Yuji began to lecture her.
Yukino rested her cheek, against her hand and listened quietly.
"The first step is to give a simple smile, and introduce yourself," he said with confidence.
"Now give a smile."
She hesitated, Then forced a smile, but her smile was too wide—like something trying to copy human expression, but getting the shape all wrong.
*If you smile like this, the world will become your enemy* he taught.
"Like this?" She asked.
"Yeah… exactly," Yuji said, scratching his head with a sheepish grin. After a pause, he added softly, "Let's be friends."
"Why?" she asked, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her sleeve. *It's been many years…*
His head lowered,*Cold reply.*
Again, he scratched his head, forcing out a crooked smile. But instead of answering her question, he said something else—something that carried a weight of its own.
"I'm your friend."
She tilted her head and gazed at him, confused.
"What?…" he asked, knowing full well that what he said hadn't been the answer to her question.
"Nothing," she murmured instead, brushing it aside. Then, without warning, she held out her phone to him.
Yuji blinked. "Why?"
She quickly pulled her phone back.
He blinked in confusion.
"Sorry, sorry," he muttered. "Give me your number."
"It's okay, fine," she added under her breath, already taught he didn't really want to share it with her.
But then Yuji held out his own phone, a small smile tugging at his lips.
And just like that, a quiet bond formed between them—numbers exchanged, a thread tying their worlds a little closer together.
He glanced at the clock—it was already late. With a small sigh, he hurried to clean, stacking books and wiping the desks. Yukino quietly moved beside him, helping without a word.
"Really? Don't you have any friends?" Yuji asked while brushing dust off the desks.
"I had one," she answered softly, "back in my childhood… but I forgot his name."
Her eyes dropped to the floor as a shadow crossed her face.
*I must be heartless. Who forgets the name of the one who gave them their all? Even I can't forgive myself for that.*
After cleaning, they closed the classroom door and stepped out into the quiet street. The evening air was cool as they walked side by side toward their houses.
Both were heading down the same path.
Yuji broke the silence first. "Even I had a childhood friend. Her name is…" He scratched the back of his head, forcing a small laugh. "I forgot."
He didn't say anything more. His voice trailed off, swallowed by the night.
*Her name is Mizuki.* The thought echoed in his chest, a name he could never truly forget—yet one he couldn't bring himself to say aloud.
*Perhaps some names are meant to live only in memory.*
Yukino stopped in front of her house, glancing at him. "So… where's your house?"
Yuji scratched the back of his head, thinking for a moment. "Near from here..."
She nodded slowly.
He hesitated, then leaned slightly forward, trying to sound casual. "Hey… uh… how about tomorrow morning? We could walk to school together."
Yukino blinked, caught off guard by his words.
He waved his hand quickly, trying to explain. "Not like that! Haruto will come with me, so I thought… you could be friends with him too."
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she processed what he said. "…Oh," she murmured softly, still unsure how to respond.
Yuji scratched the back of his head, giving a small, awkward laugh. "I mean… it's fine if you don't want to, but I thought it might be… nice?"
Yukino's eyes softened a little, and she nodded faintly. "I… I'll think about it."
He smiled, relieved.
She waved lightly and stepped inside her house. Yuji watched her go, the quiet street feeling emptier now, yet somehow warmer with the memory of her shy smile.
He turned back and walked down the same street he had come from, as if silently saying, This is the way to my home.
Yukino watched him from the window, her eyes following his figure as he slowly disappeared down the street.
For a moment, she just stood there, the evening light casting long shadows across her room. A quiet warmth settled in her chest, strange and unfamiliar—like the lingering echo of a small, shy smile.
She turned away from the window, her thoughts still on him, and quietly whispered to herself, "…He's really strange. He told that his house is in this side."
She lay curled on her bed, the sheets cool against her skin, yet her body felt unbearably heavy.
"What's his name… what, what, what…?"
Her voice cracked in the silence, each word stumbling as if dragged from a broken memory. She dug her fingers into her hair, pulling until her scalp stung, desperate to tear the name out from the fog inside her head. The harder she thought, the more the silence pressed in on her, suffocating.
A ragged breath escaped her lips.
"…What's the point?" Her whisper was bitter, fragile. "What's the point of remembering the name of someone who isn't here? It's my fault. I left him—and his name left me."
Her arms wrapped tightly around her pillow, crushing it as if it could fill the absence in her chest. Closing her eyes, she let the darkness wash over her, but it only made the emptiness louder.
Yuji stepped into the house, the door shuttingsoftly behind him. *Talking about childhood made me realize something.* he slipped off his shoes and lined them neatly.
*The daily journey of returning home is a quiet reminder of how much of we lost ourselves, piece by piece, as we grow older.*
He stepped inside and made his way to the kitchen. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water and drank in long gulps, the coolness sliding down his throat. His exhaustion clung to him, every swallow feeling less like relief and more like a reminder of how drained he truly was.