe—and let the weight of everything settle over him like the rain-soaked uniform clinging to his skin.
The storm had passed by morning, but inside Sato, the downpour lingered.
He didn't talk about it. And didn't think about it—not consciously, at least. But every time he caught a flicker of someone calling out Ken's name down the hallway or heard the familiar rhythm of his footsteps behind him, his chest tightened like a vice.
So he started disappearing. Again and again.
There are times when he'd lower his head, walking past the boy. His step would fasten as he strode the hallway with his hoodie covering his face—just something to make him look unapproachable.
At lunch, he stopped going to the cafeteria altogether and had too many chances, too many shared tables and too much noise.
Instead, he slipped away—to the rooftop when the weather allowed or the fair stairwell that no one ever used. Places Ken wouldn't think to look.
He didn't tell anyone why nor respond to texts. Not even Renjiro's.
So he waited.
Waited for the guilt to fade. For the confusion to sort itself out. For his heart to stop reacting like it still believed there was a chance.
But it didn't. It beat louder every day he avoided him.
Despite Sato's best effort to run away, Renjiro was starting to get concerned as much as he was annoyed.
He later took notice of Sato's strange behavior. And not just that, even Ken as well.
Lately, Ken kept staring at the door, peering over every second as if waiting for someone to come knocking in. It was too obvious who it was.
And Sato is no better. He kept disappearing on him every day and couldn't get in touch for the next few hours.
Even though we're classmates, he felt like a ghost.
Observant as he may be, Renjiro could not let this go on for the next, perhaps, years of just them acting as if one's an emotional ghost and the other is a clueless person.
He had to do something, at least to stop the gap from further widening between the two.
This is not the ending he wanted.
Time for plan B, Renjiro thought, this time determined to have the two fix their misunderstanding.
After class was dismissed and right before Sato disappeared again, he grabbed his arms and pulled the boy to the side.
"Hirota, there you are," Renjiro said, his eyes fixed and unreadable. Studying Sato's surprised and confused look.
"Um... Koizumi-san..."
"You said you're a fan of Kamori-sensei's work, right?"
He asked, his tone inviting yet curious.
Sato blinked. He wasn't shocked. It just got his interest. "Yes." He answered.
Renjiro beamed casually as he shifted his weight, leaning slightly towards Sato as if he's about to share a gossip.
"Guess what?" He said, "I got her new novel that just recently dropped."
[!!]
Renjiro could see how that piqued Sato so much, as the boy perked up quite from excitement. But he settled back in, thinking Renjiro might catch on... which he already did.
Renjiro smirked and slightly narrowed his eyes mischievously. "If you want, I can let you borrow it."
The offer was very much tempting. Sato really wanted to read the book—there are no other choice but to say yes.
"A-Alright. If that's okay with you, Koizumi-san."
Renjiro double tapped his shoulder as he threw an arm around him.
"Of course! No worries." He reassured him as he led the way to their dorm room.
When they arrived, Renjiro told Sato to go in first whilst he walked behind him. Sato opened the door, yet he was hesitant at first.
He shook away any thought that was distracting him and slowly took a stepped in before Renjiro.
As he continued to walk forward inside, his eyes caught on the door closing behind him. The light from the hallway dimmed as the latch clicked shut—a little louder than expected.
Click.
Sato paused.
"Eh?"
He turned slightly, watching as Renjiro juggled the knob with a subtle curse under his breath.
"Ah. You've gotta be kidding me," Renjiro muttered.
"What... happened?" Sato asked, confused.
Renjiro tapped the knob again, then leaned his weight against it. "Uh... it's the door, it won't open. It suddenly closed on its own."
"Eh? H-How did that happen?"
Sato's voice slightly trembled. The fear and confusion were visible on his face.
Renjiro scratched the back of his neck with a sigh, still playing it cool. "Don't worry though, I'll go get Sasaki-sensei. He's usually on duty around this hour."
"What?!" Sato perked up, "Wait, Koizumi-san...!"
"Just hang tight. I'll be back before you can say,'Kamori-sensei's plot twist gives me anxiety'."
"Wait a minute, where are you going?"
Sato said as the nervousness slowly creeped in the back of his neck.
"Don't worry, I'll be back." Renjiro said, albeit cautiously and reassuring.
