"They always say that tears mean you're human. That crying is a sign of feeling.
But... what if you just can't cry?
Does that make you less human?"
Akira Kuroda had asked himself that question more times than he could count. People whispered about him at school , not because he wanted attention, but because he didn't react like the others. When his parents died last year, he didn't shed a single tear. Not one. He just stood there at the funeral. Blank face. Cold eyes. Silent.
And yet, he wasn't cold. Not inside.
Yui Nakamura had heard the rumors too. That tall boy with the messy black hair and sharp eyes who sat alone during breaks. People called him "the stone", or worse — "emotionless freak."
But Yui wasn't like the others. She watched him from afar, curious. Not in a creepy way... just drawn by something she didn't understand.
It wasn't pity.
It was something deeper.
Maybe it was the way Akira looked at the world, like he didn't belong in it. Or maybe it was how he always stared at the grey sky like waiting for something to fall.
Every afternoon, she'd see him leave his school and walk past the station where she waited. He never looked up, never noticed her. But she watched.
Noticed how he walked with his hands in his pockets.
How his shoulders were always a bit low.
Like he carried something heavy, but invisible.
One day, she whispered to herself,
"Why don't you cry...?"