The sky was overcast as the final school bell echoed through the halls of the campus. Aki didn't move right away. He remained seated, eyes fixed on the smooth surface of his desk, the hum of chatter and movement fading into background noise. Students packed up their bags, chairs scraped across the floor, and footsteps scurried through the corridor.
But Aki stayed still.
He could feel it again—that sharp, gnawing edge behind the soft smiles and friendly voices.
They were watching.
Whispers had followed him all week.
"Why's he always hanging around Lily?"
"Someone like him? Seriously?"
"Bet he's just clinging to her for attention."
The words weren't even that creative. But they stuck. Not because he believed them, but because somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if Lily had heard them too. And if she had, maybe… maybe she was too kind to say anything.
He slipped out of the classroom quietly, avoiding eye contact with everyone—even Mira and Riku, who were mid-conversation and didn't notice his exit.
He didn't go home right away. Instead, Aki walked the long way through the back path behind the school, where the trees swallowed the sky and the streets were quieter.
There, with only the rustling leaves and his slow footsteps for company, he let his thoughts unravel.
He remembered the way Lily smiled when she talked about little things—clouds, art, even coffee. The way her eyes lit up with gentle surprise when someone complimented her, like she wasn't used to kindness being sincere. He remembered the first time she teased him over his sketches, the second time she caught him blushing, and every time after that when her presence seemed to pull him out of himself just a little more.
He clenched his fists in his pockets.
Lately, it was getting harder.
Not just the teasing.
Not just the rumors.
It was how close she stood. How naturally she included him. How her voice softened around him and how she waited for him like she saw something in him he couldn't.
But he didn't want her to carry the weight of being near someone others dismissed or picked on.
It wasn't just guilt.
It was fear.
He reached a bench under an old camphor tree, one that curved gently overhead like a protective wing. He dropped his bag beside him and sat down, watching his fingers curl tightly in his lap.
"I've been observing you for a long time…"
The words were forming now, unspoken but simmering in his chest.
"I'm scared to hurt you, Lily. Maybe I should disappear a little."
His chest tightened as he said it under his breath.
Would she understand?
Would she be hurt?
He didn't want to be a source of conflict in her life, especially now. Not when she was finding her strength, walking steadily even though she'd once been bound to a wheelchair. She didn't need his shadows. Not now.
But she had always been warm. Even when he tried to avoid her in the mornings, she'd smile and wave like she didn't notice. Or maybe she did—and just didn't care.
She made it harder to disappear.
Aki leaned forward, elbows on his knees, gaze fixed on the ground. His brows furrowed slightly, and his lips parted in a shallow sigh.
He remembered earlier that day.
Lily had looked over at his desk.
Just for a moment.
Their eyes had met.
And he'd looked away.
He saw the hurt flicker across her expression, just barely, before she turned back toward the window. That moment replayed in his head now with painful clarity.
Maybe he was already hurting her.
Maybe distancing himself was doing more harm than good.
But even then… he didn't know how to face her. Not with this mess of emotion inside him.
Suddenly, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked it.
Lily: "Heading home. Be safe, okay?"
No questions. No pressure.
Just care.
Aki stared at the screen for a long moment. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, then fell away. He couldn't find the right words.
He pocketed the phone and stood up, backpack slung loosely over one shoulder.
The air smelled like rain.
And as he walked, the first few drops fell from the sky, cold and soft against his skin.
He didn't mind.
He kept walking.
And behind him, those words still echoed—his silent confession only the wind heard:
"I have always liked you, Lily."