Sayuri Misaki
I've never felt my voice in my throat the way I did today.
Like it didn't want to come out, but it had nowhere left to hide.
I didn't plan it. I didn't rehearse it.
I didn't imagine myself standing in front of Kaori, saying words that tasted like truth and fire at the same time.
But something cracked.
And I couldn't keep swallowing everything she tried to feed me.
Her smile was sharp. Her words were sharper.
And I-
I was tired of bleeding in silence.
"You don't get to decide who I am."
That's what I told her.
Loud enough for the people near the lockers to hear.
Loud enough that for once, I didn't feel like the girl in the background.
Kaori didn't flinch.
She's too good at wearing masks.
But something flickered in her eyes. Like I'd stepped somewhere I wasn't supposed to.
And maybe I had.
But I didn't care.
Not in that moment.
Not when Souta was standing down the hall, watching everything like his world was catching fire.
I walked past Kaori like her voice didn't reach me anymore.
And for the first time, I didn't look back to see what she'd do next.
I made it to the stairwell before I let myself breathe.
My hands were shaking.
Not from fear.
From release.
I wasn't strong. I wasn't brave.
But I didn't stay silent.
And that has to count for something.
Right?
Souta Ren
She said it.
She said it out loud.
I heard every word, even from where I stood.
The girl who never raised her voice, who tucked herself behind lockers and corners and pages-
She stood up.
To Kaori.
And now I can't stop hearing it.
"You don't get to decide who I am."
Those words hit harder than anything Kaori has ever thrown at me.
Because Sayuri… she meant them.
Even if her voice trembled.
Even if her fingers curled into her sleeves like she was holding herself together.
She still said it.
And when she walked away, she didn't stumble.
She didn't apologize.
She walked like she had weight.
Like she deserved the space she was taking up.
And for the first time, I saw her the way I always hoped she'd see herself.
Not fragile.
Not invisible.
Real.
Present.
Unshakable, even in her fear.
Kaori caught me watching.
Of course she did.
She smiled tight, bitter. The kind of smile that makes a boy feel like he's breaking some unspoken rule.
Like I'm choosing wrong.
But I'm not.
Because Sayuri wasn't just defending herself.
She was defending something we've both been too afraid to name.
And when she turned the corner and disappeared down the stairs, I followed.
I didn't call her name.
Not yet.
But I'll catch up.
I'll walk beside her.
And maybe, for once, I'll stop writing things in notebooks and say what I've been holding in for too long.
Because quiet girls shake walls when they finally speak.
And I want to be there when hers