Then, Sato leaned forward and pressed his ear to the door.
As Renjiro turned around and walked off, his footsteps echoed faintly beyond the door.
More footsteps. Quieter now. The faint rise and fall of Renjiro's voice, indistinguishable—but clearly calling to someone.
Then... nothing.
No more footsteps. No voice. Just silence.
Sato leaned back, blinking. His heart thumped uneasily in his chest.
He stared for a moment. He looked at the door, then around the room. It felt... still. Unsettling.
Of all the room to be locked in, why did it have to be room 5?
Sato turned around slowly, eyes landing on the neatly made bed across from him. Ken's side.
The room was still. Ordinary, almost. But the silence made it feel like a glass box.
He exhaled softly, his breath catching just slightly.
Then, his eyes caught a glimpse of a pair of someone's bare feet stepping closer to his direction.
Sato quickly lifted his head up as soon as he felt a familiar presence.
Standing across him was Ken, wearing a puzzled look on his face. Their eyes met each other.
"Sato?" Ken spoke under his breath.
Sato flinched when he heard that voice, making him take a step backward.
"M-Miura... kun... why are you here?"
Sato stuttered upon his words.
Ken shifted to his side. "Well, this is my room."
His brows bunched, and his eyes twitched as he continued. "Actually, Koizumi told me to be here 'cause he had something to give me. But then he pushed me into the closet."
"Eh?"
Sato glanced over the closet in question. It was huge—enough for even three people to hide in it.
Ken eyed him up. "So, why are you here?"
Sato blinked. "Oh, Koizumi-san told me... the same thing."
[??]
"Then, the door got locked as it closed on its... own."
"What?" Ken's forehead furrowed as his brows knit at the thought.
He quickly walked to the door and tried twisting the doorknob, but it won't budge.
"What the—?!" He barked as he tried as hard as he could. But it was the same.
Ken scowled even more. Maybe, even mad.
That little...
The thought of squishing Renjiro's head and crush it at once just crept at the back of Ken's mind.
He had enough of all Renjiro's antics.
A few minutes passed, but the door was still locked—stubborn, unmoving.
Ken had tried everything sort of kicking it down. Now, he sat across from Sato on the cold wooden floor, legs crossed, arms folded tight across his chest.
His scowl hadn't left his face since the first minute. His eyes were fixed on the doorknob like he could burn a hole through it with sheer will.
Sato, on the other hand, sat a little more awkwardly—knees drawn up, arms resting over them. His back was against the wall, and he kept glancing between Ken and the ceiling light.
"... He's so dead," Ken muttered under his breath, his voice low and simmering. "I'm gonna find Renjiro, and I swear, I'm gonna punch his soul out."
Sato offered a weak laugh. "You've been saying that—I'm sure Koizumi-san will come back soon enough."
Ken's glare flicked up. "I'll keep saying it five more if that's how long we're stuck here."
Silence again.
The air inside was beginning to feel heavier. Not exactly hot—but stale. Still, the kind of quiet that makes even breathing sound too loud.
Sato shifted a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wonder what time Koizumi-san will be back."
The faint glow of sunlight filtered through the high, narrow window near the ceiling—barely enough to reach the floor—but just enough to remind them time was passing.
Outside, the sun was beginning its slow descent, casting long streaks of orange and gold across the wooden floorboards. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, catching the light like drifting ambers.
The glow painted a soft line across Ken's shoulder before slipping away as the sun dipped lower, its warmth fading by the minute.
Sato glanced up at the changing light, watching the golden hue shift to amber, then to a dusky rose.
"It's getting late," he murmured. "Sun is going down."
Ken didn't answer right away. His jaw clenched. He didn't want to admit it, but they've been stuck in the room for about an hour now.
If this was a test, it was a stupid one. And if it was a prank, it wasn't funny.
"I don't care what it is," he said finally. "When we get out, I'm not letting him off easy."
His eyes narrowed again.
Then, without a warning, clouds gathered like a secret unfolding—soft at first, then swelling dark and full.
The first drops fell like whispers, then the sky opened up, rain cascading in silver streaks through the last light of day. It was sudden, almost glowing behind a veil of falling water as if the sky couldn't decide between farewell and blessing.
Ken lifted his head up and glanced through the window—the rain once again pouring down hard, relentless.
