The morning sun filters through the window blinds, painting golden lines across my desk. I don't hear the teacher's voice anymore. I just see her lips move, her hand point to something on the board. My notebook is open, but my pen hasn't moved since the bell rang.
It's like there's a fog in my chest quiet, but heavy. Everything feels slightly out of focus.
"Sayuri," Kaori whispers from the desk in front of me, twisting around with a smile too polished to be real. "You didn't eat breakfast, did you? You look pale."
I blink once, then twice. "I'm fine."
She tilts her head, pretending to pout. "You should take care of yourself better. Wouldn't want anyone to think you're troubled."
I nod. That's all I ever do around her now nod.
The homeroom teacher calls for our attention, but I already feel Kaori's eyes drifting away from me. She has a gift for acting—no one would guess she just made my skin crawl with a single sentence.
A folded slip of paper lands on my desk. I look around quickly. Souta isn't looking at me, but he's definitely the one who tossed it his elbow is still angled from the motion.
I open it under the desk.
Are you okay?
Three words. So simple, so terrifying.
My hand trembles. I want to write back no, I want to tell him everything. But Kaori is still here. The weight of her presence is worse than any teacher's stare.
I crumple the note quietly and slide it into my sleeve.
I avoid the cafeteria.
Instead, I walk slowly to the courtyard and sit under the tree near the storage shed the place no one really comes to except during sports festivals.
The wind plays with my hair as I unwrap my rice ball. I'm not hungry. I just need something to do with my hands.
Kaori's voice echoes in my head.
"You should stay away from Souta. People might misunderstand. You don't want that, do you?"
She said it with a sweet smile, in that casual way of hers, like she was giving friendly advice. But her eyes said something else like she was daring me to test her.
I didn't reply then either.
Because what could I say?
That I've started noticing the way Souta looks at me? That I've started caring?
No, it's better this way. Safer.
I hear footsteps. For a second, my heart jumps. I look up.
It's him.
Souta stands a few steps away, holding a juice box and a sandwich. He doesn't speak just sits beside me, like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"Thought you might be here," he says after a moment, not looking directly at me.
I nod.
Neither of us speaks for a while. The silence stretches but not awkwardly. It's quiet, almost warm. He doesn't ask about the note. He doesn't ask why I didn't reply.
But I know he knows.
And that makes it worse.
"You didn't like the bread today?" he asks casually, gesturing to my untouched lunch.
I shake my head. "Not hungry."
He hums softly. "Still… try to eat, okay?"
His voice is kind. Too kind. It makes something inside me ache.
"I'm fine," I say again.
It's the easiest lie in the world.
The school day blurs by in a dull hum. When the final bell rings, I take longer than usual to pack my things. Most students rush out. I move slowly, quietly.
At my locker, I find something taped inside.
A small slip of paper. Pink, curved handwriting.
He talks to everyone. Don't get ideas.
The words dig into me like a thorn. My fingers crush the note, and I shove it deep into my bag, like burying it will make it disappear from my thoughts.
Why is she doing this?
I never asked Souta to notice me. I never wanted anyone's attention. But now that he's here now that he sees me I don't want him to stop.
And that's exactly why Kaori is trying to rip it away.
The sky is a soft grey as I walk home.
The streets are quiet, save for the sound of my footsteps and the distant murmur of traffic. I usually walk faster. Today, I let the silence swallow me.
At the corner where Souta sometimes catches up to me, I glance back.
He's not there.
I don't know if it's because he left earlier… or because he's trying not to make things harder for me.
Maybe he saw the note in my locker.
Maybe he's finally listening to what I've been too afraid to say out loud.
That this… whatever this is between us… might not be allowed to grow.
I stare down at my shoes.
The laces are frayed. One's coming undone.
I don't stop to fix it.
When I get home, I go straight to my room. I don't turn on the lights.
I lie on my bed with my arms stretched above my head and eyes fixed on the ceiling, unmoving.
My phone buzzes once on the desk.
I don't check it.
Because if it's him, I don't know how to reply. And if it's her… I don't want to know what it says.
My fingers curl into the blanket.
I'm tired of pretending this doesn't hurt.
I'm tired of letting Kaori get to me.
But mostly… I'm tired of not being brave enough to fight back.
I close my eyes.
Just for a moment.
"Maybe this is for the best," I think.
But the ache in my chest says otherwise.