The next morning arrived with the same dull weight as the previous one.
Exams were close.
Too close.
The library was unusually quiet, but not in a comforting way. The silence felt forced — like everyone inside was trying to suppress their anxiety by drowning themselves in books. Pages flipped. Pens scratched against paper. Someone coughed in the distance. That was all.
Arashi sat at the corner of the long wooden table, a thick textbook open in front of him.
But he wasn't reading.
His eyes were fixed on the page… yet nothing was registering.
The words blurred. Paragraphs blended together. Even the diagrams looked meaningless.
He turned a page.
Then another.
He hadn't absorbed a single sentence.
His mind wasn't tired.
It was bored.
A deep, suffocating kind of boredom that came from forcing yourself to do something you no longer had the mental energy for.
He exhaled slowly and leaned back in his chair.
Why does studying suddenly feel this unbearable? he thought.
It wasn't like he hated learning. Normally, he could sit for hours and prepare calmly. But today, something inside him resisted. Every line he read felt heavier than it should have.
He stared at the ceiling for a moment before dropping his gaze back to the book, pretending to read again.
Across from him, Miyu stretched her arms and groaned quietly.
"I'm hungry," she muttered, rubbing her stomach.
The word hungry echoed in Arashi's mind like an opportunity.
He immediately looked up.
"Me too," he said casually, closing his book a little too quickly. "Wait here. I'll go get something for everyone."
He stood up before anyone could object.
On the surface, it sounded thoughtful.
But in reality—
It was an escape.
An excuse.
A perfectly timed exit from the suffocating grip of textbooks and expectations.
As soon as he stepped out of the library, the air felt different.
Lighter.
He stretched both arms above his head, rolling his shoulders with a faint groan.
"Man… these exams," he muttered under his breath. "I seriously need to do something. I can't study anymore."
He wasn't physically exhausted.
He was mentally saturated.
Too much information. Too many formulas. Too many responsibilities stacked together.
"For now," he sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets, "I'll just walk around a bit. Kill some time."
And so he did.
He walked down the corridor slowly, without direction. Sometimes he glanced at the notice boards. Sometimes he looked outside through the large windows, watching students crossing the courtyard.
He wasn't thinking about anything important.
He was just… drifting.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
He wandered past the vending machines. Past the empty classrooms. Past the staircase that led to the rooftop.
Only when he casually checked the time did reality snap back into place.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Oh no…"
His footsteps halted.
"I came out to buy stuff."
The excuse.
The responsibility.
The lie in progress.
He quickly reached into his pocket.
Empty.
He checked the other one.
Also, empty.
His expression froze.
"Seriously?"
He patted his jeans again, as if money might magically appear.
Nothing.
For a brief moment, panic flickered through him.
What am I supposed to tell them now?
Going back empty-handed wasn't the problem.
Going back without a story was.
Arashi stood still in the hallway, staring at the floor as his mind began calculating possibilities.
Option one: Tell the truth.
I didn't feel like studying, so I just walked around.
No.
That would invite questions.
Option two: Say the shop was closed.
Too simple. Too easy to verify.
Option three…
His eyes slowly sharpened.
A small, almost amused smile appeared on his face.
"Idea."
He turned around and began walking back toward the library, already rehearsing the explanation in his mind.
"I'll say there was too much crowd at the shop," he murmured quietly. "That's why I got late."
He nodded to himself.
"And when my turn came for payment, I checked my pocket…"
He slid his hand into his empty pocket again for realism.
"…and realized it was empty."
A pause.
"Then I remembered I didn't even bring my wallet."
He smirked slightly.
"Yes."
That sounded natural.
Not defensive.
Not suspicious.
Just unfortunate timing.
"Yes… this is perfect."
By the time he reached the library doors again, his expression had returned to normal. Calm. Casual. Almost slightly annoyed — as if he had genuinely experienced a minor inconvenience.
He placed his hand on the door handle.
For a brief second, he wondered—
Was this small lie really necessary?
Then he pushed the thought away.
It wasn't about the snacks.
It was about control.
Even in something this small, Arashi preferred crafting the narrative rather than being exposed by randomness.