He softly muttered, "Rain... it was just like that day."
[??]
Sato glanced over him—eyes slightly wide, as if caught off guard, like he had just realized what Ken meant by those words. The pieces clicked together silently behind his expression.
Just when Ken was about to say another word, Sato perked up as though changing the subject. "L-Looks like we have to call Koizumi-san, after all...!"
He rose to his feet, and without saying anything, Sato slipped a hand into his jacket pocket, then the other—fumbling quickly as if searching to anchor the moment, or maybe just to break the stillness, his brows furrowed.
A short breath escaped his nose as the realization settled in.
"Eh? My phone is," he murmured under his breath. His phone—he'd left it charging back in his room.
He looked out the window too now, suddenly unsure of whether to speak or stay quiet.
Ken lay his eyes upon Sato, standing near the window. "You ran away that day after you kissed me."
Sato flinched his shoulder as he heard the words come from Ken's mouth.
"And then you started to avoid me—completely." He added.
Sato turned his head away, avoiding Ken or his gaze yet again. "It's not... like that..."
"Oh?" Ken sharply grunt as he stands up from the wooden floor.
"How could you just ignore someone so easily after doing something like that?"
Slowly but surely, Ken walked closer to Sato. Every step he took was deliberate yet heavy, like he was dragging the weight of every word he hadn't said until now.
Sato didn't move. He stood there, tense, as if rooted to the floor—his eyes flickering, not quite meeting Ken's.
"I don't understand you at all. I don't get it." Ken continued, his voice quieter now, but no less cutting.
There was a moment where Sato looked like he might say something. His lips parted slightly, then closed again. His shoulders shifted, but he still didn't speak.
"Miura-kun, I—"
Ken stopped just a few steps away, close enough now that the space between them felt charged.
His eyes are stable and focused, not missing any beat.
Sato felt like he was being drawn to him even more. That sharp and piercing gaze was inescapable.
He couldn't say anything as though the words were caught in his throat.
Ken opened his mouth before he did, but this time, his tone was casually cold. "Maybe you're just toying with me."
[!!]
He continued, "I've always looked like a loner, so you thought I'd be easy to play with," his voice low and slightly trembled over his words.
"No!" Sato said, shaking his head, "You got it all wrong! It's nothing like that."
"Then, tell me what it is!" Ken yelled out, his expression painted with pain and anger. The tension between them crackled like static in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Sato looked away, jaw clenched, fingers twitching as if grasping for words that refused to come.
"If I ever did something wrong, then say something! Stop avoiding me, damn it...!"
"It's because...!"
The boy took a shaky breath, his fists trembling at his sides. "Because I like you, Miura-kun!"
He said, voice breaking. "I'm in love with you—I've always had. But I didn't want you feeling uncomfortable or, worst disgusted by me."
Ken's eyes widened, the words echoing in his ears like thunder after a lightning strike.
Sato's gaze dropped to the floor, his chest rising and falling with shallow, anxious breaths. He added, "Watching you from a far was enough for me."
His heart pounded in his chest, loud and erratic.
"But then, I was given a chance to get close to you—and I got greedy."
"I couldn't help myself and ended up doing that to you." Sato laughed—bitter and broken, "It was so stupid of me."
His voice trembled into silence, the confession hanging in the air like a fragile thread.
He blinked once—twice—then a single tear slipped down his cheek, carving path through the quiet flush of his skin. "And I got scared... scared you'd look at me differently, so I avoided you."
His shoulders gave a small, involuntary shake.
"What the hell?" Ken finally spoke after he was able to get the words out of his throat.
Though his tone was enough to cut through Sato's feelings. He turned his head away and closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry..." He whispered, voice barely audible.
"What took you so long to say it?"
[?!]
Sato shifted a glance at him and saw an unfamiliar look on Ken's face.
His eyes well up as if tears are about to come out of his eyes—but he was smiling.
"Miura-kun..."
Ken's voice had turned soft and gentler this time as he said, "I had never thought of someone so hard before. Then, you came and messed me up—when you suddenly kept avoiding me, I was anxious, pissed off, and felt pain in my chest."
Sato was stunned. But he kept his ground despite the words he heard. "Miura-kun, are you telling me... that you also...?"
Ken looked at him in the eye. But he didn't answer.