Once you stop hiding,
you can't control who notices.
Kai understood that much.
What he hadn't expected was how fast it would become obvious to the people closest to him.
The next morning didn't feel special.
That was the problem.
No dramatic shift. No warning signs. Just the same ceiling, the same faint light creeping through the curtains, the same sound of Sora moving around the room.
"You're awake early," she said, tying her hair up.
"Couldn't sleep."
She glanced at him through the mirror. "You couldn't sleep yesterday either."
Kai shrugged. "Guess I'm consistent now."
She didn't laugh.
On the way to school, everything started exactly the same—and that somehow made it worse.
"Morning."
"…Morning."
The reply came out easily. Too easily.
Joro, walking a step behind, slowed down on purpose, eyes lighting up.
"Oh," he said quietly, "we're doing this again."
Kai glanced back. "Doing what?"
"Participating," Joro replied. "Wild concept."
Another student waved. "Yo, Kai."
"Hey."
Sora stopped walking.
Ayko's fingers tightened around her bag strap.
Joro covered his mouth with his hand, shoulders shaking slightly. "Nah. This is my favorite arc already."
"JORO," Sora hissed.
"What?" he said innocently. "I'm just… observing."
Ayko walked closer to Kai, matching his pace.
"You don't usually answer," she said.
"I know."
"Why now?"
Kai thought about last night. About deciding not to disappear anymore.
"…Didn't feel like pretending."
She didn't reply—but she didn't step away either.
Joro noticed that too.
Oh this is good, he thought.
---
The locker hallway hit like a pause screen.
Kai turned the corner and stopped.
The letter wasn't inside his locker.
It was taped to the outside.
Clean. Centered. Visible.
Joro leaned forward immediately. "Public placement? Respectfully insane."
Sora stared. "Why is it outside."
Ayko didn't say anything—but she was very still.
Love letters weren't new.
Everyone knew that.
Kai had always gotten them. Quietly. Regularly. He never reacted. Never acknowledged them long enough for it to matter.
This one was different because it wasn't trying to be private.
Kai reached up and peeled it off slowly.
"Bro," Joro whispered, delighted, "you're pocketing it?"
Kai glanced at him. "I haven't even opened it."
"That's worse," Joro said. "That's character development."
Rin's voice drifted in from behind them.
"See? I told you."
They turned.
She leaned against the lockers like she'd planned this entrance, eyes flicking between Kai's face and the folded envelope.
"This isn't new," she said. "You just stopped ignoring it."
Ayko's jaw tightened.
Kai slid the letter into his pocket—not his bag.
Sora noticed.
Ayko noticed more.
The bell rang.
Joro sighed dramatically. "Man. And the episode just got good."
---
Class felt longer than usual.
Kai answered questions. Not eagerly. Just… normally.
Sora watched him like she was waiting for him to glitch.
Ayko stayed quiet behind him, and that silence felt heavier than any confrontation.
Joro, meanwhile, was thriving.
He leaned over once and whispered, "I'm not saying you're the problem… but you're absolutely the problem."
"Stop enjoying this," Kai muttered.
"I waited YEARS for this," Joro whispered back. "Let me live."
---
Lunch was where it really cracked.
Rin joined them without asking, dragging a chair over like it was obvious she belonged there.
"So," she said cheerfully, "locker letter."
Kai sighed. "Please don't."
Joro rested his chin on his hand. "No no, please do."
Sora shot him a look. "You are not helping."
"I'm emotionally invested," he replied.
Ayko stared at her tray. "You always throw them away."
Kai paused. "…I still might."
"But you didn't," she said quietly.
Rin smiled faintly. "That's the difference."
Joro nodded. "See? She gets it."
Sora snapped, "JORO."
"What? I'm agreeing!"
Ayko pushed her chair back. "I need air."
She stood and walked away.
Kai moved instinctively.
Sora grabbed his sleeve. "Don't."
Rin watched Ayko leave, thoughtful.
Joro finally stopped smiling.
"…Yeah," he said softly. "That one hurt."
---
Ayko found Kai later near the stairs anyway.
"I didn't plan to say this," she said.
"I know."
"I liked you," she said quietly. "When you were distant. When you ignored everyone else."
Kai didn't interrupt.
"I thought… that version was just ours." She looked at him. "And now it's not."
Silence stretched.
"I'm not choosing anyone," Kai said honestly.
"I know," she replied. "That's what scares me."
From the hallway, Joro watched.
Not smiling.
Not joking.
Just understanding.
Okay, he thought. This stopped being funny.
Sora arrived moments later, eyes sharp. "You good?"
Ayko nodded and walked past her.
---
That night, Kai lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
The pressure behind his eyes was familiar.
The weight in his chest wasn't.
Jealousy.
Confession.
Attention he never asked for.
And somewhere in all of it, Kai finally realized something Joro had understood hours ago—
You don't have to do anything wrong
to change everything.