He opened the door and stepped back inside the heavy silence of the library.
And just like that—
The game of small deceptions continued.
The library door opened quietly.
Arashi stepped inside with a composed expression — controlled, casual, perfectly balanced.
But his hands were empty.
Miyu noticed first.
Her eyes dropped to his hands, then slowly lifted to his face.
"You didn't bring anything?" she asked.
Satoru and Mizuki also looked up from their books.
Arashi adjusted his posture slightly and let out a small sigh, as if mildly irritated.
"There was too much crowd at the shop," he began naturally. "I waited for a long time. When my turn finally came and I reached into my pocket…"
He paused for effect, lightly patting his jeans.
"…it was empty."
Miyu blinked.
"I forgot my wallet," he finished with a faint embarrassed smile.
For a second, no one spoke.
Mizuki tilted her head slightly.
"You should've checked before going," she said calmly.
Her tone wasn't accusing.
It was logical.
That made it worse.
Arashi rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"Yeah… I know."
A small silence followed.
Then Mizuki quietly opened her pencil pouch and took out some folded notes.
"Here," she extended her hand toward him. "Take this. Go get it."
The money rested in her palm — simple, normal, practical.
Arashi looked at it.
Then he looked away.
He let out a soft breath and rubbed his forehead.
"I could go," he said slowly, "but that first wallet moment was already embarrassing enough. If I go again, it'll just feel… worse."
It was half-truth, half-defense.
Satoru leaned back in his chair.
"Alright, alright," he said casually, standing up. "I'll go."
He took the money from Mizuki and stretched his arms.
"Consider it my contribution to academic survival."
And just like that, he left.
The door closed behind him.
The silence returned.
Arashi sat back down in his chair and inhaled deeply.
A long breath.
Not relief.
Not guilt.
Just… emptiness.
He reopened his textbook.
His eyes stared at the page.
Again.
But nothing entered his mind.
He wasn't thinking about snacks.
He wasn't thinking about the lie either.
He was thinking about the exams.
About the pressure.
About expectations.
About the possibility of failure.
And instead of confronting those thoughts—
He avoided them.
One day passed.
Then another.
Arashi didn't show up.
"Not feeling well," he texted.
Simple.
Believable.
No one questioned it deeply.
On another day, he came briefly — only to stand up after twenty minutes.
"I have something important outside," he said lightly.
He didn't specify what.
He didn't need to.
He walked out again.
And the pattern continued.
Small absences.
Small excuses.
Small escapes.
The one week given for exam preparation —
Slowly dissolved.
Like sand slipping through fingers.
Each day, Arashi told himself:
I'll start properly tomorrow.
Tomorrow never came.
Instead, he scrolled through his phone and played games all day.
Laying on his bed staring at the ceiling.
Convincing himself that panic later would force productivity.
It didn't.
It only created distance.
Distance between him and preparation.
Distance between him and responsibility.
Distance between him and himself.
And before he could even properly register it—
Exam day arrived.
Sunlight filtered through the curtains.
His alarm had been ringing.
For a while.
Arashi's eyes slowly opened.
He stared at the ceiling.
Still.
Then something felt wrong.
He turned his head lazily toward his phone.
His eyes focused.
Then widened.
"…You've got to be kidding me."
He sat up instantly.
He was already late.
Not slightly.
Properly late.
His heart began beating faster — not from fear of failure.
But from the sudden shock of reality crashing down.
He jumped out of bed, quickly splashing water on his face without thinking, barely brushing his hair properly.
No revision.
No last-minute formulas.
Nothing.
His mind was blank.
He rushed down the hallway and stopped in front of Ayane's room.
He knocked firmly.
"Ayane! Wake up!"
A pause.
Another knock.
"Hurry up! We're late!"
There was shuffling inside.
A confused voice.
"What? Late?!"
"Yes! Just get ready!"
There was no time for thinking now.
No time for regret.
No time for strategy.
For the first time in a while—
Arashi wasn't calculating.
He was reacting.
And within minutes, without preparation, without confidence, without a plan—
He headed toward the exam hall.
The week had been wasted.
The excuses had been used.
The time was gone.
Now—
Only consequences remained.