The rain hadn't stopped. It had only thinned into a steady whisper against the glass, as though the night itself refused to let them forget.They had brought Haruto back to the old clubroom—half storage, half refuge—where the faint smell of paint and chalk hung in the damp air.
He sat on the edge of a desk, a towel draped around his shoulders, eyes hollow with exhaustion.Aoi stood across from him, her fingers still faintly trembling. The others had gone to fetch a first-aid kit, leaving only the sound of dripping water and their uneven breathing.
For a long time neither spoke. The silence between them was sharp enough to hurt.
Then Aoi exhaled shakily. "Why didn't you tell me?"
Haruto blinked. "Tell you what?"
"Don't," she cut in, voice cracking. "Don't act like I'm imagining it. Those bruises, the way you flinch, the way you disappear after class—"Her hand flew to her mouth, trying to keep her voice from breaking, but the tears came anyway, hot and unrestrained."I thought you just didn't want to talk. I thought you were shy, or tired, or just—just being you. But you were hurt, Haruto. And I didn't see it."
He lowered his gaze, words slipping out barely above a whisper. "I didn't want anyone to see."
"Why?"
"Because then it's real."
Aoi's breath hitched. She stepped closer, close enough that her tears dotted the sleeve of his shirt. "It was real. Every bruise, every time you came in late, every time you smiled like it didn't matter—"She pressed a fist to her chest. "I've never felt rage like that. When I saw him hit you, something in me—snapped. I don't ever want to feel it again."
Haruto's fingers tightened around the edge of the desk. "You shouldn't have done that."
"I know," she said, wiping at her eyes. "But I couldn't just stand there. I couldn't watch them break you and pretend it was fine."
He gave a bitter, quiet laugh. "They've been breaking me for years. You can't fix something like that."
"I can try."
Her voice was soft now, raw but certain. "I'm allowed to try."
He looked up at her then, the fragile calm in his eyes fracturing. "Why? What could you possibly see in someone like me?"
Aoi stared at him through tears. "You still don't get it."
He shook his head. "I'm not good with people. I don't talk right. I freeze. I paint because it's the only way I know how to breathe. You deserve someone who isn't… this."
"Stop."
Her voice came out sharp, trembling, full of all the things she couldn't reason through.
"I don't care about deserve. I care about you walking into class with that same quiet smile like nothing hurts. I care about you hiding behind those sketches when the world gets loud. That's what I like about you, Haruto. You keep going even when you shouldn't have to."
He shook his head again, tears slipping down his cheeks now, silent and unwilling. "I don't deserve you."
"Maybe," she whispered, "but I'm choosing you anyway."
Before he could answer, she stepped forward, closed the space between them, and pressed her lips to his.
It wasn't gentle; it wasn't planned. It was desperate—salt and rain and apology mixed together. Her hands trembled as they found his collar; his breath caught halfway between surprise and surrender.For a moment the world shrank to the sound of their hearts, the rain, and the faint hum of the city outside.
When she finally pulled back, her voice came out rough. "Not another word. You're mine now."
He stared at her, eyes wide, lips parted in disbelief, then lowered his forehead to hers and let out a broken laugh that sounded halfway to a sob."Then promise me you'll never look at me like I'm something to fix."
She brushed his hair from his eyes. "Only something to protect."
The Next Morning
The rain had cleaned the city overnight; puddles gleamed like glass on the pavement.The six of them gathered in the art room before homeroom, tension coiling between them.
Suki paced near the window. "Okay, so… big question: what do we do about yesterday?"
Kenji, leaning against a desk, looked grim for once. "If someone saw or heard—Aoi could get expelled."
Aoi, sitting beside Haruto, didn't look up. "Let them."Her voice was steady now, but the shadows under her eyes told a different story.
Ryuzí crossed his arms. "You think that helps anyone? It just gives them another story to tell."
Haruto finally spoke, low and even. "They'll tell stories no matter what we do."
Suki turned to him. "We can tell a different one. A true one. That they went too far."
Aoi frowned. "You want to go to the teachers?"
"I want to go to someone who'll listen," Suki said. "Because if we don't, they'll do it again. Maybe not to Haruto, maybe to someone else."
Haruto's jaw tightened. "I don't want pity."
"It's not pity," Ryuzí said. "It's accountability."
A long silence followed. Rainwater still dripped from the eaves outside, ticking like a metronome.
Finally Kenji broke it with a sigh. "Fine. We tell the counselor everything. But we keep Aoi's name out of it for now."
"That won't work," Aoi murmured. "He saw me."
"Then we make sure he remembers why," Ryuzí said. "Because he deserved it."
Suki exhaled through a shaky laugh. "You're all scary when you're calm, you know that?"
For the first time since the fight, Haruto smiled—a small, tired thing, but real. "You're scarier when you're serious, Suki."
Suki grinned weakly. "Good. Means you're still with us."
Later That Day
When the bell rang for lunch, Haruto lingered behind. Aoi stayed too.The classroom emptied, leaving just the hum of the lights and the smell of chalk dust.
He leaned against the windowsill, watching the sky clear by degrees. "I thought about what you said."
Aoi looked up from her notebook. "Which part?"
"The part about choosing."He glanced at her, faint color rising in his cheeks. "You shouldn't have to choose me."
"Too late," she said simply.
He laughed quietly, then turned serious. "I don't know how to be with people. Sometimes I forget what I'm supposed to say. Sometimes I shut down and you'll think I'm ignoring you, but I'm just… lost."
"Then I'll find you," she said.
His throat tightened. "You make it sound easy."
"It's not." She smiled faintly. "But it's worth it."
They stood in silence again, the kind that didn't hurt this time. The kind that felt like breathing after too long underwater.
Aoi reached out and touched the side of his face where the bruise was fading. "Promise me something."
"What?"
"That next time you're hurting, you tell me before it gets this bad."
He hesitated, then nodded. "I promise."
"Good." Her hand lingered for a moment before she stepped back, wiping at her eyes again. "Now we survive the rumors."
He gave a small, rueful smile. "Together?"
"Together," she said. "And this time, no bats."
He almost smiled. "You're not allowed to say that word for at least a week."
Evening – Group Chat Excerpt
Suki: Everyone okay?Kenji: The counselor said they'll "look into it." Translation: meetings forever.Aoi: I don't care, as long as they stop.Ryuzí: They will. We'll make sure.Suki: Haruto, you alive?Haruto: Breathing. Drawing. Thanks.Aoi: Drawing what?Haruto: A sunrise.
That night, in his room, Haruto stared at the new sketch on his desk.Two silhouettes stood beneath a rising sun—one holding a bat, one holding a brush.
He almost laughed, then set the pencil down and whispered into the quiet,"I'm not alone anymore."
Outside, the rain finally stopped.