The library was nearly empty by the time Lily arrived.
The afternoon sun filtered through the high windows, casting long beams of golden light across the bookshelves. Dust floated in the air like snow, and the muffled sounds of footsteps echoed far away.
It was peaceful here. Calm.
Lily walked slowly between the shelves, her knees still a little sore from gym class. But she didn't mind the ache. It reminded her she was walking — that she could walk.
Ethan, deep inside, still hadn't stopped marveling at that.
She wasn't sure what drew her to the library today. Maybe she just needed silence. Somewhere away from the stares. From the weight of pretending.
She rounded a corner and stopped.
Someone was already there.
A boy sat at the far table by the window, sketchbook open beside a pile of worn novels. His head was down, pen moving in slow, deliberate strokes. His posture was quiet. Guarded.
But something about him felt… familiar.
His name floated up from her memory.
Aki. The quiet boy from her class. Always alone. Always near the back. He never spoke, never drew attention. But his presence lingered — like a shadow that never tried to be seen.
He hadn't noticed her yet.
Lily hesitated.
Then slowly made her way toward a nearby shelf, pretending to scan the books.
She wasn't trying to interrupt — just… stay close.
Aki's pen paused.
He glanced up.
Their eyes met.
And for a second, neither of them moved.
Then Aki did something that surprised her.
He closed his sketchbook quickly — not in panic, but like it held something secret — and gave her the faintest nod.
"…Hi," Lily said softly.
Aki nodded again. "Hey."
His voice was quiet. Soft-spoken. Not shy exactly — just… restrained.
Lily walked toward the table, unsure why her heart felt heavier in her chest.
"I didn't know you liked drawing."
Aki tensed for a moment. "I don't usually show anyone."
She offered a small smile. "I won't look if you don't want me to."
"…Thanks."
Silence stretched between them — not awkward, but gentle. Comfortable. Like a space neither of them needed to fill.
Finally, Lily asked, "What do you like to draw?"
Aki hesitated. Then, almost too softly to hear: "People."
She tilted her head. "Anyone in particular?"
He looked at her — eyes darker than she expected, full of something deep and wordless.
"…People who hide."
Lily's breath caught in her throat.
She sat down across from him, slowly. The wooden chair creaked beneath her. She rested her hands in her lap.
They didn't say anything for a long time.
Outside the window, a breeze stirred the trees. Inside the library, pages turned quietly in the distance.
Finally, Lily whispered, "…You see more than most people, don't you?"
Aki didn't answer.
But for the first time since she transferred, Lily felt like someone was really looking at her.
Not at her face. Not at her legs. Not at her name.
But through her — into something she hadn't shown anyone.
And even Ethan, deep within, fell silent.
Because in Aki's silence… was recognition.
Like he'd met a version of Lily before. One who carried pain the way he did — privately. Wordlessly.
And now… maybe they weren't so alone anymore